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diff --git a/58582-0.txt b/58582-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ec76ad8 --- /dev/null +++ b/58582-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,21543 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 58582 *** + + + + + + + + + + + + + +1. Page scan source: Google Books + https://books.google.com/books?id=arNBAAAAYAAJ + (Princeton University) + + + + + + +ST. MARTIN'S EVE + +A NOVEL + + +BY +MRS. HENRY WOOD +AUTHOR OF +"EAST LYNNE," "THE CHANNINGS," "JOHNNY LUDLOW," ETC. + + + +_NINETIETH THOUSAND_ + + + +London +MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED +NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY +1901 + +_All rights reserved_ + + + + + + +CONTENTS. +CHAPTER + + I. THE LITTLE HEIR. + II. FAITHFUL TO THE DEAD. + III. THE UNEXPLAINED REASON. + IV. A NEW MISTRESS AT ALNWICK. + V. ON ST. MARTIN'S EVE. + VI. THE ALNWICK SUPERSTITION. + VII. A SHADOW OF THE FUTURE. + VIII. WASTING AWAY. + IX. CHANGES AT ALNWICK. + X. MISS ROSE DARLING. + XI. GEORGINA BEAUCLERC'S LOVE. + XII. THE FAIR AT ALNWICK. + XIII. ONLY AS BROTHER AND SISTER. + XIV. ST. MARTIN'S EVE. + XV. CONFLICTING STATEMENTS. + XVI. INVESTIGATION. + XVII. HONOUR'S RAVINGS. + XVIII. ADELINE DE CASTELLA. + XIX. TAKING A PORTRAIT. + XX. LOVE'S FIRST DREAM. + XXI. A FADING CHILD. + XXII. ALL ABOUT A STUPID FRENCH MARIGOLD. + XXIII. JEALOUSY. + XXIV. FOILED! + XXV. A CRISIS IN A LIFE. + XXVI. THE SICK CHAMBER. + XXVII. THE LITTLE CHILD GONE. + XXVIII. MRS. BRAYFORD'S BELIEF. + XXIX. LOUISE'S WHISPERED WORDS. + XXX. THE RECEPTION OF THE DEAD. + XXXI. UNAVAILING REPENTANCE. + XXXII. SOME MONTHS ONWARDS. + XXXIII. A TELEGRAM. + XXXIV. WALKING OUT TO DINNER. + XXXV. ON THE TERRACE. + XXXVI. LOCKED IN. + XXXVII. A MEETING IN PARIS. + + + + + + +CHAPTER I. +THE LITTLE HEIR. + + +The dull sombre light of a November afternoon was rapidly giving place +to twilight. The day had been wet and cold; and the sodden leaves that +strewed the park of one of England's fair domains did not contribute +to the cheerfulness of the scene. The mansion belonging to it stood on +a gentle eminence, well open to view, and looking boldly down on its +lands: a long but not high house of red brick, with many windows; a +cheerful house, rising behind a wide and gently sloping lawn, which on +this ungenial day gave out as wretched an appearance as did all else +of outward nature. + +But if the weather was rendering the demesne desolate, it seemed not +to affect the house itself. Lights were gleaming from many of its +numerous windows, were passing from room to room, from passage to +passage; and fires added their red glow to the general brightness. A +spectator might have said that some unusual excitement or gaiety was +going on there. Excitement in that house there indeed was, but of +gaiety none; for grim Death was about to pay it a visit: not to call +any waiting for him in weary old age, but to snatch away the young and +lovely. + +Had you entered the hall, so bright with light, what would have struck +you most was the hushed, unusual silence. Nearly all the servants of +the establishment were gathered there; but so still were they, so +motionless in their repose, that it had something unnatural about it. +They stood in small groups, for the most part only half showing +themselves, and gazing towards a closed dining-room, sorrow and +consternation imprinted on their faces. Two physicians, almost as +hushed in manner just now as the servants themselves, were partaking +of refreshment within it. The butler himself waited on them; and as he +came out and crossed the hall with noiseless tread, he repeated an +ominous opinion he had heard hinted at. One of the women-servants, her +tears streaming, started up the broad, carpeted staircase with +impulsive but soft footfalls, and a younger girl, looking frightened +to death, followed her. They stole along the corridor to the right, +and halted at a door there. Why, or for what purpose, they could not +have told, since they might not presume to enter the chamber; for +their lady was lying there at the point of doom. + +A handsome, spacious bed-chamber, opening into a dressing-room, but +the door was almost closed between them now. Over the dressing-room +fire was a tall, upright, middle-aged woman, more intelligent and +respectable-looking than are some of her class. She wore a clean print +gown, and a close white cap shaded a cheerful countenance. The fire +shone full on her brown eyes, and on the tears that glistened in them. +Strange sight! for the continuous scenes of sickness, sometimes of +death, in which these hired nurses' lives are passed, tend to render +them callous to outward emotion. + +Pacing the carpet slowly and sadly, his eyes cast down in thought, was +a little man of ruddy complexion, sharp, thin features, and hair going +grey with years. It was Mr. Pym, the family medical attendant. His +hands were clasped behind him, as he walked, and his gaze, worn and +anxious, was never lifted from the ground. + +"This will make the second case we have lost this year," suddenly +observed the woman, whose name was Dade, in whispered tones. "What can +make it so unlucky a year?" + +The surgeon gave no answer. Perhaps he did not like the "we" in her +remark. But he knew that his duty was always performed to the very +utmost of his skill and power; that it had been so in the two cases to +which she alluded; and his conscience, so far, was at peace before +God. + +"There are no further means that can be tried?" resumed the nurse, +using the words as an assertion, more than a question, and she glanced +towards the partially-open door connecting the two apartments. + +"None," was the conclusive reply. "She is sinking rapidly." + +A long pause. The nurse stood motionless, the surgeon pursued his slow +and noiseless tread. Suddenly he stopped and turned his head, speaking +in quick tones. + +"Where's the baby, Mrs. Dade?" + +"He's in the cradle, sir, by her side. She looked as if she wanted him +left there." + +And then the doctor remembered, and paced on as before. He had spoken +in momentary forgetfulness. + +The silence within the sick chamber was as great and more painful: the +moments of bustle and anxiety had passed away. The fire in the grate +had burnt down to embers; a pale light was emitted from the shaded +lamp; the air was redolent, almost to faintness, of perfume. Essences +had been sprinkled about in profusion, as if they would make pleasant +the way to death! The heavy blue velvet curtains were drawn back from +the bed; and, lying there, was a form young and fair, with a pale, +exhausted face. Everything in the chamber spoke of wealth, comfort, +luxury: but not all the wealth and luxury of the whole world combined, +had they been brought together, could have arrested the fast-fleeting +spirit already on its wing. On the far side of the bed stood a pretty +cradle, ornamented with blue silk and lace: the little child so +quietly and unconsciously sleeping in it, had seen the light but +yesterday. + +Leaning over the bed was a young man bowed down with grief, of +attractive features and gentlemanly bearing. Not long had they been +man and wife; but a year at most; and now it was hard to part; doubly +hard with this new tie which had been born to them. Yet they both knew +it must be so, and he had thrown his arm lightly across her, and laid +his cheek, wet with tears, against hers, vainly wishing, perhaps half +hoping, that his heart's bitter prayers might avail to renew her life. +The silence between them had been long and agonizing: each heart was +aching with painful thoughts; yet it seemed in that last hour as if +they could not give them utterance. May Heaven shed its balm on all +such partings! + +He raised his face and pushed his hair from his brow as he looked at +her, for she had moved restlessly, as if in sudden pain. It was not +pain of body: of that she was free in this, the passing: but pain of +mind. An anxious care, one of the many she must leave on earth, was +pressing upon that lady's brain. + +"When the months and the years go by," she murmured, breaking the +silence, and clasping her hands in feeble supplication to him, "and +you think of another wife, oh choose, one that will be a _mother_ to +my child. Be not allured by beauty, be not tempted by wealth, be not +ensnared by specious deceit; but take one who will be to him the +loving mother that I would have been. Some one whom you know well and +can trust. Not a stranger, not a----" + +"I shall never marry again," he interrupted in impassioned tones, when +his first surprise allowed him to speak. "You, my first and only love, +shall be the sole wife ever taken to my bosom. Never shall another +woman usurp your place. And here I swear----" + +"Hush! hush!" she panted, laying her hand upon his lips to stay the +incautious words. "It were cruel of me to exact such a promise from +you: and it would be useless for you to make it, for you would never +keep it, save with self-upbraiding. The remembrance of this scene will +pass away; the remembrance of me will pass; and then you will ask +yourself why should your life be condemned to solitude. No, no. To +remain faithful to the dead is not in man's nature." + +He thought in his own heart, honestly thought it then, that her +opinion was a mistaken one, and he marvelled that she should so speak. +He felt as sure as he could feel of anything in this world, that he +should prove a living refutation of it. Dying though she was, +partially oblivious already to earth and earth's interests, she yet +saw clearer into human nature than he. + +"Yet oh, forget me not wholly!" she whispered. "Let there be brief +moments when the remembrance of me shall return to you; when you will +dwell upon me as having been the one you once best loved on earth!" + +Another deep silence from words, for he could not answer: his sobs +were choking him; the pulses of his anguished heart were beating +wildly. _She_ spoke not from exhaustion; and several minutes passed +on. + +"What will you have, him named?" he asked abruptly, pointing towards +the cradle. + +"Call him Benjamin," she replied, after a minute's thought, and she +spoke now with difficulty. "He cost Rachel her life, as this child has +cost mine. And oh, may he be to you the solace that Benjamin was to +old Jacob; and may you love and cherish this child as he did his!" + +Her voice gradually failed her, a spasm smote her features, and she +lay more heavily on the pillow. Her husband raised her: he clasped her +fluttering heart to his; he wildly kissed her pallid face. But that +face was losing its look of consciousness, and no tenderness could +arrest the departing spirit. In a paroxysm of alarm: as if, now that +the moment had come, it took him by surprise, a thing that had not +been looked for: he cried out to the medical man in the adjoining +chamber. + +Mr. Pym came in, followed by the nurse. He gave one glance at the bed, +and then whispered the woman to summon the physicians. He knew their +presence would be utterly useless, but at such times man deems it well +to fulfil these outward forms. + +They hastened up the stairs. They remained but a few minutes in the +room, and then left it; soon left the house. The better part of that +lovely lady had quitted it before they did. + +And it was only the previous day that the joy-bells had rung out in +the adjacent village on account of the birth! Only this same morning +that the local newspaper, wet from the press, had given forth the +festal news to the world! + +"On the 10th inst., at Alnwick Hall, the wife of George Carleton St. +John, Esquire, of a son and heir." + +And the journal went its way, as journals do go their way, into many a +neighbouring home, whose inmates made their comments on the one piece +of news that was of more interest to them than all the rest, and +congratulated each other on the birth of Alnwick's heir, little +conscious of the tragedy that was supervening upon it. + +Amongst the houses to which the journal penetrated was one on the +other side the village of Alnwick. A small, unpretending dwelling, +this house, standing a little away from the highroad, but a pretty +place withal, hidden amidst its surrounding shrubs and trees. It was +called "The Cottage." Its mistress had named it so with a sort of +affectation of humility, for it was superior to a cottage, even to an +elegant one. + +Lying back in a lounging chair, in one of the pretty sitting-rooms, +where she had just thrown herself, not from illness but from fatigue, +was the owner of the house, when the newspaper was taken in. A woman +of nearly fifty years, but looking a great deal younger, with her +still bright blue eyes and her auburn hair. She was a widow; a widow +for the second time. Barely twenty years of age when her first +husband, Mr. Norris, died, she had soon espoused another, Colonel +Darling. In ten years after that she was a widow again, and had +remained so. She chose to retain the name of Norris, without any right +to it, and her cards were printed "Mrs. Norris Darling," so that +people, especially strangers, hardly knew by which to address her, and +sometimes called her Norris and sometimes Darling. The fact is, Mrs. +Darling was a little given to pretension, as ladies will be, when +conscious of a want of dignity in themselves or their surroundings. +She had been packing things all the morning; she, her maid, and two of +her daughters; for they were summoned from home unexpectedly; and she +was falling into a doze when the footman entered. + +"What is it?" she asked in peevish accents; and the man looked up in +surprise at hearing it from his usually easy-tempered mistress. + +"It is only the newspaper, ma'am." + +"Put it down, Tomkins," she answered, too idle to take it. "I think I +was asleep. I am very tired." + +The man laid it on the table and quitted the room, meeting a +staid-looking, rather old-fashioned young lady who was entering it, +for whom he made way. It was Miss Darling, and she looked thirty years +of age if she looked a day. But she was only five-and-twenty. + +"Well, Mary Anne, is it all done?" + +"It is all done, mamma. Prance is waiting for Tomkins to cord the +boxes." + +Mrs. Darling closed her eyes again, and her daughter took up the +unopened newspaper, when another young lady, very much resembling the +first, and looking quite as old, came in. She gave a slight shiver as +she passed the window, and began to stir the fire. + +"What a miserable day it is! I wish we could put off our journey." + +"Where's the use of wishing that, Margaret?" said Miss Darling. "But +it _is_ miserable. Has Charlotte found the cover of her desk?" + +"I don't know. I don't suppose Charlotte has looked for it. I heard +her tell Prance that none of her things must be forgotten." + +"True. When did Charlotte ever trouble herself to look for anything?" +was Mary Anne Darling's response; but she spoke it more in soliloquy +than as a reply. + +Margaret Darling--she was one year younger than her sister--drew her +chair in front of the fire, and put her feet upon the fender. + +"Is that the newspaper? Is there any news, Mary Anne?" + +"Yes, there's news," was the quiet answer: but Miss Darling's manner +was always quiet. "A baby is born at the Hall." + +"What?" exclaimed Mrs. Darling, starting up as she caught the words, +and all her lethargy was gone. "Is the baby born, Mary Anne?" + +For answer, Miss Darling read out the words: "On the 10th inst., at +Alnwick Hall, the wife of George Carleton St. John, Esquire, of a son +and heir." + +"I am glad it's a boy!" exclaimed Mrs. Darling. "How proud they will +be of it! On the 10th--that was yesterday. Then rely upon it those +bells Charlotte said she heard ringing, were for this. And now, how +can I manage it? I must contrive to see Mrs. St. John before we go +away." + +"But why, mamma?" + +"Why?" repeated Mrs. Darling, turning rather sharply on her daughter +Mary Anne, who had asked the question. "Because I should like to do +so; because it's neighbourly to go to her, poor young mother; because +it may be months before we are back here, and I have the opportunity +of seeing her again; and because I'm curious to hear all the +interesting particulars. That's why, Mary Anne: and I shall go." + +Mrs. Darling allowed no interference with her will--at least from +_these_ daughters, and Mary Anne was dutifully silent. "I was only +thinking, mamma, what an unpleasant day it would be for you to walk +over," she presently said. "And I don't see how you will have time for +it." + +"Plenty of time; and for the unpleasantness I don't care; you never +yet knew me to stop indoors for weather. Pretty Mrs. St. John! Let me +read the announcement for myself." + +She took the paper in her hand, and was gazing at the words with a +pleased smile, when the door again opened, and some one else +entered the room. A tall, elegant girl of apparently only three or +four-and-twenty, an imperious, regal, haughty girl, whose raven-black +hair was braided over pale, regular features, and whose rich +silk attire glistened and rustled as she walked. Who would have +believed that she was older by some three or four years than the +Miss Darlings?--who would have believed that they were even +half-sisters?--she, with her stately beauty, her costly attire, and +they with their homely faces, old-fashioned look, and plain green +merino gowns. Mrs. Darling had two daughters who absorbed all the +money that she could spare for dress; the eldest, Charlotte Norris, +and the youngest, whom you will meet by and by; no wonder that these two +middle ones, Mary Anne and Margaret, with their meek spirits and quiet +tastes, were obliged to dress in plain merinos. + +"Charlotte, here's news in the paper," Mary Anne was beginning, but +Mrs. Darling drowned the words: and Mary Anne saw with some momentary +surprise, that her mother had crushed the paper in her hand, as if not +caring that it should be seen. + +"Charlotte, my darling, _would_ you mind telling Prance that I shall +want my black silk cloak taken out of the hair-trunk again? Go to her +now, dear, before she has it corded." + +Miss Norris, who had still the door-handle in her hand, quitted the +room again. Mrs. Darling turned to her daughters. + +"Say nothing to Charlotte of this announcement. I will tell her of it +myself. It is my pleasure to do so." + +"I beg your pardon, mamma," said Mary Anne. "Of course you know best." + +Mrs. Darling did know best. At any rate, the two daughters before her +were taught to think so. Mary Anne and Margaret Darling had been +reared to implicit obedience in one respect--never to question the +line of conduct pursued by Mrs. Darling to their half-sister; never to +comment on it in the slightest degree. Mrs. Darling folded the +newspaper as small as she could, crammed it into her pocket, and +followed Charlotte upstairs. + +Later in the day she set out to walk to Alnwick Hall. It was growing +dark, and she had not intended to be so late as this, but one thing or +another had detained her. The Hall was nearly three miles distant from +her own home, through the village of Alnwick; but the road was by no +means lonely in any part of it. She walked quickly, not stopping to +speak to any one she met, and had left the village behind her some +time, and was nearing the Hall, when the death-bell of Alnwick church +rang out suddenly, but not very distinctly, on the heavy air. It was +quite dark then. + +"Poor old Mother Tipperton must be gone!" Mrs. Darling exclaimed to +herself, standing for a moment to listen. "Pym told me she could not +last long. Well, it was time: I suppose she was eighty." + +Not another thought, except of old Mother Tipperton, entered her mind; +not the faintest suspicion that the bell was tolling for one younger +and fairer. She went on, over the broad winding way through the +beautiful park, and gained the door of Alnwick Hall. + +It might have struck her--but it did not--that besides the man who +opened the door to her, other servants came peeping into the hall, as +if in curiosity as to the visitor. She stepped over the threshold out +of the gloomy night. + +"How is your mistress, Haines? Going on all right?" she asked, rubbing +her shoes on the mat. + +"Oh, ma'am, she's dead!" + +Mrs. Darling certainly heard the words, but they appeared not to +penetrate her senses. She stared at the speaker. + +"She is just dead, ma'am; not an hour ago. Two physicians were had to +her, besides Mr. Pym, but nothing could be done." + +Down sat Mrs. Darling on the hall bench. Perhaps only once before, in +her whole life, had she been so seized with consternation. + +"_Dead!_ Good Heavens! I came to sit half-an-hour with her before +leaving Alnwick, for I may not be back for months. What an awful +thing! Poor Caroline Carleton!" + +Drawing her cloak around her, Mrs. Darling crossed the hall towards +the housekeeper's room, unconsciously calling the deceased by her +maiden name, the one she had longest known her by. "I should like to +see the nurse," she said, "if she can spare a moment to come to me." + +The housekeeper, a stout, very respectable woman, who had come to the +hall a year ago with its now dead mistress, was at the table writing a +note as well as she could for her tears, when Mrs. Darling entered. +Laying down her pen, she told all she knew of the calamity, in reply +to the low and eager questions. But Mrs. Darling grew impatient. + +"A fine beautiful baby, you say--never mind the baby, Mrs. Tritton. +What can have caused the death?" + +The stout old lady shook her head. "She died from exhaustion, they +say, ma'am. But she had a fall a few days ago, and I believe that had +something to do with it. I can't bear to _think_ of it just yet. Alive +and well and merry but a day or two since; and now dead! It seems like +a dream." + +Her sobs deepened. The ready tears filled Mrs. Darling's eyes. She +wiped them away, and inquired what would be done about bringing up the +child. Mrs. Darling was a practical woman, and had never allowed +feeling to interfere with business. + +"That's the first great care," was the reply of the housekeeper. "Mr. +Pym does not know of any one just now that could come in. I suppose it +will have to be brought up by hand: and the master, I believe, wishes +that it should be. As Mr. Pym says, the boy's so big and strong, that +he'd bring himself up almost, if you put him outside the street-door. +And it's true." + +"Does Mr. St. John take it much to heart?" + +"Ay, that he does," was the emphatic reply. "He is shut up in his own +room where he keeps his business papers and things. But, ma'am"--and +the tone was suddenly subdued--"a body going by, and pausing a moment, +may hear his sobs. If any young husband ever loved a wife, Mr. +Carleton St. John loved his. Poor child! she's gone early to join her +parents!" + +Mrs. Darling, who had her full share of curiosity--and what woman has +not, in a case like this?--stole upstairs to see the baby; to see the +baby's poor young mother; to talk for a minute or two with the nurse, +Mrs. Dade, who could not come to her. And then she stole down again; +for time was getting on. The housekeeper asked her to take some +refreshment, but she declined, explaining that a summons to her sick +mother, who was very old, was taking her and her daughters away from +home. They were starting that evening by the seven-o'clock night +train. + +"And they are at the station already, I am sure," she said; "and I +must run all the way to it. Sad news this is, to cheer me on my +journey!" + +Sad indeed. And the public thought so as well as Mrs. Darling. The +same week the newspapers put forth another announcement. + +"On the 11th inst., at Alnwick Hall, in her twenty-third year, +Caroline, the beloved wife of George Carleton St. John." + + + + +CHAPTER II. +FAITHFUL TO THE DEAD. + + +"To remain faithful to the dead is not in man's nature." + +Such were the words spoken by Mrs. Carleton St. John in dying; and a +greater truth was never recorded by Solomon. + +The seasons had gone on; spring had succeeded to winter; summer to +spring; autumn was succeeding to summer. Nothing like a twelvemonth +had passed since the death, and yet rumour was whispering that George +Carleton St. John had begun to think of a second wife. + +The baby had thrived from its birth. Mr. St. John appeared to have an +invincible repugnance to any woman's supplying the place of its +mother; and so they fed the child upon the next best food that was +proper for it, and it had done well. The housekeeper strongly +recommended Mr. St. John a niece of her own to take care of it, and +the young woman arrived from a distance; a comely, fair-complexioned, +nice-looking young woman, named Honoria Tritton; and she entered upon +her charge. All things went smoothly; and Mr. St. John's first grief +yielded to time and change: as all griefs must so yield, under God's +mercy. + +Friends had come to visit Mr. St. John during the summer. Relatives, +they were, indeed, but distant ones. Gay people they proved to be; and +they stayed on, and gradually the Hall held its festal gatherings +again, and its master began to go out amongst the county families. +Whether it might be to escape the sorrow left on him by his great +loss, or to make things pleasanter for these visitors, certain it was +that George St. John no longer eschewed gaiety, whether in his own +house or abroad. Mrs. Tritton's opinion was, that he had invited his +relatives to stay with him, because he found his life now at the Hall +so monotonously dull. If so, their advent had had the desired effect, +and had taken him out of himself and his trouble. + +It is surprising, when once an effort of this sort is made, and we +awaken from a prolonged grief, how _easily_ that grief is laid aside. +Unconsciously it seems to slip away from us, and is forgotten, From +that eleventh day of November down to June, Mr. St. John had done +nothing but indulge his sorrow. It had grown calmer, of course, by +degrees; but he had not in the least striven to lift from himself its +bitterness. No very long term, some may say, this seven months; but +let me tell you that it is long when given wholly to tears and +solitude. A reaction must succeed to all violent emotion, even to that +caused by the death of one dearly beloved; and it came to George St. +John; came with the sojourn of his visitors. A fortnight's association +with them, and he was not the same man. As host, he had to exert +himself, and with the exertion came the pleasure in it. Ere June was +ended, he had forgotten three-parts of his sorrow. It seemed, as he +might have described it himself, to have slipped away from his heart, +leaving healing and semi-forgetfulness in its place. He would have +told you that he regretted his wife as much as ever; but he did not do +so; for other interests were reasserting their sway within him. Sorrow +had nearly spent itself, and was dying out. Do not blame him: man +cannot act against his nature; least of all when in the heyday of +youth. + +He could not offer a churlish reception to his visitors, who had +journeyed far to sojourn with him. They were of the world, and +expected to be entertained. Mr. St. John invited people to the Hall to +meet them; and went out with them in return. In July the county +families began to seek their homes after the whirl of the London +season, bringing their guests with them, and gay parties were the rule +of the hour. Archery, boating, lawn dances, dinners; never a day but +something more agreeable to the rest succeeded to the other. Mr. +Carleton was pressed to attend all, and did attend a great many. Can +you wonder at it? Of great prospective wealth, heir-presumptive to a +baronetcy, and withal an attractive man--the world knew how to +estimate him. But the prize was not as great as it had been, since no +other woman who might succeed in gaining him, or whom he might choose +himself irrespective of any seeking on her own part, could reasonably +hope to give birth to the heir that should succeed. That heir was +already in the world--the little child whose advent had cost a +precious life. + +It could not be said that Mr. St. John had very much right, especially +now, to the name of Carleton. His name had been simply George St. +John, until he married the rich heiress, Caroline Carleton: and with +her property he had to assume her name, for her dead father had so +enjoined it in his will. But for that expectant baronetage, he might +have added the new name _after_ his own. As it was, he did not do so. +The new name was rather a convenience: there were several branches of +the St. John family, one of them far higher in the world's social +scale than George St. John of Alnwick, or even his uncle the baronet; +and people fell into the habit of calling him Mr. Carleton, as a +distinction. The little child had also been christened Carleton. + +And so George Carleton St. John, yielding to the soothing hand of +time, forgot in a degree her who had lain on his bosom and made the +brief sunshine of his existence. He went out in the world again, and +held gatherings of his own, and was altogether reinstated in social +life. + +On a lovely day in September, Alnwick Hall was filled with guests. +Chiefest of all the fêtes by which that autumn and the neighbourhood +had been distinguished, was this last one held at the Hall. Mr. St. +John had spared neither pains nor money to render it attractive: and +he certainly succeeded. Brilliant groups were in the park, in the +temporary marquee on the lawn, and in the house itself; a sort of +_fête-champêtre_. Was it out of place, all that glittering gaiety, +with the closing scene of only ten months before?--the young life so +suddenly sacrificed? Perhaps so: but the idea did not once occur to +George St. John. It was not likely to do so now, when _another_ was +casting her spells upon his heart. I have told you that rumour had +already whispered of a second mistress at Alnwick. + +In a pleasant room, opening on one side to the conservatory, its front +windows looking to the park, several ladies were assembled. They were +of various ages, of various degrees of beauty. One stood conspicuous +amidst the rest. Not for her beauty, though that was great; not for +her dress, though that was all that can be imagined of costly +elegance; but for a certain haughty, imperious air, and a most +peculiar expression that would now and again gleam from her eyes. An +expression that many had observed and that none could fathom; a sort +of wild expression of absolute _will_. It was not often noticed; but +it was apparent just now. You have seen that tall, finely-formed girl +before, her well-set head, her swan-like neck; you have seen the pale +features, regular as any ever carved in sculpture, the thin lips so +firmly closed, the luxuriant raven hair. Quiet to a degree in bearing +and manner, in spite of her haughty air there was an indisputable +attraction about her. Could the rumour be true--that the greatest +match of the county was about to be laid at Charlotte Morris's feet? +If so, what a triumph for her mother; what a triumph for herself, so +proud and portionless. + +Mrs. Norris (she was Mrs. Darling, you know) stood by her side. Very +pretty still, but not half as grand a woman as her daughter. Charlotte +looked well today; never better; in her pretty white gossamer bonnet +and sweeping white bernouse, you could not have thought her to be much +past twenty. And the ladies around looked on her with envious eyes, +and repeated over to themselves, what a triumph for Mrs. Norris +Darling! + +Perhaps so; but that lady was as yet unconscious of it. She had no +more idea that that particular triumph was in store for her, or that +Charlotte had, even in rumour, been given to Mr. St. John of Alnwick, +than had Alnwick's little heir, who was crowing before her eyes at +that moment. This was the first time Mrs. Darling had been to the Hall +since that melancholy evening visit in the past November. Only the +previous day had she returned to her cottage home. + +In the centre of the ladies stood a young woman, holding the baby. +That he was a fine baby none could dispute. He was not indeed what +could be called a pretty child, but a rather unusual look of +intelligence for one so young distinguished his features and his clear +grey eyes, rendering his face excessively pleasing. And had he +possessed all the beauty that since the creation of man has been said +or sung, those fair women, displacing one another around him, could +not have bestowed more praise upon him--for he was the heir of +Alnwick, and Alnwick's possessor was there to hear it. + +George St. John's cheeks were flushed with pleasure, and his eyes +shone as he listened to the flattery; for he fondly loved his child. +The little boy wore a broad black sash on his white frock, black +ribbons tied up his sleeves, and his pretty round fat arms were +stretched out to any one who would notice him. + +"Yes, he is a fine little fellow," observed Mr. St. John, more +gratified as the praises increased. "He will walk soon." + +"Pray is that his nurse?" inquired Mrs. Norris Darling, scanning the +maid through her eye-glass. "What is your name, young woman?" + +"My name is Honoria, madam," replied the girl, looking pleased and +curtseying, "but they call me Honour. Honoria Tritton." + +"And what is the name of this dear child?" asked Miss Norris, drawing +nearer. "I have always heard him called Baby." + +"Well, his name gets abbreviated for the same reason that we shorten +Honour's," laughed Mr. St. John. "He was christened Benjamin, but is +universally known amongst us as Benja." + +Mrs. Norris Darling (let us give her both names once in a way!) +continued to examine the nurse by the help of the glass. She needed a +glass just as much as you or I, reader; and had she not been +surrounded by that fashionable crowd, would as soon have thought of +looking at Honour through the ring of her parasol. But pretentiousness +is given to many little ways pertaining to pretentiousness, and +that is one of them. Mrs. Norris Darling possessed an idea that an +eye-glass added immensely in some way to her dignity. She turned her +glass on Honour from top to toe, in the same cool manner that other +glasses are turned; and she saw a sensible-looking young woman, with a +clear, fair skin, a good forehead, and truthful light blue eyes. + +"Honoria Tritton?" she repeated. "You must be a relative of Mr. +Carleton St. John's housekeeper! Have you had sole charge of the +baby?" + +"Oh yes, madam, the sole charge." + +"It is a great responsibility," remarked Mrs. Norris Darling, dropping +the glass, and speaking, not to Honour, but to the ladies around. + +Mr. St. John had taken his child from the nurse's arms, and was fondly +caressing it. His very actions, his movements, betrayed the depth of +his affection, and a sharp feeling of jealousy shot through the heart +of the beautiful Miss Norris as she watched him. "Will he ever love +another child as he loves this one?" was the thought that arose +unbidden to her mind. No, never, Miss Norris; you need not ask or wish +it: man does not love another as he loves his first-born. + +But her beautiful features were smooth as polished crystal as she drew +near to Mr. St. John. He glanced at her with a welcoming smile. + +"Do let me nurse him!" she said in low tones. "I adore children; and +this one seems made to be loved." + +Mr. St. John resigned the boy to her. She carried him away into the +conservatory, to a remote bench out of sight, sat down, and amused him +with her gold neck-chain. The little fellow sat confidingly on her +knee; one hand enclosing her fore-finger, the other grasping the +glittering coil. Mr. St. John followed her. + +"Look at him!" she said, her quiet face changed to rapture as she +glanced at Mr. St. John. "Look at his nimble little fingers and bright +eyes! How happy he is!" + +"Happy in all things save one," whispered Mr. St. John, leaning over +the child, but gazing at herself. "He has no mother to love and guide +him." + +Those unfathomable eyes of hers were cast down, so that the eyelids +concealed them, and a crimson flush mantled to her usually pale +cheeks. + +"He wants a mother," proceeded Mr. St. John; "he _must_ have a mother. +Not now will I urge it, when so many are near; but, Charlotte, you +know whom I would entreat to be that mother and my beloved wife." + +A strange whirl of agitation shook her, impeding instant utterance. +Mr. St. John saw the signs, and laid his hand upon her with a smile.. + +"Ought you to talk to me of a _beloved_ wife?" she asked, in an +impassioned tone, as she glanced momentarily up at him. "She who lies +buried in her grave was yours." + +"I did not love her as I shall love you," he hastened to avow--and in +the moment's fervour it may be that he thought he spoke truth. "Had I +known _you_ better then, I might never have chosen her." + +"Yet see how you love her child!" + +"And I will passionately love any that may be born to you, Charlotte," +he whispered. But the very remark, had Mr. St. John been cool enough +or wise enough to analyze it, might have told him that her heart, even +now, before she was anything to him, was shaken by jealousy of the +child. He was neither cool nor wise just then. + +He bent his head lower and lower; he murmured vows of everlasting +tenderness; he suffered his face to rest against hers, as it had once +rested against that of his dying wife. She resisted not. But when a +host of intruders came flocking in, she raised her haughty head, and +swept on with a scornful step, as she resigned the infant into the +arms of its nurse. + +George St. John had loved his wife with the fresh, rapturous feelings +that he could never know again; and he loved her memory. Yet, here he +was, ere ten short months had elapsed, willing to swear to another +that she was the first who had awakened true passion in his heart! But +Caroline Carleton had faded from his sight, and Charlotte Norris stood +before him in all her beauty. It is the way of man; ay, and often of +woman. _To remain faithful to the dead is not in man's nature_. + +The fête was over, and they were driving home--Mrs. Darling and her +daughter. To judge by the manner of the two ladies, one might have +thought it was the mother who had received so momentous a proposal; +not the daughter. Charlotte sat quiet and calm, leaning back in her +corner of the chariot; Mrs. Darling was flushed, restless, evidently +disturbed. Mr. St. John had said to her a word of enlightenment in +parting, and it startled her out of her equanimity. + +"Charlotte," she began--and not until they were drawing near the end +of their homeward road, and the village of Alnwick was left behind +them, did she speak--"Charlotte, I hope I misunderstood Mr. St. John?" + +Charlotte lifted her eyes. "I do not know to what you allude, mamma. +In what do you hope you misunderstood Mr. St. John?" + +"He hinted to me that he should call tomorrow to speak to me about +you. Charlotte, it will be of no use: I cannot let you marry Mr. +Carleton." + +"Please not to call him by that name," was the quiet rejoinder. + +"Mr. St. John, then--what does it matter? I should not like you to +marry him. Has he really asked you to be his wife?" + +"Yes." + +"It must have been very sudden!" + +"Not so. I think we have understood each other for some little time +past." + +"Then he has been in the habit of coming to the cottage?" + +"Oh yes." + +Mrs. Darling, who had raised herself in some commotion as she asked +the last question, sank back again, and a look of mortification, of +mental trouble, settled on her face. The carriage was approaching +their door ere she spoke again, her tones betraying an agitation that +was ill suppressed. + +"I cannot spare you, Charlotte! Charlotte, my darling, I cannot spare +you! How often have I hoped, and urged, and prayed that you would +never leave me--that you would be the one to stay and cheer my old +age!" + +Charlotte shook her head with a smile. Had her mother been less +agitated, less evidently in earnest, she might have enlarged on the +unreasonableness of such a wish. As it was, she only answered +playfully, that her mother need not think of old age these twenty +years. + +"Are you marrying him for his money--his position?" resumed Mrs. +Darling. + +"I am tired, mamma; I wish you wouldn't question me. Really I can't +exactly particularize why I am marrying him." + +"_You_ a second wife! Have you reflected, Charlotte, that Caroline +Carleton was his first choice; that there's already an heir to Alnwick +who will inherit all; that George St. John has hardly a shilling +beyond his entailed estates----" + +"Don't mamma!" was Charlotte's interruption, and her brow had +contracted as if in pain. "It is quite useless your saying this. I +should marry George St. John, though I knew that I must beg my bread +afterwards from door to door." + +A moan, as of one in sorrow too great for utterance, broke from the +lips of Mrs. Darling, and she sank back in the carriage and clasped +her hands in pain. + + + + +CHAPTER III. +THE UNEXPLAINED REASON. + + +Not a word was spoken by either mother or daughter as they entered +their home. The little French clock in the drawing-room pointed to +eleven--for the festivities at the Hall had been prolonged into +evening--and Charlotte, perhaps afraid of further contention, said +good night, and went up at once to her chamber. Mrs. Darling threw off +her cloak and bonnet and began to pace the room. It was rather a habit +of hers when disturbed or vexed. + +Never had she been so disturbed as now. Her ordinary crosses had been +but light ones, which she scolded or talked away; _this_ seemed to be +too deep, too real, for any talking. + +It might be unreasonable; every one who knew of it said it was so; +but Mrs. Darling had lived in the ardent hope that her eldest +daughter--more fondly cherished by her than all the rest--would never +leave her, never marry. She had planned and schemed against it. Some +two or three years ago, a suspicion arose in her mind that Charlotte +was falling in love with George St. John, and she checked it by +carrying off Charlotte, and keeping her away until the danger was +over. He had married Caroline Carleton before they came back again. No +one living had suspected this manoeuvre on the mother's part, or that +Charlotte had been in danger of loving the master of Alnwick--if she +had not loved him--except Margaret Darling. Surely it must have been +unreasonable. Mr. St. John was a free man then in every sense of the +word, and Charlotte's son, had she married him and borne one, would +have been the heir! + +That Mrs. Darling's love for Charlotte had always been inordinate, +those about them knew. But, as a woman of the world, she might have +foreseen how utterly powerless would be a mother's love to keep her +daughter always by her side. Charlotte once said to her in a joking +way, that she had better put her into a convent, and make a nun of +her: and indeed that would have been about the only way of preventing +it. And now, in spite of her precaution, Charlotte was about to marry; +to be a second wife. That fact alone brought some gall to Mrs. +Darling. + +She had deemed Charlotte so secure. She had never dreamt of the +treason that was afloat. Their visit to her old mother in Berkshire +had been prolonged until June, and all that time Charlotte had been +safe under her own eye. In June, old Mrs. Darling (it was the same +name, for Mrs. Darling's second husband had been a distant cousin) +grew so convalescent that they had no scruple in quitting her; and +Mrs. Darling had despatched Charlotte to Alnwick under convoy of Mary +Anne, who was so much older than her years, and might be thoroughly +trusted. Margaret remained behind with her grandmother, and Mrs. +Darling went to France to see her youngest daughter Rose, who was at +school there. She only intended to be absent a fortnight; by the end +of that time she meant to be at Alnwick; but ere it was concluded, she +was summoned back in haste to her old mother, who had had a relapse. +So that it was September before Mrs. Darling really returned to +Alnwick. She arrived just in time to attend the fête at Mr. St. +John's, and she went to it without any more prevision of what was to +happen than a child unborn. + +It was the first time that Charlotte had been away from her, and she +was blaming herself bitterly. Perhaps self-reproach was never sharper +than Mrs. Darling's as she paced the drawing-room this night. It +seemed to her, now, that she might have foreseen something of the +sort; that she should have kept her attractive daughter under her +own eye. But she thought she had taken every precaution. She had +charged Mary Anne not to admit gentlemen as visitors during her +absence--unless, she had added, they were of a certain standing as to +age, and married. Some few she had especially interdicted by name. +Above all others would she have interdicted Mr. St. John of Alnwick, +had she supposed that this would be the result; and she mentally +heaped the most bitter reproaches on Mary Anne, and felt that she +should like to shake her. + +She turned to the bell with a sudden impulse, and rang it; indeed, +Mrs. Darling was always an impulsive woman. All the servants had gone +upstairs on Mrs. Darling's entrance, except the lady's-maid; hours +were early in the quiet household. Mary Prance came in: a slender +woman of five-and-thirty, with dark eyes and brown marks on her thin +face; she wore a neat grey alpaca gown and small white linen +wristbands and collar. A woman devoted to her mistress's interests, +but disliked by the servants, who went so far as to call her a +"deceitful cat." But Mary Prance was a clever woman, and not deceitful +on the whole. She gratefully liked Mrs. Darling, who was always kind +to her, and she loved the eldest daughter; but she cared for no one +else in the wide world. She had entered the service as housemaid, a +young girl, but her mistress had called her "Prance" from the first. +Mrs. Darling--you remember the hint I gave you--could not call her +servants by their simple Christian names. She turned sharply as the +door opened. + +"Where's Miss Darling?" + +"Miss Darling has been in bed some time, ma'am. She went at eight +o'clock. Her sore-throat was painful, though a trifle easier." + +"Prance, who has visited here during my absence?" interrupted Mrs. +Darling, impatiently drowning the words. "What gentlemen?" + +The lady's-maid considered for a moment, recalling the visitors. "Dr. +Graves, ma'am; he has come the oftenest, I think. And Mr. Pym, and old +Sir William----" + +"Not those old people, Prance; I don't care to hear about them," said +Mrs. Darling, peevishly. "I mean young men---single men." + +"Not any, I think," answered Prance, after a pause. "Miss Darling was +denied to them." + +"Mr. St. John of Alnwick has come?" + +"Oh yes, Mr. St. John has come. He has come often." + +With the answer, Mrs. Darling quitted the room for the chamber of her +unconsciously offending daughter. The poor girl woke up, hot and +startled at the unexpected entrance; at the sharp questions that so +rudely assailed her ear. Not for some few moments did she understand +sufficiently to answer. + +Mr. Carleton St. John? Yes, he had been there rather frequently in the +past few weeks. Had Charlotte had opportunities of seeing him alone? +Yes, very likely she had; it might be so. + +"Did you know," resumed Mrs. Darling, suppressing the storm of +reproaches so ready to break from her lips, "that any attachment was +arising between her and Mr. St. John?" + +"No, mamma, I never knew it," replied Mary Anne, fully awake now. "I +did not think of such a thing. _Has_ it arisen?" + +"Yes, it has arisen, you unhappy, careless creature, and I fear that +she's going to marry him," retorted Mrs. Darling. "You are a hundred +years older than Charlotte in staid experience. I entrusted her to +your charge here as I might a younger sister, and you have suffered +her to meet George St. John, and this is the result! I shall never +forgive you, Mary Anne. Did I not warn you that I would have no single +men calling here during my absence?" + +"But--but--Mr. St. John is not a single man," returned the unfortunate +Mary Anne, too bewildered to collect her senses. "I'm sure I did not +think of him as anything but a widower steeped in grief. It seems only +the other day that his wife died. I did not think of him at all as a +marrying man." + +Neither, in point of fact, had Mrs. Darling, or she might have +expressly interdicted his visits by name, as she had those of others. + +Mary Anne Darling was collecting her wits. She sat up in bed, thinking +possibly that might help her. "Mamma, you _cannot_ really expect to +keep Charlotte unmarried! Remember her beauty. If it were me or +Margaret, you might----" + +"You or Margaret!" screamed Mrs. Darling, excessively incensed at +something or other in the words. "I wish you were both going to be +married tomorrow! or tonight, for the matter of that." + +"I was going to ask you, mamma," pursued Mary Anne, meek still in +spite of the covert sneer, "what objection you can possibly have to +her marrying Mr. St. John?" + +"That's my business and not yours," said Mrs. Darling, tartly. + +Mary Anne had never heard her mother altogether so cross, never seen +her so vexed, and the girl wondered excessively. Hitherto, she had +supposed the objection which existed to Charlotte's marrying, and +which she had not failed to detect, arose from an exalted idea on her +mother's part that no one likely to present himself was worthy of Miss +Norris in a worldly point of view. But surely this could not apply to +Mr. St. John of Alnwick! She spoke again, pursuing her train of +thought. + +"He will be Sir George St. John sometime, mamma; he will be more +wealthy than he is now. It is really a better match than even +Charlotte could have hoped for." + +"I would give every shilling I possess in the world, rather than +Charlotte should marry him!" spoke Mrs. Darling, in low, determined +tones. "I would sacrifice half the years I have yet to live to keep +her with me always! I shall never forgive you, Mary Anne. When you +found that George St. John was taking to come here, you ought to have +sent me word." + +"Mamma, listen. I have told you that I never thought of such a thing +as that Mr. Carleton St. John came, or could come, with any such idea; +he, who has only just lost his wife. But if I had thought of it, if I +had known it, what would have been my will against Charlotte's? It +might have pleased her that he should be admitted; and you know you +have taught us to give way to her in all things." + +"Then you might have written to me. I repeat to you, Mary Anne, that +I shall never forgive you." + +"It must be, that he was previously married--that Charlotte's children +will not inherit," cried Mary Anne, speaking aloud in her wonder, as +she strove to find reasonable grounds for the objection to Mr. St. +John. "But----" + +"Hold your tongue," interrupted Mrs. Darling. "You have done mischief +enough, without seeking for reasons that may not be disclosed." + +More and more surprised grew Mary Anne. The last words were not spoken +in reproach or anger, but in a tone of deep, bitter pain. They bore a +sound of wailing, of lamentation; and she could only stare after her +mother in silence, as Mrs. Darling quitted the room not less abruptly +than she had entered it. + +Mary Anne Darling lay down again, and curled the clothes round her +with a pettish movement, feeling excessively aggrieved. But that was +nothing new. She and Margaret had suffered all their lives through +Charlotte, and had never rebelled. Miss Norris had been first and +foremost; had received all the love, all the consideration, all the +care; the house had only seemed to go on in reference to the +well-being and convenience of its eldest daughter. + +Brought up to this from their earliest years, Mary Anne and Margaret +Darling had accepted it as one of life's obligations. But the young +lady was feeling now that she was being unjustly censured. If there +did exist any objection to Mr. Carleton St. John, Charlotte should be +blamed for falling in love with him, or else be made to relinquish +him. But Miss Darling did not believe in any objection: she thought +her mother only wished to keep Charlotte to herself in her jealous +affection--that she could not bear to part with her. + +"I never knew anything so unreasonable," grumbled the young lady, +giving the pillow a fierce poke upwards. "Charlotte was sure to marry +sometime, and but for her mother's great watchfulness, she'd have been +married before this. I _cannot_ understand mamma. What though +Charlotte _is_ the apple of her eye, ought she to wish to prevent her +fulfilling woman's proper destiny? The love of most mothers causes +them to wish their daughters to marry; some to go the length of +scheming for it: in this case it is schemed against. It is very +selfish, very inconsistent; and yet mamma is not a selfish woman! I +can't understand her." + +Mrs. Darling's opposition was not yet over. She sat the next day in +her own room, thinking what an ill-used woman she was, calling up +every little remembered cross of her past life; as many of us are +prone to do in moments of annoyance, when things wear a gloomy aspect. +She had married--a girl not out of her teens--Mr. Norris, of Norris +Court, a gentleman whose standing in the county was almost as good as +that of the St. Johns of Alnwick. But ere she had well realized her +position as the wife of a wealthy man, the mistress of a place so +charming as Norris Court; almost ere her baby was born, Mr. Norris +died, and the whole thing seemed to pass from her as a dream. Had the +child proved a boy she had been well off, and Norris Court still been +hers as a residence; proving a girl, it lapsed from her to the next +male heir in the entail. She turned out of it with her baby, the +little Charlotte, and a small income of a few hundreds a year. These +hundreds, at her own death, would be Charlotte's. The pretty house she +had since called her home was in point of fact Charlotte's, not hers. +It had come to Charlotte on her father's death, but she had it to +reside in for her life. Norris Court was two miles distant from +Alnwick; and Mrs. Norris in her young widowhood had quarrelled with +its new possessors. The breach had never been healed, so that +Charlotte was a stranger to her forefathers' home. Except for this +cottage and the few hundreds a year, all in expectation, Charlotte +Norris had nothing. How Mrs. Norris had bewailed these past untoward +circumstances, her own heart alone knew. + +Her own subsequent marriage with Colonel Darling had not greatly +improved her circumstances in the long-run. At the Colonel's death, +the chief portion of what he had passed to their son. A little was +settled on the daughters, and Mrs. Darling had a certain benefit for +life. But altogether her income was not a large one, especially +considering her many wants, and that she was not one who could make a +sovereign go as far as most people; and Mrs. Darling was in the habit +of thinking that fate might have been kinder to her. In the lost +glories of Norris Court, present benefits, real though they were, were +overlooked. But for these comparisons, bred of discontent, some of us +would get on better in the world than we do. + +She sat in her own room, glancing back at these past grievances, +dwelling on others that were more recent. It was the day following the +fête. The interview with Mr. Carleton St. John was over, and Charlotte +was his promised wife. Mrs. Darling had done what she could to oppose +it--to the secret surprise of Mr. St. John; but her opposition was +untenable, and had broken down. "If you have any tangible objection to +me, name it, and let me combat it as I best may," said Mr. St. John. +But apparently Mrs. Darling could bring forward none, save the +foolishly fond one that she could not part with Charlotte; and the +engagement took place. As Mrs. Darling sat now, alone, her mind was +still busy with a hundred wild schemes for its frustration. + +But she saw clearly that they would all be worse than useless; that +unless there was some special interposition of Providence, Charlotte +would go to Alnwick. What was the secret of her opposition? Ah, my +reader, you must turn over many pages ere you arrive at that. She had +one very great and good reason for dreading the marriage of her +daughter with George St. John of Alnwick. + +Charlotte happened to come into the room as she sat there. Mrs. +Darling held out her hand; and Charlotte--who might have looked +radiant with happiness but that she and her countenance were of an +undemonstrative nature in general--came and sat on a stool at her +feet, her dress, bright mauve muslin, floating around, her delicate +hands raised from their open lace sleeves to her mother's knee. + +"I must say a few words to you, Charlotte. Promise to hear me +patiently and calmly." + +"Of course I will, mamma." + +"There's no of course in the matter, I fear. Times have been, +Charlotte, when----" + +"Oh mamma, never mind all that. I'm going to be good. Tell me what it +is." + +"Do you remember, some three years ago--yes, it must be quite three +years now, for we did not leave London that year until August--that we +saw a good deal of George St. John? We had met him in London that +season; we met him on our return here; and he fell into the habit of +calling on us often." + +"I remember," replied Charlotte. + +"The beginning of October we left home for Paris; a sudden resolution +on my part, you girls thought; which was true. Charlotte, I must tell +you now why I went. I was taking you from danger; I was carrying you +away from George St. John." + +A momentary glance upwards of Charlotte's eyes. Did Mrs. Darling read +anger in them? That something made her quail, there was no doubt, and +she laid firm hold of both those slender wrists resting on her knee. + +"For your sake, Charlotte; it was for your sake. I feared you were +growing to love him." + +"And if I were?" retorted Charlotte. + +There was a long pause. Mrs. Darling appeared to be weighing some +question with herself: she looked anxious, troubled, undecided: but +she still held the hands with a firm grasp. + +"Charlotte, I want you to trust me. There is a reason, why you should +not become the wife of Mr. Carleton of Alnwick; but I cannot tell you +what it is. I cannot so much as hint at its nature. I want you to +trust me that this cause does exist; and to act upon it." + +"To act upon it?" + +"By declining to become Mrs. Carleton St. John." + +"No," said Charlotte, very quietly. "What is the cause?" + +"My darling, I have said that I cannot tell you: and that is why I ask +you to trust me as confidently as you did when a little child. The +thought came over me just now, while Mr. Carleton was here, to speak +openly to him. The next moment I felt faint and sick with dread at the +bare thought. I may not tell Mr. Carleton; I will not tell you----" + +"I do wish you wouldn't call him by that name!" Charlotte interrupted. + +"My dear, it is that I have fallen into the habit of it," murmured +Mrs. Darling. + +"It's like a scene in a play," exclaimed Charlotte. "I may not marry +George St. John for some reason, and I may not know what the reason +is! He is not going to turn out my brother, or cousin, I suppose? +Rather romantic, that, for these matter-of-fact days!" + +"Oh, Charlotte, be serious! Do not indulge in nonsense now. You know +that you are Charlotte Norris, and that he is George St. John; and +that you never were related yet. It is not that: I wish it were +nothing else." + +"What is it?" + +"I cannot tell you, Charlotte. I cannot; I cannot." + +"Have you heard anything against him, that you are concealing?" + +Mrs. Darling lifted her hand to her face, partially hiding it. She did +not answer the question. + +"Charlotte, you know how I love you. Well, I would almost rather see +you die, than married to George St. John. No mother ever schemed to +get her daughter a husband, as I schemed three years ago to keep you +from one, when my suspicions were aroused that you were in danger of +loving George St. John." + +"The danger had ripened," said Charlotte, in low tones. "I did love +him." + +"My poor girl! And _his_ love, though I did not know it then, was +given to Caroline Carleton----" + +"Don't say it!" interrupted Charlotte: and for the second time during +their interview Mrs. Darling quailed, the tone was so wild, so full of +pain. "I do not wish to be spoken to of his first wife," she added +calmly, after a pause. + +"You will not, surely, be his second, Charlotte! Charlotte, my +Charlotte! You will not break my heart!" + +"You will break mine, if you forbid me to marry Mr. St. John," was the +whispered answer. "But indeed, mamma, I think we are talking +nonsense," broke off Charlotte. "I am no longer a child. I am nearly +nine-and-twenty; and that's rather too old to be told I may not marry, +when there's no real cause why I should not do so." + +"No real cause! What have I been saying, Charlotte?" + +"I think there is none. I think what you are saying must be a +chimera." + +Mrs. Darling let fall the hands she held; she had only hoped against +hope. Charlotte rose and bent over her mother to kiss her, whispering +a few decisive words. Cruel words to her mother's heart. + +"It is of no use trying to separate us, mamma. You did enough mischief +in separating us before--but until this hour, I knew not that you +acted intentionally. But for that, I might have been his first wife, +chosen before all." + +Charlotte Norris was wrong, so far: Mr. St. John's love had never +before been given to her: it never would be given to her as it had +been to Caroline Carleton. The first fresh green of the heart's spring +had had its day, and was gone for ever. + +A few more days; another attempt or two, futile as this one; a short, +sharp battle with her secret wishes, and Mrs. Darling gave up +opposition, and grew apparently reconciled to what she could not +prevent. And in midwinter, just after the new year came in, the +newspapers had another piece of news to relate, concerning Mr. St. +John. + +"On the 2nd of January, at the church of St. Mary, Alnwick, by the +Reverend Dr. Graves, George Carleton St. John, Esquire, of Alnwick +Hall, to Charlotte Augusta, only child of the late Herbert Norris, +Esquire, of Norris Court." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. +A NEW MISTRESS AT ALNWICK. + + +The mourning habiliments hitherto prevailing at Alnwick Hall were put +aside during the wedding-tour of its master, and the servants appeared +in gayer colours. Master Benja's grey merino frock was exchanged for a +scarlet, and the black sash and sleeve-knots were replaced by white +ones. Benja was a sturdy little fellow of fourteen months now, +sufficiently forward in walking to get about the room and bring +himself into all manner of mischief. + +A second marriage, a new mistress suddenly brought to an established +home, rarely gives pleasure to its inmates. This applies in an +especial degree to its women-servants. Whatever the cause may be, or +whence the feeling in the jealous human heart takes its rise, it is an +indisputable fact, that the second marriage of a master is rarely +liked, and the new bride is regarded with anything but love. The case +was such at the Hall. Tritton, the housekeeper, had lived in the +family of Miss Carleton before she was Mrs. St. John; had come with +her to the Hall when she married; and it was only natural, perhaps +that she should look upon her successor somewhat in the light of a +usurper. Honour shared the feeling. Ardently attached to her young +charge, having been _trusted_ with him, possessing almost full control +over him, the prospect of a new mother for the boy and a mistress for +herself could not be palatable. But both Tritton and Honour were +conscientious, good women; and there is no doubt this feeling would +have soon worn itself out, but for circumstances that occurred to +increase it. + +Mrs. Darling was not wise. Her intentions no doubt were good, but her +judgment was not so. From the day following that of the ceremony, when +Mr. and Mrs. St. John were fairly away, Mrs. Darling haunted the Hall. +Anxious for the comfort of Charlotte as she had never been for +anything in her life, she fell into the mistake of interfering with +Charlotte's future home before she entered upon it. She went about the +house, peering here, peeping there; she had changes wrought in the +rooms, in the furniture; she found fault with the arrangements made by +the servants, who had done their best, and superseded them at will. +She changed the position of beds, she examined linen, she turned Benja +and Honour from their day-nursery into another; she ordered this to be +done, she countermanded that. This might have been tolerated in Mrs. +Darling; indeed it must have been; but what the servants could not and +would not tolerate, was a second edition of it in Prance. Prance +generally accompanied her mistress to the Hall; one or two nights was +left to sleep there; Mrs. Darling's worrying orders were often +transmitted through Prance; and Prance, as unwise as her mistress, +assumed a supercilious superiority (which indeed was partly her +natural manner) excessively distasteful to Mr. St. John's rather +indulged but most respectable household. + +It was a sad mistake. It was perhaps the first link in a heavy chain, +whose fetters would have to be worn for ever. Mrs. Darling ought to +have waited until her daughter came home, she could then have +suggested these alterations privately to her if she deemed them so +essential, and suffered Charlotte's own authority to carry them out. +How Mrs. Darling, a shrewd, sensible, easy woman in general, fell into +the error, must remain a marvel. It caused the servants to look upon +her as a meddling, underbred woman, who was interfering most +unjustifiably in what did not concern her. She was really nothing of +the sort; it all arose from her surpassing anxiety for Charlotte's +comfort. + +This, I say, must have been borne from Mrs. Darling; but when that +unfortunate Prance came in, all the resentment was turned upon her. +Prance ordered after her mistress. Worse still, she did not order as +from her mistress, but as from herself; and her cold, you-must-obey-me +tones, exasperated, the maids at the Hall almost to rebellion. Putting +present ill-feeling apart, the result was unfortunate: for it created +a prejudice against their new mistress, which Mrs. St. John would have +to live down. Altogether, what with the advent of the new wife, the +perpetual visitation of Mrs. Darling, and the hatred to Prance, +Alnwick Hall was kept in a state of internal commotion. + +In the midst of this, the day came round for the return of Mr. St. +John and his bride. In the afternoon, Master Benja, in apple-pie +order, the short scarlet frock and the white ribbons--for they were +expected to arrive every hour--was toddling about the nursery, drawing +a horse. Honour, in a new cap with white satin trimming, sat watching +him, and talking to one of the housemaids, Edy, who had looked in for +a gossip. + +It may be as well that you should notice how these nurseries were +situated. They were at the _side_ of the house facing the east. Mr. +St. John's bedroom was at the end, looking on to the park, and forming +as it were an angle on that side the house. You saw the room once; +some one was dying in it. His room opened to two others, one on either +side of it. The one looking to the front was his own dressing-room; +the other looking to the side, had been called the dressing-room of +the late Mrs. St. John; and all three rooms opened to the gallery. It +was this last room that had been Benja's nursery, and out of which +Mrs. Darling had turned him. The next room to this, which opened to no +other room, was the new day-nursery. Honour and Benja are in it now. +And beyond it, the last room on this side the house, was the one in +which Honour and Benja slept. The next to this, the first one looking +to the north at the back of the house, was Mrs. Tritton's--but it is +unnecessary to mention that. The passage in which the doors of these +nurseries were situated was narrow, not like the wide front corridor +or gallery. Immediately opposite the door of Benja's bed-chamber was +the back staircase used by the servants. Honour, with her charge, was +the only one who assumed the privilege of passing up and down the +front stairs. It was as well to mention this: you will see why, later. +Honour bitterly resented being turned from the nursery. It was +unreasonable that she should do so (though perhaps not unnatural), as +the room would be required for the new Mrs. St. John. + +She was gossiping with the housemaid in the manner that servants like +to gossip, when a voice in the next room startled them both. It was +the voice of Prance; and the servants had not known she was in the +house. + +"There's that woman here again!" exclaimed Edy, in a whisper. + +Honour had her finger to her lip in an attitude of listening. She +wondered to whom Prance was talking. Tones that could not be mistaken +for any but Mrs. Darling's, answered her. In point of fact, Mrs. +Darling had come over to receive her daughter, bringing Prance to +carry a few last trifling belongings of Charlotte's. + +"Of course!" ejaculated Honour. "I knew _they'd_ be here." + +Honour was good in the main; sincere, thoroughly trustworthy; but she +was not exempt from the prejudice to which her class is especially +prone. You cannot help these things. It was her custom, whenever she +found Mrs. Darling and her maid appeared upstairs, to catch up Benja +and dart down to the housekeeper's room, with a vague feeling, arising +from resentment, of carrying Benja out of their reach. She took him up +now, horse and all, and was making her way to the backstairs when +Mrs. Darling suddenly looked out of a chamber and called to her. + +There could be no pretending not to hear. She had been seen, and +therefore was obliged to arrest her steps. It had not come to open +rebellion against Mrs. Darling. + +"I want you, Honour. Step here a minute." + +"Carry the baby down, Edy," whispered Honour, giving her the child. +"Tell Mrs. Tritton that they are up here, if she does not know it," +she added, as a parting fling. + +When Edy reached the housekeeper's room, she found it empty, except +for the presence of a woman in black, who sat there with her things +on, and who laid siege to the baby as if she had a right to him. It +was the nurse, Mrs. Dade, who came occasionally to see the child, as +she had opportunity. Edy, only a few months in the service, did not +recognize her. Edy willingly resigned the charge, and made her way to +the hall as fast as her feet could carry her: for a bustle in it +warned her that their new mistress had arrived, and all her woman's +curiosity was aroused. + +She was crossing the hall on Mr. St. John's arm, a smile of greeting +on her pale face as she glanced to the right and left. Mr. St. John +laughed and talked, and mentioned two or three of the principal +servants by name to his wife. Edy stood in a nook behind the rest, and +peeped out; and just then Mrs. Darling, having become aware of the +arrival, came down the stairs with loud words of welcome. + +The bustle over, Mrs. Tritton went back to her own room, shutting the +door upon Edy. Nurse Dade had the boy on her knee, talking to him; and +Honour, a privileged visitor, came in. Honour's tongue could be rather +a sharp one on occasion; but the unexpected sight of the nurse +arrested it for the moment. + +"I should not have come up today, had I known," Nurse Dade was saying +to the housekeeper. "It must be a busy day with you." + +"Middling for that: not very. You heard of the marriage, I suppose?" + +"I saw it in the newspapers. I had not heard of it till then. I have +been away for six months, you see, and news came to me slowly. How +well this little fellow gets on, Honour! You have done your part by +him, that's certain." + +Honour gave a sort of ungracious assent to the remark. + +"What do you think she wanted with me?" asked she, turning to the +housekeeper, alluding to Mrs. Darling. "You know that pretty sketch +that master drew of Benja in the straw hat, one day in the garden, and +hung it up in his bedroom? Well, she called me in to say she thought +it had better be taken down and put elsewhere. I told her I must +decline to meddle with my master's things, and especially with that, +though it was done only on the leaf of a copy-book; and I wouldn't +touch it. She first looked at me and then at the sketch; but just then +there was a bustle in the hall; she ran down and I came away." + +"And it's left hanging?" + +"It's left hanging. Ah!"--and Honour drew a long breath--"Nurse Dade, +we have changes here." + +"There's changes everywhere, I think," responded the nurse. "But I +must say I was surprised when I read it in the papers. So soon! and to +recollect what his grief was _then!_ But law! it's the way of the +world." + +Honour took Benja, carried him to the far end of the room, and began +amusing him with his horse. They made a considerable amount of noise, +almost drowning the voices of the two women by the fire. + +"Do you happen to know her?" the housekeeper had asked, and the nurse +knew by intuition that she spoke of the bride. + +"I've known her ever since she was a baby. My mother was nursing at +Norris Court, and I went there for a day and a night, and they let me +hold the baby on my lap, to say I had had it. I was quite a young +woman then; a growing girl, as one may say." + +"I don't know anything of her, hardly," said the housekeeper. "I've +not chosen to ask questions of the servants, and I and Honour, as you +are aware, are strangers in the neighbourhood. Her father was a +colonel, was he not?" + +"A colonel! No; it was Mrs. Norris's second husband that was a +colonel--Colonel Darling. Miss Norris's father was Mr. Norris of +Norris Court. Very grand, rich people they were: but as there was no +boy, it nearly all went from the widow when Mr. Norris died. She +married Colonel Darling when the first year was out." + +"She must have been very young," remarked the housekeeper. "She does +not look old now." + +"Very young. I remember the first time I saw her in her widow's cap. I +began wondering how _I_ should look in a widow's cap, for she did not +look much older than I was. She was very pretty. People said what a +pity it was Mr. Norris should have died so soon and left her." + +"What did Mr. Norris die of?" + +"I can't tell you. I have never known. There was some mystery about +it. My mother always said she did not know: and I don't think she did, +she was so curious over it. He was ill about a week or ten days, but +nobody was let go near him, except Mr. Pym and the valet, and a +man-nurse they had. Some of the servants thought it was some +infectious disorder: but nobody knew." + +"And he died?" + +"He died. The little baby, Miss Charlotte, as she was named +afterwards, was born whilst he lay ill. My mother said Mr. Pym took +her in to show her to her father; which was very wrong if it was +fever; and when Mr. Pym came out his face was white, as if he had gone +through some painful scene." + +The housekeeper, who was by no means one to deal in mysteries, stared +at the nurse. She had hushed her voice to that tone we are apt to use +when speaking of things that must not be openly discussed. She sat +gazing at the fire, as if recalling the past, the black strings of her +bonnet hanging down. + +"How do you mean, Mrs. Dade?" + +"Mean?" + +"You speak as if you were scared." + +"Do I? I suppose I caught the tone from mother: she used to speak so +when she talked of it. It was her way, when there was any sort of +mystery in her places. Whether she came to the bottom of it herself, +or whether she didn't, she always used a tone in speaking of it that +partly scared you and partly sent you rampant to know more." + +"But what mystery could there be in regard to Mr. Norris?" + +"That's just what I am unable to tell you. There _was_ a mystery: +everybody knew that; but I don't believe anybody fathomed it. Whether +it lay in his illness, or in his death, or in neither, mother never +knew. Sometimes she thought it was connected with his wife. They had +been a loving couple until one night, when some dispute occurred +between them, and there ensued an awful quarrel: one of those dreadful +disturbances that terrify a household. Mrs. Norris, a gentle, loving, +merry young girl, as she had seemed until then, dashed her hand +through a cheval glass in her passion, and cut it terribly. It all +took place in their own room. Mr. Pym was fetched; and altogether +there was a fine hullabaloo." + +"Were you there?" + +"I was not there; nor mother either. It was not for some days +afterwards that she was sent for to Mrs. Norris: but the servants told +her of it. Mr. Norris had been ill ever since; and three days later he +was dead. The butler said--and he no doubt had it from the valet, for +they were great friends--that it was that night's quarrel that killed +his master." + +"How could the quarrel kill him?" cried the wondering housekeeper. + +Nurse Dade shook her head. "I don't know. All sorts of things were +said--as things in such cases often are, and perhaps not a word of +truth in any of 'em. At any rate, Mr. Norris died, and nobody knew for +certain how he died or what was the matter with him, or what could +have given rise to the dreadful quarrel that led to it. There were but +two persons who could have told the truth--Mrs. Norris and Mr. Pym." + +"Mr. Pym must have been a young man then," observed the housekeeper, +after a pause. + +"About thirty, I suppose. He must be sixty now." + +"Mr. Pym's not sixty!" + +"He is hard upon it. Nobody would take him for it, though, he is so +active. Mrs. Norris had to leave the Court when she got well, for the +new people to come to it; she went straight to the house she's in now, +which of right belongs to Miss Charlotte--I should say Mrs. St. John." + +"I hope she's amiable?" observed the housekeeper. + +"She is when she likes, I believe. I don't know much of her myself. +She has a temper, they say--but then she has been so much indulged." + +"She is very handsome. But she's not in the least like Mrs. Darling." + +"She is very much like her father. Mrs. Darling's fair, Mr. Norris +was----" + +A clear, sonorous voice, calling "Benja," interrupted the words. +Honour heard it, for it penetrated even above the shouts of the boy +and the creaking of the steed. It was a call she was accustomed to. +Often and often, in passing through the hall, going out or coming in, +had Mr. St. John thus summoned his child. + +"Not the horse," said Honour to the boy, as she picked him up. "Papa's +calling. Benja shall come back to the horse by-and-by." + +Mr. St. John was in the hall, waiting. He took the child from Honour, +kissed him lovingly many times, and then carried him into the +drawing-room. Honour followed. She had not been told to go down, and +there was an irrepressible curiosity in her mind to see Mrs. St. John. + +She was seated alone, near the window, with a work-box before her and +some embroidery in her hand, looking as much at home as though she had +always lived there. Her raven hair was partially turned from her +forehead, showing off the finely-cut but very thin features. Turning +her head quickly at the opening of the door, she saw her husband +enter. + +"I have brought you Benja, Charlotte. He must make acquaintance with +his mamma." + +She rose with a smile, her dark-blue silk dress gleaming brightly from +its ample folds, met them midway in the room, and took Benja. The boy, +rather astonished perhaps at the summary proceeding, stared at her +from his wide-open great grey eyes. + +"You will love mamma, Benja?" she said, kissing him tenderly; and she +placed him on her knee and held up to him her shining gold chain, as +she had done some two or three months before. "Mamma means to love +Benja." + +But Benja was impervious to bribes today, and would have nothing to +say to the gold chain. Suddenly, in the midst of his prolonged stare, +he burst into tears, with a great deal of unnecessary noise. + +"I am strange to him," said Mrs. St. John. "He will know me better in +a day or two. See! what have I here for Benja!" + +She took up a sweet biscuit from a plate that happened to be on the +table. What with the biscuit, and her persuasive words, her kisses, +Benja suffered himself to be coaxed, hushed his sobs, and kissed his +new mamma. + +"Friends from this minute," she said triumphantly, glancing up at her +husband, who had stood by, smiling. "I will try and be a good mother +to him, George." + +"I shall like her better than I thought," decided Honour from the +door, who could find no fault, even in her prejudice, with her new +mistress. "I shall like her much if she will only love the child." + +And thus the future lady of Alnwick had entered on her home. + + + + +CHAPTER V. +On St. Martin's Eve. + + +"At Alnwick Hall, on St. Martin's Eve, the wife of George Carleton St. +John, Esquire, of a son." + +This was the next announcement in the local papers; some ten months, +or a trifle more, having elapsed since the last one. And I hope you +will have patience with these notices, and not find fault with their +frequency: they are not yet over. + +"On St. Martin's Eve!" Was Mr. Carleton St. John a Roman Catholic, +that he should chronicle the birth of his children by the saints' +days? No. And it was not by Mr. St. John's wish that it had been so +worded, but by Mrs. Darling's. + +It was no doubt a somewhat singular coincidence that this second child +should have been born on the same day as Benja, the 10th of November. +Mrs. Darling, who was temporarily sojourning at Alnwick Hall, and was +naturally a little inclined to be superstitious, regarded it as a most +ominous event. What, she thought, if the advent of this child should +be succeeded by the dreadful tragedy that had so fatally characterized +the last? And it would perhaps hardly be believed, but that some of +you may have had opportunities of witnessing these foolish fancies, +that she dreaded the announcement being made in the newspapers in the +same words as the last. + +"I cannot bear it," she said to Mr. St. John, "I could not look at it +without a shudder. Put anything else you like, but don't put 'On the +10th of November!'" + +Mr. St. John laughed outright; he could not help it. "Charlotte is as +well as she can be," he rejoined. + +"I know; but a change might take place at any moment. Pray do not +laugh at me, Mr. St. John. Call it folly; superstition; what you will; +only don't word this announcement as you worded the last." + +"But how am I to word it?" he asked. "If the child was born on the +tenth, I can't put it the ninth or the eleventh. I won't send any +notice at all, if you like; I don't care about it." + +"Not send any notice of Charlotte's child!" she echoed in displeasure. +"That would be a slight indeed." + +"As you please. But you see the little fellow has chosen to come on +the tenth, and we can't send him back again to await a more convenient +day." + +"Put 'On St. Martin's Eve,'" said Mrs. Darling, after a pause of +somewhat blank consideration. + +"St. Martin's Eve!" + +"Yes; why not? It _is_ St. Martin's Eve, you know." + +"Indeed I don't know," returned Mr. St. John, very much amused. "I'm +not sure that I knew we had a St. Martin at all in the calendar." + +"That comes of your having lived so little out of England. The English +pay no attention to the saints' days. I have been abroad a good deal +with my children, and know them all. St. Martin's is a great day in +some parts of France. Please let it be so worded, Mr. St. John." + +He took a pen and wrote it as she desired, laughing much. "I should +like to see Dr. Graves's eyes when he reads this," quoth he, as he put +it into the envelope. + +"A rubbishing old Low Churchman!" slightingly spoke Mrs. Darling. +"He's nobody." + +So the notice was sent off; and in due time returned to the house in +the newspapers. Mrs. Darling carried one upstairs proudly to her +daughter. "See, Charlotte! How well it looks!" + +Mrs. St. John took the paper in her delicate hand and read it in +silence; read it twice. "How came George to put it in like that--'St. +Martin's Eve?'" + +"Because I requested it. You are quite well now, darling, as may be +said: but I would not have the announcement made to the world in the +same words as the last." + +"It never could have been so made, mamma." + +"Yes it could. Were not the two children born on the same day of the +year?" + +"Oh, that," coldly returned Mrs. St. John, as if the fact were not +worth a thought. "The other had an addition which this must lack. It +ran in this way: 'the wife of George Carleton St. John, of a son _and +heir_.'" + +Mrs. Darling made no rejoinder. But she cast a keen, stealthy glance +at Charlotte from time to time, as she busied herself with some trifle +at a distance. + +Things had gone on very smoothly at the Hall during the past few +months. Mrs. St. John had been at least kind to Benja, sufficiently +loving in manner; and Honour liked her new mistress tolerably well. +The girl's feeling towards her may best be described as a negative +one; neither like nor dislike. She did not dislike her as she had +formerly believed she should do; and she did not very much like her. + +Perhaps if there had been a characteristic more prominent than another +in the disposition of Charlotte Morris, it was jealousy. Mrs. Darling +had been obliged to see this--and to see it exercised, too--during the +course of her daughter's past life; and one of her objections to the +master of Alnwick Hall, as a husband for Charlotte, was the fact that +he had been once married and his heir was already born. That Charlotte +would be desperately jealous of the little Benja, should she bear a +son of her own, jealous perhaps to hatred, Mrs. Darling felt sure of: +she devoutly hoped there would be no children; and an uncomfortable +feeling had been upon her from the hour she learnt of the anticipated +arrival. So long as Charlotte was without a son, there could be no +very formidable jealousy of Benja. But there might be afterwards. + +Certainly, there existed a wide difference between the future of the +two-year-old boy, sturdily stamping about the gravel-path underneath, +the great St. Bernard's dog, "Brave," harnessed with tape before him; +and that of the young infant lying in the cradle by the fireside. Many +a mother, far more gentle and self-forgetting than was Charlotte St. +John, might have felt a pang in contemplating the contrast. Benja had +a title in prospective; he would be rich amidst the rich. George (by +that name the infant was already registered) might count his future +income by a few hundreds. The greater portion of the Alnwick estate +(not a very large one) was strictly entailed; and the large fortune +brought to Mr. St. John by his first wife, was now Benja's. Mr. St. +John would probably have wished to do as well by one child as by the +other, but he could not help himself; he could not alter the existing +state of things. The settlement he had been enabled to make on Miss +Norris was very, very small; but he intended to redeem this by putting +by yearly some of his large income for her and her children. Still the +contrast was great, and Mrs. Darling knew that Charlotte was dwelling +upon it with bitterness, when she laid that emphasis just now on the +"son _and heir_." + +That Mrs. St. John would inordinately love this child of hers, there +was no doubt about--far more so than might be well for herself or for +him. Mrs. Darling saw it as she lay there--lay looking with eager, +watchful eyes at the little face in the cradle; and Mrs. Darling +decided within herself--it may have been from experience--that such +love does not bring peace in its wake. "I wish it had been a girl!" +thought Mrs. Darling. + +Charlotte Norris had all her life been subject to taking likes and +dislikes--occasionally violent ones; and she took a strong dislike to +the nurse that was now in attendance upon her, barely suffering her in +the room, and insisting on Prance's seeing to the baby instead, for +Prance was at the Hall with her mistress. The result was, that when, +at the end of a fortnight, Mrs. Darling quitted the Hall, Prance was +transferred to Mrs. St. John's service, and remained as nurse to the +infant. + +Some months went on, and spring came round. Mr. Carleton St. John, who +was in parliament, had to be in London; but his wife remained at +Alnwick with her baby, who seemed delicate. Not to have brought to +herself all the good in the world, would she have stirred without him. +The frail little infant of a few days had become to her the greatest +treasure earth ever gave; her love for him was of that wild, +impassioned, all-absorbing nature, known, it is hoped, but to few, for +it never visits a well-regulated heart. + +And in proportion to her love for her own child, grew her jealousy of +Benja--nay, not jealousy only, but dislike. Mrs. Darling had foreseen +correctly: the jealousy and the dislike had come--the hatred would +only too surely follow. Charlotte strove against this feeling. She +knew how wrong it was, how disloyal to her husband, how cruel to +Benja; and she fought against it well. She would take Benja on her +knee and fondle him; and the child grew to love her, to run into her +at all moments when he could triumphantly escape from Honour, and she +would take him and pretend to hide him, and tell Honour to go into the +woods and see if the little wild boy had flown thither. It is true +that once or twice, upon some very slight provocation, she had fallen +into a storm of passion that literally rendered Honour motionless with +alarm, seizing the child somewhat after the manner of a tiger, and +beating him furiously. Honour and Benja were alike frightened; even +Prance looked on aghast. + +Matters were not improved by the conduct of the two nurses. If dislike +and dissatisfaction had reigned between them when Prance was only an +occasional visitor at the house, how much more did it reign now! They +did not break frequently into a quarrel, but a perpetual system of +what the other servants called "nagging" was kept up between them. +Fierce and fiery was the disposition with which each regarded +the other; a war of resentment, of antipathy--call it what you +will--smouldering ever in their hearts. + +It did not want fuel. Honour naturally wished Benja to be regarded as +first and foremost in right of his seniority and position as the heir. +Prance held up the infant as the chief; and it need not be said that +she was tacitly, if not openly, supported by Mrs. St. John. It was +doubly unfortunate. The squabbles of the nurses need not have done +harm, but their rivalry in regard to the children enhanced the feeling +in their mistress. To do Mrs. Darling justice, she absolutely +discouraged any difference being made, even in thought, between the +children, if such came under her notice in her temporary visits at the +Hall; and once, when she heard a sneer given by Prance to Honour and +Benja, she had called the woman to her privately, and taken her +sharply to task. + +Well, the time went on to Easter. On the Thursday in Passion-week Mr. +St. John was expected home; and his wife, who loved him much, +anticipated his return in a sort of impassioned eagerness, not the +less strong because it was controlled under her usual cold and calm +demeanour. The pony-carriage went to the station in the afternoon to +meet the train; and Alnwick's mistress took her place at an open +window that overlooked the approach, long and long before the carriage +could return. + +It was a warm, brilliant day; one of those lovely days that sometimes +come in spring, presenting so great a contrast with the past winter, +and raising many a heart to Heaven. As she sat there, Benja darted in. +The door was not firmly closed, and the child pushed it open +triumphantly and flew to Mrs. St. John, black as any little tinker: +hands, face, dress, a sight to be seen. She wore a charming gown of +apple-green figured silk, and a coquettish little lace head-dress, +fastened with large gold pins. + +"Benja, what have you been doing to yourself?" + +Benja laid his little black hands on her gown, and told her a tale not +very easy to be understood--his grey eyes laughing, his pretty teeth +glistening. Brave had run somewhere, and Benja had run after him, and +the two--or perhaps only Benja--had fallen down by the cocks and hens, +where it was dirty. And they had _stayed_ down apparently, and rolled +about together. + +"Then Benja's a naughty boy to get himself into such a state," she +cried, having quickly interposed her handkerchief between the silk and +the dirty hands. "Where's Honour?" + +Benja broke into a merry laugh. He had contrived to double upon Honour +and evade her, while she was looking for him. + +The child kept his place at her knee, and chattered on in his +imperfect language. Mrs. St. John did not give herself further trouble +to understand it; she fell into a reverie, her fingers unconsciously +rambling amidst the child's fair curls. + +"Oh! so you are here, sir!" exclaimed Honour, looking in. "My +goodness! I've been all over the house after you." + +"Me wid mamma," chattered Benja. + +"And a fine pickle you are in, to be with your mamma, naughty child!" + +"You should not let him get into this state, Honour." + +"It's not my fault, ma'am; he ran away from me after the dog." + +"Take him into the nursery," concluded Mrs. St. John, turning her eyes +again to the window and the winding road. + +Honour carried him away, talking lovingly to him--that he was a sad +little boy to make himself so dirty, and dirty little boys never went +to heaven, unless they got clean again. And Mrs. Carleton St. John sat +on, dreamily watching. + +The first thing that aroused her from it was the sound of voices +outside. She looked out and saw Honour and Benja. Master Benja was now +dressed in a handsome green velvet tunic, and looked as if he had just +come out of a bandbox. Honour had her things on for walking. + +"Where are you going?" inquired Mrs. St. John. + +"Me going to see papa," responded Benja, before Honour could speak, +his eyes bright, and his cheeks glowing. + +"I am taking him to meet the carriage, ma'am." + +"But----" Mrs. St. John was beginning, and then suddenly stopped; and +Honour was half scared at the blank look and the momentary flash of +anger that succeeded each other on her face. "Why should you take him +there?" she resumed. "He will see his papa soon enough at home." + +"Why should I not take him, ma'am?" rejoined Honour, quite +respectfully, but in a bold spirit. + +And Mrs. Carleton St. John could not say why; she had no plea for +refusal at hand. Honour waited a minute, but no words came. + +"It's as well to walk that way as any other, ma'am," she said, taking +Benja's hand. "His papa might be disappointed, else. When he used to +return home last year, and did not meet Master Benja in the avenue, +he'd cry out for him before he got well inside the doors." + +"Oh, very well," said Mrs. St. John. "Keep in this upper part, within +view." + +They turned away slowly, Honour secretly rebelling at the mandate; and +the mistress of Alnwick looked after them. She had been lost in a +reverie, anticipating the moment of her husband's entrance, when, +after her first welcome to him was over, she should summon her child +and place it lovingly in his arms. It seemed that another child was to +be first in those arms; and she had not bargained for it. One wild, +unhealthy longing was ever haunting, half-unconsciously, the mind of +Mrs. St. John--that her husband should love _her_ child better than +that other one. + +She ran upstairs to Prance. She bade Prance hasten to attire the baby, +and take him out to meet his papa. The child was asleep. Prance +glanced at it as if she would have said so; but her mistress's tone +was imperative, evidently admitting neither contradiction nor delay. + +"Oh, so _you've_ come!" was Honour's salutation, not very graciously +expressed, when she found herself joined by Prance. "What's the matter +with him?" + +The question applied to the crying baby, fractious at being awakened +out of its sleep. Prance, who rarely condescended to quarrel in words, +went on with her quiet step and supercilious manner, her head in the +air. + +"I've as much right here as you," she said: "and Master George as the +other. Mind your own business, and don't talk to me." + +Presently the carriage came in view, Mr. St. John driving. He pulled +up when he found himself near the children, gave the reins to the +groom, and leapt out. Little Benja danced about his papa in an ecstasy +of joy, and Mr. St. John clasped him in his arms. + +Two minutes at the least elapsed before he remembered Prance, who had +stood perfectly still, she and her charge. He turned to the baby to +caress it, but his voice and face were strange, and of course it set +up a loud cry, the more loud that it had not recovered its temper. Mr. +St. John left it and walked across the grass with Benja, his whole +attention absorbed by his first-born. The boy was sometimes caught up +in his arms for a fresh embrace, sometimes flitting along by his side +on the grass, hand in hand, the steel buttons on the child's green +velvet tunic flashing in the sun. He had taken off his cap, throwing +it to Honour, and his pretty curls blew away from his brow with every +movement, displaying that winning expression of feeling and +intelligence of which his features had given promise in his infancy. + +Mr. St. John waved his hat to his wife at the open window. She had +seen it all; the loving meeting with the one child, the neglect of the +other. Passion, anger, jealousy, waged war within her. She could no +more have controlled them than she could control the wind that was +making free with her husband's hair. All she saw, all she felt, was +that he had betrayed his ardent love for Benja, his indifference to +_her_ child. In that one moment she was as a mad woman. + +What exactly occurred upon his entrance, George St. John could not +afterwards remember; he was too much scared, too terrified, it may be +said, to receive or retain any correct impression. A strange, wild +look on his wife's face, telling, as it seemed to him, of madness; a +wail of reproaches, such as had never been addressed to him from +woman's lips; Benja struck to the ground with a violent blow, and his +cheek bleeding from it, passed before his eyes as in a troubled +vision. It appeared to last but a moment; but a moment: the next, she +had sunk on a sofa; pale, trembling, hysterical. + +George St. John collected his scattered senses, and picked up the +child. He wiped his poor little outraged face with a handkerchief, +laid it on his bosom for an instant to soothe him to composure, and +carried him into the hall to Honour. The girl cried out when she saw +the cheek, and looked up at her master with inquiring eyes. But his +were averted. + +"An accident," he quietly said. "Wash it with a little warm water." + +He returned to the room, closing the door on himself and his wife. He +did not reproach her by so much as a word: he did not speak to her: he +went to the window and stood there in silence, looking out, his back +turned to her, and his forehead pressed against one of the panes. + +She began to utter reproaches now, sobbing violently; fond reproaches, +that all his affection was lavished upon Benja, leaving none for her +child. He replied coldly, without turning round, that his affection +was as lively for one child as for the other; he was not conscious of +any difference, and hoped he never should be: but an infant of five +months old who cried at his approach, could not yet be made the +companion to him that Benja was. + +"Oh, George, forgive me!" she sobbed, coming close to him, and laying +her hand on him caressingly. "I love--I love you; and I could not bear +it. He _is_ our child, you know; yours and mine; and it seemed as if +he was nothing to you beside Benja. Won't you forgive me?" + +He could not resist the pleading words; he could not throw back the +soft hand that was stealing itself into his. "I forgive it; if you +think forgiveness lies with me, Charlotte," he answered, turning round +at last, but speaking sadly and quietly. + +"You have not kissed me," she whispered, the tears chasing each other +down her cheeks. + +He bent to kiss her at once: just in the same cold, quiet manner in +which he had spoken; as if his mind were withdrawn from the present. +She felt it bitterly; she blamed her "quick feelings" aloud; and when +her tears were dried, she ran up to the nursery in a sudden impulse, +seized Benja, and sat down with him upon Honour's rocking-chair. + +There she fondled him to her; she pushed his hair from his brow; she +laid his hot cheek, clear again under the influence of the warm water, +against her own. + +"Benja love mamma still?" she murmured softly in his ear. "Mamma did +not mean to hurt him." + +And the noble little fellow broke into a loving smile in her face, by +way of answer, and kissed her many times with his rosy lips. + +"Be very gentle with his poor cheek, Honour," she said, as she put him +down and left the room. "It is only a little bruised, I see." + +"Then it _was_ an accident, as master said," decided the wondering +Honour. "I declare if I did not think at the time she had done it +herself!" + +Mr. Carleton St. John had not stirred from his place at the window. He +stood there still, looking out, but seeing nothing. The entrance of +his wife into the room did not arouse him. + +"I have been to make my peace with him, George," she said, almost as +inaudibly as she had spoken above. "Dear little Benja!--We are better +friends than ever, and he has been giving me a hundred kisses of +forgiveness. Oh, George, my husband, I am so sorry! Indeed, indeed, I +will strive to subdue my fits of passion. I will not strike him +again." + +But George Carleton St. John stood as one who understands not. He did +not hear: his thoughts were in the past. The injunction--nay, the +prayer--of his dying wife was present to him; the very look on her +sweet face as she spoke it; the faint tones of her loving voice, soon +to be silent for ever. + +"When the months and the years go by, and you think of another wife, +oh, choose one that will be a _mother_ to my child. Be not allured by +beauty, be not tempted by wealth, be not ensnared by specious deceit; +but take one who will be to him the loving mother that I would have +been." + +Bitterly, bitterly, the prayer came back to him. How had he fulfilled +it? He glanced round at the wife he had chosen, and could have groaned +aloud in the anguish of his remorseful heart. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. +THE ALNWICK SUPERSTITION. + + +The time went on at Alnwick Hall just as it goes on everywhere, and +the two boys grew with it. It was autumn weather. Benja was a sturdy +gentleman of nearly four, strong and independent; George, a delicate +little fellow of nearly two, with fair curls and a bright rose-tint in +his cheeks. + +Mr. Carleton St. John spent more time in London than was absolutely +demanded by his parliamentary duties, frequently remaining there when +the House was not sitting; and during his sojournings at the Hall, it +seemed that he never wanted an excuse for being away from home. +Shooting, fishing, coursing, hunting, riding about the land with his +steward, superintending improvements; presiding on the small +magisterial bench of Alnwick; going over to the county-town for +more important meetings; staying a day or two with bachelor +neighbours--with one plea or another, the master of Alnwick Hall was +nearly always out. What his wife thought of these frequent absences +cannot be told. A dark cloud often sat upon her brow, but things went +on smoothly between them, so far as the servants knew. It was +whispered that George St. John had not found in Charlotte Norris the +angel he had anticipated: how many men _have_ secured angels in +marrying for beauty? + +It was autumn weather, I say--September; and Mr. St. John was at home. +He had thought of taking a walking-tour in Belgium during the month of +October; but an illness that attacked Mrs. St. John caused him to be +summoned to Alnwick. + +A serious if not dangerous illness, and brought on by some unseemly +and violent fit of temper. Mr. St. John was growing accustomed to +hearing of these violent fits of temper now. Four or five he had heard +of during their married life, but the one described in the last +chapter was all he had himself witnessed. Some temporary hurt to her +child, through the carelessness of a servant, had this time caused it; +and the immediate result to herself was disastrous. Mr. St. John found +Mrs. Darling at the Hall, and Mr. Pym was in frequent attendance; but +she was already beginning to improve. + +Mr. St. John sat on a bench on the grassy slope before the windows, +idly revelling in the calm beauty of the September day. The trees were +glowing with the warm tints of autumn; and the blue sky, flecked here +and there with delicate white clouds, seemed to rise to a wondrous and +beautiful height. The two children, attended by their nurses, were +gambolling in the park with the favourite dog, Brave: their shouts and +Brave's deep bark reaching the ears of Mr. St. John. + +He was plunged in thought, as he sat--rather lazy thought. The +children before him, the sick wife upstairs, and the not very +comfortable state of affairs altogether, furnishing its chief themes. +It had carried him back to his second marriage. Caught by the beauty +of Charlotte Norris, he had rushed into the union headlong, giving +himself no time for proper deliberation; no time, in fact, to become +well acquainted with her. "Marry in haste, and repent at leisure," he +murmured to himself; and just then he became aware of the proximity of +Mrs. Darling. She was coming across the park, having walked to her own +house that morning, and back again. She was a great walker, enjoying +it thoroughly: and she came up with a merry smile on her bright and +still pretty face, as she nodded to her son-in-law. + +"How idle you look, Mr. Carleton!" she exclaimed, as he made room for +her beside him. She generally called him by that name. + +"I have felt idle lately, I think. Did you find all well at home?" + +"Quite well. Mary Anne has the mumps; but she is subject to them. I +told her to lie in bed and rub hartshorn on her face. Is Charlotte +up?" + +"I don't know. I have been sitting here these two hours." + +"Mr. Pym said she might get up today for a short time, provided she +lay on the sofa. How those little ones are enjoying themselves." + +She pointed to the park. Mr. St. John was also looking at the +children, to all appearance. His right elbow rested on the arm of the +bench; his hand supported his chin, and his eyes gazed out straight +before him. In reality he neither saw nor heard; he was buried just +then in the inward life of thought. + +"What causes these illnesses of Charlotte?" he suddenly asked, without +altering his position. "This is the second time." + +If ever there was a startled look on a woman's face, it was on Mrs. +Darling's then. "She is delicate, I think," was the answer given, +after a pause. + +"I think not; not naturally so," dissented Mr. St. John, with +emphasis. "I hear of fits of temper, Mrs. Darling, so violent as to +suggest the idea of madness for the time being," he resumed. "That was +the source of this illness, I understand. The result was only a +natural consequence." + +"Who told you that?" eagerly asked Mrs. Darling. "Mr. Pym?" + +"No; Mr. Pym has never spoken a word to me on the subject in his life. +I mentioned it to him on the occasion of the other illness, ten months +ago; but he would not understand me--turned it off in an unmistakably +decisive manner." + +Mrs. Darling bit her lips. That she was in some great and annoying +perplexity, none could doubt who saw her countenance; but she kept it +turned from Mr. Carleton. + +"I have witnessed one of these scenes of violence myself," he resumed. +"I declare that I never was so alarmed in my life. I thought Charlotte +had suddenly become mad." + +Mrs. Darling's lips grew white. But the revelation--that he had +witnessed this--did not come upon her by surprise: for Prance had told +her of it at the time. + +"If I mention this to you now, Mrs. Darling, it is not done in the +light of a complaint. I married your daughter, and I must abide----" +he paused here, as if he would have altered or softened the phrase, +but went on with it immediately--"by the bargain. She is my wife; the +mistress of my house; and I have no wish that it should be otherwise: +but my object in speaking to you is, to inquire whether you can +suggest any means by which these violent attacks of temper can be +prevented." + +Still there was no answer. Mrs. Darling looked cold, white, +frightened; and she turned her head further away than before. + +"You have had a life's experience with her; you must know a great deal +more of this failing than I," resumed Mr. St. John. "Has she been +subject to it all her life?" + +"Yes," said Mrs. Darling, speaking at last. "But not often. I speak +the truth in all sincerity, when I say that until she married I cannot +remember that she had been so put out more than three or four times. +It is an unhappy failing; I acknowledge it to be so; but it is over in +a minute, Mr. Carleton." + +"But think of what it is for the minute! She might--she might kill +some one in one of them. I am sure she had no control whatever over +herself the day I saw her." + +Mrs. Darling looked distressed, and spoke in pleading tones of excuse. +"She is always so sorry for it afterwards, Mr. Carleton; she is +repentant as a child. You are very sweet-tempered yourself, and +perhaps cannot make allowance for those who are otherwise," she added, +turning to him with a smile. "If you only knew how many thousands of +violent tempers there are in the world! Charlotte's is only one +amongst the number." + +"That is not the question," he hastily replied. "I have said I am not +complaining of the fact, and I am vexed at having to speak to you at +all; I only wish to know whether they can be in any way prevented." + +"I don't know of any. It is very stupid of Charlotte; very. One might +have thought her last illness would be a warning to her; and now this +one again! She will never have another child to live, if this is to go +on." + +"It is not only the injury she does herself; there's the fear of her +doing injury to others. She might, I say, strike a fatal blow; she is +mad in these----" + +"No, no; not that," interrupted Mrs. Darling. "Pray do not say so, Mr. +St. John. She is not mad." + +"I am sorry to pain you. I mean, of course, that while the paroxysm is +upon her, she is no more capable of self-control than a woman +absolutely mad would be. If there were any means, any line of conduct +we could adopt, likely to act as a preventive, it should be tried. I +thought it possible you might have learnt how to check it in the past +years." + +"I never knew yet that there was any effectual remedy for violent +temper. A clergyman will tell you it may be controlled by prayer; a +surgeon, by the help of drugs; but I suppose neither is certain always +to answer. I had a servant once, a very good and valuable servant too, +who would fly into the most frightful passion once or twice a year, +and break all the crockery." + +Mrs. Darling spoke with a laugh, as if she would make light of the +whole. It jarred on the feelings of Mr. St. John, and he knit his +brow. + +"Then there's nothing at all that you know of to be suggested, Mrs. +Darling?" + +"I really do not. But I think they will wear out of themselves: as +Charlotte grows older, she must grow wiser. I will take an opportunity +of speaking to her. And she is so sweet-tempered in a general way, Mr. +Carleton, though a little haughty, perhaps, that these few lapses may +surely be pardoned." + +Mr. St. John made no answering remark. He rose and stretched himself, +and was moving away. Mrs. Darling detained him with a question. + +"How did you learn that this illness was so brought on? Did Honour +tell you?" + +"No! I was not aware that Honour knew of it." + +"Neither am I aware that she does. I mentioned Honour, because I +should suppose her to be more of a confidential servant to you than +are the rest, and might acquaint you with what takes place here in +your absence." + +Mr. St. John brought his clear truthful eyes to bear steadfastly on +those looking at him. He was open, honourable, unsuspicious as the +day; but he could not help wondering whether the words concealed any +double meaning. + +"I have no confidential servant, Mrs. Darling. If I had, I should not +allow him, or her, to repeat tales to me of the home of which my wife +is mistress. When Honour speaks to me, it is of Benja; and all the +world might hear, patience permitting, for I believe she takes him to +be a cherub without wings. The one to tell me of it was Charlotte." + +"_Charlotte!_" + +The echo fell upon empty air. Mr. St. John had turned off in the +direction of the children. + +"Is it this that has been worrying you in London?" asked Mrs. Darling, +following him. + +"Worrying me in London? Nothing has been worrying me in London." + +"Has it not? You were looking so ill when you got down here: thin, and +worn, and changed. I said nothing, for fear of alarming Charlotte." + +"I have not felt well for some little time. But it is really my health +that is in fault, Mrs. Darling; not worry." + +"You were worn out with the long session: those late hours do fag a +man. This country air will restore you." + +"I hope so," he replied in a dreamy tone, and his eyes had a far-off +dreamy look in them. "It would not be well just yet for yon little +fellow to be the master of Alnwick." + +Mrs. Darling thought nothing of the remark: perhaps George St. John +thought as little. It was an indisputable fact that he was looking +thin, ill, not so strong as he used to look: but many men, wearied +with the late hours, the wear and tear of a London season, look so +every autumn, and grow robust again by spring. + +The fact was, he began to suspect that his health was failing. And +when a man, neither a coddler nor a hypochondriac, suspects this, rely +upon it, it is time he looked into the cause. Mr. St. John was +careless of himself, as men mostly are; a year ago he would have +laughed outright at the idea of going to a doctor. But the feeling of +intense weariness, of almost utter want of strength, which had come +upon him in London, coupled with a rapid wasting away, and all without +any cause, had forced him to wonder what was the matter. He had made +an engagement for a walking-tour, and then doubted whether his +strength would be equal to it. That somewhat aroused him; not to +alarm, more to a curiosity as to what could be wrong; and close upon +that, came the summons to Alnwick. + +For a day or two after his return, he felt refreshed, stronger, better +in all ways. But the momentary renovation faded again, and by the time +he had been a week at Alnwick he felt weaker than he had felt at all. +The day previous to this conversation with Mrs. Darling, he spoke to +Mr. Pym, telling that gentleman that he thought he wanted tonics. + +"Tonics!" repeated Mr. Pym. "What's the matter with you?" + +"Nothing that I know of. There it is. I haven't an ailment in the +world, and yet I feel so weak and get so thin. It seems a sort of +wasting away." + +A recollection, sharp as a needle, and causing a great deal more pain, +darted into Mr. Pym's mind as he looked at him. Other of the St. Johns +of Alnwick had wasted away without apparent cause; wasted to death. + +"We'll soon set you right again," said he, a shade more quickness in +his speech than usual. "You shall have some tonics." + +The tonics came; and Mr. St. John took them. He tried other means; +cold bathing, driving out, living almost in the open air; but he did +not grow stronger. + +"Didn't my father waste away like this?" he suddenly said to Mr. Pym, +one day. + +"Oh, pooh, no!" quite angrily replied the surgeon. "Your father had a +peck of troubles upon him--and I'm sure you can't remember anything +about him, for you were only five years old when he died." + +George St. John laughed. "You need not fear frightening me, Pym. I +think he did waste away; but that's no reason, you know, why I should +do so." + +He said nothing to his wife of this feeling of indisposition, or that +he was consulting Mr. Pym. This was from no particular wish of +suppressing it; more, that he really did not think it sufficiently +important to speak about. But it came to her knowledge incidentally. + +She grew strong again, and was sitting on the slopes one afternoon +with her embroidery, quiet, gentle, smiling, as if not a cloud of +anger had ever distorted her fair features, when she saw Mr. Pym +approach and enter the house. It suddenly occurred to her that she had +so seen him once or twice lately, and had wondered, in a passing way, +what he wanted. Certainly his visits were not to her now. + +"What can it be that he comes for?" she said aloud, pausing in her +work, and gazing at the door through which Mr. Pym had disappeared. + +If the question was not addressed to air, it must have been meant for +Benja, that young gentleman being the only person within sight and +hearing. He was sitting astride on the arm of the bench at Mrs. St. +John's elbow, absorbed in a new picture-book that Honour had bought +him, and teasing Mrs. St. John's patience out with his demands that +she should admire its marvels. + +"Mr. Pym comes for papa," said quick Benja. + +"For papa!" she repeated. "Nonsense, Benja! Papa's not ill. He's +looking very thin, but I am sure he's not ill." + +"Mr. Pym comes for him, and he sends him physic," persisted Benja. +"For I was in the room yesterday, mamma, and heard them talking." + +Mrs. St. John thought this rather singular. Presently she saw Mr. Pym +and her husband come out and go strolling down the avenue together. +The latter soon turned back. + +"Benja, go and tell papa that I want him." + +Mr. St. John caught up Benja when the boy met him, kissed him, fondly +put him down again, and the two came on together; Benja leaping and +holding his papa's hand. Mrs. St. John was watching with compressed +lips. Even still she could not bear to see the love of her husband for +Benja. It was very foolish of her, very wrong, and she knew herself +that it was so: but, strive against it as she would, as she _did_, the +feeling kept its mastery over her. + +"George, what is the matter with you?" she asked, as her husband sat +down beside her, and Benja ran off with his pictures. "Why does Mr. +Pym come?" + +"I think he comes partly because he likes the walk," was the answer, +given with a smile. "I asked him for some tonics during the time he +was attending you, and he constituted me a patient directly. It's the +way with doctors." + +"Don't you feel well?" + +"I don't feel strong. It's nothing, I suppose. You need not look +alarmed, Charlotte." + +Mrs. St. John was looking more surprised than alarmed She wondered her +husband had concealed it, she said, half reproachfully. + +"My dear, there was no concealment in the case. I felt languid, and +spoke to Pym: that was all. It was not worth mentioning." + +"You have no complaint, George?" + +"None whatever, that I know of." + +"And are in no pain?" + +"None." + +"Then it can't be anything serious," she said, reassured. + +"Of course it can't. Unless any one chooses to look at it ominously. I +accuse Pym of doing so, and he retorts by wanting to know if I think +him superstitious. There's an old belief abroad, you must know, +Charlotte, that the St. Johns of Alnwick never live to see their +thirty-third birthday." + +She looked up at him. He was speaking half jestingly, half seriously; +with a smile, but not a gay one, on his lips. + +"But that's not true, George?" + +"As true as most of such sayings are, invented by old women over their +tea-cups. It need not alarm either of us, Charlotte." + +"But I mean, it is not true that such a belief is abroad?" + +"Oh, _that's_ true enough. Ask Pym. A great many of us have died just +about that age; there's no denying it; and I presume that this has +given rise to the popular fancy." + +"What have they died, of?" + +"Some of one thing, some of another. A large proportion of the whole +have fallen in battle. My great-grandfather died early, leaving seven +little sons. Three of them were taken in childhood; the other four +lived to see thirty, but not one, of them saw thirty-three. I imagine +that the premature death of so large a number of sons must have +chiefly given rise to the superstition. Any way, there's no denying +the fact that the St. Johns of Alnwick have not been long-lived." + +"And the St. Johns of Castle Wafer?" + +"It does not apply to them. Why, Isaac St. John is now all but fifty. +It is owing to this mortality that Alnwick has been so often held by a +minor. The Hall came to me when I was five years old." + +"But George"--and she spoke hesitatingly and wistfully--"you _don't_ +think there's anything in it?" + +"Of course I don't. Should I be telling you this gossip if I did?" + +She thought not, either. She glanced at his fresh complexion, so +bright and clear; at the rose-red on his cheeks, speaking, apparently, +of health; and her mind grew easy, and she laughed with him. + +"George! you are now thirty-three!" + +"No. I shall be thirty-three next May, if I live until then." + +"If you live till then," she echoed. "Does that imply a doubt of it in +your own mind?" + +"Not at all. I dare say I am in no more danger of dying than +others--than Mr. Pym--than old Dr. Graves--than any man you like +to think of. In one sense we are all in danger of it, danger +continually; and, Charlotte, when any circumstance brings this fact to +our minds--for we forget it too much--I think it should serve to make +us very regardful of each other, more cautious to avoid inflicting +pain on those we love." + +His words and tone conveyed a pointed meaning. She raised her eyes +inquiringly. + +"Subdue those fits of temper for my sake, Charlotte," he whispered, +letting his hand fall on hers. "You don't know how they pain me. I +might recall to you their unseemliness, I might urge the sad example +they give the children; but I would rather ask it by your love for me. +A little effort of will; a little patient self-control, and you would +subdue them." + +"I will, George, I will," she answered, with earnest, willing +acquiescence. And there was a look that told of resolution in her +strange and dreamy eyes, as they seemed to gaze before her into a +far-off vision of the future. + +And all in a moment a thought rose up within her--a conviction, if +you will--that this fancy, belief, superstition--call it what you +please--of the premature deaths of the masters of Alnwick, must have +been the secret and still unexplained cause of her mother's opposition +to the match. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. +A SHADOW OF THE FUTURE. + + +October came in, and was passing. George St. John sat at his desk, +reading over a letter he had just penned, preparatory to folding it. +It may facilitate matters if we read it also. + + +"My Dear Mr. St. John, + +"'It behoves all sane men to make a will.' Do you recognize the +sentence? It was from your own lips I heard it spoken, years ago, when +I was a little chap in tunics, and somehow it has never left my +memory. Then, you will say, why have you, George St. John, lived to +your present age and never made one? And in truth I can only plead +carelessness as the excuse. I am about to remedy the omission. Not +that there would be much trouble with my affairs were I to die without +leaving a will, as Benja takes nearly all I possess; and there's my +wife's marriage-settlement--you know how poor it is--to claim the +remainder. On that score, therefore, the obligation is not a very +onerous one; and perhaps that fact may have induced the carelessness I +admit. But there is another phase of the question that has latterly +forced itself on my attention--the necessity for providing proper +guardians for my children in the event of my death. + +"Will you, Isaac St. John, good and true man that you are, be this +guardian? I say, 'this guardian;' for though another will be +associated with you for form's sake, I shall wish you to be the acting +one. The other of whom I have thought is General Carleton, my late +wife's uncle; and the General, being a bilious old Indian, will not +like to have any active trouble thrust upon him. I hope, however, the +charge would not entail trouble upon you, any more than upon him; as +my present wife will be constituted the children's personal guardian. +Let me have an answer from you at your convenience, but do not refuse +my request. + +"Give my kind regards to Mrs. St. John. Is Fred with you? What about +Lady Anne? + +"Believe me, + +"Ever your sincere friend and cousin, + +"George Carleton St. John." + + +The letter was folded, sealed, and addressed to Isaac St. John, +Esquire, of Castle Wafer. George St. John laid it aside with others +for the post, and then turned to a mass of papers, which he began to +sort and look into. Indeed, he seemed latterly to have taken quite a +mania for arranging his affairs and putting them in order: and his +steward said privately to a friend, that Mr. St. John was growing as +methodical as he had formerly been careless. + +Whilst he was thus engaged, his wife came in, Georgy in her arms, whom +she was making believe to scold. The two-year-old boy, indulged, +wilful, rather passionate, did just as he liked, and he had now chosen +to pull his mamma's hair down. He was a loving, charming little +fellow; and whatever there was of wilfulness in his conduct, was the +fault of his mother's great indulgence. + +"Look at this dreadful little boy, papa!" she exclaimed, standing +before her husband, her luxuriant hair, dark and shining as a gipsy's, +flowing on to her light muslin dress. "See what he has done to poor +mamma. Don't you think we must sell him to the old cobbler at +Alnwick?" + +Mr. St. John looked up from his crowded desk, speaking half crossly. +The interruption annoyed him. + +"How can you let him pull you about so, Charlotte? George, you want a +whipping." + +She sat down, clasping the boy to her heart in an access of love. +"Whipping for Georgy!" she fondly murmured in the child's ear. "No, +no: Georgy pull mamma's hair down if he likes." But Honour could have +told a tale to prove that she was not always so tolerant. Benja had +once pulled her hair down in play--it was just after she came to the +Hall--and she left the marks of her fingers on his face for it. It is +true she seemed sorry afterwards, and soothed him when he cried: but +she did it. + +Letting George sit on her knee, she did up her hair as well as she +could. George laughed and chattered, and tried to pull it down again; +altogether there was a great noise. Mr. St. John spoke. + +"I wish you'd take him away, Charlotte: I am very busy." + +"Busy! But I came to talk to you, George," she answered. + +"What about?" + +"Something that I want to do--something that I have been thinking of. +Here, Georgy, amuse yourself with these, and be quiet," she said, +taking up a small plate containing a bunch of grapes, which happened +to be on the table, and giving it to the restless, romping child. "Eat +them whilst I talk to papa." + +"Won't another time do, Charlotte?" + +"I shall not keep you a minute. Next week November will come in. And +the 10th will be--do you remember what the 10th will be?" + +"Benja's birthday," said Mr. St. John, speaking without thought, his +attention wholly given to the papers before him. + +You should have seen the change in her face--it wore an evil look just +then. + +"And George's also!" + +The tone jarred on Mr. St. John's ear, and he raised his eyes quickly. + +"George's also, of course. What of it, Charlotte?" + +The angry emotion had raised a storm within her, and her breath was +laboured. But she strove for self-control, and pressed her hand to her +heart to still it. + +"You can think of Benja, you cannot think of Georgy! It is ever so." + +"Nay, you are mistaken," said Mr. St. John, warmly. "I think as much +of one as I do of the other: _I love_ one as much as I do the other. +If I answered you shortly, it is because I am busy." + +Mrs. St. John was silent for a few moments, apparently playing with +the child's pretty curls. When she spoke, all temper appeared to have +been subdued, and she was cordial again. + +"I want to keep their birthday, George." + +"With all my heart." + +"But to keep it grandly, I mean: something that will be remembered. We +will have an outdoor _fête_----" + +"An outdoor _fête!_" was the surprised and involuntary interruption. + +"Yes; why not? Similar to the one you gave three years ago. Ah, +George! don't you remember it, and what you asked me then? We have +never had one since." + +"But that was in September; this will be November--too late for that +sort of thing." + +"Not too late if this fine weather lasts. It-is lovely yet." + +"The chances are that it will not last." + +"It may. At any rate, George, if it does not, we must entertain the +crowd indoors instead of out. But I have set my heart on keeping this +day." + +"Very well: I have not the least objection." + +"And now, George, shall we invite----" + +"If you will kindly leave me alone for half-an-hour, Charlotte, I +shall have done what I am about, and will talk it over with you as +much as you please," he interrupted. "I expect the steward in every +minute, and am not ready for him." + +"We'll go then, Georgy, and leave papa alone. Make haste." + +The "make haste" applied to eating the grapes, which Master Georgy was +already accomplishing with tolerable speed. Mrs. St. John, her arm +round him, held the plate on his little knees; the other hand was +still wandering amidst his hair. A charming picture! The child's +generally bright complexion looked very bright today; the fair skin +white as snow, the cheeks a lovely rose colour. It might have been +taken for paint; and the thought seemed to strike Mrs. St. John. + +"If he could only sell that," she said to her husband, as she pointed +to the bloom; "how many women there are who would give a fortune for +it!" + +"I would rather see him like Benja, though," was the prompt and +prosaic answer. "That rose-red has been found a fatal sign before now +in the St. Johns of Alnwick." + +"You have it yourself," said Mrs. St. John. + +"Something like it, I believe." + +"Then, how can you say it is fatal? You--you--don't mean anything, +surely, George?" + +George St. John laughed out merrily; a reassuring laugh. + +"Not as to him, at least, Charlotte, He is a healthy little fellow--as +I hope and believe." + +Georgy made an end of the grapes, and, by way of _finale_, tossed the +plate up. Mrs. St. John caught it, so there was no damage done. +Putting him down, he ran up to his papa, eager to see whether there +was anything else on the table, either to eat or to play with. His +mamma took his hand, and was rewarded with a cry and a stamp. + +"You have been writing to Isaac St. John?" she exclaimed, her eyes +falling on the letter that lay there. "Do you correspond with him?" + +"Not often." + +"Why have you been writing to him now?" + +"Only to ask him a question." + +"Oh!" she concluded, taking Georgy up by force, who resisted with all +his might. "I thought you might have been writing to invite him here, +and he would be such a trouble." + +"He wouldn't come, if I did." + +"Is he so very unsightly, George?" + +"No: not unsightly at all." + +"And the other one--Frederick? Is he so very beautiful?" + +George St. John burst into another laugh. + +"Beautiful! What a term to apply to a man! But I suppose he is what +you women would call so. He _is_ good-looking: better-looking, I +think, than any one I ever saw. There, that's enough, Charlotte. Put +off anything else you have to ask me until by-and-by." + +This _fête_, as projected by Alnwick's mistress, was carried out. It +need not have been mentioned at all, but for a misfortune that befel +Benja while it was being held. The weather, though growing gradually +colder, still retained its fineness; and when the day rose, the 10th +of November, it proved to be bright and pleasant. + +Crowds flocked to Alnwick. As it had been on the 10th of November, +during Mr. St. John's widowhood, the _fête_ or _fêtes_, so it was +now--a gathering to be remembered in the county. The invitations had +gone out far and wide; visitors were staying in the house, as many as +it would hold; day-guests came from all parts, near and distant. It +was one of those marked days that never fade from the memory. + +But the guests, as it drew towards the close of the afternoon, might +have searched for their host in vain, had they happened to want him. +Mr. St. John was then in his own sitting-room (the one where you last +saw him), leaning back in an easy-chair, and looking tired to death. A +little thing fatigued him now: for there could be no mistake that the +weakness he complained of was growing upon him. He lay back in the +chair in that perfectly still attitude indicative of great weariness; +listlessly conscious of the noise outside, the music, the laughter, +the gay and joyous sounds; and amidst them might be caught distinctly +the shouts and cries of the two boys, Benja and George, who were +busiest of the busy that festal day. + +Presently George St. John stretched out his hand, and took a letter +from his desk--the answer from Isaac St. John. It had arrived only +that morning, and Mr. St. John, engaged with his guests at breakfast, +had only glanced at its contents. He opened it now again. + + +"_Castle Wafer, November 9th_. + +"My Dear George, + +"You will think I have taken a great deal of time in replying to you, +but I wished to give the question mature consideration, and could only +snatch brief moments between my sufferings, which are just now very +great. + +"I accept the charge. Partly because you were always a favourite of +mine (as I believe you know), and I don't like to refuse you; partly +because I assume that I shall never (speaking in accordance with +probability and human foresight) be called upon to exercise my office: +for I hope and trust you have no reason to expect this. I had fully +made up my mind never to accept another guardianship: not that I had +reason to suppose one was likely to be offered me: the bringing up +Frederick has been a great responsibility for one situated as I am. + +"However, as you say in this case there would be no personal +guardianship required, I dare say I could manage the money matters, +and therefore consent to accept it. Hoping at the same time, and +assuming, that I shall never be called upon to fulfil it. + +"Why don't you come and see me? I am very lonely: Frederick is only +here by fits and starts, once in a summer's day, and gone again; and +Mrs. St. John writes me word that she is prevented coming down this +autumn. You can go about at will, and why not come? So much can +scarcely be said of me. I should like to make the acquaintance of your +wife and of my future charges, who, I hope, never will be my charges. +You ask about Anne: nothing is decided; and Frederick holds back +mysteriously. + +"Ever truly yours, dear George, + +"Isaac St. John." + + +George St. John folded the letter again, and sat with it on his knee. +He was beginning to think--with that unmistakable conviction that +amounts to a prevision--that his cousin _would_ be called upon to +accept the charge. Perhaps at no very distant period. Pym was getting +cross and snappish: a sure and certain sign to one who knew him as +well as George St. John did, that he thought him ill: had he been +improving, the surgeon would have been gay as a lark. But it needed +not Pym or any one else to confirm the fact of his increasing illness: +the signs were within himself. + +He was glad that Mr. St. John had accepted the charge: though he had +felt almost sure that he would do so, for Isaac St. John lived only to +do good to others. A man, as personal joint guardian to his children, +could not be proposed; if they were left, as it was only right they +should be left, under the guardianship of his wife. There had been +moments in this last month or two when, remembering those violent fits +of passion, a doubt of her perfect fitness for the office would +intrude itself upon him; but he felt that he could not ignore her +claims; there was not sufficient pretext for separating the mother +from the child. + +As he sat, revolving these and many thoughts in his mind, he became +conscious that the sounds outside had changed their character. The gay +laughter was turning into a murmur of alarm, the joyous voices to +hushed cries. He held his breath to listen, and in that moment a wild +burst of terror rent the air. With one bound, as it almost seemed, Mr. +St. John was out and amongst them. + +The crowd was gathering round the lake, and his heart flew to his +children. But he caught sight of his wife standing against a tree, +holding George to her side against the folds of her beautiful dress. +That she was agitated with some great emotion, there could be no +doubt: her breath was laboured, her face white as death. + +"What is the matter? What has happened?" cried Mr. St. John, halting +for a moment his fleet footsteps. + +"They say--that--Benja's--drowned," she answered, hesitating between +every word. + +He did not wait to hear the conclusion: he bounded on to the brink of +the lake, throwing off his coat as he ran, ready to plunge in after +his beloved child. But one had been before him: and the first object +Mr. Carleton saw as the crowd parted for him, was the dog Brave, +swimming to shore with Benja. + +"Good dog! Brave! Brave! Come on, then, Brave! Good old dog! Save your +playfellow! Save the heir of Alnwick!" + +All safe. Only on the bank did the good dog loose the clothes from +between his firm teeth, and release Benja. Mr. St. John, more emotion +on his face than had been seen there since the death of that child's +mother, caught the boy with one hand and caressed Brave with the +other. + +His wife had not stirred. She stood there, calm, still, as one +stunned. Was she frightened? those who had leisure to glance at her +asked it. Had her love for her stepson, her dread at losing him, +transformed her into a statue? + +It was not that she was so much frightened; it was not that she loved +Benja. Perhaps she was as yet unconscious of what feelings the moment +had served to arouse; partially unconscious that the thought which had +blanched her face with emotion and wildly stirred the pulses of her +beating heart, was one fraught with danger: if Benja were drowned, her +child would be the heir. + +Voices were calling out that the boy was dead, and Mrs. St. John +lifted her face, a sort of haggard, yearning look upon it. But Mr. +Carleton, the boy pressed in his warm arms, knew that he was only +insensible. He was hastening to the house, Honour, half frightened to +death, at his side, and eager sympathizers following in his wake, when +he bethought him of his wife. + +"Honour, just run and tell your mistress that he'll be all right soon. +She's there; under the elm-trees." + +"Is he dead?" she asked ere Honour could speak, as the girl went up. + +"Oh no, madam, he's not dead, thank Heaven! My master has sent me to +tell you that he is all right." + +Mrs. St. John did not appear to understand. It seemed to Honour--and +the girl was a quick observer--as if her mistress had been so fully +persuaded he was dead that her senses were at first sealed to the +contrary impression, and could not admit it. + +"Not dead?" she repeated, mechanically. + +"He is not dead," said Honour. "He is in no danger of dying now." + +For one single moment--for one moment only--a wild sort of glare, of +angry disappointment, shot from the eyes of Mrs. St. John. Honour drew +back scared, shocked: it had betrayed to the attendant more than she +ought to know. + +But do not set down Charlotte St. John as a wicked woman. She was not +wicked yet. The feeling--whatever its precise nature--had arisen +unbidden: she could not help it; and when she became conscious of it, +she shuddered at it just as much as Honour could have done. But she +did not detect its danger. + +The party dispersed. And Mrs. St. John, in a soft muslin wrapper, was +watching by the cradle of Benja, who was in a sweet sleep now. She had +kissed him and cried over him when they first met; and George St. +John's heart throbbed with pleasure at these tokens of her affection +for the child. Benja had slipped into the lake himself, and for two or +three minutes was not observed; otherwise there had been no danger. + +The danger, however, was over now, and Mr. Pym had gone home, loudly +promising Benja a hatful of physic as a punishment for his +carelessness. Mrs. St. John and the household went to rest at +midnight, leaving Honour sitting up with the boy. There was not the +least necessity for her sitting up, but she would not hear of his not +being watched till morning. The child, in fact, was her idol. + +Presently Mr. St. John came in, and Honour started and rose. She had +been half asleep in her chair, and she had thought her master had gone +to bed. + +He lay with his little face, unusually flushed, on the pillow, his +silken hair rather wild, and one arm outside the clothes; a charming +picture, as most children are when asleep. Mr. St. John bent over the +boy on the other side the crib, apparently listening to his breathing; +but Honour thought her master was praying, for his eyes were closed, +and she saw his lips moving. + +"We should not have liked to lose him, Honour," he observed with a +smile, when he looked up. + +"To lose him! Oh, sir! I would rather have died myself." + +"It might have been a care less for me to leave, though!" he resumed +in an abstracted tone. "His mother gone, and I gone: the world may be +a cold one for Benja." + +"But you are not--you are not fearing for yourself, sir!" exclaimed +Honour, quite forgetting, in the shock the words gave her, that it was +no business of hers to answer the thoughts of her master. + +"I don't know, Honour. I have fancied of late that I may not be here +very long." + +"Heaven grant you may be mistaken, sir!" was the impulsive aspiration +of the girl: "for this child's sake!" + +Her master looked at her, struck by the tone of terror, as much as by +the words. "Why for his sake? Should anything happen to me, Honour, +you must all take the greater care of him. Your mistress; you; all of +you." + +An impulse came over Honour to speak out somewhat of her thoughts; one +of those strange impulses that bear the will with them as a torrent +not to be controlled. + +"Sir, for the love of mercy--and may God forgive me for saying it, and +may you forgive me!--if you fear that you will be taken from us, +_don't_ leave this child in the power of Mrs. St. John!" + +"Honour!" + +"I know; I know, sir; I am forgetting myself; I am saying what I have +no right to say; but the child is dearer to me than any living thing, +and I hope you'll overlook my presumption for his sake. Leave him in +the power of anybody else in the world, but don't leave him to Mrs. +St. John." + +"Mrs. St. John is fond of him." + +"No, sir, she is the contrary. She tries to like him, but she can't. +And if you were gone, there'd no longer be a motive--as I believe--for +her seeming to do so. I think--I think"--and Honour lowered her voice +beseechingly--"that she might become cruel to him in time." + +Bold words. George St. John did not check them, as perhaps he ought to +have done; rather, he seemed to take them to him and ponder over their +meaning. + +"To any one else in the world, sir!" she resumed, the tears forcing +themselves down her cheeks in her earnestness. "To any of your own +family--to Mrs. Darling--to whom you will; but do not, do not leave +him in the power of his stepmother!" + +What instinct caused Honour Tritton thus to speak? And what made Mr. +St. John quit the room without a word of reproof, as if he silently +bowed to it? + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. +WASTING AWAY. + + +But though Honour's words certainly aroused Mr. St. John to a sense of +precaution, they did not cause him to act upon it. A doubt lay almost +in his mind as to whether his wife did, or could, like Benja: it was +based upon her unmistakably jealous disposition, and on the blow she +had once given Benja when she was as a mad woman: but with her daily +conduct before him, her love displayed as much for Benja as for her +own child, he could only believe that the boy was safe in her care. +Certainly the words of Honour recalled those unpleasant doubts +forcibly before him; but he suffered the impression to wear away +again. We all know how time, even if you count it only by days or +hours, softens the aspect of things; and before November was out, the +master of Alnwick had made his will, leaving both the children under +the personal guardianship of his wife. + +And the winter went on, and George St. John grew weaker and weaker. +Not very perceptibly so to the eyes about him; the decline was too +gentle for that. In February, instead of going up to London when +Parliament met, he resigned his seat, and then people grew sensible of +the change in him, and wondered what was wrong with Mr. Carleton St. +John. Mr. Pym came up constantly, and was more and more testy at every +visit. He sent drugs; he brought other doctors with him; he met a +great physician from the metropolis; but the more he did, the worse +seemed to be the effect upon his patient. + +"You'd better give me up for a bad job, Pym, and leave off worrying +yourself," Mr. St. John said to him one day as they were strolling +down the park together--for Mr. St. John liked to go out with the +doctor when he had paid his visits. "I do you no credit." + +"It's because you _won't_ do it," gruffly retorted the surgeon. "I +order you to a warm climate, and you won't go." + +"No; I won't. I am best here. Send me away to those hot places, and I +should only die the sooner. Pym, dear old fellow"--and Mr. St. John +put his hand into the surgeon's--"you are feeling this for me more +than I feel it for myself. I have settled my business affairs; I have +settled--I humbly hope--other affairs of greater moment; and I can +wait my summons tranquilly." + +"Have you made your will?" asked Mr. Pym, after a pause, which seemed +to be chiefly occupied in clearing his throat. + +"No end of weeks ago. The chief thing I had to settle was the +guardianship of the children. Of Benja, I may say. George would have +naturally fallen to his mother without a will." + +"And you have left him--Benja----?" + +"To my wife, just as I have the other. Mr. St. John, of Castle Wafer, +and General Carleton, are the trustees. I thought of my wife's +half-brother, Captain Darling, as one of them; but his regiment will +probably be ordered abroad, and he may be away for years." + +They walked on a few steps further in silence, to the spot that Mr. +St. John called his turning-place, for it was there he generally +quitted the surgeon. As they were shaking hands, Mr. Pym retained his +patient's fingers in his, and spoke. + +"Will you forgive an old man for his advice? He is double your age, +and has had twenty times the experience. For acquiring good practical +lessons of life, commend me to a doctor." + +"I'll take it," said Mr. St. John, "in anything except quitting +Alnwick." + +"Don't leave Benja under your wife's charge." + +"Why not?" came the question, after a pause of surprise. + +"I have my reasons. For one thing, she is not very strong, and the +charge of the two children, with you gone, might be found a heavy +task." + +"I think that's nonsense, Pym," quietly replied Mr. St. John. "She has +plenty of servants, and at a proper age Benja will go to school. +George also. You must have some other reason." + +"True. But I am not sure that you would like me to mention it." + +"Mention what you will, Pym. Say anything." + +"Has it occurred to you that it is within the range of possibility +your wife may marry again?" + +"My widow may. Yes." + +"Then, should this prove the case, and she formed new ties about her, +Benja might find himself neglected. George is her own child, secure in +her love, whatever betide; Benja is different. Have you provided in +any way for the contingency I have mentioned?" + +"No. I have left my wife personal and resident guardian at Alnwick +until Benja shall be twenty-one. At that period she must leave it, or +only remain there as Benja's guest. It is right, I believe, that it +should be so. And I have a precedent in my father's will." + +"But his widow was your own mother." + +Mr. St. John made no immediate reply. The distinction had probably not +occurred to him. + +"Take my advice, George St. John," said the surgeon impressively; "do +not leave Benja under the charge of your wife. I would rather not +discuss with you the why and the wherefore; but rely upon it some +other plan will be better both for the boy and for Mrs. St. John." + +He went away as he spoke, and George St. John turned slowly back to +the Hall. The conversation recalled to his mind with vivid force the +almost-forgotten words of Honour; and an uncomfortable feeling of +indecision crept into it. + +Still he did not see any feasible way of altering the arrangements he +had made. When he died, Alnwick Hall would be Benja's, and must be the +boy's chief home during his minority; he could not turn his wife out +of it, and he could not place any one else in it as Benja's personal +guardian. He had no means of providing a suitable residence for his +widow if she left the Hall: in fact, it was only as the heir's +guardian that he could at all adequately provide for her. Neither, it +must be confessed, did Mr. St. John himself see any great necessity +for separating them: but he was a man amenable to counsel, open to +advice, and the opinion of two friends (surely both may be called so!) +so attached to him as Mr. Pym and Honour, bore weight with him. It had +not been George St. John had he ignored it. + +"May God help me to do right!" he murmured, as he entered the house. + +He dwelt much upon it during the remainder of the day; he lay awake +part of the night: and only when he came to a decision did he get to +sleep. Early the next morning he rang for his servant; and at eight +o'clock the pony-carriage conveyed him to the railway station at +Alnwick to take the train. As the market people looked at him, passing +them betimes in the fresh February morning, at the bright colour in +his face, the wavy brown hair stirred by the gentle breeze, they said +to themselves, how well Mr. Carleton St. John was looking, though +thin. + +He was going over to Castle Wafer. An hour and a-quarter's journey +brought him to a certain town; there he waited twenty minutes, and +took another train. Rather more than another hour and a-quarter of +very quick travelling, for this last was an express, conveyed him to +Lexington, and thence he took a fly to Castle Wafer. + +It was one of the most charming houses ever seen, nestling in lovely +grounds, amidst rising trees of many species. A modern house, built by +its present owner, Isaac St. John, who possessed a rare taste for the +beautiful, and had made it exquisite. That house was his hobby in +life; his care was his half-brother, Frederick St. John. The estate of +Castle Wafer was the entailed inheritance of these St. Johns; and +Frederick was heir presumptive: the positive heir, said the world; for +it was beyond the range of probability that its present owner would +ever marry. + +They were second-cousins to the St. Johns of Alnwick, and were next in +succession. Of great wealth themselves, far more so than was George +St. John, and of more note in the world, they were yet below him in +succession to what might be called the original family property. That +was not Alnwick. An old baronet of eighty-one, Sir Thomas St. John, +held it; he was childless, and therefore it would come at his death to +George St. John, and to George St. John's sons after him. Had he, +George St. John, also been childless, the whole, including the title, +including Alnwick, would lapse to Isaac St. John. + +George St. John had nearly a two-mile drive. He noted the familiar +points on the road and in the fine landscape, as they stood out in the +clear but not very bright February day. The sprinkling of cottages +near Castle Wafer; the solitary public-house, called the Barley Mow, +with its swinging sign-board; and the old-fashioned red-brick house, +Lexington Rectory, which the wiseacres of other days had built nearly +two miles from its church and Lexington proper. It stood close to the +grounds of Castle Wafer; was the only house of any social standing +very near to it; and as George St. John glanced at its windows as he +passed, he remembered that its present possessor had received his +title to orders from a church in the neighbourhood of Alnwick, of +which his father was patron; but he had been a very, very little boy +at the time. The house looked empty now; its windows were nearly all +closed: and he supposed its incumbent, Dr. Beauclerc, Rector of +Lexington and Dean of Westerbury, was away at his deanery. + +"Mr. St. John is at home?" he asked, as the woman came out to throw +back the lodge gates. + +"Oh yes, sir." And indeed George St. John had little need to ask, for +Mr. St. John rarely, very rarely, was away from Castle Wafer. + +A few minutes' turning and winding, and then the front of the house +burst upon George St. John's view, and he was close upon it. The sun +broke out at the moment, and he thought he had never before seen any +place so beautiful; he always did think so, whenever he thus came upon +Castle Wafer. The glistening white front, long rather than high, with +its elaboration of ornament; the green terraces, covered with their +parterres of flowers, already in bloom, and stretching beyond to the +less open grounds; the low French windows, open to the breeze--never +did any dwelling impart so cheerful, so attractive a look as did +Castle Wafer. To a stranger, having no idea of the sort of house he +was going to see, perhaps surprise would be the first feeling; for the +place was as unlike a castle as any place could be. Isaac St. John +said laughingly sometimes that he ought to change its appellation. +There might have been a castle on the lands in the old feudal ages, +but no trace remained of it: and the house, which had been pulled down +to give place to this fairy edifice, had looked like a companion to +the Rectory--red, gaunt, and gloomy. + +As the hall-door was thrown open, and the bright colours fell on its +mosaic pavement from the stained-glass windows, gladdening the eye of +George St. John, a tall, portly man, rather solemn and very +respectable, not to say gentlemanly, was crossing it, and turned his +head to see who the visitor might be. Mr. St. John at once stepped +past the footman and greeted him. It was Mr. Brumm, Castle Wafer's +chief and most respected servant; the many years' personal attendant, +and in some respects a confidential one, of its master. George St. +John held out his hand, as affable men will do by these valued +servants, after years of absence. + +"How are you, Brumm? I see I have taken you by surprise." + +"You have indeed, sir," said Mr. Brumm, in the slow manner natural to +him. "Not more so, I am sure, sir, than you will take my master. It +was only this morning that he was mentioning your name." + +"How is he now?" + +"Better, sir, than he has been. But he has suffered much of late." + +Mr. Brumm was leading the way into an inner hall, one light and +beautiful as the first, with the same soft colours thrown from its +several windows. Opening a door here, he looked in and spoke. + +"A visitor, sir--Mr. Carleton St. John." + +By a bright fire in this light and charming room--and if you object to +the reiteration of the term, I can only plead in excuse that +everything was light and charming at Castle Wafer--with its few fine +paintings, its glittering mirrors, its luxuriant chairs and sofas, its +scattered books, and its fine harmonium, sat a deformed gentleman. Not +any hideous phase of deformity that repels the eye, but simply with a +hump upon his back: a small hump, the result of an accident in +infancy. He had a pale, wan face, with the sharp chin usually +accompanying these cases; a face that insensibly attracted you by its +look of suffering, and the thoughtful earnestness of its bright, +clear, well-opened hazel eyes. Of nearly middle height, that hump was +the only unsightly point about him; but he was a man of suffering; and +he lived chiefly alone, he and his pain. His hair was dark, silken, +rather scanty; but not a thread of silver could be seen in it, though +he was close on his fiftieth year. + +Laying down the book he was reading, Isaac St. John rose at the +mention of the name; and stepped forward in the quiet, undemonstrative +way characteristic of him, a glad smile lighting up his face. + +"George! how pleased I am to see you! So you have thought of me at +last?" + +"I was half ashamed to come, Mr. St. John, remembering that it is five +years since I came before. But I have met Mrs. St. John repeatedly in +London, and sometimes Frederick; so that I have, as it were, seen you +at second-hand. I have not been well, too." + +Suitable, perhaps, to the difference in their ages, it might be +observed that while the elder man called the younger "George," he +himself was addressed as "Mr. St. John." But Mr. St. John had been +almost grown up when George was a baby, and could remember having +nursed him. + +"You do not look well, George," he said, scanning the almost +transparent face before him. "And--are you taller? You look so." + +"That's because I'm thinner. See!"--opening his coat--"I'm nothing but +a skeleton." + +"What is wrong?" + +"I can't tell you. I grow thinner and thinner and weaker and weaker, +and that's about all I know. I may pick up as spring comes on, and get +right again; but--it may be the other way." + +Isaac St. John did not answer. An unpleasant reminiscence of how this +young man's father had wasted away eight-and-twenty years ago kept him +silent. + +"What will you take, George? Have you come to stay with me?" + +"I have come to stay with you two hours: I must be home again by +nightfall if I can. And I won't take anything until my business with +you is over; for I confess it is my own selfish affairs that have +brought me here. Let me speak to you first." + +"As you will. I am ready." + +"Ever ready, ever willing to help us all!" returned George St. John, +warm gratitude in his tone. "It is about the guardianship that I wish +to speak. I thank you for accepting it." + +Isaac smiled. "I did not see that I could do otherwise for you." + +"Say for my children. Well, listen to me. I have left my wife personal +guardian to my children. She will reside at the Hall until Benja is of +age, and they with her, subject of course to their school and college +intervals. This is absolute with regard to the younger, but in regard +to the elder I wish it to be dependent upon your discretion." + +"Upon my discretion?" + +George St. John had his hands upon his knees, leaning forward in his +great earnestness; he did not appear to notice the interruption. + +"I wish you (when I shall be gone, and the boys have only their +mother) to take means of ascertaining from time to time that Benja is +_happy_ under his stepmother's care, and that she is doing her part +by him in kindness. Should you find occasion to doubt this, or to +think from any other cause that he would be better elsewhere, remove +him from her, and place him with any one you may consider suitable. I +dare not say take him yourself: children are noisy, and your health is +imperfect; but place him where you can be sure that he will be well +done by. Will you undertake this, Mr. St. John?" + +"Why do you ask this?" was the reply of Isaac St. John. "Is it a new +thought--a sudden thought?" + +"It is a new thought, imparted to me chiefly through a conversation I +had yesterday with Pym, our surgeon and old friend. He does not think +it well that Benja should be left under the absolute control of Mrs. +St. John, as he is not her own child. He said, for one thing, that she +might marry again, and Benja would be as it were isolated amidst new +ties; but when I pressed him for other reasons--for I am sure he had +others--he would not give them; preferred not to discuss it, he said. +He was--I could see that--for having the boy entirely away from her, +but that is not to be thought of. I reflected a good deal on what he +said, and have come to the conclusion that it may be as well there +should be some clause inserted in the will that shall take absolute +power from her, and hence I come to you." + +"Your wife is kind to the boy?" asked Mr. St. John. "Pardon me the +question, George." + +"Very much so. When George was born, she showed some jealousy of the +oldest boy, but all that has passed away. Benja was nearly drowned +last November, and she was quite hysterical afterwards, crying and +sobbing over him like a child. The nurse, a most faithful woman, +thinks, I know, with Pym, but that's nothing." + +"You wish me, in the event of the children being left fatherless, to +ascertain whether the elder is well done by at the Hall, and is happy +there. If not, I am to remove him? This is what you ask, as I +understand it?" + +"Precisely so. Should you, in your judgment, deem that Benja would be +better elsewhere, take him away. I shall endow you with full power." + +"But how am I to ascertain that?" + +"In any way you please. Use any means that may suggest themselves. Go +over and see for yourself, or send some suitable substitute, or +question Honour----" + +"Who is Honour?" + +"Benja's nurse. She took to him when my poor Caroline died. My present +wife does not seem strong; at least she has had one or two serious +illnesses lately; and Pym says the care of the two boys is more than I +ought to put upon her. Perhaps it would be." + +"Why not at once leave Benja under another guardianship?" + +"I should not like to do so. The world would regard it as a slight, a +tacit want of confidence in my wife: and besides, in that case I +should be divided as to whether to leave the Hall as a present +residence to her or to Benja. I--mark me, Mr. St. John--I place full +reliance upon my wife; I believe she will do her duty by Benja, and +make him happy; and in that case there is no harm done. I am only +providing for a contingency." + +"I see. Well, I accept the charge, George, though it might be well +that you should entrust it to a more active man." + +"No, no; you and you only." + +They continued talking together for the brief space George St. John +had allotted for his stay. Little more was said on the one subject, +for George quitted it somewhat abruptly, and they had other topics in +common; family matters, news on either side, as is the case when +relatives meet after a prolonged separation. At the appointed time he +was driven back to Lexington in Mr. St. John's carriage, took the +return train, and reached Alnwick about six in the evening. + +His wife had sent the close carriage for him, fearing the night air. +George St. John directed the coachman to drive round by Mr. Drake, the +lawyer's; and when that gentleman came out to him he asked him to step +up to the Hall on the morrow, on a little matter of business relative +to an alteration in his recently-made will. + +But Mr. St. John of Castle Wafer, pondering on these matters after his +relative's departure, remained puzzled, and could by no means arrive +at a satisfactory conclusion as to whether there was danger that Mrs. +Carleton St. John might be cruel to Benja, after the fashion of the +vindictive uncle of the "Babes in the Wood," or whether it was feared +that she would kill him with kindness. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. +CHANGES AT ALNWICK. + + +On a charming summer day in that favourite room whose windows +overlooked the broad lands of Alnwick, sat Mrs. Carleton St. John in +widow's weeds. Opposite to her, in mourning also, her travelling shawl +unpinned and slipping from her slim, falling shoulders, her bonnet +dusty, was Mrs. Darling, not five minutes arrived. + +Changes had come to Alnwick, as these signs betrayed. Its master, so +much loved and respected during life, was no more. In the month of May +the deceitful, as poets have it, the crisis came for George Carleton +St. John, and the Hall passed to another owner--the little boy too +young to be conscious of his full loss, and whose chief idea connected +with it was the black attire with which officious attendants hastened +to invest him. + +Death at the last was sudden, and Mrs. St. John was alone when it +came. Her mother, Mrs. Darling, had gone abroad, and beyond a very +brief note, just telling her of the event, Mrs. Darling received no +direct news from her. She wrote letter after letter, for it was not +convenient to return home immediately; but all the replies--when she +received any--came from Prance. And Prance, who was in a degree in the +confidence of Mrs. Darling, ventured to intimate that her mistress was +"sulking," and much annoyed by the will. + +The last item of intelligence stirred all the curiosity possessed by +Mrs. Darling. It also troubled her. She was aware that George St. John +had little actual property to bequeath to his wife--and George St. +John's own private opinion had been that Mrs. Darling's opposition to +his marriage with her daughter arose from that sole fact--but there +were ways and means of remedying this; and now Mrs. Darling supposed +they had not been taken. As soon as she was able, after June came in, +she made arrangements for returning to England, and hastened down to +Alnwick Hall. + +But for the escutcheon on the outer walls, and the badge of widowhood +worn by her daughter, Mrs. Darling might have thought things were as +they had been--that no change had occurred. The windows were open, the +sun was shining, the park was green and flourishing: even Charlotte +was not changed. And Mrs. Darling scanned her with a critical eye. + +"My dear, you are looking better than I hoped for." + +"I am pretty well, mamma. I wish Prance would come in with Georgy!" +she continued fretfully. "I want you to see him, he is so grown!" + +"Dear little fellow! I was so sorry that I could not come over at the +time, Charlotte, but----" + +"It did not matter," interrupted Mrs. St. John, speaking quickly. +"Indeed I think I was best alone. You know, mamma"--turning her deep +eyes full upon her mother--"I was always given to being independent. +How is Rose?" + +"Oh, dear!" returned Mrs. Darling, with a groan, as if recalled to +some very annoying subject. "Don't talk of Rose." + +A half smile crossed the young widow's lips. "Has she been doing +anything very dreadful?" + +"No: but she is so rebellious." + +"Rebellious!" + +"At being kept at school. Mary Anne and Margaret fully expected she +would break bounds and conceal herself on board the boat. We had +sighted Folkestone before they felt any sort of assurance that she was +not there." + +"Did Mary Anne and Margaret come over with you?" + +"Yes; I left them in London. Frank is expected." + +"I think Frank might come down to see me!" said Mrs. St. John, +haughtily. + +"My dear, I am sure he will. But he cannot always get leave when he +would." + +There was a pause. Charlotte, cool, haughty, reserved, as she had ever +been, even to her mother, turned to the window again, looking out for +her little son. Mrs. Darling was burning to ask various particulars of +things she wanted to know, but did not just now see her opportunity. +She rose from her chair. + +"I think I will go, Charlotte, and take off my travelling things. I am +as dusty as I can be." + +"Do so, mamma. Your old room. Prance will not be long." + +Prance was entering the house even then: she had brought Georgy in the +back way. There was a boisterous meeting; Mrs. St. John coming out to +join in it. Georgy chattered, and shook his fair curls from his pink +cheeks, and was altogether lovely. Mrs. Darling did not wonder at the +faint cry of pain--that intense love, whose expression amounts to +pain--with which his mother caught him to her heart. + +"Where is Benja?" asked Mrs. Darling of Prance. + +Oh, Master St. John would be coming in sometime, Prance supposed. +Honour had begun with her insolence, as usual, so they parted company. +And Mrs. Darling, as if she would ignore the words, made her way +hastily towards the staircase, Prance following in attendance. + +Mrs. Darling scarcely gave the woman time to close the chamber-door +before she began to question her eagerly. Remember that Prance was, so +far as Mrs. Darling was concerned, a confidential servant, and she +imparted all she knew. Mrs. St. John was to remain at the Hall as +Master St. John's guardian, with four thousand a-year. + +"I heard the will read," said Prance. "Old Drake the lawyer came to us +after they returned from the funeral, and said we were wanted in the +large drawing-room. Mrs. St. John was there in her new mourning and +her widow's cap; and she looked very cross and haughty as we filed in. +The gentlemen who had gone to the funeral were there, and Dr. Graves, +and Mr. Pym. I had the little one, and Honour came in with Master St. +John----" + +"Why do you call him Master St. John?--he was always called Master +Benja," interrupted Mrs. Darling. + +"He has been called so since that same time, ma'am," was the woman's +answer. "A gruff old gentleman who was one of the mourners, upright +and stiff as a backboard and yellow as gold--it was General Carleton, +I believe--heard one of us call the boy Master Benja, and he spoke up +very severely, saying he was not Master Benja, but Master St. John, +and must be nothing else to us until he should be Sir Benjamin. The +servants were quite taken to, and have called him Master St. John ever +since." + +"Well, go on." + +"We found we had been called in to hear the will read. I did not +understand it altogether; but I am quite certain that Mrs. St. John is +to reside at the Hall and to be paid four thousand a-year as the +heir's guardian. There was something I was unable to catch, through +Master Georgy's being troublesome at the moment, about the four +thousand being reduced to two if Master St. John went away. And, on +the other hand, it is to be increased by two, whenever he comes into +the title and the other estates. Which will make six thousand a-year." + +"Then what did you mean, Prance, by sending me word that your mistress +was annoyed at the terms of the will? Four thousand a-year now, and +six in prospective! She cannot find fault with that. It is +munificent." + +"You may depend upon it, ma'am, that she is so," was the unhesitating +reply of Prance. "She is very much annoyed at it, and she has shown it +in her manner. It is some clause in the will that vexes her. That +precious Honour----" + +"Stay, Prance," interrupted Mrs. Darling. "How often have I warned you +not to encourage this ill-feeling against Honour!" + +"It's Honour's fault," promptly answered Prance. + +"It is the fault of both of you," returned Mrs. Darling; "of the one +as much as the other. It is a strange thing you cannot be at peace +together! You will arouse jealousy between the two children next!" + +"It never comes to open quarrelling between us," rejoined Prance. "But +she's uncommonly aggravating." + +"Be quiet, Prance! I desire once for all that there may be more +pleasantness between you. It is a scandal that the two upper maids of +the Hall should be ever at variance, and it's a thoroughly bad example +for the children; and it's--you _know_ it's not well for your +mistress. Mrs. St. John requires peace, not----" + +Prance uttered an exclamation: it caused Mrs. Darling, who was looking +into a bandbox at the time, to turn sharply. Mrs. St. John was +standing there, behind the bed-curtains--to the startled lady's +intense dismay. How much had she heard? + +"Charlotte, my dear, I did not know you were there. I was just giving +Prance a lecture upon this ill-feeling that seems always to be going +on between her and Honour. Have you come to stay with me, child, +whilst I unpack?" added Mrs. Darling, seeing that her daughter was +seating herself comfortably in an easy-chair. "Then, Prance, I think +you may go now." + +But while she so spoke, Mrs. Darling was tormenting herself, as much +as one of her easy disposition can do so, as to whether she _had_ +caught a word of her conversation with Prance--that part of it +relating to money. There had been some noise in the room from the +opening of drawers and moving of boxes, which must have prevented +their hearing her come in. "I'll speak of it," thought Mrs. Darling. +"It's better to take the bull by the horns and make the best of it, +when one does get into these dilemmas." + +She stole a glance at her daughter, while busily intent to all +appearance in straightening the trimmings of a bonnet she had just +taken out of a bandbox. Mrs. St. John looked cold and stern. _Had_ she +heard anything? + +"Charlotte, my dear, I am so very anxious about you: as to how things +are left, and all that. I dropped a remark to poor Prance, but she +seems to think it is all right; that you are left well-off and remain +here. These simple servants can't know much, of course. I am glad your +husband made a just and proper will." + +"He made an infamous will," cried the young widow, her cheeks flaming. + +The words completely took Mrs. Darling aback, and she forgot to +enlarge on the opinion she had just expressed of poor, simple Prance's +imperfect knowledge. "An infamous will, Charlotte!" she exclaimed, +"when you have the Hall and four thousand a-year." + +"It _is_ infamous. I am left dependent upon the heir." + +"The heir! Do you mean Benja?" + +"There's no other heir but he. Why did George leave me dependent upon +him?" + +"I don't quite understand you, my dear. In what way are you dependent +upon Benja?" + +"The four thousand a-year is paid to me as his guardian only,--as his +guardian and Georgy's. I only remain at the Hall as Benja's guardian. +It's all on sufferance." + +"But, my dear, your husband had it not in his power to leave you +comfortably off in any other manner. All the settlement he could make +on you at your marriage--I really don't think it will amount to more +than six hundred a-year--he did make. This, of course, is yours in +addition; and it will be your child's after you." + +"Think of the contrast," was the rejoinder; and Mrs. St. John's bosom +heaved ominously, as if the wrong were almost too great to bear. "The +one with his thousands upon thousands, his title, his state, +everything that's high and mighty; the other, with his few poor +hundreds and his obscurity." + +"But, my dear Charlotte, there was no help for this. Benja was born to +it, and Mr. Carleton could no more alter it than you could." + +"It is not the less unjust." + +"Unjust is not the right word. The law of entail may not be an +equitable law, but Englishmen live under it, and must obey it. You +should not blame your husband for this." + +"I do not blame him for it." + +"You blame his will, which is the same thing." + +Mrs. St. John was leaning back, the broad lappets of her cap thrown +from her face; her elbows rested on the arms of the chair, and she +pressed the tips of her fingers nervously together. The slight storm +had passed outwardly, and all her habitual coldness of manner had +returned to her. + +"Why did he add that codicil to it?" + +"Was there a codicil? What was it? But I don't know what the will +itself was, Charlotte." + +"He had left the children under my exclusive guardianship. They were +to reside at the Hall here with me, subject to their absences for +education, and he willed that a sum of four thousand a-year should be +paid to me." + +"Well?" said Mrs. Darling, for she had stopped. + +"That was in the will. But the codicil altered this, and Benja's +residence with me is subject to the pleasure of Mr. Isaac St. John. He +has it in his power to remove Benja from me if he sees fitting; and if +Benja is so removed, two thousand of the four are to be withdrawn, and +my allowance reduced thereby one half. Why did George do this? Why did +he do it secretly, and never say a word to me about it?" + +"I'm sure I don't know," said Mrs. Darling, who was revolving the news +in her mind. "Benja to be removed from you at the pleasure of Isaac +St. John? But is he not a helpless invalid?" + +"Physically he may be next door to it, but he is all powerful as to +Benja. This codicil was dated the day subsequent to a visit George +paid Castle Wafer at the close of winter, a long time after the will +was made. Isaac St. John must have put him up to it that day. I will +pay him out, if I live." + +"Well, I can't tell why he should have done it," cried Mrs. Darling, +who felt altogether puzzled. "_He_ does not want the two thousand +a-year; he is rich and an invalid. Did you question him of his +motives, Charlotte? I should have done so." + +"Question whom?--Isaac St. John? I have never seen him." + +"Did he not come to the funeral?" + +"No; he was too ill, they said. His brother came--handsome Fred. +Mamma, I _hate_ Isaac St. John." + +"Hush, my dear. It is more than likely that he will never interfere +with you. I have always heard him spoken of as one of the most just +and honourable men breathing." + +"I don't like it to have been done. I don't like the world to know +that George could put so great a slight upon me. It is known +everywhere. The servants know it. He desired that they should be +present while the will was read. Did you ever hear of such a thing?" + +"Your husband desired it?" + +"He did; at least, Mr. Drake says so. When they were about to read the +will, and I had come down into the drawing-room before them all, Mr. +Drake said to me, 'I am going to call in the servants, with your +permission; Mr. Carleton St. John desired me to do so.' I objected, +but it was of no use; Mr. Drake appeared not to hear me; and I could +not make a fuss at a moment like that. But now, mamma, don't you see +the drift of all this?" + +"N--o," said Mrs. Darling, gathering no idea of Charlotte's meaning. + +"I do," said Charlotte, the keen look sometimes seen in them gleaming +from her unfathomable eyes. "That will was read out to the servants on +purpose that they might know they have it in their power to carry +tales to Isaac St. John. I hate him! I hate him! But for him, I am +sure my husband would have entrusted me absolutely with Benja. Who is +so fitting to bring him up as I?" + +"And I think you will bring him up, Charlotte. I don't understand all +this that you are telling me; but I feel little doubt Isaac St. John +will be all that is courteous and kind. Whilst you do your part by +Benja, there can be no plea for removing him. You _will_ do it?" + +"I shall do it, certainly;" and Mrs. St. John fully meant what she +said; "I shall make no distinction between the boys. If Benja needs +correcting, I shall correct _him_. If Georgy needs correcting, I shall +correct him. The thing's easy enough, and simple enough; and there was +not the least need for interfering with me. What I dislike most, is +George's having kept it from me." + +"I dare say he did not think to mention it to you," said Mrs. Darling, +soothingly; and it was notable that she was in the habit of smoothing +things to her daughter always, as though she were afraid of her. "And +you are quite right, my dear, not to make any difference between the +children; your husband did not." + +"Not outwardly, or in a general way. In his heart, though, he loved +the one and not the other; and I love the other and not the one. Oh, +Georgy! Georgy! if you were only the heir!" + +"That's an unprofitable thought, Charlotte. Don't indulge it. Benja +was the first-born." + +"How can I help indulging it? Georgy is _my_ first-born, and it seems +as a wrong done him--done to us both." + +"My dear, where's the use of this? You married George Carleton St. +John with your eyes open, in defiance of me. It is too late to repent +now." + +"I don't repent. I would marry him again tomorrow, though he had two +heirs instead of one. But I can't help--I can't help----" + +"What can't you help?" + +"Never mind. The position is unalterable, and it is useless to dwell +upon it. Mamma, I shall never speak of this again. If you want any +other particulars of the will, you can get them from old Drake. Tell +me now all about Rose and her rebellion. I have often thought I should +like her to live here when she leaves school." + +_Why_, Mrs. Darling could not have told; but she felt the greatest +relief when Charlotte thus quitted the subject. It was next to +impossible that any child could have been born with a disposition so +jealous as had Charlotte Norris; and Mrs. Darling had been pleased, +but for curtailing her income, that Benja should be removed from her. +She had no fear that Charlotte would be unkind to him; systematically +unkind she believed Charlotte would not be to any one; but, so long as +the boy was with her, he must and would keep alive the jealousy she +felt on Georgy's account. Two thousand a-year, however, in Mrs. +Darlings estimation, was--two thousand a-year. + +Willingly she turned to the topic named by Charlotte--her youngest, +her troublesome, but most lovable daughter. And it is quite time, my +reader, that you made her acquaintance also. To do which it will be +necessary to cross the water. + + + + +CHAPTER X. +MISS ROSE DARLING. + + +You all know that crowded seaport town on the other side the +water--Belport-on-the-Sea; and are therefore aware that its +educational establishments, good, bad, and indifferent, are numerous. +But I must ask you not to confound the one you are about to enter, +Madame de Nino's, with any of those others, no matter what their +merits may be. The small, select, and most costly establishment of +Madame de Nino was of the very highest standing; it was intended +solely for the reception of gentlemen's daughters--was really confined +to them; and no pupil could be admitted to it without an undeniable +introduction. It was perhaps the only French school to which anxious +parents could confide a daughter free from doubt on the score of her +associations: whatever her fellow-pupils might be in mind and manners, +they were sure to be of gentle birth. + +On that very same day that took Mrs. Darling down to Alnwick Hall on +the visit to her widowed daughter, Madame de Nino's pupils were +gathered in the large schoolroom. Class was over for the day, and the +girls were tired enough. They hated Fridays. There was no dancing, no +drawing, no walking; nothing but hard unbroken learning, writing, and +practising. + +Look at this class of elder girls, their ages varying from sixteen to +twenty, sitting on a bench at the first-class table. Those in the +middle sit very back, their spines crooked into a bow, those beyond +them on either side sit rather forward, and the two end girls are +turned, each sideways, an elbow on the desk; So that they form a +semicircle. They are gossiping away in English, which is against the +rules; but the teachers are also fatigued with the long and hot day, +and do not pay attention. The studying for prizes had begun, and +during that period the work was greatly augmented, both of pupils and +teachers. + +Look well at the three middle girls. We shall have little to do with +the others, but a great deal with them. And they are noticeable +besides, for two of them are beautiful, but so unlike in their beauty. +The one is a very Hebe, with laughing blue eyes, brilliant complexion, +and a shower of golden curls; and she is Mrs. Darling's youngest +daughter, Rose. The other is Adeline de Castella, a name and face fit +for a romance in history. She is graceful, charming, with dark-brown +eyes and hair, and more exquisite features than were ever carved in +marble. The third is Mary Carr, quiet and ladylike, whose good sense +served to keep the wildness of Miss Rose Darling somewhat in check. +For Rose was one of the wildest girls that had ever kept alive Madame +de Nino's staid and most respectable school; wild, wilful, clever, +careless; and vain as a peacock. + +Had Rose been of a more sedate disposition, less given to random ways, +Mrs. Darling might not have kept her at school so long, for Rose was +eighteen. She was dreadfully rebellious over it, and perhaps the +judiciousness of the measure, as a restriction, may be questioned. +Mrs. Darling, by way of soothing the pill, allowed Rose to visit much; +and when the girls came to this age Madame de Nino acquiesced in the +parents' wishes, but Rose went out more than any previous pupil had +ever been known to do. She had many friends sojourning in the town, +and was courted on her own account, being excessively liked by every +one. + +Always in scrapes of one sort or another, or getting out of them, was +she: and she had her own way in the school, and _would_ have it. + +One of Miss Rose Darling's propensities was to be continually falling +in love. Almost every time she went out, she would favour the envious +girls, on her return, with a description of some fresh cavalier who +had laid siege to her heart; for half her pleasure in the thing lay in +these boasts to her companions. The last idea of the kind had +prevailed longer than usual. A gentleman, whom she had only seen at +church or in their walks, was the new gallant. Rose did not know his +name, but he was very handsome, and she raved of him. The school +called him her _fiancé_; not in the least to Rose's displeasure. +On this evening, as you look at them, Rose is in a state of +semi-explosion, because one of the other girls, Miss Caroline Davis, +who had been fetched out that evening by her friends, was now telling +Rose that she had seen this gentleman as she was being conducted back +to Madame de Nino's. + +"That comes of my being kept at school. Mamma ought to be punished. +You be quiet, Mary Carr! I shall talk against my mother if I like. +Where did you see him, Carry Davis?" + +"In the Grand' Rue. He was strolling up it. My aunt bowed to him." + +"I know he was watching for me! These horrid Friday evenings! I wish +the school could take scarlet fever, or something of that sort, and +then perhaps Madame might send us out every day! Your aunt must know +him. Davis, if she bowed: didn't you ask his name?" + +"No, I forgot to ask it." + +"What an idiot you are! If I don't learn it in a day or two I shall go +mad. He----" + +"Hush!" whispered Caroline Davis. "See how those French are listening! +They'll go and tell Mademoiselle that we are speaking English. There's +a new pupil come in tonight," she added aloud, in the best French she +could call up. + +"Not a pupil," dissented Adeline de Castella. "She used to be a pupil, +but is coming now on a sort of visit to Madame, during her mother's +absence in England. They have been travelling lately in Italy." + +"Who is she?" asked Rose. "What's her name?" + +"Eleanor Seymour. Her mother is the Honourable Mrs. Seymour; she was +the daughter of Lord Loftus," continued Adeline, who spoke English +perfectly, and understood our grades of rank as well as we do. +"Eleanor Seymour is one of the nicest girls I know; but I suppose she +will not be Eleanor Seymour very long, for she is engaged to Mr. +Marlborough." + +"Who's Mr. Marlborough?" asked Rose again. + +"I don't know him," said Adeline. "He is very rich, I believe; he is +staying at Belport." + +"Le souper, mesdemoiselles," called out Mademoiselle Henriette, the +head-teacher. + +As Adeline de Castella said, Eleanor's mother was the Honourable Mrs. +Seymour and the daughter of Lord Loftus. Being this, Mrs. Seymour held +her head higher, and was allowed to do it, than any one else in the +Anglo-French watering-place, and prided herself on her "blood." It +sometimes happens that where this "blood" predominates, other +requisites are in scarcity; and it was so with Mrs. Seymour. She was +so poor that she hardly knew how to live: her aristocratic relatives +helped her out, and they had paid Eleanor's heavy school bills, and so +she got along somehow. Her husband, Captain Seymour, dead this many a +year ago, had been of even higher connections than herself; also poor. +Lord Loftus had never forgiven his daughter for marrying the +portionless young officer; and to be even with her, erased her name +from his will. She was a tall, faded lady now, with a hooked nose and +supercilious grey eyes. + +When Eleanor left school--as accomplished a young lady as ever Madame +de Nino's far-famed establishment turned out--she went on a visit to +her aristocratic relatives on both sides, and then travelled to Italy +and other places with her mother. This spring they had returned, +having been away two years, and settled down in the old place. The +tattlers said (and if you want tattle in perfection, go to any of +these idle continental watering-places) that Eleanor would never get +the opportunity of changing away the name of Seymour: men of rank +would not be very likely to seek one situated as she was, and Mrs. +Seymour would never allow Eleanor to marry any other. The battle was +soon to come. + +There came into Belport one day, on his road to Paris, a good-looking +young fellow named George Marlborough. Mrs. Seymour was introduced to +him at the house of a friend, and though she bowed (figuratively) to +his personal attractions, she turned up her haughty nose afterwards +when alone with Eleanor, and spoke of him contemptuously. One of the +rich commoners of England, indeed! she slightingly said; she hated +commoners, especially these rich ones, for they were apt to forget the +broad gulf that lay between them and the aristocracy. The old +Marlborough, Mr. George's father, had begun life as a clerk or a +servant--she could not tell which, neither did it matter--and had +plodded on, until he was the proprietor of an extensive trade, and of +great wealth. Iron works, or coal works; or it might be cotton works; +something down in the North, she believed; and this George, the eldest +son, had been brought up to be an iron man too--if it was iron. She +desired Eleanor to be very distant with him, if they met again: he had +seemed inclined to talk to her. + +Now poor Eleanor Seymour found this difficult to obey. Mr. George +Marlborough remained in the town instead of going on to Paris, and was +continually meeting Eleanor. She, poor girl, had not inherited her +mother's exclusive notions; labour as Mrs. Seymour would, she had +never been able to beat them into her; and Eleanor grew to like +these meetings just as much as Mr. Marlborough did. It was the old +tale--they fell in love with each other. + +Mrs. Seymour, when the news was broken to her, lifted her haughty +eyelids on George Marlborough, and expressed a belief that the world +was coming to an end. It might not have been disclosed to her quite so +soon, but that she was about to depart for England on a lengthened +visit to an elder sister, from whom she cherished expectations, during +which absence Eleanor was to be the guest of Madame de Nino. Mr. +Marlborough, who had never once been admitted within Mrs. Seymour's +house, took the opportunity of asking for an interview one evening +that he had walked from the pier in attendance on them, by Eleanor's +side. With a slight gesture of surprise, a movement of her drooping +eyelids, the lady led the way to the drawing-room, and Eleanor escaped +upstairs. + +She sat in her own room, listening. About ten minutes elapsed--it +seemed to Eleanor as many hours--and then the drawing-room bell was +rung. Not loud and fast, as though her mother were in anger, but +quietly. The next moment she heard Mr. Marlborough's step, as he was +shown out of the house. Was he rejected? Eleanor thought so. + +The bell rang sharply now, and a summons came for Eleanor. She +trembled from head to foot as she went down. + +"Eleanor!" began her mother, in her sternest tone, "you knew of this +application to me?" + +Eleanor could not deny it. She burst into frightened, agitated tears. + +"The disgrace of having encouraged the addresses of an iron man! It is +iron: he made no scruple of avowing it. Indeed, you may well cry! Look +at his people--all iron too: do you think they are fit to mate with +ours? His father was nothing but a working man, and has made himself +what he is by actual labour, and the son didn't blush when he said it +to me! Besides--I hope I may be forgiven for plotting and planning for +you--but I have always hoped that you would become the wife of John +Seymour." + +"_His_ wife," sobbed Eleanor. "Oh, mamma, John Seymour's nobody." + +"Nobody!" echoed the indignant lady. "Lord John Seymour nobody!" + +"But I don't like him, mother." + +"Ugh!" growled Mrs. Seymour. "Listen. I have not accepted the +proposals of this Mr. Marlborough; but I have not rejected them. I +must say he seems liberal enough and rich enough; proposing I don't +know what in the way of settlements: but these low-born people are +often lavish. So now, if you have made up your mind to abandon your +rank and your order, and every good that makes life valuable, and to +enter a family who don't possess as much as a crest, you must do so. +Mr. Marlborough obligingly assured me your happiness was centred in +him." + +Ah, what mattered the contempt of the tone, while that sweet feeling +of joy diffused itself through Eleanor's heart? + +"No reply now," continued Mrs. Seymour, sternly. "The decision lies +with you; but I will not have you speak in haste. Take the night to +reflect on the advantages you enjoy in your unblemished descent; +reflect well before you take any step to sully it. Tomorrow you can +announce your answer." + +You need not ask what Eleanor's answer was. And so, when she entered +on her visit at Madame de Nino's, she was an engaged girl; and the +engagement was already known to the world. + +Miss Seymour requested that she might be treated entirely as a pupil. +She asked even to join the classes, laughingly saying to Madame de +Nino that it would rub up what she had forgotten. She took her place +in the schoolroom accordingly. Rose Darling saw a pale girl, with dark +hair and a sweet countenance; and Rose criticized her mercilessly, as +she did every one. Another of the schoolgirls, named Emma Mowbray, a +surly, envious girl, whom no one liked, made ill-natured remarks on +Eleanor. Miss Seymour certainly presented a contrast to some of them, +with her beautifully arranged hair, her flowing muslin dress, and her +delicate hands. Schoolgirls, as a whole, are careless of their +appearance _in_ school; and, as a rule, they have red hands. Madame de +Nino's pupils were no exception. Rose was vain, and therefore always +well-dressed; Adeline de Castella was always well-dressed; but Emma +Mowbray and others were not. Emma's hands, too, were red and coarse, +and more so than even those of the careless schoolgirls. Adeline's +were naturally beautiful; and Rose took so much care of hers, wearing +gloves in bed in winter, with some mysterious pomade inside. + +Rose made little acquaintance with Eleanor that day. She, Rose, went +out to tea in the afternoon, and came back very cross: for she had not +once set eyes on her _fiancé_. The story was told to Eleanor Seymour; +who sympathized with her of course, having a lover of her own. + +The next day was Sunday. The French girls were conducted at ten +o'clock to mass; the English would leave the house as usual for church +a quarter before eleven. Rose was dressed and waiting long before; her +impatience on Sunday mornings was great. Rose was in mourning, and a +source of secret chagrin that fact was, for she liked gay clothes +better than sombre ones. + +"And so would you be worrying if you had some one waiting for you at +the church as I have," retorted Rose, in answer to a remark on her +restless impatience, which had been proffered to Miss Seymour by Emma +Mowbray. + +"Waiting for you?" returned Eleanor, looking at Rose, but not +understanding. + +"She means her lover, Miss Seymour," said Emma Mowbray. + +"Yes, I do; and I don't care if I avow it," cried Rose, her face +glowing. "I know he loves me. He never takes his eyes off me in +church, and every glance speaks of love." + +"He looks up at the other schools as much as he looks at ours," said +Emma Mowbray, who could rarely speak without a sneer. "Besides, he +only returns the glances you give him: love or no love, he would be a +sorry gallant not to do that." + +"Last Thursday," cried Rose, unmindful of the reproof, "he smiled and +took off his hat to me as the school passed him in the street." + +"But little Annette Duval said she saw you nod to him first!" said +Charlotte Singleton, the archdeacon's daughter. + +"Annette Duval's a miserable little story-teller. I'll box her ears +when she comes in from mass. The fact is, Miss Seymour," added Rose, +turning to the stranger who had come amidst them, "the girls here are +all jealous of me, and Emma Mowbray doubly jealous. He is one of the +divinest fellows that ever walked upon the earth. You should see his +eyes and his auburn hair." + +"With a tinge of red in it," put in Emma Mowbray. + +"Well; you must point him out to me," said Eleanor, and then hastened +to change the conversation, for she had an instinctive dread of any +sort of quarrelling, and disliked ill-nature. Emma Mowbray had not +favourably impressed her: Rose had, in spite of her vanity and her +random avowals. "You are in mourning, Miss Darling?" + +"Yes, for my eldest sister's husband, Mr. Carleton St. John. But I +have a new white bonnet, you see, though he has not been dead many +weeks: and I don't care whether mamma finds it out or not. I told the +milliner she need not specify in the bill whether the bonnet was white +or black. Oh dear! where is Mademoiselle Clarisse?" + +Mademoiselle Clarisse, the teacher who took them to church (and who +took also a book hidden under her own arm to read surreptitiously +during the sermon, not a word of which discourse could her French ears +understand) came at last. As the school took its seats in the gallery +of the church, the few who were in Rose's secret looked down with +interest, for the gentleman in question was then coming up the middle +aisle, accompanied by a lady and a little girl. + +"There he is!" whispered Rose to Eleanor, next to whom she sat, and +her voice was as one glow of exultation, and her cheeks flushed +crimson. "Going into the pew below. There: he is handing in the little +girl. Do you see?" + +"Yes," replied Eleanor. "What of him?" + +"It is he. He whom the girls tease me about, my _fiancé_, as they call +him, I trust my future husband. That he loves me, I am positive." + +Eleanor answered nothing. Her face was as red as Rose's just then; but +Rose was too much occupied with something else to notice it. The +gentleman--who was really a handsome young man--was looking up at the +gallery, and a bright smile of recognition, meant for one of them, +shone on his face. Rose naturally took it to herself. + +"Did you see that? _did_ you see that?" she whispered right and left. +"Emma Mowbray, who took first notice now?" + +The service began. At its conclusion Rose pushed unceremoniously out +of the pew, and the rest followed her, in spite of precedent, for the +schools waited until last; and in spite of Mademoiselle Clarisse. But, +on the previous Sunday, Rose had been too late to see him: he had left +the church. On this, as the event proved, she was too early, for he +had not come out; and Mademoiselle Clarisse, who was in a terrible +humour with them for their rudeness, marched them home at a quick +pace. + +"If ever truth and faith were in man, I know they are in him!" raved +Rose, when they got home, and were in the dressing-room. "He'll make +the best husband in the world." + +"You have not got him yet," cried Emma Mowbray. + +"Bah! Did you see the look and smile he gave me? Did _you_ see it, +Miss Seymour?--and I don't suppose you are prejudiced against me as +these others are. There was true love in that smile, if ever I saw +love. That ugly Mademoiselle Clarisse, to have dragged us on so! I +wish she had been taken with apoplexy on the steps! He---- Where's +Miss Seymour gone to?" broke off Rose, for Eleanor had quitted the +dressing-room without taking off her things. + +"I heard her say she was invited to dine at Mrs. Marlborough's," +answered Mary Carr. + +"I say! there's the dinner-bell. Make haste, all of you! I wonder they +don't ring it before we get home!" + +That afternoon Madame de Nino conducted the girls to church herself. A +truly good Catholic, as she was, she was no bigot, and now and then +sat in the English church. The young ladies did not thank her. They +were obliged to be on church-behaviour then: there could be no +inattention with her; no staring about, however divine might be the +male part of the congregation; no rushing out early or stopping late, +according to their own pleasure. Rose's lover was not there, and Rose +fidgeted on her seat; but just as the service began, the lady and +little girl they had noticed in the morning came up the aisle, and he +followed by the side of Eleanor Seymour. The girls did not dare to +bend forward to look at Rose, Madame being there. The tip of her +pretty nose, all that could be seen of her, was very pale. + +"The forward creature! the deceitful good-for-nothing!" broke from +Rose Darling's lips when they got home. "You girls have called me +bold, but look at that brazen Eleanor Seymour! She never saw him until +this morning: I pointed him out to her in church for the first time; +and she must go and make acquaintance with him in this barefaced +manner! As sure as she lives, I'll expose her to Madame de Nino! A +girl like that would contaminate the school! If our friends knew we +were exposed to her companionship, they'd remove----" + +Rose's passionate words were cut short by the entrance of Madame +herself, who came in to give some instructions to the teachers, for +she was going out for the evening. Rose, too angry to weigh her words +or their possible consequences, went up to Madame, and said something +in a fast, confused tone. Madame de Nino, a portly, dark-eyed, kind +woman, concluded her directions, and then turned to Rose, who was a +favoured pupil. + +"What do you say, Mademoiselle Rose? Did I see the gentleman who was +at church with Miss Seymour? Yes; a very prepossessing young man. I +spoke with him today when they came for her." + +A moment's puzzled wonder, and then a frightful thought took hold of +Rose. + +"Do you know him, Madame?" she gasped. "Who is he?" + +"Young Mr. Marlborough. Mademoiselle Eleanor is betrothed to him." + +Madame left the room. And the girls sat breathless with astonishment, +scarcely daring to steal a glance at Rose Darling's white and stony +features. + +The weeks went on to the sultry days of August, and most of the girls +were studying away might and main for the prizes. A day-pupil had +temporarily entered the school, Anna Marlborough, the youngest of the +Marlborough family, and the only one who had come abroad with her +mother. It was not Madame de Nino's habit to admit day-pupils, but she +had made an exception in favour of this child, who was to be in the +town but a few weeks. + +Will it be credited that Rose Darling was still pursuing her +preposterous flirtation with George Marlborough, in the face of the +discovery that he was engaged to Eleanor Seymour? But there was +something to be urged in her favour, though you are no doubt surprised +to hear me say it. Had a jury been trying Rose, they might have +returned a verdict, "Guilty, with extenuating circumstances." Rose +seemed bewitched. There is no doubt that a real, an ardent passion for +George Marlborough had arisen in her heart, filling its every crevice; +and she regarded Eleanor (she could not help it) with a fierce, +jealous rivalry. But the girl, with all her random folly, was no fool; +and but for certain events that arose, might have remained as +quiescent as she could, until her ill-starred love died out. + +It did not, and could not, contribute to any good resolutions she +might have had strength and sense to form, to find herself on intimate +terms with Mr. Marlborough, a frequent visitor to his house. _That_ +mistake was, in the first instance, Eleanor Seymour's. Eleanor had +been commissioned by Mrs. Marlborough to invite three or four of the +young ladies to accompany her there to dinner; something was said in +the school about her not _daring_ to ask Rose; and Eleanor invited +Rose forthwith. Rose went. It had been more prudent had she stayed at +home: but Rose was not one of the prudent sort: and the temptation was +irresistible. Mrs. Marlborough was charmed with her, and so was +George. Whether the gentleman detected Rose's feelings for himself, +and was flattered, or whether he had no objection to a flirtation with +a pretty girl, although engaged to another, certain it was he paid +Rose considerable attention, and laughed and joked with her much. + +_Joked_ with her. It was all done on his part in the spirit of joking, +as Eleanor Seymour might have seen; but joking sometimes leads to +something more. Messages from one to the other, begun in folly, often +passed; and Anna Marlborough, a giddy girl of twelve, was the +go-between. Just upon this, Rose's brother, Captain Darling, came to +Belport; he soon struck up a friendship with Mr. Marlborough, and here +was another link in Rose's chain. She would meet the two young men in +the street, and leave the ranks, in defiance of rules, ostensibly to +shake hands with Frank, really to talk nonsense with Mr. Marlborough. +Even Eleanor Seymour, when out with the school, would conform to its +rules and only bow and smile as he passed. Not so Rose. The girls +would have gone the length of the street, two sometimes, before she +caught them up, panting and flushed and looking radiant, and boasting +of what George had said to her. It was of no use the teachers +remonstrating and forbidding; do it she would, and do it she did. + +This was what may be called the open, harmless stage of the affair. +But it was to go on to another. + +There was a large party given one night at a Scotch laird's, Sir Sandy +Maxwell, and Miss Seymour and Rose were invited. You may be aware, +perhaps, that it is the custom in French schools, generally speaking, +for the pupils to visit or not, according to the directions left by +the parents. This had been accorded to Rose by Mrs. Darling; and +Eleanor Seymour was not as a schoolgirl--therefore Madame de Nino, +though openly expressing her disapprobation of these large parties +while young ladies were pursuing their studies, did not refuse. Emma +Mowbray offered a bet to the school that Mr. Marlborough would dance +more dances with Rose than with Eleanor; and so eager were the girls +to hear the result, that those in the large _dortoir_ kept awake until +they came home. It had struck one o'clock, and Madame was up in arms; +she had only given them to half-past eleven, and they had kept the +coach waiting all that time, while Madame's own maid, old Félicité, +was inside it. After all, there was nothing to hear, for Mr. +Marlborough had not made his appearance at the party. + +Class was not over the next morning until very late; it always was +late just before giving the prizes. It was the third Thursday in +August, the _sorti_ day, and three of the girls were going with +Eleanor to dine at Mrs. Marlborough's: Rose, Mary Carr, and Adeline de +Castella. The invitations were left to Miss Seymour, and she always +fixed on Rose, in a sort of bravado, but she never once chose Emma +Mowbray; and this gave that young lady considerable offence, as was +known to the school. They were to partake of the usual dinner at +school by way of luncheon, the Marlboroughs not dining until six. +While the cloth was being laid, the girls dispersed about, some in the +courtyard, some in the garden, all in the shade, for it was very +sultry. There was certainly something more than common the matter with +Rose: she appeared half-crazy with joy. + +"It is because she's going out," remarked Mary Carr to Eleanor. + +"Is it, though!" put in Emma Mowbray; "that's only a little item in +the cause. She has just had a love-letter from Mr. Marlborough." + +Eleanor Seymour's cheek changed. + +"Don't talk absurdities," said Mary Carr to the Mowbray girl. + +"Absurdities!" she retorted, moving away. "If I can, I'll convince +you." + +A minute or two, and she came back with a letter in her hand--an open +letter, addressed in George Marlborough's hand to Rose--and handed it +to Mary Carr. + +"Am I to read it?" asked the latter. + +"If you choose. It is _pro bono publico_, Rose says." And Miss Carr +read the letter aloud. + + +"My Dearest, + +"You must have been surprised not to see me at Sir Sandy's. I was +dressing to come, when a message arrived for me from the Hôtel du +Nord; poor Priestley had met with a sad accident to his hand from the +bursting of a gun. I have been sitting up with him until now, four +o'clock a.m., but I write this to you before I sleep, for you have a +right now to my every thought, to know every movement. You dine here +today, my fair _fiancée_ also; but I wish you were coming alone. + +"Ever yours only, + +"George Marlborough." + + +Was there any mistake in the letter? Mary Carr had often heard of +such. _Could_ it have been written to Rose? Alas, yes! it was all too +plain. The writing was George Marlborough's; the address, "Miss Rose +Darling, En Ville," was his; and the seal, "G.M.," was his also. Mary +rose, and stood before Eleanor, shielding her from observation, as she +beckoned to Anna Marlborough: while Emma Mowbray looked defiant, and +asked whether they would believe her next time. + +The child was dancing about the courtyard. She was young, and the +school made her a sort of plaything: she came dancing up to Miss Carr. + +"Now, Anna, I have something to ask you; and if you equivocate by +so much as a word, I will acquaint Madame de Nino that there's a +letter-carrier in the school; you would be expelled that same hour. +Did you bring a note here from your brother this morning?" + +"Yes, I did," stammered Anna. "Don't tell of me, please." + +"I'll not tell, if you speak the truth. To whom did you bring it?" + +"To Miss Darling." + +"Did he send it to _her?_ What did he say when he gave it to you?" + +"He told me to give it into her own hands when nobody was by, and to +give his love with it," answered Anna. "Oh, pray don't tell of me, +Miss Carr! It's nothing much more than usual; he often sends his love +by me to Miss Darling." + +"Was _this_ the letter you brought?" holding out the one she still +retained in her hand. + +"Yes, it was that. I'll never do it again," continued Anna, growing +frightened, and bursting into tears. + +Which caused Miss Mowbray to rate her for a "little fool;" and Anna +ran away, glad to be released. Close upon that, up dashed Rose in +agitation, having discovered the loss of her note. The note had not +been declared by Rose to be _pro bono public_, and Emma Mowbray had +dishonourably abstracted it from her apron pocket. Rose got possession +of it again, but she was in a great passion with Emma Mowbray: in +fact, with them all. + +And poor Eleanor Seymour! She was white as marble when Mary turned to +her. Sitting there, on the old wooden bench, so outwardly calm and +still, she had heard the whole. Clasping Mary Carr's hands with a +painful pressure, she burst into an uncontrollable fit of weeping, and +glided in at the porch-door to gain the staircase. "Make any excuse +for me at the dinner-table, Mary," she whispered. + +_Need_ you be told that that letter was really written to Eleanor? The +words "fair _fiancée_" in it alone related to Rose, and Mr. +Marlborough had penned them in laughing allusion to the joke in the +school. The plot was Emma Mowbray's, a little bit of revenge on +Eleanor and Rose, both of whom she envied and disliked. She had made +Anna her tool. The child, at her prompting, wrote a letter to Rose, +and got her brother to direct and seal it; and Emma Mowbray opened the +two envelopes cleverly by means of passing a penknife under the seals, +and substituted the one note for the other. Thus Eleanor's letter was +conveyed to Rose; the other Emma Mowbray burnt; and she promised a +whole _charrette_ full of good things to Anna to keep her counsel. +Being a mischief-loving little damsel, Miss Anna did so; though she +was nearly frightened out of it by Miss Carr. + +This may sound very shallow, very weak, but I assure you the +circumstances took place just as they are described. Had George +Marlborough only put Eleanor's _name_ in the note, the trick could not +have been played. But he did not do so. And neither Rose nor Eleanor +suspected for a moment that there was anything about the note not +genuine; or that it had not been written to Rose. + +They went to dinner at Mrs. Marlborough's--Eleanor with her beating +heart of resentment and her outraged love, Rose radiant with happiness +and beauty. The evening did not mend matters, but rather added very +much to the broil. May the word be forgiven?--I was thinking of the +French one. Eleanor, cold, haughty, contemptuous, was almost insulting +to Mr. Marlborough; and Rose, it is to be feared, let him see, that +evening, where her best love was given. He took more than one +opportunity of asking Eleanor how he had offended her, but he could +get no answer. If she had only given him a clue to it, how much +trouble and misery would have been saved! but the very _asking_ on his +part seemed to Eleanor only adding insult to injury. You see they were +all at cross-purposes, and just for the want of a little word of +explanation. + +From that hour there was no peace, no mutual understanding between +Eleanor and Mr. Marlborough. He repeatedly sought an explanation of +the sudden change in her behaviour, sometimes by letter, sometimes in +words. She never would give an answer to either. She returned his +letters in blank envelopes, or tore them to pieces before the +messenger's eyes; she refused to see him if he called; she haughtily +held aloof from him when they met. Mrs. Marlborough saw that something +was wrong, but as neither of them made her their confidant, she did +not interfere, and she supposed it to be only a lovers' quarrel. She +had not known Eleanor long, having come to Belport only the week +before that Sunday Rose first saw her at church. Rose alone seemed in +a state of happiness, of ecstatic delight; and Anna now carried no end +of notes and messages to and fro, and kept it secret from the school. +Rose had committed one great folly--she had written to Mr. Marlborough +after the receipt of that first letter. But then, it must be always +remembered that no suspicion had yet crossed her mind that it was not +_written to her_ and meant for her. Rose fully believed--let it be her +excuse--that Mr. Marlborough had transferred his affections from +Eleanor to herself: the school believed it. Whether she really hoped +she should succeed in supplanting Eleanor in the offer of marriage, in +becoming afterwards his wife, cannot be told. The girls thought she +did, and they were sharp observers. At any rate, Rose now deemed the +field as legitimately open to her, as it was to Eleanor. + +The day for awarding the prizes was a great day. The girls were +attired in white, with blue sashes and blue neck-ribbons; and the +hairdresser arrived very early in the morning to get done in time. A +large company arrived by invitation; and just before the hour for +going in, some of the girls saw Rose in the garden talking to a +gentleman. Madéleine de Gassicourt, usually so short-sighted, espied +her out. + +"It must be her brodare wid her," cried Madeleine, who was not in the +secret. "She will derange her hair before we do go in." + +Emma Mowbray peered through the trees. It was no "brodare," but Mr. +Marlborough. He was bending down to Rose; she appeared to be crying, +and he held her hand in his as he talked to her earnestly. Emma +Mowbray glanced round at Eleanor, who was at the window, and saw it +all. She was very pale and still, her lips compressed. + +But Rose's stolen interview could have lasted only a few fleeting +minutes. The hands of the clock were then pointing towards two, and as +the hour struck she was amongst them, and they were being marshalled +for the entrance to the prize-room. It was a pleasing sight when they +went in, making their reverences to the assembled visitors. Two pretty +young English girls walked first--sisters; and certainly the two +prettiest of the elders walked last; Rose Darling and Adeline de +Castella; both beautiful, but so unlike in their beauty. Adeline +gained nine prizes; Rose only two. But Rose had been studying for +another sort of prize. + +The holidays succeeded--dull and quiet. Of the elder girls, Adeline, +Rose, and Mary Carr alone remained, and there was, of course, Miss +Seymour. Mrs. Marlborough was leaving the town; George was not. +Eleanor, who seemed to be visibly declining, would not go out +anywhere, so she did not meet him; but Rose, always out, met him +constantly. + +One afternoon, when Eleanor was growing paler day by day, a bit of +folded paper was brought to her in the schoolroom. She opened it, and +saw a few words in pencil-- + +"I am now waiting in the salon. You have been denied to me as usual; +yet, Eleanor, let me entreat you to grant me, for this once, an +interview. I leave by the boat for London tonight, but if I can see +you now, my voyage may not be necessary. By the love we once bore each +other, I beseech you, Eleanor, come.--G. M." + +Eleanor read it, tore the paper deliberately in two, and handed the +pieces to Clotilde. "Give that to the gentleman," she haughtily said. +"There is no other answer." + +Rose followed the maid from the room. "Clotilde," she whispered, "who +is in the salon?" + +"The handsome monsieur that was going to marry himself, as people +said, with Mademoiselle Seymour," was the servant's rejoinder. + +"Give me the answer," said Rose, taking the torn pieces from her hand. +"I want to send a message to Madame, his mother, and will deliver +this. I say, Clotilde, don't tell Madame that he's here." + +The unsuspicious servant went about her business; and Miss Rose +tripped to the salon, and stayed as long as she dared. + +That same evening Eleanor Seymour was giving Mary Carr a description +of Rome; they were seated in a corner of the small class-room; and +Adeline de Castella corrected her when she was wrong, for _she_ knew +Rome well. Mademoiselle Josephine (Mam'selle Fifine, the school called +her in general), the only teacher remaining, was at her table in front +of the window, writing letters. When it grew too dark to see, she +closed her desk, turned round, and suddenly, as if surprised not to +see her with the others, asked where Rose was. + +The young ladies did not know. Rose had been upstairs in the bedroom +since the afternoon. She came down for collation, and went up again +directly. + +Mam'selle Fifine began to scold; she was the crossest of all the +teachers, except Mam'selle Clarisse. It was not likely Miss Rose was +stopping upstairs in the dark; she must have got a light, which, as +Mesdemoiselles knew well, was contrary to rules. And she told Miss +Carr to go and desire her to come down. + +Mary Carr rose with a yawn; they had been sitting there long, and she +felt cramped. "Who will go with me?" she asked. + +Both the young ladies responded, and all three stumbled up the dark +staircase together. They found no light in the bedrooms, and could see +nothing of Rose. Thinking it possible she might have fallen asleep on +one of the beds, Adeline ran down and got a candle from one of the +servants. + +There was no Rose; but on her bed lay a sealed note, addressed to Miss +Carr;-- + + +"Dear Mary, + +"I know you have been against me for some time. Miss Seymour and I +were rivals--equals on a fair ground; you would have helped _her_ on, +though it left me to a broken heart. I believe it has been a +neck-and-neck race between us, but I have won. I hope mamma will +reconcile herself to the step I am taking; I always longed to make a +runaway marriage, it is so romantic; and if Frank flies out about it, +I shan't care, for I shan't hear him. When next you see me I shall be + +"Rose Marlborough." + + +"Look to Miss Seymour!" broke from the quivering lips of Adeline de +Castella. And it was timely spoken, for Eleanor was fainting. Scarcely +had she revived, when Mam'selle Fifine came up, angry at the delay. + +The note they did not dare to show; but were obliged to confess to the +absence of Rose, saying, _tout bonnement_, as Adeline called it, that +they could not find her. + +Rose not to be found! Madame de Nino was dining out, and Mam'selle +Fifine was terrified out of her sober senses. In the midst of the +hubbub that ensued, Julie, the head fille-de-chambre, put her head in +at the door, and said, "The Honourable Mrs. Seymour." + +At a time of less commotion they would have burst out laughing. Julie +had been nurse in a nobleman's family in England; she had there become +familiar with British titles, and was as fond of using them as she was +of using her English. One day Ethel Daw's mother came to see her; a +very fine lady, all flounces, and feathers, and gold chains. It was +Julie's luck to show her to the salon; and she came to the schoolroom +afterwards, flung open the door, and called out, "Mrs. Daw, Esquire." +Julie did not hear the last of that. The girls called her ever after +Squire Daw. + +"The Honourable Mrs. Seymour." + +With a sharp cry Eleanor started up, and flew into her mother's arms, +sobbing convulsively. + +"Oh, mamma, take me home! take me home!" + +Mrs. Seymour was thunderstruck, not only at Eleanor's cry of pain, but +at the change in her appearance. She had just returned from London. +Mary Carr disclosed a little of the truth. She thought it best; and, +indeed, was unable to evade the keen questioning of Mrs. Seymour. But +Rose's note, with the information it contained, was buried in silence +still. Mrs. Seymour took her daughter home at once; and there Eleanor +told the whole--that Rose had really gone away with Mr. Marlborough. +Mrs. Seymour folded her aristocratic hands, and distinctly desired +that no further allusion to it should ever pass her daughter's lips, +as it would not her own. It was a retribution on them, she said, for +having trusted an "iron man." + +Meanwhile, Adeline de Castella and Mary Carr kept their own counsel +through sheer obligation: as they had not declared all they knew at +once, they dared not declare it now. And Madame de Nino verily +believed Rose had been spirited away to the skies. + +It was three days afterwards. Mrs. Seymour sat in her drawing-room, +the green Venetian shutters partially closed, and the blinds down, for +Eleanor lay on the sofa quite prostrated. Mrs. Seymour was in a state +of as much indignation as was consistent with her high birth and her +proclaimed assertion that they were "well rid of him;" for, in spite +of the "iron" drawback, she had grown to hug to her heart the prospect +of this most desirable establishment for Eleanor. + +Suddenly the door opened, and the iron man himself walked in. Eleanor +struggled up from the sofa, and Mrs. Seymour rose in hauteur, all the +blood of the Loftuses flashing from her light grey eyes. Then ensued a +contest; each side struggling for the mastership; Mrs. Seymour +refusing to hold commune with him, and Mr. Marlborough insisting upon +being heard. + +He had gone to England three days ago in search of her, he said; he +then found she had left for France, and he had followed her. His +object was to request that she would lay her commands on Eleanor to +afford him an explanation. Eleanor had been his promised wife; and +without offence on his part, without any known cause, her behaviour +had suddenly changed to him. In vain he had sought an explanation of +her; she would afford him none; and his only resource was to appeal to +Mrs. Seymour. If Eleanor refused to fulfil her engagement with him, he +could not insist upon it; but he must insist upon knowing the reason +for the change: to that he had a right. + +"You had better leave the room quietly, sir," said Mrs. Seymour in +frigid tones. "It will not be pleasant to you if I call my servants." + +"I will not leave it without an explanation," he replied. "Mrs. +Seymour, you cannot refuse it; if Eleanor will not give it me in +courtesy, I repeat that I must demand it as a right. Eleanor's conduct +at the time seemed to imply that there was some cause of complaint +against me. What was it? I declare to you solemnly that I was +unconscious of it; that I was innocent of offence against her." + +His words and manner were painfully earnest and truthful, and Mrs. +Seymour hesitated. + +"Has there been any mistake, Eleanor?" she hesitated, appealing to her +daughter. + +"Oh, let me know what it is," he implored, before Eleanor could speak. +"Whatever it may be--mistake--cause--reality--let me know it." + +"Well, sir," cried Mrs. Seymour, making a sudden resolution, "I will +first ask you what you have done with that unfortunate young lady, +whom you took away from her sheltering roof and her duties, three days +ago?" + +"I took no young lady away," replied Mr. Marlborough. + +"What have you done with Miss Darling?" + +"Not anything." + +"You did not induce her to elope with you? You did not take her to +London?" + +"Indeed, no. I saw Miss Darling on the port the evening I went away, +and left her there. She was with her brother. But this is no +explanation, Mrs. Seymour. Eleanor," he added, walking up, and +standing before her, "I once again appeal to you. What was the cause +of your first and sudden coldness?" + +"Speak out, Eleanor," said her mother. "I know almost as little as Mr. +Marlborough, but I now think the matter should be cleared up, that we +may come at the truth. There must be a strange mystery somewhere." + +Eleanor pressed her thin hands upon her side in agitation. She could +only speak in a whisper, in uneven sentences: and she told of the +love-letter written to Rose the day following the dance at Sir Sandy +Maxwell's. + +"It was written to you, Eleanor," said Mr. Marlborough. + +"I read that note," she answered, gasping for breath. "It was written +to Rose." + +"It was written to you, Eleanor. I have never written a loving note, +as that was, to Rose Darling in my life; on my sacred word of honour." + +"You have written several notes to Rose!" + +"True; since; but never loving ones: they might all have been posted +up on the schoolroom walls, and even Madame de Nino herself could not +have found fault with them. If this note was given to Rose, Anna must +have changed the envelopes. I remember directing one for her to Miss +Darling that morning. Eleanor," he gravely said, "I fear you have been +running your head against a chimera." + +"Rose loves you," she whispered, her heart and voice alike softening. + +"No; nonsense!"--but for all his denial there was a glow of +consciousness on Mr. Marlborough's countenance. "Eleanor, I honestly +believe that you have been listening to the folly talked by those +schoolgirls, and taken it for gospel. Rose Darling is very pretty, and +likes to be admired; and if I have been thrown a good deal with her, +who threw me? You, Eleanor, by your coldness and avoidance of me. I +don't deny that I have talked lightly and gaily with Rose, never +seriously; I don't deny that----" I have kissed her, he was going to +add in his candour, but thought it might be as well to leave that out +before Mrs. Seymour. "But my love and my allegiance have never swerved +from _you_, Eleanor." + +She burst into happy tears. Mrs. Seymour cut them short sternly. + +"Eleanor, this note that you talk of, left by Miss Darling on her bed +the other night, must have been meant as a hoax upon you and the two +credulous young ladies, your companions. I did think it a most strange +thing that a young lady of position should be guilty of anything so +vulgar as an elopement. Not but that it was excessively bad to make it +the subject even of a jest." + +"I suppose it must have been," sobbed Eleanor. "And it seemed so +earnest!" + +Mr. Marlborough could have disclosed _how_ earnest, had he chosen. In +that interview in the salon with Rose, when he told her he was going +away, he learnt how much she loved him. In the anguish of parting, +Rose dropped words that sufficiently enlightened him--if he had not +been enlightened before. He passed it all off as a jest; he said +something to the effect that he had better take her with him to +Gretna, all in jest, in simple folly: and he spoke in this light +manner for Rose's sake: he would not suffer her to think she had +betrayed her secret. What, then, was his astonishment when, in coming +out of the permit office at night on the port, preparatory to stepping +on board the boat, to see Rose! _She had taken his words seriously_. +What he would have done to save the boat in his dilemma--for he must +inevitably have lost it while he escorted Rose back to Madame de +Nino's--he did not know; but at that moment who should come up but +Captain Darling. He gave the young lady into her brother's charge, +with a half-word of explanation; and he never supposed but that Rose +had been safely lodged at school within the hour. But Mr. Marlborough +was a man who could keep his counsel on these particulars, even to +Eleanor, and he did keep it. + +"Let this be a warning to your wedded life, Eleanor," observed Mrs. +Seymour. "Never have any concealments from your husband. Had you +frankly spoken to Mr. Marlborough of that first misdirected letter, +which seems to have been the primary cause of all the mischief, the +affair would have been cleared up at once." + +"It's enough to make a man swear he will never use another envelope," +exclaimed Mr. Marlborough, with his old happy smile of love. "But you +need not have doubted me, Eleanor." + +Meanwhile, where _was_ Rose? Madame de Nino, in the eleventh stage of +desperation and perplexity, sent ten times a day to Captain Darling's +lodgings; but he had disappeared also. Mam'selle Fifine, who of course +came in for the blame, alternately sobbed and scolded aloud; and +Adeline and Mary Carr felt sick with the weight of the secret they +were keeping. This state of things, stormy within doors as the weather +was without, lasted for three days, and then Rose returned, escorted +by her brother. + +But what a shocking plight she was in! Drenched with rain and +sea-water; clothes soaked and clinging round her; quite prostrated +with three days' sea-sickness; lying half-dead all that time in a +rolling fishing-smack, the wind blowing great guns and she nearly dead +with fright; nothing to eat and drink on board but salt herrings and +sour beer, even supposing she could have eaten at all!--no wonder Rose +forgot her good manners and told her brother he was a brute for taking +her. Rose had happened to put on her best things, too: a white chip +bonnet and pearl-grey damask dress. You should have seen them when she +came in! + +So it was quite a mistake. Miss Carr and Adeline found, a trick, no +doubt, played them purposely by Rose, and there had been no elopement +at all, or thought of one: nothing but a three-days' cruise round the +coast with her brother, in the fishing-smack of some honest, rough, +hard-working sailors! Captain Darling made a thousand apologies to +Madame de Nino when he brought her home--the object that Rose +presented upon his handing her out of the coach!--and laid it all to +the fault of that treacherous wind; which had kept them at sea three +days, when he had only contemplated treating her to a little excursion +of an hour for the good of her health. + +Madame was appeased at length. But Mam'selle Fifine is sore upon the +point to this day. As she justly observed, there must have been +something out of the common amiss with that particular fishing-boat. +Granted the rough wind; but other boats made the port fast enough, so +why not that one? Rose could or would give no explanation, and was as +sullen as a bear for a whole month. + +And ere that month had well run its course, news came down from Paris +of the marriage of George Marlborough and Miss Seymour. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. +GEORGINA BEAUCLERC'S LOVE. + + +We must go to Castle Wafer. Isaac St. John has his writing-table drawn +to the open window this mellow September day, and sits at it. But he +is not writing now. He leans back in his padded chair, and the lines +of thought--of care--lie on his otherwise serene face. Care for Isaac +St. John the recluse? Verily, yes; even for him. If we could live +lives of utter isolation from our species, we might escape it; +otherwise, never. + +Looking at him now, his back buried in the soft chair, his face, so +pleasant to the eye, turned rather upwards, and his thin white hands +resting listlessly, one on the elbow of the chair, one down on his +knee, a stranger would have failed to detect anything amiss with the +person of Isaac St. John, or that it was not like other men's. For the +first forty years of Isaac St. John's existence, his days had been as +one long, ever-present mortification; that disfiguring hump and his +sensitiveness doing battle together. Why it should be so, I know not, +but it is an indisputable fact, that where any defect of person +exists, any deformity--two of the qualities pertaining to our nature +exist in the mind in a supereminent degree, sensitiveness and vanity, +perhaps for the good of the soul, certainly to the marring of its +peace. It has been so since the world began; it will be so to its +ending. Isaac St. John was no exception. There never can be an +exception; for this seems to be a law of nature. Remember the +club-foot of Byron, and what it did for him. This shrinking +sensitiveness, far more than his health, had converted Mr. St. John +into a hermit. It was terrible to him to go forth unto the gaze of his +fellow-men, for--he carried his deformity with him. Now that he was +advancing in years, growing onwards to be an old man, the feeling was +wearing off; the keen edge of the razor which had cut all ways was +becoming somewhat blunt: but it must ever remain with him in a greater +or lesser degree. + +He was not thinking of it now. It was when he was in the presence of +others, or when making up his mind to go into their presence, that the +defect was so painfully present to him. As he sat there, his brow knit +with its lines, two things were troubling him: the one was a real, +tangible care, the other was only a perplexity. + +His own mother had lived to bring him up; and how she had cherished +and loved her unfortunate son, the only heir to the broad lands of the +St. Johns, that son's heart ached even now to think of. At the time +she died, he wished he could die also; his happiest thoughts now were +spent in her remembrance; his most comforting moments those when he +lost himself in the anticipation of the meeting that awaited them +hereafter. He was a grown-up man, getting old it almost seemed to his +lonely heart, when the little half-brother was born, the only issue of +his father's second marriage. How Isaac St. John took to this little +baby, loved it, fondled it, played with it, he might have been half +ashamed to tell in words. The boy had been his; as his own; since the +death of their father, he had been his sole care; and now that boy, +grown to manhood, was going the way of the world and bringing trouble +into his home. No very great and irremediable trouble yet: but enough +to pain and worry the sensitive heart that so loved him. + +As if to compensate for the malformation of the one brother, the other +was gifted with almost surpassing beauty. The good looks of Frederick +St. John had become a proverb in the gay world. But these favoured +sons of men are beset by temptations in an unusual degree, and perhaps +they may not be much the better for the beauty in the long-run. Had +Frederick St. John been less high-principled by nature; or been less +carefully and _prayerfully_ trained by his brother Isaac, things might +have been a great deal worse with him than they were. He had not +parted with honour, but he _had_ parted with money; a handsome +patrimony which he had succeeded to when he became of age, was +mortgaged thick and threefold, and Mr. Frederick was deep in debt and +embarrassment. + +Mr. St. John glanced towards some letters lying on his table. The +letters had brought the trouble to him. It would seem as if +Frederick's affairs had in some way come to a sudden crisis, for these +letters, three of them, had all arrived in the course of the past +week. They were ugly letters from ugly creditors asking him to pay +them; and until their reception Mr. St. John had not possessed any +knowledge of the state of affairs. He had believed Frederick to be in +the habit of getting rid of a great deal more money than he had need +to do; but he had not glanced at debt, or embarrassment. It had so +completely upset him--a little thing did that in his delicate +health--that for a day and a night he was incapable of action; he +could only nurse his pain. Then he sent answers to the parties, saying +that the matters should be examined into; and he wrote to Frederick, +who was in London, to come to him without delay. He was waiting for +him; the senses of his ears were opened now, listening for his +footsteps: he was growing anxious and weary, for Frederick might have +responded to the call on the past day. + +That was the trouble. The other care mentioned, the perplexity, +regarded his little cousin at Alnwick. He had promised George Carleton +St. John (as you may remember) to take means of ascertaining whether +Benja was well done by, happy, and cared for by his stepmother; but +now that it came to action, Isaac St. John did not quite see how he +was to set about it. Something he must do; for the promise lay on his +conscience: and he was, of all men, the most conscientious. Mr. +Carleton St. John had died in May; it was now September; and Isaac +knew little or nothing of the affairs at Alnwick. He had corresponded +a little with Mrs. Carleton St. John in the intervals of his own +illness--for he had been seriously ill twice this summer; at the time +of the death, and for some time after it, and again in July--and he +had addressed two letters to Benja, simple letters fit for a child, +and desired that that young gentleman would answer him by deputy. +Somebody had scrawled these answers, probably the nurse, or guided +Benja's fingers to do it. "He was very well, and Brave was very well, +and he thanked his gardian, Mr. Saint John, for writeing to him, and +he hopped he was very well, and he sent his love." This did not tell +Mr. St. John much: and the involuntary thought crossed him that had +Benja been her own child Mrs. St. John might herself have helped him +with the answers. + +He had therefore been making up his mind to go over to Alnwick, much +as he disliked to show himself amidst strangers. But for this news +concerning Frederick which had so troubled him, and the expected +arrival of his brother, he would have been already away; but now he +had put it off for a day or two. This was Tuesday; and he thought, if +all went well, and Frederick came today, he should go on Thursday. It +was not the loss of the money that brought care to Isaac St. John; his +coffers were deep; but the great fear that this young man, dear to him +as ever son could be to father, might be falling into evil. + +He was aroused from thought by the entrance of his attendant, Mr. +Brumm. The master of Castle Wafer looked up wistfully: he had thought +it might be another entering. + +"Will you have luncheon brought in here today, sir, or take it with +Mrs. St. John and Lady Anne?" + +"Oh, I don't know"--and the sweet voice bore its sound of weariness. +"I will take it with them today, I think, Brumm: they say I neglect +them. Is it one o'clock?" + +"Hard upon it, sir." + +Mr. St. John rose. Ah, how changed from the delicate-faced man whose +defects of form had been hidden! The hump was all too conspicuous now. + +Passing out of the room, he crossed the inner hall, so beautiful with +its soft rose-coloured hues, its tesselated pavement, and opened a +door on the other side, where luncheon was laid. Two ladies entered +almost at the same moment. The one was a tall, fine, still elegant +woman, not much older than Mr. St. John himself, though she stood to +him in the relation of stepmother; the other was an orphan daughter of +the highest branch of the St. John family, the Lady Anne: a +nice-looking girl of two or three and twenty, with dark-brown eyes and +a pointed chin. Castle Wafer belonged exclusively to Isaac St. John; +but his stepmother frequently resided at it. The utmost good-feeling +and courtesy existed between them; and Frederick, her only son, and +his half-brother, was the link that drew them together. Mrs. St. John +never stayed there in the character of visitor: Isaac would not allow +it: but as its undisputed mistress. At these times, however, he lived +a good deal in his own rooms. She had been there about a month now, +and had brought with her this young cousin, Lady Anne. It had been a +cherished project in the St. John family, that Lady Anne St. John +should become the wife of Frederick. All wished it. The relatives on +both sides wished it: they were several degrees removed from each +other in relationship, she was an heiress, he would inherit +Castle Wafer: altogether it was very suitable. But the parties +themselves--were they anxious for the tie? Ah, less was known about +that. + +Mrs. St. John gave an exclamation of pleasure, for the sight of her +stepson amidst them was somewhat rare. He shook hands with her, and +then Anne St. John came merrily up to be kissed. She was very fond of +Isaac, and he of her. Nearly the only friend he had had in life, as +these men of rare minds count friendship, had been the earl, Anne's +father. + +"Mrs. St. John," he said, as they were at table, Brumm alone being in +the room in attendance on his master, for sometimes the merest trifle +of exertion, even the lifting of a plate, the filling of a glass, was +a trouble to Isaac, "will you believe that I am contemplating a +journey?" + +"A journey! You, Isaac!" exclaimed Lady Anne. "Is it a drive round the +farm in your low carriage?" + +"It is a longer journey than that. It will take me five or six hours' +hard posting, with good roads and four good horses." + +"Oh, Isaac! How can you continue to travel post when you can take the +railway?" + +"I do not like the railway," said Isaac, quietly. + +"Well, I hope you will find relays. I thought all the old posting +horses were dead and buried." + +"I have not found any difficulty yet, Anne, Brumm sends on to secure +them." + +"But where are you going, Isaac?" asked Mrs. St. John. + +"To Alnwick. I think I ought to go," continued Isaac, speaking in his +grave, earnest, thoughtful manner. "Poor George left his boy partly in +my charge, as you know; but what with ill-health, and my propensity to +shut myself up, which gets harder to break through every year, I have +allowed too long a time to elapse without seeing him. It has begun to +lie upon my conscience: and whenever a thing does that, I can't rest +until I take steps to remedy it." + +"The little boy is in his own home with his mother," observed Mrs. St. +John. "He is sure to be all right." + +"I do not fear that he is not. I should be very much surprised to find +that he is not. But that probable fact does not remove from me the +responsibility of ascertaining it. I think I shall go on Thursday, and +return on Friday." + +"How dull we shall be without you," said Lady Anne. + +Mr. St. John smiled, and raised his soft dark eyes to hers. The +fingers of one thin hand had been wandering amidst the crumbs of his +bread, putting them into circles or squares: a habit of his when he +talked at table, though perhaps an unconscious one. He did not eat +much, and had generally finished long before others. + +"I hope, Anne, you and Mrs. St. John will have some one here by +Thursday, who will be a more effectual remedy for dulness than I could +be at my best. Mrs. St. John, I am expecting Frederick." + +"Oh!" The mother's heart leaped within her; the bright flush of +expectancy rose to her cheek; a fair and soft cheek still, for all her +fifty years. "When?" + +"I hope he will be here today. I think he may even have come by this +morning's train. I wish to see him on a little matter of business, and +have written to him to come down. Are you glad, Anne?" + +"I am more glad than I can tell you," was the warm, eager answer. "I +wish he could be here always." + +Ah, Isaac St. John, why that inward glow of satisfaction at the words? +Are you so little skilled in the signs of _love_ as not to read them +more correctly? Don't you know that if there were any love, of the +sort you have been hoping, in that fair girl's heart, she would go by +the rules of contrary, and protest that it was a matter of perfect +indifference to her whether Mr. Frederick came or not? There is no +blush on her cheek; there is no faltering in her tone: why should you +deceive yourself? + +The surmise was correct: Frederick St. John had come down by the +morning's express train. You may see him as he walks out of the +station at Lexington: it is that tall, slender, aristocratic man, with +dark hair, pale refined features, and eyes of the deepest blue. The +people at the station touch their hats to him and smile a greeting, +and he smiles and nods at them in return, kindly, genially, as if he +really thanked them for their welcome. There was neither heartlessness +nor hypocrisy in Frederick St. John: he was a true gentleman at heart. + +"Would you like a fly, sir? I don't see any carriage come down for +you." + +"No, thank you, Williams. I prefer walking such a day as this. Is Mr. +St. John well, do you happen to know?" + +"As well as usual, I think, sir," was the man's reply, who drove his +own fly. "He walked through the fields to church on Sunday. The ladies +came in the basket-carriage." + +"What a fine harvest you have had!" + +"Beautiful, sir. Couldn't be better. My little stock of corn never was +finer." + +"By the way, Williams. I had a portmanteau somewhere in the train: the +guard put it out, I suppose. You can bring it up if you like." + +"Thank you, sir." + +Frederick St. John walked on. Striking into a path on the left, he +continued his way through the fields, and came in due course to the +back of the Rectory. From thence the way was through the cultivated +grounds, the lovely gardens of Castle Wafer: the whole way being not +much more than a mile and a half. By the highway it was a good deal +longer. + +Seated under a projecting rock, a sketch-book and pencils lying beside +her, was one of the fairest girls ever seen. She was reading. Going +out to sketch, that mellow day, she had yielded to idleness (as she +often did), and was passing the time in reading, instead of working. +She was the Dean of Westerbury's niece, Sarah Beauclerc: and the dean +was wont to tell her that she should not take a book with her when she +went out to sketch. It might come to the same thing, so far as working +went, she would answer in her independence: if she did not read, she +might only sit and dream. But the dean was not at the Rectory just +now: only his wife, daughter, and niece. This young lady's home had +been with them since the death of her mother, the Lady Sarah +Beauclerc: her father was in India. + +The soft bloom mantled in Sarah Beauclerc's cheeks when she saw who +had turned the corner and was upon her. His appearance took her by +surprise: neither she nor any one else had known that he was coming. +She put down her book and was about to rise: but he laid his hand upon +her and sat down on the bench beside her. He kept her hand in his; he +saw the blushes on her cheeks; and that her eyes fell beneath the gaze +of his own. + +But the liking between them was not destined to go on to love: though +indeed on her part, and perhaps also on his, the feeling had been very +like love once. In her behaviour to him she had been a finished +coquette: _he_ set it down to caprice, to a want of real affection for +him; in reality it grew out of her love. She believed that, come what +would, he was to marry Lady Anne St. John; she believed that he +accepted the destiny, though he might not be unwilling to amuse +himself before he entered on it: and, one moment she had been gentle, +tender, yielding, in obedience to her secret love; the next she would +be cold, repelling, the very essence of scorn. This had partially +worked his cure: but in a meeting like the present, coming suddenly +upon her in all her beauty, the old feelings would rise again in his +heart. Ah! how different might things have been in this life for one +other woman, had Sarah Beauclerc only known the real state of affairs +between him and Lady Anne! + +But she still retained enough of the past feeling to be +confused--confused in manner as in mind. She put questions as to his +unexpected appearance, not hearing one syllable of the answers; and +Frederick St. John detected the secret joy, and his voice grew more +low and tender as he bent over her, and a smile, than which earth +could possess nothing sweeter, sat on his lips. Perhaps even now, had +he remained at Castle Wafer--but of what use speculating upon what +might have been? + +"I think you are glad to see me, Sarah." + +One flash of answering avowal, and then the lovely consciousness on +the face faded, the light of love died out of it; it grew hard, +satirical, half angry. That she should so have betrayed herself! She +raised her head, and looked out straight before her from the depths of +her cold light-blue eyes. + +"We are glad to see any one in this lonely desert, where the only +gentleman of degree is Mr. St. John. Not but that I would rather see +him than many others. Did you leave London this morning?" + +Frederick St. John dropped the hand and rose. + +"I shall never understand you, Sarah. Yes, I left it this morning. +Where's Georgina? She will be glad to welcome me, if you are not." + +"There's one will be glad to welcome you at Castle Wafer," she +rejoined, laughing now, but the laugh sounded cold and cheerless. +"Lady Anne has been wishing for you for some time." + +"Yes, I think she has. I must go on now. I shall see you again, no +doubt, by-and-by." + +He hastened on his way, utterly unconscious that a pair of eyes, more +lovely than those he had been gazing on, behind the grove of trees, +had been unintentional witnesses to the interview. Georgina Beauclerc +had been strolling about when she saw his approach through the trees. +She was the dean's daughter--a lithe, active girl of middle height +with a pleasing, piquant, rather saucy face, these wide-open grey-blue +eyes, light-brown hair, and a healthy blood mantling under the +sunburnt skin of the dimpled cheeks--a daring, wild, independent young +lady, but one all truth and ingenuousness; and that is saying a very +great deal in these days of most detestable artificially. Georgina had +no end of faults, but Dr. Beauclerc knew her heart, and he would not +have exchanged his daughter for any girl in the world. + +She, Georgina Beauclerc, had looked on from between the trees, all her +veins throbbing, her pulses beating. A stronger, a purer, a more +enduring love never made glad the heart of woman, than this one that +filled Georgina Beauclerc's for Frederick St. John. To hear his step +was rapture; to touch his hand was as a ray of that unforgiven fire +"filched for us from heaven;" to see him thus unexpectedly was as if +the whole earth had become suddenly flooded with a brilliant, +rose-coloured light. But, even as she watched that other meeting with +her cousin, the sharp pain--often enough felt there before--seized her +heart, the loving light faded from her face, and her lips paled with +anguish. Of keen, discerning faculties, _she_ had seen all along that +it was not from Lady Anne danger was to be feared, but from Sarah +herself. A faint, low cry, as of a bird in pain, escaped her as she +watched the meeting, and drank in its signs. + +Did anything in the world ever run so crookedly as _this_ course of +love? Every one--uncles, aunts, guardians--wanted Frederick St. John +to wed Lady Anne. Frederick did not want to marry her at all; did not +intend to marry her; and she, on her part, hoped to marry some one +else. But that was a secret not yet to be breathed to the world; +Frederick alone shared it; and if things came to a crisis he intended +to take on himself the whole onus of declining the match, and so spare +Anne. They understood each other perfectly; and that is more than can +be said for any other two actors in our story. Nothing so very crooked +there, you will say; but look a little further. Georgina loved +Frederick St. John with her whole heart; and he never gave a thought +to her. He must have known of her love; there had been things to +reveal it to him--trifles in the past; but he passed her by, and felt +all too inclined to give his love to her cousin. She, Sarah, could +have made him her heart's resting-place, ah! how willingly! but her +head was filled ever with Lady Anne, and she met his incipient love +with scorn. It was curing him, as I have told you; but if the whole +truth could have been laid bare, the lives of some of them would have +been widely different. + +Georgina was obliged to come forth from her hiding-place, for his path +lay through the shrubbery, and he must have seen her. Her colour went +and came fitfully as she held out her hand; her bosom heaved beneath +the thin summer dress, a flowing robe of muslin, adorned with blue +ribbons. Her large straw hat was hanging from her arm; and she began +to talk freely and wildly--anything to cover her agitation. Their +intercourse was familiar as that of brother and sister, for they had +been intimate from childhood. + +"Well, Georgie! In the wars as usual, I see, amidst the brambles." + +He pointed to her robe, and she caught it up; a long bramble was +trailing to it. + +"It is your fault, sir. Hearing a strange voice, I came through the +thorns to see who might be the intruder. What a strange, flighty way +you have got into! Coming down by fits and starts, when no one expects +you! We heard you were off to Finland, or some other of those +agreeable spots. You'll frighten Castle Wafer into fits." + +"Wrong, young lady. Castle Wafer sent for me." + +"That's one of your stories," politely returned Georgina. "I was at +Castle Wafer after breakfast this morning, and Mrs. St. John was +regretting that you did not come down this autumn; some one else also, +I think, though she did not say it." + +He looked down at her as she spoke. There were times when he thought +she divined the truth as regarded himself and Lady Anne St. John. + +"_I_ wonder," she continued, "that you have kept away so long." + +"How is the dean?" + +"He is not here--only mamma. Tell me; what has brought you down?" + +"I have told you. I was sent for." + +"By----" + +"Isaac. You are as curious as ever, Georgina. But now, can you tell me +_why_ I am sent for; for that is a puzzle to me. I fear----" + +He stopped suddenly. Miss Beauclerc raised her eyes to his face. There +was a shade of uneasiness in his tones, as if he were ill at ease. + +"I know nothing about it," she answered, earnestly. "I did not even +know you were sent for. I would tell you if I did know." + +He nodded an acknowledgment, courteously enough, but very +abstractedly, as if he thought little of Georgina or of anything she +could tell him, and walked on alone, never once looking back. She +leaned her forehead against a tree, and gazed after him; her wild love +shining forth from her yearning blue eyes; her whole heart longing to +call after him ere he should be quite beyond view, and the day's +sunshine have gone out in darkness: "Oh, stay with me, my love! stay +with me!" + +He went on to the house, straight into the presence of Isaac, who was +then in his own room, and learnt why he had been summoned. That his +embarrassments would, of necessity, become known to his brother some +time, he had entertained no shadow of doubt; but he was one of those +high-bred, honourable men who look upon debt as little less than +crime; and now that the moment had come, it brought him terrible +mortification. + +"I have no excuse to offer," he said. "But do not think worse of me +than you can help. Not one shilling of it has gone in dishonour." + +That he spoke the truth Isaac knew, and his heart went out to him--him +whom he had ever loved as a son. + +"I will set you straight, only be more cautious in future," he said, +never speaking, in his generosity, one word of reproach. "And, +Frederick, this had better be kept from your mother. It would pain +her, and perhaps alarm Anne. Don't you think it is time you married? +There's nothing to wait for. I'm sure---- I fancy at least--that Anne +is ready." + +And Frederick St. John, bound by a promise to Lady Anne, did not speak +out openly, as he might have done, but evaded the question. + + +On the following Thursday, in the long, low room at the Rectory, its +windows opening to the lawn, sat Sarah Beauclerc, practising a piece +of difficult music. She and her cousin were contrasts. The one, cold, +calm, calculating, did things by rule; the other did all by impulse, +and could not be cold if she tried. Sarah was the least in the world +artificial; Georgina was too natural. + +Mrs. Beauclerc, thin and discontented-looking as of yore, the red tip +of her nose growing redder year by year, sat at the French window of +the room, talking to Georgina. Georgina, in a clear pink muslin dress, +with open lace sleeves on her pretty wrists, stood just outside the +window. She was partly listening to her mother,--as much as she ever +did listen to Mrs. Beauclerc's grumblings,--partly humming to herself +the piece that Sarah was playing, as her eyes wandered wistfully, far +far out in the distance, seeking one who did not come. + +"What are you looking at?" Mrs. Beauclerc suddenly asked in sharp +tones. "You never pay attention to me, Georgina." + +"I thought--I thought--" and though the answer was given with +hesitation, she spoke the straightforward truth--"I thought I saw +Frederick St. John. Some one was there, but he has turned away again, +whoever it was. What do you want to say, mamma?" + +"Mrs. St. John and Anne partly promised to come in and dine with us, +_sans cérémonie_, this evening. I want you to go and ask them whether +they are really coming." + +She stepped gaily over the threshold into the room, all her inertness +gone. The short secluded walk through the private grounds would be +charming enough on that warm autumn day; but had it been one of stones +and brambles, Georgina had deemed it Eden, with the prospect of _his_ +presence at the end of it. She halted for a moment to ask a question; +to ask it indifferently, as if it were of no moment to her, and she +tossed her handkerchief carelessly about as she spoke it. + +"Is Frederick to come with them?" + +"Dear me, Georgina! _Is_ he to come! He can come if he likes." + +Absorbed in her music, Sarah Beauclerc had heard nothing of this. +Georgina came in again with her bonnet on. "Sarah, I am going up to +Castle Wafer. Will you come?" + +The light of assent shone all too eagerly for a moment in Sarah's +eyes; but she recollected her resolution--to _forget_--and declined. + +"Not this morning." + +"Very well," said Georgina. "Don't say I didn't ask you. You said so +once before, if you remember, Sarah, and a great passion you were in." + +Sarah Beauclerc's lip curled. "I don't think I was ever in a passion +in my life. It is only the uncontrolled, the ill-regulated, who so +forget themselves." + +"I would rather go into a good hearty passion and get it over, than be +cold as an icicle. What a passion I once put Fred St. John into!" +added Georgina, half losing herself in the remembrance. "_He_ can be +passionate, if you like!" + +"I don't believe it." + +"_Dis_-believe it, then," equably returned Georgina. "I have seen him +in more rages than one. It's not a thing to forget, I can tell you. He +is sweet-tempered in ordinary life; ay, very; but on rare occasions he +can be roused. Ask Mrs. St. John; ask Anne." + +She stepped out from the window, nodding to Mrs. Beauclerc, who was +now at a distance bending over her favourite flowerbed, and pursued +her walk. + +Suddenly a butterfly crossed her path; she was then getting near to +Castle Wafer. It was one of those beautiful insects, its wings purple +and gold; and Georgina, no better than a butterfly herself and +variable as one, began to give chase to it. In turning suddenly the +corner of a hedge of variegated evergreens, she came upon a stranger. + +Springing back as one startled, her heart beat a shade quicker. Not +that there was anything particularly to startle her, except that he +was unknown, and that he stood in a stealthy attitude. He wore a +rather remarkable hat, inasmuch as its crown was higher than those of +ordinary hats and went tapering off in sugar-loaf fashion; his clothes +were shabby-genteel. Altogether he put Georgina in mind of the +portrait of Mephistopheles, as represented on the cover of one of her +pieces of music. + +He had been bending forward, peering through the trees at Castle +Wafer; the position he held commanded full view of the front of the +house. But he appeared equally startled with Miss Beauclerc, at being +interrupted, glided away, and was lost to view. + +"What a strange-looking man!" exclaimed Georgina. "And what was he +doing there? Perhaps wanting to take a photograph of Castle Wafer! +_That_ tall hat must have been the one I saw from our house." + +She emerged from the sheltered path, crossed the lawn, stepped over +the terrace, and into the drawing-room. The families were too intimate +to stand on any sort of ceremony with each other, and as frequently +entered each other's houses in this manner as by the more formal +doorway. The room was empty, but almost immediately Frederick St. John +came into it. + +His eye fell upon her for a moment only, and she caught the +half-wistful, half-eager glance that went roaming round in search of +another. + +"Are you alone?" he asked, as he shook hands with her. + +"Sarah is not with me," was the petulant answer. It was utterly +impossible to Georgina Beauclerc not to betray her moods: and none but +herself knew how cruel was the pain ever rankling in her heart. "But I +did not come to pay a visit to you," she went on pointedly. "Where's +Mr. St. John?" + +"He has gone out, and will not be back until tomorrow." + +She had only asked the question in that listless fashion that requires +no answer. The answer, however, aroused her surprise. Isaac St. John +gone out until tomorrow! + +"He left this morning for Alnwick," said Frederick. "He has gone to +see his little ward, Benja St. John. A long journey, for he is +posting. Did you want him, Georgina?" + +"No; I came to see Mrs. St. John. Mamma supposes she and Anne remember +their engagement to come in this afternoon and remain to dinner. Will +you come also?" + +"Is it a dinner-party? + +"A dinner-party here! Don't expect that. You may find nothing but +mutton," she added, with a laugh. "It's ourselves only. Will you +come?" + +"I think not, Georgie. Perhaps, though: I'll see between now and +dinner-time." + +He stepped out without further word or look. Ah, it needed not his +coldness of manner to convince Georgina Beauclerc how utterly +indifferent she was to him! Lady Anne came in, and she began laughing +and talking as though there were not such a thing as misplaced love in +the world. In a few minutes Georgina left again, bearing Mrs. St. +John's message of acceptance of the invitation. As she was walking +leisurely along she caught sight of Frederick in the distance. He was +standing still, apparently examining something in his hand. Georgina's +quick thought wondered whether it was the beautiful butterfly of +purple and gold. Suddenly, in this same moment, as she looked, she saw +the strange man go rather swiftly up to him and touch him on the +shoulder. + +She saw Frederick St. John wheel round; she saw him fling the man's +arm off with a haughty gesture. And after a few minutes' parleying, +during which the man showed him a paper--minutes of hesitation as it +seemed, for Mr. St. John looked about him as a man uncertain of his +course--they finally walked away together. Georgina went home +wondering. + +Mrs. St. John and Lady Anne came in about four o'clock, bringing their +work with them. Lady Anne was making a collection of ferns, and she +began doing something to a dried leaf with water and a sponge. Mrs. +St. John and Mrs. Beauclerc were each knitting a soft woollen +counterpane of divers colours, and began comparing progress. + +"Where's Frederick?" asked Mrs. Beauclerc. "Is he not coming?" + +"I don't know where he is," cried Mrs. St. John, in quick tones and +looking up, as though the question recalled something to her +recollection. "We have seen nothing of him since the morning, and just +now I received a pencilled note from him, saying he might not be in +until tonight, or perhaps not at all, if he found his business +detained him very late." + +"Has he gone to Lexington?" + +"We don't know where he has gone. But it is very strange he should go +out for any length of time, without mentioning it to me. The note was +not dated, and the servants said a strange boy brought it. So very +thoughtless of Frederick, to go out in this flighty manner! Anne was +dreaming of him this afternoon." + +"Dreaming of him!" repeated Mrs. Beauclerc. + +Lady Anne laughed. "Mrs. St. John insisted at the time that I was +dreaming," she said. "We drove out in the pony-carriage after +luncheon, and on passing the Barley Mow, I could have declared that I +saw Frederick at one of the upper windows. But when we drew closer he +had turned into a strange man in a tall hat. I suppose I must have +been thinking of him, and so fancied it: or else the sun, which was +full in my face, caused the mistake. Georgina, what is the matter?" + +It was time to ask. Georgina Beauclerc was standing as one transfixed. +She was as clever a girl at putting two and two together as could well +be found; and the whole mystery seemed to suddenly clear itself. Very +rapidly she drew her conclusions: Frederick St. John had been arrested +for debt, and the man was keeping him prisoner at the Barley Mow! + +A mist gathered before her sight: her heart sank within her. Georgina +had long known that he was in some temporary embarrassment; it came to +her knowledge through an incautious word of his own; and she had +cherished the knowledge as a secret link between them. But she had not +suspected _this_, and it came upon her with a crushing fear. + +She burst into laughter, for the question of Lady Anne recalled her to +herself, making some evasive excuse. She would have died rather than +betray him. + +"I know," she said. "He has gone over to Lexington to avoid dining +with so many women. You could not expect him to stay for us, Mrs. St. +John." + +"Very true, my dear; the same thought had occurred to me," was the +satisfied answer. "But I don't see why he should hint at not coming +home to sleep." + +"There may be a thousand things to detain him," said Georgina, +throwing back her pretty head, as if to cool the fever crimsoning her +cheeks. "And who knows but he may have gone on to Sir John Ingram's? I +made him so mad one day last year, teasing him about that gawky Jane +Ingram! Mamma nearly boxed my ears for it." + +Watching her opportunity, Georgina stole away, snatched her hat and a +garden mantle from the peg in the hall, and went out. Where was she +going, this wild girl? Need you ask? In her impulsive, free, careless +fashion, she was hastening to the Barley Mow, to see Frederick St. +John. + +It sounds very bad, no doubt to the reader's ears. The name of the +"Barley Mow" itself would be enough to alarm modest people, without +the gentleman. But in this quiet little spot, the Barley Mow was as +sedate and respectable a house to enter as any private one; and +Georgina had many a time gone into it with Dr. Beauclerc to sit ten +minutes with one of its daughters, who had been an invalid for years. + +She went flying onwards, and gained the door in a few minutes. The +landlord, a respectable, simple old yeoman, in a yellow waistcoat and +top-boots, who was a farmer as well as an innkeeper, met her at the +entrance. + +"Mary ain't quite so well, miss," he began, more hastily than he was +in the habit of speaking. "She's lying down. I'm afeared I can't ask +you to go up this afternoon." + +"I have not come to see her," returned Georgina, ignoring ceremony. +"Is Mr. Frederick St. John here?" + +The man seemed taken back. He might not admit it; he could not +conscientiously deny it; and he only stared by way of answer. + +"I know he is here," said Georgina, "You need not hesitate." + +"Well, miss, he is here, and that's the truth. But I mightn't say it." + +"I want to see him," she continued, walking into the family parlour, +then vacant. "Ask him to come to me." + +It appeared that he could not come without his attendant in the +curious hat, for when Mr. St. John, who came down immediately, entered +the room, that gentleman's hat and head appeared over his shoulder. +Very haughtily Mr. St. John waved him off, and closed the door to shut +him out. + +"Georgina, what brings you here?" + +"How did it happen?" she asked eagerly. "Are you really arrested?" + +"Really and truly," he said, speaking in a tone of hauteur that +perhaps veiled a feeling of bitter mortification. "The marvel does not +lie in that, but in how you came to know of it." + +"I guessed it," said Georgina. + +"_Guessed_ it!" + +She quietly told him the whole from the beginning: her meeting with +the man in the morning, the news Mrs. St. John brought about the note, +the fancied view of Lady Anne. + +"The truth seemed to come over me in a moment," she concluded. "I knew +you were arrested; I was sure it was nothing else. And I ran all the +way here to ask if I can do anything for you. I saw by the note that +you dare not tell Mrs. St. John." + +"Dare is not quite the word, Georgina. If I can spare her I will do +so, for I know it would grieve her cruelly. The affair would not have +been the trouble of a quarter-of-an-hour, but for Isaac's being away. +Things always do happen by contraries." + +"You think he would--he would--what could he have done?" she asked, +her anxious face and its earnest eyes turned up to him. + +"He would have paid the claim and set me free. As it is, nothing can +be done until he comes home tomorrow." + +"How much is the claim?" + +Frederick St. John drew in his lips. "It is amidst the hundreds. Nay, +how scared you look! It was a clever trick, their sending the fellow +down here after me." + +"Who is he?" asked Georgina, lowering her voice, with an instinctive +conviction that the individual in question was rather near the outside +of the door. + +"He's nobody," was the reply. "But, nevertheless, he is master of me +just now, by virtue of the law. He considers himself a model of +consideration and benevolence, and will expect me to acknowledge it +substantially: otherwise he would have taken me off pretty quickly." + +"Where to?" + +"To--it is an ugly word, Georgina--prison." + +"Oh! But you will stop that, won't you?" + +"Isaac will. The annoying part of the business is, that he should be +away just this day of all days. It is rather singular, too, +considering that he is at home from year's end to year's end. There's +no help for it, however, and here I must stop until he does return, +hiding myself like a mouse, lest I should be seen, and the news +carried to my mother." + +"Can't I help you?--can't I do anything for you?" + +"Thank you always, Georgina. You are a good little girl, after all. +No, nothing." + +She pouted her pretty lips. + +"Except keep the secret. And go home again as soon as possible. What +would your mamma say if she knew you had come?" he asked. + +"Scold me for a week. Will Mr. St. John be home early tomorrow?" + +"I wish I knew. Any time, I suppose, from midday up to night. We must +set some one to watch for him. He is posting, and therefore goes and +comes the upper road, not passing here. I dare not send a note to +Castle Wafer to await his arrival, for my mother, seeing my +handwriting, would inevitably open it; neither can I entrust the +matter to any of the servants to inform their master: they might make +a mystery of it, and so bring it in that way to the ears of my mother. +Besides, to tell the truth, I don't care that the servants should know +of it. Brumm alone would be safe, and he is with his master." + +"Entrust it to me," said Georgina, eagerly. "Let me manage it for you. +I will take care to tell Mr. St. John the moment of his arrival. If I +can't see him, I'll tell Brumm." + +Mr. St. John paused a minute. The proposal certainly solved a +difficulty. + +"But I don't like you to do this, Georgina," he said, following out +his thoughts. + +"I _will_ do it," she answered, the colour mantling to her cheeks. +"You can't prevent me now." + +He smiled at her eagerness; he saw how pleasant it was to her to serve +him. She laid her hand on the door to depart. + +"Be it so, Georgina. I shall call you henceforth my friend in need." + +She opened the door quickly. On the opposite side of the narrow +passage, his back propped against the wall, a cautious sentinel, stood +the man. Mr. St. John saw him, closed his lips on what he was about to +say, and motioned her into the room again. + +"You will not speak of this misfortune, Georgina, at your own house? +Is it known there?" he continued, a sudden fear betraying itself in +his voice. "Does Sarah know of it?" + +"And if she did," retorted Georgina, the old pain seizing upon her +heart again, "she does not know of it from me." + +Throwing back the door, she went straight out of the house, running +all the way home lest she should be missed, her brain busy with the +one thought. + +"Sarah, Sarah! It is all he cares for in life!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII. +THE FAIR AT ALNWICK. + + +In the long, straggling street, which chiefly comprised the village of +Alnwick, there was a break in the houses on the left-hand side. This +was filled up by the common, or waste land; it belonged to the lord of +the manor, and no one might build upon it. It was a wide, untidy piece +of ground, branching off into far-away corners and dells, which did +very well for harbouring trampers and gipsies. Once a year, for three +days in September, this common was delivered over to all the bustle +and confusion of a fair. Shows and booths, containing (if you could +believe them) the wonders of the world, living and dead; caravans; +drinking-tents; stalls for fruit, gingerbread, and penny trumpets; and +here shoals of pleasure-seekers reigned in triumph during those three +days. Sober shopkeepers, driven half wild with opposition drums and +horns, talked a great deal about "getting the nuisance done away +with;" but the populace generally believed that no man living could +put the threat into execution, except the lord of the manor: and _he_ +could only do it by refusing the use of the ground. However that may +have been, the ground had not been refused yet, and the populace was +triumphant. + +It was a bright September day, and the fair was in full glory; as far +as was consistent with the comparative quiet and respectability of the +first day. Things on that day were ordered with a due regard to +decorum: the music was kept within bounds, the bawling showmen were +subdued and persuasive, the ladies' dresses and dancing were gentility +itself. For on this first day the better families around would send +their children to the fair (some had been known to go to it +themselves), and ladies'-maids and butlers congregated there in great +force. The second and third days were given over to what these +domestics called the riff-raff. + +The fair was in its full radiance on this fine September day. Drums +were beating, fifes were playing, pantaloons were shouting, ladies +were dancing, and rival showmen in scarlet and gold tunics were +shouting out their seductive attractions, when two respectable-looking +maid-servants, each in charge of a little boy, might have been +observed in the street, about to enter the enchanted regions. The +children were attired in black velvet, trimmed with crape, and their +straw hats had black ribbon round them. The younger, a lovely child +with a bright complexion and a mass of fair curls, looked nearly three +years old; the other was nearly five; not a pretty child, but his +countenance one of noble intelligence. An insignificant little fellow +enough in years and stature, this elder one; no one to look at: and +yet a great many people touched their hats to him, child though he +was, and that very fair was being held upon his own land; for he was +lord of the manor, and inheritor of Alnwick. + +Benja and George had been wild to set off to it. Indeed, for a week +beforehand, from the raising of the first plank for the booths, it +could hardly be said that either servants or children for miles round +were in their sedate senses. Prance, however, was an exception. Prance +seemed to have no affinity with fairs; and she had drawn in her thin +lips in withering contempt at Honour's open longing for it. There was +no more cordiality between the two servants than there used to be, and +a sharp quarrel would occur now and again, in which Honour, as far as +words went, had the best of it. Honour was free-spoken; there was no +denying it. This fair had caused a desperate quarrel that same +morning. Honour said everything she could to enhance its glories to +the children; Prance contradicted every word, and protested it was not +a fit place to take them to. + +Mrs. Carleton St. John favoured Honour in the matter, told Prance she +would not deprive the children of the shows for anything, and finally +ordered her to be quiet. George took his nurse's part, and said Honour +was a "nasty beast." Benja retaliated that Prance was, and George +struck him. Mrs. Carleton St. John for once reproved George, and +kissed and soothed Benja. It was a curious thing, not noticed at the +time, but recalled by Honour in the future, that this little +graciousness on the part of her mistress, this displayed affection for +Benja, should have occurred on the day afterwards characterized by the +unexpected visit of Mr. Isaac St. John. "As if it had been on +purpose!" Honour was wont to repeat to herself with a groan. However, +all this partisanship for herself and Benja only put her into a good +humour at the time; she could not see the future; and when they +started, after an early dinner, Honour was in a state of great +delight, satisfied with everything and every one. + +Excepting, perhaps, with Prance. Prance showed no signs whatever of +her discomfiture, but followed to the fair with George, impassive and +silent as ever. As they were entering the bustle, and the little legs +already began to dance to the drums, and the charmed eyes caught the +first glimpse of the spangles and all the other enchantments, a dusty +travelling carriage-and-four came bowling down the street, and stopped +at the Bell Inn, which was situated opposite to the common. Such +travelling equipages had become sufficiently rare to be almost a +curiosity in the county, and both the maids turned to stare, utterly +unsuspicious that it contained one who, as guardian, had all power +over the heir of Alnwick. + +The first show they entered (on the principle of keeping the best to +the last) was a very sober sort of affair, and purporting to be "An +Emporium of Foreign Curiosities." The admission was threepence, the +trumpet was loud, and the showman was magnificent both in person and +persuasion. + +"I shall go into this," said Honour. "I should think _you_ needn't be +afraid of what you'd see inside," she added to Prance in tones, it +must be confessed, of aggravation. "There's no dancing here." + +Prance's only answer was to draw down the corners of her thin lips and +walk off with George to a leviathan booth whose company were executing +a complicated quadrille before it. Honour paid her threepence, +disputed with the money-taker about admitting Benja for +three-halfpence, that functionary protesting that there was no +half-price for gentlemen's children, and went into the show. + +Like many other shows, its interior did not realize the outward +promise. There was a crocodile in stone, and a few more dead wonders, +which Honour turned up her nose at, saying something about demanding +back her money: but Benja's attention had become riveted by the pretty +model of a church rising from the midst of green moss. It was white, +and its coloured windows were ingeniously shown up by means of a light +placed within it. It really was a pretty and conspicuous article in +the dark booth, and Benja could not be moved from it. How little did +Honour think that that sight was to exercise so terrible an influence +on the unconscious child! + +"Come along," she said, rather impatiently. "I could make you as good +a one any day, Benja." + +"How could you make it?" promptly asked Benja. + +"With white paper and thin strips of wood for the frame. Master Benja, +then! we shall have Prance going home and telling your mamma that we +lost her on purpose. She's as deceitful as yonder crocodile." + +"Couldn't you buy it for me, Honour?" returned Benja, not stirring a +peg. + +"Of course I couldn't," answered Honour. "What a little simpleton you +must be, to ask it! The things here are not for sale; the folks get +their living by showing them. And a fine set of worthless rubbish it +is! Once for all, are you coming, Master St. John?" + +"Will you promise to make me one?" persisted Benja. + +"Yes, I will. There!" + +"When?" + +"As soon as I can get the things together. Now come." + +Benja reluctantly moved away; but his head and eyes were turned for +the last glance, up to the moment when Honour pulled him through the +low green-baize opening. + +Meanwhile Mrs. Carleton St. John was sitting alone. She was of +remarkably quiet habits by inclination, a great stay-at-home, rarely +seeking society or amusement abroad; and the still recent death of her +husband tended to keep the Hall pretty free from idle visitors. One +sole passion seemed to absorb her whole life, to the exclusion of +every other; it filled every crevice of her heart, it regulated her +movements, it buried even her natural grief for her husband--and this +was love for her child. The word love most inadequately expresses the +feeling: it was a passion, threatening to consume every healthy +impulse. She was quite aware of it: indeed, her conscience did not +allow her to be otherwise. + +One thought was ever present to her; it may be said that it had never +left her mind since the day her husband died: that Benja was chief of +Alnwick Hall, with all its wealth and dignity; that she, Charlotte St. +John, so arrogant by nature, was there only on sufferance, a home +accorded to her as his personal guardian; and that George was as +nobody. They were as a sharp thorn, these reflections, ever piercing +her. They ate into her ill-regulated heart and rankled there. And they +went on to another thought, an unwholesome thought, which would have +been a wicked thought but that it was not there of her own will: a +thought that carried danger in its train. In the first waking of early +morning, in the fevered dreams of midnight solitude, in the glare and +bustle of noonday, it was ever thrusting itself forward--if Benja were +to die, her child would be the inheritor. + +Was she aware of its danger? No. And yet she was fond of tracing it +back to its original source--the accident to Benja. When the boy was +taken out of the water, drowned as was supposed, and a some one +called out, the wild beating of Mrs. St. John's bosom--_not with +sorrow_--called into life the thought that had certainly never existed +there before, or else had lain dormant. + +Her increasing dislike of Benja should have acted as a warning to her. +It was generated by the false view she took of the existing state of +things: that Benja was a sort of ogre, whose sole mission on earth was +to stand in the light of her child and deprive him of what might have +been his birthright. She strove against this dislike--it might be +better to call it hatred, for it had grown into that--and she had to +exercise a constant check upon herself in her behaviour towards him. +None but she knew what it cost her to treat Benja with a semblance of +love, or to make no very apparent difference between the children. She +did strive against it--let us do her justice!--not from any suspicion +of danger, but from her own sense of equity. That very morning, in +taking Benja's part and kissing him, she had acted from an impulse of +good principle, an endeavour to do right. But no sooner were the +children out of her sight, than the old bad feelings got the better of +her, and she sat indulging all sorts of foolish dreams and visions of +what she would do were Alnwick George's instead of Benja's. Will you +believe that she had fallen into the habit of repeating their +Christian names to herself, with the prospective title before them? +"Sir Benjamin St. John," "Sir George St. John;" and she thought the +one (you need not ask which of the two) sounded a thousand times more +charming than the other. + +Though very conscious of all this, she yet detected no danger in it. +The night of her husband's death, she made a resolve to do her duty by +her little stepson; and when the codicil to the will was read, giving +Mr. St. John of Castle Wafer the power to remove him from her, she +resented it bitterly as a mark of want of confidence in her shown by +her husband. No woman could have been more willing in intention to do +right by a stepson than Charlotte St. John. If only her strength of +will did not fail her, she might succeed. One result of the desire to +carry out her resolve, was retaining Honour in her service. She very +much disliked the girl, for her strong attachment to Benja in +contradistinction to George, and her always taking his part against +that rather capricious younger gentleman; but she would not discharge +her. To this desire to do her duty, rather than because her husband in +dying had expressed a wish that Honour should be retained about Benja, +the girl owed the fact that she was still in her place. Honour alone +of the servants, save and except perhaps Prance, had detected all +along the second Mrs. St. John's dislike to her little charge. She was +aware, as surely as though she had seen it recorded, that her mistress +regarded George as he who ought to be the heir, Benja as a usurper; +and it aroused within her a feeling of indignation, which sometimes +peeped out in her manner. Not sufficiently so for Mrs. St. John openly +to find fault with; and she only thought the girl quick in temper. And +now I think I have said as much as I can say about the state of mind +of Mrs. Carleton St. John. She deliberately intended to do right: but +passion and prejudice are strong; unusually strong were they in her; +and her mind was undisciplined and ill-regulated. + +As she sat there today, the approach of a vehicle in the avenue +attracted her attention. She soon saw that it was a fly from the Bell +Inn, and all her motherly fears were at once up in arms, lest any +accident had happened to Georgy, and he was being brought home, or she +fetched to him. But it seemed to contain only one gentleman; and he a +stranger; a delicate-looking man, who sat low in the fly. + +Not for a long time had she been so surprised as when the card was +brought to her, and she found that her visitor was Mr. St. John of +Castle Wafer. Had he come to remove Benja? The thought awoke a +momentary affection for the child in her heart, and called up a +resentful flush to her cheeks. But resentment faded away as Isaac came +in, and held out his hand to her in his open courtesy. She saw she had +nothing underhand to fear from him. + +What was perhaps more agreeable to her, as it is to all vain +women--and Charlotte St. John was one of them--was the look of honest +admiration that shone out of Isaac's face and manner. She presented a +picture deeply interesting--in her young widowhood, in her beauty, in +her manner so quiet and subdued. She burst into tears as they talked +of her husband, of Benja; and she told Mr. St. John that if he removed +Benja from her it would break her heart. + +It was only a figure of speech. And it is very probable that the fact +of two thousand a-year of her income being in peril, may have swayed +her to earnestness more than any other feeling. Mr. St. John took it +all for loving earnestness, and assured her he thought no cause would +ever be likely to arise for his removing Benja. In point of fact, +Isaac St. John was most warmly impressed in her favour; it was almost +as if she had fascinated him. + +"Will you answer me a question?" asked Mrs. St. John. "I cannot get it +solved by any one else. Why did my husband leave this power in your +hands? Did he doubt me?" + +"I do not know why he left it," was the answer of Mr. St. John: +"unless he thought that you might be too kind to the boy--might +indulge him to his detriment. I remember, too, his saying that you +were not very strong, and the charge of the two children might be a +tax upon you." + +She did not answer. She began to speak of more general things, and +Isaac St. John sat talking with her for some time. She expressed her +regret that Benja should happen to be at the fair, and laughed when +Mr. St. John spoke of the noise that had assailed his ears from the +drums. She pressed him to take up his quarters at the Hall until the +morrow, but this he declined; he was only an invalid at best, he said. +He had engaged rooms at the Bell for himself and his servant, and he +invited Benja to come and breakfast with him on the following morning. +Mrs. St. John readily assented to the invitation. + +"You will allow his nurse to attend him," he said to her, as he rose +to leave. "I should like to see and converse with the attendant of my +little ward, and offer her a gratuity as an earnest of my favour." + +As readily as the other request was this acceded to, and Mr. St. John +departed, taking final leave of his cousin's widow--for he intended to +leave Alnwick soon after breakfast the following morning. + +The fly had conveyed him almost through the park on his return to the +Bell, when he saw two women-servants, in charge of two children. +Rightly guessing who they were, he stopped the fly, opened the door, +and talked to them from his seat. + +A noble boy, his ward, with an open, intelligent countenance; a pretty +little toy-boy the other, with his bright face, his fair curls, and +his indulged petulance peeping out even then. The children were at +home with him at once, showing him the fairings they carried--one a +child's kaleidoscope, the other a drum. Benja told him some +unintelligible story of a "church" Honour was going to make for him; +Georgy sounded the rataplan on his drum. He inquired of Honour whether +she was the nurse mentioned to him by her late master, who had been +with the child from his birth. Upon her saying she was, he told her +she was to be at the Bell with Master St. John the next morning at +nine o'clock; he handed a sovereign to Prance; he won the boys' hearts +by a promise of a whole cargo of fairings to be sent up that evening; +and then he drove on. Not one of them had noticed his hump; but they +thought what a little low gentleman he was in stature. + +Benja had taken home a fairing for his mamma--a blue-and-white +smelling-bottle, flat as a half-crown, with a narrow neck in which was +a little cork as stopper. It had cost threepence, and he kissed her as +he gave it to her. George's fairing to his mamma had been a Banbury +cake, but he had unfortunately eaten it on his way home. Whether the +contrast touched her, or that with Mr. St. John in the vicinity she +did not choose to be otherwise than loving, certain it was that she +kissed Benja heartily in return, praised his present as she put it +into her waistband, and told Georgy he was a selfish little fellow. +How gratified Honour was, and how, in manner, she crowed over Prance, +Prance would not condescend to observe. Mrs. St. John was all +graciousness, bade Honour make Master Benja very nice indeed for the +following morning, and said the pony-carriage should take them down. + +The appointment was kept. Benja was treated to jam and other good +things as he sat at breakfast with Mr. St. John--Brumm and Honour +waiting on them. Afterwards, when the cloth was removed, Mr. Brumm had +orders to take Master St. John to the fair and show him the elephant, +or anything else Mr. Brumm might deem expedient; and Honour was +requested to take a seat while Mr. St. John talked to her. + +He really saw no means of ascertaining whether Benja was well done by +at the Hall, excepting this--the putting a direct question to the +nurse. After what he had seen of the Hall's mistress the previous day, +he would as soon suspect himself of being ill treated, as any child +over whom she had control. Still it was as well to make sure upon the +point. + +Honour answered his questions as straightforwardly as she could. But, +it should be remarked, that in her present mood of graciousness +towards her mistress (or it should perhaps rather be said of that +lady's graciousness to her), she spoke more favourably of Mrs. St. +John than she would have done at almost any previous time. She was not +indulgent to Master Benja; but on the other hand she was not generally +unkind to him, was the substance of her answer. + +This rather surprised Mr. St. John. "I should have thought her in +danger of being too kind," he said. + +Honour shook her head. "Mrs. St. John is too kind by a great deal to +her own child, sir; she indulges him dreadfully; but there's no fear +that she will ever do that by Master Benja." + +"I suppose you do not mean to say that Mrs. St. John is unkind to +him?" returned Mr. St. John, rather at a loss how to frame his words +with a due regard to what was due to the dignity of that lady, when +speaking of her to her servant. + +"Well, no, sir, I can't say that she is unkind. She treats the two +very much alike, only that she is always kissing and clasping the +little one, and has him so much more with her. She boxed Master +Benja's ears the other day and made him cry. For no fault, either, +that I could find out." + +Mr. St. John smiled. "A little wholesome correction is good for boys, +you know." + +"I'm not saying that it isn't, sir. Altogether, things have gone on +much more comfortably since my master's death than I used to fancy +they would. There's not much to complain of." + +"On the whole, then, you cannot see cause for any interference on my +part? You see no reason why Master St. John should not remain at the +Hall under his stepmother's charge?" + +"No, sir; I cannot say that I do. And of course I am always with him, +and can take care of him there as well as I could anywhere else. I +shall never let harm come nigh him from any one." + +It was conclusive, and Mr. St. John intimated that the conference was +over. + +"You see, I speak to you as the confidential attendant of the child," +he said. "You were named to me by your late master as one in whom +every confidence might be placed. Do me the favour to regard what I +have said as between ourselves, in the interest of this little orphan. +And always remember, that in case of any emergency arising, where +any--any counsel, or advice, or interference on my part should be +desirable, a letter will find me at Castle Wafer. I shall come over +from time to time--not often, for my health does not permit it; and I +shall hope to have a letter frequently from the little boy." + +He pressed a very handsome present into her hand as he concluded, +saying it was in recompense of her trouble and attention to the child. +Honour's eyes filled with tears as she took it; it needed not money to +enhance her jealous love for Benja. + +And the boy came back with Mr. Brumm in a state of ecstatic delight, +for he had seen the elephant and everything else. He was despatched to +the Hall with Honour, bearing compliments to its mistress, and a cargo +of good things for himself and Georgy. And Mr. St. John set off on his +homeward journey to Castle Wafer. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. +ONLY AS BROTHER AND SISTER. + + +The September afternoon was passing into the twilight of evening ere +the master of Castle Wafer drew near his home. Miss Georgina Beauclerc +was almost at her wits' end. Determined to carry out her promise of +informing him of the mishap that had befallen his brother, she yet saw +no means of doing it without its coming to the observance of Mrs. St. +John, but by speaking to him in the moment that intervened between his +stepping from his carriage and entering the house. For this purpose +had she been hovering about almost ever since midday, keeping out of +range of the windows, and ready to walk quietly forward as any +ordinary visitor, as soon as the carriage came in sight. But the +carriage did not come; and Georgina, conscious that the Rectory +dinner-hour was approaching, knew not really what to do. + +Just as she was ready to take some desperate step, had she only known +what, she heard the sound of wheels, and the dusty carriage with its +four horses drew quickly up. Georgina was not less quick. But ere she +had well gained the entrance, ere the carriage door was opened, who +should come out of the house, but Mrs. St. John, her hands raised, her +voice lifted in consternation. + +It was a very unusual proceeding, and Georgina halted: she would not +approach Isaac then. Devoutly wishing Mrs. St. John over in Asia, +Georgina listened, and caught sufficient of what passed to hear that +Castle Wafer was in alarm about Frederick. He had not been seen or +heard of since the preceding day. It turned out afterwards that he had +written a second note to Mrs. St. John, which the messenger, sent with +it, had never delivered. Georgina could not approach; and while she +looked, Mr. St. John and his stepmother disappeared within doors +together. + +Excitement was rendering Georgina ill. Have you realized what _an +arrest_ such as this must be to a young lady, shielded from the ways +of the world? a threatened prison for one all too dear? As she stood +there, crouching behind the dwarf shrubs on the lawn, not very +conspicuous in the evening light, Mr. Brumm came to the carriage, +opened the door to take something from the seat, and she darted up to +him. + +"Brumm," she said, emotion lending a catching sound to her voice, "I +want to see Mr. St. John. I must see him, and without delay. If I go +round by the other door and get into his sitting-room, will you +contrive to send him to me? I dare say he is in the drawing-room with +Mrs. St. John." + +For a minute or two Brumm only stared. He looked upon the dean's +daughter, if the truth must be told, as a rather flighty damsel; and +he did not believe she could want anything with Mr. St. John. That is +to say, nothing of importance. + +"My master is excessively fatigued, Miss Beauclerc," he said at +length. "I fear he will not be able to see any one tonight." + +"Don't be an idiot, Brumm," peremptorily retorted the young lady. "I +tell you I _must_ see him: the matter is almost one of life or death. +You get him to me in some way; but take care you do it without +arousing suspicion in Mrs. St. John." + +She stole round the house as she spoke, on her way to Mr. St. John's +own sitting-room--the pleasant room you have sometimes seen him in. +Brumm, in doubt still, yet seeing no remedy but to obey, collected the +things from the carriage, handed them to a footman, and then went to +the drawing-room. + +His master was not seated, but standing. By this Brumm knew that he +did not intend to remain in the room. Mrs. St. John was telling him of +what she called Fred's mysterious conduct, and showed him the note +received on the previous day. She spoke complainingly, and avowed her +belief that her roving son had taken French leave to go back to +London. + +At any rate, there was nothing Mr. St. John could do in the matter; +and in point of fact his fatigue was such he could not in any case +have done much. Excessive bodily fatigue takes from the power of the +mind; and he did not seem to attach much importance to what Mrs. St. +John was saying. He went out of the room, carrying the note with him; +and there he was arrested by Brumm. + +"Will you be so kind, sir, as step into your sitting-room for an +instant?" + +"I am going upstairs, Brumm. I have not felt so tired for years." + +"But--I beg your pardon, sir," resumed Brumm, speaking in the +covert tone he had before used, and which a little surprised his +master--"you--you are wanted there. If you will step this way, sir, I +will explain." + +Mr. St. John quitted the proximity of the drawing-room, which was +evidently what Brumm wished. "Miss Beauclerc was waiting to speak to +him," he whispered as he crossed the hall. "She said she wanted a word +with him in private." + +"Miss Beauclerc!" Wondering very much, not perhaps at her wishing to +speak to him, there was nothing extraordinary in that, but at the air +of secrecy that Brumm seemed to invest the affair with, Mr. St. John +went to his sitting-room. Georgina was pacing it somewhat like a caged +bird, hardly able to suppress her impatience. + +"I have been waiting outside for you since twelve o'clock!" she +exclaimed, ignoring all ceremonious greeting. "I thought you would +never come!" + +"Do you want me?" asked Mr. St. John. + +"Do I want you! I never wanted any one so much in my life. Has Mrs. +St. John been telling you that Frederick has disappeared?" + +"Yes. She thinks he has gone to London." + +"What nonsense!" ejaculated Georgina, pushing back her bonnet from her +flaming cheeks. "As if he would go off to London in that manner! I +have come to tell you about him, Mr. St. John. He had no one to trust, +and so he trusted me. He could not send a letter to await you, lest +Mrs. St. John should open it. He is at the Barley Mow all this time; a +prisoner." + +"A what!" exclaimed Mr. St. John. + +"He was arrested yesterday morning. I saw it done, but I did not +understand it then. It's a horrible man in a great high hat, and he +has got him at the Barley Mow, until you release him." + +Isaac St. John sank into a seat, in his pain--his consternation. +Living always completely out of the world, never having been brought +into contact with its rubs and crosses, a thing of this nature was +calculated to shock him in scarcely a less degree than it had shocked +the young girl before him, who stood there looking at him with her +large grey-blue eyes. + +"Arrested!" he murmured. "Frederick!" + +"You will go and release him, won't you?" said Georgina, anxiously. +"It is a great deal of money; he told me it was some hundreds; but you +will pay it for him?" + +"Yes, I will pay it," replied Mr. St. John, speaking as one lost in +thought. "How came he to tell _you_ about it, Georgina?" + +"Oh, I went and saw him there. I guessed what had happened; there's no +time to tell you how; and I went. I promised to keep his counsel. He +is in a fever lest Mrs. St. John should get to know it." + +"And you will keep it, my dear!" cried Mr. St. John, seizing her hand +and speaking in imploring accents. "It is a cruel disgrace for a St. +John." + +"Trust me; trust me ever," was the girl's earnest answer, as she said +a word of farewell and stole away. + +Little more than an hour later, Frederick St. John was sitting in that +same room with his brother--a free man. He was disclosing to him the +_whole_ of his embarrassments; which he had not done previously. Not +disclosing them altogether willingly, but of necessity; for Mr. St. +John's questionings were searching. The more Frederick told, the more +amazed grew Isaac St. John; it may be said the more utterly astounded +and angry. He had never himself been exposed to the temptations that +beset a young man of position on entering the world, and he judged +them in by no means a tolerant spirit. + +"Frederick, I could not have believed that any human being, gifted +with reasoning faculties, had been guilty of such extravagance!" + +"The money seems to have melted. _I_ had no idea it was diminishing so +fast." + +"It has been recklessness, not simple extravagance." + +Frederick St. John was seated at the table opposite his brother, one +elbow leaning on it, the hand of the other playing with the seal +attached to his watch-chain. The attitude, the voice, the bearing +altogether, seemed to display a carelessness; and it vexed Mr. St. +John. + +"How has the money gone? Is it of any use my asking?" + +"It would be of no use if I could tell you," was the reply. "I +declare, on my honour, that I do not know. As I say, the money seems +to have melted. I was extravagant; I acknowledge that; I spent it +thoughtlessly, heedlessly; and when once the downward path in +money-spending is entered upon, a man finds himself going along with a +run, and can't pull up." + +"Can't?" reproachingly echoed Mr. St. John. + +"Well, Isaac, it is more difficult than you could imagine. I have +found it so. And the worst is, you glide on so easily that you don't +see its danger; otherwise one might sit down halfway and count the +cost. I wish you would not look so grieved." + +"It is not the wilful waste of money that is grieving me," returned +Isaac; "it is the--the thought that _you_ should have suffered +yourself to fall into these evil ways." + +Frederick St. John raised his earnest dark-blue eyes to his brother. +"Believe me, Isaac, a man can get out of money without running into +absolute evil. I can with truth say that it has been my case. A very +great portion of mine has gone in what you and my mother have been +wont to call my hobby: buying pictures and running about after them. +Wherever there was a gallery of paintings to be seen, I went after it, +though it might be at the opposite end of Europe. I bought largely, +thoughtlessly; never considering how I was to pay. I assisted a great +many struggling artists, both English and foreign, and set them on +their legs. I always travelled--and you know how very much I have +travelled--as if I were a wealthy man; and that is costly. But of +evil, in your acceptation of the word, those vices that constitute it, +I have not been guilty. Of extravagance, even, I have not been so +guilty as you may think." + +Mr. St. John lifted his eyebrows. "Not guilty of extravagance?" + +"Isaac, I said not so guilty as you may deem me; not so guilty as +appears on the surface. I fell into that dangerous practice of drawing +bills. When I bought pictures and could not pay for them, I would give +a bill for the amount. When the bill was due, if I could not meet it, +I borrowed money upon another, and so patched up the deficiency in +that way. It is that that has ruined me. If I owed a hundred pounds I +had to pay two for it, sometimes three. Let a man once enter upon this +system, and he won't be long above water." + +"Did you never think of the ending?" + +"Yes, often. But I could not pull up. There it is! Fairly enter on the +downhill path, and there's no getting back again. I can redeem myself +in time, Isaac. If I choose to give up all sources of expense, and +live upon a shilling a day, as the saying runs, things will right +themselves." + +"How long do you think you would be doing it?" + +"Four or five years, I suppose." + +"Just so. The best years of your life. I should not like to see it, +Frederick." + +"It might do me good." + +"It would scarcely be a position for the heir of Castle Wafer." + +"Isaac, believe me, I have never presumed upon that idea; have never +acted upon it. There have not been wanting insidious advisers urging +me to forestall my possible right to its revenues, but I never +listened to them. Though I squandered my own property, I have not +trenched on yours." + +"Quite right," said Mr. St. John. "If anything in the world could make +me wish to deprive you of that heirship, it would be the finding that +you had presumed upon it for unjustifiable purposes. Though you are as +much the heir-apparent to Castle Wafer, Frederick, as though you were +my son, instead of younger brother, and I have assured you of this +before, it is well that the world should remember that the doubt +exists." + +"I wish to remember it also, Isaac. It would be simple folly on my +part not to do so. So long as you live, your intentions may change." + +"Well now, listen to me. This matter has shocked me very greatly, but +I see that it might have been worse; and if it has purchased for you +that experience without which I conclude you worldly young men cannot +settle down, I shall not think the cost too dear. You must begin again +upon a fresh footing. A totally different one. I will help you upon +two conditions." + +"What are they?" + +"The first is, that you give me your word of honour never to put your +name to another bill." + +"I will give it with all my heart. It is only these embarrassments +that have caused me to draw bills, and I had already made a firm +resolution never to touch another, if once clear. I hate bills." + +"Very well then, so far. The other condition is, that you marry." + +For a minute Frederick St. John was silent. The avowal seemed to cause +him no surprise. He did not look up, only paused in thought. It may be +that he had anticipated it. + +"I fear I must demur to that, Isaac." + +"Hear me farther. It has always been my intention to resign to you +Castle Wafer on your marriage. If I have made the abode beautiful, +Frederick, I have only done it for you. I shall go to that little +place of mine in the North, and when I come to Castle Wafer, it will +be as your guest. Do not interrupt me. No right to deprive me of it? +Nonsense! I dare say I should be here six months in the year. Let me +go on. Your own property I will free at once from its encumbrances; +and I should make over a liberal income to you besides; one fitting +for the occupant of Castle Wafer. The settlements on your wife also +shall be liberal. Is there anything more that you would desire?" + +"I do not desire half this," was the warm reply. "You have ever been +too generous to me, Isaac. But"--and Frederick St. John laughed +gaily--"before I can say that I will marry, it is necessary to fix +upon a wife." + +"That, I hope, has been done long ago, Frederick." + +"Not by me," he answered, speaking very quietly. "It has not of course +escaped my observation that you and my mother have had your wishes +turned towards Anne: but--I--I--have not encouraged this." + +"It has been the universal wish of the St. John family that you and +Anne should marry." + +"I dare say it has. But the fact is, Isaac, I and Anne do not care for +each other. As well perhaps avow it, now it has come to a point +Hitherto I have only evaded the question." + +"Could you wish for a better wife than Anne?" + +"I could not find a better in real worth. But we marry for love, not +for worth: at least, worth goes for little when there is no love. My +inclinations do not lie towards Anne." + +Mr. St. John's face looked deathly pale as he leaned forward. The +fatigue of the day was making itself acutely felt: and at these times +crosses tell upon the heart. + +"Do you know that her father wished it?" he said in low tones. "He +mentioned it to me more than once when he was dying--how glad he +should be if he thought you would marry Anne. You were but a boy then; +but you were a favourite with the earl." + +"Fathers' wishes go for little in such matters," was the unwelcome +reply. + +"Let me ask you a question, Frederick. Have you formed any other +attachment?" + +"No. At least"--and he laughed again--"I am not sure but I had a fancy +of the sort once. I believe it has passed." + +"Is there anything between you and Georgina Beauclerc?" asked Isaac. +"Any love?" + +"Not on--" my side, had all but escaped him in his impulsiveness. But +he was in time to alter the phrase. "Not anything." + +"Then it is not she who is keeping you from Anne?" + +"Neither she nor any one else. I decline Anne of my own free will. But +indeed, Isaac, one great and essential objection is, that I do not +care to marry at present." + +"Why don't you?" + +"I am unable to give you any particular reason, except that I don't. +And I really do not know who would have me." + +"Anne would have you." + +A peculiar smile hovered for a moment on his lips. It was followed by +words that bitterly offended Mr. St. John. + +"I shall not ask her." + +Bit by bit the dissension grew. One word led to another, and a +grievous quarrel ensued. It was the first that had ever taken place +between the brothers. Hasty words were spoken on both sides: things +that leave a sting upon the mind: and when, an hour later, Frederick +dashed out of the room, it was because he could not control his +passion within it. + +Lady Anne was the first he encountered. The sounds had penetrated +outside, and she was in a paroxysm of alarm and uneasiness. "Oh, +Frederick, what has been the matter? Is it anything about me?" + +Even then he was generous. Putting the cause upon himself, rather than +on her, and disclosing what at a calmer moment he would not have done. +"I was arrested, Anne, ad Isaac and I have been quarrelling over it. +Where's my mother?" + +"Waiting dinner all this time. We thought you were never coming. They +are coming in for the evening from the Rectory, and will be here +before we have dined." + +He was turning away in search of his mother, when Lady Anne caught him +by the arm, speaking in a whisper: + +"Nothing came out about Captain Saville?" + +"Not a word. Be easy. Have I not told you you might trust me?" + +Seeking the presence of his mother, he startled her by saying he was +at once going up to London, by a night train. In vain Mrs. St. John +strove to combat his resolution, to ascertain particulars of the +stormy interview just passed. Even as she was pressing for it, he +kissed her, and was gone; asking Brumm to see that his things were +sent after him. + +Swinging away from the door in his independence, he commenced his walk +to the station at Lexington, with a step firm and fleet, as became an +angry man. For a very short way his road lay through the covered walk, +and here, as he was going along in his haste, he encountered Mrs. +Beauclerc, her niece and daughter. + +"Were you coming to escort us?" asked Georgina, her words ready as +usual. + +"I am hastening to Lexington," he said. "I am going back to London by +the first train that passes." + +"What for?" + +He made no reply. He turned to Mrs. Beauclerc, asking if he could do +anything for her in town. + +"Nothing, thank you," she answered, "unless you should see the dean. +He was to be in London about this time, I believe. _I_ can do nothing +with her; she's placing herself beyond my control. Would you believe +that she was out some hours today, never coming in until dark, and +she will not tell me what was keeping her or who she was with!" + +Frederick St. John hardly heard the complaint. He turned to Sarah, who +had walked on, as if impatient at the encounter. + +"Will you not say God speed to me? I may not be here again for a long, +long time." + +She did not put out her hand. She simply wished him good evening. Just +this same freezing conduct had she observed to him in the one or two +interviews that had taken place since his arrival. Who knows but it +was the turning-point in their destiny? But for this repellent manner, +made unnecessarily so, and which had told so disagreeably on him, he +might in this contest with his brother have said: "Not Anne my wife; +change her for another, and I will not say you nay." That it would +have been listened to by Isaac St. John, there was little doubt. + +"I never saw mamma in such a passion," whispered the giddy girl to him +when the others went on. "I had kept dinner waiting, you see, and +nothing exasperates her like that. Then she wanted to know where I had +been: 'Out with the gipsies,' I answered. I couldn't tell the truth, +you know. She was so mad!" + +"And where had you been?" + +"Where had I been! That's good! In this very grove; here; watching for +the carriage of Mr. St. John. I came into it at half-past twelve, and +never got out of it until between six and seven!" + +"You are a good and true girl, Georgina, though you are random," he +said, taking her hand and speaking in a softer tone than she generally +heard from him. "How shall I repay you for what you have done for me?" + +"Oh, it's not much," she said, her large grey eyes raised to his, +discernible in the clear night. He might have thought he saw a +moisture in them, but for her light tone, her careless laugh. "It's +not much, I say. Tell me why you are going to London?" + +"Because I have had a dispute with Isaac. Fare you well, Georgina; +take care of yourself, child. Thank you ever for what you have done +for me." + +The eyes had tears in them now, unmistakably; and her hand rested in +his with a lingering pressure. Mr. St. John stooped in his +heedlessness and left a kiss upon her lips. + +"There's no harm in it that I know of, Georgina. We have ever been as +brother and sister." + +Her cheeks crimsoned, her pulses beating, her whole frame thrilling +with a rapture hitherto unknown, she stood motionless as he +disappeared round the turning of the walk. But ere she had realized +the emotion to her own soul, it gave place to sober fact, untinged +with sentiment. The delusive mist cleared away from her eyes, and she +saw things as they _were_, not as they might have been. + +"As brother and sister!" she murmured in her pain. "Only as brother +and sister!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. +ST. MARTIN'S EVE. + + +It was the 10th of November, St. Martin's Eve, the birthday of the +young chief of Alnwick, and of his little brother George; the first +birthday, as you will remember, since the death of Mr. Carleton St. +John, and of the boy's inheritance. Benja was five, George three, that +day. + +The day was one of ovation for Benja. With early morning a serenade of +music had been heard underneath the windows, proceeding from some of +the tenantry; the servants came in with their respectful +congratulations; and sundry visitors drove up after breakfast to pay +the same. A present had arrived for Benja in the morning from General +Carleton--a handsome gold watch, which must have cost twenty or thirty +guineas. The General had never married, and knew far less about +children than he did about Hottentots, so no doubt thought a gold +watch was a suitable present for a young gentleman of five. Benja was +highly pleased with the costly toy, and of course wished to +appropriate it forthwith; so Honour attached some black watered-ribbon +to it, which she put round his neck, and let him display the watch and +key from his belt. It was a key and seal in one; Master Benja's crest +and initials were engraved on it, and it was attached to the watch by +a short gold chain. + +Matters were not progressing favourably between Prance and Honour. And +if you think, my readers, that the squabbles of two maid-servants are, +or ought to be, too insignificant to be thus frequently alluded to, I +can only say that the fact bears so much upon the tragic event soon to +be related, that the allusion could not be avoided. About a fortnight +before this, Honour had had a day's holiday to go and see some +relatives; she had wished to take Benja with her, but Mrs. St. John +would not allow it, and he was left under the charge of Prance. In the +course of the afternoon, Mrs. St. John drove over to Alnwick Cottage, +taking George. They remained there to dinner, and during this absence +of hers Prance and Benja came to an issue. When Honour returned to the +Hall--and she reached it before Mrs. St. John did--she found that +Benja had not only been whipped with more severity than was seemly, +but that he had been locked up alone in an isolated room, where his +cries could not be heard. She found him exhausted with weeping, marks +raised on his back--altogether in a sad state. Whether, as Prance +affirmed, Master Benja had been unbearably insolent to her; whether, +as Honour said and believed, she must maliciously have taken the +opportunity to pay off old scores of dislike to him, was not +satisfactorily settled. Probably the real fact might lie between the +two. But you may judge what sort of an explosion came from Honour. +Prance shut herself up in her chamber, and would vouchsafe no answer +to it; the servants took part with Honour, for Prance had never yet +found favour with them. Mrs. St. John returned home in the midst of +the commotion. Honour carried Benja and the complaint to her; but she +seemed to treat it with indifference, and did not reprove Prance, as +far as the household could learn. Honour had been in a state of +indignation from that day to this, and her animosity to Prance was +bitter. "She'd kill the boy if she could," was a remark of hers that +went openly through the house. + +Mrs. St. John sat in her drawing-room, waiting for the boys. +She had promised to dine with them that day at two, and cut the +birthday-pudding, foregoing her usual late dinner. Being a rather +strict disciplinarian as to the children taking their meals regularly, +she preferred to change her own hour for once, not theirs. The boys +were being attired, and she sat waiting for them, her outward +demeanour calm as usual, her mind a very chaos of rebellious tumult. + +The marks of honour shown to Benja that day had not been extended to +George. They were paid to the boy as _the heir_, not simply as Benja +St. John. People had kissed Georgy, and wished him many happy returns, +but there it ended. There had been no court paid to him, no music, no +set congratulations; _they_ had been rendered to the chief of Alnwick. +And Mrs. St. John was resenting this; ah, how bitterly! It was the +first time the wide contrast between the position of the boys had been +brought palpably before her, and but for the very greatest control, +she had burst into a frenzy. + +"I can't bear it; I can't bear it," she exclaimed to herself, +clasping her hands in pain. "Why should my boy be displaced for that +other--despised--passed over as nothing! My darling! my life! my all! +If he had only been born first; if he had only been born first!" + +She unclasped her hands, and bent her head down on them, striving to +subdue her emotion; striving, indeed, to put away the unhealthy train +of thought. None knew better than herself how utterly futile it was to +indulge it, how much happier it would be for her if she could drive it +away to some far-off Lethe, whence it would never rise again. There is +not the least doubt that this poor young woman, who had been born into +the world with unwholesome passions, and had not had them checked in +childhood, was really trying to do a good part by her stepson; and +she believed she was doing it. She relied entirely on her own +strength: she had not learnt yet where to look for any other. The +daily struggle was getting rather formidable. It was directed to two +points: on the one hand, she strove partially to hide her most +passionate love for her own child; on the other, she tried to overcome +her jealous dislike of Benja. But there were times, as today, when +this jealousy raged within her, seeming to scorch her breast to +madness. + +The children came in, radiant with good humour and happiness: Benja +with his face of intelligence, Georgy with his shower of fair curls +and pretty ways. Mrs. St. John lifted her pale face and kissed them +both: she _was_ striving, in her own feeble way, against her evil +spirit. They wore new black velvet birthday-dresses, with narrow +crimped cambric frills round the neck, and on the left sleeve of each +dress was a knot of crape, badge of their mourning. From Benja's belt +was conspicuously displayed the new watch; and Benja did not tire of +rattling the chain. Even that little trifle, the present of the watch, +was made a subject of resentment by Mrs. St. John. Benja had two +watches now. In the last days of his father's illness he had taken his +watch off and given it to Benja. "When he shall be twelve years old, +Charlotte, let him take it into use," he said to his wife. Yes; Benja +had two watches; Georgy none. + +Georgy began, in his noisy fashion, to climb on his mother's knee, and +Mrs. St. John threw back the white crape lappets of her cap as she +clasped the boy to her. Georgy, however, did not favour clasping as a +rule, and he struggled out of it now. + +"What's that?" cried he, snatching at a note that lay on the table at +his mother's elbow. + +"That's a note from grandmamma, Georgy; she cannot come to us today." + +"Oh, I am so sorry," cried Benja, who was exceedingly fond of Mrs. +Darling, always kind and good-humoured to the children. "Why can't she +come, mamma?" + +"She's not well," answered Mrs. St. John, languidly, but in a tone +that seemed to indicate she did not care much about the matter, one +way or the other. Mrs. Darling had been invited to spend the birthday +with them; but in the note just received from her by Mrs. St. John, +she intimated that she was very unwell indeed. A rare excuse for Mrs. +Darling to put forward, who was always in the possession of rude +health. + +"Mamma, me want a watch." + +"You shall have one, my son." + +"When?" continued Georgy. "As soon as I can get out to buy you one." + +"One that goes, like Benja's?" demanded Master Georgy. + +"It shall be the best gold watch that I can buy for money," answered +Mrs. St. John, allowing the passionate emotion that the subject called +up to become momentarily apparent. + +An opportune interruption intervened: the butler came in and announced +dinner. Mrs. St. John, feeling a relief, she could not tell from what, +went quickly to the dining-room, Georgy held in her hand, Benja +following. + +It was a sumptuous repast. The housekeeper had put forth her strength +to do honour to the birthdays; but, had you asked her _why_ she had so +exerted herself, she might have said it was the heir she had thought +of, more than the little one. Inviting as the entertainment was, +however, there was one of the three who did little justice to it, and +that was Mrs. St. John. She could not eat: but, as if the fire of her +restless spirit had imparted itself to her body, she drank frequently, +as one parched with thirst. Sherry and champagne were the wines used +with dinner. She was kind and attentive to the boys, helping both to +whatever dishes they chose, and to as much as they chose. Prance, who +was in attendance upon Master George, seeing that his birthday-dress +did not come to grief, forgot her good manners by telling him that he +"ate enough for a little pig:" of which Mrs. St. John took no manner +of notice, but continued to heap his plate according to his fancy. +Honour was not present, Master Benja being considered old enough now +to be waited on by the men-servants. + +Dinner came to an end, the servants and Prance withdrew, and the +children were left to take dessert with their mamma. Mrs. St. John was +drinking port wine then and cracking walnuts, of which fruit she was +very fond. By-and-by, when the boys grew tired of sitting, they slid +off their chairs, and began to look out for some amusement. Had Mrs. +St. John been wise, she would have rung the nursery-bell then, and +sent them to the nursery, where they might play at leisure; but she +was absorbed with her walnuts and port wine, and did nothing of the +sort. After capering about for a short time, George went up to Benja. + +"Let me have the watch on now," he began. + +"No," said Benja, "you'll break it." + +"Me shan't break it," lisped Georgy. + +"I'm afraid," returned Benja, rather undecidedly. "Honour said you +would." + +"Mamma, Benja won't let me have his watch!" + +"Don't ask him, my darling," said Mrs. St. John, her mother's heart +more resentful at the refusal than Georgy's was, for the conversation +had penetrated to her senses. "I will buy you a better one than that." + +"But me want that now," retorted resolutely Master George, who had a +will of his own. "Me won't break it, Benja." + +Benja possessed one of the kindest hearts beating. He looked at his +watch, thinking he should not like it to be broken, and then he looked +at Georgy, who stood turning up his pretty face, eagerly protesting he +would take care of it. In another moment, Benja had hung the watch +round the younger one's neck. + +Gratification enough for the time. Georgy paraded up and down the +room, the watch hanging before him on his velvet tunic, as if the +walls were alive with eyes, and he was challenging their admiration. +Presently he stood still, took off the watch, and began to open it. + +"Don't do that," interposed Benja, who had been watching all the time. +"You'll spoil it. Give it back to me." + +"No," said Master George, very positively. + +"Give it back to me, I tell you, Georgy." + +"Give him back his watch, Georgy, my dearest," interrupted Mrs. St. +John. "Let him keep it to himself if he is so selfish." + +Benja, child though he was, felt a sense of injustice. But the +reproach told, and he made no further remonstrance. There was ever a +certain timidity in his heart when in the presence of Mrs. St. John. +So George thought he could go as far as he pleased with impunity, and +his next movement was to take firm hold of the short gold chain and +swing the watch round and round after the manner of a rattle. + +"Oh, mamma, mamma!" cried Benja, in an agony, running up to Mrs. St. +John and laying his hands upon her knee, to attract her attention, "do +not let him spoil my watch. See what he is doing with it!" + +Mrs. St. John's usual self-control deserted her. That self-control, I +mean, which enabled her to treat Benja and George with equal justice. +Whether the morning's doings, the ovations to Benja, were really +exciting her more than she could bear, or whether--but let that pass +for the present. However it might be, she tacitly refused to +interfere, and pushed Benja from her with a gesture of dislike. The +boy, finding he could get no redress where it ought to have been +afforded, ran back to Georgy and seized him just as he was flying to +his mother for protection. The naughty, spoiled child, finding he +might no longer retain possession of the watch, dashed it into a far +corner, and they heard its glass crash on the floor, beyond the turkey +carpet. + +Benja was by nature a sweet-tempered child: he had also been kept +under by Mrs. St. John; but this was more than he could bear. He burst +into a loud fit of weeping, and struck out at Georgy with all his +might and main. Georgy roared, screamed, kicked, and tried to bite. + +As a tigress flies to protect its young, up rose Mrs. St. John, her +voice loud, her eyes wearing that strangely wild look at times +observable there. A passion, mad and fierce as that you once saw her +in, in the presence of her husband, overpowered her now. As she had +hurled Benja to the ground that ever-to-be-remembered day, so she +would have hurled him this; but the boy was older and stronger now, +and he struggled against it. Better that he had yielded! It might in a +degree have appeased the mad woman who was upon him: and his strength +was as nothing compared with hers. His little head was struck against +the table, his costly new birthday-dress was torn. He screamed with +pain, Georgy screamed with terror, and Honour, who happened to be near +the door at the time, came rushing in. + +"Good Heavens!" she exclaimed, "what is it? What has he done?" + +"Me took his watch," sobbed little Georgy, in a fit of remorseful +generosity. "Me not want mamma to hit him like that." + +"How can you for shame treat him in such a manner, ma'am?" cried +Honour, indignantly, as her own passion rose; and she spoke to her +mistress as she had never dared to speak before. "Poor orphan child I +Nobody to protect him! How can you reconcile it to the memory of my +dead master?" + +Mrs. Carleton St. John stood glaring at the girl, her hand pointed +imperiously, her voice low now with command. It was as if some +soothing oil had been thrown on the wounds of passion. + +"Tomorrow morning you quit my service, Honour Tritton? I never +tolerate insolence, and I find that you have been here too long. Take +that boy out of my sight." + +Somehow in the fray, they had all hemmed themselves into a corner, and +the broken glass was cracking under Mrs. St. John's feet. Honour +picked up the watch with a jerk which bespoke the temper she was in, +clasped the sobbing boy tenderly in her arms, and went upstairs with +him, meeting Prance at the dining-room door, as she was gliding in. + +"It's a burning shame!" broke forth Honour, sitting down by the +nursery fire and dashing the coals about with the poker, while she +held Benja to her with the other hand--"it's a burning shame that he +should be so treated! If she does turn me away, I'll go every step of +the way to Castle Wafer and tell all I know to your guardian, Benja. +If I don't do it, may Heaven never prosper me!" + +Poor little ill-treated child! He lay there in her lap, smarting with +the pain, his trembling heart beating. + +"Let the worst come to the worst, my precious lamb, it can only be for +a few years," began Honour again. "I know it said in my master's will +that you were to be sent early to Eton." + +"What's Eton?" sobbed Benja. + +"Something very good," rejoined Honour, who had no definite ideas on +the subject herself. "And when you are of age, my darling, all Alnwick +will be yours, and she and Master Georgy must turn out of it." + +"Where will they go?" asked Benja. + +"I don't know where, and it don't matter where," continued the woman +in her injudicious partisanship. "You will be master at Alnwick, and +nobody can live here then unless you choose to let them." + +"Who is master now?" questioned Benja. + +"You are, my pretty boy, and have been ever since your papa died; only +she lives, in it and gives orders because you are not old enough. +Master's wits must have gone a wool-gathering," added the exasperated +Honour in soliloquy, "when he left her with any power over the child +at all." + +Honour was right in the main. + +Benja remained on her lap, his sobs gradually subsiding. He lay +thinking of many things, such as occur to children, his ideas running +from one topic to another. Presently he spoke. + +"Honour, when is my church to be finished?" + +"Suppose I finish it this afternoon," cried Honour, starting up. +"There's scarcely anything left of it to do, and if I am turned away +it may never get done at all." + +Opening a closet-door, she took from it what seemed to be the model of +a very pretty country church, with its spire, begun in pursuance of +her promise to Benja after the visit to the "Emporium of Foreign +Curiosities." Like many another thing entered upon in haste, this +coveted treasure had not yet been completed. The fact was, Honour +found more trouble over it than she had anticipated, and Benja, in the +protracted waiting, forgot his eagerness, All that was left to be done +now was the pasting on of the coloured windows. They were cut out of +thin rose paper; the walls of the structure being of thicker paper and +white, and the framework of thin wood. + +Honour collected her materials, and soon accomplished her task, though +she had not been sparing of her windows. Benja forgot his troubles in +watching her. She had taken off his velvet dress, with many a +lamentation over the rent, and put on him a brown-holland tunic, +handsomely trimmed with black silk braid. Over that she tied a white +pinafore, lest he should make too free acquaintance with the paste. + +At dusk all was completed, and this famous church lighted up by means +of the bit of candle inside. Benja clapped his hands with delight. It +was a novel, ingenious, picturesque sight, especially to a child. The +fire had burned low and there was no other light in the room, so that +the church was shown off to perfection, and was a really striking and +conspicuous object. Suddenly the flame inside began to whiffle. + +"It's the draught from that door," observed Honour. "Shut it, Benja; +shut it gently." + +She spoke of the door which opened into Mrs. St. John's dressing-room. +It is possible that you may remember there was formerly no door there; +but Mrs. St. John had caused one to be made at the birth of George, +that she might pass into the nursery at will, without going into the +corridor. Now that George was beyond babyhood, this door was generally +kept bolted, the bolt being on Mrs. St. John's side, not any on that +of the nursery; but it was sometimes, as now, left open. + +Honour turned her head to the door as she spoke, and saw the little +boy place his hands upon the panel to push it to, after the manner of +children, and it closed gently. Benja came to the table again to feast +his eyes. The flame was steady now. + +"There ought to be moss all round here," observed Honour, pointing to +the board on which the church rested. "But it's too late to put it on +tonight: and, for the matter of that, I have no moss. If I stop, we +will ask the gardener to get some." + +Benja did not care for the moss. To his admiring eyes nothing could +improve its present aspect. He gazed at it on the drawers, he danced +before it on the table, he carried it to and fro in the room, obeying +Honour's injunctions to keep it upright and steady. In this manner +some time passed, and they allowed the fire to go out. + +"Bother take the fire!" ejaculated Honour. "And I have neither wood +nor matches up here." + +She had her hand upon the bell, when it suddenly occurred to her that +she would go down for the things herself. No one living liked a gossip +better than she, and the scene in the dining-room was burning her +tongue. Placing the church on the table, and strictly charging Benja +not to touch it while she was away, Honour went out by the ordinary +door, and descended the backstairs. To this door, and I would have +you note the difference, the fastening was inside. It was not a bolt, +but a common button, placed high up beyond reach of the children. + +Never had Honour relished a gossip more than the one she now entered +on with the servants. Every little detail of the dining-room affray, +so far as she had been a witness to it, was related by her to the +servants, who did not spare their comments or their sympathy. Honour +was quite unable to tear herself away, until by the striking of the +clock she found she must have been there nearly half-an-hour. Hardly +believing her ears, she caught up a bundle of faggots and a box of +matches, popped them into her apron, together with a pair of snuffers +and an extinguisher, and ran up the stairs. Turning the handle of the +door to enter hastily, she was surprised to find that she could not +open it. + +"Master Benja, why have you fastened the door?" she called out. "Come +and undo it." + +There was no reply. + +"He must have got upon a chair and turned the button," soliloquized +Honour. But at that moment she became conscious of a smell of burning, +as of wool. Letting the things she carried fall with a crash, she flew +along the passage and turned into her mistress's dressing-room, that +she might obtain entrance that way. That door was also fastened, but +on the outer side. It was no unusual occurrence--in fact, it was +usually kept bolted, as was just now observed, and Honour at the +moment thought nothing of it. Slipping back the bolt, she went in. + +Oh! what did Honour see! Where was the young heir of Alnwick? A dark +mass smouldering on the floor at the far end of the room, the carpet +smouldering, no trace whatever remaining of the pretty and dangerous +toy she had made, no trace of _him_, save that shapeless heap from +which the spirit had flown! + +With awful cries, with wild shrieks of terrified alarm, Honour flew +through the dressing-room, and down the grand staircase, her cries +arousing the household, arousing Mrs. St. John. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. +CONFLICTING STATEMENTS. + + +How the night subsequently went on, few at the Hall could tell. For +some time it was one scene of horror and confusion. One of the grooms, +unbidden, saddled a horse and went galloping for Mr. Pym; and in an +almost incredibly short space of time, the surgeon was there. But what +could he do? That one precious little spirit had gone, never to be +recalled by leech of this world. Another, however, wanted the +attentions of Mr. Pym,--and that was little George. The child, +aroused by the cries of Honour from a sleep he had fallen into in the +dining-room, had escaped upstairs into the nursery. A rush of terror +overtook him, baby though he was, at what he saw there, and at being +told it was Benja, and he fell into a succession of fits of sickness +and shivering. + +It must be assumed--it was so assumed in the house--that this burning +was the result of accident; the result, it may also be said, of Honour +Tritton's carelessness. She had gone down secure in the belief that +the boy would obey her mandate and not touch the church. Oh, how could +she have been so foolish! To look at a new toy and not touch it, to +gaze at its attractions from a distance and not examine them, is +philosophy beyond a child. Perhaps the little boy--for he was an +obedient boy naturally--tried for some minutes to exercise his +patience; but no doubt could be entertained that he at length took the +church in his hands again. In how short a time the accident occurred, +and how it occurred, was as yet unknown--it may be said, it was hidden +in mystery. + +The position of those in the house during this time appeared to be as +follows. The servants were all downstairs, with the exception of +Prance; and Honour, as you have heard, was with them. Mrs. St. John +and George were shut up in the dining-room, the latter asleep, the +former, as she said, nearly if not quite asleep also. Where Prance was +at the time did not as yet appear, neither had any question been +raised in regard to it. + +But in the midst of the dreadful horror which had taken possession of +the unhappy Honour, two points thrust themselves prominently forward +in her brain. The one was, How did the child get fastened in the room? +the other was, that she had seen Prance hiding in a recess of the +passage as she ran along it. This was not so much a remembrance as a +conviction; and it seemed to Honour as if she had not noticed, or had +very superficially noticed, Prance's being there at the time, but the +fact had flashed into her mind afterwards. On the opposite side of the +passage, about midway between the nursery-door and the dressing-room +door, the recess was situated--a small arched recess. Poor Mr. +Carleton St. John in his lifetime had wondered laughingly whether the +architect had put it there for ornament or for use. + +The first person Mr. Pym sought on his arrival, after he had taken a +hopeless look at that sight in the nursery, where the floor was now +half-inundated by the water employed to put the fire out, was Mrs. St. +John. She was in the dining-room, and he found her almost unnaturally +calm and collected; some people are so in these moments of calamity. +The only sign of emotion was her death-like pallor. She gave him the +account of what had occurred, so far, she observed, as she knew it; +candidly confessing to the fracas that had taken place in the room +after dinner. Benja had set upon George unmercifully, and in return +she had corrected Benja: boxed his ears, and, she really believed, had +shaken him. It was very rare indeed that she was so hasty with either +of the children; and she would give the whole world not to have +touched him, now that he was gone. After Honour took him away to the +nursery, she had remained in the dining-room, not quitting it until +disturbed by the shrieks of Honour. Prance came in once or twice to +ask if she should take George, but she did not let him go. The boy +went to sleep in his papa's large chair, and she sat down by him and +took his legs upon her lap. She was nearly asleep herself when the +cries began, and she had felt startled almost to death. The whole +fault, she feared, lay with Honour. The woman had confessed the facts +in the first moment of terror: she had left Benja alone with some +dangerous paper toy lighted up with a candle, while she went +downstairs and stayed gossiping with the servants. The poor little +fellow must have set himself on fire. + +"But did no one hear his cries?" asked Mr. Pym, who had not previously +interrupted the narrative. + +Mrs. St. John supposed not. All she knew was, that they had not +penetrated to the dining-room. The surgeon listened. He knew the walls +on that side the house were massive, and if the child was shut up in +the nursery--as it appeared he had been--it was hardly likely that he +would be heard, unless any one had happened to be upstairs. The +dining-room was in the other wing of the house, its doors were double; +and the kitchens were beyond the dining-room. + +"The odd thing to me is, that he did not run out of the room," cried +Mr. Pym. "A strong lad of five years old would hardly stop in a room +to be burnt, for the want of escaping out of it. The first thing most +of us attempt in a similar calamity is to run from the room: often a +fatal step. But he does not seem to have attempted it." + +Mrs. St. John shook her head. She did not know any of the details: +they must of course be left to supposition. Honour deserved hanging +for having left the child alone with a lighted toy. + +It was at this juncture that Mr. Pym's attention was called to George. +The child was very sick; had been sick at intervals since the fright. +After attending to him; Mr. Pym went in search of Honour. He found her +alone, in a lamentable state of distress, in the bedroom that had been +hers and the unhappy child's. + +And now it must be mentioned that Honour had been arriving at a sudden +and very dreadful doubt. As the mists cleared away from her brain and +she was able to reflect more calmly upon the probabilities of the +accident, she began to think whether it had not been wilfully caused. +And the doubt was assuming the aspect of certainty in her mind, when +Mr. Pym came in. + +For some minutes she could not speak; she could only cry and sob, and +cover her face with her apron in very shame and remorse. Mr. Pym did +not reproach her in her distress: he rather set himself, when she had +gathered calmness, to learn what he could of the particulars. Honour +freely confessed all. She told of the affair in the dining-room, +giving a different colouring to it from that her mistress had done, +and causing Mr. Pym's grey eyebrows to scowl themselves into ugliness. +She told how she had afterwards finished the church for him, +describing what it was, and where the idea had been taken from. She +said she had left it with him lighted, had gone down for wood, and +stayed talking the best part of half-an-hour. Not a thing did she +conceal; not a point that could tell against herself did she gloss +over. + +"He was always an obedient boy," she wailed, "and I did not think he +would touch it when I bade him not. And I never thought I had been +down so long, till I heard the clock strike!" + +"It is strange you did not hear his cries!" + +"The kitchens are too far off." + +"And it is very strange that the boy did not run out of the room: +unless smoke overpowered him from the first. I cannot make out why he +did not. It is a bad plan in general, but in this instance it might +have saved his life by bringing help to him." + +Honour made no immediate remark. She had been sitting in a low chair, +swaying her body backwards and forwards in her distress. Suddenly she +looked up at the surgeon and spoke in a low tone. + +"I want to know who fastened the doors." + +"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Pym, after a pause of surprise. + +"I don't think he was burnt by accident, sir," she continued, glancing +at the walls as if afraid of being overheard, and speaking in the +faintest possible whisper. "I think it was done on purpose." + +"Good Heavens, woman!" exclaimed the astonished surgeon, really +wondering whether the trouble was turning her brain. + +"There are things connected with it that I can't understand," she +continued. "They did not strike me particularly at the moment, but +they do now that I can think of them. He _couldn't_ get out of the +room; he was fastened in." + +That she was not suffering from mental aberration at present, was +apparent enough to the surgeon; the girl was as sane as he was. Honour +thought he was never going to leave off staring at her. + +"When I left him upstairs, I left both doors open; that is, +unfastened," she went on. "When I got back again, both were fastened; +the one on the inside, the other on the out. _I want to know who did +it_." + +It might have been a fancy of Honour's, but she thought the doctor +changed countenance. "Are you sure of this?" he asked. + +"As sure as I am that I am living and my darling child is dead." + +Mr. Pym's eyebrows contracted themselves yet more. "Just describe to +me consecutively what occurred, will you?" he said. "How did you know +that the doors were fastened?" + +"Because I couldn't get in," said Honour, thinking it rather a simple +question. "When I got back with my little bundle of faggots, I found +the door was buttoned inside. I thought the child had got upon the +chair and done it; but, short as the moment was that I had for +thought, it struck me as being strange, for I had never known him to +do such a thing before. As I called to him to unfasten it, I fancied +there was a smell of burning, and I ran round through my mistress's +dressing-room and turned the handle of the door to open it, and found +that door was also fastened, bolted on the outside. The smell was very +strong then, and in my frenzy I forgot the strangeness of the +circumstance, for the door is in general kept bolted----" + +"Then why should you be surprised at finding it bolted then?" +interrupted Mr. Pym. + +"Because it was not bolted when I went down," returned Honour. "It was +open while I was finishing the church, and I told the child to shut +it, as the draught caused the flame inside the paper walls to whiffle +about. He pushed the door to with his dear little hands, and I watched +him. That's how I know it was unfastened then, sir." + +"In your flurry afterwards, when you attempted to enter, you perhaps +only fancied it was fastened," suggested Mr. Pym. + +"No, sir. When I tried to open it and could not, I found the bolt was +pushed into the grove to its full extent. The end came beyond the +grove, and I pushed it back with my fingers." + +Mr. Pym rose impulsively, as if he would look at the door for himself; +but halted suddenly and sat down again. + +"That could not have been done without hands," proceeded Honour. "And +why was it done?" + +The surgeon made no attempt to answer the question. He seemed very +greatly put out, as if the revelation had alarmed or unnerved him, +scarcely noticing Honour. + +"Mrs. St. John says she heard nothing," he presently observed to +himself, as one in abstraction. "Honour," he continued in +straightforward tones to the girl, "I think you must be mistaken. +There appears to have been no one upstairs who would have bolted it. +Mrs. St. John tells me she did not quit the dining-room: the servants +say they never came up at all during the afternoon." + +"One of them was up," rejoined Honour in the same low voice, and the +same roving gaze round the walls, "and that was Prance. I saw her +myself; I can't be mistaken. Does _she_ say she was not upstairs, +sir?" + +"She has said nothing to me one way or the other," replied Mr. Pym. "I +heard it said generally that the servants had not been upstairs." + +"Prance was; and if she says she was not, she tells a lie. She was +hidden in the recess outside, opposite the doors." + +"Hidden in the recess. When?" + +"After I dropped the things from my apron, and was running round to +the dressing-room, I saw Prance standing inside the recess; she was +squeezing herself against the wall, sir, as if afraid I should see +her." + +"Did you speak to her?" + +"No, sir; and you may feel surprised at what I am going to say, but +it's the truth. I was so flurried at the time, what with finding the +first door fastened and with the smell of burning, that I did not seem +then to be conscious of seeing her. I suppose my eyes took in the +impression without conveying it to my mind. But afterwards it all came +into my mind, and I remembered it, and how she was standing. It was +just as if she had fastened the doors, and then put herself there to +listen to the child's dying cries." + +"Hush," authoritatively reproved Mr. Pym. "You are not yourself, girl, +or you would not say it." + +"I don't think I am," candidly acknowledged Honour, bursting into +tears. "My brain feels as if it were on the turn to madness. Prance +has been cross and hard and cruel to the child always, and I'm +naturally excited against her." + +"But she would not shut the doors upon him if he were burning," +retorted the surgeon, some anger in his tone. "You should be careful +what you say." + +"I wish I could be put out of my misery!" sobbed Honour. "I wish +they'd hang me for my carelessness in leaving him alone with a lighted +toy! I did do that; and I hope I shall be punished for it. I shall +never know another happy moment. Thus far the fault is mine. But I did +not fasten the doors upon him, so that he could not escape for his +life: and I am perfectly certain that in any fright, or calamity, or +danger, the child's first impulse would have been to fly down the +backstairs to me." + +She threw her apron over her head, sobbing and crying, and swaying her +body backwards and forwards on the chair as before, in the intensity +of her emotion. The surgeon sat still a few moments, endeavouring to +recall his scattered senses, and then rose and touched her shoulder to +command attention. She let fall her apron. + +"This thing that you affirm must be investigated, look you, Honour. +For--for--for the sake of all, it must be sifted to the bottom. No one +in their right minds," he emphatically added, "would shut the doors +upon a burning child; and that appears to be the theory you have +adopted, so far as I can gather it. Have you stated these facts to +your mistress?" + +"I have not seen her since," answered Honour. "Except at the first +moment, when I ran down in my terror." + +"And she came out of the dining-room then?" + +"She did, sir. The little child--he is the heir now--ran out after +her." + +"Honour," said the surgeon, gravely and earnestly, "I do not fancy the +bent of your thought just now is a wholesome one. You had better put +it from you. I want you to come with me and tell your mistress about +the doors being fastened." + +He went out of the room, Honour following. In the passage outside, +suspiciously near to the door, was Prance. She made a feint of being +in a hurry, and was whisking down the backstairs. + +"Here, Prance, I want you," said the surgeon. "I was about to ask you +to come to me." + +The woman turned at once, quite readily, as it appeared, and quite +unruffled. She stood calm, cool, quiet, before Mr. Pym, in her neat +black gown and silk apron, the black ribbon strings of her close cap +tied underneath her chin. Not a shade of change was observable on her +impassive face, not the faintest hue of emotion lighted her pale, +sharp features. + +"This is a very dreadful thing, Prance," he began. + +"It is, indeed, sir," she answered in her measured tones, which, if +they had not any demonstrative feeling in them, had certainly no +irreverence. + +"How did the doors get fastened on the unfortunate boy?" + +Prance paused for about the hundredth part of a minute. "I was not +aware they were fastened, sir." And the answer appeared to be really +genuine. + +"Honour says they were. Upon returning from the kitchen, and +attempting to enter by this door"--pointing to the one still closed on +the miserable scene--"she found she could not enter. The inside button +had been turned during her absence below. Did you go into the nursery +yourself and fasten it? No one else, I believe, is in the habit of +frequenting the nursery but you and Honour." + +"I did not go, sir. I did not go into the nursery at all during the +afternoon. Master George was downstairs with his mamma, and I had +nothing to take me into it. If the button was turned in the manner +described, I should think Master Benja must have got upon a chair and +done it himself." + +Still the same impassive face; and still, it must be acknowledged, the +same air of truth. + +"That may be," remarked Mr. Pym. "The same thought had occurred +to me. But there's another point not so easily got over. Honour says +that the other door was also fastened, the one leading into the +dressing-room--was bolted on the outside." + +"I'm sure I don't know, sir," replied Prance; and this time there was +a shade of uncertainty, of hesitation, in her voice; not, however, +very perceptible to ordinary ears. "That door generally is kept +bolted," she added more freely, raising her eyes to the doctor's. "My +mistress took to keep it so, because Master George was always running +in while she was dressing." + +"But----" + +"Be quiet, Honour," said Mr. Pym, cutting short the interruption. "You +are in the habit of attending on your mistress, I believe, Prance, and +therefore are sometimes in her dressing-room," he continued. "Do you +remember whether that door was open today?" + +"No, sir, I don't," said Prance, after a minute's consideration. "I +dressed my mistress this morning for the early dinner, and put the +room straight afterwards, but I do not remember whether the door was +open or shut. I should think it was shut." + +"It was wide open this afternoon," burst forth Honour, unable to keep +quiet any longer, and believing Prance could remember if she chose. +"The poor dear child shut it with his own hands while I was finishing +his church." + +"Is it possible?" responded Prance, her perfect coolness of demeanour, +her propriety of tone, presenting a contrast to the excitement of the +miserable Honour. "I cannot remember how it was when I was dressing my +mistress, and I had nothing to do in the room after that." + +"And did not go into it?" pursued the surgeon. + +"And did not go into it?" repeated Prance. + +"Then you know nothing at all as to how the doors could have got +fastened?" proceeded Mr. Pym. + +"No, sir, I do not. I could take an oath, if need be, that I did not +know the doors were bolted until you spoke to me now," added the +woman, the least possible sound of emotion, arising as it seemed from +earnestness, at length perceptible in her tones. "I assure you, sir, I +had no idea of it until this moment. I--I should scarcely think it +could have been so." + +There was an ominous glare in Honour's eye at the expressed doubt. Mr. +Pym did not want a passage-at-arms between the two then, and raised +his hand to command silence. + +"Did you hear the child's cries, Prance?" he asked. "It is incredible +to suppose that he did not cry; and yet no one seems to have heard +him." + +"You mean when he was on fire, sir?" + +"Of course I mean when he was on fire." + +"I never heard them, sir. A child could not burn to death without +making cries, and desperate cries, but I did not hear them," she +continued, more in soliloquy than to the surgeon. "It is an +unfortunate thing that no one was within earshot." + +Honour looked keenly at her from her swollen eyes. Mr. Pym spoke +carelessly. + +"By the way, you were in the recess, Prance, just about the time. Did +you neither see nor hear anything then?" + +"In the recess, sir?" rejoined Prance, turning her impassive face full +on Mr. Pym in apparently the utmost astonishment. But not her eyes. "I +was in no recess, sir." + +"Yes you were. In that recess; there," pointing to it. "Honour passed +you when you were in it." + +"It is quite a mistake, sir. What should I do in the recess? If Honour +says she saw me there, her sight must have deceived her." + +"How do you account for your time at the period of the occurrence?" +inquired Mr. Pym. "What part of the house were you in?" + +"I suppose I must have been in the dining-room, sir," she answered +readily. "I was in there until just before the alarm was given, and +then I had come up to my bedroom." + +"Let's see. That is the room on the other side Mrs. St. John's +bedroom?" + +"Yes, sir; formerly my master's dressing-room. After his death, Mrs. +St. John placed me and Master George in it. She felt lonely with no +one sleeping near her." + +"And that's where you were when you heard the alarm?" + +"I was in there with the door shut when I heard Honour come screaming +along the passage, running towards the grand staircase. I had not been +in my room above a couple of minutes at the most. I had come straight +up from the dining-room." + +"And you did not go into the recess?" + +"Certainly not, sir. What object could I have in doing so? I'd rather +keep out of the place." + +Mr. Pym looked at Honour. His expression said plainly that he thought +she must have been mistaken. + +"What had you done with yourself all the afternoon?" he demanded of +Prance. + +"I was about in one place or another," she answered. "Part of the time +I was in the onion-room. I went there for a handful of a particular +herb I wanted, and stayed to pick the leaves from the stalks. And I +was twice in the dining-parlour with my mistress, and stayed there +pretty long each time." + +"Talking to her?" + +"No, sir, scarcely a word passed. My mistress rarely does talk much, +to me or to any of us, and she seemed a good deal put out with the +scene there was after dinner with Master Benja. Master George was put +out, too, in his little way, and I stayed in the room soothing him. My +mistress gave me a glass of wine then, and bade me drink the +children's health. I went in later a second time, and stayed longer +than the first, but I was waiting for Master George to awake that I +might bring him up to the nursery, for it was getting the children's +tea-time." + +"But you did not bring him?" + +"No, sir, he did not awake, and I got tired of waiting. I came +straight upstairs, and went into my room, and I had not been there two +minutes when Honour's cries broke out. I had not had time to strike a +match and light any candle, and when I ran out of the room to see what +was the matter, I had the match-box in my hand." + +This seemed to be as comprehensive an account as Prance could give; +and Mr. Pym himself saw no reason to doubt her. Honour did She had +done nothing but doubt the woman ever since she came to the house. +Honour believed her to be two-faced, thoroughly sly and artful; "a +very cat in deceit." But in a calmer moment even Honour might not have +brought herself to think that she would deliberately set fire to an +innocent child, or close the doors on him that he might burn to death. + +Again Mr. Pym went into the presence of Mrs. St. John, the two +servants with him. She looked more ghastly than before, and she was +sitting with Georgy on her lap, the child sick and trembling still. +Mr. Pym mentioned to her what Honour said about the doors being +fastened, asking if she could remember whether the one leading from +her dressing-room was open in the morning She answered at once--and +she spoke with the calmest and coldest self-possession, which seemed +as a very contrast to her ghastly face--that she could not say with +any certainty whether the dressing-room door was open that day or not. +She remembered quite well that she had unbolted it that same morning +while she was getting up, upon hearing the children's voices in the +nursery. She had gone in to kiss them and wish them happiness on their +birthday. Whether she had rebolted the door afterwards or not, she +could not say. She generally rebolted it when she had been that way +into the nursery, but it was possible she had not done so this +morning. "I wish you would not ask these questions," she concluded, +momentarily raising her eyes to Mr. Pym, for she had spoken with her +face bent down, almost hidden. + +"But I must ask them," said the surgeon. + +"It frightens George so," she added. "See how he is shivering." + +And in truth the child was shivering; shivering and trembling as one +in an ague. Almost as his mother spoke, he raised himself with a cry, +and was violently sick: and all Mr. Pym's attention had to be given to +him. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. +INVESTIGATION. + + +The inquest was held the day following the death. A somewhat hurried +arrangement; but in these small local places the convenience of the +coroner has to be studied. It happened that the county coroner was +coming to Alnwick that day to hold an inquest on a poor old man who +had been accidentally killed; and the Alnwick parish officials, +represented chiefly by the beadle, decided that the second inquest +should take place as soon as the first was over. + +It did so. The first was held at the workhouse, and was over and done +with in half-an-hour; the second was held at a public-house nearer the +Hall: the Carleton Arms. The same jury sworn for the other inquest, +attended for this one; and the witnesses were hurriedly collected +without any formal process of summons-serving. + +It was universally believed that the ill-fated little child had taken +the lighted church, in defiance of the nurse's injunction and had then +fastened the door to prevent her surprising him in his disobedience. +Honour's conviction alone protested against this; in silence, not +openly; she was weary of arguing against the stream. That he had taken +the church in his hands, she feared was too probable, but not that he +had fastened the door to conceal his disobedience. A more open, +honourable nature than his, child never possessed: he was always the +first to tell candidly of a fault; and she thought he would rather +have thrown wide the door that Honour might see him at his +disobedience, than close it against her. This, however, was not the +popular view of the case: _that_ was, that the child had taken the +dangerous toy in his hand, had slipped the button, not to be caught, +and then by some means set himself on fire; the remote distance at +which all the inmates of the Hall happened to be, just then, +preventing them from hearing his cries. + +The fastening of the dressing-room door, which was spoken of by +Honour, who was the principal witness, gave rise to some discussion. +Nothing could be clearer or more positive than her sworn testimony +that the dressing-room door was not fastened when she went downstairs, +and that it was fastened when she came up--bolted on the outer side. +The puzzle was, who had fastened it? No person whatever had been in +the rooms, so far as could be learned. Witnesses were examined on this +point, but nothing was elicited that could throw any light on the +affair. It was Honour's word against facts--facts so far as they +seemed to be known. The housemaid, whose duty it was to attend to Mrs. +St. John's rooms, proved that she had not been into them since the +morning. From the time of putting them to rights after breakfast, she +was not in the habit of again entering them until about seven o'clock +in the evening, after Mrs. St. John had dressed for dinner; neither +did she on this unfortunate day. The other servants said they had not +been upstairs at all: some wine had been given to them, and they were +making themselves comfortable below. Honour was with them, talking, +but not Prance. Prance was not downstairs, so far as the servants +knew, after she left the housekeeper's room at the conclusion of +dinner. Prance herself was called as a witness, and accounted for her +time. Had gone into the dining-room whilst her mistress was at dessert +with Master George, she said, Honour having then taken Master St. John +upstairs. Had stayed there some little time. Her mistress had given +her a glass of wine. She (witness) said that she had already taken a +glass downstairs, but her mistress answered that she could no doubt +take another. She did so, drinking to the two young gentlemen's +health. After that, went upstairs to her room; stayed there some time, +doing a bit of work for herself, and putting up Master George's +morning things, which she had not had time to see to after dressing +him to dine with his mamma. Yes, she said in answer to a question from +the coroner, this room was very near the dressing-room; Mrs. St. +John's bedroom only dividing them; but could swear most positively +that she did not go into the dressing-room. She entered no room +whatever except this, her own. + +A juryman interrupted with a question. Where was deceased at this +time? + +With Honour in the nursery, the witness answered. It was then that the +paper toy, spoken to, was being finished and lighted up--as the Hall +had learnt subsequently. Afterwards, witness continued, pursuing her +evidence, she had gone downstairs into the onion-room, as it was +called, a place where herbs were kept; had stayed there some time, +getting an herb she wanted, and plucking its leaves from the stalks. +Then-- + +Another juryman interrupted, a worthy grocer and oilman, with whom the +Hall dealt. What might witness have wanted with the herb? + +The witness replied, with exemplary patience and the impressive manner +that always characterized her, that she occasionally took a decoction +of this herb medicinally. The cook was in the habit of preparing it +for her, but when it was left entirely to that functionary, as much +stalk as leaf was put in, and the decoction suffered in consequence; +therefore she liked to pluck it herself. + +Very good, the juryman answered She could go on with her evidence. + +After preparing the proper quantity of herb, had taken it to the +scullery and laid it on what was called the cook's shelf. Did not see +any of the servants except the under-housemaid, who was lighting up +the lower passages, but heard their voices in conversation. Could not +tell whether the under-housemaid saw her; thought not. Went then into +the dining-room, to ask if she should not take Master George, as it +was getting the hour for the nursery tea. Did not take Master George. +He was asleep in the large chair. Waited some time, hoping he would +wake; but he did not. At last got tired of waiting, and left the +dining-room, Master George still asleep, with his feet on his mamma's +lap. Went straight upstairs then, and was about to get a light in her +own room, when she heard alarming cries from Honour. Could only see +the outline of her form as she flew along the corridor to the grand +staircase. The upper part of the house had not been lighted up, only +the lower, and a very faint reflection came upstairs. The cries were +alarming, full of terror. Witness was frightened, and it was not a +little thing that frightened her. Ran down after Honour, and saw Mrs. +St. John come out of the dining-room, frightened also at the cries. +For the next few minutes could not give a precise account of what +happened. The chief thing she remembered was running back with others +to the nursery. Poor little Master George also went. He stole up +unnoticed in the confusion, and saw what was left of his brother +burning, or, rather, smouldering. That was all she knew. + +Mrs. St. John was not called as a witness. Having been shut up--as was +understood--the whole of the time in the dining-room with little +George, her evidence could not be of importance, and the jury had +respect to her feelings and did not call her. It was announced to the +jury that she freely acknowledged having gone from her dressing-room +into the nursery in the morning, and that it was very possible she had +omitted to fasten the door afterwards. That, however, was of no +consequence: the door had been left open as Honour had proved: by whom +did not matter. + +All the evidence was taken, and a discussion ensued in regard to the +point not cleared up, the fastening of this door. Half the jury, +including Mr. Pym, inclined to the view that it had not been bolted at +all, only shut; but that Honour's state of haste and agitation had +prevented her getting the door open at the first moment, and caused +her to fancy that it was fastened. The other half of the jury +including the coroner, thought that when the unfortunate little child +had pushed-to the door in obedience to Honour, the bolt had shot into +the groove with the movement: and this appeared the more reasonable +solution. In vain Honour protested that neither was correct: that the +door _was_ bolted, and that it _could not_ have bolted itself when the +child closed it; he shut it very gently, and she must have heard the +movement had there been any. She might as well have talked to the +wind: and to her excessive surprise Mr. Pym approached her with a +stern whisper and a warning look. + +"I wouldn't say any more about this, Honour." + +Will it be believed that Mrs. Darling only heard of this calamity when +the jury were sitting? Living some distance on the other side of +Alnwick, news did not at all times penetrate quickly to her house. At +any rate, _this_ had not done so: reversing for once the popular +saying that ill news travels fast. Mrs. St. John had omitted to send +to her--perhaps it was excusable in the dreadful confusion--and it was +a positive fact that the inquest was being held before the tidings +were carried to Mrs. Darling. + +She might not have heard it even then, but that she happened to send a +servant into the village to execute a commission, and the maid brought +back the news. As is usual in such cases, she ran open-mouthed with it +to her mistress. Mrs. Darling, who had been feeling very poorly ever +since the previous day, and was saying to herself that if no better on +the following one she should send for Mr. Pym, was lying on the sofa, +when the door abruptly opened, and the servant burst in with the news, +her very haste rendering her incoherent. Mrs. Darling started from the +sofa in terror, only half comprehending. + +"_What_ do you say has happened, Cole?" + +"One of the little boys is killed," spoke up the servant eagerly. "Oh, +ma'am, it's true! He was killed last night, and they are already +holding the inquest on him. It was the heir, Master Benja." + +Almost as one turned to stone, stood Mrs. Darling. If ever woman +looked in awful fear, it was she. She could not speak at first: she +only gazed at the maid-servant, her lips apart, her eyes wild. + +"Killed! Master Benja!" she gasped. + +"He was burnt to death," cried the woman, with sobs of emotion. "I +don't know the rights of it, though the place is full of nothing else; +some said one thing and some another. Any way, the fault was Honour's. +She left him alone with a lighted candle, and he set himself on fire. +There is a tale that somebody fastened the doors upon him to let him +burn; but you know, ma'am, it can't be true. Not a bit of business is +doing at Alnwick, and most of the shops have a shutter or two up. The +inquest is on now, at the Carleton Arms." + +With a prolonged shudder, Mrs. Darling seemed to come to herself. "How +is it that I was not sent for?" she asked: and though the servant took +the question to herself, and answered that she did not know, it was +evident that it was not put to her. + +All her indisposition forgotten, her bodily pain no longer felt in the +greater mental pain, Mrs. Darling put on her cloak and bonnet and went +out. The maid remonstrated that she was not fit to walk; wished her to +at least wait until a fly could be sent for: she was as one who heard +not. Striking into the field-path, by which means she avoided the +gossiping village--and she was in no mood for it then, Mrs. Darling +emerged from the fields almost close to Alnwick Hall, just below the +Carleton Arms. Had there been any way to avoid passing the inn, Mrs. +Darling had surely chosen it: but there was none. As she came within +view of it, and saw the idlers congregated around it in small groups, +a sick feeling of dread took possession of her, and she shuddered as +she had done in her own drawing-room. Dread of what? Perhaps Mrs. +Darling could not precisely have defined what: but she did think it +would be a mercy had the earth opened and let her through to the +opposite side of the globe, away from all trouble and care. + +Not a word did she speak to any one, not a question ask. She drew her +veil over her face, pulled her cloak more closely around her, and was +hastening on, looking neither to the right nor to the left, when she +nearly ran against Mr. Pym the surgeon, who had just strolled outside +from the heat and bustle of the crowded inquest-room. + +"Is it you, Mrs. Darling?" + +"What _is_ all this?" was the rejoinder of Mrs. Darling, throwing back +her veil for a moment, and then seeming to recollect herself, and +putting it down again. "Is Benja really dead?" + +"Really dead!" echoed Mr. Pym. "He has been dead since yesterday +evening. Had you not heard of it?" + +"I never heard a word until half-an-hour ago. What was it? How was it +done?" + +"Honour left him alone in the nursery with some paper toy that had a +candle in it. When she got back he was burnt to death." + +Mr. Pym was speaking strangely, in a cold, hard sort of manner; and, +instead of looking at Mrs. Darling, his eyes were directed straight +over her head. + +"Then it was an accident," said Mrs. Darling, after a pause. + +"That will no doubt be the verdict of the jury." + +The two stood in silence. Mr. Pym with his far-away gaze, Mrs. Darling +stealing surreptitious glances at him through her veil. Presently she +spoke, scarcely above a whisper. + +"What tale is it that people have got hold of, about the child being +locked in the room?" + +"Ah," said Mr. Pym, "that's Honour's tale. She says that when she left +the boy, to go downstairs, the nursery doors were unbolted; that when +she returned, both were fastened. _Her_ theory is, implied if not +avowed, that the doors had been deliberately closed upon the burning +child." + +Mrs. Darling turned her face away. She was as little given as any one +to betraying signs of emotion, but the eyes, for all they were not +looking at her, saw that the face was turning livid. + +"It can't be true," she whispered. + +"As I tell Honour. Are you going to the Hall? Most of its inmates are +here, at the inquest." + +"Charlotte is not here!" exclaimed Mrs. Darling, turning to him in +what looked like alarm. + +"No. The jury dispense with her evidence." + +"Is--is--little Benja here?" + +Mr. Pym shook his head. "The coroner and jury went up to look at the +remains, and adjourned here. It is a dreadful thing; _very_ dreadful." + +At the emphasized word, a sound, that was as much like a groan as +anything, escaped Mrs. Darling's lips. The surgeon turned towards the +inn door, she continued her way. Striking into the avenue amongst the +fine old park trees, she threw back her veil where no eye was on her, +gasping as it seemed for air in the twilight of the coming night. + +A servant answered her summons, and she walked straight through the +hall to a small sitting-room, where the man said he believed his +mistress was. She went in gently, not to disturb her: but Mrs. St. +John was standing still in the midst of the room in an attitude of +breathless expectation; of what looked like terrified expectation; and +unless the darkness of the evening deceived her, Mrs. Darling had +never seen her face so intensely pale, or with that haggard look upon +it. + +"Charlotte!" + +"Is it you, mamma? I thought you were ill." + +"I was ill; ill for me, who never ail anything. But +this--this---- What's that?" + +Mrs. Darling sprang aside. A heap of something covered over on the +sofa had startled her. Surely her nerves were unstrung tonight! + +"It's Georgy," answered Mrs. St. John. "He has been ill since +yesterday. Hush! don't wake him." + +She took off her cloak and untied her bonnet, and sat down by the fire +near her daughter. Mrs. St. John did not speak. + +"Charlotte, I have been dreadfully shocked. You should not have +allowed me to hear of this by accident. How did it happen?" + +"You must ask Honour that." + +"Was no one with him? Could no one hear his cries?" + +"It seems not." + +"Will you not give me the details, Charlotte?" + +"I only know them from hearsay." + +"But you--were--in the house at the time?" + +"I was in the dining-room." + +Mrs. St. John was evidently not inclined to be communicative. She sat +looking at the fire, and Mrs. Darling stole surreptitious glances at +her face, as she had recently done at Mr. Pym's; not that the face was +very discernible in the increasing gloom of the November evening. + +"Do give me the particulars, Charlotte!" + +"I can't, I tell you, mamma. I only know them myself from hearsay. I +was shut up in the dining-room with Georgy, and knew nothing until +startled by Honour's cries." + +"You were shut up in the dining-room!" + +"Just as you found me shut up in this room now. Georgy was asleep, and +I had his feet on my lap. I wish you wouldn't ask me about it. It is +not a pleasant thing to talk of. I am sorry now for having beaten +him." + +"You beat him?--Benja?" + +"He was naughty after dinner. He had a new watch, and would not lend +it to Georgy, and they got quarrelling. He beat Georgy, and I beat +_him_. I am sorry for it now." + +"But it was not then that he was burnt!" exclaimed Mrs. Darling, +scarcely understanding. + +"No. Honour took him away, and I stayed in the dining room with +Georgy." + +"Did the accident happen immediately?" + +"Not for a long while. Two hours, perhaps, I don't know how long +exactly. I had been to sleep. It was daylight when he went away, and +it was dark when we heard the screams." + +"And you, my poor child, had never moved from the dining-room!" + +"Don't I say so, mamma!" came the answer, a shade of peevishness at +being questioned in the otherwise impassive tone. "I had kept Georgy +with me." + +Mrs. Darling drew a long sigh: it seemed like a relief from some +nightmare. "How came Honour to leave him with a lighted candle?" she +exclaimed in anger. + +"Mamma, I _wish_ you would not ask me these things! I don't care to +talk of them." + +For some minutes there was silence, but Mrs. Darling was an impulsive +woman, and it was almost impossible for her to think of any fresh +point without breaking out with a question. She did so now; suddenly, +abruptly. + +"Is it true that the doors were fastened?" + +"Who told you they were?" exclaimed Mrs. St. John. + +"Mr. Pym. I saw him as I came up here." + +"Mr. Pym told you the doors were fastened?" repeated Mrs. St. John, +fixing her strange eyes upon her mother. + +"Yes. At least---- What he said was, that Honour asserts they were +fastened." + +"Ay, _that's_ true. But no one believes her. Mr. Pym does not believe +her; he told her she must be careful what she said. Prance thinks +Honour was so flurried at the time, that her recollection is not +clear." + +Again there was a pause. Mrs. St. John sat as before, gazing at +the fire, her haggard face--yes, it certainly was unnaturally +haggard--bent on her hand. Mrs. Darling seemed buried in perplexity, +and her fingers unconsciously smoothed down her bonnet-strings. Georgy +stirred in his sleep, and they both looked at the sofa; but he did not +awake, and both were silent for a moment. + +"Is the inquest over, do you know?" asked Mrs. St. John. + +"It was not when I came past. Charlotte, have you written to Castle +Wafer?" + +"I have not written to any one. Surely there's time enough!" + +"My dear, I did not mean to anger you. I---- What's this? They must be +coming back from the inquest!" + +The noise of many steps outside had called forth the interruption. +Mrs. St. John rose from her seat and stood in the middle of the room, +facing the door; waiting defiantly, as it seemed, to confront any who +might enter. It was just the same position, the same look that had +surprised Mrs. Darling when she arrived. The butler came in. + +"The verdict is 'Accidental Death,'" he said. "Appended to which was a +severe censure on Honour Tritton for leaving the child alone with so +dangerous a toy. And ma'am," he emphatically added to his mistress, +"she deserves it: and she seems to think so." + +The mistress of Alnwick sat down again. Mrs. Darling caught up her +cloak and went out of the room, her curiosity on the rack for the sad +details withheld by her daughter. + +Honour did seem to think she deserved the censure, as the butler had +observed. Fully, fully had her repentant heart echoed the condemnation +of the jury. A never-dying remorse had taken up its abode within her. +Mrs. Darling came upon her on the staircase. The girl's face looked +flushed, her eyes glistening; and there was a wildness in their +expression that spoke of incipient fever, had any been at leisure to +note the signs, or been capable of understanding them. + +"Oh Honour! what an awful thing this is!" breathed Mrs. Darling. + +"It's more than awful," answered Honour. "I suppose I shall get over +it sometime, if I live: I don't know. Perhaps God will be pleased to +take me." + +She spoke almost with the unnatural calmness of her mistress. That +alone would have told of something mentally wrong, or becoming so. + +"Honour--indeed I don't wish to reproach you, for I'm sure your pain +must be too great to need it; but I must speak--_how_ could you leave +the child alone with that lighted candle?" + +"Will you see him?--what's left of him?" was the rejoinder. And +without waiting for reply, Honour went into the nursery. Something was +resting there on trestles with a sheet thrown over it. Whether it was +a coffin, whether it was not, Mrs. Darling did not stay to inquire. +She arrested Honour's hand. + +"No," she said. "I don't know that I could bear the sight." + +Honour dropped the corner of the sheet again. "Well," she said, "he is +there; my darling treasure that was dearer to me than anything in +life. They were beating him black and blue in the dining-room, and I +brought him out, and I finished the paper toy to soothe and comfort +his poor little sobbing heart, and I did leave him alone with it, the +candle lighted inside it. If I ever forget my folly, or cease to mourn +for it in repentance, I hope God will forget me. But, I am not the +sole author of his death; Mrs. Darling, I am _not_. Those who came and +fastened the doors upon him, and so let him burn, are more guilty of +it than me." + +"Hush, Honour! You were mistaken. The doors could not have been so +fastened." + +Honour laid her hand upon the sheet again, touching what was beneath +it. + +"Mrs. Darling, don't _you_ be deceived. Some do not believe what I +say, and some are wishing to hush the matter up. I swear that it was +as I assert: I swear it by _this_, all that's left of him. They say +Benja must have buttoned the one door himself; let it go so: I don't +think he did, but let it go so: but he could not have bolted the other +on the outside. They are hushing the matter up; and I must do the +same: I am only one against many." + +"Who is hushing it up?" asked Mrs. Darling, from between her white +lips. + +"Mr. Pym, for one. I say nothing about others, I am only one amongst +them. From this time I shall drop the matter, and speak of it no more: +but I should like you to remember what I say, and to believe me. It is +the truth. Heaven knows it is. The doors were fastened upon him, and +he was left there--in a living tomb--to burn to death. When the facts +come to light, as they will sometime, if there's justice in the world, +we shall learn the truth. At present I don't pretend to understand +it." + +Mrs. Darling felt frightened at the girl's words, at her resolute +manner (her impassiveness had now changed to passion), at her hectic +cheeks and wild eyes--all the symptoms of threatening fever or +insanity. She quitted the room, retaining a last glimpse of Honour's +throwing herself beside the trestles in a burst of anguish, and sought +Prance. Scarcely able to speak from an agitation which she vainly +endeavoured to suppress, Mrs. Darling commanded Prance to furnish her +with the particulars, to the minutest detail. + +Prance obeyed without the slightest hesitation, her account differing +in no wise from the one she had just given to the coroner and jury. +Mrs. Darling questioned her as to the alleged fastening of the doors: +Prance maintained that the one door, at any rate, had been fastened in +Honour's fancy only. It was possible, nay probable, that the poor +little boy had himself fastened the one; but as to the other, nothing +but Honour's haste (as she, Prance, believed) had prevented her +opening it. "The fact is," concluded Prance, "Honour was half +paralyzed with fear at the time, through smelling the burning; and she +has been as one mad ever since." + +"And your mistress was shut up, I hear, in the dining-room all the +time with little George." + +"Oh yes," said Prance, "and the servants were shut up downstairs. +Nobody could have gone near the room. If that door was fastened, why, +the bolt must have slipped as well as the latch when the child closed +it," added Prance. "The coroner and jury thought so." + +Mrs. Darling sighed in very perplexity. She could not get over +Honour's positive and solemn assertion; but it seemed equally +impossible to believe any one had been near the door to bolt it. This +last suggestion, that the bolt had slipped, was a welcome one, and +Mrs. Darling would have given half her remaining lifetime to have been +able fully to believe in it. + +There went forth another announcement in the local papers, Mrs. +Darling wording it. + +"Died, on St. Martin's Eve, at Alnwick Hall, on his fifth birthday, +Benjamin Carleton St. John, eldest son and heir of the late George +Carleton St. John, Esquire." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. +HONOUR'S RAVINGS. + + +It needed not many days for Honour Tritton to be in a fever, +accompanied by delirium, the symptoms of which had been plainly +showing themselves. Mr. Pym pronounced it a malady of the brain, +brought on by grief, horror, and remorse. It would prolong her stay at +the Hall, for she could not be removed; otherwise Mrs. St. John had +given her notice to quit it as soon as the funeral was over. Mrs. St. +John had taken a shuddering dislike to her. The word is used +advisedly. Once or twice, when she met Honour in the corridors, she +was seized with a fit of shuddering that affected her whole frame. +Freely she avowed that she could not bear the sight of the girl; but +for her, she said, Benja would be still living. But when the girl was +taken ill they could not turn her out; and Honour lay in bed, in the +room that had been hers and Benja's. The pretty rosewood cot, shorn +for ever of its occupant, was yet in the corner. At first she was not +dangerously ill; hot and feverish, and a little excited at times; but +not in danger. It was the day before the funeral that she took to her +bed. + +Mrs. St. John seemed more affected by the death than was apparent to +ordinary observers. Not a shade of emotion had been seen on her +impassive face; not a tear, so far as any one could trace, had been +shed. But that she was grievously affected by it, those about her saw +plainly. A species of nervousness--if the word may be applied to one +so outwardly calm--seemed to have taken possession of her. She was +ever brooding on the dreadful event; she was afraid to go about the +house alone after dark; not all the cordage of a seventy-gun ship +would have dragged her into the dressing-room, for it was next to the +nursery where Benja was lying. She chiefly sat nursing George, who was +ill still--remaining for an hour or two intensely calm and quiet, then +starting up and pacing the room violently, as if unable to bear her +own reflections--her grief for Benja. "My dear, be still, be calm," +Mrs. Darling remonstrated one afternoon as she paced the room with +wild steps. "All the sorrow in the world cannot bring him back: in a +little time, if you can only realize it, you will gather comfort from +the fact that he is better off." "Mamma, I would _hang_ Honour Tritton +if I could!" was the only answer. + +What Mrs. St. John would have done without her mother at this time, it +was impossible to tell; though perhaps, had necessity imposed it on +her, she might have been aroused to exert herself. Mrs. Darling, +forgetting her own ailments, and she was feeling really ill, took +everything upon herself, and _had_ to do it. It was she who wrote +letters to apprise friends of the calamity; it was she who made +arrangements for the funeral: Charlotte would take neither act nor +part in it. Mrs. Darling did what she could to amuse her daughter, and +divert her mind from the fatal night. She talked to her of family +interests, she read letters to her from her daughter Margaret, who was +in Berkshire; she enlarged upon the letters from her son Frank. There +had been some trouble or escapade, or something unpleasant with Rose, +during his visit to Belport in the autumn, she said, but she could not +get to the bottom of it, and perhaps never should: she expected it all +arose from Rose's rebellion at being kept at school. These, and +similar topics, did Mrs. Darling pursue; but her daughter was as one +who heard not. It might, in fact, be questioned whether she did hear; +and if she answered it was only mechanically. + +The day of the funeral arrived, and friends and relatives came from +far and near to follow to his last resting-place the ill-fated little +heir of Alnwick. As it had been in the days when George St. John died, +so it was again. Mr. St. John of Castle Wafer was too ill to attend, +but Frederick St. John came down from London in his place. Captain +Darling also came. Neither of them stayed beyond the day, and they +agreed to travel back to town together. Indeed, none of the guests +were asked to remain: the Hall was not in a mood for welcoming +visitors just now. + +Mrs. Darling took the opportunity of asking her son what the hinted +escapade of Rose's might have been; but he only laughed it off, and +did not explain. _He_ had corrected her for it, he said, and he didn't +think she would attempt a second. + +So the child was laid in the vault with his father and his poor young +mother, whose life he had cost; and the train of mourners and +attendants returned to the Hall, and then dispersed, none of them, +Captain Darling excepted, having seen Alnwick's mistress. Something +had been said about little Georgy--now the heir--going to the funeral; +but it was decided that he was too young. And besides, he was not +well. + +There was estrangement still between Isaac St. John and his brother; +but the aspect of affairs had changed, and Isaac, on his part, would +have been all too willing to be reconciled. Lady Anne St. John was on +the point of marriage with Captain Saville, who had unexpectedly come +into a large inheritance. Anne confessed all to Isaac. How there had +been a secret understanding between her and Captain Saville, and +Frederick was keeping league with them, and to screen Anne, taking on +himself the blame of refusing to marry her. Isaac St. John would then +have been reconciled to his brother. He did not make any decisive move +towards it, but he allowed his wishes to become known to Frederick +through Mrs. St. John. Mr. Frederick, however, had a spice of +obstinacy in his composition, and chose to hold on his own way. He had +recently come into some money through an aunt, and this he was +applying to liquidating his own debts, living meanwhile quietly in +London, and spending all his time at his favourite art--painting. + +The day of the funeral came to an end. Everything had passed off +quietly, without undue bustle and agitation, which might perhaps have +been expected under the circumstances of the case. Little George had +burst into wailing sobs when the mourning carriages came back to the +Hall, saying he wanted Benja. They told him Benja was gone to heaven +to be happy for ever, and to play upon a golden harp. But the child +still cried bitterly. Captain Darling carried him out on the slopes, +and in due time brought him back soothed; having entered upon some +magnificent promises touching a live pony, when the young gentleman +should have grown as tall as Benja was. + +On the following morning Mrs. St. John was to leave the Hall for a +time. It was her own proposition, but Mrs. Darling seconded it. At +first she was only going to the cottage, her mother's residence; later +she would take Georgy to some watering-place, and return to the Hall +for Christmas. + +You cannot keep gossiping tongues still. Since the inquest, a great +deal of discussion had taken place as to the disputed question of the +dressing-room door. In the Hall, and out of it for miles, it formed +the theme of conversation, and speculation was rife as to the real +truth. Once establish the fact of the door's having been _previously_ +bolted, and there was an end to all mystery. Honour's unwavering +assertion that it was bolted when she arrived, made weight gradually +and silently; the almost as indisputable fact that no one had been +near to bolt it received full credence; and the solution gradually +arrived at was, that when the little boy had closed the door, the bolt +had slipped. It appeared to be the only feasible explanation. The more +it was talked of and dwelt upon, the more certain did it appear, and +by the day of the funeral it was received as an undoubted fact. Mr. +Pym so received it; Mrs. Darling spoke of it as a discovery, not a +supposition. Even Honour, weak, ill, and miserable, was brought to +acknowledge that such might have been the case. + +"What a mercy that it's cleared up!" cried Mrs. Darling to her +daughter. "It was so very unpleasant to have any mystery connected +with it: the event was unhappy enough in itself, without that. We can +so far dismiss the unpleasantness from our minds now, Charlotte." + +Mrs. Darling intended to return to the cottage with her daughter. She +was busy in her room after breakfast on the morning of departure, +putting together the few things which had been sent over for her use +from home, when one of the housemaids happened to mention that Honour +was worse, and "saying queer things." + +"What queer things?" asked Mrs. Darling, in the midst of folding a +crape collar. + +"Oh, ma'am, about the accident; about the bolting of the door, that +there has been so much talk over----" + +"The door bolted itself when Honour caused it to be closed; it has +been conclusively decided so," sharply interrupted Mrs. Darling. + +"I know it has, ma'am," replied the maid. "But Honour is off her head, +and does not know what she is saying. She has been raving about her +mistress, fancying she's at the bedside, and asking her whether _she_ +did not bolt the doors on Master Benja when he was burning, or whether +she set him on fire? It's dreadful to hear her, poor thing." + +If ever a sudden change was seen in a woman, you might have seen it +then in Mrs. Darling. Her ruddy, good-humoured countenance assumed the +hue it had worn when shunning Mr. Pym's look that night before the +Carleton Arms--though for the matter of that, he had equally shunned +hers. + +"I'll go to her," she said, presently. "Poor creature, she must be +quite mad! I'll go and see what can be done for her. Perhaps a +strait-waistcoat will be necessary." + +Accordingly Mrs. Darling made her way along the corridor. Crouching +against the nursery-door, as she turned the corner, was what at first +looked like a huge black balloon. It proved to be the petticoats of +her daughter, who appeared to be listening to something in the +nursery. + +"Charlotte!" + +Mrs. St. John lifted her scared face: a white face, not so much of +terror as of some great anguish, with wild eyes gazing from it. Softly +rising, she spoke in a whisper. + +"I can hear his cries--_his_. I heard them last night, all night +long." + +Mrs. Darling's heart leaped, as the saying runs, into her mouth. Was +_she_ going mad--was every one going mad? + +"Listen! There it is again!" + +"Charlotte, my dear child, you cannot be well this morning. These +troubles have unhinged you. When you----" + +Mrs. Darling suddenly stopped, and began to feel a little "unhinged" +herself. There certainly was a sound within the room; a repetition of +faint whining or moaning. + +"I knew they could never take him out of it!" whispered Mrs. St. John. +"Hark! But his cries were louder then." + +Mrs. Darling looked at her. Could she be succumbing to superstitious +fears? Mrs. Darling hardly thought it possible, being herself so very +practical a woman, in contradistinction to an imaginative one. She no +more believed in ghosts than she did in the spirits recently become +fashionable: and she opened the nursery-door very gingerly and peeped +in. + +It was the dog Brave. Poor Brave must have found his way into the room +on the previous day, on the removal of the coffin, and had been shut +in ever since. Not barking, not making any noise to attract attention, +simply sitting there under the trestles, whining and crying. There had +been some trouble with Brave since the death: he would find his way +into the corridor, and there howl and moan. + +"See, Charlotte!" said Mrs. Darling, in reassuring tones. "Poor dumb +creature!" + +Deeming it well that her daughter _should_ see, as the most effectual +antidote to any such fears as those alluded to above, she gently took +her arm to pull her forward. Charlotte drew back in sudden fear. + +"I _can't_ look!" she gasped. "You dare not force me! Is he walking +about with the lighted church?" + +"Oh, Charlotte, do, do just glance in! You are not yourself, I +see"--and poor Mrs. Darling looked as terrified as her, as _she_ was +looking at the door. "It is only poor Brave; he must have been shut in +here." + +She threw the door open, went in, and drove out the dog. Mrs. St. John +stood against the wall as it passed her, carefully avoiding all sight +of the chamber. Her mood changed to anger when she saw Brave. + +"I gave orders that he should not be allowed to enter the +house--that he should be kept chained up in the stables--sent +away--sold--anything. How dare they disobey me!" + +Mrs. Darling put her daughter's arm within her own and led her to her +own chamber. "I will see that the dog does not annoy you again, +Charlotte. Lie on the sofa and keep yourself quiet: we shall be ready +to go in half-an-hour." + +Closing the door on Charlotte, she proceeded to Honour's chamber at +the end of the passage. The girl was in bed, lying in all the +restlessness of delirium. Her head was turning from side to side, her +face was flushed, her speech rambled. Mrs. Darling involuntarily asked +herself whether the whinings of the dog through the night in the +adjoining chamber, which must have penetrated to Honour's ears, had +contributed to this increase of the malady. + +No less than three maid-servants were posted round the bed, staring, +listening, whispering. The sound of Mrs. Darling's entrance seemed to +attract the attention of the patient, who looked momentarily towards +her; but the ominously-bright eyes evidently saw nothing: they turned +to the opposite wall, gazing, as it were, beyond it. The words that +escaped from her lips--not consecutively as they are about to be +written, but by fits and snatches--startled Mrs. Darling as few things +had ever startled her in all her life before. They were equivalent to +accusing her mistress of the _murder_ of her stepson. + +"He was the heir, you see, sir," she said, addressing some imaginary +personage; "he was keeping her own flesh and blood out of the +inheritance. I saw all along that it was more than she could bear. +Don't you remember the scene that day when you came home from London, +and we took the two children to meet you in the park? You took up +Benja and carried him in, but the little one cried and we left him. +Don't you remember it, sir?--she struck Benja to the ground and +bruised him. _You_ said it was an accident, but I knew better. Oh, +sir, why did you leave him under her charge? Wasn't it as well to make +your will one way as the other?" + +She was evidently in the past, and he whom she was addressing in +imagination, was her dead master. + +"It was so easy to accomplish!" went on Honour, her head turning +faster than ever, but her eyes fixed as before. "It was only the +running up the stairs from the dining-room, where she was shut in, and +setting fire to him, and bolting the doors on his screams, and running +back again. Oh, why did you leave him to her? Didn't you remember that +he was keeping out Georgy? She says she never left the dining-room, +but don't you believe her. She _did_, and I can speak to it." + +Mrs. Darling, who had been slowly gathering her presence of mind, and +could not do it all at once, turned her ashy countenance on the gaping +servants. Perhaps she hardly knew what to say, or how to treat the +ravings. + +"It is a very bad case of brain fever," she said, striving to speak +with unconcern. "Her mind is quite gone, poor thing,"--as indeed it +was. "I had a governess once who suffered under an attack of the same. +She persisted that I had killed my youngest daughter, Miss Rose +Darling, and all the time the child was alive and well at her elbow. +The two cases seem precisely similar. Go down, will you? I think the +room ought to be kept quiet: and send one of the men instantly to +hasten Mr. Pym." + +They filed out of the room in obedience, and Mrs. Darling sat down to +remain, thinking, poor woman, that her lines were hard just now. She +sat there until the doctor entered. + +"Ah, ha," said he, "so the brain's touched in earnest. I thought it +would be so." + +"She is quite deranged, Mr. Pym; she has been saying the strangest +things." + +"What things?" + +Mrs. Darling turned the question off "All sorts of nonsense," she +said, coughing. "Mr. Pym, I think I shall stop here and nurse her +myself. She is too ill to be left to servants." + +"And let Mrs. St. John go alone?" + +"I think I must. Prance will be with her, and she will have her child. +Perhaps in a few hours Honour may be better." + +Mr. Pym had drawn nearer to the bed. Honour was wandering again; was +repeating again the same "nonsense," as Mrs. Darling had called it. +Alas! she must go on repeating it until some turn to the malady came. +The excited brain had its task to perform, and could only go over it, +over it, over it, until better moments should dawn. The surgeon +listened and heard as much as Mrs. Darling had heard. + +"Yes," said he, "it may be as well that you should nurse her. Servants +are such gossips." + +"Three of them were in, listening, just now. Mr. Pym, how is it that +these false notions take possession of an invalid's brain?" asked Mrs. +Darling. + +Mr. Pym paused before he replied. "How is it that dreams take +possession of it?" he returned. "The girl has had an awful shock, and +the brain is suffering. The imagination is apt to be erratic at these +times, indulging in absurd and fantastic fancies." + +"Very absurd and fantastic in this case!" pronounced Mrs. Darling. +"Well, I shall stay with her. It must be either myself or Prance." + +"Prance won't do," said the surgeon. "She and Honour hate each other +like poison." + +The plan was carried out. Mrs. St. John, her child, and Prance +departed for the cottage; Mrs. Darling remained at the Hall in +attendance on Honour; and Mr. Pym did hardly anything but dodge in +and out of it all day, walking to and from Alnwick at the pace of a +steam-engine. Honour was dangerously ill. + +In the dusk of evening, when the house was quiet, and Mrs. Darling sat +by the bedside, her brain almost as busy as the one she was there to +guard, the thought arose to her that she would put at rest (as far as +it could be put to rest) a question that troubled her. In closing the +nursery-door quietly--as it had been represented the unfortunate child +did close it--would the bolt slip into its groove? Was it possible +that it could do so? Mrs. Darling had pondered the doubt that day more +than she would have cared to tell. Rising from her chair, she was +about to cross the room when some one came in. + +"Who's that?" sharply called out Mrs. Darling, somewhat startled. + +It was only one of the under-maids, bringing in some beef-tea in a +cup. "How quietly you must have come up!" exclaimed Mrs. Darling. + +"I have list shoes on, ma'am," replied the girl. + +She put down the cup and advanced on tiptoe to take a glance at +Honour. The fever still continued, the brain was still at work; but +just now the head was quiet. + +"She seems a trifle better!" cried the girl. + +"I fear not in mind," answered Mrs. Darling. "Her last fancy seems to +be that _she_ set fire to the child, and then ran away and left him." + +"Poor creature! Well, so in a manner she did, ma'am, for it was +through her want of caution that it happened." + +The girl gazed a few minutes and went down. Mrs. Darling--by +the way, was that last assertion of hers a true one or a flight of +fancy?--listened to the receding footsteps. She thought she heard them +come back again, those or others, but silence supervened, and she +concluded she was mistaken. + +Now or never! She did want to try that door, and the opportunity +seemed favourable: for she would not for the whole world, no, nor for +ten worlds, suffer it to be known that any doubt could enter her mind, +or any one's mind, upon the point. Quitting Honour's room, she stepped +to the nursery-door, and there--paused. + +What feeling came over Mrs. Darling at the moment she could never +afterwards tell. Had she been of a superstitious nature it might have +been accounted for; but she was not. Some feeling or impulse, however, +did cause her to walk away from the door without entering, and go on +to the dressing-room, intending to see if she could try the experiment +from that side. As she quitted it she could have declared she heard a +chair move within, only that she knew she must be mistaken. + +She went with soft tread across the dressing-room carpet in the +twilight of the evening. The door stood half open; to her surprise; +for since the fatal night it had been kept rigidly shut. She was about +to pull it to, when it was closed from the other side, pretty smartly. +In her consternation she opened it at once, and--stood face to face +with Surgeon Pym. He had been trying the experiment on his own score. + +Their eyes met; and it was curious to note the difference in the +demeanour of the two as they stood gazing at each other. Mrs. Darling, +agitated, nervous, almost terrified; the surgeon, collected, keen, +perfectly self-possessed. She tried to frame an excuse. + +"I was going to look into the nursery, to see whether the servants +have set it to rights today. I fancy they have not." + +"And I," said the surgeon, "was seeing whether the bolt would slip if +a person merely shut the door. I find it won't." + + +Honour Tritton's ravings, the effect of a diseased brain, ceased with +her recovery; and there remained with her no recollection whatever of +having uttered them, for Mr. Pym tested her on the point. With her +restoration to reason, Mrs. Darling was less confined, and she divided +her time between the Hall and the Cottage, but did not yet finally +quit the former. Mrs. Darling resolved to speak to her, and the +opportunity came. One evening when she was alone in the drawing-room, +Honour knocked at the door and came in. The girl looked the wreck of +her former self; thin, pale, shadowy, her black gown seemed much too +large for her, and the dark circles under her eyes were excessively +conspicuous on her naturally light skin. + +"Could I speak to you for a few minutes, ma'am?" she asked. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Darling, a feeling of nervousness arising within her +at the request. "You had better sit down, Honour; you are weak still." + +Honour obeyed. She had come to speak of her own departure; to thank +Mrs. Darling for her care of her, and to say that the sooner she was +away now, the better. She thought of going on the following day, or +the day after, if Mrs. Darling would allow it. + +Mrs. Darling heaved a sigh of relief, perhaps she could hardly tell +why or wherefore. "I did not think you were strong enough to go +anywhere yet. But as you please. Are you aware, Honour, what cruel +things you said of your mistress?" she resumed, in low tones. + +Honour looked up in genuine surprise. "_I_ said cruel things, ma'am! +What did I say?" + +"I hardly like to tell you what you said," replied Mrs. Darling. "You +accused her over and over again of having set fire to the child and +left him to burn to death. Were you to say such words in your right +senses, you might be in danger of transportation for speaking them." + +Honour burst into tears. She had no recollection whatever of her +fault, and humbly begged pardon for it. + +"Of course we do not look upon you as responsible for what you said," +continued Mrs. Darling; "the ravings of a diseased mind go for +nothing. But they are not the less unpleasant to hear, and your +mistress feels enough grief from this matter without its being +unnecessarily added to. You, of all persons, should be careful not to +add to her sorrow. It was only this very day, when we were speaking of +Benja, that she fervently exclaimed, if her whole fortune could bring +him back to life, it should be given. There are moments"--Mrs. Darling +dropped her voice as though she were speaking to herself, rather than +to Honour--"when I have fancied she would sacrifice even George's +life, could that bring his brother back again. Believe me, she regrets +him as much as you can do." + +Subdued, weak, humble, Honour could only give vent to excuses and +penitent tears. She had never really suspected her mistress, she said, +and, indeed, she had never suspected any one of her own good will; it +was her wicked thoughts that would rise up in spite of her. Not her +mistress, however; if she had indulged these thoughts, it was of +Prance. It was desperately wicked, she knew, but the boy's death +seemed to take her reason from her. She hoped Prance would not come to +hear of it; and for herself, she would never, never harbour such +fancies again. + +So Honour left Alnwick Hall. She had to go first of all to Castle +Wafer, Mr. St. John having sent for her. The fact was, the occurrence +had made a most startling and unhappy impression on the master of +Castle Wafer. The account he had received of it was a very partial +one, and he naturally wished for correct details. When the summons +came, Honour had flung up her hands in a sort of terror. How should +she dare to meet Mr. Isaac St. John, and proclaim to him personally +her wicked carelessness? Mrs. Darling also had seemed much put out: +but there was no help for it, and she cautioned Honour. + +"Take care," she gravely said, "that not a hint of those wicked and +foolish suspicions is dropped to Mr. St. John." + +In anything but an enviable frame of mind, did Honour enter on the +interview with Mr. St. John at Castle Wafer. He sat on the sofa in his +own sitting-room, his back propped up with soft pillows, and Honour, +whom he invited to a seat, sat in her new mourning, and wept before +him. The first timidity over, she confessed the whole; made, as it +were, a clean breast of it, and told how her own thoughtlessness, in +leaving the child alone with the lighted toy, had been the cause of +the calamity. Mr. St. John was painfully interested in the little +coincidence she mentioned--that the first idea of the toy, the lighted +church, had been gathered at the fair that was being held the very day +he came to Alnwick. It was at this point that Honour burst into tears, +which she was quite unable to control. + +However Mr. St. John might have been disposed to condemn the +carelessness, he could only feel compassion for the sufferer. She +should never know another truly happy moment, she sobbed, should never +cease to reproach herself as long as life should last. She gave +herself the whole blame; she said not a word of the old doubts; and +when Mr. St. John questioned her as to the fastening of the doors, she +declared that she could not tell herself how they had become fastened, +but mentioned the conclusion come to by the household and the coroner. +_They_ decided that the little boy had himself fastened the one; and +for the other, some thought it had never been fastened at all; only +she, Honour, had fancied it in her flurry; others thought it must have +bolted itself when the little boy shut it, and she could only suppose +that it did so bolt. She spoke of the great sorrow of her mistress, as +testified to by Mrs. Darling, and told how she had left the Hall +because she could not yet bear the sight of it: and not a whisper did +she breathe of the unseemly scene which had occurred on that memorable +afternoon. In short, it seemed that Honour was striving to make amends +for the harsh and unjustifiable words she had used of her mistress in +her delirium. + +Mr. St. John inquired whether she was going back to the Hall. "Never, +never!" she answered; she should take service as far away from it as +possible, where folks would not point at her as having caused the +death of an innocent child. Not as a nurse--who would be likely to +trust her in that capacity now?--but as a house or laundry maid. A +moment's deliberation with himself, and then Mr. St. John offered her +a service in his own household. One of the housemaids was about to +leave to be married; if Honour would like the situation the +housekeeper should engage her. + +Again burst forth the tears. Not suppressed sobs this time, but soft +tears of gratitude. For there was a tone of compassion in Mr. St. +John's voice that found its way to the heart of the unhappy woman; +_none_ had addressed such to her since that miserable day, the Eve of +St. Martin; and she could have been his slave in all reverence for +life. Thankfully did she accept the offered situation; and it was +decided with the housekeeper afterwards that she should enter upon it +in a month's time, when both health and spirits might be somewhat +renewed. + +Before the first week of that month had elapsed, Mr. St. John made an +effort, and went over to Alnwick. In his courteous sympathy he deemed +that a visit was due to Mrs. Carleton St. John; the more especially +that he had not been able to make it at the time, or to attend the +funeral. There were also certain little matters of business to be +mentioned to her, now that George was the heir, to whom he was also +guardian; but without any of the additional power vested in him, as it +had been in regard to Benja. + +He went this time by rail. Brumm said so much of the additional length +of the journey by road in his master's present weak state, that Mr. +St. John yielded for once, and a compartment was engaged, where he +would be alone, with Brumm to attend upon him. On arriving at Alnwick, +they found Mrs. Carleton St. John was still at her mother's cottage; +and to the cottage Isaac went. + +Had he arrived only a day later, he would not have seen her whom he +came to see. Mrs. Carleton St. John was on the wing. She was starting +for Scarborough that very evening, as Mrs. Darling sharply expressed +it, as if the travelling by night did not meet her approbation; but +she had allowed Charlotte to have her own way as a child, she +whispered to Mr. St. John, and Charlotte chose to have it still. + +What struck Mr. St. John more than anything else in this visit, was +the exceeding _stillness_ that seemed to pervade Mrs. Carleton St. +John. She sat in utter quietness, her hands clasped on her knee, her +black dress falling around her slender form in soft folds, the white +crape lappets of her cap thrown behind. The expression of her bent +face was still, almost to apathy; her manner and voice were subdued. +So young and pretty did she look in her grief, that Mr. St. John's +heart went out to her in compassion. He saw a slight shiver pass +through her frame when she first spoke of Benja: she _grieved_ for +him, she murmured; and she told the tale of how she had struck him +that fatal afternoon--oh, if she could only recall that! it weighed so +heavily upon her. Oh, if she could--if she could--and Mr. St. John +saw the fervour with which the wish was aspirated, the drawn lines +about the pretty but haggard mouth, the hands lifted for once and +clasped to pain--if she could only recall him back to life! + +She wanted change, she said; she was going to Scarborough. George did +not seem to grow strong again, and she thought it might do him good; +he was fractious and ailing, and perpetually crying for Benja. Mamma +was angry at her travelling by night, but no one but herself knew how +long and tedious her nights were; she seemed to be always seeing +Benja. When she went to sleep she dreamt he was alive again, and to +awake up from that to the reality was more cruel than all. + +Isaac St. John, as he sat and listened to the plaintive voice, pitied +her beyond everything. There had not been wanting people, even within +his small sphere of daily life, to comment on the gratification it +must be to Mrs. Carleton St. John (apart from the loss of the child +and its peculiar horror) to see her own son the inheritor. Isaac St. +John resentfully wished they could see her and hear her now. He +acquiesced in the expediency of change, both for herself and the +child, and warmly urged her to exchange Scarborough for Castle Wafer. +His stepmother, Mrs. St. John, was there, and they would make her so +much more comfortable than she could be at any watering-place. But he +urged in vain. She thanked him for his kindness, saying she would +prefer to go to Scarborough now, but would keep his invitation for a +future opportunity. + +To the business matters she declined to listen. If it was at all +necessary that he should discuss them, let it be with her mamma; or +perhaps with Mr. Drake the lawyer. Mr. Drake knew all about +everything, she supposed; and he would attend on Mr. St. John if +requested. + +So, after a two hours' sojourn at the cottage, Isaac St. John quitted +it, and the following day he returned to Castle Wafer. He had not +mentioned that Honour was about to enter on service at Castle Wafer. +Upon Honour's name occurring in conversation in connection with the +accident on St. Martin's Eve, Mrs. Carleton St. John had shown +symptoms of excitement: she wished Honour had died, she said, before +she had wrought such ill: and Isaac, perhaps feeling rather ashamed to +confess that his household was going to shelter her, let the subject +drop. + +Mrs. St. John and the child started for Scarborough, Prance and three +or four other servants in attendance upon her. Not Mrs. Darling. The +younger lady had civilly but firmly declined her mother's +companionship. She would rather be alone, she said, and Mrs. Darling +yielded--as she had done all through Charlotte's life. + +But it appeared that Scarborough did not please her. She had been in +it little more than a week, when Mrs. Darling heard that she had gone +to some place in Westmoreland. From thence, after another short +sojourn, she made her way to Dover. It was getting close to Christmas +then, and Mrs. Darling, feeling an uneasiness she could not well +define, hastened to her, under the pretext of accompanying her home. +She found Charlotte anything but benefited by her travellings, if +looks might be trusted, for she was more thin, more wan, more haggard +than before; and George was ill still. + +Whether George St. John had eaten too much at that memorable birthday +dinner, or whether the shock and horror of seeing Benja, as he had +seen him, was telling upon his system, certain it was the child had +declined from that night. Mr. Pym had treated him for indigestion, and +he seemed a little better for a few days, but the improvement did not +continue. Never again was he the merry boy he had been: fractious, +irritable, and mourning incessantly for Benja; his spirits failed, his +appetite would not return. _He_ had not derived benefit from the +change of scene any more than his mother, and that, Mrs. Darling on +her arrival saw. + +"What can be the matter with him?" was the first question Mrs. St. +John addressed to her mother, and the anxiety visible in the wild eyes +alarmed Mrs. Darling. + +"Charlotte, calm yourself, my dear; indeed there is no cause for +uneasiness. I think you have moved him about too much; children want +repose at times as well as we do. The quiet of the Hall and Mr. Pym's +care will soon bring him round. We will go back at once." + +"I am not going back to the Hall," said Charlotte. + +"Not going back!" repeated Mrs. Darling. + +"Not at present." + +"My dear Charlotte, you must go back. How is the Hall to get on at +Christmas without you?" + +"Must?" significantly returned Charlotte. "I am my own mistress; +accountable to none." + +"Of course, my love; of course. But, Charlotte"--and Mrs. Darling +seemed unduly anxious--"it is right that you should spend Christmas +there. Georgy is the heir now." + +"He is the possessor," said Charlotte, calmly. "He is the possessor of +Alnwick, he will be the inheritor of more; he will be Sir George +Carleton St. John--as his father would have been had he but lived." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Darling, stealing a side glance at her daughter, who +was resting her cheek upon her slender fingers, her gaze fixed +upwards. + +"But, mamma, I wish now it were Benja; I wish Georgy was as he used to +be. I think a complete change of scene may do him good," she added +after a pause, "and I shall take him abroad: immediately: for perhaps +a year." + +Mrs. Darling stood aghast. "But, what's to become of the Hall? what's +to be done with it?" + +"Anything," was the indifferent reply. "It is mine to do what I choose +with--that is, it's Georgy's--and who is to question me? Live in it +yourself, if you like; let it; leave servants in it; I don't care. +Georgy is my only care now, mamma, and I shall take him abroad to get +him strong." + +Yes, Alnwick Hall and its broad acres were George's now, but they did +not seem to have brought pleasure in their train. Was it that the +almost invariable law of nature was obtaining in this case, and the +apples, _coveted_, proved bitter ashes in possession? Charlotte St. +John looked back to the days and nights of warfare with existing +things, to the rebellion of her own spirit at her child's secondary +position, to the vain, ardent longing that he should be the heir and +supplant Benja. Well, she had her wish. But where was the pleasure she +had looked forward to as in a vision, where the triumph? It had not +come; it seemed to have vanished utterly and outwardly, even as had +poor Benja. What was, what could be, the cause for this? + +She crossed over at once to the Continent, hoping there to find relief +for the new ailments of Georgy as for her own worn spirits; and Mrs. +Darling went back to her cottage in dudgeon, and then took wing to her +mother's to spend Christmas. And servants alone reigned at Alnwick +Hall. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. +ADELINE DE CASTELLA. + + +Christmas came for other lands, just as surely as it did for England; +and the young ladies of Madame de Nino's finishing establishment at +Belport were gathered round the schoolroom stove on that festal +morning. Rose Darling taking the best place as usual; and also, as +usual, swaying all minds to her own imperious will. Rose was in a vile +humour; believing herself to be the worst-used mortal in the world. +She had fully reckoned on going home for Christmas--or at least into +Berkshire; and Mrs. Darling's excuses about the uncertainty of her own +movements only angered her the more. + +"Don't bother here about your privileges and advantages!" she +wrathfully exclaimed, elbowing the girls away from her, and tossing +back her shower of golden curls. "What do the French know about +keeping Christmas? France is a hundred years behind England in +civilization, just as the French girls are behind us." + +"Well done, Rose!" cried Adeline de Castella. + +"Adeline excepted, of course," went on Rose, addressing no one in +particular. "Why, the French don't know as much as the use of the +mistletoe!--and our friends send us here to be trained and educated! +No Christmas! no holidays--except a month in autumn, which you are not +expected to take! It is a pernicious country; an unnatural state of +things; and the British government ought to interfere and forbid the +schools to receive English girls." + +"But don't the French keep Christmas?" asked a new girl, and a very +stupid one, Grace Lucas. + +"Bah!" ejaculated Rose. "As if they kept anything except the Jour de +l'An!" + +"The what?" timidly asked Grace Lucas. + +"Qu'elle est bête!" cried Rose in her careless manner. + +"Have some consideration, Rose," spoke Adeline in French. + +"Why, she has heard it fifty times!" retorted Rose in English. + +"Every one is not so apt as you." + +"Apt at what?" asked Rose fiercely, a glowing colour rising to her +face. Since the episode connected with Mr. Marlborough, Rose's +conscience was prone to conjure up hidden sarcasm in every sentence +addressed to her. + +"I meant at picking up French," laughed Adeline. "What else should I +mean?" + +"Oh, thank you," chafed Rose. "I understand." + +"Don't be cross, Rose. Have I not elected to spend my Christmas here, +with you all? You show me no gratitude." + +"_You_ can afford to laugh--and to make a merit of stopping here," +retorted Rose. "When in seven days from this you leave for good!" + +"If Rose could only change places with you!" interrupted Mary Carr. + +"Speak for yourself, if you please, Mary Carr," was Rose's fiery +answer: "who wants to change places with her? But, Adeline, I do envy +you the balls and gaiety between now and Carême." + +The Castella family must not be classed with the ordinary run of +people frequenting Belport. Monsieur de Castella--in his own family +chiefly called Signor de Castella--was descended from a noble Spanish +family on the paternal side; his mother had been a proud and well-born +Italian. His usual place of residence was Paris. But some years +previous to this present time, symptoms of delicacy became apparent in +Adeline; the medical men strongly recommended the seaside, and she was +brought to Belport. It appeared to agree with her so well, so +establish her health and strength, that Monsieur de Castella took on +lease one of the handsomest and largest houses in the town. Sometimes +he had to make long absences in Paris, in Spain, and in Italy; Madame +de Castella always accompanied him, and Adeline would then be left at +Madame de Nino's. This winter would probably be their last in Belport; +the summer was to be spent at the French château of Madame de +Castella's mother, an English lady by birth; and after that they +intended to resume their residence in Paris. They were very wealthy, +highly connected and considered, and Adeline was their only child. +There had been an elder girl, Maria, but she died: and this made +Adeline all the more precious to them. As you read on, you will know +her better--and love her. + +She was now about to be introduced to the world. New Year's Day was +her birthday, when she would be eighteen; and I dare say you are aware +that it is about the greatest fête the French keep, always excepting +All Saints' Day. Madame de Castella had issued cards for an assembly +in the evening, and Adeline was to be introduced. The schoolgirls +called it Adeline's inauguration ball. + +Amidst other hidden secrets, sedulously guarded from the teachers, +Madame de Nino's pupils were in possession of a pack of what they +called fortune-telling cards. They were not playing cards, but thin, +small, transparent squares, made from the leaf of the sensitive-plant. +On each square was a carefully painted flower, purporting to be an +emblem. Rose, happy love; cross-of-Jerusalem, sorrow; snowdrop, +purity; bachelor's-button, vanity; hyacinth, death; and so on. Three +or four of these squares were placed on the palm of the hand, the +flowers downwards, so that one square could not be distinguished from +another. They would in most cases curl slightly and leap from the +hand; but should any one adhere to it, it was deemed a proof of +affinity with the owner, a foreshadowing of her fate to come. For +instance: if it were the cross-of-Jerusalem that remained, the holder +was pronounced to be destined to sorrow; if the bachelor's-button, the +girl's life was to be passed in vanity. It was at the best but a silly +pastime, meet only for those silly girls; but there are of those +schoolgirls who, to this hour, would confess to a superstitious belief +in them, unexplainable alike to themselves and to any known law of +reason. Else why, they would ask, should one particular leaf have +clung always to Adeline de Castella, and been so singularly +exemplified in her destiny? That it did cling to her is a fact: +otherwise, I should never have thought of noticing any pastime so +puerile. + +The first time these cards were tried, the girls were in their room, +supposed to be in bed. Mam'selle Fifine had gone down with the light, +and Rose had lighted one of her large wax tapers, which she kept +locked up from prying eyes. Adeline had both her hands stretched out, +three squares on each. Five of the squares rolled off quickly, more +quickly than usual; the sixth slightly fluttered, and then settled +down, quiet and passive on her palm. Janet Duff took it up at length, +but dropped it again as one startled. + +"Oh! it is bad!" she said, in a whisper. + +Mary Carr turned the square. It was a French marigold. + +"'French marigold: unhappy love; its end possible death,'" read Janet +Duff from the explanations. "It is about the worst in the pack." + +Some of the girls shivered--that dortoir was always cold. Adeline +laughed merrily. "It is only nonsense," she said: and she spoke as she +thought. + +And the singular part was, that Adeline de Castella had tried those +cards since, a dozen times at least; and this ill-omened French +marigold had always clung to her whenever it was of those placed on +her hand. The hyacinth had been dreaded so much from the first, that +Janet Duff took it out of the pack. And the French marigold, so far as +was seen, never rested on any other hand than Adeline de Castella's. + +"It is certainly singular," mused Adeline, when she tried her fate at +the cards for the last time before leaving school, and the French +marigold clung to her as usual. + +New Year's Day came in: and with its evening a clash of many +carriages, impatient horses, and quarrelsome coachmen filled the +streets, for the gay world of Belport was flocking to the house of +Signor de Castella. + +It was a brilliant scene, those reception-rooms, brilliant with their +blaze of light and their exotics. Adeline de Castella stood by her +mother. The guests had known and thought of her but as a plainly +attired, simple schoolgirl, and were not prepared to recognize her as +she stood before them in her costly attire and wondrous beauty. Her +robes of white lace, flowing and elegant, sparkled with emeralds; +single chains of emeralds encircled her neck, her arms, and confined +in their place the waves of her silken hair; lustrous emeralds, +heirlooms of the ancient family of de Castella. Her features, pure and +regular as if chiselled from marble, were glowing with the crimson +flush of excitement, rendering more conspicuous her excessive +loveliness. + +"Oh, Adeline," whispered Mary Carr, when she could steal a few words +with her, "how beautiful you are!" + +"What! have you turned flatterer too!" + +"Flattery---to _you!_ How mistaken they were tonight, when they +supposed Rose would outshine all! If they could only see you now!" + +Miss Carr brought her words and her breath to a standstill, for, +coming in at the door were Mr. and Mrs. Marlborough. + +"Yes," said Adeline, answering her exclamation of astonishment; "mamma +met them today, just as they arrived from Paris, and made them +promise to look in tonight. They are on their road to England. Lord +John Seymour is with them." + +"What will Rose say?" ejaculated Mary Carr. + +Mr. and Mrs. Marlborough, Adeline, and others were standing together +when Rose came up. Rose was not aware in whose presence she was, till +she stood face to face with George Marlborough. A random remark she +had been about to make to Adeline died upon her lips, and her face +turned white. Eleanor was crimson; and there might have been an +awkward pause, but for the readiness of Mr. Marlborough. + +"How do you do, Miss Darling?" he said, with a pleasant smile. "Nearly +frozen up with this winter cold? It has been very severe in Paris." + +Rose recalled her scattered senses, and began to talk with him at +random: but she barely exchanged courtesies with Eleanor. + +"Ellen," whispered Mr. Marlborough to his wife, later in the evening, +"may I dance a quadrille with her?" + +"How silly!--to ask me that! I think it is the best thing you can do." +But there was a shy, conscious blush on Mrs. Marlborough's cheek, as +she answered. Her husband saw it, and went off laughing, and the next +minute Rose was dancing with him. + +"Which of my presents do you admire most?" asked Adeline of Mary Carr, +directing her attention to an extensive display of articles ranged +together in the card-room: all offerings to her that day from friends +and relatives, according to French custom on New Year's Day. + +"What a lovely little clock in miniature!" exclaimed Rose looking over +Mary's shoulder. + +"It is a real clock," said Adeline, "it plays the chimes at the hours, +and those are real diamonds. My grandmamma always said she should give +me something worth keeping on my eighteenth birthday, and she sent me +this. I am so sorry she was not well enough to come to us for +tonight! Stay, I will touch the spring." + +As Adeline raised her right hand hastily, anxious that Rose and Mary +Carr should hear the melodious chimes of this ingenious ornament, the +chains of her emerald bracelet caught in the button of a gentleman's +coat, who made one of the group pressing round her. With a slight jerk +she disentangled the chain, but it brought away with it a flower he +had held in his hand. _It was a French marigold!_ + +The brilliant hue deepened upon Adeline's cheek as she looked at the +flower. She turned and held it out to the owner. + +He was a stranger, a young and most distinguished-looking man, +possessing in no common degree that air of true nobility which can +neither be concealed nor assumed. His countenance was one of rare +beauty, and his eyes were bent with a pleasant earnest expression of +admiration upon Adeline. _You_ have met him before, reader, but +Adeline had not. + +She addressed an apology to him, as she restored the flower, speaking +intuitively in English: it required not an introduction to know that +that tall, high-bred man was no Frenchman. He was answering a few +words of gallantry, as he received it--that the fair hand it had been +in invested the flower with an extrinsic interest--when M. de Castella +came into the circle, an aged man by his side. + +"Adeline," he said to his daughter, "have you forgotten your old +friend, the Baron de la Chasse?" + +With an exclamation of pleasure, Adeline held out her hand. She had +been so much with the English, that she had fully acquired their habit +of hand-shaking. The old baron did not seem to understand her, but he +took her hand and placed it within his arm. They moved away, and there +was a general breaking up of the group. + +"Lottie Singleton," began Rose, "do you know who that handsome man +is?" + +"Handsome!" returned Miss Singleton. "Everybody's handsome with you. I +call him old and ugly." + +"I don't mean the French baron. That distinguished-looking Englishman +with the marigold." + +"He! I know nothing of him. He came in with the Maxwells. I saw Sir +Sandy introduce him to Madame de Castella." + +"Where could he have found that French marigold at this season of the +year?" wondered Rose. + +"Oh, Miss Maxwell has all sorts of odd flowers in that box of hers, +four feet square, which she calls her conservatory," returned the +archdeacon's daughter. "He must have found it there." + +"Lord John," cried Rose, summarily arresting Lord John Seymour, who +was passing, and whom she had never seen but once in her life, and +that months before, "who is that handsome man I saw you talking with +just now?" + +"It is my cousin's husband, Miss Darling," lisped Lord John, who had +an impediment in his speech. "Young Marlborough." + +"I don't speak of _him_," cried Rose, impatiently, an association +dyeing her cheeks. "A tall, pale man, features very refined." + +"You must mean St. John." + +"Who?" repeated Rose. + +"Frederick St. John. Brother to St. John of Castle Wafer." + +Rose Darling drew a deep breath in her utter astonishment. "And so +that's Frederick St. John! I have heard of him and his beauty." + +"He is handsome," assented Lord John, "and he's more pleasing than +handsome. Fred St. John's one of the best fellows going. We were +together at Christchurch." + +"Is he staying at Belport?" + +"Only passing through, he tells me. He has been dining at the +Maxwells' and they brought him here this evening." + +"I wish you'd introduce him to me." + +("Well done, Rose," thought Mary Carr, who was near.) + +"With pleasure," replied Lord John: and he offered his arm to Rose. + +"No," said Rose, in her changeable, capricious, but most attractive +manner, withdrawing her own as soon as she had taken it, "I think I'll +go up to him myself. We are relatives, you know." + +"Indeed!" said Lord John. + +"Connections, at any rate," concluded Rose. + +She chose a moment when Mr. St. John was alone, and approached him. +Beginning the self-introduction by holding out her hand. Mr. St. John +looked surprised. + +"You don't know me," said Rose. "Lord John Seymour offered to +introduce you to me, but I said it was not needed between relatives. I +have heard a great deal of Frederick St. John: we are cousins in a +degree, you know. I am Rose Darling." + +The name did not recall any association to Mr. St. John. He stood +smiling on the bright girl before him, with her sunny blue eyes and +her mass of golden hair. + +"You forget, I see, and I must be more explanatory. My half-sister, +Charlotte Norris, married Mr. Carleton St. John. Mamma saw you +recently at Alnwick Hall. My brother Frank was there." + +His answer was to take both Rose's hands into his, as an apology for +his stupidity, and assure her that he was proud and pleased to find +such a cousin. Rose remained talking to him. + +"What a dreadful thing it was, that little boy's death!" she +exclaimed. "I had heard of him often; little Benja St. John! And to be +burnt to death!--oh, it was terrible! Who was in fault?" + +"The nurse. She left him alone with a paper toy that had a lighted +candle within it, and by some means he set himself on fire. It was at +his funeral that I met Captain Darling." + +"So much about the accident, mamma has told me in her letters; but +particulars she has given none," said Rose. "It is too shocking a +thing to write about, she says. Poor little fellow! I wish he had been +saved. What do you think of Charlotte?" + +"Of Mrs. Carleton St. John? I never saw her. She did not appear the +day of the funeral. The child's sad death has had a great effect upon +her, I hear; both on her health and spirits. She has left the Hall for +a time, and is travelling." + +"_I_ know that," returned Rose with emphasis, in which there was a +world of resentment. "Charlotte has been whirling about from place to +place like a troubled spirit. It has kept mamma in a most unsettled +state, and prevented her having me over for Christmas. I was so mad +when I found I was not to go home! Such a shame, you know, keeping me +at school! I shall be nineteen next birthday. We have had to give way +to Charlotte all our lives." + +Mr. St. John smiled on the pretty, pouting, rebellious face. "I fear +your sister has been grievously shocked by the death," he said. +"Change of scene may be absolutely requisite for her." + +"Well then, all I can say is, that it is most unusual, for it is not +in Charlotte's nature to be much affected by any earthly thing. She is +apathetic to a degree. Of course, she could not help being shocked and +grieved at the death; but I _don't_ understand its making this lasting +impression on her and affecting her health, as mamma says it does. And +now that her son is the heir--you are thinking me hard and cruel to +say such things, Mr. St. John," broke off Rose, "but you don't know +Charlotte as I do. I am certain that the succession of her own child, +George, has been to her a long day-dream, not the less cherished from +its apparent impossibility." + +"I think you don't regard your sister with any great degree of +affection, Miss Darling," Mr. St. John ventured to say, smiling on her +still. + +"I don't, and that's the truth," candidly avowed Rose. "If you only +knew how mamma has made us bend to Charlotte and her imperious will +all our lives, you wouldn't wonder at me. I was the only one who +rebelled; I _would not_; and to tell you a secret, I believe that's +why mamma sent me to school." + +The strains of music warned Mr. St. John that he must listen to no +more; and, as Rose was herself led away, she saw him dancing with +Adeline. He was with her a great deal during the rest of the evening. + +"The play has begun, Adeline," whispered Rose when she and Mary Carr +were leaving. + +"What play?" + +"You are already taken with this new stranger: I can see it in your +countenance: and he with you. What think you of the episode of the +French marigold? Rely upon it, that man, Frederick St. John, will +exercise some powerful influence over your future life." + +"Oh Rose, Rose!" remonstrated Adeline, her lips parting with +merriment, "we are not all so susceptible to 'influence' as you." + +"We must all fall under it once in our lives," rejoined Rose, +unheeding the reproof. "Don't forget my counsel to you here after, +Adeline. Beware of this stranger: the French marigold is an emblem of +unhappy love." + +Adeline de Castella laughed: a slighting, careless, triumphant laugh +of disbelief: laughed aloud in her pride and power, as she quitted +Rose Darling's side, on her way to play her brilliant part in the +crowd around her. It was spring-time with her then. + +There was a singular fascination attaching to her, this child of many +lands. It is no fable to call her such. England, France, Spain, Italy; +it was singular that she should be, through her grandparents, a +descendant of all. But her nature was essentially English. Her rare +beauty of form and feature is seldom found united with brilliancy of +complexion, as it was in her, save in the patrician daughters of our +own land: and the retiring, modest sweetness of her manners, their +graceful self-possession, were English to the core. A stranger could +have taken her to belong to no other country, and her perfect +knowledge of the language, the absence of all foreign accent, would +contribute to the delusion. She had been familiar with it from her +infancy: Madame de Castella, speaking it herself as a native, took +care of that. She had placed English nurses about her children; and +subsequently an English governess, a lady of good birth and breeding +but fallen fortunes, had taken charge of them until Maria de +Castella's death. It was from this lady that Adeline especially learnt +to appreciate and love the English character; insensibly to herself, +her own was formed after the model. In short, Adeline de Castella, in +spite of her name and her mixed birth, was an English girl. + +A month or two rolled away. Adeline de Castella paid an occasional +visit to her old schoolfellows at Madame de Nino's; but her time was +taken up with a continuous scene of gaiety and visiting. Balls, +theatres, _soirées_--never was she in bed before two or three o'clock +in the morning, and sometimes it was later than that. Madame de +Castella, still a young woman in every sense of the word, lived but +for the world. The schoolgirls noticed that Adeline wore a pale, +wearied look, and one afternoon that she came in, she coughed +frightfully. + +"That's like a consumptive cough!" exclaimed Rose, with her usual want +of consideration. + +"I have coughed a great deal lately," observed Adeline; "and coming in +from the cold air to the atmosphere of your stifling stove, has +brought it on now." + +No one, however, thought anything serious of the cough, or the +weariness. But that time was to come. + +It was Ash-Wednesday: and Mary Carr was invited to spend the day at +Signor de Castella's. Madame de Castella had given a fancy-dress ball +the previous Monday night, _Lundi gras_. Rose and Mary had been +invited to it, but Madame de Nino refused the invitation for them, +point-blank, which nearly drove Rose wild with exasperation. After +church, one of the servants attended Miss Carr to Madame de +Castella's--for I suppose you know that in France a young unmarried +lady never goes out alone. + +The house seemed to be in some extraordinary commotion. Servants ran +hither and thither with a look of consternation on their faces, and +Madame de Castella, when Mary reached her presence, was walking about +in her dressing-gown, sobbing hysterically, her breakfast cold and +untouched at her side, and her maid, Susanne, standing by her. + +"What is the matter?" cried Mary, in terror. + +"Oh, it is dreadful!" ejaculated Susanne, by way of answer. "Unhappy +Mademoiselle Adeline!" + +"She is dying!" sobbed Madame de Castella. "My darling child! my only +child! She is dying, and I am the cause. Heaven forgive me!" + +"Oh, Susanne!" exclaimed Miss Carr, turning to the maid, "what is it +all?" + +Susanne and Madame explained between them, both weeping, the latter +violently. + +They were engaged, on the previous night, _Mardi gras_, to "assist" at +the crowning ball of the Carnival; but when it became time to dress, +Adeline felt so ill and weary that she gave up the task in despair. +Madame de Castella urged her to exert herself and shake the illness +off, but the Signor interfered, and said Adeline had better go to bed. +And to bed she went, at nine o'clock. Madame departed at ten for the +ball, but came home before twelve, anxious about Adeline. She went +into the latter's bedroom, and found her coughing violently, with +every appearance of serious illness upon her. Adeline could say +nothing, except that she had coughed like that for many nights. +Terror-stricken, the unhappy lady alarmed the household, and the +medical attendant was sent for. He came at once, aroused out of his +slumbers. + +He thought consumption had set its seal upon Adeline. The seeds of it +were, no doubt, inherent in her constitution, though hitherto +unsuspected, and the gay scenes she had indulged in, that winter, had +brought them forth: the exposures to the night air, to heat and cold, +the thin dresses, the fatigue, and the broken rest. He did not say she +would not be restored to health; but he wished for a consultation. + +So, when the early hours gave place to day, the faculty were called +together, both French and English. They said just what the family +doctor had said, and no more. + +"I suppose I may not ask to see Adeline," said Mary Carr, when she had +learnt these particulars. + +"Not for the world," interposed the lady's-maid. "Perfect quiet is +ordered. Mademoiselle has now a blister on her chest, and a sick-nurse +is with her." + +But, just then, Louise, Adeline's maid, came into the room, with her +young lady's love to Miss Carr, and an inquiry why she was so long +going up to see her. + +"There!" sobbed Madame de Castella, "they have told her you are here. +Just go to her for five minutes. I rely upon you not to stay longer." + +Mary Carr followed Louise into Adeline's room, and went on tiptoe to +her bedside. The tears came into her eyes when she saw her lying +there, so pale and wan. + +"So their fears have infected you, Mary!" was her salutation, as she +looked up from the pillow, and smiled. "Is it not a ridiculous piece +of business altogether? As if no one ever had a cough before! Do you +know we had half-a-dozen doctors here today?" + +"Susanne said there had been a consultation." + +"Yes, I could scarcely help laughing. I told them all it was very +ridiculous: that beyond the cough, which is nothing, and a little +fatigue from the pain in my side, I was no more ill than they were. +Dr. Dorré said it was his opinion also, and that I should outlive them +all yet." + +"I hope and trust you will, Adeline! Is that the nurse?" + +"A sick-nurse they have sent in. She is English, and accustomed to the +disease. Her name's Brayford. You know consumption is common enough in +your island." + +Mary Carr thought then--thinks still--that it was a grievous error, +their suffering Adeline to know the nature of the disease they +dreaded. It was Madame de Castella who betrayed it, in her grief and +excitement. + +"There is so much more fuss being made than is necessary," resumed +Adeline. "They have put a blister on my chest, and I am to lie in bed, +and live upon slops. I dislike slops." + +"Is your appetite good?" asked Mary. + +"I have not any appetite," was Adeline's reply. "But in illness we +fancy many things, and Louise would have brought me up anything I +asked for. There's no chance of it, with this nurse here. She seems +tiresomely particular, and determined to obey orders to the letter. I +asked her, just before you came in, for some wine-and-water, I almost +payed for it, I was so painfully thirsty. I could have coveted that +three-sous beer some of the English girls at school are so fond of." + +"Did she let you have it?" + +"No. She told me she would not give me a drop of wine if I paid +her for it in gold. I cried about it, I was so disappointed and +thirsty. What with the flurry and excitement there has been all the +morning, and,--papa and mamma's anxiety, my spirits were low, and I +actually cried. But she would not give it me. She brought me some +toast-and-water, and said she was going to make me something nice, +better than wine. There she is, coddling at it over the fire--very +nice I dare say it _is!_" + +Mrs. Brayford came forward, and whispered Miss Carr to take her leave. +Talking was bad for Mademoiselle de Castella. + +"Farewell, dearest Adeline! I shall soon come to see you again. I know +I shall find you better." + +She was halfway across the room when Adeline called to her. The +nurse, who was again leaning over her saucepan, looked up, a +remonstrance in her eye if not on her tongue, but Miss Carr returned. + +"Mary," she whispered, "go in to mamma, assure her, _convince_ her, +that I am not so ill as she fears: that it is her love for me which +has magnified the danger." + +"Oh, it's nothing," cried Rose Darling, slightingly, when Miss Carr +carried the tale of Adeline's illness back to school. "She will soon +be well." + +"Or die," said Mary Carr. + +"Die! You are as absurd as the French doctors, Mary. As if people died +of a little night visiting! I wish they would let _me_ run the risk!" + +"If you had seen the house today, and Madame de Castella----" + +"I am glad I did not," interrupted Rose; "such scenes are not to my +taste. And nothing at all to judge by. The French are always in +extremes--ecstasies or despair. So much the better for them. They feel +the less." + +"That is a harsh remark, if intended to apply to Madame de Castella," +observed Miss Carr. "More intense grief I never care to witness." + +"No doubt. As intense as it is in her nature to feel; and shown as the +French always do show it, in ravings and hysterics. But I can tell you +one thing, Mary Carr, that the only grief to be feared, that which +eats into the heart, and tells upon it, is borne in silence!" + +What a remark from Rose Darling! + + +Adeline de Castella grew gradually better; apparently quite well. But +the cold winds and frosts of winter continued that year very late, +even to the end of April, and for all that period she was kept a close +prisoner to the house. The medical men recommended that she should +spend the following winter in a warmer climate. It was therefore +decided that the summer should be passed at the Château de Beaufoy, as +had been previously agreed upon, and, with the autumn, they would go +south. + +A new rumour reached the schoolgirls--that Adeline was about to be +married. It was brought to them by Madéleine de Gassicourt, and her +friends were intimate with the Castellas. + +That was a singular year, so far as weather went. Frost and snow, +drizzling rain, bleak and biting winds, alternated with each other to +the beginning of May: there had been no spring; but, with that month, +May, there came in summer. It was hotter than it often is in July. And +this hot weather lasted for several months. + +It was the second day of this premature summer, and the usual Thursday +holiday at Madame de Nino's. The girls were in the inner court, +Rose in a furious state of indignation, and ready to quarrel with +every one, because she had not been fetched out, when the roll of +carriage-wheels was heard, and they peeped through a slit in the great +wooden door so as to get a glimpse of the gate of the outer courtyard. + +Springing down the steps of the carriage, came Adeline de Castella, +followed by her mother. A shout of delight arose, excited fingers +pushed back the great lock, and a group burst into the outer +courtyard. Adeline ran towards them, as delighted as they were. Madame +de Castella, with an amused laugh and a pleasant word, passed on to +the apartments of Madame de Nino, and Mademoiselle Henriette ordered +forth Julie, and had the door double-locked. + +Adeline looked infinitely beautiful: for though the face had little +more colour in it than there is in Parian marble, the features +retained all their exquisite contour, the flowing hair its silky +waves, the dark-brown, lustrous eyes their sweet and sad expression. +In the midst of Adeline de Castella's brilliant loveliness, there was, +and always had been, a peculiar expression of sadness pervading her +countenance. It never failed to strike on the notice of the beholder, +investing such a face as hers with a singular interest, but it was +more than usually observable since her illness. Was it that the +unearthly part of her, the spirit, conscious of and mourning for what +was in store for her, cast its shadow upon her features? The girls +crowded round silently to look at Adeline's teeth, for one day, during +the time she lay ill, Charlotte Singleton had said that the +transparent teeth of Adeline de Castella were an indication of a +consumptive tendency, and the girls could not agree amongst themselves +whether they were so very transparent. + +"So I have come to see you at last," began Adeline, as she sat down +with her two friends, Rose and Mary, on the bench outside the +schoolroom windows. "What hot weather has come in all at once!" + +"Adeline, how long your illness has been! We heard you were going to +Nice." + +"Not until autumn. And I don't know whether it will be Nice." + +"There's Julie!" cried Rose, springing up. "Julie, who's fetched?" + +"Pas vous, mademoiselle," answered the servant, laughing at Rose's +anxiety. + +"Ah bah! Adeline, we have heard something else. Ah! you know what I +mean. Is it true?" + +"I believe it is," she answered, a faint blush upon her face, and a +careless smile. + +"Is he handsome?" continued Rose. Of course the first thought that +would arise to _her_. + +"I have never seen him." + +"Oh, Adeline!" uttered Mary Carr, involuntarily, whilst Rose stared +with unqualified amazement. + +"Not yet. He comes from Paris this week to pay us a visit." + +"Who is he?" + +"The Baron de la Chasse. Do you recollect seeing, on my ball night, an +old gentleman who remained most of the evening by the side of papa?" + +"Yes. Well?" answered Rose, impatiently. + +"It seems he made overtures then to papa for my hand, though I did not +know it, and----" + +"It is a sin, an unholy thing, to sacrifice you to an old man!" +interrupted Mary Carr, starting up in her sharp disappointment. "Why, +his sands of life must be well-nigh run out!" + +"A moment, Mary," rejoined Adeline, calmly laying her hand upon Miss +Carr's arm: "who is hasty now? That old man's sands are run out. He +died soon after he had played his part in that festal night, which he +had come down from Paris purposely to join in. He and papa were old +and very dear friends; closer friends it would not be possible to +conceive, though there was a difference of twenty years in their ages. +His nephew inherits his fortune and title, and it is for him they +destine me." + +"How old is he?" inquired Rose. + +"I have not asked," said Adeline. "Mamma says he is good-looking. It +appears that this scheme of uniting the families has been a project of +years, though they never told me. Had my sister lived, the honour was +to have fallen to her." + +"I hope you will be happy," observed Miss Carr. + +"Thank you, Mary. But you speak with hesitation." + +"Not as to the _wish_. The hope might be more assured if you already +knew, and loved, him who is to be your husband. It is a great hazard +to promise to marry one whom we have never seen." + +"It is the way these things are managed in France," said Adeline. + +"And the cause that such doubtful felicity condescends to alight on a +French _mènage_," broke forth Rose, who had been temporarily silent. +"The wives make it out in their intrigues, though. It is a dangerous +game, Adeline. Take care." + +"I hope you do not consider it necessary to warn _me_ against such +danger," exclaimed Adeline, the crimson flying to her cheeks. + +"No; for you have not a particle of the French nature about you," +fearlessly returned Rose. "To you, strong in right principle, in +refinement of feeling, it can bring only suffering--a yearning after +what must never be." + +"Englishwomen do not always marry where they love," mused Adeline. + +"Seldom or never," answered Rose. "With them the passion is generally +over. They go more into society, have opportunities of mixing freely, +as girls, with the other sex, which you have not, and so the years +pass, and by the time their marriage comes, the heart is at rest; its +life has left it." + +"Then their marriage, even by your own showing, seems to be much on a +par with what mine will be." + +"Their marriage is, Adeline, but their love is over, _yours has to +come_. There lies the difficulty: and the danger." + +"Where did you get all these wise ideas from?" inquired Adeline, much +amused. + +"I'm not an idiot," was Rose's answer. "And I am apt to speak freely +when I feel disappointed. I thought you would be sure to marry an +Englishman. You have often said so, and you admire the English so much +more than you do the French. You remember that handsome Englishman, of +French-marigold memory? I set it down in my mind that your destiny and +his were to be linked together." + +"You have set many things down in your mind, Rose, that never had +place out of it," retorted Adeline, with a merry laugh. "I have not +seen him since that night, and probably never shall see him again." + +"Mademoiselle Rose Darling," exclaimed Clotilde, putting her head out +at the schoolroom window. + +"Oh the joy!" cried Rose, as she flew away. "I know it's the +Singletons." + +The Baron de la Chasse arrived from Paris, and was betrothed to +Adeline de Castella. A small circle of friends were invited to meet +him on the evening of the betrothment, and Adeline did not forget a +promise she had made to invite Rose and Mary Carr. + +A man of thirty years, of middle height, and compact, well-made +figure; pleasing features, regular in their contour; auburn hair, +curly and luxuriant by nature, but sheared off to bristles; yellow +whiskers, likewise sheared, and a great fierce yellow moustache with +curled corners. Somehow Rose, when Adeline said he was good-looking, +had pictured to herself a tall, handsome man: she caught sight of the +cropped hair and the moustache, and went through the introduction with +her handkerchief to her mouth, splitting with laughter. Yet there was +no mistaking the baron for anything but a gentleman and a high-bred +man. + +"Mary!" whispered Rose, when she found the opportunity, "what a +sacrifice for Adeline!" + +"How do you mean? Domestic happiness does not lie in looks. And if it +did, the baron's are not so bad." + +"But look at his sheared hair, and those frightful moustaches! Why +does he not cut the ends off, and dye them brown?" + +"Perhaps he is afraid of their turning green--if he has read 'Ten +Thousand a Year.'" + +"Oh, Adeline! Adeline! I wonder if she is really betrothed to him?" + +"That's a superfluous wonder of yours, Rose," said Mary Carr. "The +white wreath is on her head, and the betrothal ring on her finger." + +"If a shaven goat--and that's what _he_ is--put the ring upon mine, I +should look out for some one else to take it off again," retorted +Rose. "Dear Adeline!" she continued, as the latter advanced, "let me +see your ring." + +Adeline drew off her glove and her ring together. + +"You should not have taken it from your finger," remarked Mary Carr. +"We hold a superstition in Holland--some do--that a betrothal ring, +once removed from the finger, will never be exchanged for a nuptial +one." + +"Sheer nonsense, like most other superstitions," said Adeline; and her +perfect indifference of manner proved that no love had entered into +_her_ betrothal--as, indeed, how should it? + +"What had you both to do?" + +"Only sign some writings, and then he placed the ring on my finger. +Nothing more." + +"Except a sealing kiss," said Rose, saucily. + +The colour stole over Adeline's face. Even her fair open brow, as it +met the chaplet of white roses, became flushed. + +"Who but you, Rose, would dream of these vulgar familiarities?" she +remonstrated. "Amongst the French, they would be looked upon as the +very essence of bad taste." + +"_Taste!_" ejaculated Rose, contemptuously. "If you loved, you would +know better. Wait until you do, Adeline, and then remember my +words--and yours. It does not require much time for love to grow, if +it will grow at all," she continued, in that half-abstracted manner +which was now frequent with her--as if she were communing with +herself, rather than talking to another. + +"Probably not," remarked Adeline, with indifference. "But even you, +Rose, susceptible as you are known to be, will scarcely admit that a +few hours are sufficient to call it forth." + +"Nor a twelvemonth either, situated as you and he are," replied Rose, +vehemently. "The very fact of being expected and required to love in +any given quarter, must act as a sure preventive." + +M. de la Chasse drew up, and entered into conversation with them. He +appeared a sensible, agreeable man, at home in all the polite and +literary topics of the day. In his manner towards Adeline, though +never losing the ceremonious politeness of a Frenchman, there was a +degree of gallantry (I don't know any better word: the French would +say _empressement_) not unpleasing to witness, and, Rose thought, he +had a large share of vanity. But where you would see one of his nation +superior to him, you might see ninety-nine inferior. + +"It may be a happy marriage after all, Rose," observed Miss Carr, when +they were once more alone. + +"Possibly. If she can only induce him to let his hair grow, and to +part with those yellow tails." + +"Be serious if you can," reproved Mary Carr. "He seems to be in a fair +way to love Adeline." + +"He admires Adeline," dissented Rose; "is proud of her, and no doubt +excessively gratified that so charming a girl should fall to his lot +without any trouble on his part. But if you come to speak of love, it +sets one wondering how much of _that_ enters into the composition of a +French husband." + +No shadow, or doubt of the future, appeared that night to sit upon the +spirit of Adeline de Castella. There was a radiant look in her +countenance, rarely seen; hiding, for the moment, that touching +expression of sorrow and sadness, so natural to it. As the betrothed +of a few hours, in a few months to be a wife, she was the worshipped +idol of those around her, and this called forth what latent vanity +there was in her heart, and she was happy. She could only think it a +great thing to be an engaged girl. All do. Why should Adeline de +Castella be an exception? + +How little did she know, or think, or suspect, the true nature of the +contract she had that day made in her blindness!--what it involved, +what it was to bring forth for her! + +The Château de Beaufoy, formerly belonging to the Chevalier de +Beaufoy, was now the property and residence of his widow. She was of +English birth, as you have heard. Of her two children, the younger was +the wife of Signor de Castella; the other, Agnes de Beaufoy, a maiden +lady, had never left her. The property was situated near to Odesque, a +small town some leagues from Belport on the Paris line of railroad. + +The Castellas departed for the château on their promised summer's +visit. Mary Carr accompanied them at the pressing invitation of +Adeline. But Madame de Nino would only grant her leave for a week. + +Adeline de Castella had represented the château in glowing colours; +which caused Mary Carr to be surprised, not to say disappointed, when +she saw it. A long, straight, staring, whitish-grey building, all +windows and chimneys, with a primly-laid-out garden stretched before +it, flat and formal. Precise flower-beds, square, oval, round; round, +square, oval; and long paths, straight and narrow; just as it is the +pride of French château-gardens to be. The principal entrance to the +house was gained by a high, broad flight of steps, on either side of +which was a gigantic lion, grinning its fierce teeth at all visitors. +And these lions, which were not alive, but carved out of stone, and +the steps, were the only relief given to the bare, naked aspect of the +edifice. Before the house were two fountains, the carriage approach +running between them. Each was surrounded by eight smaller lions, with +another giant of the same species spouting up water from its mouth. + +Very ugly and devoid of taste it all looked to Mary Carr. But on the +western side of the château improvements were visible. A stone +terrace, or colonnade, wide, and supported by pillars, with a flight +of steps at each end and in the middle, rose before its windows, and +lovely pleasure-grounds extended out to the far distance. A verdant, +undulating lawn; fragrant shrubs; retired walks, where the trees met +overhead; sheltered banks, grateful to recline upon in the noonday +sun; a winding shrubbery; a transparent lake: all of their kind +charming. For all this, Beaufoy was indebted to the taste of its +English mistress. + +In the neighbourhood, within easy drives, were located other châteaux, +forming a pleasant little society. The nearest house was only +half-a-mile distant, and the reader is requested to take especial +notice of it, since he will sometimes go there. It was not a château, +not half large enough for one, and Beaufoy, with its English ideas, +had christened it "The Lodge." + +It was a compact little abode, belonging to the Count d'Estival, an +intimate friend of the Beaufoy family. This M. d'Estival was gifted by +nature with an extraordinary love for painting and the fine arts. He +had built a room to the lodge expressly for the reception of pictures, +had travelled much, and was continually adding to his collection. +Whilst other people spent their money in society and display, he spent +his (and he had plenty of it) in paintings. Mary Carr was a connection +of his: her eldest brother, an English clergyman, now dead, had +married his niece, Emma d'Estival. You have heard of these Carrs +before, in a previous work: of their birth and residence in Holland; +of the singular romance attending the early history of their father +and mother; of the remarkable action at law in Westerbury, by which +their rights were established. You will not hear more of them in this +history, for I don't suppose you like _réchauffés_ more than I do. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. +TAKING A PORTRAIT. + + +Madame De Beaufoy, née Maria Goldingham, was a genial old lady, stout +and somewhat helpless. Her daughter Agnes, with her grey hair and her +fifty years, looked nearly double the age of Madame de Castella--she +was some ten years older. They were not in the least alike, these +sisters: the elder was plain, large-featured, eyes and complexion +alike pale; Madame de Castella was a slight, small, delicate-featured +woman, with rich brown eyes, and a bright rose-colour on her cheeks. +To Mary Carr's surprise--for Adeline had never mentioned it--she saw +that Miss de Beaufoy was lame. It was the result of an accident in +infancy. + +On the morning following their arrival at Beaufoy, Adeline asked her +grandmother if she knew whether M. d'Estival was at the Lodge, and was +answered in the negative. He had come down from Paris with visitors, +it was said; but had gone away again almost immediately, the old lady +thought to Holland. + +"So much the better," remarked Adeline, "we can go as often as we like +to his picture-gallery. You are fond of paintings, Mary; you will have +a great treat, and you have a sort of right there. Suppose we go now?" + +"Now?" said Madame de Castella. "It is so hot!" + +"It will be hotter later in the day," said Adeline. "Do come with us, +mamma." + +Somewhat unwillingly, Madame de Castella called for her scarf and +bonnet to accompany them, casting many dubious glances at the +cloudless sky and blazing sun. They took their way through the +shrubbery; it was the longest road, but the most shady. And whilst +they are walking, let us take a look at this said painting-room. + +It bore an indescribable appearance, partaking partly of the +character and confusion of an artist's studio, partly of a gorgeous +picture-gallery. The apartment was very long in proportion to its +width, and was lighted by high windows, furnished with those green +blinds, or shades, which enable artists to procure the particular +light they may require. The room opened by means of glass doors upon a +lovely pleasure-ground, but there were shutters and tapestry to draw +before these doors at will, so that no light need enter by them. +Opposite, at the other end of the room, a smaller door connected it +with the house. + +That same morning, about seven o'clock, there stood in this apartment +a young man arranging French chalks, crayons, painting-brushes, and +colours, which lay about in disorder, just as they had been last used. +A tall, pointed easel stood a few feet from the wall, near it a stand +with its colour-box and palettes. There were classical vases scattered +about; plaster-casts from the best models; statues and busts of +porphyry, and carving from the marbles of Lydia and Pentelicus. The +sculptured head of a warrior, a group of gladiators; a Niobe, in its +weeping sorrow, and the Apollo Belvedere, bas-reliefs, copied from the +statue of the Discobolon, and other studies from the antique. There +was beauty in all its aspects, but no deformity, no detached limbs or +misshapen forms: as if the collector cared not to excite unpleasing +thoughts. On the walls hung copies from, and _chefs-d'oeuvre_ of, the +masters of many lands: Michael Angelo, Salvator Rosa, Rembrandt; +groups by Raphael; beautiful angels of Guido; Carlo Dolce, Titian, all +were represented there, with Leonardo da Vinci, the highly-gifted and +unhappy. Of the Spanish school there were few specimens, Velasquez, +Murillo, and one after Zurbarban; and less of the French, Nicholas +Poussin, Le Brun, and Watteau; but there were several of the Flemish +and Dutch masters, copies and originals, Van Dyck, Ruysdael, William +Van de Welde, and the brothers Abraham and Isaac Ostade. + +The gentleman finished his preparations, arranged his palettes, rolled +the stand nearer, and sat down before his easel. But, ere he began his +task, he glanced up at the window nearest him, and, rising, stood upon +a chair, and pulled the green shade lower down to regulate the light. +Then he began to work, now whistling a scrap of a popular melody, now +humming a few bars, and then bursting out, in a voice of the deepest +melody, with a full verse. He was copying a portrait by Velasquez, and +had made considerable progress towards its completion. It was a lovely +female head, supposed to be a representation of Mary Magdalen. But not +even the head on which he was working; not all the portraits and +sculptured busts around; not Girodet's "Endymion" by his side, +betrayed more winning beauty than did the artist's own face and form. + +The rare intellect of his open brow, the sweet smile on his delicate +lips, the earnest glance from his deep-blue eyes, _these_ could not be +imitated by painter's brush or Parian marble. Yet, though his head was +cast in the most shapely mould, not to be hidden by the waves of the +dark, luxuriant hair, and the pale features, regular to a fault, were +of almost womanish beauty, it was not all this, but the _expression_ +which so won upon a beholder. Lord John Seymour was right when he said +the countenance was more prepossessing than handsome--for you have +been prepared no doubt to hear that the painter was Frederick St. +John--because in the singular fascination of the expression was +forgotten the beauty of the features. + +Mr. St. John worked assiduously for some hours, until it was hard upon +midday. He then rose, stretched himself, walked across the room, drew +aside the tapestry and shutters, and opened the glass doors. + +This part of the room seemed to be consecrated to indolent enjoyment; +all vestiges of work were towards the other end. An ottoman or two, +some easy-chairs, and a sofa were here, on which the tired artist +might repose, and admire the scene without--or the many scenes within. +How beautiful was the repose of that outside prospect!--It was but a +small plot of ground, yet that, of itself, seemed fit for Eden. A +green level lawn, from which arose the spray of a fountain, with its +jets of crystal and its mossy banks; clustering flowers of the +sweetest scent on the lawn's edge; high, artificial hills of rock +beyond, over which dripped a cascade, its murmurs soothing the ear; +all very lovely. The whole, not an acre in extent, was surrounded by +towering trees, through whose dancing leaves the sun could penetrate +but in fitful gleams; fragrant linden-trees, which served to shut the +spot out from the world. + +Mr. St. John threw himself upon an ottoman and looked out. He had a +book in his hand, but did not open it. He was too hungry to read, for +he had only taken a cup of coffee and a crust of bread that morning at +half-past six, and he fell into an idle reverie. + +"Shall I be able to keep my resolution and bear on with this +monotony?" he said, half aloud, as he watched unconsciously the +flickering sunlight upon the lawn. "A few months of this inexpensive +life, and I shall see my way out of embarrassment more clearly than I +do now, I will _not_ be indebted to Isaac for my deliverance--no, I +won't; and if there were only some break in the life here--some +relief--if d'Estival himself were only back----" + +The door at the opposite end of the room opened, and a portly, +pleasant-looking woman, who might be the mistress of the house in her +plain morning costume, or its respectable housekeeper, looked in, and +told Mr. St. John his breakfast was served. + +"Thank you, Madame Baret," he said, not in the least sorry to hear it. +And as he followed her from the room, in all the alacrity of hunger, +he did not observe that his pocket-handkerchief fell to the ground. + +It was about this time that the party from Beaufoy reached the Lodge, +Madame de Castella grumbling dreadfully. She had borne the heat pretty +patiently through the shaded shrubbery, but in the open ground, and in +that brazen cornfield, which had not so much as a hedge, or a green +blade of grass on which to rest the dazzled eye, it had been intensely +felt. A shocking state her complexion would be in! She could feel +incipient blisters on it already. + +"Dear mamma, it is not so bad as that," laughed Adeline, "it is only a +little red. Let us go in by the gate at once to the painting-room! +Madame Baret will keep us talking for an hour, especially when she +gets to know who Mary is." + +"I am too hot to look at paintings," querulously returned Madame de +Castella. "You may go to the painting-room, but I shall seek Madame +Baret, and get a draught of milk. I never was so hot in my life." + +She went on to the house as she spoke. Adeline and Mary passed +through the little gate of the secluded garden, and sat down in the +painting-room. + +Oh, how delightful it was there! how delightful! They had come in from +the broad glare, the sultry midday heat, to that shady place; the +eye, fatigued with the dazzling light, had found a rest, the fields +looked burnt up and brown, but here the grass was fresh and green; the +cool, sparkling waters of the fountain were playing, and those lovely +flower-beds emitted the sweetest perfume. It was grateful as is the +calm, silvery moonlight after a day of blazing heat. Never had Mary +Carr seen a place that so forcibly spoke to her mind of rest and +peace. + +Adeline was the first to rise from her seat: something in another part +of the room attracted her attention. + +"Mary! look at this! a painting on the easel! and in progress! +Grandmamma said M. d'Estival was away!" + +Miss Carr turned her head, and in that glance, the first she had +really bestowed on the apartment, thought its contents the most +heterogeneous mass she had ever beheld. Adeline continued to look at +the easel. + +"There are touches here of a master's hand. It must be M. d'Estival. +He paints beautifully. Many of these copies are by him. Or can it be +an artist he has here?" + +"Adeline, you have dropped your handkerchief," said Miss Carr, rising, +and picking up one from the floor. She turned to its four corners. In +the first three there was no name; in the last, not "A. L. de C.," as +she expected, but, worked in hair, and surmounted by a crest, +"Frederick St. John." + +A presentiment of the truth flashed across her brain. A confused +remembrance of a young man of noble presence, a French marigold, and +Rose Darling's superstitious fears that he would exercise some +blighting influence over _her_ future life. She called to Adeline with +breathless interest, and the latter came to her immediately, aroused +by the tone. + +"See this, Adeline!" pointing to the name. "It is neither yours nor +mine." + +Adeline read it quite indifferently. + +"_Don't_ you remember--on your ball-night--he with the French +marigold?" + +"Frederick St. John," said Adeline, carelessly, taking the +handkerchief in her hand. "Yes, it is the same name. Probably the same +person." + +How calmly she spoke; how indifferently! An utter stranger, a name she +had never heard, could not have excited in her less interest. There +was no shadow on her spirit of what was to come. + +At that moment the inner door opened, and Mr. St. John entered. Mary +Carr started with surprise, for she had not observed that any door was +there. Mr. St. John also stood, momentarily transfixed, wondering, no +doubt, who they were, and how they got there, like the flies in amber. +He at once apologized for having so unceremoniously entered the room, +not being aware that it was occupied. + +"The apology is due from us, Mr. St. John," interrupted Adeline. "You +do not recollect me?" she continued, seeing his surprised look at the +mention of his name. + +Was it likely? He had seen her but once, months before, in her +brilliant ball-dress; now she was in morning attire, her face shaded +by a bonnet. + +"It seems my fate to be in unlawful possession of your property," +continued Adeline, holding out the handkerchief. "The first time we +met, I deprived you of a flower, and now----" + +"My dear Mademoiselle de Castella!" he interrupted, his features +lighting up with pleasure as he took both her hands. "Pray pardon me. +Do not think I had forgotten you. But indeed you were almost the last +person I could have expected to meet here." True. That there was such +a place as Beaufoy in the neighbourhood he knew, but not that the +Castellas were in any way connected with it. + +"Are you staying here?" asked Adeline. + +"Yes." And he explained how it happened that he was so. He had met the +Count d'Estival (whom he had known previously) in Paris this spring, +and had accepted an invitation to accompany him home. Soon after their +arrival the count had received a summons to Holland on family +business, and he had made St. John promise to await his return. + +"This young lady is a connection of M. d'Estival's," said Adeline. +"You have heard of the Carrs of Holland--of Rotterdam?" + +Mr. St. John smiled. "The Carrs of Holland are renowned people in my +county. Westerbury boasts of its famous trial still." + +"And you know, then, that the Reverend Robert Carr married Emma +d'Estival," continued Adeline. "This is Mary Carr, his only sister." + +A saddened light came into Frederick St John's eyes as he took her +hands in greeting. The reminiscences brought all too palpably to his +mind one who had been very dear to him--the dead college boy. + +Madame de Castella entered the room, and they all seemed at home with +each other at once. Mr. St. John went round the walls with them, +pointing out the beauties and merits of the paintings, though the +Castellas had seen them before. + +"I perceive you are an artist," observed Madame de Castella, looking +at the painting on the easel. + +"I have only the talents of an amateur, greatly as I love the art, +much as I have practised it. If I ever wish myself other than what I +am, it is that I could be one of our great painters. How little is +known in England of Velasquez' portraits!" he exclaimed, looking +lovingly on the original he was copying. + +"Or in France either," returned Madame de Castella "Believe me, Mr. +St. John, no one can appreciate the Spanish school of painting until +they obtain a knowledge of the collections in Spain." + +"You are quite right," he answered. + +"Have you been in Spain?" + +"I believe I have been everywhere, so far as Europe goes, where there +is a gallery of paintings to be seen." + +"And do you like the Spanish school?" + +"Pretty well." + +"Only that? I am sorry to hear you say so." + +"Spanish painting has a character peculiar to itself," resumed Mr. St. +John. "At least, I have always thought so. The artists were not free: +they were compelled to bend to those laws that restricted their +pencils to delineations of religious subjects. Had they been at +liberty to exercise their genius unfettered, they would have left more +valuable mementos behind them. Imagination is the very life and soul +of painting; curb that, and you can expect but little." + +"I suppose you are right," said Madame de Castella. + +Madame Baret came in, and joined the party. She was related to the +Count d'Estival. Some years before, her husband, who was then a small +proprietor, risked his money in a speculation, and was ruined. M. +d'Estival stepped in, and offered them an asylum with him. They +accepted it, upon condition that they should be permitted to be +useful. Madame became the active mistress and manager of the house, +her husband the superintendent of the land and farm. But though they +did make themselves useful, both indoors and out, somewhat after the +manner of upper servants, they were gentlepeople still, and received +due consideration and respect. + +"Who is that painting by?" inquired Madame de Castella, stopping +before a group of portraits. + +"It is a copy of one of Van Dyck's," said Mr. St. John. "There hangs +the original. But it is admirably executed." + +"It is, indeed," replied Madame de Castella. "To my unpractised eye, +it looks equal to the original." + +"Almost," assented Mr. St. John. "Except in the transparency of the +skin, and there Van Dyck cannot be rivalled." + +"Whose is that gorgeous landscape?" + +"An original of Claude Lorraine's." + +"To be sure. I might have told it by the colouring. And that next, Mr. +St. John?" + +"One of Correggio's." + +"I don't much admire it." + +"It is cold, but faultless," was Mr. St. John's reply, "as Correggio's +productions generally are." + +"Do you paint portraits from life, Mr. St. John?" + +"I have done so; and would again, if I found a subject to my taste." + +"What better study, for a fine old head, than your good hostess, +here?" rejoined Madame de Castella, lowering her voice. + +St. John laughed; a pleasant laugh. To Mary Carr's ear it seemed to +imply that he did not care to paint old women. "Will you permit me to +try my hand at yours?" he said to Madame de Castella. + +"No, indeed, thank you," she answered. "Mine has already been taken +three times, and I don't like the fatigue of sitting." + +The silvery chimes of the antique clock on its pedestal told three +before they took their departure. Not half the time appeared to have +elapsed: could it be the charm of St. John's conversation that caused +it to fly so rapidly, or the merits of the pictures? He escorted them +across the fields to the gate of their own shrubbery: and Madame de +Castella invited him to visit them in the evening. + +At dinner, the conversation fell upon Mr. St. John. Madame de Castella +expressed herself delighted that so agreeable a man should be located +near them, and laughed at her sister, Mademoiselle Agnes, for not +having found him out before. He was a thorough gentleman, a high-bred +man of the world, she said, and his society would help them to pass +away the time pleasantly during M. de Castella's absence in Paris. +Before they had done talking of him, St. John entered. + +He was in slight mourning, his evening attire very plain and quiet, +but he bore about him always a nameless elegance. Mary Carr looked at +him with admiration--as did probably the rest; but for them she could +not answer. There was a peculiar charm in his manner she had never +seen in any other man's. Describe in what it lay, she could not, but +it attracted to him all with whom he came in contact. His conversation +was eloquent and animated, but his bearing calm and still. Before he +left, he promised M. de Castella to dine with them the next evening. + +In the morning, M. de Castella, Adeline, and Mary Carr, walked over to +the lodge, where they stayed some hours. M. de Castella, unlike his +wife, could never tire of looking at the paintings. The time seemed to +fly. It is scarcely to be described how very much they had become at +home with Mr. St. John--they were as familiar and dear friends. + +Something was said in jest about his taking Adeline's likeness; but +these jests grow into earnest now and then. Mary Carr could hardly +tell how it came to be decided, but decided it was when he came up to +dinner in the evening. Signor and Madame de Castella were delighted at +the idea of possessing a portrait of her, and the old lady was so +eager, she wanted it to be begun off-hand. Adeline, too, was nothing +loth: it was gratifying to her innocent and pardonable vanity. + +On the Friday morning--unlucky day!--Adeline sat to Mr. St. John for +the first time. Her father and Miss Carr were with her. Afterwards he +again went to dine at the château: the evening seemed dull now that +did not bring them Mr. St. John. Truly the acquaintance was short +enough to say this. On the following morning early, M. de Castella +departed for Paris, and after breakfast Adeline and Mary Carr +proceeded to the lodge with Madame de Castella. The sitting was long, +and Madame de Castella could not conceal her weariness. To many, the +opportunity of examining the paintings would have been pleasure +sufficient, but not to her. In point of fact, she had no taste for the +fine arts, and after Tuesday's cursory renewed view of them, the task +proved irksome. She complained much, too, of the walk in the morning +heat. The truth was--and it is as well to confess it--that during +these periodical visits to the Château de Beaufoy, Madame de Castella +lived in a chronic state of ennui. Young and good-looking still, fond +of the world, the dulness of Beaufoy was a very penance to her. She +went through it willingly as a duty: she loved her mother; but she +could not help the weariness affecting her spirits. + +The sitting this first morning was long and weary: but for talking +with Mr. St. John, she never could have sat through it. Their +conversation turned upon Rome--a frequent theme. Mary Carr thought +that were she to remain long with them she should become as well +acquainted with the Eternal City as though she had visited it. St. +John seemed wonderfully attached to it; as were the Castellas. He had +a portfolio of drawings of it, from his own pencil: some of them +highly-finished coloured specimens; others bare sketches, to be filled +up from memory; the lines of genius apparent in all. The portefeuille +was often referred to: even Madame de Castella had been content to +look over it for a full hour. It was a motley collection. A sketch of +the lovely Alban hills; the ruins of an aqueduct; a temple of Pæstum; +the beauties of Tivoli; the ruins of the Cæsars' palaces; St. Peter's +in its magnificence; a view from the Appian Way; a drawing of the +Porta San Giovanni; an imaginative sketch of a gorgeous palace of Rome +in its zenith; a drawing of one of its modern villas; a temple of +Jupiter; Sallust's garden; and the tomb, still so perfect, of Cecilia +Metella. There were fanciful moonlight views of the now almost +uninhabited hills, Palatino, Celio, and Aventino. There was one +masterly, gloomy painting of a grove of pines and cypress trees, +overlooking a heap of ruins. Lying side by side with it, was one of a +life-like garden, with its marble fountains, its colonnades, its +glimpses of tinted flowers, its blooming orange and lemon trees, its +cascades and pillars, its wreathing vines, its polished statues, and +its baths of Alexandrian marble; and, over all, the bright blue of an +Italian sky, and the glowing beams of an Italian sun. + +"May I ask a favour of you?" said Madame de Castella, addressing +Madame Baret when they were going away. + +"As many as you like," returned the smiling dame, ever good-humoured. + +"I cannot possibly endure these hot walks every day until the sittings +are over. When I do not come myself, will you kindly bear my daughter +company while she is here, and take charge of her? Louise can attend +her in walking hither." + +"With the greatest pleasure," returned Madame Baret. "I will take +every care of her. But there is nothing here that can harm +Mademoiselle." + +"_I_ will take care of her," interrupted St. John, in low, earnest +tones to Madame de Castella. "No harm shall come near her. I will +guard her from all: more anxiously than if she were my own sister." + +Adeline partly caught the words, and blushed at their earnestness. It +was impossible to doubt the young man's honourable feeling, or his +wish to save her from all harm, real or imaginary. What _his_ exact +meaning was, Mary Carr did not know, but some of the others, it would +appear, were thinking of outward, visible danger. Madame Baret had +been cautioning Adeline never to come through the field where the +savage bull was let loose, though it did cut off a portion of the +road; and Madame de Castella besought her not to sit with the two +doors open, and always to keep her bonnet on for a few minutes after +she came in, that she might become cool before removing it. Adeline +laughed, and promised obedience to all. + +Louise, the lady's-maid, commenced her attendance on the Monday. She +did not appear to relish the walk more than did her mistress, and +displayed an enormous crimson parapluie, which she held between her +face and the sun. At the door of the painting-room, she handed the +young ladies over to the charge of Mr. St. John, and then left them. +Madame de Castella never understood but that Louise remained with her +young mistress in the painting-room: does not understand the contrary +to this day. She certainly intended her to do so, notwithstanding her +request to Madame Baret. But Louise was a most inveterate gossip, +and to sit silent and restrained before her superiors in the +painting-room, gaping at its beauties, which she could not comprehend, +when she might be exercising her tongue with Madame Baret's housemaid +and bonne, Juliette, in her sewing-chamber, or with Madame Baret's +stout maid-of-all-work in the kitchen, was philosophy beyond +Mademoiselle Louise. Neither did Madame Baret always sit with Adeline. +Her various occupations, as active mistress of the house, and +especially of those two idle servants, frequently called her away. Nor +did she give a thought to there being any necessity for her doing so. +What harm, as she had observed, could come near Adeline? + +"How long have you been here, Mr. St. John?" inquired Mary Carr, as, +the sitting over--sooner than it need have been--they strolled into +the garden. + +"Nearly a month. Perhaps I may stay here until winter." + +"In this dull place! Why?" + +He laughed as he avowed the truth. That he had been +extravagant--imprudent--and had outrun his income. In the world he +should only get deeper into the mire, but there he was spending next +to nothing. A little patience: it would all come right in time. + +"What shrub do you call this, Adeline?" inquired Mary Carr, by way of +changing the conversation, and vexed at her inquisitiveness. + +"Candleberry myrtle, in English," replied Adeline. "We were staying at +Rambouillet some years ago, and brought some suckers from the forest. +It grows there in great abundance. Mamma gave some to M. d'Estival, +and he planted them here." + +Suddenly, Mr. St. John made a motion of silence, and, bending +stealthily towards Adeline, half closed his hand, and swept it quickly +over the side of her throat. A wasp had settled on her neck. + +"There it goes," he said, dashing it into the water of the fountain. +"You know," he continued, half playfully, half tenderly, gazing into +her face, and interrupting her efforts at thanks, "that I have +undertaken to shield you from harm. It shall be my earnest care to do +so, now and ever." + +A shade crossed Adeline's countenance. Did she _already_ regret her +marriage contract? or was she in danger of forgetting it altogether? +There was nothing to remind her of it: even the engagement-ring was no +longer on her finger. It was too large for her, and quite a source of +trouble to keep on, so she had put it into her jewel-box: where it +lay, uncared for. + +"Mr. St. John! the wasp has stung your hand!" + +"Yes, he revenged himself by leaving his sting there. It is nothing. +And, indeed, will serve as an excuse to Madame de Castella for my +idleness today." + +"You know I leave tomorrow," said Mary, turning to him. "Will you +send me up a bouquet of these beautiful flowers to take to Rose +Darling?" + +"You shall be obeyed, fair lady. How large will you have it? The size +of Louise's parapluie?" + +With the next morning came the bouquet, Mr. St. John himself being the +bearer. His visit had a twofold purport, he observed: to bid adieu to +Miss Carr, and to walk with Adeline down to the Lodge. He had been +thinking it might be better, he said to Madame de Castella, that he +should escort Adeline to and fro, until the return of M. de Castella. +Mary Carr glanced at his countenance as he spoke: she saw that his +words were honest; that there was no hidden meaning; that the +protection of Adeline was then the sole motive which actuated him. + +Ten o'clock struck as they were talking, and, with the last stroke, +came round the carriage to convey Miss Carr to Odesque, where she was +to take the train. + +"May I whisper a caution to you?" said Mary, pressing her lips to +Adeline's, in parting. + +"A caution! Fifty, if you like." + +"Do not fall in love with Frederick St. John." + +"Mary!" + +"From the position in which you stand--engaged to another--it might +lead to endless misery." + +"There is no danger of it," returned Adeline, breathlessly. "If there +were, do you suppose papa and mamma would suffer me to be with him? +How could any such idea enter your head, Mary Carr? You are taking a +leaf from Rose's book." + +Papa and mamma! Truth was in her accent, but how little she +understood. + +"I am willing to believe that there is no danger," was Miss Carr's +reply. "_I hope you will be able so to speak when we next meet_. Do +not feel angry with me, Adeline. I have but your interest at heart." + +Mr. St. John conducted Miss Carr to the carriage, and, in shaking +hands, he jestingly begged her to give his love to Rose: they had +talked much of her. As he stood there on the stone steps, bareheaded, +until Mary should drive away, her last look lingered on him; and again +that uneasy doubt shot through her mind--how impossible that Adeline +should live in continual companionship with such a man, and not learn +to love him! + +Miss Carr was received by Madame de Nino with a scolding and a threat +of punishment. She had exceeded her time of absence by a day. But Mary +laid the blame upon Madame de Castella, and handed in a note of +apology from that lady. Madame was only half soothed; but she +graciously remitted the punishment. + +Mary drew Rose Darling aside. "Won't you admire these lovely flowers? +They were sent for you." + +Rose was sulky. She had been in a furious state of envy during Mary's +visit, because she was not invited herself. + +"Of all the human race, Rose, playing out their course upon this +variable world of ours, who do you suppose is located just now within +a stone's throw of the Château de Beaufoy?" + +"I dare say it's nobody I know," said Rose, cross still. + +"You know and admire him. A young and handsome man. He gathered these +flowers for you--see how rare they are!--and he sent them with his +love." + +She looked up sharply; and her mind reverted to one who, perhaps, was +seldom absent from it. But another moment sufficed to show how idle +was the thought; and the current of ideas led her to another. + +"Not Lord John Seymour?" + +"No; what should bring him there? Frederick St. John." + +"He! You are joking, Mary Carr." + +"I am not. He is staying quite close to them. We saw a great deal of +him. And--Rose!--he is taking Adeline's portrait!" + +"Allez toujours," exclaimed Rose, using a familiar French expression. +"I told you once before, Mary Carr, that that man, my pseudo-cousin, +would exercise some extraordinary influence over Adeline de Castella's +future life; and I now tell it you again." + + + + +CHAPTER XX. +LOVE'S FIRST DREAM. + + +Hours, days, weeks, rolled on, after the departure of Miss Carr from +the Château de Beaufoy, and no outward change had taken place in its +occupants. But in the inward heart of one, how much! + +The portrait progressed towards its completion, though not rapidly. It +was a good likeness of Adeline, and admirably executed. St. John had +exactly caught that sad expression which sometimes sat on her +features, forming their chief interest: earth's sorrow mingling with +the heavenly beauty of an angel. Had the portrait been preserved, +people might have said afterwards they could read her history there. + +St. John was also teaching Adeline drawing: or, rather, trying to +improve her in it. One day Madame de Castella desired her to produce +her school-drawings--and she had done none since she left. +Accordingly, some chalk-heads and a few landscapes came forth. There +was not much taste displayed in the heads, St. John observed; more in +the landscapes, in two of them especially--a glimpse of the Nile and +some lotus lilies, its fountains surrounded by their date-trees; and a +charming scene in her own fair land. That there was great room for +improvement, every one could but acknowledge, and Mr. St. John offered +to give her some lessons. All of them--Madame de Castella, Aunt Agnes, +and the old grandmother--were pleased at his offer. How could they be +so blind? How could they be so thoughtless? St. John had acquired an +extraordinary influence over them all. Madame de Castella was much +attached to him; she seemed to feel a sort of pride in him, as a fond +mother will feel in the perfections of an only son. He frequently +dined with them; all his evenings were spent there as a matter of +course. He had become necessary to their everyday life. When he was +away, nothing went right; when he was present, it was sunshine to all. +And yet they forgot that there was another who might be equally awake +to the charms his presence brought; the only one to whom it could +bring real danger. Perhaps the thought of danger to Adeline's heart +never entered the head of Madame de Castella: perhaps, if it ever did +momentarily cross her, she deemed that Adeline, from her engagement, +was safe. + +Many an hour, when Madame de Castella innocently deemed that Adeline +was sitting mumchance in the painting-room, Louise embroidering her +own caps, at which she was a famous hand, by her side, and Mr. St. +John working hard at the portrait, without a thought beside it, would +two out of those three be idling their morning underneath the +lime-trees, St. John reading to her, chiefly books of poetry, its +theme often love. Then he would lay down the book, and talk to her, in +that tender, persuasive voice so soothing to the ear but dangerous to +the heart. Thus they would sit on for hours, her hand sometimes +clasped in his, he the reader, she the listener, devouring together +this sweet and subtle poetry, which has in it so much of fascination. +Oh, the hazardous life for the heart's peace!--when both were in the +heyday of youth, singularly attractive, and one, at least, had never +loved. And yet it was neither stopped nor interfered with, nor was its +danger suspected. + +One day they were standing at the open doors of the painting-room. Mr. +St. John was speaking of Castle Wafer. He had before described its +attractions, natural and imparted, to Adeline, had made sketches for +her of some of its points, from memory. He was saying that when Castle +Wafer was his own--and it would be some time--he should build a room +similar to the one they were now in, for himself and his work, and lay +out a plot of ground as the plot before them was laid out: it would +serve as a momento of this period of their early acquaintance. "And in +that room, Adeline," he continued, "we will spend a great portion of +our time." + +"We!" exclaimed Adeline. + +The interruption awoke him to reality; for he had been as one buried +in a dream, and was unconscious at the moment that he spoke aloud. +Laughing as he made his apology, he bent his head towards her; but +even then his voice took a dangerously sweet and persuasive tone. + +He had spoken inadvertently. But, the truth was, he had latterly +been so accustomed, in his inmost self, to associate Adeline +with hereafter--his future plans, his future home, his future +happiness--that he had unguardedly given utterance to his presumptuous +thoughts: he would not so offend again. + +She glanced timidly at him, earnest tears in her eyes, glowing blushes +on her cheeks. In her heart she would have wished to tell him how far +he had been from giving her offence. + +Another time he was walking home with Adeline, Louise and her great +crimson parapluie streaming, as usual, a good way behind them, when, +in jumping from a stile, Adeline twisted her foot. The pain for the +moment was intense: Mr. St. John saw it, by her countenance; and he +stole his arms round her and sheltered her head on his arm. All these +signs must mean--something. + +That time had come for Adeline which must come for us all--the +blissful period of love's first dream. She did not at first understand +the magic of the charm that was stealing over her, making all, within +and without, a paradise. She had assured Miss Carr that there was no +danger of her loving Mr. St. John, yet even then, though she suspected +it not, the golden links of the net were fastening on her heart. And +when she awoke to the real nature of these sweet sensations, it was +too late to fly the danger--the power and the will to do so were alike +over. + +How many varied degrees of the passion called love there are, can +never be ascertained, for one human being cannot experience the +feelings of another. The love--so called--felt by the generality of +mortals, everyday, practical men and women, is so essentially +different from that which takes root in a highly passionate, +imaginative temperament, refined and intellectual, that the two have +no affinity one with the other. This last passion is known but to few, +and apart from themselves, can be imagined by none. The world could +not understand this love, it is of a different nature from anything +they can know; they would laugh at, while they disbelieved in it. It +has been asserted that this highly-wrought passion, the ecstatic bliss +of which, while it lasts, no earthly language could express, never +ends happily. I believe that it never does. The dream comes to an end, +and the heart's life with it. Perhaps nearly a whole existence has yet +to be dragged through, but all enjoyment in the world and the world's +things is gone, and nothing can ever again awaken a pulse in the +veins, a thrill in the worn and beaten heart. The smile may sit upon +the lip, the jest may issue from it; gay beaming glances may dart from +the eye, and their hollowness is not suspected, nor the desolation +that has long settled within. You who read this, may meet it in a +spirit of dispute and ridicule: then it is because you cannot +understand it. And be thankful that it is so--that to you the power, +so fatally to love, has been spared. + +It was a passion of this latter and rare description which had taken +root in the bosom of Adeline de Castella. She could not have loved as +the world loves, for she was one of those who live but in the inward +life. There was a mine of sentiment and poetry within her, and it +wanted but a touch like this to awaken it. Now, she lived in the +present; before, she had lived in the future; hereafter, she would +live in the past. She rose in the morning, and there was no wish +beyond the day, the seeing Mr. St. John; she retired to rest at night, +only to dream of him, and to awake to the bliss of another day. Nature +had never looked to her as it looked now: the grass had been green, +but not of this green; the fragrance of the flowers had been +fragrance, but they had not borne their present sweetness; the song of +the birds, hitherto unmeaning, seemed now a carol of joyous praise to +their Creator; there was music in the winds and in the fluttering +breeze; there was rapture in the whole bright earth. Adeline was +living in a dream, not of this world but of Paradise; it could be +called nothing else; she was walking on the wings of the morning, +treading on the yielding flowers. It was well for her that it was not +destined to last; it is well for us all: or we should never ask, or +wish, for the heaven that is to come. + +And what of Mr. St. John? Did he love her? Beyond all doubt he loved +her, and would have made her his wife, and cherished her as such: but +whether in the idolatry of a first and impassioned attachment, or +whether in but the passing preference which some men will feel ten +times for as many women, can hardly be known. It was not given to the +world to penetrate Mr. St. John's secret feelings; but events shall be +faithfully related as they occurred. + +And meanwhile, as if Fate determined fully to have her fling, news +came from M. d'Estival, begging Mr. St. John to remain on at the +Lodge. That gentleman was detained in Holland by the lingering illness +of his brother; but he was happy, knowing that his cherished pictures +were under the care of his friend. + +And Mr. St. John did stay on, nothing loth, making the sunshine of the +château and the _life_ of Adeline. + +Existence was somewhat monotonous in itself at Beaufoy, as you may +readily conceive, if you have had the honour of sojourning in any of +these half-isolated French country houses: but there arrived an +invitation one day at Beaufoy, for dinner at a neighbouring dwelling. +Madame de Beaufoy had given up dinner-parties, but the others went. +Adeline would have liked to decline, but she dared not. + +She entered the carriage on the appointed evening, and sat in it +listless and absorbed. Mr. St. John was not going, and the hours not +spent with him were to her now as dead and lost. Madame de Castella +noticed her abstraction, and inquired if she were ill. + +"I have only a headache," replied Adeline, who was too English not to +have acquired the common excuse. + +"Maria!" exclaimed Mademoiselle de Beaufoy, suddenly addressing her +sister, "I declare, there's Mr. St. John! Where can he have been +walking to in this heat?" + +Adeline turned and saw him, a thrill of rapture rushing through her +veins. They returned his greeting, and drove on. + +Where can he be walking to t _She_ surmised--that it was but to obtain +a glimpse of her as their carriage passed. She was no longer pensive: +a heightened colour shone in her cheek, a brilliancy in her eye: her +spirits rose to exultation, and she went the rest of the way as one on +fairy wings. + +They sank again ere the evening was half over, the long, tame, +spiritless evening. To others it might seem gay; but not to her: her +heart was far away, and she only cared that it should end and the +morrow be nearer. No singing, after his voice, brought music to her +ear; the dancing was no longer the dancing of other days. + +The next day was the birthday of Mademoiselle de Beaufoy; a fête +always kept with much ceremony. A dinner was to be given in the +evening, and M. de Castella was expected to arrive for it from Paris. +In the course of the day a note was handed to Adeline, its handwriting +bringing a wild flush of pleasure to her cheeks. It was from Mr. St. +John, stating that he was called to Odesque to meet a friend, who +would be passing through it on his way to Paris, and he did not know +whether he could return for dinner. It was only a short note, worded +as a brother might write to a sister; yet she hung enraptured over its +few lines, and held it to her heart; she almost cried aloud in her +excess of ecstasy; and stealthily, her cheeks a rosy red, and her face +turned to the darkest corner of the room, she pressed to her lips its +concluding words--"Frederick St. John." The first letter from one we +love!--what an epoch it is in life! It stands alone in memory; the ONE +letter of existence; bearing no analogy to the stern real ones of +later years. + +The return of Signor de Castella, after an absence, had once been a +joyous event to Adeline. Now, she looked forward to it with +indifference. It was not that she loved her father less; but other +feelings had grown tame in comparison with this new passion that +absorbed her. The day wore on, however, and the Signor did not come. + +The guests arrived, all save one, and dinner would be announced +immediately. Adeline was waiting and hoping for Mr. St. John: but she +waited in vain. How inexpressibly lovely she looked in her evening +dress, with the rose-flush of excitement on her cheeks, some of those +guests remember to this day. A strange, sick feeling of expectancy had +taken possession of her; she scarcely knew what was passing. Questions +were addressed to her, which she answered at random, scarcely hearing +their purport. Was _another_ evening to pass without seeing him? + +A sudden opening of the door. The servant threw it wide upon its +portals. Adeline caught one glimpse beyond it, and heard the man's +words: + +"Monsieur de Saint John." For those French servants always put in the +"de" when speaking of _him_. + +She turned, in her agitation, to one who sat next to her, and spoke +rapid sentences to cover it. She did not look, but she felt he had +advanced to Madame de Beaufoy, now to Madame de Castella, and now he +was speaking a few whispered words of congratulation to Agnes. She +hoped he would not come to her just then; her tremor was already too +great for concealment. Oh, the rapture, the unspeakable rapture that +thrilled through her whole soul at his presence! That a human being, +one like ourselves, should bring such! + +They were pairing off to the dining-room. St. John was talking with +one of the lady guests, and Adeline saw him turn sharply round, as if +he would have advanced to her. But a wealthy neighbouring proprietor, +rejoicing in the long-sounding title of Monsieur le Comte Le Coq de +Monty, took the white tips of Adeline's gloved fingers within his own. + +But he sat next her. Whether by accident, or successful manoeuvring, +or original design, he sat next her. More than once, in the course of +the elaborate dinner, their hands--_their_ hands!--met, under cover of +the table-linen, and then the whole world around was to her as +nothing. + +Frederick St. John shone to advantage in society. Handsome without +affectation, gay without levity, accomplished without display, he yet +possessed, amidst all his solid conversational powers, that apt +gallantry which wins its way, that readiness at light phrases which +takes captive the ear. He had the great advantage also of speaking +French almost as a native: only by a slight accent once in a way, +could a Frenchman detect the foreigner. If he held those guests +spell-bound that evening, in what sort of spell do you suppose he must +have held Adeline! It was a man of subtle wisdom who first recorded +that phrase of truth--Man's heart is lost through the eye, but woman's +through the ear. + +Mr. St. John remained after the guests had departed. When he said +farewell, Madame de Castella, in talking, stepped out with him to the +colonnade, and descended the steps. Her sister and Adeline followed. +It was a lovely night. The transition from the hot rooms, with their +many lights, to the cool pure atmosphere without was inexpressibly +grateful, and they walked with him to the shrubbery and part of the +way down it. Madame de Castella suddenly recollected Adeline. Her +voice, as she spoke, had a tone of alarm in it. + +"This change to cool air may not be well for you, Adeline. You have +nothing on. Let us run back: who will be indoors first? Good night, +Mr. St. John." + +She turned with Agnes de Beaufoy, and the windings of the shrubbery +soon hid them from view Adeline would have followed, but a beloved arm +had encircled her and held her back, Frederick St. John drew her +towards him, and snatched the first sweet tremulous kiss of love. +Maidenly reserve caused her to draw away from him, otherwise she could +have wished that kiss to last for ever. "Oh, Frederick! if mamma----" +was the only agitated rejoinder that came from her lips, and she sped +away, her hand lingering, to the last, in his. + +"Why, Adeline!" exclaimed her aunt, as she came up, "lame as I am, I +can beat you at running." + +She went up to her chamber. She stood at the window, looking out on +the lovely scene, yet scarcely heeding it; her hands pressed upon her +bosom to keep down its agitation and its excess of happiness. She +glanced up at the starry heavens, and wondered if the bliss, promised +there, could exceed this of earth. She seemed to be realizing some +ecstatic fairy-dream of her childhood. How long she stood there, she +knew not. Silently she paced her chamber, unable to rest. She recalled +his whispered words; she recalled those fleeting moments which had +been an era in her life: and when she at last sank into a wearied +slumber, it was only to live the reality over again; to dream that +that light touch of Mr. St. John's on her lips was present, not past. + +The next morning Madame de Beaufoy was ill: she had an indigestion; a +very favourite malady with the French. Madame de Castella was anxious, +somewhat uneasy; for no letter had arrived from her husband to account +for his non-appearance. She hoped it might come by the evening post. +They had many visitors that day, and Adeline thought it would never +end. + +After dinner Madame de Beaufoy was well enough to sit up and play at +cards in her dressing-room, her two daughters bearing her company. +Adeline was downstairs alone, privately expecting Mr. St. John; now, +standing before a mirror, hastily passing a finger over the braids of +her luxuriant hair: now glancing, with conscious vanity, at the rich +crimson which expectancy called to her cheeks; now, stealing to the +colonnade, and looking and listening. + +Suddenly the room-door opened, and Adeline stepped in from the +colonnade, her heart beating wildly. But it was only her mother: who +began to rummage amongst the silks and worsteds of an ivory basket. +"Only her mother!" How full of ingratitude is the heart to those who +have cherished us from infancy, when this all-potent passion for a +stranger takes root in it! + +"Adeline, your aunt has mislaid her green floss-silk. Will you look in +my work-box?" + +Adeline unlocked the box, found the silk, and handed it to her mother. +Again the door opened, and this time her pulse did not quicken in +vain. It was Mr. St. John. + +"I am glad to see Madame de Beaufoy is better," he observed as he came +in. "She nodded to me from her dressing-room." + +"Oh yes, thank you. Ah, here's news at last!" exclaimed Madame de +Castella, as the old Spanish servant, Silva, entered with a letter. +And with a "pardon" to Mr. St. John, she broke the seal. She was very +French sometimes. + +"M. de Castella has been detained," she explained, skimming the +contents: "he will not be here for a week. The truth is, Mr. St. John, +he always finds Beaufoy painfully triste, and makes excuses for +remaining away from it. Adeline, here is a message for you." + +Adeline glanced up half frightened. These instincts are rarely wrong. + +"Your papa desires his love to you, and---- You are quite a family +friend now, Mr. St. John," broke off Madame de Castella, "so I do not +hesitate to speak before you. I dare say the subject is as well known +to you as it is to ourselves: you are like a son of the house, a +brother to Adeline." + +Mr. St. John bowed. + +"This is what your papa says, Adeline," continued Madame, translating +as she read: "'Make my love to my dear Adeline; tell her not to be +vexed at my additional week's delay, for I shall bring De la Chasse +with me when I come.' You are no doubt aware, I say, Mr. St. John, of +the position the baron holds in our family in regard to Adeline." + +Another bow from Mr. St. John. + +"And now I must ask you to excuse me for a few minutes, while I take +this silk to my mother," pursued Madame. "When not well she is a +little exacting. I will be down almost immediately. Adeline, do your +best to entertain Mr. St. John." + +He closed the door after Madame de Castella, and returned to Adeline. +She was leaning against the window-frame, endeavouring to look all +unconscious and at ease, but evidently hardly able to support herself. +Her face had turned pale; a sort of startled despair had settled on +it. The evil moment, which throughout all this golden time she had +never dared to look in the face, was at hand now. + +Mr. St. John wound his arm round her, and became himself her support. +He called her by the most endearing names, he pressed the sweetest +kisses on her lips: he besought her not to give way to despondency: he +assured her there was no cause for it, for that never, never should +she be any other's wife than his. + +He had been silent hitherto, so far as open avowal went; but that was +over now. He spoke cheeringly of his plans and prospects; of winning +the consent of Signor de Castella to their union. He pictured their +future home in the land of his birth---the land which she had always +loved. And Adeline, as she listened to his soothing words, never a +shade of doubt clouding them, grew reassured and calm. She almost +felt, as she stood there by his side and looked into his honest +earnest eyes, that no power on earth could avail to separate them, if +he willed that it should not. + +When Madame de Castella returned to the room, delightfully +unconscious, words which no time could obliterate, at least in one +heart, had been spoken. They had betrothed themselves, each to the +other, until death should divide them. A less formal betrothal, it is +true; but oh, how much more genuine than that other in which Adeline +de Castella had borne a part. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. +A FADING CHILD. + + +There arrived one morning a missive at the house of Madame de Nino, +addressed to that renowned preceptress herself. It was from Madame +de Castella, and contained a pressing invitation for two of her +pupils--you will be at no loss to divine which--to spend some weeks at +Beaufoy. + +Madame called the two young ladies up after morning class, told them +of the invitation, and handed to each a little sealed note from +Adeline, which had been enclosed in the letter. This much certainly +must be said for Madame de Nino's establishment: bad as the soup and +bouilli were, she never opened the girls' letters. + +"Of course you cannot go," observed Madame. "It would be unreasonable +to suppose it." + +"Oh, Madame!" exclaimed Rose. + +"You would lose all chance of the prizes, my children," cried Madame. +"And this is your last term at school, remember." + +"But we are too old, Madame, to care for school prizes." + +"Well," said Madame, "of course the decision as to Mademoiselle Rose +does not lie with me. Madame Darling being at present in the town, I +yield my authority to hers. If _she_ chooses to allow such an absence +at the most busy portion of the year, of course it must be so; but I +can only say that it will be more unreasonable than anything I have +met with in all my experience. In that case, Mademoiselle Mary----" + +"In that case, pray, pray dear Madame, suffer me to accompany her," +interrupted Mary Carr, in her pleading, soft, quiet tone. "My friends +would like me to do so, I know. Beaufoy is close to M. d'Estival's." + +"I think you are both in league against me," returned Madame. "You +English demoiselles never do care properly for the prizes." + +And she went away, saying no more then. Mary Carr wrote a little note +to her brother Robert's widow, in England, once Emma d'Estival, asking +her to intercede for her with Madame de Nino. + +Mrs. Darling, as you have gathered from Madame's words, was at +Belport. She had come to it only within a day or two, with her two +daughters, Margaret and Mary Anne. Not to see Miss Rose; that was not +the object of her visit; but hoping to meet her eldest daughter +Charlotte. + +All these past months, since she first quitted her native shores, had +Mrs. Carleton St. John been travelling about the Continent. Travelling +_about_; the word is put advisedly. Now hither, now thither; today in +one place, tomorrow in another; ever restless, ever on the wing. +France, Germany, Savoy, Switzerland: and now back on the coast of +France again and intending to try Flanders and Belgium. It seemed that +some power impelled her forward, forced change upon her; for no sooner +had she settled down in one spot, saying she should remain in it, than +she would suddenly start away for another. Her attendants wondered +whether she were quite sane: but she appeared more as one labouring +under the torture of a troubled spirit. It seemed like remorse. +Remorse for what? Ah, none could tell. That first foolish supposition +of Honour's was surely not a correct one--that the young heir, who +stood in her own son's light, had owed his death to her hands! +Nonsense! It was not likely. But, if so, why, how fearful a +retribution had overtaken her! She must know now that she had perilled +her soul for worse than nought; for the halls of Alnwick and their +rich lands were passing rapidly away from her into the hands of +strangers; passing away with her child's life. + +It was a singularly strange thing--and people talk of it yet--but +George St. John never recovered that memorable birthday night. The +puzzle was--_what_ had harmed him? Had he taken too much?--a fit of +over-eating, of indigestion if you will, is soon cured in a child. Had +he suffered a shock from fright?--_that_ was not likely to bring on +the bodily ailment, the weakness, under which he now laboured. His +mother had asked, asked with feverish lips and eager eyes, what could +be the matter with him. No one could answer her then; he would soon +get well, they supposed. She knew--it must be that she knew--all too +surely now. George St. John was in a decline--the same disease that +had killed his father. + +In writing to her mother in England, with whom she communicated from +time to time, Mrs. St. John had mentioned that she intended to take +Belport on her way into Flanders from Normandy, where she now was. She +should endeavour to get an experienced English sick-nurse in that +Anglo-French town, to travel with them and attend on George, and she +should of course see Rose. Mrs. Darling read the letter, and +determined she should also see some one else--herself. Charlotte had +been dexterously evading her all these months--as it seemed to the +anxious heart of Mrs. Darling. All her overtures to join her had been +declined; all her plans to reach some place where her daughter spoke +of staying were frustrated, because before she could start for it, +news came, generally from Prance (who was a private correspondent), +that Mrs. Carleton St. John was on the wing again and had left it. But +in the very hour that she read of this projected journey to Belport, +Mrs. Darling packed up her things in haste, and started. Mrs. St. John +had not arrived when she got there; and Mrs. Darling allowed Rose to +think the visit was paid for her especial benefit. This was from no +wish to deceive; Mrs. Darling was of too open a nature for that; but +she had an invincible dislike to speak of the affairs of Charlotte. + +Rose did not exhibit any particular gratitude. She was in a state of +chronic resentment at being kept so long at school; and she was shy at +first with her mother, not knowing how much Frank might have +communicated to her of the previous autumn's trip in the fishing-boat. +As to those two staid ladies, her sisters, Rose made no secret of the +contempt in which she held them. Rose was in perpetual hot water with +both: they were severe upon what they were pleased to term her +wildness; and Rose quietly shrugged her shoulders, French fashion, in +return, and called them "old maids" in their hearing. + +Rose carried Madame de Castella's invitation to her mother, and at +once received her sanction for the visit. Mrs. Darling, unless +interest led her the other way, was a most indulgent mother--just such +a one as Rose herself would make in time. She mentioned that Frederick +St. John of Castle Wafer was located close to the château, with some +of Mary Carr's friends. + +"Is he rich?" asked Rose. + +"Rich!" echoed Mrs. Darling. "Frederick St. John! He is rich in debts, +Rose. Frederick St. John came into a great deal of money when he was +twenty-one, but it is all gone; mortgaged, or something. Frank told me +about it. He went the pace, I conclude, as other young men do, and +there's no doubt that he gave away a great deal: he is large-hearted. +But what had helped to ruin him is his love for what he calls 'high +art,' his passion for pictures. He is half mad upon the point, I +should say: and what with buying up pictures of the old masters, and +lavishing money upon the painters of modern ones, and dancing all over +the world after galleries that nobody in their senses would ride a +mile to see, Frederick St. John and his means parted company. It is +impossible to help liking him, though, with all his imprudence. I knew +he was out of England--to the reputed sorrow of Sarah Beauclerc." + +Rose pricked up her ears. "Sarah Beauclerc! One of those Gorgon girls +in Eaton Place?" + +"No, no; quite the other branch of the family. The daughter of General +and Lady Sarah Beauclerc. Since Lady Sarah's death she has resided +with the Dean of Westerbury." + +"I think I saw her once," mused Rose, speaking slowly. "One of the +loveliest girls living." + +"Frederick St. John seemed to think so, I believe. But your sister +Margaret can tell you more about it than I can: she used to meet them +last year in town. Captain Budd said there was nothing in it; it was +only a case of flirtation; but Frank thought he was jealous; and +wanted to make up to Miss Beauclerc himself. By the way, Rose, he has +come into his title and is no longer Captain Budd. He is still in the +regiment, though: it was said that his uncle, old Lord Raynor, wished +it." + +"Mamma," interrupted Rose, "if anything should happen to little George +St. John, if he should die--would not Frederick St. John be the heir +to Alnwick Hall? And his brother of Castle Wafer its possessor?" + +Mrs. Darling started; she glanced over her shoulder, as though fearing +the walls had ears. "Hush, Rose! Better not think of such things. Were +you so to speak before Charlotte, I don't know what the consequences +might be. No one must breathe a hint that the child's life is in +danger--that there's so much as a chance of his dying." + +"If he be as ill as you give me to understand--and I suppose you have +your information from Prance," added Rose, in a spirit of hardihood, +for that subject also was interdicted--"Charlotte can't avoid seeing +his state herself. She possesses just as much keen sense as you do, +mamma, I can tell you that." + +"It is not a question of _sense_. Love blinds fond eyes to the very +worst, Rose." + +Rose threw back her golden curls. "Why does Charlotte go about in this +manner? One would think she had St. Vitus's dance. George might stand +a better chance of recovery if she would let him be at rest." + +"Rose, you are not to reflect on Charlotte, or on anything she chooses +to do," sharply reproved Mrs. Darling. "If she considers constant +change necessary for the child, she is right in giving it him. I hope +we shall find him better than we anticipate." + +Rose shrugged her shoulders---the retort for the reproof. "I'm sure +_I_ hope we shall find him well, poor little fellow. My firm belief +is, that Charlotte worries herself with straws--she's afraid for her +own sake of losing Alnwick." + +And Mrs. Darling replied by a deprecating gesture. Rose always would +have the last word, and always did have it. + +But ah! how false were these hopes. Charlotte St. John arrived at +Belport; and from the first moment that Mrs. Darling threw her eyes +upon the child, she saw that his days were numbered. There was no +particular disease; neither had there been any in the case of his +father; he was simply wasting gradually away; almost imperceptibly so +to those who were about him. + +"Oh, Charlotte! how thin and worn he looks. He is like a shadow." + +Mrs. Darling's incautious greeting broke from her in the first +startled moment. He _was_ like a shadow; like nothing else. His face +was wan and thin, his cheeks and his blue eyes were unnaturally +bright, his little hands were transparent, and his fair and pretty +curls looked damp and dead. + +"It is because he is tired," said Charlotte. "He will be all right +tomorrow." + +Was she really deceived as to the truth, or did she but wilfully +deceive herself? Mrs. Darling thought it was the former; she had not +yet admitted to herself the possibility--not yet _seen_ it--of the +boy's death. _She_ was changed, if you will; changed even more than +George; her beautiful cheeks were haggard and crimson, her eyes had a +wasting fire in them. She was quite well, she said; and so far as +bodily health went, there might be no reason to doubt the assertion. +Her disease lay in the mind. + +The meeting took place at the Hôtel du Nord, for Mrs. St. John +declined to accept of her mother's hospitality, even could space have +been found in that lady's apartments for their accommodation. Rose had +accompanied her mother to the hotel: Mrs. Darling was ever indulgent +to Rose over the other two sisters. + +"Do you know who I am?" cried Rose, lifting the little boy upon her +knee; and so fragile did he seem, that a tremor ran through her, lest +he should fall to pieces. "I have never, never seen you, George; do +you know my name?" + +George looked up at the smiling face; he raised his poor little weak +hand, and pushed away the blue ribbons of her pretty bonnet from her +chin; he touched the golden hair. + +"No, I don't know you," he said. + +"Of course not," returned Rose, in resentment. "Charlotte--your mamma +would not talk to you about me, I suppose? I am your Aunt Rose, +Georgy; your mamma's sister." + +"Will you come along with us when we go away?" he asked, much taken +with his new aunt. "I wish you would." + +"I wish I could," said Rose; "though I don't know whether I should get +on with--with every one. But I can't; I am at school; is not that a +shame, Georgy? And I am going out on a visit in a day or two." + +A pause ensued. Georgy was silent, and breathing, oh, so quickly; Mrs. +Darling stood as one not at ease; Charlotte, apathetical as ever, save +for the restless fire in the eyes, was looking down into the street +between the crimson curtains of the somewhat high salon. Presently +George spoke, looking at Rose. + +"I want to go back to Alnwick. I want Benja." + +"Oh, child!" exclaimed Rose, in a sort of awe. "Benja is not there." + +"He's gone to heaven," continued George; "but I _might_ see him, you +know. Mamma sees him sometimes. She saw him the other night when she +cried out: she squeezed hold of me so that she hurt me." + +Rose cast an involuntary glance at her impassive sister. Believe she +saw a ghost!--she, Charlotte, the mocker! No, no; it could not have +come to that. + +"I should have all Benja's playthings; I should ride his pony," went +on Georgy. "I should see Brave, Aunt Rose. I want to go home to +Alnwick." + +"And the best place for you, my little darling," answered Rose. +"Charlotte, do you hear? This child says he would like to go back +home. I'm sure I should think it is only the worry of his being +hurried about so from place to place that makes him thin. He is +nothing but a bag of bones." + +"I have come to think that Alnwick is not healthy," observed +Charlotte, with her usual equanimity. "All the St. Johns die there." + +"Don't you intend to go back to it?" asked Rose, breathlessly. + +"Not at present; when George shall have grown strong again." + +"Alnwick, his native air, might be the very place where he would grow +strong," cried Rose, persistently. "Wouldn't I go to it if it were +mine. Healthy or not healthy, I'd reign there, with the county at my +feet." + +She laughed merrily; Mrs. Darling seemed uneasy. Indeed, there is +little doubt that the appearance of both Charlotte and the child had +seriously disturbed her. She moved past the crimson sofa to the side +of her daughter, who was still looking listlessly into the street +below. + +"Do you think it well, Charlotte, to abandon Alnwick Hall so entirely +to servants? I don't." + +"You may go and live in it yourself, mamma, if you choose. I'm +sure I don't care who lives there. The servants keep it in order, I +suppose--in readiness for my return? It is all my own now; that is, +it's Georgy's; and I am responsible to no one." + +She spoke quietly, indifferently, smoothing back the braids of her +most luxuriant hair. But for the strange fire in her eyes, the +consuming hectic of her cheek, it might have been affirmed that she +took no interest in any earthly thing. + +"I am glad to see you have left off your widow's caps, Charlotte," +resumed her mother. "They always look sad upon a young woman." + +"There was no help for leaving them off; we could not get any abroad. +Prance contrived to manage them in some way as long as I wore them, +but they were never tidy. Where's Honour?" she suddenly exclaimed, +turning her eyes, ablaze with sudden angry fire, on Mrs. Darling. + +Mrs. Darling positively recoiled. And some feeling, which she did not +stay to account for, and perhaps could not have accounted for, +prompted her to withhold the fact that Honour had been taken in at +Castle Wafer. + +"She procured some other situation, I believe, Charlotte, after +quitting the Hall. I have never heard from her." + +"A situation! Where? Not at Alnwick?" + +"Oh dear no; not at Alnwick; in a different county; not very far, I +think, from her native place." + +"Mamma, if ever you see her, ask her whether the boy's spirit comes +and haunts her in the night? It may; for she murdered him. She ought +to suffer on the scaffold for her work. I wish she could; I might be +more at rest." + +"Oh, Charlotte! Charlotte!" soothingly spoke Mrs. Darling from the +depths of her fearful heart,--fearful she knew not of what. + +"Come and look here!" interrupted Rose in a whisper. + +They both turned. The little lad had fallen into a light doze on her +lap, his wan hand clasping Rose's blue ribbons, and the upright line +on his pale forehead seeming to denote that he had gone to sleep in +pain. + +"Charlotte," said Rose, earnestly, "I'm not used to children, and +don't pretend to understand them as you must do; but my belief is, +that this child wants rest--repose from travelling. It cannot be good +for him to be hurried about incessantly. It is wearing him out." + +"You do _not_ understand them," returned Mrs. St. John. "It is for him +that I move about. He grows so languid whenever we settle down. What +should you know about children, Rose? Are you a nurse, or a doctor? +You are not a mother. A chacun son métier." + +"Comme vous voulez," returned Rose, with her pretty shrug. "Charlotte, +I am going to visit where I shall see something of a sort of cousin of +yours--Mr. St. John." + +"Mr. St. John of Castle Wafer?" quickly asked Mrs. St. John, with more +interest than she had yet displayed. + +"The heir to Castle Wafer, Frederick." + +"Oh--he," slightingly returned Mrs. St. John, and she relapsed into +apathy. + +"How long shall you remain at Belport, Charlotte?" asked Rose, +speaking softly, not to awaken the child. + +"I don't know yet; I shall see how the place suits George. Do you +happen to know of a good sick-nurse here, Rose--English? I hear they +abound." + +"I know of one," said Rose, rather eagerly. "And she is excellent in +these cases of--of----" Rose caught back the ominous word she had so +nearly uttered--consumption; substituting one for it, however, that +proved little better--"of wasting away. It is her _spécialité_." + +"Who says he is wasting away? Who says it?" + +"Nay," said Rose, "I only thought it, seeing him so thin. I dare say +it's natural to children to be thin. She is a most excellent nurse, +Charlotte; a Mrs. Brayford. I saw her several times in the spring, +when she was nursing Adeline de Castella." + +"What was her complaint?" + +"They feared she was going into a decline. Mrs. Brayford nursed her +into perfect health, and she is as strong and well now as I am. I +should think she would be the very nurse to suit you, and she is a +pleasant sort of woman." + +"Where can I find her?" + +"Well, I don't know," said Rose. "It can readily be ascertained, +though. The concierge at Signor de Castella's is sure to know her +address. Of course, she may not be at liberty just now, Charlotte; +neither may she be inclined to take a place that involves travelling." + +"Is she one of those monthly nurses?" asked Mrs. St. John. "I don't +like them." + +"No; I believe not. I will get you her address, Charlotte, and you can +send to her or not, as you please. How this child starts!" + +"He would lie more comfortably on a bed," interposed Mrs. Darling, +lifting him gently from Rose's knee. "I'll take him to Prance." + +It was what she had been longing to do--to get to Prance. For ten +minutes' conversation with the serving-woman, Mrs. Darling would have +given an earldom. The servant met her at the chamber-door, and the +child was laid on his bed without awaking. + +"Prance, he is surely dying," breathed Mrs. Darling, as they stood +over him. + +Prance glanced round, making sure there were no other listeners. "He +is as surely dying, ma'am, as that his father died before him; and of +the same complaint--wasting away. A month or two longer, and then--the +end." + +"Your mistress does not seem to see it. _Does_ she see it, do you +think?" + +"I think not. I think she really believes that he will get well." + +"Why does she go about from place to place in this restless manner?" + +The woman stooped to brush a fly from George's forehead, and she +answered with her head and eyes bent down. + +"She says it is for the benefit of the child: that he gets more +languid and fretful when we stay quietly in a place than when we are +moving about. But in her anxiety, she a little overdoes it: there's a +medium in all things. In some of the towns she has not liked the +doctors, and then she has gone away immediately." + +"I wish she would come back to Alnwick," lamented Mrs. Darling. "Pym +knows the constitution of the St. Johns. No one could treat the child +so well as he." + +"I wish she would!" heartily acquiesced Prance. "I wish you could +persuade her----" + +Prance stopped, and hastily busied herself straightening George's +petticoats. Mrs. St. John had entered the room. + +But there was no persuading her to Alnwick--or to put a stop to this +incessant travelling. Only a few days and she had quitted Belport +again, taking her retinue with her, amidst whom was the nurse, Mrs. +Brayford. + +How strangely do the links in that chain we call fate, fit themselves +one into the other, unconsciously to ourselves. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. +ALL ABOUT A STUPID FRENCH MARIGOLD. + + +The invitation sent to the young ladies by Madame de Castella had been +given at the pressing instigation of Adeline. The nervous, anxious +tones of the little notes enclosed from herself, praying them to +accept it, at once proved the fact to Mary Carr. + +The return of Signor de Castella to Beaufoy, and consequently the +visit of the Baron de la Chasse, had been subjected to another +postponement of a week; but then the time was positively fixed, and +Adeline knew it would be kept. Her suspense and fears were becoming +intolerable. How avoid being often in the society of the baron, when +he would be the only visitor in the house? It was this grave question +that suggested to her the thought of asking for the presence of her +schoolfellows. Madame de Castella fell all innocently into the snare, +and acquiesced at once. Adeline had ever been an indulged child. + +It was almost impossible for Adeline to conceal her terror as the days +drew on. She knew her father's haughty, unbending character, his keen +sense of honour. He would have been the last to force her into an +unpalatable union, and had Adeline expressed the slightest repugnance +to M. de la Chasse when it was first proposed, the affair would have +been at an end. But she had cheerfully consented to it; the deeds of +betrothal were signed on both sides, and M. de Castella's word and +honour had been pledged. Never, Adeline feared, would he allow that +betrothal, that word to be broken; never would he consent to entertain +proposals for her from another. + +Now that her eyes were opened, she saw how fearfully blind and +hazardous had been the act by which she consented to become the wife +of the Baron de la Chasse, a personal stranger. There are thousands +who consent in the same unconscious haste, and know not what they do, +until it is too late. It is gratifying to a young girl's vanity to +receive an offer of marriage; to anticipate an establishment of her +own; to leave her companions behind. Marriage is to her a sealed book, +and she is eager to penetrate its mysteries. If a voice from a +judicious friend, or a still small voice in her own conscience, should +whisper a warning to wait, to make sure she is on the right path ere +she enter its enclosures irrevocably, both are thrust aside unheeded. +So the wedding-day comes surely on; and soon the once eager careless +girl awakes to her position, and beholds herself as she really +is--sacrificed. She is the wife of one whom she cannot love; worse +still, perhaps not respect, now that she knows him intimately: there +is no sympathy between them; not a feeling, not a taste, it may be, in +common. But the sacrifice was of her choosing, and she must abide by +it. Deliberately, of her own free will, she tied herself to him, for +better for worse, for richer for poorer, until death shall them part. +She has linked herself to him by a chain which divides her from the +rest of the world; every thought of her heart belongs, of right, to +him; she is his companion and no other's, and must obey his behests; +at uprising and down-sitting, at the daily meals and in the midnight +chamber she is his, his own, for evermore. + +A strong impression, call it a presentiment if you will, had taken +hold of Adeline, that the very first word of disclosure to her father, +though it were but a hint of it, would be the signal for her +separation from Mr. St. John. She spoke of this to him, and she wrung +a promise from him that he would be for the present silent; that at +least during this few days' visit of the Baron's he should continue to +appear as he did now--an acquaintance only. Rose would be there, and +St. John's intimacy with the family, his frequent presence at Beaufoy, +might be accounted for by his relationship to her, No relationship +whatever in point of fact, as the reader knows; but Adeline chose to +construe it into one. Mr. St. John at first hesitated to comply with +her wish. It is true that he would have preferred, for reasons of his +own--his debts and his estrangement from his brother--not to speak to +Signor de Castella just yet; but he was given to be ultra honourable, +and to maintain silence in such a case, though it were but for a week +or two, jarred against his nature. Only to her imploring petition, to +her tears, did he at length yield, and then conditionally. He must be +guided, he said, by the behaviour of de la Chasse. "Should he attempt +to offer you the smallest endearment, should he begin to whisper +tender speeches in your ear, I should throw prudence to the winds, and +step between you." + +"Oh, Frederick!" she answered, her cheek a burning red, her face bent +in its maidenly confusion; "endearment--tender speeches--they are not +known in France, in our class of society. Of such there is no fear. +The Baron will be as politely ceremonious to me as though we were ever +to remain strangers." + +And Adeline was right. + +Late in the afternoon of as hot and brilliant a day as the July sun +ever shone upon, the carriage, containing the young-lady guests, which +had been sent to Odesque to meet them, drew up at the château, in the +very jaws of the lions. Mary Carr looked out. There, on the broad +steps, in the exact spot where she had last seen him, looking as +though not an hour had passed over his head since, stood Mr. St. John. + +He assisted them to alight, and Adeline ran out to receive them, so +charmingly lovely in her white morning dress and pink ribbons. Madame +de Castella also appeared, and after a cordial welcome, ordered the +coachman to speed back with haste to Odesque, or he would not be in +time for the arrival of the Paris train. + +"I expect my husband and M. de la Chasse," she explained, addressing +her visitors. Mary Carr looked involuntarily at Adeline. She met the +gaze, and a burning crimson rushed over her face and neck. + +Before six the party had re-assembled, including Mr. St. John. They +were in the yellow drawing-room, a very fine apartment, kept chiefly +for show and ceremony, and one that nobody ever felt at home in. The +windows overlooked the approach to the château; every one was gazing +for the first appearance of the momentarily expected travellers, +Adeline growing more pale, more agitated with every minute; so pale, +so agitated, that she could not escape notice. + +"See, see!" exclaimed old Madame de Beaufoy, hobbling to the window. +"Is not that the carriage?--far off, there;--at the turn by the +windmill." + +It was the carriage: the aged eyes were the quickest, after all: and +it came speedily on. Two dusty-looking figures were in it, for they +sat with it open. Madame de Castella and her sister hastened to the +hall to receive the travellers, and the old lady thrust her head out +at one of the windows. Adeline had risen in terrible agitation, and +was leaning on the back of a chair. Her very lips were white. Mr. St. +John advanced and bent over her. + +"My dearest love," he whispered, "you are ill, and I dare not protect +you as I could wish. Be under no apprehension of any unwelcome scene +with him: sooner than suffer it I will declare all." + +He took up a flacon of eau de Cologne, and saturated her handkerchief. +Mary Carr was looking on. She could not hear his words; but she marked +his low, earnest voice, his looks, his actions, she saw how it was +from that hour. "There will be tribulation in the house, ere this +shall be over!" was her mental exclamation. But she little anticipated +the deep tribulation that was indeed to come. + +The Baron did not make his appearance until he had been to his +dressing-room. He looked very presentable when he came in, though his +hair was shorter than ever, and the curled corners of his yellow +moustache were longer. His greeting of Adeline was in this fashion: +advancing quickly towards her until he came within three paces, he +there made a dead standstill, and placing his feet in the first +position, as dancing-masters say, slowly bowed his head nearly down to +the ground, and in ceremonious words, "hoped he had the honour of +finding mademoiselle in perfect health." That was all: he did not +presume even to touch her hand: any such familiarity would, in good +French society, be deemed the perfection of bad taste. Rose just +smothered a scream of delight when she saw the bow, and gave Mr. St. +John such a pinch on the arm, that the place was blue for days +afterwards. But what a bow St. John received the Baron with when they +were introduced--distant, haughty, and self-conscious, conscious of +his own superiority. Certainly, in outward appearance, there was a +wide contrast, and Mr. St. John, on this particular evening, seemed +quite aware of his own personal gifts. De la Chasse was superbly +dressed: a blue satin vest, curiously-fine linen of lace and +embroidery, with various other magnificent et ceteras. St. John was in +slight mourning attire, black clothes, a plain white waistcoat, and +not a bit of finery about him; but he looked, as Rose Darling said, +fit for a prince. + +Dinner was announced. The Baron de la Chasse advanced to the aged +mistress of the house, St. John to Madame de Castella, and Signor de +Castella to Rose. Miss de Beaufoy, Adeline, and Mary Carr, went in +together. It was a formal dinner, and Adeline was sick at heart. + +It happened, in the course of the following morning, that the three +young ladies and the Baron were alone in the western drawing-room--the +one, you may remember, opening to the colonnade. The conversation +flagged. De la Chasse, though a sensible man, did not shine in that +flowing, ready style of converse so natural to Frederick St. John; and +Adeline seemed utterly spiritless. Mary Carr went upstairs to her +chamber, but before she had been there five minutes, Rose came dancing +in. + +"Where have you left Adeline?" inquired Miss Carr. + +"Where you did--with the Baron. I thought I might be _de trop_, and so +came away. It is not pleasant to reflect that you may be spoiling a +scene, all tenderness and sweetmeats, as Charlotte Singleton calls it. +I say, though, Mary, did you see St. John whispering last night to her +at the piano, whilst he was pretending to be engaged turning over for +me? It's satisfactory to have two strings to one's bow." + +Before another word could be said, in rushed Adeline, in high +excitement. "Mary! Rose!--Rose! dear Mary! never you leave me alone +with that man again! Promise it!--promise it to me!" + +"What is it? What has he done?" they asked, in excessive astonishment. + +"He has done nothing. But I dare not be alone with him, lest he should +talk of the future. He has been inquiring after the engagement-ring. +Hush! do not ask me any questions now," concluded Adeline. "I wish to +Heaven, Rose, you could induce the Baron to fall in love with you!" + +"Much obliged for the transfer," said Rose, with a laugh. "Perhaps +you'll get him first to dye those appendages to his face: yellow is +not a favourite colour of mine." + +De la Chasse intended to remain but a week. He purposed leaving on +Tuesday morning. His visit was passing quietly enough; there had been +no outbreak between him and St. John, only excessive coolness. Had de +la Chasse been an Englishman, an explanation could scarcely have been +avoided; for an Englishman would inevitably, by speech, manner, or +action, have shown that he was the young lady's lover: but in France +these things are managed differently. + +Madame de Beaufoy issued invitations for Monday evening to as many +neighbours as were within driving-distance. A soirée dansante, the +cards said, when they went out. + +On the Monday afternoon, when the three young ladies were in the +western drawing-room together, the Baron entered, and addressing +Adeline, formally requested her to grant him the honour of a few +minutes' conversation. + +A strange rising in the throat; a dread, that caused her frame to +quiver; a terrified, imploring, but unavailing look at Rose and Mary; +and the door closed on them, and Adeline and her acknowledged lover +were left alone. + +She need not have feared. The Baron did not say a word to her that he +might not have said to her mother. But he produced from his pocket the +engagement-ring, which had been taken to Paris to be made smaller--it +was a plain circlet of gold--and requested she would grant him the +honour of allowing him to replace it on her finger. + +Without a word of remonstrance--for what could she say?--and sick at +heart, Adeline held out her hand; and the Baron ventured ceremoniously +to touch it, while he slipped on the ring: in the very act and deed of +doing which, the door opened, and into the room strode Mr. St. John, +twirling in his hand a French marigold. + +He saw them standing together, Adeline's hand stretched out, and +meeting both of his; and he looked black as night. It has been said, +in this book or another, that Frederick St. John was of quick +temperament: on rare occasions he gave way to violent explosions of +passion. It is probable that an outburst would have come then; but the +Baron, with a polite bow to Adeline, quitted the room. And Mr. St. +John, though certain as man could well be that he had no cause for +jealousy, gave way to the irritation of his hasty spirit. + +"So, Mademoiselle de Castella," he broke forth, "you have been +enjoying a stolen interview with your lover! I must beg your pardon +for having unintentionally interrupted it." + +She turned deprecatingly to him; she did not speak, or defend herself +from the charge; but the look of anguish on her countenance was so +keen, the glance at himself so full of pure, truthful love, that the +gentleman's better nature revolted at the temper he had shown, and he +caught her to his heart. + +"But they were cruel words," she sobbed; "and just now I have enough +to bear." + +"Let this be my peace-offering, my darling," he said, placing in her +hand the French marigold. + +St. John had long ago heard the tale of the French marigold, and Miss +Rose Darling's sombre forebodings touching himself. He had been +assiduously cultivating the flower in the garden at the Lodge, and +this, that he now gave to Adeline, was the first which had appeared. + +"This ring, Adeline," he said, drawing it from her finger. "He placed +it there, I suppose?" + +"You saw him doing so," she answered. + +He slipped it into his waistcoat pocket, and then drew out his watch. + +"Give me back the ring, Frederick." + +"No, Adeline. It shall never encircle your finger again." + +"But what am I to say if its absence is noticed? He said mamma had +given him permission to replace it. She will be sure to ask where it +is." + +"Say anything. That it fell off--or wear a glove until evening. I will +then tell you what to do. I cannot stay longer now." + +When Mary Carr was dressed for the evening ball, she went into +Adeline's room. Louise was putting the finishing strokes to her young +lady's toilette, and very satisfactory they were, when Madame de +Castella entered, holding in her hand a small circular case. + +"Look here, Adeline," she said, opening it and displaying a costly +bracelet, one of beauty and finish so rare, that all eyes were riveted +on it. Exquisitely wrought, fine gold links, in the different +crossings of which were inserted brilliants of the purest water, with +pendant chains flashing with brilliants and gold. + +"Oh, mamma!" was the enraptured exclamation. "What a lovely bracelet!" + +"It is indeed, Adeline. It is yours." + +"Ciel!" ejaculated Louise, lifting her hands. + +"Mamma, how can I thank you!" she exclaimed, taking the jewels. + +"You need not thank me at all, Adeline. It is the Baron's present. +Make your acknowledgments to him." + +Had the bracelet been a serpent, Adeline could not have dropped it +quicker, and, but for Mary Carr, it would have fallen to the ground. +Madame de Castella thought it was an accident. + +"Don't be careless, child. Put it on. You must wear it tonight." + +"Oh no, no, mamma!" she returned, her cheek flushing. "Not tonight." + +"What nonsense!" exclaimed her mother; "you are as shy as a young +child. When the Baron presented it to me for you, he said, 'Un petit +cadeau pour ce soir.' Clasp it on, Louise." + +"Mamma," she implored, a great deal more energetically than Madame de +Castella thought the case could demand, "do not oblige me to appear in +this bracelet tonight." + +"Adeline, I _insist_ on its being worn. Persons who know you less well +than we do, would suspect that affectation, more than delicacy, +induced your refusal to wear a gift from one who will soon be your +husband." + +"Not my husband yet," faltered Adeline. "Not until next year." + +"Indeed he will, Adeline," said Madame de Castella. "Before we go to +the South." + +Her colour came and went painfully. She sat down, gasping out rather +than speaking, the words that issued from her white lips. + +"We go to the South in two months!" + +"Dear child," laughed Madame de Castella, "don't look so scared. +There's no reason for it: a wedding is quite an everyday affair, I can +assure you. This week I write to order your trousseau." + +Louise fastened the bracelet on Adeline's arm, and she went down to +the reception-rooms as one in a dream. If the younger guests, as they +gazed on her excessive beauty, could but have read the bitter despair +at her heart, the strife and struggle within, they would have envied +her less. A single string of pearls was entwined with her hair, and +she wore a pearl necklace; no other ornament, save this conspicuous +bracelet of de la Chasse's. But in the bosom of her low white dress, +almost hidden by its trimmings of lace, was enshrined St. John's +French marigold. + +The guests had nearly all arrived, and Adeline had done her best +towards greeting them, when in passing in the direction of the +colonnade, the Baron came up to her, She was longing for a breath of +the evening air--as if that would cool the brow's inward fever! + +"Permit me to exchange this flower with the one you have there, +mademoiselle," he said, holding out a white camellia of rare beauty. +And, with a light, respectful touch, he removed the French marigold +from the folds of the lace. + +Did de la Chasse suspect who had been the donor of that cherished +French marigold? Did he remember seeing it in St. John's hand that +same afternoon? It is impossible to tell; but he seemed more urgent +over this trifling matter than a Frenchman in general allows himself +to be. + +"Sir, you forget yourself!" exclaimed Adeline, angry to excitement. +"Return me my flower." + +"It is unsuitable, mademoiselle," he rejoined, retaining his hold of +the French marigold. "A vulgar, ordinary garden-flower is not in +accordance with your dress tonight--or with you." + +"You presume upon your position," retorted Adeline, pushing aside the +white camellia, and struggling to keep down her anger and her tears. +"Do not insult me, sir, but give me back my own flower." + +"What is all this?" demanded M. de Castella, coming up. "Adeline, you +are excited." + +"I have incurred your daughter's displeasure, it would seem, sir," +explained the Baron, showing symptoms of excitement in his turn. +"Mademoiselle appeared in the rooms wearing this flower--a worthless, +common garden-flower!--and because I wished to present her with one +more suitable, she seems to imply that I only do it by way of insult. +I don't understand, ma foi!" + +"Nor I," returned M. de Castella. "Take the camellia, Adeline," he +added, sternly and coldly. "Caprice and coquetry are beneath _you_." + +The Baron put the camellia in her now unresisting hand, and amused +himself with pulling to pieces the petals of the other flower. Adeline +burst into a violent paroxysm of tears, and hurried on to the +colonnade. + +And all about a stupid French marigold! + +"Let her go and have a cry to herself," said M. de Castella, walking +off with the Baron; "it will bring her to reason. The coquetry of +women passes belief. They are all alike. It appears I was mistaken +when I deemed my daughter an exception." + +Adeline, in her tears and excitement, rushed across the lawn. It was +certainly a senseless thing to cry about, but, just then, a straw +would have ruffled her equanimity. She had been compelled to wear the +hated bracelet: she had been told that she would very speedily be made +the wife of de la Chasse; she had stood by him, recognized by the +crowd of guests as his future wife; and, blended with all this, was a +keen sensation of disappointment at the non-appearance of Mr. St. +John. She stood with her forehead pressed against the bark of a tree, +sobbing aloud in her anguish where none could hear her. Presently, her +ear caught the sound of footsteps, and she prepared to dart further +away: but they were some that she knew and loved too well. He was +coming through the shrubbery at a rapid pace, and she stood out and +confronted him. + +"Why, Adeline!" he exclaimed, in astonishment. And, then, the +momentary restraint on her feelings removed, she fell forward in his +arms, and sobbed aloud with redoubled violence. + +"Oh, Adeline, what ails you? What has happened? Be calm, be calm, my +only love! I am by your side now: what grief is there that I cannot +soothe away?" + +He became quite alarmed at her paroxysm of grief, and, half leading, +half carrying her to the nearest bench, seated her there and laid her +head upon his arm, and held her gently to him, and spoke not a word +until she was calmer. + +By degrees she told him all. The gift of the bracelet, her mother's +threats of the coming marriage--_threats_ they sounded to Adeline--and +the dispute with the Baron. Upon this last point she was rather +obscure. "I had a simple flower in my dress, and he wanted me to +replace it with a rare one, a camellia." She did not say it was the +one he had given her; she would rather have led him to think that it +was not: never, until she should be indeed his, could she tell him how +passionately and entirely she loved. But he divined all; he required +no telling. And yet, knowing this; knowing, as he did, how her very +life was bound up in his; how could he, only a few weeks later, doubt, +or profess to doubt, of this enduring love? + +"Adeline," he said, as he paced the narrow path restlessly in the +moonlight, she still sitting on the bench, "I have done very wrong: +wrong by you and your friends, wrong by myself, wrong by de la Chasse. +I see it now. I ought to have declared all before he came to Beaufoy. +I will see M. de Castella tomorrow morning." + +She shivered, as if struck by a cold wind. "Remember your promise." + +"It must be done," he answered. "I yielded too readily to your +wishes, perhaps to my own motives for desiring delay. But for you to +be looked upon as his future wife--condemned to accept and wear his +presents--this shall not be. It is placing us all three in a false +position; you must see that it is. Neither did I know that the +marriage was being hastened on." + +"He goes away tomorrow morning, and all immediate danger will be +over," she urged. "Do not yet speak words that might--nay, that +_would_--lead to our separation! Let us have another week or two for +consideration; and of--of happiness." + +"I cannot imagine why you entertain these gloomy anticipations," he +rejoined; "why think that my speaking to your father will be the +signal for warfare. Believe me, Adeline, the St. Johns of Castle Wafer +are not accustomed to find their overtures for an alliance despised; +they have mated with the noblest in their own land." + +"Oh, it is not that; it is not that! Frederick, you know it is +not.--Hark!" she suddenly broke off, starting from her seat as if to +fly. "There are footsteps approaching from the house. If it should be +papa!--or de la Chasse!" + +"And what if it be?" he answered, drawing her hand within his arm and +raising himself to his full height, in the haughty spirit that was +upon him, to stand and confront the intruders. "I will explain all +now: and show that you are doing neither wrong nor harm in being here +with me, for that you are my affianced wife." + +But the footsteps, whosesoever they might be, passed off in a +different direction: and they strolled on, talking, to the borders of +the miniature lake. It was nearly as light as day, very warm, very +beautiful. White fleecy clouds floated around the moon; the air, +redolent with the odour of flowers, was one balmy breath of perfume; +and Adeline forgot her trouble in the peaceful scene. + +"What made you so late?" she asked. "I had fancied you would come +early." + +"I have been to Odesque." + +"To Odesque!" + +He was drawing a small paper from his waistcoat pocket. Adeline saw +that it contained a ring of plain gold. Motioning to her to take her +glove off--and she obeyed mechanically--he proceeded to place it on +her finger; speaking solemn words: + +"With this ring I will thee wed: with my body I thee worship; with all +my worldly goods I will thee endow, until death us do part: and thus +do I plight unto thee my troth." + +She knew the slightly altered words were in the English Protestant +marriage-service, for she had heard Rose, and some of the other +schoolgirls as foolish as Rose was, repeat them in their thoughtless +pastime. There was a solemnity in Mr. St. John's voice and manner +which imparted an awe to her feelings, never before experienced. The +tears of deep emotion rose to her eyes and her frame trembled: she +could not have been more strongly moved, had she in very truth been +plighting her troth to him before the holy altar. + +"Take you care of it, Adeline. Let none remove it from your finger as +I removed the other. It shall be your wedding-ring." + +"It is not the same ring?" she whispered, unable quite to recover +herself. "His." + +"_His!_ Look here, Adeline." + +He took another ring from his pocket as he spoke. It was cut in two +parts; and he threw them into the water. + +"There goes his ring, Adeline. May his pretensions go with it!" + +"It is for this you have been to Odesque?" + +"It is." + +They turned to the house, walking quickly now, neither caring for +Adeline's absence to be so prolonged as to attract notice. Long as it +may have seemed to take in the telling, she had yet been away from the +house but a few minutes. Adeline could not quite forget her fears. + +"If mamma could only be kept from ordering the trousseau!" she +suddenly exclaimed, more in answer to her own thoughts than to him. + +"Where's the necessity of preventing her?" + +She looked up wonderingly, and caught his smile full of meaning, all +apparent in the moonlight. + +"The things ordered and intended for Madame de la Chasse--will they +not serve equally well for Mrs. Frederick St. John?" + +"Oh--but"--and her downcast face felt glowing with heat "nothing will +be wanted at all yet for--any one." + +"Indeed! _I_ think they will be wanted very soon. Do you suppose," he +added; laughing, "I should be permitted to carry you away with me to +the South without an outfit?" + +"I am not going to the South now," she quickly said. + +"Yes, Adeline. I hope you and I shall winter there." + +"I am quite well now." + +"I know you are: and that it will be almost a superfluous precaution. +Nevertheless, it is well to be on the safe side. My darling!" and he +bent over her, "you would not be dismayed at the prospect of passing a +whole winter alone with me?" + +Dismayed! To the uttermost parts of the earth with him, and for a +whole lifetime Father, mother, country, home--what were they all, in +comparison with him? + +As they gained the open lawn, a dark figure swept across their path. +Adeline shrank at being seen alone with Mr. St. John. It was Father +Marc, the officiating priest of the little neighbouring chapel, and +the family confessor, a worthy and very zealous man. He turned and +looked at Adeline, but merely said, "Bon soir, mon enfant," and took +off his hat to Mr. St. John. Mr. St. John raised his in return, saying +nothing, and Adeline bent low, as one in contrition. + +"Bon soir, mon père." + +She glided onwards to a side door, that she might gain her chamber and +see what could be done towards removing the traces of emotion from her +face. Whilst Mr. St. John strode round to the front entrance, and rang +such a peal upon the tinkling old bell that half-a-dozen servants came +flying to the door. + +And as Adeline stood by his side that night in the brilliant +ball-room, and watched the admiration so many were ready, unsought, to +accord him, and marked the cordial regard in which both her father and +mother held him, and remembered his lineage and connections, the +fortune and position that must eventually be his, she almost reasoned +that overtures for her from such a man could never be declined. + +But the Baron saw that she had thrown away the white camellia. "Petite +coquette!" he exclaimed to himself, in tolerant excuse: not in anger. +It never entered into the French brains of the Baron de la Chasse to +imagine that the young lady, being under an engagement to marry him, +could have the slightest wish to marry any one else. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. +JEALOUSY. + + +The grey walls of the Château de Beaufoy basked idly in the evening +sun. In the western drawing-room, M. and Madame de Castella, the old +lady, and Agnes de Beaufoy were playing whist. Its large window was +thrown open to the terrace or colonnade, where had gathered the +younger members of the party, the green-striped awning being let down +between some of the outer pillars. Mary Carr and Adeline were seated, +unravelling a heap of silks, which had got into a mess in the ivory +work-basket; Rose Darling flitted about amongst the exotics, her fine +hair shining like threads of gold when, ever and anon, it came in +contact with the sunlight, as she flirted--it was very like it--with +Mr. St. John. But Rose began to turn cross, for he teased her. + +"Did you write to England for the song today?" she asked. "Ah, don't +answer: I see you forgot it. Most of the writing you are guilty of +goes to one person, I expect. No wonder you forget other matters." + +"Indeed! To whom?" + +"I won't betray you now," glancing at Adeline. "I will be +compassionate." + +"Pray don't trouble yourself about compassion for me, ma belle," +returned Mr. St. John, in a provokingly slighting manner. "It will be +thrown away." + +"Compassion for _you_, Mr. St. John! Don't flatter yourself. I was +thinking of another." + +Adeline looked up: a sharp, perplexed glance. + +"You are mysterious, Rose," said he, laughing. + +"Yes. But I could speak out if I would" + +"I dare you," answered Mr. St. John. "Speak away." + +"You know there is one in England, who monopolizes all your +letters--not to speak of your dreams." + +"Rose!" exclaimed Mary Carr, a dim shadow of Rose's meaning darting +uneasily across her. "How can you talk this nonsense to Mr. St. John?" + +"He asked for it. But he knows it is true. Look at his conscious face +now!" she saucily continued. + +"The only lady in England honoured with my correspondence," said he, +in a more serious tone than he had hitherto spoken, "is Mrs. St. +John." + +"That's almost true," cried the provoking girl--"almost. She is not +Mrs. St. John yet, only _to be_." + +A strange wild spasm caught Adeline de Castella's heart. Would Rose +have continued, had she known it? Did St. John suspect it? + +"I spoke of my mother, Rose," he said. "She is the only lady who +claims, or receives, letters from me." + +"Honour bright?" asked Rose. + +"Honour bright," repeated Mr. St. John: "the honour of her only son." + +"Oh, faithless that you are then!" burst forth Rose. "Will you deny +that there is one in England to whom your letters are due, if not +sent; one whose shadow you were for many, many months--if not +years--one, beautiful as a painters dream?" + +"Bah, Rose!" he said, his lips curling with a proud, defiant smile, +"you are lapsing into ecstasies." + +"Shall I tell her name--the name of his own true lady-love?" asked +Rose, turning round, a world of triumph on her bright, laughing brow. +"Mary Carr knows it already." + +"You are out of your senses!" exclaimed Mary Carr, all too eagerly. +"Don't impose your fabulous tales on us." + +"Shall I tell it?" repeated Rose, maintaining her ground and her +equanimity. + +"Tell it," said Mr. St. John, carelessly. Did he think she knew so +much! + +"Tell it," repeated Adeline, but it was the motion of the syllables, +rather than the words, that came from between her white and parted +lips. + +"Sarah Beauclerc." + +A transient surprise crossed Mr. St. John's countenance, and was gone +again. _Adeline saw it_: and from that wild, bitter moment, a pang of +anguish took root within her, which was never to be erased during +life. + +"You are under a slight misapprehension, Rose," said Mr. St. John, +with indifference. + +"Am I? The world was under another, perhaps, when it asserted that the +honour of Mr. St. John's hand would fall to Sarah Beauclerc." + +"That it certainly was--if it ever did assert it. And I might believe +it possible, were the world peopled with Rose Darlings." + +"Look here," exclaimed Rose, snatching his pocket-handkerchief from a +gilt cage, where he had thrown it to protect the beautiful bird from +the rays of the setting sun. "Look at this, 'Frederick St. John,' +worked in hair!" + +It happened to be the handkerchief they had picked up that first +morning in the painting-room. Rose talked on, in the recklessness of +her spirits; and Adeline sat, drinking-in her words. + +"_She_ did this for him, I have not the least doubt. Look how +elaborately it is worked, even to the finishings of the crest. It is +her hair, Sarah Beauclerc's." + +A random assertion. Rose neither knew nor cared whether she was right. +In her present humour she would have stood to anything. It is +possible: not likely, but barely possible: that she had stumbled on a +bit of fact. Mr. St. John remained supremely indifferent, denying +nothing. She talked on in her access of gaiety. + +"This is his favourite handkerchief: I have noticed that. The others +are marked with ink. I dare say she _gave_ the handkerchief, as well +as marked it. Let it alone, Mr. St. John: I shall show it round, if I +like. A rather significant present from so lovely a girl! But it's +known she was _folle_ after him. He reciprocated the compliment then: +he was always at the dean's. I don't know how it may be now," she +added, after a pause, and there was a significant meaning in her tone +as she looked to Adeline. Then, with a saucy glance at Mr. St. John, +she sang out, in her clear, rich voice, to a tune of her own, + + + "It is well to be off with the old love, + Before you are on with the new." + + +Adeline rose, and passed quietly into the drawing-room, her step +self-possessed, her bearing calm: the still exterior covers the +deepest suffering. But Mr. St. John suspected nothing. + +"Rose," he said, quoting a French axiom, "vous aimez bien à rire, mais +rien n'est beau que le vrai." + +"Ah," she answered, with another, "ce n'est pas être bien aise que de +rire." Perhaps the deepest truth she had uttered that evening. + +With outward calmness _there_, but oh! the whirlwind of despairing +agony which shook Adeline's frame as she sank down by the bedside in +her own chamber! That in one short minute, desolation so complete +should have swept over her heart, and she be able to endure it and +live! I tell you no false story: I am writing of one of those +sensitive hearts which must thus suffer and be shaken. To have given +up her whole love to one, in a passion little short of idolatry; to +have forgotten early ties and kindred in the spell of this strong +devotion--and now to be told there was _another_ to claim his vows, +another to whom they had first been offered! + +The dream in which she had been living for months was over--or, at +least, it had been robbed of its golden colouring. The serpent DOUBT +had found its entrance into her heart: the fiend JEALOUSY had taken +possession of it, never to be wholly eradicated. + +Frederick St. John was certainly one of earth's favoured people, with +his manly beauty and his master intellect. It seemed to her that the +world might worship him without a blush. He had made her life the +Elysium that poets tell of; and now she found that he loved, or had +loved, another. Like an avalanche falling down the Alps and crushing +the hapless traveller, so had these tidings fallen upon her heart, and +_shattered_ it. + +Adeline de Castella smoothed her brow at last, and returned +downstairs. She had taken no account of the time; but, by the advanced +twilight, it would seem she had been away an hour, and Rose inquired +whether she had been buried. + +Following Adeline on to the colonnade, where the whole party were now +seated, came the old Spanish servant, Silva, bearing a letter for Mr. +St. John. The ominous words, "très pressée," written on it, had caused +Madame Baret to despatch it with haste to the château. + +"Does any one wait?" he inquired. + +"Si, Señor." + +"It is well," he said, and retreated inside the room. + +"You have received bad news!" exclaimed Madame de Castella, when he +reappeared. + +"I have," he said, with controlled emotion. "I must depart instantly +for England." And it was well the shades of evening were gathering, or +they would inevitably have seen the death-like pallor on Adeline's +stricken face. + +Mr. St. John handed them the letter to read. A dangerous accident had +happened to his mother. The horses of her carriage took fright, and +she opened the door and jumped out. The physicians feared concussion +of the brain. + +"Are you going?" exclaimed M. de Castella, as St. John held out his +hand. + +"Yes. I feel every moment wasted that does not speed me on my +journey." + +And in another instant he was gone. Without a word more of adieu to +Adeline than he gave to the rest. There was no opportunity for it. + +"I don't know that I would have angered him, had I foreseen this," +cried Rose, candidly, as she lingered on the terrace with Adeline. + +"_Did_ you anger him?" + +"I think I did. A little bit. He should not have dared me to it." + +Adeline looked over the balustrades as she listened, seeing nothing. A +painful question was upon her lips; but her poor sensitive heart--how +unfit it was for the wear and tear of life!--beat so violently that +she had to wait before she put it. + +"What you said was not _true_, Rose?" + +"What did I say?" rejoined Rose, whose thoughts had veered to fifty +other things in her light carelessness. + +"That he loved--what was the name?--Sarah Beauclerc." + +The pretty assumption of forgetfulness! "What was the name?" As if the +name, every distinct letter of it, had not engraved itself on her +brain in letters of fire, when it was first spoken! Rose answered +impulsively. + +"It was quite true, Adeline. He knows that it is true. I as certainly +believed that he loved her, as that we are standing here. People say +she would have been his wife before this, but for the dispute, or +estrangement, or whatever it is, between him and his brother. He can't +marry until his debts are cleared: and he is living quietly to clear +them. You should hear what Margaret says about it; she told me a great +deal the very day before I came here." + +Her crushed heart fluttered against her side. "She is nice-looking, +you say?" + +"Nice-looking! she's beautiful! One of the loveliest girls in society. +A fair, proud face, just as proud as his own. Georgina Beauclerc is +very pretty; but she's nothing beside her." + +She could have cried aloud in her anguish as she listened to these +praises of her rival: and how she schooled her voice to maintain its +calm indifference, she knew not. + +"Who is Georgina Beauclerc?" + +"Her cousin. She's the daughter of the Dean of Westerbury: Fred St. +John's native place, you know. Sarah is the daughter of the dean's +brother, General Beauclerc. Her mother's dead, the Lady Sarah; and +since then she has lived with the dean. In point of family it would be +a suitable match; and I dare say in point of fortune." + +"And in point of love?" + +There was a peculiar sound in the hesitation, a tremor which struck on +Rose's ear. She turned her face full on Adeline's. + +"I believe with all my heart, from what I've heard, that there _was_ +love between them," answered Rose. "Perhaps _is_. Adeline, I don't say +this in ill-nature, but because it may be good for you to know it. I +am careless and random in general, but I _can_ be serious; and I am +speaking seriously now. He is a gay-mannered man, you know, a general +admirer; those attractive men usually are so; but I have little doubt +that his love was given to Sarah Beauclerc." + +Rose went into the room with the last sentence. She had really spoken +from a good motive. Believing that Adeline was getting to like +Frederick St. John more than was good for her, consistently with her +engagement to the French baron, a word in season might act as a +warning. Little did Rose suspect how far things had gone between them. + +An hour passed. All save Adeline were gathered in the lighted room. +Some were playing chess, some écarté, some were telling Father Marc, +who had dropped in, of the young Englishman's sudden departure for +England and its cause. Rose was at the piano, singing English songs in +a subdued voice. Never was there a sweeter voice than hers: and old +Madame de Beaufoy could have listened always to the bygone songs of +her native land. + +Adeline had not stirred from the terrace; she was leaning still on its +balustrades, gazing forth apparently into the night. But that Madame +de Castella did not observe her absence, she had been called in long +ago, out of the night air. + + + "Oh, beware, my lord, of jealousy! + It is a green-eyed monster, which doth make + The food it feeds on." + + +That reader of the human heart never put forth a greater truth, a more +needed warning. How vainly! We can smile now, we can wonder at the +"trifles" that once mocked us; but we did not smile at the time. It is +asserted that where there is love, impassioned love, there must be +jealousy; and who shall venture to dispute it? Love is most exacting. +Its idol must not listen to a tender word, or bestow a look of +admiration on another. The faintest shadow of a suspicion will invoke +the presence of jealousy; what then when facts and details are put +forth, as they had been by Rose? It had aroused the most refined +torments of the distressing passion; and let none doubt that they were +playing their part cruelly on Adeline's heart. Not that she believed +quite all: the hint that he might be intending to marry Sarah +Beauclerc but touched her ear and fell away again. She knew enough of +his honourable nature to be certain that he would never have spoken of +marriage to herself, had he been under the slightest obligation of it +to another. But that he loved the girl with deep intensity, or had +loved her, Adeline never doubted. And so she stood on: bitterly giving +way to this strange anguish which had fallen on her; wondering how +long he would stay in England, and how often during his stay there he +would see her beautiful rival. The very fact of his having gone +without a loving word of adieu seemed a knell of unlucky omen. + +But what is that movement which her eye has caught at a distance? Who +or what is it, advancing with a hasty step from the dark trees? Ah! +the wild rising of her pulse has told her, before the outlines of his +form become distinct, as he emerges into that plot of pale light! It +was _he_--he whom she thought to have looked upon at present for the +last time; and the ecstatic feeling which rushed over her spirit was +such as almost momentarily to obliterate the cruel doubts that +oppressed her. He had changed his dress, and was habited in travelling +costume. His tread over the lawn was noiseless, and little less so as +he ran up the steps to the colonnade. + +"How fortunate that you are here, Adeline!" he whispered. "I could not +go without endeavouring to obtain a word with you, though I doubted +being able to accomplish it." + +Adeline, painfully agitated, trembling to excess, both in her heart +and frame, murmured some confused words about the time he was losing. + +"I am not losing one precious moment," he explained. "My own +preparations were soon made: not to those necessary to convey me to +Odesque. As it always happens in these emergencies, the spring +chaise--and there's nothing else to take me--had been lent out to +Farmer Pichon. Baret is gone for it, and will come on with it here, +which is all in the way. We shall catch the first train. Why do you +tremble so, my love?" he added, as the fit of ague, which seemed to +possess her, shook even his arm. "Are you cold?" + +Cold! But most men would have had but the same idea. + +"Now, Adeline, for one moment's grave consultation. Shall I write, and +lay my proposals before M. de Castella, or shall they wait until I +return?" + +"Oh, wait to do so!" she implored. "In mercy, wait!" + +"I would prefer it myself," said Mr. St. John, "for I feel I ought to +be present to support you through all that may then occur. But, +Adeline, should I be detained long, there will be no alternative: the +preparations for your wedding will soon be actively begun, and render +my speaking an act of imperative necessity." + +She laid her head upon his arm, moaning. + +"Cheer up," he whispered: "I am only putting the worst view of the +case. I trust that a few days may bring me back to you. Write to me +daily, Adeline: everything that occurs: I shall then be able to judge +how long I may be absent with safety. I was thinking, Adeline, as I +came along, that it might be better if my letters to you are sent +under cover to Rose or Mary. You are aware that I do not mention this +for myself--I should be proud to address you without disguise--but +for your own peace. Were I to write openly, it might force +explanations on you before my return." + +Ever anxious for her! Her heart bounded with gratitude. "Under cover +to Mary Carr," she said. + +"We must part now," he whispered, as a faint rumbling broke upon their +ears from the distance, "you hear my signal. It is fast approaching." + +"You will come back as soon as you are at liberty?" she sighed. + +"Ay, the very instant. Need you question it, Adeline?" + +He strained her to his heart, and the painful tears coursed down her +cheeks. "God bless you, and take care of you, and keep you in peace +until I return; my dear, my dear, my only love!" And when he had +passed away, Adeline asked herself if that last lingering farewell +kiss, which he had pressed upon her lips--she asked herself, with +burning blushes, if she were sure it had not been returned. + +And during the brief moments of this sudden interview, she had lost +sight of the torment about Sarah Beauclerc. + +The second evening after Mr. St. John's departure, before they had +risen from the dinner-table, Silva brought in the letters. Two from +England amongst them, bearing on their seals, as Rose Darling +expressed it, the arms and quarterings of all the St. Johns. The one +was addressed to Madame de Castella; the other was handed to Miss +Carr. + +Mary looked at it with unqualified surprise. The fact was, Adeline, +not expecting they could hear from Mr. St. John till the following +day, had put off the few words of explanation she meant to speak, +feeling shy at the task. + +"Why should Mr. St. John write to me?" exclaimed Mary Carr. But +Adeline, who was sitting next her, pressed her hand convulsively, +under cover of the tablecloth, to prevent her opening it. Miss Carr +began dimly to understand, and laid the letter down by the side of her +dessert-plate. + +"Why don't you open it, Mary?" repeated Rose, impatiently. + +"No," said Miss Carr, in a half-joking manner, "there may be secrets +in it that I don't care to read before people." And Rose, whose +curiosity was excited, could have boxed her ears. + +"Mr. St. John writes that his mother is better," said Madame de +Castella; "the injuries prove less serious than they were at first +supposed. By the next post, he hopes to send us word that she is out +of danger." + +"This letter, Adeline," exclaimed Mary Carr, when they were alone--"I +fancy it may not be meant for me." + +"You can open it," replied Adeline, timidly. "Perhaps--I think--there +may be one for me inside it." + +Mary Carr opened the letter. It contained a few polite words from Mr. +St. John, requesting her to convey the enclosed one to Adeline at a +convenient opportunity. + +"You see how it is?" faltered Adeline to her. + +"I have seen it long, Adeline." + +Adeline carried the letter to her chamber to read, bolting the door +that she might be free from interruption. It was a long letter, +written far more sensibly than are love-epistles in general, for it +was impossible to Mr. St. John to write otherwise; but there was a +vein of impassioned tenderness running through it, implied rather than +expressed, which surely ought to have satisfied even Adeline. But the +bitter doubts imparted by Rose that fatal night cast their shadow over +all. Not a moment of peace or happiness had she known since. Her +visions by day, her dreams by night, were crowded by images of +Frederick St. John, faithless to her, happy with another. Nor did +Sarah Beauclerc want a "shape to the mind." The day after St. John's +departure, they were looking over the last year's "Book of Beauty," +when Rose suddenly exclaimed, as she came to one, "This is very like +Sarah Beauclerc!" + +"It was great nonsense, Rose, that tale you were telling us!" cried +Adeline, with a desperate struggle to speak calmly. + +"It was sober sense, and sober truth," retorted Rose. + +"Not it," said Mary Carr. "It was but a flirtation, Rose." + +"Very likely," assented Rose, volatile as usual. "Being an attractive +man, Mr. Frederick St. John no doubt goes in for the game, roaming +from flower to flower, a very butterfly, kissing all, and settling +upon none." And she brought her careless speech to a conclusion with +the first lines of an old song, once in great vogue at Madame de +Nino's:-- + + + "The butterfly was a gentleman + Of no very good repute; + And he roved in the sunshine all day long, + In his scarlet and purple suit. + And he left his lady wife at home + In her own secluded bower, + Whilst he, like a bachelor, flirted about, + With a kiss for every flower.". + + +Adeline gazed at the portrait. It was that of a fair girlish face, +wearing a peculiarly sweet look of youth and innocence, blended with +pride. No impartial observer could have pronounced it so lovely as her +own, but the jealous film just now before her eyes caused her to take +an exaggerated view of its charms, and to see in it something more +than loveliness. It may have been little, if at all, like the young +lady to whom Rose compared it; but no matter: to Adeline it was Sarah +Beauclerc and no other, and from that moment the image fixed itself +indelibly in her mind as that of her envied rival. And yet she +believed in Mr. St. John; she knew he was seeking to win _herself_ for +his wife! Truly they are unfathomable, the ways and fears of jealousy. + +At length, in her intolerable misery and suspense, she took courage, +in one of her letters to him, to hint at his former intimacy with +Sarah Beauclerc. What he answered was never disclosed by Adeline; but +that it must have been satisfactory, dispelling even _her_ strong +jealousy, may be judged from the significant fact that her face grew +radiant again. + +Meanwhile Mr. St. John lingered at his mother's bedside in London. All +danger was over; and in point of fact the accident had not been so +severe as was at first feared. Lady Anne Saville was with her. Isaac +St. John was ill at Castle Wafer. It was Frederick's intention to pay +his brother a visit ere he returned to France, and get his sanction to +the proposals he intended to carry back to M. de. Castella. But this +visit was frustrated. + +One afternoon the inmates of Beaufoy were startled by the unexpected +arrival of the Baron de la Chasse. Wishing to consult M. de Castella +on a little matter of business, he explained, he had done himself the +honour and pleasure to come personally, instead of writing. All +expressed themselves delighted to see him, except one; and _she_ was +nearly beside herself with consternation. Terrified and dismayed +Adeline indeed was; and she wrote to Mr. St. John before she slept. + +An evening or two later, the whole party were assembled in the +billiard-room; soon about to separate for the night. A night of +intense heat, but there was a strong breeze, and it blew in through +the open windows, fluttering the lights and causing the wax to drop. +It was nearly eleven o'clock: the last game was being finished--but +the Baron was a remarkably slow, deliberate player--when, without the +slightest preparation, the door opened, and Mr. St. John walked in. +Adeline started from her seat, scarcely suppressing an involuntary +cry; she had not thought he would be back so soon. It seemed that her +letter had surprised him in the act of setting out for Castle Wafer. +He turned his steps to the Continent instead. + +He looked very well; very handsome. It seemed to strike them all, +after this short absence, though he had no advantages from dress, +being in his travelling attire. How could Adeline be blamed for loving +him? A hundred inquiries were made after Mrs. St. John. She was quite +out of danger, he answered, and progressing towards recovery. + +"Will you allow me the honour of half-an-hour's interview with you +tomorrow morning, sir?" he said, addressing M. de Castella, in a tone +which the whole room might hear. + +"Certainly," returned M. de Castella. But he looked up, as if +surprised. "Name your hour." + +"Ten o'clock," concluded Mr. St. John. And he took his leave. + +The interview the following morning in Signor de Castella's cabinet +lasted an hour. An hour!--and Adeline in suspense all that time. She +could not remain for an instant in one place--now upstairs, now down. +She was crossing the hall, for about the hundredth time, when the +cabinet door opened, and Mr. St. John came out. He seized her hand and +took her into the yellow drawing-room. She trembled violently from +head to foot, just as she had trembled the night of his departure for +England. It was the first moment of their being alone together, and he +embraced her tenderly, and held her to his heart. + +"You have bad news for me!" she said, at length. "We are to be +separated!" + +"We will not be separated, Adeline. Strange! strange!" he continued, +as he paced the room, "that people can be so infatuated as to fancy an +engagement of form must necessarily imply an engagement of hearts! M. +de Castella does not understand--he cannot understand that your +happiness is at stake. In short, he laughed at that." + +"Is he very angry?" + +"No; but vexed. I have not time now to relate to you all that passed, +liable as we are to interruption. I told him that the passion which +had arisen between us was not of will--that I had not purposely placed +myself in your path to gain your love--that we had been thrown +together by circumstances, and thus it had arisen. I pointed out that +no blame could by any possibility attach to you, though it might be +due to me; for I did not deny that when I saw an attachment was +growing up between us, I might have flown before it was irrevocably +planted, and did not." + +"Did you part in anger?" she asked. + +"On the contrary. M. de Castella is anxious to treat the affair as a +jest, and hinted that it might be dropped as such. I do believe he +considers it one, for he asked me to dinner." + +"Frederick! You will surely come?" + +"I shall come, Adeline, for your sake." + +"Oh!" she exclaimed, with a shiver, "how will it end?" + +"My dearest," he said earnestly, "you must be calm. Fear nothing, now +I am by you. Rely upon it, you shall be my wife." + +"Mr. St. John," cried Rose, as they went into the west drawing-room, +"you have brought some music for me, a writing-case for Mary Carr, but +what have you brought for Adeline?" + +"Myself," he quietly answered. + +"There's many a true word spoken in jest," said Rose, with a laugh. +"You don't think you have been taking _me_ in all this time, Mr. St. +John, with your letters to Mary Carr, and her envelopes back again? +Bah! pas si bête." + +She went, waltzing, on to the colonnade. + +Mr. St. John turned to Miss Carr, and thanked her for the very thing +Rose had named. "I presume you know," he said, "that our +correspondence was perfectly justified, though I did not wish it +declared until my return--that we are affianced to each other?" + +"I have feared it some time, Mr. St. John." + +"_Feared it?_" + +"Yes. Adeline is promised to another: and the French look upon such +engagements as sacred." + +"In a general way. But there are cases of exception. We have your good +wishes, I hope?" + +"Indeed you have. For I fear it may be a matter of life or death to +Adeline--according as it may be decided. She is a sensitive plant." + +"And shall be cherished as one." + +It was a most uncomfortable dinner that day. Mr. St. John was present, +looking quiet and resolute; de la Chasse furious. During the afternoon +some inkling of the pretensions of Mr. St. John had oozed out, and de +la Chasse aspersed him in his absence before them all. After dinner, +Signor de Castella led the way to the billiard-room, hoping, probably, +that the knocking about of balls might dissipate the constraint. But +it came to an open rupture. Some difference of opinion arose about the +game. St. John was haughty and unbending: de la Chasse gave way to his +anger, and so far forgot himself as personally to attack, by words, +Mr. St. John. "A spendthrift, who had run through his own fortune, to +come hunting after Adeline's----" + +"Vous êtes menteur!" shouted Mr. St. John, forgetting his manners, and +turning short upon the Baron. But what further he might have said was +stopped by Adeline, who, terrified out of self-control, darted across +the room, and, touching St. John's arm, whispered him to be calm for +her sake. De la Chasse advanced and offered his hand to remove +Adeline, but St. John held her by him in haughty defiance. + +"Mademoiselle, you are degrading yourself!" said M. de la Chasse. +"Come from his side." + +There was no answer from St. John, save a quiet smile of power, and +his retaining hold of Adeline. The Baron looked at M. de Castella, but +the scene had really passed so quickly that the latter had found no +breath to interfere. "Is it fit that my promised wife should thus be +subjected to insult in my presence, sir?" he asked. + +"Adeline," interposed M. de Castella, sternly, "return to your +mother." + +"She is _my_ promised wife," said Mr. St. John to the Baron, "and I +have a right to retain her here--the right of affection. A right that +_you_ will never have." + +De la Chasse was foaming--presenting a very contrast to the cool +equanimity of Mr. St. John. "I will not bandy words with him: I will +not. Signor de Castella, when your salon shall be freed from that man, +I will re-enter it." + +Wheeling round upon his heel, he went out, banging the door after him. +For a moment there was silence: St. John, his hold still on Adeline, +remained at the far end of the room; Signor de Castella, half +paralyzed with the scandal, was near the billiard-table; the rest were +in a group by the crimson ottoman, Agnes de Beaufoy crossing herself +perpetually, Madame de Castella the very image of dismay. + +"Mademoiselle," spoke the Signor to his daughter, who was sobbing +aloud in her terror and agitation, "do you dare to disobey me? I told +you to go to your mother." + +"_She_ does not disobey you, sir, and never would do so willingly," +returned Mr. St. John. "The fault was mine." + +He released his hold on Adeline as he spoke, took her hand with almost +ceremonious politeness, and conducted her across the room to the side +of her mother. + +"These scenes must be put a stop to, Mr. St. John," cried the Signor. +"You received my answer this morning on the subject." + +"Only to re-enter upon it, sir. The particulars which I spared then, I +will relate now." + +"I do not wish to hear them," said Signor de Castella, speaking +irritably. + +"Sir," calmly interposed Mr. St. John, "I demand it as a right. The +Baron has been freely remarking upon me and my conduct today, I +understand, in the hearing of all now present, and I must be permitted +to justify myself." + +"You must allow for the feeling of irritation on the Baron's part. You +are neither devoid of cool judgment nor sound sense, Mr. St. John." + +"That is just what I have allowed for," replied Mr. St. John, frankly. +"He feels, no doubt, that he is an injured man; and so I have been +willing to show him consideration. Any other man, speaking of me as de +la Chasse has done, would have--have--been treated differently." + +"Let this unpleasant matter be dropped, Mr. St. John," was the +resolute answer. + +"Sir, I beg you to listen to my explanation; I ask it you in courtesy: +it shall be given without disguise. When I came of age, I obtained +possession of a handsome fortune. It is all dissipated. I was not free +from the faults of youth, common to my inexperience and rank, and I +was as extravagant as my worst enemy could wish. But I solemnly assert +that I never have been guilty of a bad thought, of a dishonourable +action. There is not a man or woman living, who can bring a word of +reproach against me, save that of excessive imprudence in regard to my +money--and a good part of that went to help those who wanted it worse +than I do. Well, about a twelvemonth ago, I was cleared out, and had +liabilities to the amount of a few thousands besides----" + +"Pray do not enter upon these details, Mr. St. John," interrupted +Signor de Castella. + +"Sir, I must go on--with your permission. My brother, Mr. Isaac St. +John, sent for me to Castle Wafer. He pointed out to me the errors of +my career: bade me reflect upon the heedless course I was pursuing. I +_had_ been reflecting on it, had become quite as awake to its ills as +he could be, and I had firmly resolved that it should end: but to a +man deep in debt, good resolutions are sometimes difficult to carry +out. My brother offered to set me free; making it a condition that I +should marry. He proposed in that case to give up to me Castle +Wafer--it has always been his intention to do so when I married--and a +very liberal settlement he offered to make on my wife, whom they had +already fixed upon----" + +"Was it Sarah Beauclerc?" interrupted Rose, who never lost her +equanimity in her life. + +"It was my cousin Anne," resumed Mr. St. John, with scarcely a glance +at Rose. "But the marriage suited neither her nor me, She was engaged, +unknown to her friends, to Captain Saville, and I was keeping her +secret. I took upon myself all the brunt of the refusal--for Captain +Saville's position, at that period, did not justify his aspiring +openly to Lady Anne St. John--and informed my brother I could not +marry Anne. High words rose between us; we parted in anger, and I +returned to London. Just then my mother's sister died, leaving me some +money. It was not very much; but it was sufficient to pay my debts, +and to this purpose it is being applied, as it is realized. By next +November every shilling I owe will be discharged. I should have +preferred not appearing again before my brother until I was a free +man, but circumstances have ordered it otherwise. I was about setting +out for Castle Wafer the day information reached me that de la Chasse +had again made his appearance here, and I came off at once, without +the credentials I should otherwise have brought with me. But you +cannot doubt me, M. de Castella?" + +"Doubt what?" + +"My ability--my power--to offer a suitable position to your daughter." + +"Sir, the question cannot arise. Though I should very much doubt it. +My daughter is not Lady Anne St. John." + +"I should have added that Lady Anne is married; a change having +occurred in Captain Saville's prospects; and she has cleared up the +past to Isaac. My brother is most anxious to be reconciled to me. And +I can take upon myself to say that all the favourable projects and +settlements he proposed for Lady Anne, will be renewed for Adeline." + +"Then you would take upon yourself to say too much, Mr. St. John: you +cannot answer for another. But to what end pursue this unprofitable +conversation? My daughter is promised to the Baron de la Chasse, and +no other man will she marry." + +"Sir," cried Mr. St. John, speaking with agitation, "will you answer +me one question? If I were in a position to offer Adeline ample +settlements; to take her to Castle Wafer as her present home--and you +know it must eventually descend to me--would you consider me a +suitable _parti_ for her?" + +"It is a question that never can arise." + +"I pray you answer it me--in courtesy," pleaded Mr. St. John. "Would +you deem me eligible in a worldly point of view?" + +"Certainly. It is an alliance that a higher family than mine might +aspire to." + +"Then, sir, I return this night to England. And will not again +present myself to you, until I come armed with these credentials." + +"Absurd! absurd!" ejaculated Signor de Castella, whilst Adeline +uttered a smothered cry of fear. "I have allowed this conversation to +go on, out of respect to you, Mr. St. John, but I beg to tell you, +once for all, that Adeline never can be yours." + +"I will not urge the subject further at present," said Mr. St. John, +as he held out his hand to bid adieu to Madame de Castella. "We will +resume it on my return from England." + +"You surely do not mean to persist in this insane journey?" abruptly +spoke M. de Castella. + +"Signor de Castella," said Mr. St. John, his pale face and his +deliberate manner alike expressive of resolute firmness, "I will not +resign your daughter. If I could forget my own feelings, I must +remember hers. To marry her to de la Chasse would be to abandon her to +the grave. She is not strong; you know it; not fitted to battle with +misery. Adeline," he added, turning to her, for she was sobbing +hysterically, "why this distress? I have repeatedly assured you, when +your fears of these explanations were great, that I would never resign +you to de la Chasse, or to any other. Hear me repeat that assertion in +the presence of your parents--by the help of Heaven, my love, you +shall be my wife." + +"Meanwhile," said M. de Castella, sarcastically, "as you are yet, at +least, under my authority, Adeline, permit me to suggest that you +retire from this room." + +She rose obediently, and went towards the door, sobbing. + +"A moment," cried Mr. St. John, deprecatingly, "if it is from my +presence you would send her. I am going myself. Adieu to all." + +He opened the door, and stood with it in his hand, glancing +hesitatingly at Adeline. Her feelings were wrought to a high pitch of +excitement, control forsook her, and darting forward she clung to the +arm of Mr. St. John, sobbing out hysterically. + +"You will return--you will not desert me--you will not leave me to +_him?_" + +He laid his hand tenderly on her shoulder, just as though they had +been alone. "It is only compulsion that takes me from you, Adeline," +he answered. "Be assured I will not let the grass grow under my feet. +When three days shall have passed, look every minute for my return: +and then, my darling, we shall part no more." + +Lower yet he bent his head, and kissed her fervently. Then resigned +her, turned, and was gone. He was a bold man. + +Adeline flung her hands over her crimsoned face. To describe the +astonished consternation of the spectators, would be a difficult task: +a kiss upon a young lady's lips in France is worse than the seven +cardinal sins. Madame de Castella escorted Adeline at once to her +chamber, and Miss de Beaufoy's grey hair stood on end. + +"Bah!" said the dear old lady. "He is a good and honourable man, +Ferdinand," turning to her son-in-law--"and he means no harm. It is +nothing, in English manners. I've had a kiss myself in my young days, +and was none the worse for it." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. +FOILED. + + +A most uncomfortable night; a still more uncomfortable morning. +Adeline lay in bed with headache; and the Baron departed for Paris at +midday. He believed, with Signor de Castella--though it may be +questioned if the latter did believe it, except in speech--that Mr. +St. John had taken himself to England for good. He did not cast blame +on Adeline: his rage was vented on St. John. As to any affection +Adeline might be suspected of entertaining for Mr. St. John, the Baron +neither thought of it nor would have understood it. + +The banns of the marriage were put up at the Mairie, and would shortly +be published in the newspapers, according to the custom of the +country,--"Alphonse Jean Hippolite, Baron de la Chasse, and Adeline +Luisa de Castella." The wedding plan was already sketched out: and +there is no doubt that this trouble regarding Mr. St. John was +hastening matters on. The religious ceremony was to take place at the +neighbouring chapel, the civil one at the Mairie at Odesque. A banquet +would be given at Beaufoy in the evening, and on the following morning +the bride and bridegroom would leave the château for Paris. In the +course of a few days, Signor and Madame de Castella would join them +there, and all four would proceed to the South together. + +Rose was gratuitously free in her remarks on the programme. "I'd have +seen them further, Adeline, with their French ideas, before they +should have made such arrangements for me!" + +Three days passed, and no Mr. St. John. Adeline was in a sad state of +excitement. Good Father Marc, who had loved her since she was a little +child, and had her interest warmly at heart, looked at her with deep +concern whenever they met. On the evening of this third day he spoke. + +"My child, I am grieved to see you unhappy. This young Englishman was +attractive, and it is natural, perhaps, that you should regret him: +but his departure renders your course of duty all the more easy." + +The priest thought he had gone for good, then! Adeline was silent: but +she could have thrown herself on the good priest's breast and wept out +her sorrow. + +"It is well that he should thus have terminated it, my poor child. +Nothing but fruitless dissatisfaction could have attended his +remaining. Never, under any circumstances, could you have allowed +yourself to espouse one of the heretical faith. Best as it is, my +child! May the care of all the saints be given to you!" + +When the fourth morning arose and did not bring St. John, Adeline's +state grew distressing. To what compare her restless anxiety? You are +all familiar with the old tale of Bluebeard. "Sister Anne, Sister +Anne, do you see anybody coming?" + +"Alas, my sister, I see only the dust from a flock of sheep." + +"Sister Anne, Sister Anne, can you see anybody coming?" + +Thus it was with Adeline. When her eyes ached with looking out, and +she retired momentarily to ease them, it would be, "Rose, Rose, do you +see him coming?" + +"No, I don't see a soul." + +And then, "Mary! go to the window. Can you see him coming?" + +And the day passed like the others, and he never came. It was, indeed, +an anxious time with her. Left to herself, the marriage would +inevitably take place, for, unsupported by St. John, she should not +dare to oppose her father. But, on the fifth morning--ah, what +relief!--he returned. Adeline, dear girl, look at him: what do you +read? A self-possessed step of triumph, a conscious smile on his fine +features, a glance of assured satisfaction in his truthful eye. He +comes, indeed, as St. John of Castle Wafer. + +Miss de Beaufoy, Adeline, and Mary were alone: the rest had gone over +to the farm. He took Adeline's hands in his: he saw how she had been +suffering. "But it is over, over," he whispered to her; "I shall never +leave you more." + +"It was unwise of you to come back, Mr. St. John," said Aunt Agnes, as +she shook hands with him. + +"It was wise of me to go," he cried, a happy flush of triumph on his +brow. "Ah, dear Miss Beaufoy, you will soon pay us a visit at Castle +Wafer. Where is Monsieur de la Chasse?" + +"He has left for Paris." + +"I am sorry for it. He styled me an adventurer--a hunter after +Adeline's fortune. Had he remained until today, he might have eaten +his words." + +"What is there to hope?" Adeline could not help whispering. + +"Hope all, hope everything, my love," was his reply. "_I_ tell you to +do so." + +St. John, like an ambassador, had brought his credentials with him. +All that he had so confidently asserted to M. de Castella was +realized. His brother had received him with open arms, joying over the +reconciliation. Solicitors were at once employed to liquidate +Frederick's remaining debts, and to set free his property. Castle +Wafer would be resigned to him on his marriage, and a brilliant +income. He had represented Adeline in glowing colours to his brother, +not enlarging on her beauty, which he said would speak for itself, but +on her numerous endearing qualities of mind and heart. And Isaac, as +he listened, became reconciled to the frustration of the marriage with +Lady Anne St. John, and wrote to Adeline that he was prepared to love +and welcome her as a daughter. His offered settlements for her were +the same as those proposed for Lady Anne, and undeniable. + +Never had Signor de Castella been so thoroughly put out. We are apt to +believe what we wish, and he had been suffering himself to assume that +Mr. St. John would really not return. Matters seemed to be becoming +serious. With a bad grace he received the letter presented to him from +Mr. Isaac St. John. It contained formal proposals for Adeline, with an +explanatory detail of what has been stated above, submitting the whole +to Signor de Castella's approval. The letter also preferred a request, +which Frederick was to urge in person, that the Signor and his family +would at once visit Castle Wafer and become acquainted with the home +to which he consigned his child. The marriage could then take place as +soon as was convenient, either in England or France, as might be +agreed upon; after which, Frederick would take her to a warmer clime +for the winter months. + +Annoyed as M. de Castella was, he could not but be flattered at the +honour done him, for he well knew that Isaac St. John of Castle Wafer +might aspire, for his brother, to a higher alliance than this would +be. But he showed his vexation. + +"You have acted improperly, Mr. St. John, both towards me and towards +your brother. Pray, did you tell him that Adeline was all but the wife +of another?" + +"I told him everything," said Mr. St. John, firmly; "and he agreed +with me, that for Adeline's own sake, if not for mine, she must be +rescued from the unhappiness which threatens her." + +"You are bold, sir," cried M. de Castella, a flush of anger rising to +his brow. + +"I am," returned Mr. St. John, "bold and determined. You must pardon +the avowal. It would ill become me to be otherwise, when so much is at +stake." + +M. de Castella wheeled back his easy-chair as he sat, the only +diversion from the uncomfortable straight-backed seats which graced +his cabinet. "Listen to me," he said; "I hope finally. Your journey to +Castle Wafer, as I warned you it would be, has been worse than +profitless: our conversation is the same. No human entreaty or +menace--could such be offered me--would alter my determination one +iota. Adeline will marry de la Chasse." + +"I have abstained from urging my own feelings," said Mr. St. John, +warmly, "but you must be aware that my happiness is at stake. My whole +future, so to speak, is bound up in Adeline." + +"You do well not to urge them; it would make no difference. I am +sorry; but it would not. This must end, Mr. St. John. I have already +expressed my acknowledgments to you for the honour done me in your +wish for an alliance; I shall express them presently to your brother. +And I have no objection to confess, that, under other circumstances, I +might have been tempted to entertain it, in spite of the difference in +our faith. But the barriers between you and Adeline are insuperable." + +"Oh, M. de Castella, pray reflect. I have been bred with as nice a +sense of honour as you: I venture to say it: and I trust I shall never +be guilty of aught to tarnish that honour. But I should deem it an +unrighteous thing to sacrifice to it a fellow-creature's happiness, +and she an only child." + +"Oh, tush! Sacrifice!--happiness! These chimeras of the imagination +are not recognized by us. Adeline may rebel in spirit--may repine for +a week or two, but when once she is married to the Baron, she will +settle down contentedly enough." + +"You are killing her," exclaimed St. John, in some excitement. "You +may not see it, but what I tell you is true. The painful suspense and +agitation she has been exposed to lately, if continued, would kill +her." + +"Then if such be your opinion, Mr. St. John," returned the Signor, +sarcastically, "you should put an end to it by withdrawing yourself." + +"I will not withdraw; I will not give up Adeline. I am more worthy of +her than he is." + +"You have been highly reprehensible throughout the affair. You knew +that Adeline was promised to another, and it was your duty to fly the +place, or at least absent yourself from her, when you found an +attachment was arising." + +"I don't know that I was awake to it in time. But if I had been, most +likely I should not have flown. Had I been needy, as that man called +me, or one whose rank were inferior to hers, then my duty would have +been plain; but the heir to Castle Wafer has no need to fly like a +craven." + +"Not on that score--not on that score. Had Adeline been but a peasant +and engaged to another, you should have respected that engagement, and +left her free." + +"I did not set myself out to gain her love. I assure you, Signor, that +the passion which grew up between us was unsought on either side. It +was the result of companionship, of similar tastes and sympathies; and +it was firmly seated, I am convinced, in both our hearts, before I +ever uttered a word, or gave way to an action that could be construed +into a wooing one. And you will forgive me for reminding you, that had +Adeline regarded de la Chasse with the feelings essential to render a +marriage with him happy, she must have remained indifferent to me." + +"Our conference is at an end," observed M. de Castella, rising: "I beg +to state that I can never suffer it to be renewed. Finally: I feel +obliged, flattered, by the honour you would have done Adeline, but I +have no alternative but to decline it." + +"You have an alternative, Signor de Castella." + +"_I have none_. I have none, on my honour. Will you be the bearer of +my despatch to Castle Wafer?" + +"No. I shall remain where I am for the present." + +"I cannot pretend to control your movements, Mr. St. John, but it will +be well that you absent yourself until after my daughter's marriage. +Where you to come in contact with the Baron, much unpleasantness might +ensue." + +"He is not here. Therefore at present that question cannot arise." + +"I have no wish that our friendship should terminate: I may add that I +do not wish it even to be interrupted, if you will but be reasonable. +You must be aware"--and for a moment the Signor relapsed into a tone +of warm cordiality--"that we have all liked you very much, Mr. St. +John, and have enjoyed your society in an unusual degree. Indeed it is +this very feeling for you which has thrown difficulties in the way: +but for that, the house would have been closed to you on your first +rejection. You may stay where you are, and welcome; you may come still +and see us, and welcome; provided you will exercise common sense, and +allow matters to take their proper course." + +Mr. St. John made no reply whatever. He said good morning, and left +the cabinet, nearly running against Father Marc, who was waiting to +enter it. + +After that there ensued what might be called a lull in the storm. St. +John came occasionally to Beaufoy, sometimes met Adeline, by chance as +it seemed, out of doors; but nothing more was heard of his +pretensions. Meanwhile active preparations for the wedding went on: +and the two young lady visitors prolonged their stay, having obtained +leave from home and from Madame de Nino to do so. + +And now we have to approach a phase of the history upon which it is +not pleasant to touch. Mr. St. John made one final effort to shake the +resolve of Signor de Castella; or, rather, attempted to make it, but +was met by a peremptory command never to introduce the subject again. +After that, it appeared to him that there was only one alternative, +and he cautiously ventured to break it to Adeline--that of flying with +him. It was received with terror and reproach--as was only natural; +she felt indeed inexpressibly shocked, not only at the proposition +itself, but that he should make it. But Mr. St. John persevered. He +attempted reason first: if she did not take this step, how would she +avoid the marriage with de la Chasse? He brought forth arguments of +the most persuasive eloquence: and reasoning eloquence is convincing, +when it comes from beloved lips. + +Let us give St. John his due. He truly thought, in all honour, that he +was acting for the best, for Adeline's welfare. It could scarcely be +called an elopement that he was urging, since he took measures for it +to be countenanced and assisted by his family. He told them the whole +case, the entire truth; he implored them, for Adeline's sake, to save +her. To follow the progress of the matter day by day, step by step, +would be useless: it is sufficient to say that he at length wrung a +tardy and most reluctant consent from Adeline. + +It wanted but three days to that fixed for the grand wedding, when she +stood with him in the shrubbery in the twilight of the hot evening. +There was indeed little time to lose, if she was to be saved. He put +into her hand a letter addressed to her by his mother. + + +"My Dear Mademoiselle De Castella, + +"Frederick writes me word that you demurred to the arguments of my +last letter, as being used only out of courtesy to you. You judge +perfectly right in believing that I look upon elopements with a severe +eye; every gentlewoman does so, if she be conscientious. But your case +appears to be a most peculiar one. Your whole future happiness, +perhaps life, is at stake; and I really do think Frederick is right in +saying that it is a duty before Heaven to save you from this obnoxious +marriage that is being forced upon you. It is a cruel thing to +sacrifice you merely to the pledging of a word--and that is so, if I +understand the matter rightly. Signor de Castella has stated (in his +letter to my stepson, Mr. Isaac St. John) that were it not for this +unlucky previous contract to which he is plighted, he should be proud +of the alliance with Frederick; that to him personally he has no sort +of objection. To tell you the truth, it appeared to me, from the +wording of this letter (which my stepson sent up for my perusal) that +your father would be glad of a pretext for breaking the contract, but +that it seemed to him a simple impossibility that any such pretext +could be found. It is this fact--though it may be better to call it +opinion--which was my chief inducement to countenance the step now +contemplated by Frederick. And if it must take place (and, as I say, I +see no other way of escape for you), it is better that it should be +done with my sanction; which will absolve you afterwards in the +judgment of the world. + +"I am not sufficiently recovered to travel to the coast, as Frederick +wished, but Lady Anne Saville has offered to supply my place. She +leaves with her husband for Folkestone the day after tomorrow, and +will receive you there from Frederick's hands. She will conduct you at +once to London, to my house, where you will remain my guest until the +marriage, which of course must take place at once; after which, you +will leave for Castle Wafer, and pass there a brief sojourn before you +start for the South. The settlements are here, waiting for your +signature and Frederick's: Mr. Isaac St. John has already affixed his, +and he will be in London before you arrive. + +"I am impatient to receive and welcome you. Believe me, my dear child, +that I will always endeavour to be to you an affectionate mother. + +"Selina St. John." + + +"You will be in readiness tomorrow night," he whispered, as she +closed the letter. + +"When are we to be married?" she asked, after a pause. She might well +bend her sweet face downwards as she asked it. + +"Adeline, you see what my mother says. I have written to procure a +special licence, so that the Protestant ceremony shall be performed on +our arrival, securing us from separation. Should the forms of your own +religion require any delay, which I do not anticipate, you will remain +with my mother until they can be completed. My home in town is at +Mivart's." + +"You--you will be kind to me?" she faltered, bursting into tears. "I +am leaving a happy home, my mother, my father, the friends of my +childhood, I am leaving all for you; you will be ever kind to me?" + +"Adeline," he interrupted, "how can you ask the question? I am about +to make you my dear wife; I will cherish you as you never yet were +cherished. Your parents have loved you dearly, but not with such a +love as mine. Heaven helping me, your life shall be one dream of +happiness. No mother ever watched over her first-born, as I will watch +over and cherish you." + +Save for the wild beating of her heart, as his hand lay against it, he +might have thought her cold, so still did she stand. It was the +impassioned repose of all-perfect love, too deep, too pure for +utterance. + +"You are leaving this home for one more beautiful," he continued: "you +will forgive me for saying so when you see Castle Wafer. A home where +you will reign its idol. I speak not now of myself. Its retainers are +tried and faithful: they have been ours from generation to generation. +They served my father, they have served my brother, they will serve +me; and you, their mistress, will be revered and worshipped. It will +be a happy home. We may sojourn occasionally in foreign lands; mingle +in the gaieties of the world; but we shall return to it with a zest +that in time will render us loth to quit it. There we will bring up +our children, training them to goodness; there we will learn to live, +so that we may become worthy to inherit a better world: the mode of +worship may be different, but the faith and end are the same--one +hope, one heaven, one God. Oh, Adeline, put away all fear for the +future, all doubt of me, if indeed you could have such! I would bid +another trust to my honour, I conjure you to confide in my love." + +As they turned to the house, after a few hasty moments given to the +arrangement of their plans, a sudden cough, sounding very near, +startled them. St. John stepped aside a few paces, and saw, seated on +a bench, Father Marc. Could he have been there long? If so, he must +have heard more than was expedient, for he understood English. St. +John bit his lip with vexation. + +"Are you there, father?" + +"I have this instant sat down, my son. I am no longer young, and my +legs pain me when I walk far. My course this evening has been a long +one." + +"He may have come up only now," was the mental conclusion of Mr. St. +John. + +"Is that Mademoiselle with you?" resumed the priest--for Adeline, in +her vexation, did not come prominently forward. "Should the child be +abroad in the night-air?" + +"No. I am going to take her indoors. But it is not night yet." + +Not yet: it was twilight still: but a dampness was already arising, +the effect of the day's heat. The weather was very sultry, even for +the close of August, the days being one blaze of sunshine. Adeline +hastened in: she had been away not much more than five minutes, but +she dreaded being missed. + +The plan for getting away was this. On the following night Adeline was +to retire to her chamber early, under plea of headache, or some other +slight indisposition; and, after dismissing Louise, to habit herself +as she deemed suitable for her journey. She was then to steal +downstairs and out of the house, before it was locked up for the +night, and join Mr. St. John in the garden, who would be awaiting her. +The same nondescript vehicle, which was a sort of long gig with a +white calico head to it, that had served Mr. St. John on a previous +occasion, and was both light and fleet, would be in readiness to +convey them to Odesque. There they would take the night-train from +Amiens to Boulogne and go at once on board the Folkestone steamer, Mr. +St. John having taken care to ascertain that the tide served at a +suitable hour for them, the steamer starting early in the morning. +Once at Folkestone, he resigned her into the charge of Captain and +Lady Anne Saville. By these means they hoped to get a whole night's +start before the absence of Adeline was discovered at Beaufoy. The +scheme appeared feasible enough in theory. But--in practice? that +remained to be proved. + +The eventful day arose; and what a day it was for Adeline! Not only +was Adeline de Castella a bad one to carry on any sort of deception, +but she looked upon the act she was about to commit, the quitting +clandestinely her father's home, as a very heinous crime indeed. It +was not her love for Mr. St. John that took her: swayed by that alone, +she had not dared to do it: it was her intense horror of becoming the +wife of Alphonse de la Chasse. Could she only have changed natures for +that one day with Miss Rose Darling! + +But the day was got through somehow, even by Adeline, and evening drew +on. After dinner they were sitting in the favourite room, the western +drawing-room, when Mr. St. John came in. Some of them looked up in +surprise: his visits latterly had been rare. He was unusually silent +and thoughtful, and little was said by any one. Signor de Castella was +playing chess with Agnes, and did not speak to him after the first +greeting. Old Madame de Beaufoy was playing écarté with Mary Carr. + +An ominous spirit of dulness seemed to sit upon them all. The room +seemed so intensely still. Rose, who hated dulness as she hated +poison, started up and opened the piano, hoping perhaps to dispel it, +and began to look amidst the pile of music. She chose an old song; an +out-of-date bygone song that she had not sung for months, perhaps +years. _How_ came she to hunt it up? It was a strange coincidence; +little less than a fatality. The song was "Kathleen Mavourneen." Had +any one asked Rose to sing it, she would have cast back a sarcasm on +the "perverted taste," on "English ideas," "vandalism," and commenced +instead some new Italian or German thing, and screamed it through in +defiance. On this night she began the song of her own accord; and I +say it was a fatality. + + + "To think that from Erin and thee I must part-- + It may be for years, and it may be for ever----" + + +Thus far had Rose sung, when deep sobs startled her. They came from +Adeline. She had been leaning back in her grandmamma's fauteuil, pale +and quiet, but full of inward agitation. The song seemed singularly +applicable to her, and she had listened to its words as they went on +with an oppressed heart. Singularly applicable! She was leaving her +country, her home, and her dear parents, it might be for years, or it +might be for ever. In these moments of sadness, a straw will unhinge +the outward composure. Adeline's sobs burst forth with violence, and +it was entirely beyond her power to control them. The whole room +looked up in amazement, and Rose brought her song to a sudden +standstill. + +Mr. St. John, who was near the piano, strode forward impulsively +towards Adeline; but arrested his steps half way, and strode as +impulsively back again. Anxious inquiries were pressed upon Adeline, +and her mother laid down her embroidery and went to her. Adeline +seemed to recover herself by magic, so far as outward calmness went. +She excused herself in few words: it was a fit of low spirits; she had +not felt well all day, and Rose's song had affected her; the feeling +had passed now. Mr. St. John whispered to Rose to begin another song, +and she did so. He then wished the party good night, and left. +By-and-by, Adeline, pleading fatigue, said she would go to bed. + +"Do so, dear child," acquiesced her mother; "you don't seem very +well." + +"Good night, dear, dear mamma," she said, clinging round her mother's +neck, while the rebellious tears again streamed from her eyes. She +would have given half the anticipated happiness of her future life for +her mother to have blessed her, but she did not dare to ask it. She +approached her father last, hesitatingly; kissed him--a most unusual +thing, for he was not a man to encourage these familiarities, even +from his daughter--and left the room struggling convulsively to +suppress her sobs. + +After sitting in her chamber a few minutes, to recover serenity, she +rang for Louise. Up came that demoiselle, in open surprise that her +young lady should have retired so early. Adeline said she had a +headache, let her take off her dress, and then dismissed her. + +Adeline bolted the door and began to look around her. Shock the first: +her wardrobe was locked and the key gone. The dress and bonnet she +meant to wear were in it; so she had to ring again. + +"I want the key of the wardrobe," she said, when Louise entered. "It +is locked." + +Louise felt in her pocket, brought forth the key, and threw the doors +back on their hinges. "What should she give to mademoiselle?" + +This was difficult to answer. At any other time Adeline would +have ordered her to leave the wardrobe open, and go. But her +self-consciousness and dread of discovery caused her to hesitate then. + +"I want--a--pocket-handkerchief," stammered Adeline. + +Sharply the doors were flung to again, locked, and the key returned to +Louise's pocket. "Parbleu, mademoiselle," was her exclamation, turning +to a chest of drawers, "as if your handkerchiefs were kept in the +wardrobe!" + +Adeline knew they were not as well as Louise, but just then she had +not her wits about her. She was growing desperate. + +"One would think we had a thief in the house, by the way you keep +places locked," she exclaimed. "Leave the wardrobe open, Louise." + +"Indeed, and we have something as bad as a thief," answered Louise, +grumblingly. "If Susanne wants anything for madame, and thinks she can +find it here, she makes no scruple of coming and turning about +mademoiselle's things. Only three days ago it took me an hour to put +them straight after her." + +"Well, leave the wardrobe open for tonight," said Adeline: "you can +lock it again tomorrow, if you will" And Mademoiselle Louise swung +the doors back again, and quitted the room. + +Adeline proceeded to dress herself. She put on a dark silk dress, a +light thin cashmere shawl, and a straw bonnet trimmed with white +ribbons. She also threw over her shoulders a costly silk travelling +cloak, lined and trimmed with ermine. It had been a present to her +from Madame de Beaufoy against her journey to the South. She was soon +ready, but it was scarcely time to depart. She was pale as death; so +pale that the reflection of her own face in the glass startled her. +Her head swam round, her limbs trembled, and she felt sick at heart. +She began to doubt if she should have strength to go. She sat down and +waited. + +The minutes passed rapidly: it would soon be time, if she went at all. +She felt in her pocket: all was there. Her purse, containing a few +Napoleons; her handkerchief; a small phial of Cologne water; and a +little case containing _his_ gifts and letters. + +She arose and placed her hands upon the lock of the door; but, too ill +and agitated to proceed, turned round, drank a glass of water, and sat +down again. The longer she stopped, the worse she grew; and, making a +desperate effort, she extinguished the light, opened the door, and +glided to the top of the stairs. + +All seemed quiet. She could hear the murmur of the servants' voices in +their distant apartments, nothing else, and she stole noiselessly down +the staircase, and across the lighted hall. As she was opening the +front door, some one came out of the western drawing-room, and +Adeline, with a quick, nervous effort, passed through, before whoever +it was should be in sight, pulling the door gently after her. + +Oh, misery! oh, horror! Planted at the foot of the steps, right in +front of her, as if he had stopped on the spot and fallen into a +reverie, was the priest, Father Marc. He glided up the steps, and +seized her arm; and Adeline cried out, with a shrill, startled cry. + +It was heard by Mademoiselle de Beaufoy, who was crossing the hall, +and she came running out. It was heard by Mr. St. John from his +hiding-place, behind one of the lions of the fountain, and he hastened +forward. + +"Oh, Adeline, mistaken child, what is this?" exclaimed her aunt. "You +would leave your home clandestinely! you, Adeline de Castella!" + +"Aunt! aunt! have mercy on me! I--I do believe I am dying! I would +rather die than go through what I have gone through lately!" + +"And better for you," was the stern reply. "Death is preferable to +dishonour." + +She was interrupted by the appearance of Mr. St. John. Adeline broke +from her aunt and the priest, and fell forward in his arms, with a +smothered cry: "Oh, Frederick! Frederick! protect me in this dreadful +hour!" + +Agnes de Beaufoy flew into the drawing-room, crying out that Mr. St. +John was running away with Adeline, and they all went flocking out. +St. John's first effort was an attempt to soothe Adeline: his second +to bear her into the house. The priest, a kind-hearted man, went away +in the direction of his chapel. + +For some time all was astonishment and confusion. Every one seemed to +be talking at once, reproaching Mr. St. John. She still clung to him, +as if to part with him would be to part with life; and he protected +her valiantly. The first distinguishable words were from Signor de +Castella. + +"So this is the recompense we receive from you! basely to betray her! +to lead her to dishonour!" + +St. John was paler than they ever remembered to have seen him, but his +voice and bearing were perfectly calm. "I was leading her away to +happiness," he answered; "ere many hours had elapsed she would have +been my honoured wife. Had my mother been well, she would have +received her at Folkestone, but she is unable yet to quit her room, +and Lady Anne Saville, than whom one of higher character and +consideration does not exist, is there awaiting her, accompanied by +her husband. My brother vacates Castle Wafer for her reception; the +settlements, as they were proposed to you, are drawn up, awaiting our +signatures; and until the marriage could have taken place--had there +been but an hour's delay--Adeline would have remained under my +mother's roof and protection, conducted to it by Lady Anne. There are +the vouchers for what I assert," he added, throwing some letters on +the table, "_I_ lead her to dishonour! Had you, Signor de Castella, +evinced the consideration for her happiness, that I have for her +honour, there would not now be this dispute." + +"And you, shameless girl, thus to disgrace your name!" + +"Reproach her not," interrupted Mr. St. John. "I will not suffer a +harsh word to her in my presence. For this step I alone am to blame. +Adeline was resolute in refusing to listen or accede to it, and she +never would have done so but for the countenance afforded to her in it +by my family. Signor de Castella, this is no moment for delicacy: I +therefore tell you openly she shall be my wife. Our plans of tonight +are frustrated, and should we not be able to carry out any other for +her escape, Adeline must renounce at the altar the husband you would +thrust upon her." + +"You are insolent, sir," said M. de Castella. + +"Not insolent," he replied, "but determined." + +There is no time to pursue the discussion. It was long and stormy. +Madame de Castella cried all the time, but old Madame de Beaufoy was a +little inclined to favour St. John. Not that she approved of the +attempted escapade, but he was so wondrous a favourite of hers, that +she could not remain in anger with him long, and she kept rapping her +stick on the floor at many things he said, to indicate approval, +something after the manner of a certain house of ours, when it cries +out "Hear, hear!" Adeline stood by Mr. St. John, shaking with +convulsive sobs, her white veil covering her face, the costly cloak +falling from her shoulders and sweeping the ground. Her father +suddenly turned to her. + +"Adeline de Castella, are you determined to marry this man?" + +"Speak out, Adeline," said Mr. St. John, for no answer came from her. + +"I--cannot--marry de la Chasse," she faltered. + +"And you are determined to marry him--this Protestant Englishman?" + +"If I may," she whispered, her sobs growing violent. + +"Tomorrow morning I will discuss with you this subject," proceeded M. +de Castella, still addressing his daughter. "At the conclusion of our +interview, you shall be free to choose between--between the husband I +marked out for you, and him who now stands by your side." + +"On your honour?" exclaimed Mr. St. John, surprised by the remark. + +"My word, sir, is valuable as yours," was the haughty reply. "When my +daughter shall have heard what I have to say, she shall then be free +to follow her own will. I will not further influence her." + +"You will permit me to receive her decision from her own lips?" + +"I tell you I will not further control her. She shall be as free to +act as I am. And now, Mr. St. John, good night to you." + +"Would to Heaven I might remain and watch over you this night!" he +whispered, as he reluctantly released Adeline. "You need all soothing +consolation, and there are none to offer it. Yet be comforted, my dear +love, for if M. de Castella shall keep his word, it is our last +parting." + +"He is a noble fellow, with all his faults," mentally ejaculated Agnes +de Beaufoy, as she watched Mr. St. John's receding form. And "all his +faults," what were they? That he would have interfered in another's +marriage contract, and stolen away the bride, to make her his own. + +"I did not think Adeline had it in her!" exclaimed Rose, in a glow of +delight, partly to the company, chiefly to herself. Rose had stood in +a rapture of admiration the whole time. Adeline and Mary could not +cast old scores at her, now. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. +A CRISIS IN A LIFE. + + +The dreaded interview with M. de Castella was all but over, and +Adeline leaned against the straight-backed chair in the cabinet, more +dead than alive, so completely had her father's words bereft her of +hope and energy. + +When Mr. St. John first opened the affair, Signor de Castella had felt +considerably annoyed, and would not glance at the possibility of +breaking the contract with de la Chasse. But the Signor, cold as he +was in manner, was not, at heart, indifferent to Adeline's happiness. +And when he found how entirely she was bound up in Mr. St. John, and +the latter brought forth his munificent proposals and departed for +England to get them triumphantly confirmed, then he began in secret to +waver. But now stepped in another. + +You, who read this, are of course aware that in many Roman Catholic +families, especially foreign ones, the confessor exercises much +influence over temporal matters as well as spiritual. And though the +confessor to the Castellas, Father Marc, had not hitherto seen cause, +or perhaps had opportunity, to put himself forward in such affairs, he +felt himself bound to do so now. But you must not jump to a mistaken +conclusion, or fancy he was one of those overbearing priests sometimes +represented in works of fiction. That there are meddlers in all +positions of life--in the Romish Church as well as in our Reformed +one--every one knows. But Father Marc was not one of these. He was a +good and conscientious man, and though an over-rigid Romanist, it was +only in zeal for the Faith of his country, the religion to which he +had been born and reared. No other Faith, according to his tenets, to +his firm belief, would lead a soul to Heaven: and he deemed that he +was acting for the best, nay, for the immortal interest of Adeline. Do +not blame him! He loved the child, whom he had watched grow up from +infancy. He honestly believed that to suffer Adeline to marry an +Englishman and a heretic and make her home in Protestant England, +would be to consign her to perdition. He therefore placed his veto +upon it, a veto that might not be gainsaid, and forbid the contract to +be interrupted with de la Chasse. If he interfered, with what may +appear to us desperate measures, he believed the cause to be desperate +which justified them; and he acted in accordance with the dictates of +his own conscience; with what he deemed his duty to Adeline, to his +religion, and to God. + +She knew it all now: the secret of her father's obstinacy, and why she +must give up Mr. St. John and marry de la Chasse. She knew that if her +father consented to her heretical marriage, or if she of herself +persisted in contracting it, the Curse of the Church was to alight +upon her, and upon her father's house. _The Curse of the Church!_ +Adeline had been reared in all the belief and doctrines of the Romish +faith, and she could no more have dared to act in defiance of that +awful curse, than she would have dared to raise her hand against her +own life. She leaned her head back on the uncomfortable chair, and +moaned aloud in her overwhelming anguish. It might be cruel of Father +Marc to have whispered of such a thing, but he had done it in his +zealous love. Desperate diseases require desperate remedies. + +"The alternative of a convent," she gasped, "cannot that be given me?" + +"No," replied M. de Castella, who was painfully frigid throughout the +interview, perhaps as a guard to his own feelings. "You must marry. +Your mother and I cannot consent to lose you from our sight, as, in +the will of Providence, we lost Maria. You must choose between this +Englishman and him to whom you are betrothed. If you marry the +Englishman, you--and I, Adeline--will be put beyond the pale of +Heaven. Marry him who expects, ere three days, to be your husband, and +you will lead a tranquil life here, with sure hope of a Hereafter." + +"Does my mother know of this?" she asked. + +"No. She will know it soon enough if your decision be against us." + +"Oh papa, papa!" she burst forth, in momentary abandonment to the +feelings that seemed to be killing her, "can I not live on with you +and mamma always, unmarried?" + +"You cannot, Adeline. The only child that is left to us must fulfil +woman's appointed destiny on earth. And not shrink from it," he +sternly added. + +There was little more to be said, nothing more to be understood. She +comprehended it all, and the situation she was placed in. She knew +that, for her, all of peace and joy on earth was over. A mirror of the +future flashed before her mind's eye: she saw herself battling with +its waves, and it was one broad sea of never-ending agony. Her heart +fluttered violently, as it had never before fluttered: there was a +strange sensation within her, as of some mighty weight, some torment +rushing to her brain. She tottered as she rose from the chair, and +laid hold of the table to steady herself. "There--there is nothing +more?" she whispered. + +"Nothing, Adeline. Save to give your reply to Mr. St. John." + +She was passing to the door when a word arrested her. She leaned +against one of the secretaires as her father spoke. + +"I do not ask what your decision will be, Adeline. I have laid the +case before you, as it exists, without circumlocution and without +disguise. I said last night I would not bias your choice by a word of +mine, and I will not." + +The words sounded in her ear very like a mockery, and wild thoughts +came across her, as she stood, of falling at her father's feet, and +beseeching him to have mercy. But she remembered that mercy, for her, +did not rest with him. + +Signor de Castella became alarmed at her ghastly look. He went forward +and took her hands, speaking with more emotion than he had ever +betrayed. + +"Adeline, may our holy Mother support you through this! I have but +your welfare at heart, and were your temporal interests alone in +question, I would not oppose your inclinations. Child, I would give +the half of my fortune, now, to ensure your happiness here. But--when +it comes to pass that the interests of Eternity are at stake, no +choice, as it seems to me, is left us. The Church has you in its +keeping, and must be obeyed: I, at least, have no alternative: act, +you, as you please. I have said that I would not coerce you; I do not. +If your decision be against us, you shall depart for England today +under the protection of your Aunt Agnes, who will remain and see you +married. Hush! do not tell your decision to me; indeed, I am trying to +keep my promise of leaving it entirely to you. Make your choice, and +then give it to Mr. St. John." + +He had released her as he was speaking. She was laying her hand upon +the door, when her father spoke again. She turned towards him. + +"There is one thing, Adeline. Whatever be your decision you must not +impart the nature of the impediment to Mr. St. John." + +"Not tell him the cause!" she gasped--and the very words spoke all too +plainly of what the decision would be--"not tell him!" + +"Holy saints, no!" he rejoined, his voice rising between surprise, +anger, and emotion. "I had scarcely thought it necessary to caution +you. Not a word must be breathed. Our Church permits not her modes of +dealing to be revealed to--to heretics." + +He had made a pause at the last word, as if unwilling to speak it. +With all his coldness and his bigotry, he was an essentially courteous +man at heart. Adeline clasped her hands in piteous beseeching, but he +interrupted the prayer hovering upon her lips. + +"_It must not be, Adeline_: Mr. St. John is not one of us. Surely you +are not growing disaffected!" he continued, in a sharp tone. "It has +occurred to me at times that I may have done wrong in allowing you to +be so much here in your grandmother's home. When she married she +quitted her Protestant faith and embraced ours, but I doubt whether +she has ever been zealous in it at heart." + +The tears shone in her eyes at the accusation, but she was too +miserable, too agitated to let them fall. + +"Only a hint to him, papa!" she implored. "Permit it to me in mercy. +Only a hint!" + +"Not a hint; not a word," he sternly rejoined. "I forbid it. The +Church forbids it. Promise this." + +"I promise," she faintly said, yielding to the compulsion. + +"Kiss the crucifix." + +He took down the small, beautiful image of our Saviour, in carved +ivory, that was wont to hang over the mantelpiece, and held it to her +lips. She did as she was told, and so sealed the secret. + +There was nothing more. Adeline, a very ghost of despair, quitted the +cabinet. Outside she encountered Rose. + +"What a long time you have been in there!" was the young lady's eager +exclamation. "Your wedding-dress is come, with lots more things, +nearly a fourgon full, Louise says. They are gone upstairs to +inspect them, and I have been waiting for you, all impatience. No +reason why we should not admire them, you know, though matters are +cross. But--Adeline!" + +Adeline lifted her eyes at the sudden exclamation. + +"How ill you look!" + +"Is Mr. St. John in the drawing-room?" was the only rejoinder. + +"He has been there this half-hour. I left him there, 'all alone in his +glory,' for I could stay away from the view no longer. I shall go +upstairs without you, if you are not coming." + +"I will follow you presently," she murmured. + +"Adeline, let me into a secret. I won't tell. Will the dress be worn +for the purpose it was intended--de la Chasse's wedding?" + +"Yes," she feebly answered, passing on to the west drawing-room. + +Rose arrested her impatient steps, and gazed after her. + +"Whatever is the matter? How strangely ill she looks! And she says the +marriage is to come off with de la Chasse! I wonder whether that's +gospel: or nothing but a blind? When the wedding-morning comes, we may +find Jock o' Hazeldean enacted in real life. It would be glorious +fun!" + +Mr. St. John was pacing the room when Adeline went in. He met her with +a sunny smile, and would have held her to him. But Adeline de Castella +was possessed of extreme rectitude of feeling: and she now knew that +in two days' time she should be the wife of the Baron de la Chasse. +Alas! in spite of the fears that sometimes assailed her, she had, from +the beginning, too surely counted on becoming the wife of Mr. St. +John. She evaded him, and walked forward, panting for breath. + +He was alarmed as he gazed upon her. He saw the agitation she was in; +the fearful aspect of her features, which still wore the ghastly hue +they had assumed in the cabinet. He took one of her hands within his, +but even that she withdrew. + +"In the name of Heaven, Adeline, what is this?" + +She essayed to answer him, and could not. The palpitation in her +throat impeded her utterance. The oppression on her breath increased. + +"Adeline! have you no pity for my suspense?" + +"I--I--am trying to tell you," she gasped out, with a jerk between +most of her words. "I am going--to--marry _him_--de la Chasse." + +He looked at her for some moments without speaking. "You have been +ill, Adeline," he said at length. "I saw last night the state you were +in, and would have given much to remain by you." + +"I am not wandering," she answered, detecting the bent of his +thoughts. "I am telling you truth. I must marry him." + +"Adeline--if you are indeed in full possession of your senses--explain +what you would say. I do not understand." + +"It is easy enough to be understood," she replied, leaning against the +side of the large window for support. "On Saturday, their fixed +wedding-day, I shall marry him." + +"Oh, this is shameful! this is dreadful!" he exclaimed. "How can they +have tampered with you like this?" + +"They have not tampered with me, Frederick. I decide of my own will." + +"It is disgraceful! disgraceful!" he uttered. "Where is Signor de +Castella? I will tell him what I think of his conduct. _He_ talk of +honour!" + +She placed her hand upon his arm to detain him, for he was turning +from the room. "He can tell you nothing," she said. "He does not yet +know my decision. Do not blame him." + +"He said last night that you should be free to choose," impatiently +returned Mr. St. John. + +"And I am free. He--laid"--(she hardly knew how to frame her words and +yet respect her oath)--"he laid the case fully before me, and left me +to decide for myself. Had I chosen you, he said my Aunt Agnes should +accompany us today to England, and see me married. But--I--dared +not--I"--(she burst into a flood of most distressing tears)--"I must +marry de la Chasse." + +"Explain, explain." He was getting hot and angry. + +"I have nothing to explain. Only that my father left it to me, and +that I must marry him: and that my heart will break." + +When he perfectly understood her, understood that there was no hope, +the burst of reproach that came from him was terrible. Yet might it +not be excused? He had parted from her on the previous night in the +full expectation that she would be his wife: now could he think +otherwise after all that had occurred, and the concluding promise of +M. de Castella? Yet now, without preface, without reason, she told him +that she renounced him for his rival. A reason, unhappily, she dared +not give. + +Oh, once more, in spite of her resistance, Mr. St. John held her to +his heart. He spoke to her words of the sweetest and most persuasive +eloquence; he besought her to fly with him, to become his beloved +wife. And she was obliged to wrest herself from him, and assure him +that his prayers were wasted; that she was compelled to be more +obdurate than even her father had been. + +It was a fault, you know, of Mr. St. John's to be hasty and +passionate, when moved to it by any great cause; but perhaps a storm +of passion so violent as that he gave way to now, had never yet shaken +him. His reproaches were keen: entirely unreasonable: but an angry man +does not weigh his words. + +"False and fickle that you are, you have never loved me! I see it all +now. You have but led me on, to increase at the last moment the +triumph of de la Chasse. It may have been a planned thing between you! +Your true vows have been given to him, your false ones to me." + +Adeline placed her hands on his, as if imploring mercy, and would have +knelt before him; but he held her up, not tenderly. + +"If I thought you did not know your words are untrue, it would kill +me," she faltered. "Had we been married, as, until this day, I thought +and prayed we should be, you would have known how entirely I love you; +how the love will endure unto death. I can tell you this, now, because +we are about to separate, and it is the last time we must ever be +together in this world. Oh, Frederick! mercy! mercy!--do not profess +to think I have loved another." + +"You are about to marry him." + +"I shall marry him, _hating_ him; I shall marry him, loving _you_; do +you not think I have enough of misery?" + +"As I am a living man," spoke Mr. St. John, "I cannot understand this! +You say your father told you to choose between us?" + +"I feel as if I should die," she murmured; "I have felt so, at times, +for several weeks past. There is something hanging over me, I think," +she continued, passing her hand across her forehead, abstractedly. + +"Adeline," he impatiently repeated, "are you deceiving me? _Did_ your +father give you free liberty to choose between us?" + +"Yes; he gave it me--after placing the whole case before me," she was +obliged to answer. + +"And you tell me that you have deliberately chosen de la Chasse? You +give me no explanation; but cast me off like this?" + +"I dare not give it. That is"--striving to soften the words that +were wrung from her--"I have no explanation to give. Oh, Frederick, +_dearest_ Frederick--let me call you so in your presence, for the +first and last and only time--do not reproach me? Indeed, I must marry +him." + +"Of your own free deliberation, you will, on Saturday next, walk to +the altar and become his wife?" he reiterated. "Do you mean to tell me +that?" + +She made a gesture in the affirmative, her sobs rising hysterically. +What with her confused state of feeling, and the anxiety she was under +to preserve inviolate the obligation so solemnly undertaken, she was +perhaps even less explanatory than she might have been. But who, in +these moments of agitation, can act precisely as he ought? + +"Fie upon you! fie upon you!" he cried, contemptuously. "_You_ boast +of loving! you may well do so, when you had two lovers to practise +upon. I understand it all, now; your objection to my speaking, until +the last moment, to M. de Castella; you would keep us both in your +train, forsooth, incense to your vanity! You have but fooled me by +pretending to listen to my love; you have led me on, and played with +me, a slave to be sacrificed on _his_ shrine! I give you up to him +joyfully. I am well quit of you. + +"Mercy! mercy!" she implored, shrinking down, and clasping her hands +together. + +"Fool that I was to be so deceived! Light and fickle that you are, you +are not worthy to be enshrined in an honourable man's heart. I will +thrust your image from mine, until not a trace, not a recollection of +it, is left. I thank God it will be no impossible task. The spell that +bound me to you is broken. Deceitful, worthless girl, thus to have +betrayed your false heartedness at the last: but better for me to have +discovered it before marriage than after. I thank you for this, basely +treated as I have been." + +She made an effort to interrupt him, a weak, broken-hearted effort; +but his fierce torrent of speech overpowered it. + +"I go now; and, in leaving this place, shall leave its memories +behind. _I will never willingly think of you again in life_. +Contemptuously as you have cast off me, so will I endeavour in my +heart to cast off you, and all remembrance of you. I wish you +good-bye, for ever. And I hope, for de la Chasse's sake, your conduct +to him, as a wife, may be different from what it has been to me." + +There was a strange, overwhelming agony, both of body and mind, at +work within her, such as she had never experienced or dreamt of; a +chaos of confused ideas, the most painful of which was the conviction +that he was leaving her for ever in contempt and scorn. A wild +desire to detain him; to convince him that at least she was not the +false-hearted being he had painted her; to hear some kinder words from +his lips, and _those_ recalled, crowded to her brain, mixing itself up +with the confusion and despair already there. + +With his mocking farewell he had hastened from the room by way of the +colonnade; it was the nearest way to the path leading to his home, and +he was in no mood to stand upon ceremony. Adeline went after him, but +his strides were quick, and she did not gain upon his steps. She +called aloud to him, in her flood-tide of despair. + +He turned and saw her, flying down the steps after him. One repellent, +haughty gesture alone escaped him, and he quickened his pace onwards. +She saw the movement of contempt; but she still pressed on, and got +halfway across the lawn. There she sank upon the grass, at first in a +kneeling posture, her arms outstretched towards him, as if they could +bring him back, and a sharp, wailing cry of anguish escaping from her +lips. + +Why did he not look round? There was just time for it, ere he was +hidden in the dark shrubbery: he would have seen enough to drive away +his storm of anger. But waxing stronger in his wrath, he strode on, +without deigning to cast another glance behind. + +They were in the chamber over the western drawing-room, examining the +things just arrived from Paris. Rose happened to be at the window, and +saw Adeline fall. Uttering an exclamation, which caused Mary Carr also +to look, she turned from it, and ran down to her. Mary followed, but +her pace was slow, for she suspected nothing amiss, and thought +Adeline had but stooped to look at something on the grass. When Mary +reached the colonnade, Rose was up with Adeline, and seemed to be +raising her head. + +What was it? Miss Carr strained her eyes in a sort of bewildered +wonder. Of their two dresses, the one was white, the other a delicate +lilac muslin, and strange spots appeared on each of them, spots of a +fresh bright crimson colour, that glowed in the sun. Were they spots +of--_blood?_ And--was Adeline's mouth stained with it? Mary turned +sick as the truth flashed upon her. Adeline must have broken a +blood-vessel. + +Terrified, confused, for once Mary Carr lost her habitual presence of +mind. She not only rang the bell violently, but she shrieked aloud, +crying still as she hastened to the lawn. The servants came running +out, and then the family. + +Rose was kneeling on the grass, pale with terror, supporting +Adeline's head on her bosom. Rose's hair, the ends of her long golden +ringlets, were touched with the crimson, her hands marked with it; and +Adeline---- Madame de Castella fell down in a fainting-fit. + +Yes, she had broken a blood-vessel. The anguish, the emotion, too +great to bear had suddenly snapped asunder one of those little tenures +of life. Ah! the truth flashed upon more than one of those standing +around her in their consternation--those frail lungs had but been +patched up for a short time; not healed. + +They bore her round, gently as might be, from the lawn into the yellow +drawing-room, avoiding the steps of the colonnade, not daring to carry +her up to the bed-chambers, and laid her on the costly, though +somewhat old-fashioned and large sofa. What a sight she looked! the +white face, the closed eyes, telling scarcely of life, and the red +stains contrasting with the amber-velvet pillows. A groom went riding +off to Odesque at full gallop--that is, as much of a gallop as French +by-roads will allow--to bring back the Odesque doctor, the nearest +medical man. He was also charged to send a telegraphic message to +Belport for the French gentleman who had attended her in the spring; +and _he_ was requested to bring with him an English physician. + +How prone are we to cheat ourselves! that is, to try to cheat +ourselves. Signor de Castella, the first shock past, affected to talk +cheerfully--cheerfully for him--of its being only a little vessel that +had given way on the chest, not the lungs. Adeline lay on the sofa, +passive. She was quite conscious, fully awake to all that was passing +around her; as might be seen by the occasional opening of the eyes. +Madame de Castella, really ill, as these impressionable natures are +apt to be, was in her room, falling from one fainting-fit into +another. Madame de Beaufoy sat with her; and the Signor, a most +devoted husband, made repeated pilgrimages to the chamber. The poor +old lady had taken one look at Adeline, and been led away by her maid, +wringing her hands in shuddering dismay. So that in point of fact the +yellow drawing-room was left very much to the two sympathizing, but +terrified young ladies, the upper women-servants, and Aunt Agnes. As +she lay there, poor child, the angry indignation cast upon her ever +since the previous night calmed down. Better perhaps that they had let +her go to her runaway wedding. It would not have much mattered either +way: a loving bride, or a disappointed, unhappy girl, life for her +could not last very long. How far the sense of shame, so ripe in her +mind for the last few hours, had contributed its quota to the attack, +will never be known. The most indignant of them all had been Agnes de +Beaufoy; and _she_ could not quite recover it yet. + +Adeline turned her head as Rose was passing near her. "Am I dying?" +she asked. + +"Oh, Adeline, you must not speak!" was Rose's startled rejoinder. "The +doctor will be here soon. Dying! of course you are not." + +"Where's papa?" + +"_Pray_ don't attempt to speak! He was here a minute or two ago: he +will be here again." + +"Rose," came the soft whisper, in spite of the injunction, "I think I +am dying. I should like to see Frederick St. John. Only for a minute, +tell him." + +Rose, consulting no one, penned a hasty note to Mr. St. John, her +tears dropping all the time: _she_ also thought death was at hand. It +was written in her own rather wild fashion, but was clear and +peremptory. Louise was called out of the yellow drawing-room and +despatched with it. And the time passed slowly on. + +The most perfect quiet, both of mind and body, was essential for +Adeline; yet there she lay, evidently anxious, inwardly restless, her +eyes seeking the door, expecting the appearance of Mr. St. John. But +he did not come; neither did Louise. Had Rose done well to pen that +note? Adeline was exhausted and silent, but not the less excited. + +In came Louise at last, looking, as usual, fiery hot, her black eyes +round and sparkling. Her proper course would have been to call Rose +from the room; but she stalked direct into the presence of Adeline, +bringing her news. It happened that none of the elders were in the +room at the moment: Signor de Castella had again gone to his wife's +chamber; and Miss de Beaufoy was outside the large entrance-door, +looking in her impatience for signs of the doctor from Odesque. Louise +had made haste to Madame Baret's and back, as desired, and came in at +once, without waiting even to remove her gloves, the only addition +(except the parapluie rouge) necessary to render her home-costume a +walking one. What would an English lady's-maid say to that? In her +hand she bore a packet, or very thick letter, for Adeline, directed +and sealed by Mr. St. John. Adeline followed it with her eyes, as Rose +took it from Louise. + +"Shall I open it?" whispered Rose, bending gently over her. + +Adeline looked assent, and Rose broke the seal, holding it immediately +before her face. It was a blank sheet of paper, without word or +comment, enclosing the letters she had written to him. They fell in a +heap upon her, as she lay. Rose, at home in such matters, understood +it as soon as Adeline, and turned with a frown to Louise. + +"Did Mr. St. John give you this?" + +"Ah, no, mademoiselle. Mr. St. John is gone." + +"Gone!" + +"Gone away to England. Gone for good." + +Rose gathered the letters into the sheet of paper, as if in +abstraction, amusing herself by endeavouring to put together the large +seal she had broken. Truth was, she did not know what to say or do. +Adeline's eyes were closed, but she _heard_--by the heaving bosom and +crimsoned cheeks, contrasting with their previous ghastly paleness. +Louise, like a simpleton, continued in an undertone to Rose, and there +was no one by to check her gossip. + +"He had not been gone three minutes when I got there---- Oh, by the +way, mademoiselle, here's the note you gave me for him. Madame Baret +was changing her cap to bring up the thick letter, for Mr. St. John +had said it was to be taken special care of, and given into +Mademoiselle Adeline's own hands, so she thought she would bring it +herself. She's in a fine way at his going, is mother Baret, for she +says she never saw any one that she liked so much." + +"But what took him off in this sudden manner?" demanded Rose, +forgetful of Adeline in her own eager curiosity. + +"Madame Baret says she'd give her two ears to know," responded Louise. +"She thought something must have happened up here--a dispute, or some +unpleasant matter of that sort. But I told her, No. Something had +occurred here unfortunately, sure enough, but it could have had +nothing to do with Mr. St. John, because he had left the château +previously. She then thought he might have received ill news from +England; though no letters came for him in the morning. But whatever +it might be, he was in an awful passion. He has spoilt the picture." + +"Which picture?" quickly asked Rose. + +Before recording the answer, it may be well to explain that Adeline's +portrait had been finished long ago, and taken to the château. But on +the return of M. de Castella from Paris, he had suggested some +alteration in the background and in the drapery, so it was sent back +to the Lodge. Events had then crowded so fast, one upon another, +coupled with Mr. St. John's two visits to England, that the change was +not at once effected. During the last few days, however, St. John had +been at work, and completed it. Only the previous evening, when he was +secretly expecting to leave with Adeline, he had given orders that it +should be conveyed the next day to Beaufoy. + +"Which picture?" was the impatient demand of Rose. + +"Mademoiselle's likeness that he had been taking himself," answered +Louise. "He went into the painting-room after he got home just now, +and began flinging his things together. Madame Baret heard sounds and +went to look who was there; but she only peeped in at the door, for +she had not changed her night-cap, and there she saw him. There was +some blue paint on a palette at hand, and he dabbed a wet brush in it +and smeared it right across the face. My faith! the way he must have +been in, to destroy his own work. And such a beautiful face as he had +made it!" + +A pause. Rose, in her astonishment, could only stare. She knew +nothing, be it remembered, of the breach between him and Adeline. No +one did know of it. + +"I knew he could be furiously passionate on occasions," was her first +remark. "I told him so one day." + +"It was a shame, Madame Baret said in telling me, to vent his anger +upon _that_," resumed Louise. "So senseless: and quite like an insult +to Mademoiselle Adeline--just as if she had offended him. Of course I +agreed with the Mère Baret that it _was_ a shame, a wicked shame: and +then, if you'll believe me, mademoiselle, she flew out at me for +saying it, and vowed that nobody should speak a word against Mr. St. +John in her hearing. He was of a perfectly golden temper, she went on, +he always behaved like a prince to everybody, and she was sure +something out of common must have occurred to shake him, for he seemed +to be quite beside himself--to know no more what he was doing than a +child." + +Rose glanced at Adeline, whom, perhaps, she suddenly remembered. The +crimson had faded on the wan cheeks; the quivering eyes were closed. +What effort might it be costing her, let us wonder, to lie there and +make no sign? + +"I am sure _I_ don't want to speak against him," continued Louise, in +an injured tone, meant as a reproach for the absent mistress of the +Lodge. "I only chimed in with the Dame Baret for politeness' sake--and +what had taken her, to be so capricious, I can't think: one mood one +minute, another the next. Mr. St. John was a thorough gentleman, +always behaving like one to us servants: and you know, besides, +Mademoiselle Rose, he spoke French like a true angel." + +"Comme un vrai ange," were the maid's words. It may be as well to give +them. Rose nodded. + +"Which is what can't be said of most Englishmen," added Louise. + +"But what has he gone away for so suddenly?" questioned Rose. + +"Nobody knows, mademoiselle. As he was going in, he met Victor--that +lazy fellow Père Baret keeps about the place; _I_ wouldn't--and +ordered a horse to be got ready for him and brought round. Then he +went into the painting-room, where Madame peeped in and saw him, but +didn't show herself on account of her cap. He was in there ever so +long, and then he went up to his chamber. By the time he came out his +anger was over, and he was never more calm or pleasant than when he +called to Dame Baret and gave her the packet for Mademoiselle Adeline, +asking her to oblige him by bringing it up herself. Then he told her +he was going to leave. She says you might have knocked her down with a +whiff of old Baret's pipe. And I don't wonder at it; what with the +unexpected news, and what with the consciousness of her cap, which she +hadn't had time to change. It's not once in six months that Madame +Baret's coiffure is amiss, but they have the sweeps today." + +"Let her cap and the sweeps alone," cried Rose, impatiently. "I wish +you'd go on properly, Louise." + +"Well, mademoiselle, when Dame Baret had recovered the shock a little, +she asked him whether he was going away for long, and when he should +be back. He told her he should never come back; never; but would write +and explain to M. d'Estival. He thanked her for all her attention, and +said she and M. Baret should hear from him. With that he rode off; +giving orders that his clothes and other things should be packed and +sent after him, and leaving a mint of money for all who had waited on +him." + +"And where is he gone?" questioned Rose. "To England?" + +"Mother Baret supposes so, mademoiselle. It's where his things are to +be sent, at any rate. He is riding to Odesque now, so he must be going +to take the train either for Paris or the coast." + +It is impossible to say how much more Louise would have found to +relate, and Rose to listen to, but the clattering hoofs of a horse +were heard outside, and Louise hastened to the window, hoping it might +be the surgeon from Odesque. Hazardous, perhaps, it had been for +Adeline to listen to this: and yet well. As he _had_ gone, it was +better that she should know it; and be, so far, at rest. + +The surgeon from Odesque it proved to be. Ah! how strangely do things +fall out in this world! When the two horsemen had met in the road some +half-hour before, each of them spurring his steed to its fleetest +pace, and had exchanged a passing salutation of courtesy, how little +was Mr. St. John conscious that the surgeon was speeding to her whom +he had quitted in anger, against whom he was even then boiling over +with resentment; speeding to her in her sore need, as she lay a-dying! + +Not dying quite immediately; not that day, perhaps not for some short +weeks; but still dying. Such was the fiat of the surgeon, as whispered +to Miss de Beaufoy; from whom it spread to the awestruck household. +Some of them refused to receive it: M. de Castella for one; Rose for +another. Well, the doctor answered, it was his fatal opinion; but no +one would be more thankful than he to find it a mistaken one; and he +was truly glad that other medical men were telegraphed for; he felt +his responsibility. + +He assisted to carry Adeline upstairs to her chamber. Very gently was +she borne to it: and Rose carried the packet up after her, and put it +away safely in the sight of Adeline. Of course the chief thing was to +keep her perfectly quiet, mentally and bodily, the doctor said. If +further hemorrhage could be prevented and the wound healed, she +might--might go on. He spoke the words in a hesitating manner, as if +himself doubting it: and Rose, who had stolen into the conference, +which was taking place downstairs, said afterwards she should have +liked to gag him. + +Late in the evening, arrived the two doctors from Belport, le Docteur +Dorré and an English physician. They were more reticent than the +surgeon of Odesque had been, not saying that Adeline was in any sort +of danger; not thinking it, so far as could be seen. The Englishman +was old, the Frenchman comparatively young. Adeline was considerably +better then, to all appearance: perhaps they did not really detect +cause for alarm. She lay quite tranquil, smiled at them, and talked a +little; neither did she look very ill, except that she was pale; and +all traces of the sudden malady had been removed. Indeed the wild +commotion of the morning had given place to a very different state of +things. All was tranquil; and Madame de Castella was about again, and +cheerful. + +After the doctors had seen Adeline, they retired to a room alone, +emerging from it after a few minutes' consultation. The chief thing, +as the other one had said, was to keep her still and quiet; no +talking, no excitement. One person alone must be in the room with +her at a time; and that, as they strongly recommended, should be a +sick-nurse. Madame de Castella assented eagerly, hanging, as it were, +upon the very words that issued from their lips. Dr. Dorré spoke of +the Englishwoman who had attended her in the spring: she had struck +him as being one of the best and most efficient nurses he had ever in +his life seen. + +"I'll inquire after her the first thing tomorrow morning," said the +young doctor; "I think I know her address: and I'll send her over." + +They were to be over themselves also on the morrow, to meet the doctor +from Odesque; for _their_ visits could not be frequent. Belport was +too far off to allow of their coming daily. + +"See after Nurse Brayford!" exclaimed Rose, when this item of +intelligence reached her ears after the doctors had departed. "It will +be of no use, dear Madame de Castella. She went away with my sister, +Mrs. Carleton St. John. They are travelling somewhere in Germany. Did +I not tell you Charlotte had taken her?" + +"But has she kept her all this time? The nurse may have returned." + +"She _may_," replied Rose, speaking slowly in her deliberation. "I +don't think she has, though. The last time I heard from London, from +mamma, she said she feared dear Charlotte was being tried sadly, for +that she never could get a letter from her now. Charlotte was always +first and foremost with mamma, the rest of us nothing. It's more than +she was with me, though," added Rose, lifting her nose in the air as +she shook back her golden ringlets. "A domineering thing!" + +"If the little child has got better, the nurse may have been +dismissed," observed Madame de Castella, who now remembered to have +heard the circumstances under which Nurse Brayford had been taken. + +"But I fear he has not got better," answered Rose. "I fear he is +getting worse. Mary Anne said so when she wrote to me. About the nurse +we shall see: I hope, for Adeline's sake, she is back again." + +It should have been mentioned that Signor de Castella had sent an +express to the Baron de la Chasse, to arrest his journey to Beaufoy. +But he came, nevertheless: much concerned, of course. He saw Adeline +for a few minutes in the presence of her mother and aunt. It was on +the very day they were to have been married. He was excessively +shocked at her death-like appearance--to which there's not the least +doubt the sight of himself contributed--but endeavoured to express +many a kind hope of her speedy recovery, hinting that he was an +interested party in it. + +"She is very ill!" he exclaimed to Rose, when they met downstairs, +before his departure. + +"Very," lamented Rose. "And to think those beautiful wedding things, +that were to have been worn today, are shut up out of sight in +drawers and boxes!" + +"Where's that presuming Anglais?" asked the Frenchman. + +"Oh, he's gone back to his own country," replied Rose, carelessly. +"Ages ago, it seem now. I don't think you and he need have quarrelled +over her, Monsieur le Baron." + +He detected her meaning--that Adeline would not live to belong to +either--and he bent his head in sorrow, and stroked his silky yellow +moustache, and began to speak in a feeling, thoughtful manner of her +illness; of the mischief of the spring which had broken out again, +when they had all deemed it cured. _He_ had no idea, and never could +have any, that this had been brought on by the misery and emotion that +were too great to bear. + +Meanwhile Mrs. Brayford had been sought for in vain. She was still +absent from Belport, in attendance on the little heir of Alnwick. A +French nurse came to Beaufoy to occupy her place. A tall, thin, +dark-eyed, quick woman, dressed in black; kind enough, and very +capable; but with a gossiping tongue that rivalled at least that of +Louise. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. +THE SICK CHAMBER. + + +"Draw aside the curtain, Rose," said Adeline de Castella, feebly. "The +sun has passed." + +You can take a look at her as she lies. Some few weeks have passed +since the sad occurence just related, but there is no visible +improvement in her appearance. Her face is wan, thinner than it was +then, and dark circles have formed round her eyes. There had been no +recurrence of the alarming symptoms from the lungs: indeed, the hurt +seemed to have healed itself immediately; but a great deal of fever +had supervened, and this had left her in a sad state of weakness. The +doctors seemed a little puzzled at this condition of fever and its +continuance; some of those around her were not, but knew it for the +result of her unhappy state of mind. That consumption had set its seal +upon her, there was no longer any doubt, but it was thought probable +the disease might linger in its progress. + +Rose and Mary were with her still. Adeline could not bear to hear of +their leaving. "They must spare you to me until the end," she said, +alluding to their friends, and the young ladies seemed quite willing +to accept the position. They were her chief companions; the French +nurse remained, but her office was partly a sinecure, and just now she +was occupied with Madame de Beaufoy, who was confined to her bed with +illness. Signor de Castella was in Paris on business--he always seemed +to have business on hand, but no one could ever quite find out what it +was. Agnes de Beaufoy sat much with her mother. Madame de Castella was +almost as ill as Adeline; grieving, fretting, repining continually. +She paid frequent visits to Adeline's room, but seldom stayed in it +long, for she was apt to suffer her feelings to get ahead, and to +become hysterical. A frequent visitor to it was Father Marc; the most +cheerful, chatty, pleasant of all. He brought her no end of +entertaining anecdotes of the neighbourhood, and sometimes succeeded +in winning a smile from her lips. He never entered with her upon +religious topics, so far as the two young ladies saw or heard; never +appeared to anticipate that the end of life's race was entered upon. +Rose had put aside much of her giddy vanity, and they all loved her. +She was in bitter repentance for her unnecessary and exaggerated +revelations touching Sarah Beauclerc;--_there_, in her knowledge of +that, lay the keenest sting of Adeline's misery. Adeline remained +silent as to her inward life, silent as the grave; but something had +been gathered of it. She had more than once fallen into a sort of +delirium--I don't know any better name for it; partly sleep, partly a +talking and waking dream, and some painful thoughts had been spoken in +it. It always occurred at the dusk of evening, and Adeline herself +seemed unconscious of it when she woke up to reality. You may meet +with such a case yourselves; when you do, suspect the patient's state +of alarming bodily weakness. + +Adeline's former chamber had been changed for one with a southern +aspect. The bed was in a recess, as is customary in the country, or +rather in a smaller room, for there were windows and two doors in it. +A large cheerful chamber, or sitting-room, the chief, the windows +lofty, the fireplace handsome, the little Turkey-carpet mats, +scattered on the polished floor, of bright colours. Adeline's sofa +just now faced the windows; it was light, and could be turned easily +any way on its firm castors; Madame de Castella leaned back in an +easy-chair, nearly as pale and worn as Adeline; Mary Carr was working; +Rose listlessly turned over the leaves of one of the pretty books +lying on the large round table. + +"Draw aside the curtain, Rose," Adeline said. "The sun has passed." + +Rose drew it aside. An hour or so before, the weak, watery sun had +come forth from behind the lowering grey clouds and sent his beams +straight into Adeline's eyes, so they had shut him out. Diminished in +force though the rays were, they were yet too bright for the invalid's +sight. Surely, when you come to think of it, there was a singular +affinity between the weather and Adeline's health and happiness. Cold, +wet, boisterous, and gloomy had it been in the spring, during the time +of her long illness, up to the period, within a few days, of her +arrival at Beaufoy and commencing intimacy with Frederick St. John; +warm, brilliant and beautiful it was all through the months of that +intimacy; but with its abrupt termination, the very day subsequent to +the miserable one of his departure and of Adeline's dangerous +accident, it had abruptly changed, and become cold, wet, dreary again. +Weeks, as you have heard, had elapsed since, and the weather still +wore the same gloomy aspect, in which there seemed no prospect of +amendment on this side winter. A feeling of awe, almost of +superstition, would creep over Mary Carr, as she sat by Adeline's +bedside in the dim evenings, listening to the moaning, sighing wind, +as it swept round the unprotected château and shook off the leaves +from the nearly bare trees on the western side. It sounded so like a +dirge for the dying girl who was passing from them! The watchers would +look up with a shiver, and say how dreary it was, this gloomy weather, +and wish it would change, forgetting that the sweetest summer's day, +the brightest skies, cannot bring joy to a house where joy exists not, +or renew the peace of a heart from which hope has flown. Very fanciful +all this, no doubt, you will say; what has the weather to do with +events in this busy world of ours? Nothing, of course. Still, it had +been a curious year; winter, summer, and now winter again; but neither +spring nor autumn. + +As Rose drew aside the curtain, humming a scrap of a song at the same +time, for she was always gay, and nothing could take it out of her, +Adeline left the sofa where she had been lying, and sat down near the +fire in any easy-chair of white dimity. + +"Mamma," she said, catching sight of Madame de Castella's lifeless, +sickly aspect, "why do you not go out? It is not raining today, and +the fresh air would do you good." + +"Oh, Adeline," sighed the unhappy mother, "nothing will do me good +while I see you as you are." + +"Now, Madame de Castella!" remonstrated Rose. "You persist in taking a +wrong view of things! Adeline is getting better and stronger every +day." + +True, in a degree. But would it last? Perhaps Rose herself, in her +inmost heart, knew that it would not. Madame de Castella rose +abruptly, and quitted the room; and Rose gave a shrug to her pretty +shoulders. There were times, as she privately confided to Mary Carr, +when she could have shaken Madame for her line of conduct. She vented +her anger just now on the pillow behind Adeline's back, knocking it +unmercifully, under the plea of smoothing it to comfort. + +"I'm putting it straight for you, Adeline." + +"No matter, dear Rose. It will do very well Thank you all the same." + +"I wish you'd taste this jelly; it's delicious." + +"But I don't care for it; I don't care to eat," was the apathetic +reply. + +"Shall I read to you?" asked Rose. + +"As you will, dear Rose; it seems all one to me. But thank you very +much." + +Thus had she been all along; thus she continued. Quiet, passive, +grateful for their cares, but showing no interest in any earthly +thing. No tidings whatever had been heard of Mr. St. John since he +left; what quarter of the known world he might be in, whether or not +he was aware of Adeline's state, they could not conjecture. It was +assumed that he was in London; Adeline, for one, never thought of +doubting it. All this while, and not a single remembrance from him! + +Rose went to the table, turned over the books collected there, and +took up a volume of Tennyson. + +"Not that," said Adeline, quickly glancing up with a faint colour. +"Something else." + +No, not that. _He_ had given her the book, and been accustomed to read +it to her. How could she bear to hear it read by another? + +Rose tried again: Béranger. "That won't do," she said. "A pretty laugh +you would have at my French accent!" + +"Your accent is not a bad one, Rose." + +"It may pass in conversation. But to read poetry aloud in any language +but one's own, is---- What's this?" continued Rose, interrupting +herself as she opened another volume; which she as quickly dropped +again. It was Bulwer's "Pilgrims of the Rhine." + +"That will do as well as another," said Adeline. + +"No," shortly answered Rose, avoiding the book with a gesture that was +half a shrug and half a shudder. Adeline stretched out her hand and +drew her near, speaking in a low murmuring tone. + +"You fear to remind me of myself, Rose, in telling of Gertrude. +Indeed, there is no analogy to be traced between the cases," she +added, with a bitter smile, "save in the nature of the disease; and +that we must both die. One might envy _her_ fate." + +"I don't like the book," persisted Rose. + +"I do," said Adeline. "One tale in it I could never be tired of. I +forget its title, but it begins, 'The angels strung their harps in +Heaven, and the----'" + +"I know," interrupted Rose, rapidly turning over the pages. "Here it +is. 'The Soul in Purgatory; or, Love stronger than Death.' It is a +tale of woman's enduring love." + +"_And its reward_," sighed Adeline. "Read it. It is very short." + +Rose began her reading. It was quite impossible to tell whether +Adeline listened or not: she sat silent, in her chair, her hand over +her face; and, when it was over, she remained in the same position, +making no comment, till the nurse came in to give the medicine. + +"I'm not wanted in there just now," said she, with that freedom of +manner which is so characteristic of the dependents in a French +family, but which is never offensive, or even borders on disrespect; +"so I'll sit here a bit." + +"You can wheel the sofa nearer to the fire, nurse," said Adeline. + +It was done, and Adeline lay down upon it. Rose began another tale, +and read till dusk. + +"Shall I stir the fire into a blaze, Adeline, and finish it now; or +wait until candle-light?" + +There came no answer. Mary Carr stole forward and bent over Adeline. +She had fallen asleep. Stay: not sleep; but into one of those +restless, dreamy stupors akin to it. The thought had more than once +crossed them--did that Odesque doctor, who chiefly saw to the +medicine, put laudanum in it, and were these feverish wanderings the +result? The uncertain light of the wood fire played fitfully upon +Adeline's face, revealing its extreme beauty of feature and its +deathly paleness. Rose closed her book; and Mary left Adeline's sofa, +and stood looking through the window on the dreary night. The nurse, +who had dropped into a doze herself, soothed by the monotonous and +incomprehensible tones of the foreign tongue, rose and went downstairs +for some wood. + +Mary Carr had laid her finger with a warning gesture on Rose Darling's +arm, for sounds were heard from Adeline. Turning from the darkened +window where they had been holding a whispered colloquy, they held +their breath to listen. Very distinct were the words in the silence of +the room: + +"Don't say it! don't say it!" murmured Adeline. "I tell you there is +no hope. He has been gone too long: one--two--three--four--do you +think I have not counted the weeks?--Why does he not come?--Why does +he not write?--What's this? My letters? thrust back upon me with scorn +and insult!--What is he whispering to Sarah Beauclerc? Oh, mercy! +mercy!" + +The nurse re-entered the room, her arms laden with wood. By some +mishap she let a log fall to the floor, and the noise aroused Adeline. +Rose ran to the sofa, her eyes full of tears. + +"Oh, Adeline," she sighed, leaning over her, "you should not take it +so heavily to heart. If things were at an end between you and Mr. St. +John, there was something noble rather than the contrary in his +returning you your letters. Indeed, we have always seen him honourable +in all he does. Another might have kept them--have boasted of +them--have shown them to the world. I only wish," broke off Rose, +going from Adeline's affairs to her own, in the most unceremonious +way, "that I could get back all the love-letters I have written! What +a heap there'd be of them!" + +"What do you mean?" demanded Adeline, sitting up on the sofa in her +alarm. "Have I been saying anything in my sleep?" + +"Not much--only a few words," said Mary Carr, stepping forward and +speaking in a calm, soothing tone, a very contrast to Rose's excited +one. "But we can see how it is about Mr. St. John, Adeline. He left in +ill-feeling, and the inward grief is killing you by inches. If your +mind were at rest, time might restore you to health; but, as it is, +you are giving yourself no chance of life." + +"There is no chance for me," she answered; "you know it. If I were +happy as I once was, as I once thought I should be; if I were even +married to Mr. St. John, there would be no chance of prolonged life +for me; none." + +Mary Carr did know it; but she strove to soothe her still. + +"I might have expected all that has happened to me," smiled Adeline, +trying to turn the subject to a jest, the first approach to voluntary +smile or jest they had marked on her lips. "Do you remember your +words, Rose, on that notable first of January, my ball-night--that +some ill-fate was inevitably in store for me?" + +"Rubbish!" said Rose. "I was an idiot, and a double idiot: and I don't +remember it." + +But Rose did remember it, all too vividly. She remembered how Adeline +had laughed in ridicule, had spurned her words, then; in her +summer-tide of pride and beauty. It was winter with her now! + +There could be no further erroneous opinions on the point. Physically, +she was dying of consumption, as a matter of course, and as the +doctors said: but was she not just as much dying of a broken heart? +The cruel pain was ever torturing her: though her lungs had been +strong and healthy, it might have worked its work. + +I hardly know how to continue this portion of the history, and feel a +great temptation to make a leap at once to its close. Who cares to +read of the daily life of a sick-chamber? There is so little variation +in it: there was so little in hers. Adeline better or worse; the +visits of the doctors, and their opinions; a change in her medicine, +pills for mixture, or mixture for pills; and there you have about the +whole history. Which medicine, by the way, was ordered by the English +physician. A French one never gives any. He would not prescribe one +dose, where the English would choke you with five hundred. It is true. +Pills, powders, mixture; mixture, powders, pills: five hundred at the +very least, where a Frenchman would give none. Warm baths and fasting +in abundance they order, but no medicine. They are uncommonly free +with the lancet, however; with leeches; with anything else that draws +blood. The first year Eleanor Seymour (if you have not forgotten her) +was at school at Madame de Nino's, an illness broke out amidst the +pupils, and the school medical attendant was sent for. It was this +very Dr. Dorré, now attending Adeline de Castella. Five or six of the +younger girls seemed heavy and feverish, and there were signs of an +eruption on the skin. Monsieur le docteur thought it would turn out to +be measles or scarlatina, he could not yet pronounce which; and he +ordered them to bed and to take a few quarts of eau sucrée: he then +sent for the rest of the pupils one by one, and bled them all +round.[1] "A simple measure of precaution," he said to Madame. + +------------------------------- + +[1] A fact, in all its details. + +------------------------------- + +If this history of the sick-chamber is to be continued, we must borrow +some extracts from the diary of Mary Carr. A good thing she kept one: +otherwise there would have been little record of this earlier period +in the closing scenes of life. + +Meanwhile it may be as well to mention that a sort of wild wish--in +its fervour it could be called little else--had taken hold of Adeline: +she wanted to return to Belport. Every one at first opposed it. The +cold would be greater in the seaport town than it was at Beaufoy; and +the journey might do her harm. There appeared to be only one +consideration in its favour; but that was a strong one: they would be +on the spot with the doctors. She seemed to get better and stronger. +Signor de Castella came home and was astonished at the improvement. +Perhaps it was what he had not looked for. + + +Extract From The Diary Of Mary Carr. + + +_Nov. 3rd_.--What can make her so anxious to return to Belport? She is +growing feverish about it, and the Signor and Madame see that she is. +Rose has been offering to bet me a pair of gloves that it will end in +our going. I hope it will. This house seems to be dedicated to +illness. Madame de Beaufoy does not improve, and one of the servants +has taken gastric fever. + +Belport, Belport! It is the one wish of her existence; the theme of +her daily prayer. Has she an idea that she may there be in the way of +hearing of _him_, perhaps of seeing him? Or is it that she would bid +adieu to this place, hoping to bid adieu at the same time to its +remembrances? + +She is so much better! She comes downstairs now, dressed as she used +to be, except the hair. It is braided under a pretty little lace cap: +the French are such people for keeping the head warm! Often on her +shoulders she wears a light cashmere shawl: the one she put on the +night when she attempted to go away with Mr. St. John. "I wonder if +she thinks of it?" I said yesterday to Rose. "What a donkey you are!" +was the complimentary reply: "as if she did not think of that +miserable night and its mishaps continually!" + +We now know that Mr. St. John is in London. In looking over the +_Times_--which comes regularly to Madame de Beaufoy--I saw his name +amidst a host of others, as having attended a public meeting: +Frederick St. John, Esq., of Castle Wafer. I put the paper into +Adeline's hand, pointing to the list, and then quitted the room. On my +return to it the journal was lying on the table, and her face was +buried amidst the cushions of the armchair. + +Is this improvement to turn out a deceitful one? It might not, but for +the ever-restless, agitated mind. A calm without, a torrent within! +The weakness is no longer apparent; the cough is nearly gone. But she +is inert and indifferent as ever; buried within herself. This +apparently languid apathy, this total indifference to life and its +daily concerns, is set down by her friends to bodily weakness; and so +they let it remain unchecked and unaroused, and she indulges, +unmolested, in all the bitter feelings of a breaking heart. + +6_th_.--These last few fine days have afforded the pretext for +complying with Adeline's wish, and here we are, once more, at Belport, +she wonderfully improved. Still better, still better! for how long? +Rose has resumed her wild gaiety of spirits, and says she will sing a +_Te Deum_ for having left the dreary old château and its ghosts behind +us. + +A bed has been placed on the first-floor for Adeline, in the back +drawing-room. This is better; for she can now reach the front +drawing-room, where we sit, without being exposed to the cold air of +the staircase. And should she be confined to her room at the last, as +may be expected, it will be more convenient for the servants; and +indeed in all respects. + +7_th_.--Madame de Nino called today, bringing two of the elder girls. +Adeline asked them innumerable questions about the school, and seemed +really awakened to interest. Many other friends have also called; +compared with the gloomy solitude of the château, each day since our +arrival has been like a levee. The doctors apparently see no +impropriety in this, for they don't forbid it. _I_ think Adeline is +better for it: she has not the leisure to brood so entirely over the +past. She is still silent on the subject of her misery, never hinting +at it. Mr. St. John's name is not mentioned by any one, and the scenes +and events of the last six months might be a dream, for all the +allusion ever made to them. Never was she so beautiful as she is now; +delicate and fragile of course, but that is a great charm in woman's +loveliness. Her features are more than ever conspicuous for their +exquisite contour, her soft brown eyes are of a sweeter sadness, her +cheeks glow with a transparent rose colour. Visitors look at her with +astonishment, almost question the fact of her late dangerous illness, +and say she is getting well. But there is no exertion: listless and +inanimate she sits, or lies, her trembling, fevered hands holding one +or other of the English journals--looking in them for a name that she +never finds. + +Yesterday Rose was reading to her in a volume of Shelley, when a +letter from England was brought in, its superscription in the +handwriting of Mrs. Darling. Adeline looked up, eager and flushed, +signing to Rose to open it. Madame de Castella has stared in her +ladylike way at this betrayed emotion whenever letters come for Rose. +_We_ understand it: and Rose always reads them to her. The Darlings +are in London, know people that Mr. St. John knows, and Adeline thinks +there may be a chance that his name will be mentioned in these +letters. "The letter will keep," said Rose, glancing cursorily into +it; and she laid it down and resumed her book. + + + "I love, but I believe in love no more, + I feel desire, but hope not. Oh, from Sleep + Most vainly must my weary brain implore + Its long-lost flattery now: I wake to weep, + And sit, the long day, gnawing through the core + Of my bitter heart----" + + +I looked up at her, involuntarily, it was so applicable; Rose also +made a momentary stop, and her glance wandered in the same direction. +Adeline's eyes met ours. It was one of those awkward moments that will +happen to all; and the flush on Adeline's cheek deepened to crimson. +It was very applicable: + + + "I wake to weep, + And sit, the long day, gnawing through the core + Of my bitter heart." + + +Alas! alas! + +Rose's letter contained ill news of the Darling family. Her quick +sight saw what it was, and she hastened to put the letter up, not +caring to speak of it at once to Adeline. Really she is growing more +cautious than she used to be! That poor little child, the heir, in +whose life was bound up so much of worldly prosperity, is dead: he +died more than a week ago. Rose is in a state of what she is pleased +to call "dumps." Firstly, for the child's own sake: she never saw him +but once, this summer at Belport, but took a real liking for the +little fellow; secondly, because Rose has orders to put herself into +mourning. If Rose hates one thing in this world more than another, it +is a black bonnet. + +Adeline was standing by the fire today when the English physician +came in. He was struck with the improvement in her looks. "You are +cheating us all," he said. "We shall have a wedding yet." + +"Or a funeral, doctor," quietly answered Adeline. + +"I speak as I think," he seriously said. "I do believe that now there +is great hope of your recovery. If we could but get you to the South!" + +"Adeline," I exclaimed, as the physician went out, and she and I were +alone, "you heard what he said. Those words were worth a king's +ransom." + +"They were not worth a serfs," was her reply. "I appreciate his +motives. He imagines that the grave must of necessity be a bitter and +terrible prospect, and is willing to cheer me with hopes, whether they +prove true or false: as all doctors do; it is in their trade. But he +knows perfectly well that I must die." + +"How calmly you speak! One would think you _coveted_ the approach of +death!" + +"Well--I don't know that I regret it." + +"Has life no longer a charm for you? Oh, that you had never met +Frederick St. John!" + +"Don't say so! He came to me in mercy." + +A burst of tears succeeded to the words, startling me nearly out of my +senses. + +"There! that's your fault," she cried, with a wretched attempt at +gaiety. "In talking of regret, you made me think of my dear papa and +mamma. Their grief will be dreadful." + +"Oh, Adeline, _don't_ try to turn it off in this way," I stammered, +not knowing what to say, and horribly vexed with myself. "What do you +mean--that he came to you in mercy with this wretchedness upon you, +the crushed spirit, the breaking heart? I see what you go through day +by day, night by night. Is there any cessation to the pain? Is it not +as one never-ending anguish?" + +Adeline was strangely excited; her eyes glistening, her cheeks a +burning crimson, and her white, fragile, feverish hands fastening upon +mine. + +"It is all you say," she whispered. "And now he is with another!" + +"I can understand the misery _that_ thought brings." + +"No, you can't. If my heart were laid bare before you, and you saw the +wretchedness there as it really is, it would appear to you all as the +mania of one insane; and to him as to the rest." + +"And yet you say this has come to you in mercy!" + +"It has--it has. I see it all now. How else should I have been +reconciled to die? The germs of consumption must have been in me from +the first," she concluded, after a pause. "You schoolgirls used to +tell me I inherited all the English characteristics; and consumption, +I suppose, made one of them." + +9_th_.--Miss de Beauroy is here for a day or two, and we had a quiet +little soirée yesterday evening. Aunt Agnes, in the plentitude of her +delight at the improvement visible in Adeline, limped down, poor lady, +in a splendid canary-coloured silk gown, all standing on end with +richness. Who should come in unexpectedly after tea, but Monsieur le +Comte le Coq de Monty! (I do love, after the fashion of the good Vicar +of Wakefield, to give that whole name--_I_, not Miss Carr). Business +with the Sous-Préfet brought him to Belport. He inquired very _mal à +propos_, whether we had recently seen or heard of Mr. St. John; and +while we were opening our mouths, deliberating what to say, Rose, +always apt and ready, took upon herself evasively to answer that he +was in England, at Castle Wafer. Adeline's face was turned away, but +the rest of the family looked glum enough. De Monty, very +unconsciously, but not the less out of time and tune, entered into a +flowery oration in praise of Mr. St. John, saying he was the most +attractive man he ever came in contact with; which, considering St. +John is an Englishman, and de Monty French, was very great praise +indeed. + +She looked so lovely this morning, as she sat in the great chair, that +I could not forbear an exclamation. But it is all the same to her, +admiration and indifference; nothing arouses her from that dreamy +apathy. + +"Ours is a handsome family," she answered. "See how good-looking papa +is! I have inherited his features." + +Not the slightest sign of gratified vanity as she spoke. All _that_ +had passed away with Frederick St. John. + +That Signor de Castella was excessively handsome, I did not deny; but +she was much more so. + +"The complexion makes a difference," said Adeline, in answer. "Papa is +pale; sallow you may term it, and in complexion I am like mamma. She +owes hers, no doubt, to her English origin. You never saw a +Frenchwoman with that marvellous complexion, at once brilliant and +delicate." + +I marvelled at her wondrous indifference. "You were formerly +sufficiently conscious of your beauty, Adeline; you seem strangely +callous to it now." + +"I have outlived many feelings that were once strong within me. Vanity +now for _me!_" + +"Outlived? It is a remarkable term for one of your age." + +"It is appropriate," she rejoined, quickly. "In the last few months I +have aged years." + +"Can this be?" + +"You have read of hair turning grey in a single night," she whispered; +"it was thus with my feelings. _They_ became grey. I was in a dream so +blissful that the earth to me was as one universal paradise; and I +awoke to reality. That awaking added the age of a whole life to my +heart." + +"I cannot understand this," I said. And I really can't. + +"I hope you never will. Self-experience alone could enlighten you, +nothing else; not all the books and arguments in the world." + +"You allude to the time when Mr. St. John went away in anger." + +"Not so," she murmured, scarcely above her breath. "When I learnt that +he loved another." + +"I think it is fallacy, that idea of yours, Adeline," I said, +determined to dispute it for her own sake. "How could he have cared +for Sarah Beauclerc and for you at the same time? He could not love +you both." + +"No, he could not," she said, a vivid, painful flush rising to her +cheeks. "But he knew her first, and he is with her now. Can you draw +no deduction?" + +"We don't know where he is," I said. "Was your sister good-looking, +Adeline?" + +"Maria was beautiful," she replied. "We were much alike, resembling +papa in feature, and mamma in figure and complexion." + +"And she also died of consumption. What an insidious disease it is! +How it seems to cling to particular families!" + +"What is running in your head now, Mary? Maria died of scarlet fever. +She was delicate as a child, and I believe they feared she might +become consumptive. I don't know what grounds they had to judge by: +perhaps little other than her fragile loveliness." + +"If consumption is fond of attacking great beauties, perhaps Rose will +go off in one." + +"Rose!" answered Adeline--and there was a smile on her lip--"if Rose +goes off in anything, it will be in a coach-and-four with white +favours." + +And so the days pass on; Adeline, I fear, not really better. To look +at her, she is well--well, and very lovely; but so she was before. If +they could but get her to the South! But with this winter weather it +is impossible: the doctors say she would die on the road. If they had +but taken advantage, while they might have done it, of the glorious +summer weather! If!--if!--if! These "ifs" follow too many of us +through life; as they may henceforth follow the Signor and Madame de +Castella. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. +THE LITTLE CHILD GONE. + + +You have not failed to notice the one item of news in Miss Carr's +diary--the death of a little heir--or to recognize it for the young +heir of Alnwick. + +Since quitting Belport, Mrs. Carleton St. John had pursued the same +course of restless motion until within two or three weeks of the final +close. Whether she would have arrested her wandering steps then of her +own accord, must be a question, but the sick-nurse, Mrs. Brayford, +interfered. "You are taking away every chance for his life, madam," +she said, one day. "If you persist in dragging the child about, I must +leave you, for I cannot stay to see it. It will surely prove fatal to +him before his time." + +A sharp cry escaped from Mrs. St. John as she listened. The words +seemed to tear the flimsy make-believe veil from her eyes: the end was +very near: and who knows how long she had felt the conviction? They +had halted this time at Ypres, a city of Belgium, or West Flanders, +famous for its manufactures of cloths and serges. Handsome apartments +were hastily procured, and George was moved into them. Not very ill +yet did the child appear; only so terribly worn and weak. Mrs. St. +John's anguish, who shall tell of it? She loved this child, as you +have seen, with a fierce, jealous love. He was the only being in the +world who had filled every crevice of her proud and impassioned heart. +It was for his sake she had hated Benja; it was by Benja's death--and +she alone knew whether she had in any shape contributed to that +death, or whether she was wholly innocent--that he had benefited. +That some dread was upon her, apart from the child's state, was +evident--clinging to her like a nightmare. + +The disease took a suddenly decisive form the second day after their +settling down at Ypres, telling of danger, speaking palpably of the +end. He could not have been moved from Ypres now, had it been ever so +much wished for. Mrs. St. John called in, one after another, the chief +doctors of the town; she summoned over at a great expense two +physicians from London; she sent an imperative mandate to Mr. Pym; and +not one of them saw the slightest chance of saving the boy's life. She +watched his fair face grow paler; his feverish limbs waste and become +weaker. She never shed a tear. For days together she would be almost +unnaturally calm; but once or twice a burst of anguish had broken from +her, fearful in itself, painful to witness. One of these paroxysms was +yielded to in the presence of the child. Yielded to? Poor thing! +perhaps she could not help it! George was frightened almost to death. +She flung herself about the large old foreign room as one insane, +tearing her hair, and calling upon the child to live--to live. + +"Mamma, don't, don't!" panted the little lad, in his terror. "Don't be +so sorry for me! I am going to heaven, to be with Benja." + +At his first cry she had stopped and fallen on her knees beside him. +Up again now; up again at the words, and darting about as if possessed +by a demon, her hands to her temples. + +"Oh, mamma, don't frighten me," shrieked the child. "I shall be glad +to go to Benja." + +Cease, Georgy, cease! for every innocent word that you utter seems but +renewed torture to your poor mother. Look at her, as she sinks down +there on the floor, and groans aloud in her sharp agony. + +It was on the day of this outbreak, an hour or two after it, that Mr. +Pym arrived. The good man, utterly innocent of French, and not +accustomed to foreign travel--or indeed to much travelling of any +sort, for he was quite a fixture at Alnwick--had contrived to reach +Ypres some two days later than he should have done; having been taken +off, perplexity alone knew whither. In the first place, he had called +the town "Wypers"--which was not the surest way of getting to Ypres. +However, here he was at last, a little ruffled certainly, and confused +in mind, but on the whole thankful that he was found, and not lost for +good. + +George was lying on some pillows when the surgeon entered; a very wan, +white, feeble George indeed--a skeleton of a George. But he held out +his little transparent hand, with a glad smile of welcome at the +home-face. + +"I've not forgotten you!" he panted, his poor breath very short and +laboured now. "Mamma said you were coming; she thought you'd come +yesterday." + +"Ay, so did I. But I--lost my way, Georgy." + +Mr. Pym drew a chair close to the boy, and sat looking at him. Perhaps +he was thinking that in all his practice he had rarely seen a child's +frame so completely worn. But a few days of life were left in it; +perhaps not that. The blue eyes, large and lustrous, were cast up at +the surgeon's face; the hot fragile hand lay passively in the strong +firm palm. + +"Did you see Benja's pony?" + +"Benja's pony!" mechanically repeated the doctor, whose thoughts were +far away from ponies. "I think it is still in the stable at Alnwick." + +"I was to ride it when I went home. Prance said so. Grandmamma said +so. I wanted to go home to ride it; and to see Brave; but I'm not +going now." + +"Not just yet," said the surgeon. "You are not strong enough, are you, +Georgy? How is mamma?" + +"I'll tell Mrs. St. John that you are here, sir!" interposed a +respectable-looking woman, rising from a chair at the other end of the +large room. + +It startled Mr. Pym. He had not observed that any one was present. She +went out and closed the door. + +"Who was that, George?" + +"It's Mrs. Brayford!" + +"Oh, ay; Nurse Brayford. I heard of her from Mrs. Darling." + +"Mamma won't let her be called nurse. She said I did not want a nurse. +We call her Brayford. Have you seen Benja?" continued the lad, +speaking better, now that the excitement arising from the doctor's +entrance had subsided; but with the last words his voice insensibly +dropped to a low tone. + +"Seen Benja!" echoed Mr. Pym, in his surprise. "Do you mean Benja's +tomb? It is a very nice one: on rather too large a scale, though, for +my taste, considering his age." + +"No," said George; "I mean Benja." + +"Why, child, how could I see Benja? He is gone away from our eyes; he +is safe in heaven." + +"Mamma sees him." + +"Oh no, she does not," said Mr. Pym, after a slight pause. + +"But she does," persisted Georgy. "She sees him in the night, and she +lays hold of me and hides her face. She sees the lighted church; it +blazes up sometimes." + +There was a curious look of speculation in Mr. Pym's eyes as he gazed +at the unconscious speaker. "Mamma dreams," he said; "as we all do. Do +you remember my old horse Bob, Georgy? Well, he died this summer, poor +fellow, of old age. I dream of him some nights, Georgy; I think he's +carrying me along the road at a sharp trot." + +Georgy's imaginative young mind, quickened by bodily weakness, took +hold of the words with interest. "Do you see his saddle and bridle, +Mr. Pym?" + +"His saddle, and bridle, and stirrups, and all; and his old mane and +tail. They had grown so grey, Georgy. He was a faithful, hard-working +servant to me: I shall never have his like again." + +"Have you got another horse? Is his name Bob?" + +"I have another, and his name's Jack. He's not a second Bob, Georgy. +When he has to stand before people's doors in my gig, he gets +impatient and begins to dance. One day when I was on him, he tried to +throw me, and we had a fight for the mastery: another day, when I +wanted him to turn down Bell-yard, he wished to walk into the +brush-shop, and we had another fight." + +Georgy laughed, with all the little strength left in him. "I wouldn't +keep him. Benja's pony never did all that." + +"Well, you see, Georgy, I am trying to train him into better ways; +that's why I keep him. But he's a naughty Jack." + +"Why shouldn't you have Benja's pony? I'm sure mamma would give it +you: she says she doesn't care what becomes of anything left at +Alnwick. It was for me; but I'm not going back now; I'm going to +heaven." + +"Ah, my little generous lad, Benja's pony would not carry me; I'm +heavier than you and Benja. And what about the French tongue, Georgy? +Are you picking it up?" + +"It's not French they talk here," said Georgy; "it's Flemish. We have +two Flemish servants, and you should hear them jabbering." + +Mr. Pym stroked back the child's flaxen hair: to his touch it felt +damp and dead. In mind, in speech, he seemed to have advanced quite +three years, though it was not yet a twelvemonth since he quitted +Alnwick. + +The door opened, and Mrs. St. John came into the room. Not the +anguished excited woman who had gone into that insane paroxysm an hour +or two before; but a cold high-bred gentlewoman, whose calm exterior +and apparently impassive feelings were entirely under self-control. +Her dark hair, luxuriant as ever, was elaborately dressed, and her +black silk gown was of rich material and the most fashionable make. + +"I have been expecting you these two days," she said as she advanced. +"I thought this morning you must have given up all intention of +coming, and I looked for a letter instead." + +"Ah," said Mr. Pym, holding out his hand to her, "I got lost, as I +have been telling Georgy. Never was abroad before in my life: never +got puzzled by any language but once, and that was in Wales." + +She heard nothing in the sentence except the one word, "Georgy." + +"How do you think he is looking, Mr. Pym?" + +"Well--there might be more flesh upon his bones," was all the surgeon +answered, his tone bordering upon jocularity rather than dismay. +Doubtless he knew what he was about. + +"I thought, if any one could do him good, it was you," said Mrs. St. +John. "The doctors here say they cannot; the physicians I had over +from London said they could not, and went back again: and then I sent +for you." + +"Ah, yes," answered Mr. Pym, in an unmeaning tone. "I'm glad to see my +little friend again. Georgy and I always got on well together, except +on the score of physic. Do you remember those powders, Georgy, that +you and I used to have a battle over?" + +"Don't I!" answered Georgy. "But you won--you made me take them." + +The surgeon laughed. + +"Can you give him some powders now?" asked Mrs. St. John; and there +was nothing of eagerness in her voice and manner, only in her +glittering eyes. + +"I'm not sure that it is exactly powders he requires now," was the +answer, spoken in evasion. "We'll see." + +Mrs. St. John walked to the distant window and stood there. For a +moment her face was pressed against its cold glass, as one whose brow +is in pain; the next, she stood up--tall, haughty, commanding; not a +symptom of care upon her handsome face, not a shade of sorrow in her +resolute eye. It is very probable that this enforced self-control, +persisted in as long as Mr. Pym was at Ypres, cost her more than even +he dreamt of. + +Turning her head, she beckoned to the surgeon. Mr. Pym, waiting only +to cover George with the silken coverlet, for the boy had settled down +on his pillow exhausted, and seemed inclined to sleep, approached her. +The house on this side faced the green fields; there was no noise, no +bustle; all that was on the other side. A quaint old Flemish tower and +clock, from which the hands were gone, stared them in the face at a +field's distance: the Flemish cook had tried to make Prance understand +that it was about to be taken down, when that fastidious lady's-maid +protested against its ugliness. + +"I have sent for you for two purposes, Mr. Pym," began Mrs. St. John, +taking a seat, and motioning the surgeon to another, both of them +beyond the reach of George's ears. "The medical men I have called in +to him, say, or intimate, that he cannot live; they left one by one, +all saying it. The two who attend him regularly were here this +morning. I saw them go out whispering, and I know _they_ were saying +it. I have sent for you to confirm or dispute this: you know what is +the constitution of the St. Johns, and are acquainted with his. Must +George die?" + +Not a sign of emotion was there about her. _Could_ this be the same +woman whose excitement for months had been a world's wonder, whose +anguish, when uncontrolled, had been a terror to her servants? She sat +with an impassive face, her tones measured, her voice cold and calm. +One very small sign of restlessness there was, and it lay in her +fingers. A thin cambric handkerchief was between them, and she was +stealthily pulling at one of its corners: when the interview was over, +the fine texture of threads had given way, leaving a broad hole there. + +Mr. Pym knew that the child must die: it had required but one moment's +glance to see that the angel of death was already on the wing, but to +say this to Mrs. St. John might be neither kind nor expedient. He was +beginning some evasive reply, when she stopped him peremptorily. + +"I sent for you to know the truth, and you must tell it me. Must +George die?" + +That she was in no mood to be trifled with, the surgeon saw. To +attempt it might not be wise. Besides, the signs on George's face were +such this day, that she must see what the truth was as clearly as he +saw it. + +"I think him very ill, Mrs. St. John. He is in danger." + +"That is not a decisive answer yet. _Can't_ you give me one?--you have +come far enough to do it. Will he die?" + +"I fear he will." + +"He has gone too far to recover? He will shortly----" + +A momentary pause, but she recovered instantly. "A few hours will see +the end?" + +"I do not say that. A few days will no doubt see it." + +Mrs. St. John looked across at the handless clock, as if asking why it +did not go on. The surgeon glanced at her face, and was thankful for +its composure. She resumed: + +"Then the other motive with which I sent for you need scarcely be +entered upon. It was, that you, who have watched him from his birth, +might perhaps suggest some cure that the others could not." + +"Some mode of treatment, I dare say you mean, Mrs. St. John. No, I +fear nothing would have been effectual. I could not save his father; +there is no probability that I could have saved him." + +"Why is it that the St. Johns of Alnwick die in this way?" she +returned, her voice taking a passionate tone. + +"Nay," returned Mr. Pym, soothingly, "none may question the will of +God. It is not given to us always to discern causes: we see here +through a glass darkly. Of one thing we may ever rest assured, Mrs. +St. John--that at the Great Final clearance we shall see how merciful +God has been, how all happened for the best." + +"Is he dying of the same wasting disease that his father died of?" she +resumed after a pause. "Or of--of--of what he took the evening of the +birthday dinner?" + +"What did he take the evening of the birthday dinner?" returned Mr. +Pym, asking the question in surprise. "He took nothing then, that I +know of." + +"He took a fright--if nothing else. _I_ have never understood what it +was that ailed him." + +"Pooh! A momentary childish fright, and a fit of indigestion," said +the surgeon, lightly. "They are not things to injure a boy +permanently." + +"He has never been well since," she said, in low tones. "Never for an +hour." + +"The disease must have been stealing upon him then, I suppose, and the +little derangement to the system that night brought out its first +symptoms," observed Mr. Pym. "Who knows but he might have caught it +from his father during the latter's illness?" + +"You think, then, that nothing could have saved him?" + +"I think it could not. Where there is a strong tendency to hereditary +disease, it is sure to show itself." + +"And--I have not taken him about too much? It has not injured him?" + +"I hope not," cheerfully replied Mr. Pym. Where was the use of his +saying it had, whatever his opinion might be? + +She had her finger right up through the hole in the handkerchief now, +and was looking at it--at the finger, not the hole. Mr. Pym watched +every turn of her features, seeming to keep his eyes quite the other +way. + +"What right had George St. John to marry?" she suddenly cried. "If +people know themselves liable to any disease that cuts off life, they +should keep single; and so let the curse die out." + +"Ay, if people would! Some have married who had a less right to do so +than George St. John." + +The remark seemed to have escaped him unwittingly. Mrs. St. John +turned her eyes upon him, and he hastened to resume: + +"No blame could attach to your husband for marrying, Mrs. St. John. +When he did so, he was, to all appearance, a hale, healthy man." + +"He might have suspected that the waste would come upon him. It had +killed the St. Johns of Alnwick who had gone before him." + +"It had killed one or two of them. But how was George St. John to know +that it would attack him? He might have inherited his mother's +constitution: hers was a sound one." + +"And why--and why--could not Georgy inherit mine?" + +The pauses were evidently made to recall calmness, to subdue the +rebellious breath, which was shortening. A very peculiar expression +momentarily crossed the surgeon's face. + +"All is for the best, Mrs. St. John. _Rely upon it_." + +A little feeble voice was calling out for mamma, and Mr. Pym hastily +quitted his seat at the sound. Any one might have said he was glad of +the interruption. The child's sweet blue eyes were raised as the +surgeon bent over him, and his wan lips parted with a smile. + +"Best as it is; oh, thank God, best as it is!" he murmured to himself, +as he gently drew the once pretty curls from the white and wasted +brow, and suffered his hand to rest there. "A short time, and +then--one of God's angels. _Here_, had he lived--better not think of +it. All's for the best." + +The surgeon remained twenty-four hours at Ypres, and then took his +departure. Not once, during all that time, was Mrs. St. John off her +guard, or did she lose her self-possession. + +The hour came for the child to die, and he was laid in his little +grave in Belgium. For a day or two, Mrs. St. John was almost +unnaturally calm, but the second night, at midnight, her cries of +despair aroused the house, and a violent scene came on. Prance shut +herself up in the room with her, and silence at length supervened. So +far as Mrs. Brayford could make out--but that was not very much, +through Prance's jealous care--the unhappy lady laboured under some +perpetual terror--fancying she saw a vision of Benja coming towards +her with a lighted church. These paroxysms occurred almost nightly: +and Mrs. St. John grew into a terribly nervous state from the very +dread of them. She sometimes drank a quantity of brandy, to the dismay +of Prance: not, poor thing, from love of it, but as an opiate. + +What would be her career now? It would seem that the old restlessness, +the hurrying about from place to place, would form a feature in it. No +sooner were the child's remains removed from her sight, than the +eagerness for change came on. It had been thought by all around her +that George would have been taken to Alnwick, to be interred with his +forefathers, but it had not pleased Mrs. St. John to give orders to +that effect. Indeed, she gave no orders at all; and but for Prance, +the tidings had not been conveyed even to Mrs. Darling. The blow +fallen, all else in the world seemed a blank to the bereaved mother. +Apart from the child's personal loss, his death took from her state +and station; and she was not one to disregard those benefits. That the +boy had been more precious to her than heaven, was unhappily too true; +and all else had died with him. If she had indeed any sin upon her +conscience connected with that fatal night, what terrible retribution +must now have been hers. Were Benja living she would still be in the +enjoyment of wealth, pride, power; would still be reigning at the once +much-coveted Hall of Alnwick, its sole mistress. With the death of the +children, all had gone from her. No human care or skill could have +saved the life of her own son; but Benja?--Heaven did not call _him_. + +It seemed that the ill-fated boy's image was rarely absent from her. +Not the burning figure, flying about and screaming (as there could be +no reasonable doubt he did fly about and scream), but the happy child, +marching to and fro in the room, all pleased with his pretty toy, the +lighted church. After George's death, when grief was telling upon her +system and calling forth all of nervousness inherent in it, she hardly +dared to be alone in the dark, lest the sight should appear to her; +she dreaded the waking up at night, and Prance's bed was removed into +her room. A little time to renew her strength of body, and these +nervous fancies would subside; but meanwhile there was one great +comprehensive dread upon her--the anniversary of the fatal day, the +10th of November,--St. Martin's Eve. It was close at hand,--the +intervening hours were slipping past with giant strides; and she asked +herself how she should support its remembrances. "Oh, that he had +lived! that he were at my side now! that I could give to him the love +I did not give him in life!" she murmured, alluding to poor Benja. + +From Ypres she hastened away to Lille, and there spent a day or two; +but she thought she would go back to England. That renowned saint's +vigil was dawning now, for this was the ninth. Should she spend the +tenth in travelling?--or remain where she was, at rest, until the +eleventh? _At rest!_--while this state of mind was upon her? It were +mockery to call it so. Rather let her whirl over the earth night and +day, as the fierce raven whirled over the waters on being set loose +from the Ark; but not again let her hope for rest! + +The tenth day came in, and she was to all appearance calm. But a fit +of restlessness came upon her in the course of the morning, and she +gave orders to depart at once for a certain town on the coast--a town +belonging to France now, but whose population still cling to their +Flemish tongue. A steamer was about to leave the port of this town for +London that night, and the sudden idea had taken her that she would go +by it--to the intense indignation of Prance, who had never in all her +life heard of civilized beings crossing the Channel except by the +short passage. + +They quitted Lille, and arrived at the town about four in the +afternoon, putting up at the large hotel. Mrs. Brayford was still in +her train: her services had been useful during the recent excited +state of Mrs. St. John; but she was not to attend her to England, and +here they would part company. + +"Will Madame dine in her salon, or at the table-d'hôte?" inquired the +head-waiter of the man-servant, in sufficiently plain English. + +"At the table-d'hôte, no doubt," was the man's reply, speaking in +accordance with his own opinion. "Madame has lost her two children, +and is in low spirits, not caring to be much alone. Today is the +anniversary of the eldest's death." + +"Tiens!" returned the waiter. "Today is the eve of St. Martin. All +the children in the town will be gay tonight." + +"Yes, it's the eve of St. Martin," assented the servant, paying no +attention to the other remark, and not in the least understanding it. + +The domestic proved correct in his surmises. At five o'clock, when +the bell rang for table-d'hôte, Mrs. Carleton St. John entered the +dining-room. Very few were present; all gentlemen, except herself, and +mostly pensionnaires; the hotels on the coast are empty at that +season. The dinner was excellent, but it did not last long; and the +gentlemen, one by one, folded their large serviettes, and quitted the +room. + +She was seated facing the mantelpiece, its clock in front of her. The +hands were approaching six--the very hour when, twelve months before, +while she sat in her dining-room at Alnwick, Benja was on fire with +none near to rescue him. Nervousness tells in various ways upon the +human frame, and it seemed to Mrs. St. John that the striking of the +hour would be her own knell. Every symptom of one of those frightful +paroxysms was stealing over her, and she dreaded it with an awful +dread. As long as the rest of the dinner-guests were present, +endurance was possible, though her brain had throbbed, her hands had +trembled. But they were gone, those gentlemen. They had gazed on her +beauty as she sat before them, and wondered that one so young could be +so wan and careworn. A choking sensation oppressed her; her throat +seemed to swell with it; and that sure minute-hand grew nearer and +nearer. Invalids have strange fancies; and this poor woman was an +invalid both in body and mind. + +The agitation increased. She glanced round the large space of the +darkened room--for the waiter, as was his custom, had put out the +side-lamps now that dinner was over--almost believing that she should +see Benja. The hands were all-but pointing to the hour; the silence +was growing horrible, and she suddenly addressed an observation to the +waiter at the sideboard behind her; anything to break it. There was no +answer. Mrs. Carleton St. John turned sharply round, and became aware +that the man had gone out; that she was alone in that dreary room. +Alone! The nervous climax had come; and with a cry of horror, she flew +out at the door, and up the broad lighted staircase. + +What is it that comes over us in these moments of superstitious fear? +Surely we have all experienced this sensation: ay, even we who pride +ourselves upon our clear consciences--the dread of looking behind us. +Yet look we must, and do. The unhappy lady had only taken a few steps +up the stairs, when she turned her head in the impulse of desperation, +and there--_there_--at the foot of the stairs, as if he had but +stepped in through the open doors of the courtyard, stood the +indistinct form of a boy, bearing a lighted church; the very facsimile +of the one that other boy had borne on his birthday night, while a +dull, wild, unearthly sound, apparently proceeding from him, smote +upon her ear. + +She knew not how she got up the stairs, how she burst into her chamber +in the long corridor. Prance ought to have been there; but Prance was +not: there was only the wood-fire in the grate; the two wax lights on +the mantelpiece. + +And at the same moment she became conscious of hearing a strange +noise; the wildest sounds that ever struck on the ear of man. They +seemed to come from the street; the very air resounded with them; +louder and louder they grew; loud enough to make a deaf man hear, to +strike the most equable mind with a vague sense of momentary terror. +The same basilisk impulse that had caused her to glance round on the +staircase, drew her now to the window. She dashed it open and leaned +out--perhaps for company in her desperate loneliness, poor thing! +But--what was it she beheld? + +In all parts of the street, in every corner of it, distant, near, +nearer, pouring into it from all directions, as if they were making +for the hotel, as if they were making for _her_, flocking into it in +crowds,--from the Place Jean Bart, from the Rue de l'Eglise, from +the Rue Nationale, from the Rue David-d'Angers, from the Place +Napoleon,--came shoals upon shoals of lighted churches, toys, similar +to the one she had just seen below, to the one carried by that +unfortunate child a year ago, at Alnwick. Of all sizes, of all forms, +of various degrees of clearness and light, a few were red and a few +were green, came on these conspicuous things: paper models of +cottages, of houses, of towers, of lanterns, of castles, and many +models of churches; on, on they pressed; accompanied by the horrible +din of these hollow and unearthly sounds. With an awful cry, that was +lost in the depths of the room--what could be heard amidst that +discordant babel?--Mrs. St. John turned to fly, and fell to the floor +in convulsions. She had only _imagined_ that she saw Benja in those +previous nervous dreams of hers: now it seemed that the dream had +passed into reality, and these were a thousand Benjas, in flesh and +blood, come to mock at her. + +And where was Prance? Her mistress had said to her on going down to +dinner, "Wait for me in my room;" but Prance for once neglected to +observe the mandate. For one thing, she had not supposed dinner would +be over so soon. Prance was only in the next chamber: perfectly +absorbed, both she and Mrs. Brayford, in this strange sight, which was +all real; not supernatural, as perhaps poor Mrs. St. John had been +thinking. They stood at the window both of them, their necks stretched +out as far as they could stretch, gazing with amazed eyes at all this +light and din. Nothing of the supernatural did it bear for them: they +saw the scene as it was, but wondered at its cause and meaning. It was +a wonderfully novel and pretty sight, though the two women kept +petulantly stopping their ears and laughing at the din. The lighted +toys, lanterns, churches, or whatever you please to call them, were +chiefly composed of paper, the frames of splinters of wood; a few were +of glass. They were borne aloft on long sticks or poles, chiefly by +children; but it seemed as if the whole population had turned out to +escort them; as indeed it had. The Flemish maids, in their white caps, +carried these toys as well as the children, all in a state of broad +delight, except when one of the lanterns took fire and was +extinguished for evermore. It was a calm night: it generally is so, +the inhabitants of that town will tell you, on St. Martin's Eve. The +uproar proceeded from _horns_; cows' horns, clay horns, brass horns, any +horns; one of which every lad under twenty held to his lips, blowing +with all his might. Prance, who rarely exhibited curiosity about any +earthly thing, was curious as to this, and sought for an explanation +amidst the servants of the hotel. The following was the substance of +it-- + +When the saint, Martin, was on earth in the flesh, sojourning in this +French-Flemish town, his ass was lost one dark night on the +neighbouring downs. The holy man was in despair, and called upon the +inhabitants to aid him in his search. The whole population responded +with a will, and turned out with horns and lanterns, a dense fog +prevailing at the time. Tradition says their efforts were successful, +and the lost beast was restored to its owner. Hence commenced this +annual custom, and most religiously has it been observed ever since. +On St. Martin's Eve and St. Martin's Night, the 10th and 11th of +November, as soon as darkness comes on, the principal streets of the +town are perambulated by crowds carrying their horns and lanterns. It +is looked upon almost as a religious fête, and is sanctioned by the +authorities. Police keep the streets clear; carriages, carts, and +horses are not allowed to pass during the two or three hours that it +prevails; and, in short, every consideration gives way to the horns +and lanterns on St. Martin's Eve and Night. + +It was a strange coincidence that had taken thither Mrs. St. John; one +of those inexplicable things that we cannot explain, only wonder at. +The women, their number augmented by two of the Flemish maid-servants, +remained at the window, enduring the din, admiring some particularly +tasty church or castle; laughing at others that took fire, to the +intense irritation of their bearers. In the midst of this, Prance +suddenly bethought herself of her mistress, and hastened into the +adjoining room. + +A sharp cry from Prance summoned Nurse Brayford. Their lady was lying +on the floor, to all appearance insensible. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. +MRS. BRAYFORD'S BELIEF. + + +The deceitful improvement in the state of Adeline de Castella still +continued. Herself alone (and perhaps the medical faculty) saw it for +what it was--a temporary flickering up of the life-flame before going +out. Now and then she would drop a word which betrayed her own +convictions, and they did not like to hear it. + +Rose had put on her mourning, as slight as was consistent with any +sort of decency; but she heard few particulars of the last days of the +little heir, except that he died at Ypres, and was buried there. +"Ypres! of all the places in the world!" ejaculated Rose, in +astonishment. Mrs. St. John had gone to England, but not to Alnwick. +Alnwick had passed into the hands of the other branch--the St. Johns +of Castle Wafer. + +"What a miserable succession of misfortunes!" mused Rose, one day, +upon reading a letter from her mother. "All Charlotte's grandeur gone +from her! First her husband, then the little stepson, next her own +boy, and now Alnwick." + +"Has she nothing left?" asked Adeline. "No fortune?" + +"Just a pittance, I suppose," rejoined Rose. "About as adequate a sum +to keep up the state suited to the widow of George St. John of +Alnwick, as five pounds a year would be to find me in bonnets. There +was something said about George St. John's not being able to make a +settlement at the time of the marriage. Most of his money had come to +him through his first wife, and his large fortune in prospective has +not yet fallen in." + +"Will it fall to your sister?" + +"Not now. It passes on to Isaac St. John. How rich he'll be, that +man!" + +Adeline was looking so well. She sat at the table, writing a note to +one of the girls at Madame de Nino's. Her dress was of purple silk; +its open lace cuffs, of delicate texture, shading her wrists; its +white collar, of the same, falling back from her ivory throat. And the +face was so lovely still! with its delicate bloom, and its rich dark +eyes. Madame de Castella came in. + +"Adeline, that English nurse is downstairs--the one who nursed you in +the spring," she said. "Would you like to see her?" + +"What, Nurse Brayford!" exclaimed Rose, starting up. "_I_ should like +to see her. I shall hear about little Georgy St. John." + +"Stay a minute, Rose," said Madame de Castella, laying her hand upon +the impulsive girl. "Adeline, this person is very skilful; her +judicious treatment did you a great deal of good in the spring. I feel +inclined to ask her to come here now for a week." + +Adeline looked up from her writing, the faint colour in her cheeks +becoming a shade brighter. + +"Surely, mamma, you do not think I require two nurses! It has seemed +to me of late that the one already here is superfluous." + +"My dear child! don't suppose I wish her to come here as a nurse. Only +for a few days, my child! it would be the greatest satisfaction to me. +I'll say a word of explanation to the _garde_," added Madame, "or we +shall make her jealous. These nurses can be very disagreeable in a +house, if put out." + +She rang the bell as she spoke, and Rose made her escape, finding Mrs. +Brayford in one of the downstairs rooms. Rose, a very Eve of +curiosity, liking to know every one's business, whether it concerned +her or not, as her mother did before her, poured out question upon +question. Mrs. Brayford, not having the slightest objection to answer, +told all she knew. Rose was rather indignant upon one point: why had +they left the poor little fellow at Ypres? Why was he not taken to +Alnwick? The nurse could not tell: Prance had been surprised too. She +supposed Mrs. St. John was too much absorbed by grief to think of it. + +"Does Charlotte--does Mrs. St. John feel it _very_ much?" asked Rose. + +"Oh, miss! my firm belief is, that"--the woman stopped, glanced over +her shoulder to see that they were alone, and lowered her voice to a +whisper--"the sorrow has turned her brain." + +"Nonsense!" uttered Rose, after a pause. "You don't mean it!" + +"It's the truth, Miss Darling, I'm afraid. She was always having +visions of--did you know, miss, that the eldest little boy died +through an accident, a paper church taking fire that his nursemaid had +left him alone with?" + +"Of course I know it," replied Rose. "That nursemaid ought to have +been transported for life!" + +"Well, miss, poor Mrs. St. John used to fancy that she saw the boy +with his lighted church. I heard of this first from little George; but +after his death she was worse, and I witnessed one of these attacks +myself. She seemed to have an awful dread of the vision. If her +brain's not affected, my name's not Nancy Brayford." + +"I never heard of such a thing," cried Rose. "Fancies she +sees---- Oh, it can't be." + +"It _is_, miss. I've not time to tell you now, excepting just the +heads, but we had such a curious thing happen. At the last place we +stopped at, where Mrs. St. John went to take the steamer direct for +London, there was a street show at night, consisting of these very +churches and lanterns, all lighted up and carried about on poles. It's +their way of keeping St. Martin's Eve; and I don't say it wasn't +pretty enough, but of all the noises ever heard, which was caused by +about a thousand horns, all being blowed together, that was the worst. +We found Mrs. St. John on the floor in her room in a sort of fit; and +when she came to, she said the wildest things--about having, or not +having, we couldn't make it out, set fire herself to the child. She +was as mad that night, Miss Darling, as anybody ever was. The sight of +the lighted things had put the finishing touch to her brain." + +Rose hardly knew whether to recoil in fear, or to laugh in derision. +The tale sounded very strange to her ear. + +"Prance was frightened, for once," went on the woman, "and it's not a +little that can frighten _her_--as perhaps you know, miss. She +telegraphed to Mrs. Darling, and we got Mrs. St. John on board the +London boat--which was starting at three in the morning. She was calm +then, from exhaustion, and seemingly sensible. Prance brought her up +one or two of the lanterns and a horn to show her that they were real +things and quite harmless." + +"She is very well, now," said Rose. "I had a letter from mamma this +morning; and she says how glad she is that Charlotte is recovering her +spirits." + +"Ah, well, miss, I'm rejoiced to hear it," was the answer, its tone +one of unmistakable disbelief. "I hope she'll keep so. But that she +was mad in the brain then, I could take my affidavit upon. Bless you, +miss, I've seen a great deal of it: the notions that some sick people +take up passes belief. I've known 'em fancy themselves murderers and +many other things that's bad,--delicate ladies, too, who had never +done a wrong thing in their lives." + +"My sister was always so very calm." + +"And so she was throughout, except at odd moments; quite unnaturally +calm. She--but I'll tell you more about it another opportunity, Miss +Darling," broke off the woman, as Madame de Castella entered the room. +"It's no disparagement to the poor young lady--and she is young: sick +folks are not accountable for the freaks their minds take." + +Rose returned a slighting answer, as if the words had made little +impression on her. But as the hours went on, she somehow could not get +rid of their remembrance; they seemed to grow deeper and deeper. What +a horrible thing if the woman were right! if the grief and trouble +should have turned Charlotte's brain! + + +Extract From Miss Carr's Diary. + + +Dec. 10_th_.--Oh this deceitful disease! all the dreadful weakness has +returned. Adeline cannot go downstairs now. She just comes from her +chamber into the front room, and lies on the sofa the best part of the +day. Madame de Castella, who fully believed in the amendment, giving +way more than any one of us to the false hopes it excited, is nearly +beside herself with grief and despair. She is perpetually reproaching +herself for allowing Nurse Brayford to leave. The woman stayed here +for a few days, but Adeline was so well it seemed a farce to keep her, +and now she has taken another place and cannot return. I am glad she's +gone, for my part. She could not do Adeline the slightest good, and +she and the _garde_ kept up an incessant chatter in strange French. +Brayford's French was something curious to listen to: 'Le feu est +sorti,' she said one day, and sent Rose into a screaming fit. Signor +de Castella we rarely see, except at dinner; now and then at the +second déjeûner; but he is mostly shut up in his cabinet. Is it that +the sight of his fading child is more than he can bear? Cold and +reserved as he has always been, there's no doubt that he loves Adeline +with the deepest love. + +15_th_.--Five days, and Adeline not out of her bedroom! The cough has +come back again, and the doctors say she must have taken cold. I don't +see how she could; but Dr. Dorré's as cross as can be over it. + +A fancy has taken her these last few days to hear Rose sing English +songs. On the first evening, Rose was in the front room, the +intervening door being open, singing in a sweet, low voice to amuse +herself; but Adeline listened and asked for more. More songs, only +they must be English. + +"I think I have come to the end of my stock," answered Rose; "that is, +all I can remember. Stay!--what was that long song so much in request +this year at school? Do you remember the words, Mary Carr?" + +"How am I to know what song you mean?" I asked. + +"Some of us set it to music,--a low, soft chant. Last spring it was, +after Adeline had left. You must remember it. It was strummed over for +everlasting weeks by the whole set of us. It begins thus," added Rose, +striking a few chords. + +I recollected then. They were lines we saw in a book belonging to that +Emma Mowbray, an old, torn magazine, which had neither covers nor +title-page. Some of the girls took a violent fancy to them, and +somebody--Janet Duff, was it?--set them to music. + +"I have it," cried Rose, striking boldly into the song. Nearly with +the first words Adeline rose into a sitting posture, her eyes strained +in the direction of Rose though she could not see her, and eagerly +listening. + + "When woman's eye grows dim, + And her cheek paleth; + When fades the beautiful, + Then man's love faileth. + He sits not beside her chair, + Clasps not her fingers, + Entwines not the damp hair + That o'er her brow lingers. + + "He comes but a moment in, + Though her eye lightens, + Though the hectic flush + Feverishly heightens. + He stays but a moment near, + While that flush fadeth; + Though disappointment's tear + Her dim eye shadeth. + + "He goes from her chamber, straight + Into life's jostle: + He meets, at the very gate, + Business and bustle. + He thinks not of her, within, + Silently sighing; + He forgets, in that noisy din, + That she is dying." + + +"There is another verse," I called out, for Rose had ceased. + +"I know, there is," she said, "but I cannot recollect it. Only its +purport!" + +"Try, try," exclaimed Adeline; "sing it all." + +Rose looked round, astonished at the anxious tone, as was I. What was +the matter with her?--she who never took interest in anything. + +"Mary Carr," said Rose, "do you recollect the last verse?" + +"Not a word of it." + +Rose struck the notes of the chant upon the piano, murmuring some +words to herself, and stopping now and then. Presently she burst out, +something after the manner of an improvisatrice-- + + + "And when the last scene's o'er, + And cold, cold her cheek, + His mind's then all despair, + And his heart like to break. + But, a few months on,-- + His constancy to prove-- + He forgets her who is gone, + And seeks another love." + + +"They are not exactly the original words," said Rose, "but they will +do." + +"They will do, they will do," murmured Adeline, falling back on the +sofa. "Sing it all again, Rose." + +And every evening since has this song been sung two or three times to +please her. What is it she sees in it? + +23_rd_.--I fear the day of life is about to close for Adeline. All the +ominous symptoms of the disease have returned: pain oppresses her +continually, and now she experiences a difficulty in breathing. Ah, +Mr. St. John, if you were to come now and comfort her with all your +love, as of yore, you could not restore her to health, or prolong her +life by one single day. How strange it is we never hear of him! Is he +in London?--is he at Castle Wafer?--is he abroad?--where is he? + +26_th_.--It is astonishing that Madame de Castella continues to cheat +herself as to Adeline's state--or, rather, _make believe_ to cheat +herself, as the children do at their play. She was determined there +should be only one dinner-table yesterday, Christmas Day; so it was +laid in the drawing-room, and Adeline went in, the nurse and Louise +making a show of dressing her up for it. But all the dress, and the +dinner, and the ceremony, could not conceal the truth--that she was +dying. Madame de Castella was in most wretched spirits; her silent +tears fell, in spite of her efforts, with every morsel she put into +her mouth. The Signor was gloomy and reserved; latterly he had never +been otherwise. Had it not been for Rose, there would have been no +attempt at conversation; but Rose, with all her faults, is a downright +treasure in a house, always gay and cheerful. We gathered round the +fire after dinner, Rose cracking filberts for us all. + +"Do you remember our Christmas dinner last year?" she said to Adeline. + +"At Madame de Nino's? Quite well." + +"And our sly draw at night at Janet Duff's cards, and the French +marigold falling, as usual, to you?" + +Adeline answered by a faint gesture, it may have been of assent, it +may have been of denial, and Rose bit her repentant tongue. She had +spoken without reflection: does she ever speak with it? + +29_th_.--A dark, murky day has this been, but one of event for +Adeline. The lights were brought in early in the afternoon, for Rose +was reading to her, and it grew too dusk to see. It was the second +volume of a new English novel, and Rose was so deeply interested in +it, that when Susanne came in with a letter for her, she told her to +"put it down anywhere," and read on. + +"Not so," said Adeline, looking eagerly up; "open your letter first. +Who is it from?" + +"From Mary Anne, of course: Margaret never writes to me, and mamma but +seldom," replied Rose, breaking the seal. And, not to lose time, she +read it out at once. Mrs. Darling and her family are spending +Christmas with old Mrs. Darling, in Berkshire. + + +"My Dear Rose, + +"We arrived here on Christmas Eve, but I have found no time to write +to you until now. Grandmamma is breaking fast; it is apparent to us +all: she has aged much in the past twelve months. She was disappointed +you did not make one of us, and particularly hopes you have grown +steady, and are endeavouring to acquire the reserve of manner +essential to a gentlewoman." ("Or an old maid," ejaculated Rose, in a +parenthesis.) "Charlotte is here: she has recovered her spirits +wonderfully, and is as handsome as ever. Frank joined us on +Christmas morning: he has only got leave for a fortnight. He reports +Ireland--the part he is now quartered in--as being in a shocking +state. For my part, I never listen to anything he may have to say +about such a set of savages. Frank lays down the law beautifully--says +he only wishes they would make him Viceroy for a spell: he'd do this, +and he'd do that. I don't doubt he does wish it. + +"In your last letter you ask about Frederick St. John----" Rose looked +off, and hesitated; but Adeline's flushed, eager gaze, the parted +lips, the breathless interest, told her there was nothing for it but +to continue. "We met him lately at one of the Dowager Revel's +assemblies--very crowded it was, considering the season. It was +whispered last year that he was ruined, obliged to leave the country, +and I don't know what. People ought to be punished for inventing such +falsehoods. Instead of being ruined, he enjoys a splendid income, and +has not a single debt in the world. It is reported that his brother +has made over to him Castle Wafer, which I should think to be only a +report: it may be true, though, now he has come into Alnwick. He is +again the shadow of Sarah Beauclerc; at least he was her shadow this +evening at Lady Revel's, and I should think it will inevitably be a +match. I wish we knew him; but did not dare ask for an introduction, +he looks so haughty, and mamma was not there. Grandmamma sends her +love, and----" + +I went forward and raised Adeline on her pillows. The emotion that she +would have concealed was struggling with her will for mastery. Once +more the burning red spot we thought gone for ever shone on her hollow +cheeks, and her hands were fighting with the air, and the breath had +stopped. + +"Oh, Adeline!" cried Rose, pushing me aside without ceremony, +"forgive, forgive me! Indeed I did not know what there was in the +letter until I had entered upon the words: I did not know his name was +mentioned. What is to be done, Mary? this excitement is enough to kill +her. La garde, la garde!" called out Rose in terror; "que faut-il +faire. Mademoiselle se trouve malade!" + +The nurse, who was in the next room, glided up with a rapid step; but, +in regaining her breath, Adeline's self-possession returned to her. +"It is nothing," she panted; "only a spasm." And down she sank on her +pillow, whispering for them to remove the lights. + +"Into the next room--for a little while--they hurt my eyes." + +The nurse went out with the tapers, one in each hand, and I knelt down +by the sofa. + +"What of your deductions now, Mary?" she whispered, after a while, +referring to a former conversation. "He is with his early love, and I +am here, dying." + +"Adeline," I said, "have you no wish to see him again? Did I do wrong +in asking it?" + +She turned her face to the wall and did not answer. + +"I know that you parted in anger, but it all seems to me a great +mystery. Whatever cause he may have had for estranging himself, I did +not think Mr. St. John was one to forsake you in this heartless way, +with the grave so near." + +"He forsook me in health," she said, and her voice now had assumed +that hollow tone it would never lose in this world; "you might admit +there was an excuse for him if you knew all. But--all this time--never +to make inquiry after me--never to seek to know if I am dead, or +living, or married to another! Whilst to hear of him, to see him, I +would forfeit what life is left to me." + +_New Year's Day_.--And a fearful commotion the house has been in, by +way of welcome. This morning Adeline was taken alarmingly worse; we +thought she was dying, and doctors, priests, friends and servants, +jostled each other in the sick chamber. The doctors gained possession, +expelled us all in a body, and enforced quiet. She will not die yet, +they say, if she is allowed tranquillity--not for some days, perhaps +weeks, but will rally again. I think they are right, for she is much +better this evening. Adeline is nineteen today. This time last year! +this time last year! it was the scene and hour of her brilliant +ball-night. How things have changed since then! + +Yesterday Adeline showed her hands to young Docteur H----. It has +struck her as being very singular that their nails should have turned +white. It strikes me so too. He seemed to intimate that it was a very +uncommon occurrence, but said he had seen it happen from intense +anxiety of mind. "Which," he added, "cannot be your case, my dear +Mademoiselle de Castella." Adeline hastily drew her hands under the +blue silk sofa cover, and spoke of something else. + +_Jan_. 5_th_.--"Could you not wheel the chair into the other room--to +the window?" Adeline asked suddenly today. "I should like to look out +on the world once more." + +Louise glanced round at me, and I at the nurse, not knowing what to +do. But the nurse made no objection, and she and Louise wheeled the +large chair, with as little motion as possible, to one of the +drawing-room windows, and then raised her up, and supported her while +she stood. + +It was no cheering prospect that she gazed upon. A slow, small rain +was falling; the snow, fast melting on the housetops, was running down +in streams of water, and patches of snow lay in the streets, but they +were fast turning into mud and slop. Through an open space a glimpse +of the distant country was obtained, and there the snow lay bleak, +white, and dreary. What few people were passing in the street hurried +along under large cotton umbrellas, some as red and round as Louise's, +the women with their heads tied up in blue and yellow kerchiefs. +"Dreary, dreary!" she murmured as she gazed; "dreary and void of hope, +as my later life has been!" + +Old Madame G----'s cook came out of their house with an earthen pan, +and placed it underneath the spout to catch the water. + +"Is that Madame G---- herself?" cried Adeline, watching the movement. +"Where can her two servants be?" + +"It's nobody but old Nannette, with white bows in her cap," said +Louise, laughing. "Mademoiselle's eyes are deceiving her." + +"Is not that M. de Fraconville?" resumed Adeline, pointing to a +gentleman who had just come in view, round the opposite corner. + +"Something must have taken your eyesight today, Adeline," exclaimed +Rose, who was at the other window; "it's a head and half too tall for +M. de Fraconville." + +"You say right," meekly sighed Adeline; "my sight is dim, and looking +on the white snow has rendered it more so. Take me back again." + +It will be her last look at outdoor life. + +They wheeled her into the other room, and settled her comfortably on +her chair, near the fire, her head on the pillows and her feet on a +footstool. Rose followed, and took up a light work to read to her. + +"Not that," said Adeline, motioning away the volume in Rose's hands; +"it is time I had done with such. There is ANOTHER Book there, Rose." + +In coming in from church last Sunday, I laid my Bible and Prayer-book +down in Adeline's room, and forgot them. It was towards these she +pointed. Rose took up the Bible. + +"Where shall I read?" she asked, sitting down. Adeline could not tell +her. The one was almost as ignorant as the other. The Bible, to +Adeline, has been a sealed book, and Rose never opens it but as a +matter of form. Rose turned over its leaves in indecision. "So many +chapters!" she whispered to me, pleadingly, "Tell me which to fix +upon." + +"Take the Prayer-book," interrupted Adeline, "and read me your Service +for the Burial of the Dead." + +Rose found the place at once, for she knew it was close to the +Marriage Service, and began: + +"'I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord: he that +believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever +liveth and believeth in me shall never die.'" + +There she stopped, for the tears were falling, and she could not see +the page; and, just then, Miss de Beaufoy came into the room, and saw +what Rose was reading. For the first time, in our hearing, she +interfered, beseeching Adeline to remember she was a Roman Catholic, +and recommending that a priest should be sent for. + +"Dear Aunt Agnes," exclaimed Adeline, impressively, "when you shall be +as near to death as I am, you will see the fallacy of these earthly +differences,--how worse than useless they must appear in the sight of +our universal Father, of our loving Saviour. There is but one heaven, +and I believe it is of little moment which form of worship we pursue, +so that we pray and strive earnestly in it to arrive there. I shall be +none the worse for listening to the prayers from this English book: +they are all truth and beauty, and they soothe me. The priests will +come later." + +A bold avowal for a Roman Catholic, and Agnes de Beaufoy crossed +herself as she left the room. Rose read the Burial Service to the end. + +And so, existence hanging as it were upon a thread, the days still +struggle on. + + +There will be no more extracts from this young lady's diary. And +indeed but little more of anything; this portion of the history, like +Adeline's life, draws near its close. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. +LOUISE'S WHISPERED WORDS. + + +You could see at a first glance that it was only a temporary +bed-chamber--a drawing-room converted into one, to serve some special +occasion. Its carpet was of unusual richness; its chairs and sofa, +handsomely carved, were covered with embossed purple velvet; its +window-curtains, of white flowered muslin, were surmounted by purple +velvet and glittering yellow cornices; and fine paintings adorned the +walls. The bed alone seemed out of place. It was of plain mahogany, a +French bed, without curtains, and was placed in the corner which made +the angle between the two doors, one of which opened on the corridor, +the other on the adjoining room, a large, magnificent drawing-room, +furnished _en suite_ with the one in which the bed was. + +On a couch, drawn before the fire, she lay, her sweet face white and +wasted. The sick-nurse sat near the sofa, and the lady's-maid, Louise, +was busy with the pillows of the bed. Adeline was about to be moved +into it, but as they were disrobing her, she suddenly fell back, +apparently without life or motion. + +"She has fainted," screamed Louise. + +"She is taken for death," whispered the nurse. + +Louise flew into a fit of anger and tears, abusing the nurse for her +hard-hearted ideas. But the nurse was right. + +"You had better summon the family, Mademoiselle Louise," persisted the +nurse; "they must have done dinner; and let the doctors be sent +to,--though they can do nothing for her, poor young lady." + +"She has not fainted," whispered Louise. "She is conscious." + +"No, no, it is no fainting-fit," was the brief answer. "I have seen +more of these things than you have. She will rally a little, I dare +say." + +No one went to bed that night at Signor de Castella's: it was a +general scene of weeping, suspense, and agitation. Adeline was +tranquil, except for her laboured breathing. + +Early in the morning, she asked to see her father. He remained with +her about twenty minutes, shut up with her alone. What passed at the +interview none can tell. Did she beg forgiveness for the rebellion she +had unintentionally been guilty of in loving one whom, perhaps, she +ought not to have loved? Or did _he_ implore pardon of her, for having +been instrumental in condemning her to misery? None will ever know. +When Signor de Castella left the chamber, he passed along the corridor +on his way to his cabinet with his usual measured, stately step; but +there were traces of emotion on his face--they saw it as he strode by +the drawing-room door. Mary Carr opened the door between the two +rooms, and went in, knowing that Adeline was alone, and she gathered +a little of the interview. Adeline was sobbing wildly. She had +heard the last words of impassioned tenderness from her much-loved +father--always deeply loved by her; tenderness that he would never +have given vent to in the presence of a third person, or under any +circumstances of less excitement: but when these outwardly-cold +natures are aroused, whether for anger or for tenderness, their +emotion is as that of the rushing whirlwind. Adeline had clung round +him with the feeble remnant of her strength, whispering how very dear +he had always been to her, dearer far than he had ever suspected: and +the Signor had given his consent (now that it was too late) to the +true facts of the separation being disclosed to Frederick St. John. + +The day grew later. The nurse, for the twentieth time, was arranging +the uneasy pillows, when Susanne went in to tell her to go to dinner, +taking herself the nurse's place, as she in general did, during her +absence. Madame de Castella, quite exhausted with grief, had just gone +away for a little repose. Adeline, though comparatively free from +pain, was restless to an extreme degree, as many persons are, in +dying. When not dozing, and that was rare, she was never still for two +minutes together, and the pillows and bedclothes were continually +misplaced. Scarcely had the nurse left the room, when Miss Carr had to +lean over her to put them straight. + +"Who is that?" inquired Adeline, in her hollow voice, her face being +turned to the wall. She detected, probably, the difference of touch, +for in this the sick are very quick. + +"It is I--Mary. Nurse has gone down to her dinner." + +She took Miss Carr's hand, and held it for some time in silence. "I +have been wanting--all day--to speak to you--Mary--but I--have +waited." She could say now but few words consecutively. + +"What is it you would say, dearest Adeline?" + +"Who is in the room?" + +"Susanne. No one else." + +"Tell her to go. I want you alone." + +"She does not understand our language." + +"Alone, alone," repeated Adeline. "Susanne." + +The lady's-maid heard the call, and went to the bedside. + +"Help me to turn round, Susanne. I have not strength." + +With some difficulty they turned her, for they were not so clever at +it as the nurse. Adeline then lay looking at them, as she panted for +breath. Susanne wiped the cold dew from her pale forehead, and some +tears from her own face. + +"Leave us alone, Susanne. I have something to say to Mademoiselle +Carr." + +"Stay in the next room, within call, Susanne," whispered Miss Carr to +the servant. It may seem strange, but dearly as Mary Carr loved +Adeline, she experienced an indescribable awe at being left alone with +her. She did not stay to analyze the sensation, but it must have had +its rise in that nameless terror which, in the mind of the young, +attaches itself to the presence of the dead and dying. + +"I am about to entrust you with a commission to _him_, Mary," she +panted. "You will faithfully execute it?" + +"Faithfully and truly." + +And, stretching out her white and wasted hand, she held out the key of +her writing-desk. "There is a secret spring in the desk, on the right, +as you put in your hand," she continued; "press it." + +With some awkwardness, Mary Carr did as she was desired, and several +love-tokens were disclosed to view. Two or three trinkets of value, a +few dried flowers, and some letters, the edges much worn. + +"Throw the flowers in the fire," murmured Adeline, "and put all the +rest in a parcel, and seal it up." + +"How the notes are worn, Adeline!" exclaimed Mary. "One would think +them twenty years old." + +"Yes," she said, "until I took to my bed I carried them _here_," +touching her bosom. "They are his letters." + +Miss Carr speedily made up the packet, and was about to seal it. + +"Not that seal," said Adeline. "Take my own; the small one, that has +my initials on it. Mary, do you think I could direct it?" + +"_You_ direct it!" exclaimed Miss Carr, in surprise. "I don't see +how." + +"If you could raise me up--and hold me--it would not take more than a +minute. I wish to write the address myself." + +"Let me call Susanne." + +"No, no, I will have no one else here. Put the letter before me on a +book, and try and raise me." + +It was accomplished after some trouble, Mary Carr was nervous, and +feared, besides, that the raising her up might do some injury: but she +knew not how to resist Adeline's beseeching looks. She supported her +up in bed, and held her, whilst she wrote his name, "Frederick St. +John." No "Mr.," no "Esquire;" and written in a straggling hand, all +shakes and angles, bearing not any resemblance to what Adeline's had +been. Mary laid her down again, and Adeline, in a few words, explained +the secret of their being parted, and charged her to enlighten him. + +"Tell him I have returned all except the ring, and that will be buried +with me. That it has never been off my finger since he placed it +there." + +"What ring?" exclaimed Mary Carr, surprised, even at such a moment, +into curiosity. "The ring you wear is de la Chasse's engagement-ring," +she continued, looking down at the plain circlet of gold, that was +only kept on Adeline's emaciated finger by the smaller guard worn to +protect it. + +She shook her head feebly. "_He_ will know." + +"What else, Adeline?" + +"Tell him my heart will be faithful to him in death, as it ever was in +life. Nothing more." + +"Why did you not write to him--" asked Mary Carr, "a last letter?" + +"He might not have cared to receive it. There is _another_ now." + +The close of the afternoon came on. The nurse was sitting in her chair +on one side the fireplace; Louise silently seesawed herself backwards +and forwards upon another; Mary Carr was standing, in a listless +attitude, before the fire, her elbow lodging on the mantelpiece; and +Rose Darling sat on a low stool, half asleep, her head resting against +Adeline's bed. They were all fatigued. In the next room were heard +murmurings of conversation: M. de Castella talking with one of the +medical men. Adeline, just then, was quiet, and appeared to be dozing. + +"I say, la garde," began Louise, in a low whisper, "is it true that +mademoiselle asked old H---- this morning how many hours she should +live?" + +The nurse nodded. + +"Chère enfant!" apostrophized Louise, through her tears. "And what did +he say?" + +"What should he say?" retorted the nurse. "He does not know any more +than we do." + +"What do _you_ think?" + +The nurse shook her head, rose from her seat, and bent over the bed to +look at Adeline, who was lying with her face turned away. + +"She sleeps, I think, nurse," observed Rose, whom the movement had +disturbed; and her own eyes closed again as she spoke. + +"I suppose she does, mademoiselle. I can't see her face; but, if she +were not asleep, she wouldn't remain so quiet." + +"I heard a word dropped today," cried Louise, in a mysterious voice, +as the nurse resumed her chair. + +"What word?" + +But there Louise stopped, pursed up her mouth, and dried her eyes, +which, for the last fortnight or so, had been generally overflowing. + +"I don't know," resumed Louise. "It mayn't be true, and I am sure, if +it should turn out not to be, _I_ shouldn't choose to say anything +about it. So I had better hold my tongue." + +Now the most effectual way to induce Louise _not_ to hold her tongue, +was to exhibit no curiosity as to anything she might appear disposed +to communicate. The garde knew this, and for that reason, probably, +sat silent. After awhile, Louise began again. + +"But it can do no harm to mention it amongst ourselves. It was Susanne +told me, and of course she must have gathered it from madame. She +said--you are sure she's asleep?" broke off Louise, looking round at +the bed. + +"She's asleep, fast enough," repeated the nurse; "she is too quiet to +be awake." And Louise resumed, in the hushed, peculiar tone she had +been using; it sounded awfully mysterious, taken in conjunction with +her subject, through the space of that dying room. + +"Susanne thinks that mademoiselle will be exhibited." + +"_What?_" ejaculated the nurse, in a startled tone. + +"Qu'elle sera exposée après sa mort." (I prefer to give this sentence +in the language in which the conversation was carried on.) + +"What in the world do you mean?" demanded Rose, waking up from her +semi-sleep. + +"That Mademoiselle Adeline will hold a reception after death, +mademoiselle." + +"Louise, what _do_ you mean?" persisted Rose, opening her eyes to +their utmost width. + +But Mary Carr had taken in, and understood, the full meaning of the +words; she was more generally acquainted with French manners and +customs than Rose: and as her eye caught the reflection of her own +face in the large pier-glass, she saw that it had turned of a ghastly +whiteness. + +"You don't follow this fashion in your country, mademoiselle, so I +have learnt," whispered the nurse, addressing Rose. "Neither is it +kept up here as it used to be. We scarcely ever meet with a case now. +But I have heard my mother say--she was a sage-femme, mademoiselle, as +well as a garde-malade--that when she was a girl there was scarcely a +young gentlewoman of good family, who died unmarried, but what held +her reception after death. And in my time, also, I have seen many +splendid exhibitions." + +"Oh, nurse, nurse," shivered Mary Carr, "_don't_ talk so." + +"What's the matter, mademoiselle?" asked the woman, kindly gazing at +Miss Carr's scared face. "You look ill." + +"I feel sick," was Mary Carr's faint answer. "I cannot help it. I +think what you are talking of is _horrible_." + +"Do explain what it is you are talking of," interrupted Rose, +impatiently. "La garde! what is it all?" + +"I will tell you one instance, mademoiselle," said the woman, "and +that will explain the rest. My aunt was housekeeper in Madame Marsac's +family. Madame was a widow with three children, and lived in a grand +old château near to our village. The eldest, Mademoiselle Marsac, was +married to an officer in the army, and had gone away with him, the +Saints know where, but a long way off, for it was in the time of +Napoleon, and we were at war with half Europe then. Young Marsac, the +only son, was a captain in the same regiment; he was also away with +it; and Mademoiselle Emma was the only one left at home, and madame +her mother doted on her. A fine, blooming young lady she was, with a +colour like a rose: you might have taken a lease of her life. But, +poor thing, she fell suddenly ill. Some said she had taken cold, +others thought she had eaten something that did her harm, but an +inward inflammation came on, and she was dead in a week. Madame was +nearly crazed, and my aunt said it was pitiful to hear her shrieks the +night after the death, and her prayers to the good Virgin to be taken +with her child. But madame's sister came to the château with the early +light, and she forthwith gave orders that poor Mademoiselle Emma +should be exhibited." + +"Do go on, nurse," pleaded Rose, whose cheek was getting as white as +Mary Carr's, the woman having stopped, in thought. + +"I was but a little child then, mademoiselle, as you may suppose, for +it was in 1812; but my aunt suddenly sent for me up to the château, to +assist. They did not keep many servants; my aunt had only one under +her, besides the old gardener, for Madame Marsac was not rich; so I +was put to do what I could. My faith! I shall never forget it: it was +the first thing of the sort I had seen. They dressed the corpse up in +rich white robes, as if for her bridal, with flowers and jewels, and +white gloves, and white satin shoes. And then she was placed upright +at the end of the grand salon, and all the neighbouring people for +miles round, all the rich, and as many of the poor as could get +admission, came to visit her. My aunt slipped me into the room, and I +was there for, I should think, five minutes. It had the strangest +effect! That dressed-up dead thing, at one end, and the live people, +all dressed up in their best too, and mostly looking white and +awestruck, coming in at the other. There was a long table going down +the room, and they walked once round it, looking at her as they +passed, and going out in silence. I don't think it was the thing, +mademoiselle, for that aunt of mine to send a timid young child of +five or so, as I was then, to see such a sight; but she was always +indulgent to me, and thought it would be a treat. I could scarcely +keep down my terror whilst I stayed in the room, and I am sure I must +have looked as white and shocking as Mam'selle Mary looks just now. I +did not dare to go about in the dark for long afterwards, and I could +not overcome the feeling for years. Though I have seen many such a +sight since, none have stayed upon my memory as that first did. I did +not seem to see much, at the time, either: I never looked, but once, +to--to that part of the room where the bridal robes were." + +"But why dress them in _bridal_ robes?" questioned Rose, breathlessly. + +"As a symbol that they are going to be the bride of Heaven. At least, +that is the interpretation I have always put upon it, mademoiselle," +answered the woman. + +"The first one _I_ ever saw," interposed Louise, jealous that the +nurse should have all the talking, "was a young priest who died at +Guines. Stay--I don't think he was quite a priest, but would have been +one if he had lived. His name was Theodore Borne. He died of an +accident to his hand, and they made him hold a reception after death. +I have never seen but two beside him. One was the sister of the Count +Plessit, a lady about forty, but she had never been married; and the +other was a young girl in this very town, the daughter of a couple who +kept a general-furnishing shop, hired out, and sold furniture, and +that; and a mint of money they had made. Wasn't she dressed out, that +girl! She was an only child, poor thing, and they spared no money on +her reception. Her veil was real Brussels; and her dress was half +covered with Brussels lace, and little sprigs of orange-blossoms, and +bows of white satin ribbon. Their shop faced the market-place, and +they stuck her up at the window, looking down on to the Place.[2] It +was market-day, and the Place was full of people; crowds of them, for +the news spread, and everybody came. It was a wet day, too. Many +children were frightened at the sight. Susanne had not met with the +custom till she came to these parts: she says they never heard of it +where she comes from, just beyond Paris; at least, _she_ never did. +That Théodore Borne----" + + +------------------------ +2. A fact. +------------------------ + + +At this moment, Adeline stirred. Louise's tongue stopped as still as +if it had been shot through, and the nurse made a quiet rush to the +side of the bed. She was awake, and wanted her mouth moistened. + +As the nurse was putting down the tea and the teaspoon, Dr. Dorré, who +had been talking in the other room, came in to look at Adeline before +he quitted the house. She was quite sensible, and said she felt easy. +In the bustle of his leaving, the nurse going out to attend him to the +staircase, Adeline put out her hand and touched Mary Carr, who was now +standing by the bed. Her voice was very faint, and Mary had to lean +close to hear. + +"I--was not asleep--when Louise said--_that_. I heard it. Mary! do not +let it be done." + +Miss Carr felt much distressed. She knew not what to say. + +"I--I am sure nothing will be done that you do not wish, Adeline," she +stammered. "I think it must have been a misapprehension on the part of +Louise. Shall I speak to Madame de Castella?" + +"Not now. When I am dead--you will see if they are making +preparations--speak to mamma then." + +"Do not let this distress you, Adeline," proceeded Mary, wishing +Louise had been at the bottom of the sea before she had introduced so +unfitting a subject in Adeline's hearing. "Rely upon it, every wish of +yours will be sacredly respected." + +"It does not distress me," was the feeble reply. "But I would rather +be left in peace after death." + +Madame de Castella came down, but soon went away to her chamber again, +for her hysterical grief disturbed Adeline; Agnes de Beaufoy remained +with her sister, endeavouring, by persuasions and remonstrances, to +keep her there. Old Madame de Beaufoy was expected; and, a little +before five, M. de Castella went to the railway station to receive +her. Rose and Mary were in the drawing-room then, drinking some tea, +when the old servant, Silva, came in with a letter on a salver. + +"Pour qui!" demanded Mary. + +"Pour Mademoiselle Rose Darling," responded the old man. + +Rose, who was sitting before the fire, her feet on the fender, took +the letter, without turning her head to look at it, and threw it on +the table. + +"That worrying Mary Anne! There's no end to her letters: and they are +nothing but prosy lectures of admonition. If they think I am going to +answer all she chooses to write, they'll find their mistake. If mamma +made it a condition for a double allowance for me, I wouldn't do it." + +"It is not your sister's handwriting," observed Mary Carr. + +"No?" And Rose condescended languidly to turn her eyes towards the +epistle. "Why, I do believe it is from Frank!" she exclaimed, +snatching it out of Mary's hand. "What can he have to write about? +Perhaps grandmamma's dead, and has left us all a fortune! But it's a +red seal." + +And, breaking the red seal, she skimmed hastily over it. + +"Good Heavens! how singular! Mary! Mary!" + +Miss Carr looked at her in wonder. Her countenance, which had been +pale all day with anxiety and the previous night's watching, was now +glowing with colour and excitement. + +"He is coming to Belport. How passing strange! Mary, can it be some +unknown sympathy that attracts him hither at this hour?" + +"Your brother!" + +"He! Do you think his coming here could put me out like this? What a +stupid you are, Mary Carr! Do listen:-- + + +"My Dear Rose, + +"'Our dear and venerable grandmother, whom may all good angels +preserve--though her long life does keep us an unreasonable time out +of our own--entrusted me with a mission concerning you upon my coming +to London two days ago. She had made, or purchased, or in some way +prepared for you, a splendid article, but whether it is intended to +represent a purse or a bag, I am unable to say, being, in my +uninitiated opinion, too large for the one, and too small for the +other. A magnificent affair it is, redolent of silver beads and +gleaming silks, and it was _lined_ with her usual Christmas present to +you. Being in a generous mood myself, I slipped in another lining, +knowing your partiality for feathers and laces, and any other sort of +trumpery that costs money. This _cadeau_, duly prepared for +transportation, and directed for you to the care of Madame de Nino, I +brought to town, and was to have handed over to a quondam schoolfellow +of yours, Miss Singleton, who was returning to Belport. Now you have +frequently honoured me by saying I have a head that can retain +nothing, and in this instance certainly the bag and the commission +slipped clean out of it. In packing my carpet-bag this morning, +preparatory to starting for Ireland, for which delectable spot of the +globe I am bound, what should I come upon but this unlucky parcel. +What was to be done? I called a hansom, and galloped to Miss +Singleton's address, invoking blessings on my forgetfulness all the +way. No result. Miss Singleton and the archdeacon had started for +Belport. I was walking down Brook Street, on my return, wondering what +I should do with the money, and who, amongst my fair friends in +Ireland, would come in for the bag, when I nearly ran over Fred St. +John, or he over me, coming out of Mivart's.' + +"'Why, where have you been buried?' said I. + +"'At Castle Wafer, for nearly the last month. And I am off tomorrow +for Paris. Any commands?' + +"'I should just think I had, if your route lies through Belport.' And +forthwith I delivered to him the unlucky parcel and its history. + +"So the long and short of it is, Rose, that you may expect to receive +your bag safe and sound. Not so sure, though, as to the day, for St. +John is proverbially uncertain in his movements. + +"I hope your friend Mademoiselle de Castella's health is improving. I +would beg my remembrance to her, but have no doubt I have long since +gone out of hers. She has my best wishes for her recovery. + +"Your affectionate brother, dear Rose, + +"F. Darling." + + +"What news for Adeline! Get out of the way, Mary Carr." + +"Rose," said Miss Carr, in a tone of remonstrance, "it will not do to +tell her." + +"Not tell her!" exclaimed Rose. + +"She is resigned and quiet now. Let her die in peace. News of him will +only excite and disturb her." + +"Don't talk to me! Let me go!" for Mary had laid hold of her dress to +detain her. + +"Rose, you are doing very wrong. She is almost in the last agony. +Earthly hopes and interests have flitted away." + +"You don't understand these things," rejoined Rose, with a curl upon +her lip--"how should you? Has she not for months been yearning to see +him--has not the pain of his cold neglect, his silence, his absence, +hastened her to the grave--and, now that he is coming, you would keep +it from her? Why, I tell you, Mary Carr, it will soothe her heart in +dying." + +She broke away impetuously, and went into the bed-chamber. Adeline +unclosed her eyes at her approach. What Rose said, as she leaned over +her and whispered, Mary Carr could not hear; but even in that last +hour, it brought the red hectic to her faded cheek. How wildly and +eagerly she looked up! + +"But it is too late," she sighed, in a troubled whisper--"it is too +late; I shall be gone. If he had but come a day earlier!" + +She closed her eyes again, and remained silent. The next words she +uttered, some time afterwards, were to Miss Carr. + +"Mary--you--that which Louise was saying today----" + +"Yes. I understand." + +"If mamma wishes it--do not prevent it. I--I--should like him to see +me--the wreck I am. And then he could come--you would bring him." + +Rose assented eagerly, before Mary Carr could speak. + +"And otherwise--if he had not been here--I have been reflecting--that +it would answer no end to oppose my mother--what can it matter to me, +then? If I--had a child--and she died--it is possible I might wish the +same. Don't interfere. But--you will bring _him?_" + +"Dearest Adeline, YES," cried Rose, "if he is to be found. I promise +it to you solemnly." + +"And now--dear friends of my girlhood, Rose! Mary!" she breathed, +holding out her hands, "I have but to say farewell. All things are +growing dim around me. You know not how grateful I have been for your +care of me. You will think of me sometimes in after-life." + +The pause that ensued was only broken by Rose's sobs. Mary Carr's +aching grief was silent. + +"Remember--you especially, Rose--that life--will not last for +ever--but--there is one beyond it; _that_ will. Endeavour to inherit +it. Will you not kiss me for the last time?" + +They leaned over her, one by one, their aching hearts beating against +the counterpane, the tears raining from their eyes. + +"You--will--come--to me--in heaven?" + +Barely had the words left her lips--and they were the last that either +of them heard her utter--when Louise, with a solemn face, full of +mighty importance, threw the corridor door wide open, and whispered +something which only the nurse caught. She jumped up, thrust her chair +behind her, and dropped down upon her knees where she stood. + +"What in the world has taken her?" ejaculated Rose. + +"Don't you understand?" was Mary's hurried answer, drawing Rose after +her, and escaping to the drawing-room. + +They saw it through the open door. The line of priests, in their white +robes, coming up the stairs; the silver crucifix borne before them; +the "Bon Dieu" sacredly covered from observation. Louise sank on her +knees in the passage, as the nurse had done in the room, and they +swept past her with solemn step, towards Adeline's chamber, looking +neither to the right nor left. They had come to bestow absolution, +according to the rights of the Roman Catholic faith--to administer to +her the Sacrament of the dying. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. +THE RECEPTION OF THE DEAD. + + +It was a sad day to describe--that next one. Adeline had died a little +before midnight, fully conscious to the last, and quite peaceful; all +her relatives, and they only, surrounding her bed. + +Not only a sad day to describe, but a strange one; and I hardly know +how to do it. You may look upon its chief incident as a disagreeable +fiction; but it was sober fact, truthful reality. Perhaps you have +never met with the like in your experience? I will transcribe it for +you as exactly and faithfully as I can. The anecdotes of the same +nature mentioned in the last chapter, were all facts too. + +Louise was right: the corpse of Adeline de Castella was to hold a +reception. + +It was rumoured in the house that Signor de Castella was averse to the +exhibition, but yielded the concession to his broken-hearted wife. Old +Madame de Beaufoy made no secret of being against it; every English +idea within her revolted from it. But Madame de Castella carried her +point. There was perhaps a negative soothing to her wild grief in the +reflection that before her beautiful and idolized child should be +hidden away for all time, the world would once more look upon her, +arrayed in all the pomp and splendour of life. + +Early in the morning--the printers had been set to work betimes--the +black-bordered death-circulars went forth to Belport. + + +"Monsieur et Madame de Castella; Madame de Beaufoy; Mademoiselle de +Beaufoy: + +"Ont l'honneur de vous faire part de la perte douloureuse qu'ils +viennent de faire en la personne de Mademoiselle Adeline Luisa de +Castella, leur fille, petite fille, et nièce; décédée à Belport le 8 +Janvier, à l'age de 19 ans. + +"Priez pour elle." + + +The invitations to the reception--or it may be more correct to say the +intimations that it was to be held, for no invitations went out--were +conveyed privately to the houses of friends by one or other of the +Castella servants; by word of mouth, not officially. And I can tell +you that it caused a commotion in the town, not forgotten yet. + +It was about midday when Silva came to a little boudoir on the +ground-floor, tenanted by Rose and Mary only, for the family kept +their chambers. He said one of Madame de Nino's maid-servants was +asking to see Miss Darling. + +"She can come in, Silva," said Rose, getting up from her low chair by +the fire, and passing her hand across her heavy eyes. + +The woman came in--Julie. She handed a packet to Rose, which the +latter divined at once must be the one her brother had written about. +"It was left at the school for you this morning, mademoiselle." + +"Who left it?" asked Rose. + +"A tall handsome Englishman, for I happened to answer the gate +myself," responded Julie. "He inquired for you, mademoiselle, and when +I said you were not with us now, but visiting in the town, he handed +in his card. You'll see it if you turn the parcel, Mademoiselle Rose: +I slipped it inside the string for safety, coming along." + +Rose scarcely needed to look at the card. She knew it was Frederick +St. John's. + +"Did he say where he was staying?--at what hotel?" + +"He said nothing else, mademoiselle, but just left the parcel and +card, with his compliments. Madame charged me to ask you, +mesdemoiselles, at what hour it would be best for her to come to see +the poor young lady?" continued Julie, dropping her voice. + +"It begins at two, Julie. Any time between that hour and five." + +"I wish I might come and see her too!" cried Julie. "I think us +servants who served her so long at Madame de Nino's, might be allowed +it." + +"I dare say you might," said Rose. "Of course, you might. Tell Madame +I say so." + +"Julie," interposed Mary Carr, "I shall see her, of course; it would +be looked upon as a slight in the house if I did not; but I can tell +you I would rather walk ten miles away from it." + +"But think of the beautiful sight it will be, Mademoiselle Carr!" +remonstrated Julie. "We hear she is to wear her real wedding-dress--to +be adorned with flowers and jewels. Ah, poor, poor thing!" broke off +the girl, giving way to her ready tears. "But a few months ago, well +and happy, and going to be married; and now, dead." + +"Mary," said Rose, when they were alone, "I shall go out and find him, +now I know he is in the town. Will you come?" + +Mary Carr hesitated. "Would it be a proper thing, Rose, for us to go +about to hotels, inquiring after gentlemen? I don't much like it." + +"We have to do many things in this life that we 'don't like,'" was +Rose's sarcastic answer. "Do you fear the hotels would eat you?" + +"It is _not_ the thing." + +"Not for you, I dare say, so you can stay away: I'm sorry I asked. I +promised that poor girl I would bring him to see her, were there any +possibility of doing it; and I _will_." + +"Then I shall go with you." + +"Oh," retorted Rose. + +The preparations for the great event were all but completed. _The +preparations!_ I feel nearly as ill, now that I am writing it, as I +felt then; and some years have gone by. The large salon, next to the +room in which she died, was laid out for the visitors, part of the +furniture removed, and a barrier placed down the middle--a space being +left clear at either end. It was a very long, large room, and so far +suitable. She--Adeline--was placed against the wall at the far end, +upright, standing, facing the company who were to come in, as if +waiting to receive them and give them welcome. I cannot tell you how +they fixed and supported her: I never asked then; I would as little +ask now; I knew none of the details; the broad facts were enough. + +As Mary Carr went creeping upstairs to put on her bonnet, she heard +voices in the death-chamber, and looked in. They were dressing +Adeline. The French nurse was standing before the upright corpse, +supporting it on her shoulder, her own face turned aside from it; and +the hairdresser stood behind, dressing the hair. Louise seemed to be +helping to hold the dead weight; Susanne handed hair-pins to the man. +If ever there was a revolting task on earth, that seemed one; and Mary +Carr turned sick as she hastily closed the door again, and leaned +against the wall to recover, if that might be, from her faintness. + +"What hotel do you mean to try?" she inquired, when she went out with +Rose into the broad daylight, a welcome relief from the darkened house +and what was being transacted in it. + +"I shall try them all in succession, until I find him," returned Rose. +"I think he must use the Hôtel des Bains. I know Frank does." + +Rose bent her steps towards that renowned hostelry, and turned boldly +into the yard. A man came forward with a cloth on his arm, waiter +fashion. + +"Monsieur de Saint John," she began, "est-il descendu ici?" + +The man stammered something in wretched French, "comprenais pas," and +Rose found he was a very native Englishman. + +Mr. St. John was staying there, but was going on to Paris in the +evening. He was out just then. + +"Out!" cried Rose, not expecting this check to her impatience. +"Where's he gone?" + +Of course the waiter could not say where. Rose intimated that her +business was of importance; that she must see him. The group stood +looking at each other in indecision. + +"If you would like to go to his room and wait, ladies, I have the +key," suggested the man. "It is only on the first floor." + +"What is to be done, Mary Carr?" cried Rose, tapping her foot in +pettish annoyance. + +"Don't ask me. It is your expedition, not mine." + +What Rose would have done, is uncertain. She was looking at the man in +hesitation, perhaps thinking of the room and the key, when who should +turn into the yard with a light quick step but Mr. St. John himself. + +Not changed--not a whit changed. The same high bearing, the same +distinguished form and face, the same frank manners, possessing for +all so irresistible a fascination. + +Rose, in a somewhat confused, anything but an explanatory, +greeting--for she would not tell him the truth of what she wanted, +lest he should decline it--said she had come to request him to +accompany her for a short time. He answered that he was at her +service, and in another moment the three were walking down the street +together. + +"Of all the sticklers for etiquette, I think Mary Carr's the worst," +began Rose. "I wonder she does not apply for a post as maid-of-honour +at court. The man asked us to go and wait in your rooms, and I should +have gone had you not come in. She looked fit to faint at the bare +idea." + +Mr. St. John laughed; his old low musical laugh. + +"Where would have been the harm?" went on Rose. "We are cousins, you +know." + +"Of course we are," said Mr. St. John. "I thought you both expected to +have been in England before this?" + +"We shall be there shortly now. At least, I shall. Mary, I believe, is +going first to Holland. And you? You are going to Paris, we hear." + +"Yes, but not to stay. My old roving love of travel has come upon me, +and I think I shall gratify it. A friend of mine leaves Paris next +week for a prolonged exploration of the Holy Land, and I feel inclined +to accompany him." + +"It does not look as though he were on the point of marrying Sarah +Beauclerc," thought Rose to herself. For a wonder, she did not put the +question. + +But not a word of inquiry from him after Adeline! And yet, only a few +months before, they had been on the nearest and dearest terms, but a +few hours removed from the closest tie that can exist in this +world--that of man and wife. Oh, the changes that take place in this +transitory world of ours. _She_ was dead, sleeping well after life's +fitful fever; and he was walking there in all the pomp and pride of +existence, haughtily indifferent, never unbending so far as to ask +whether she was married to another, whether she was living or dead. + +And so they reached the residence of Signor de Castella, and entered +the courtyard, St. John unconscious where he was going. He had never +gone to the house but once, and then it was at night, and in Sir Sandy +Maxwell's carriage. The hall-door was placed wide open. Silva stood on +one side of it, bareheaded, another servant opposite to him, and as +the various visitors passed between them, they bowed to each group in +silence. It was the manner of receiving them. Mr. St. John, talking +with Rose, advanced close to the door; but when he caught sight of +Silva, he drew back. The old man looked at him with a pleasant look: +St. John had always been a favourite with the Castella servants. Mary +Carr left them then, and ran upstairs. + +"Why have you brought me here?" he demanded of Rose. "This is Signor +de Castella's!" + +"I have not brought you without a motive, Mr. St. John. Pray come in +with me." + +"You must excuse me," he said, very coldly. + +"I cannot," answered Rose. "Do you think I should go dancing after you +to the hotels, shocking Mary Carr and the waiters out of their notions +of propriety, without an urgent motive? Pray come along: we are +obstructing the entrance." + +Mr. St. John indeed saw that a group of several ladies were gathered +close behind him, waiting to go in. He stepped inside the hall--he had +no other alternative--and so allowed them to pass. They moved +noiselessly towards the broad staircase; but he drew aside with Rose. + +"Rose, this is beyond a joke," he said. "Why did you bring me here? I +will wish you good morning." + +"Indeed," she murmured, clasping her agitated hands on his arm, in her +fear lest, after all, he should escape her, "this is no joke. Do you +suppose Mary Carr would lend herself to one? and she came with me. +Pray come upstairs with me, Mr. St. John." + +"You forget," he began, in answer more to her evident excitement than +to her words, "that--putting aside any objection I may experience--my +presence here may not be acceptable to the family." + +"You will not see the family. They are not visible today." + +"Who are all these people going up the stairs?" he said, looking on in +amazement, as more groups were silently bowed in by Silva. "It seems +like a reception." + +"It is one," said Rose: "nevertheless the family do not hold it. There +comes Madame de Nino! She is directing those strict eyes of hers +towards us, and I shall catch a sharp lecture for standing whispering +with you. Do come, Mr. St. John." + +"I cannot understand this, Rose. These visitors, flocking to the +house, while, you say, the family are not visible! Why do they come, +then? Why do you wish me to go up?" + +"There's--there's--a show upstairs today," stammered Rose "That is +why they come. And I want you to see it." + +"A flower-show?" said Mr. St. John, somewhat mockingly. + +"A faded one," murmured Rose, as she took his hand, and drew him +towards the staircase. + +His manner was hesitating, his step reluctant; and but for the young +lady's pertinacity, which he could not resist without downright +rudeness, he had certainly retreated. Involuntarily, he could not tell +why or wherefore, the remembrance of a past scene came rushing to his +mind; when he, Frederick St. John, had in like manner forced a +resisting spirit up the stairs and into the room of a college-boy who +was dying. + +At the head of the stairs they met Mary Carr, who held out a small +sealed packet. + +"A commission was intrusted to me yesterday, Mr. St. John," she +said, "that I would deliver this into your own hands. I have also a +message----" + +"Which you can give him presently," interrupted Rose. + +He glanced at the packet; he glanced at the seal, "A.L. de C.;" he +looked at the other side, at the strange, sprawling address. + +"Not a very elegant superscription," he observed, carelessly, as he +slipped the parcel into the breast-pocket of his coat. "I don't +recognize the handwriting." + +"Yet you were once familiar with it, Mr. St. John." + +"Oh, never!" answered he. "Not, certainly, to my recollection." + +They were now at the door of the drawing-room. Rose, feeling a sick +terror at the thought of what she was going to behold, laid her hand +momentarily on Mr. St. John, as if doubting her own capability to +support herself. + +"Are you ill?" he inquired, looking at her pale face. + +"A slight faintness," she murmured. "It will go off." + +It was in front of them, at the other end of the room as they entered. +_It!_ But they could not see it distinctly for a moment together, so +many persons were pushing on before them. Mr. St. John, who was taller +than most persons present, obtained a more distinct view than Rose. + +"Who is that--standing yonder--receiving the company?" he asked +hastily. "It looks like no; it cannot be. _Is_ it Adeline?" + +"Yes, it is Adeline de Castella," replied Rose, under her breath, her +teeth chattering. "She is holding her reception." + +Adeline _de Castella_. Did the name strike oddly upon Mr. St. John? +But if it did, how then came he not to ask why it was not Adeline de +la Chasse? + +"You have deceived me, Miss Darling," he said in severe tones; "you +assured me the family were not here. What means all this?" + +"They are not here," whispered Rose, whose face and lips were now as +white as those of the dead. + +"Not here! There stands Adeline." + +"Yes, true; Adeline," she murmured. "But she will not speak to you. +You--you will pass and look at her: as we look at a picture. You can't +go back now, if you would: see the throng. Trust me for once," she +added, as she seized his arm: "Adeline will not speak to you--she will +not, as I live and breathe." + +Partly from the extreme difficulty of retreating, for they were in the +line of advance, not in that formed for returning according to the +arrangements of the room, partly in compliance with Rose Darling's +agitated earnestness, and partly yielding to his own curiosity, which +was becoming intensely excited, Mr. St. John continued his way, ever +and anon catching a glimpse of the rigid form opposite, before which +all were filing. + +"It cannot be Adeline!" he exclaimed, involuntarily. "And yet it is +like her! Who is it? _What_ is it? How strange she looks!" + +"She has been ill, you see," shivered Rose, "and is much attenuated. +But it is Adeline." + +They were nearly up with her. Rose, in her faintness, not having yet +dared to look at the sight, clung to the arm of Mr. St. John. He was +gazing on her--Adeline; and his face, never very rosy, had turned of a +yet paler hue than common. + +Oh, the rich and flowing robes in which they had decked her! white +satin, covered with costly lace; white ribbons, white flowers, +everything about her white; the festive attire of a bride adorning the +upright dead, and that dead worn and wasted! A narrow band of white +satin was passed tightly under the chin, to keep the jaw from falling, +but it was partly hidden by the hair and the wreath of flowers, and +the veil that floated behind her. Never, in health, had those +beautiful ringlets been seen on Adeline as they were set forth now, to +shade those hollow cheeks: but all the richness of her dress and the +flowing hair, all the flowers and the costly lace, could not conceal +the ghastliness of the features, or soften the fixed stare of the +glazed eyes. Yet, in the contour of the face, there was something +still inexpressibly beautiful. To a stranger entering the room, +unsuspecting the truth, as Mr. St. John, she looked like one fearfully +ill, fearfully strange: and how was Mr. St. John, who had never heard +of the custom, to divine the truth? Did the idea occur to him that +Adeline was standing in the very spot where he had first met her, a +year before, when the French marigold in his button-hole was +accidentally caught by her? Did the strange gloomy silence +strike ominously upon him; putting him in mind of a funeral or a +lying-in-state, rather than a gay reception? + +He went close up, and halted in front of her: Rose by him, shaking +from head to foot. Forgetting, probably, what Rose had said, that she +would not speak to him, or else obeying the impulse of the moment, he +mechanically held out his hand to Adeline: but there was no answering +impulse on her part. + +He stood rooted to the spot, his eyes running rapidly over her. They +glanced down on the flounces of the rich lace dress, they wandered up +to her face--it was the first close, full view he had obtained of it. +He saw the set, rigid features, the unmistakable stare of the glassy +eye; and, with a rushing sensation of sickening awe and terror, the +terrible truth burst upon his brain. + +That it was not Adeline de Castella, but her CORPSE which stood there. + +He was a strong-minded man--a man little given to betray his feelings, +or to suffer them to escape beyond his own control: yet he staggered +now against the wall by her side, in what seemed a fainting-fit. Rose, +alarmed for the consequences of what she had done, burst into tears, +knelt down, and began to rub his hands. + +"Open the windows--give some air here," called out little Monsieur +Durante, who had come all the way from Ostrohove to see the sight. +"Here's a gentleman in an attack." + +"Nothing of the sort," returned an Englishman, who made one of the +company; "he has nearly fainted, that's all. There's no cause for +alarm, young lady. I suppose he came in, not knowing what he was going +to see, and the shock overpowered him. It _is_ an odd fashion, this. +See: he revives already." + +Consciousness came to Mr. St. John. He rose slowly, shook himself out +of a shuddering-fit, and with a last wild yearning glance at the dead, +fell into the line of the retreaters. But it was Miss Carr who now +detained him: Adeline's message had yet to be given. + +"The address on the packet was in _her_ handwriting, Mr. St. John," +she whispered; "she wrote it yesterday, only a few hours before she +died She charged me to say that everything is there, except the ring, +which has never been off her finger since you placed it there, and +will be buried with her; and to tell you that she had been ever +faithful to you; as in life, so unto death." + +Mr. St. John listened, and nodded in reply, with the abstracted air of +one who answers what he does not hear, touching unconsciously the +breast-pocket of his coat, where lay the packet. + +"There was something else," continued she, "but I dare not venture to +breathe that here. Later, perhaps?" + +Again he nodded with the same look of abstraction, never speaking; and +began to follow in the wake of the crowd, who had taken their fill of +gazing, and were making their way from the room. + +"He is a fine young man, though," exclaimed M. Durante, looking after +St. John with eyes of admiration. "But he is very pale: he has +scarcely recovered himself." + +"To think that he should have dropped at seeing a corpse, just as one +might drop a stone, a fine strong man like him!" responded a +neighbouring chemist, who had stepped in to have a look at the +reception. "Qu'ils sont drôles, ces Anglais-là!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. +UNAVAILING REPENTANCE. + + +Rose Darling struggled out of the room with Mr. St. John: not caring +to remain in it, possibly, without his sheltering presence. They went +downstairs with the crowd--all silent and well-behaved, but still a +crowd--and then Rose drew him into the small snug room that had been +her abiding place and Mary's for the day. + +Mr. St. John sat down, and leaned his head upon his hand. In a shock +like this, he could not make believe not to feel it, or to gloss it +over; indeed he was an independent man at all times, utterly refusing +to give in to the false artificialities of society. Rose slipped away, +and brought him a glass of wine; but he shook his head, declining to +take it. Mary Carr had not come with them; it turned out afterwards +that she thought he had left the house. + +"When did she die?" was the first question he presently asked. + +"Last night; a few minutes before twelve." + +"Just as I was stepping on board the steamer at Folkestone," he +murmured to himself. "Why is she--_there_, Rose?--dressed--in that +form? Are they mad?" + +"It is a custom they have in France, as it seems; but I had never +before heard of it," answered Rose. "Hark at the people passing up +still!" + +A shiver of remembrance took him, but it was conquered immediately. +Rose untied the black string of her straw bonnet, and put it on the +table. + +"I suppose we are both in mourning for the same person," she remarked, +in allusion to the narrow band of crape on his hat: "little George St. +John." + +"Yes," he shortly answered. "What did she die of?" + +"Of consumption: at least, that is what the doctors would tell you. I +won't say anything about a broken heart." Mr. St. John made no reply. +Rose resumed: "From the moment that blood-vessel burst, there has +been, I suppose, no real hope, no possibility of cure. But she rallied +so greatly, and seemed so well, that I, for one, believed in it." He +looked at Rose; the words seemed to arouse his curiosity. "When did +she burst a blood-vessel?" + +"It was at Beaufoy. It was--why, yes, it was the very day you were +last there, Mr. St. John, almost in your sight. You remember the +morning you quitted the house, and never came back again?--did you +notice Adeline running down the steps of the colonnade after you, +imploring you to stop?--did you notice that she sank down on the +grass, as if from fatigue?" + +"I think I did," he answered, in allusion to the last question. "I +know she followed me down the steps." + +"It was then the blood-vessel broke; through emotion, no doubt. Had +you but looked back once again, you might have seen what was amiss. I +never shall forget the sight. Just at first I had thought her foot +slipped and threw her down, next I thought she was kneeling for a +joke: but when I reached her, I saw what it was. One minute longer, +and you would have seen the whole house gathered round her on the +lawn. She was got indoors, and the doctors were sent for. What a house +it was! She thought she was dying; and I believe the chiefest wish of +her heart then was to see you." + +"Why did you not send for me?" + +"We did send. I wrote to you, and Louise took the note at once to the +Lodge. But you had already gone--turning Madame Baret's brains upside +down with the shock." + +"You might have sent it after me to England." + +"Of course I might--if I had only known you were gone to England. How +was I to know it? I might be wishing to get a note to some one in the +moon, but not see my way clear to writing the address. It was weeks, +and weeks, and weeks, Mr. St. John, before we ever heard a syllable of +you, whether you were in England or in any other part of the known +world, or whether you were at the bottom of the sea." + +"And she never married de la Chasse?" + +The words seemed spoken as a remark, not as a question. Rose, who +seemed to have a touch of one of her ironical moods coming on, +answered it: + +"Would you have had her marry him when death had set in? After the +doctors had met that day, it was known throughout the house that +nothing could save her. At least, they said so. The old malady of the +spring had but been lying dormant; it was in her still; and the +terrible trouble she went through had brought it forth again. Under +the very happiest circumstances, had she married you, even--and I +suppose that might have been _her_ idea of happiness," added Rose, +satirically--"she could not have lived long. De la Chasse saw her for +a few minutes on the day they were to have been married, and expressed +himself very much concerned, and all that, as a matter of course; I +don't suppose he broke his heart over it." + +"And she has been ill ever since?" + +"Ever since. The disease has fluctuated, as you may imagine; some +weeks she would be at death's door, some weeks comparatively well; but +it has all the while been progressing on gradually to the ending. +Frederick St. John"--and Rose stepped up to him in her excitement--"I +don't believe you were ever absent for one minute from her mind; by +day and by night it was filled with that miserable love for you; and +the yearning wish, destined not to be gratified, was ever upon +her--that you would come and see her before she died." + +"_Why_ did you not let me know it?--why could you not have written to +me?" he asked, in a sharp tone of pain. + +"For one thing, I tell you, I did not know where to write. For +another, Adeline would not have let me. She had an idea that you did +not care to come to her--that you perhaps would not, if summoned. And +I"--Rose paused a moment, and angrily compressed her repentant +lips--"I could wish my tongue had been bitten out for a share I took +in the past. There's not the least doubt that one ingredient in +Adeline's cup of bitterness was worse than all the rest--the thought +of Sarah Beauclerc." + +He uttered an exclamation. + +"And of your love for her. And I say I wish Sarah Beauclerc had been +smothered, and I with her, if you like, before I had ever breathed her +name to Adeline. But for that, but for deeming that she was your true +love, and would some time be your wife, Adeline would have sent to the +far ends of the earth after you for a parting interview." + +He sat, leaning his head upon his fingers, looking into the fire. + +"What a miserable business it seems altogether! Nothing but +cross-purposes, the one with the other. Sarah Beauclerc!" + +"Are you still engaged--perhaps at a moment like this I may be +pardoned for asking it--to Sarah Beauclerc?" + +"I never was engaged to Sarah Beauclerc. I had once a sort of passing +fancy for her; I don't know that it was more. I have had no thought of +her, or of any one else, since I parted from Adeline." + +"In a letter I had from London, not very long ago," resumed Rose, +slowly, "your name was coupled with Miss Sarah Beauclerc's. It said +you were her shadow." + +"Who said it?" + +"Never mind. It was a lady." + +"Your correspondent laboured under a mistake, Rose; you may tell her +so, for her satisfaction. Sarah Beauclerc will very soon be a wife, +but not mine." + +"Who is she going to marry?" + +"Lord Raynor." + +Rose exhausted her surprise in ejaculations. She had thought Sarah +Beauclerc would be Frederick St. John's chosen wife; had felt utterly +certain of it in her own mind. He sat in silence, never heeding her. +Remembrances of the past were crowding upon him. That he had been very +near loving Sarah Beauclerc, was indisputable: and but for the meeting +with Adeline, this might have come to fruition: there was no knowing +now. At Lady Revel's--the evening spoken of to Rose by Miss Mary Anne +Darling--he had learnt that she, Sarah, was going to be married to the +Viscount Raynor, a man who, as Captain Budd, had been attached to her +for years. She herself told him of this. In her calm, cold, cutting +manner, she spoke of _his_ contemplated marriage to Mademoiselle de +Castella: was any covert reproof intended in this? any secret +intimation that _that_ justified her own engagement? However that +might be, all chance of their being one in this world, had any such +chance ever existed, was at an end; and Frederick St. John had no +regret left in regard to it. All his regrets were for another. + +"If Adeline had but known it!" murmured Rose, genuine tears of +vexation filling her eyes. "Did you not know she was dying, Mr. St. +John?" + +"No. I knew nothing about her." + +"Have you been in England ever since you quitted us that day?" + +"I went straight to London from Beaufoy, saw my brother Isaac, +explained matters to him, and then accompanied him to Castle Wafer. +Subsequently I went to Scotland, deer-stalking; running over once to +London from thence, to see my mother. Before Christmas, I was again +for a week in London, and then I escorted my mother to Castle Wafer. +Now you know what my movements have been, Rose. I heard nothing of +Adeline." + +"Perhaps you kept yourself out of the way of hearing of her?" + +"I did." + +"That was your temper!" + +"Just so. Our faults generally bring their own punishment." + +"We heard you were in an awful passion at Madame Baret's," remarked +Rose, who plunged into things irrelevant without mercy. + +"I thought I had cause to be. I thought so then. I do not know the +reason now why she rejected me." + +"Mary Carr will tell you that. Ill-fated Adeline! She would have given +her poor life to have been allowed to whisper it to you then, to +justify herself in your eyes. The fact is," added Rose, after a pause, +"the Church interfered to prevent the marriage, and Adeline was sworn +to silence on the crucifix. _I_ did not know it until today. She +thought of you until the last, Mr. St. John, and in her dying moments +got permission from her father for the truth to be disclosed to you. +Mary was charged with it." + +Mr. St. John's eyes blazed up with an angry light. "Then I know that +was the work of Father Marc!" + +"I dare say it was. He was very fond of Adeline, and no doubt thought +her marriage with a heretic would be perdition here and hereafter. I +don't see that you can blame him: you would have done the same in his +place, had you been true to your creed. Father Marc's one of the best +gossipers living. We saw a great deal of him in Adeline's sick-room, +after you left. I fell in love with the charming old père." + +Would she ever be serious! The question might have crossed Mr. St. +John at a less bitter moment. + +"And I think his gossip did Adeline good," continued Rose. "It was a +sort of break to her misery. How could you have doubted her--have +doubted for a single moment, whatever your passionate rage might have +been, that her whole love was yours?" + +How indeed? But perhaps in his inmost heart he never had doubted it. +He sat there now, bearing the bitter weight of remembrance as he best +might, his eyes looking back into the past, his delicate lips drawn in +to pain. + +"They have no portrait of her," went on Rose, not in her +mercilessness, but in her giddy, gossiping lightness. "And the one you +took of her, you defaced." + +"Don't, Rose!" + +The words came from him with a wail. His remorse wanted no feeding; it +was already as great as he well knew how to bear. Rose was not quite +without feeling, and the words and their tone checked her. She sat +thinking how unkind she had been, and began flirting the strings of +her bonnet about, as it lay near her on the table. + +But it was not in her nature to remain silent long. Something, perhaps +the black ribbon, took her thoughts to another subject: and in truth +she did not like to say more of Adeline. + +"Does it not seem like a fatality? All three of them to have died, one +after the other!" + +Mr. St. John came slowly out of his pain, and looked at her for an +explanation. "Three of whom?" + +"Oh, I was thinking of Alnwick. Mr. Carleton St. John first and then +his two boys. I suppose you have inherited?" + +"My brother has. Yes, it is a very sad thing. Quite a fatality, as you +say." + +"What fortune has Charlotte now? Much?" + +"I really do not know. I fear not much." + +"She reckoned so surely--I know she did--upon being Lady St. John!" + +"That seems to be a chief portion of life's business, I think," he +remarked: "the reckoning upon things that never come to pass." + +"I suppose you have not seen her since?" + +"Mrs. Carleton St. John? Yes, I have. I heard she was staying with +Mrs. Darling in town, the week I spent there before Christmas, and I +called." + +"How was she looking? How did she seem?" asked Rose, rather eagerly. + +"She seemed quite well, and she looked well. Very thin: but in good +health and spirits." + +"There was no--excitement in her manner, was there?" + +"On the contrary. She struck me as being one of the calmest, +quietest-mannered women I ever saw." + +"Did you think her pretty?" + +"No. I thought her handsome." + +"What did mamma say to you about me?--and Margaret and Mary Anne? No +good, I know. They are always abusing me." + +"I did not see them. Mrs. Carleton St. John said they had all gone out +to call on some old friend." + +"You had no loss. Mamma you know; I don't say anything against her, +though it was a shame of her to keep me at school so long; but Mary +Anne and Margaret are the primmest old creatures you can picture. Why, +they are going on for thirty! I sent them over a cap apiece the other +day, in return for a little interference of theirs. Lottie Singleton +took the parcel. Didn't it make them wild!" + +A faint smile parted his lips. + +"Where is Charlotte going to live?" resumed Rose. "Have you heard?" + +"I have heard nothing. I believe my brother wrote to beg of her to go +back to Alnwick, and remain there as long as she chose. But she +declined." + +"I know one thing--that I hope she'll not live with us," cried Rose, +tossing back her golden curls. "Charlotte always was so domineering, +and now--especially---- You are _sure_ you observed no undue +excitement of manner?" she broke off, after a pause. + +"Why do you ask it? To me she appeared to be almost unnaturally calm." + +"I think I'll tell you why," said thoughtless Rose. And forthwith she +disclosed to Mr. St. John all she had heard from Nurse Brayford. It +was lamentably imprudent of her, without doubt; but she meant no harm. +And the notion she herself had gathered from the story was, that the +trouble had temporarily touched Charlotte's brain, just as a passing +fever will touch it. That was all the real thought of her heart; but +her expressions were exaggerated as usual, meaning less than they +implied. It had the effect of fully arousing Frederick St. John from +his own care: and Rose was surprised to see him make so much of it. + +"That Charlotte--that your sister at the time of the child's death was +_mad!_" he repeated. "Surely not, Rose!" + +"It was nothing less. How else could she fancy she saw all sorts of +visions of the child? Not her child; I don't mean him: the little +heir, Benja. He was always walking before her with the lighted toy, +the church; the one that caused his death, you know. She had awful +fits of this terror, frightening Georgy nearly to death." + +Mr. St. John made no reply. His eyes were fixed on Rose, and he was +revolving what she said. + +"It was Mrs. Brayford told me this; the nurse who was with Adeline in +the spring. You heard that she had gone from Belport with Mrs. +Carleton St. John to watch George. But I don't think the woman told me +quite all," added Rose, casting her thoughts back: "she seemed to +reserve something. At least, so it struck me." + +"It must have been a sort of brain fever," remarked Mr. St. John. + +"It must have been downright madness," returned Rose. "They hold a +curious custom, it seems, in one of the towns of France: on St. +Martin's Eve every one turns out at night with horns and lighted paper +lanterns, which they parade about the streets for a couple of hours. +It happened that Charlotte was there this very night: she had gone to +the town to take the steamer for London. The lanterns were of various +forms and devices, many of them being churches; and Charlotte was in +her room when the show began, and saw it all. She had a sort of fit +from terror," continued Rose in a whisper. "She was quite mad when she +came to, fancying it was a thousand Benjas coming after her to torment +her. Prance had always locked Brayford out of the room before, when +these attacks came on; but she couldn't do it that night, for +Charlotte had to be held; she was raving." + +"It is very strange," said Mr. St. John. + +"That is why I asked you whether you saw anything unusual in her +manner,--any excitement. Of course I can't write and ask; I can't hint +at it. They _say_ Charlotte is well, but if she were not I know they +would never tell me, and I like to be at the top and bottom of +everything. I'm mamma's true daughter for that." + +"Rose, I wish you had not told me this." + +"Why?" exclaimed Rose, opening her eyes very wide. + +He seemed to have spoken involuntarily. The retort and its surprised +tone woke him from his dream, and all his senses were in full play +again. + +"It is not pleasant to hear of women suffering. I can't bear it. Your +sister must have gone through a great deal." + +"Oh, poor thing, yes she must. I'll not call her hard names again. And +I do hope and trust the brain trouble has really left her." / + +"She seemed quite well. I saw no trace whatever of the mind's being +affected. It must have been a sort of temporary fever. Rose, were I +you, I think I would never talk of this." + +"I don't. I only said it to you. I assure you I wouldn't say a word of +it to mamma to be made Empress tomorrow. She'd box my ears for me, as +she used to do when I was a little girl." + +Mr. St. John rose to leave. "There's nothing more you have to say, +Rose?" + +She knew as well as he that he alluded to Adeline. "There was nothing +more, just then," she answered. "Mary Carr would, no doubt, see him +later." + +He shook hands with Rose and was leaving the room, when Miss Carr came +in. She uttered an exclamation of surprise. + +"I thought you had gone," she said. "Will you come with me and see old +Madame de Beaufoy? I was in her room just now, and told her you had +been here; she thought I ought to have taken you up to her; and she +cried when she said how great a favourite you had been in those happy +days, now gone by for ever." + +With some hesitation--for he did not care to see the family again, +especially on that day--Mr. St. John suffered himself to be conducted +to her room. The show people were still silently jostling each other +on the staircase, passing up and down it. + +Madame de Beaufoy was in her chamber: it is the custom you know to +receive visitors in the bed-chambers in France: a handsomely furnished +room, the counterpane a blue satin, richly quilted, and the large +square pillows, lying on it, of the finest cambric edged with choice +Mechlin lace. As she held Mr. St. John's hand in greeting and drew him +to the fire, the tears coursed freely down the fine old face. + +"Ah, my friend, my friend!" she said, speaking in English, "if they +had but suffered her to marry you, she might not be lying low this +day. A hundred times I have said to Maria, that she should not have +been severed from Frederick St. John. But Maria, poor thing, had no +hand in it; she is not a dévote; it was the Church that did it. And we +must suppose all's for the best, though it sacrificed her." + +No tears shone in his eyes, his grief was too deep for that. It could +be read in every line of his face, of his rigid features. + +"I wish to Heaven things had been allowed to take a different course," +he answered in low tones. "But they tell me that no care, no amount of +happiness could have saved her." + +"Tush!" returned the old lady. "The greatest mistake they made was in +not taking her to a warmer climate while they had the opportunity. Had +that been done, and had you been allowed to marry her, she might have +enjoyed years of life. I don't say she could have lived to be old: +they insist upon it that she could not: but she would have had some +enjoyment of this world, poor child, and not have been cut off from +it, as she is now." + +The thought crossed him--and it came in spite of his regrets, and he +could not help it--that all things might still be for the best. Had +she lived to bear him children--and to entail upon them her fragility +of constitution---- + +"You did love her, Mr. St. John." + +"With my whole heart and soul." + +"Ay, ay; and she was bound up in you, I don't see why you should have +been parted--and we all liked you. For my part," continued the +tolerant old lady--"but you know it doesn't do to avow such sentiments +to the world--I think one religion is as good as another, provided +people do their duty in it. She had as sure a chance of going to +heaven as your wife, as she had if she had married that de la Chasse, +whom I never liked." + +"Indeed I trust so." + +"I became a Roman Catholic to please my husband and his family, but I +was just as near to heaven when I was a Protestant. And I say that +Adeline need not have been sacrificed. You have been in to see her, I +hear." + +"Yes. Not knowing what I was going to see." + +"Was ever such a barbarous custom heard of! But Maria would listen to +no sort of reason: and Agnes upheld her. I wonder the Signor allowed +it. They will not get me in. I shall see the dear lost one in her +coffin tonight; but I will not see her the actor in all that +mummery." + +The old lady was interrupted by the entrance of Madame de Castella. +She did not know St. John was there; and her first surprised movement +was that of retreat. But a different feeling came over her, and she +stepped forward sobbing, holding out both her hands. + +A few broken sentences of mutual sorrow, and then the scene became +disagreeably painful to Mr. St. John. Madame de Castella's sobs were +loud and hysterical, her mother's tears rained down quietly. He took +his leave almost in silence. + +"Would you like to attend the funeral?" asked the old lady. "It takes +place tomorrow." + +"Tomorrow!" he echoed: the haste striking upon his English ideas as +unseemly. + +"Tomorrow at eleven." + +"Perhaps Mr. St. John would not like it?" interposed Madame de +Castella between her sobs. "The Baron de la Chasse is coming for it." + +"And what if he is!" cried her mother. "Surely their animosities must +have ended now. Be here a quarter before eleven, my friend, if it +would be any satisfaction to you to see the last of her." + +Ah yes, all animosities had ended then, and St. John did not fail to +be there. It was one of the grandest funerals ever seen in Belport. +Amidst the long line of priests was Father Marc: and he recognized St. +John and saluted him courteously and cordially, as if entirely +oblivious of the past, and of the share he had taken in it. Signor de +Castella walked bareheaded after the coffin; de la Chasse and another +near friend were next. St. John was lost amid the crowd of followers, +and his companion was Monsieur le Comte le Coq de Monty. + +"So happy to have the honour of meeting you again, though it is upon +this melancholy occasion!" cried the Comte, who was very fond of +talking and had hastened to fasten himself on Mr. St. John. "What a +sad thing that consumption is! And de la Chasse is here! How he must +feel her loss! the engaging, beautiful demoiselle that she was!" + +The procession moved on. To the church first, and then to the grave. +But amidst all its pomp and show, amidst the tall candles, the +glittering crucifixes, the banners of silver and black, amidst the +array of priests and their imposing vestments; through the low murmurs +of their soothing chant, lost in the echoes of the streets; even +beyond that one dark mass, the chief feature of the pageant, borne by +eight men with measured tread, through his regrets for what was in +it--his buried love--there came something else, totally foreign to all +this, and uncalled for by will, floating through the mind of Mr. St. +John. + +The curious tale whispered to him by Rose Darling the previous day, +touching the fancies of Mrs. Carleton St. John, was connecting itself, +in a haunting fashion, with certain words he had heard dropped by +Honour at Castle Wafer. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. +SOME MONTHS ONWARDS. + + +It was August weather. The glowing sunlight of the day had faded, and +the drawing-rooms were lighted at Castle Wafer. A small group of +guests had gathered there; it may almost be said a family group; had +been spending there some five or six weeks. Changes have taken place +since you met them last. Its master has come into the inheritance so +coveted by Mrs. Carleton St. John for her own child: and he is also in +stronger health than he has been for years. Look at him as he sits in +the remotest corner of the room, his table covered with books and +bearing a small shaded reading-lamp. But he is not reading now; he is +listening with a fond smile to a charming girl in white evening +attire, as she sits close to him and talks in a low voice. Her great +eyes, of a blue grey, are raised to his face, and the gold chain +glistens on her fair white shoulders as she bends towards him, and she +seems to be petitioning some favour; for he keeps shaking his head in +the negative, as if to tantalize her; but the kindly look in his eyes, +and the sweet smile on his face are very conspicuous. You have met her +before: it is Miss Beauclerc, the daughter of the Dean of Westerbury. + +Unpleasantly conspicuous, that smile and that tender look, to one of +the distant group. The glittering chandelier--and only one chandelier +has been lighted tonight, as is usual on these quiet evenings--is +reflected as in a thousand prisms by the wax-lights, and the glitter +shines full on the face of this one lady, who sits back in the satin +chair unnoticed, her dark eyes disagreeably fierce and eager. Is she a +young girl? She really looks like one, in her black silk dress with +its low simple body and short sleeves, edged only with a narrow +ruching of white crape; looks almost as young as Miss Beauclerc. But +she is not young; she has passed her thirtieth year, and more than +that; and you have met her before, for she is the widow of George +Carleton St. John of Alnwick. They call her here at Castle Wafer Mrs. +Carleton, in a general way, as her additional name would interfere +with Mrs. St. John's. We had better do the same. Sometimes they call +her Charlotte; and she likes that best, for she hates the name of +Carleton, simply because it was the name of her late husband's first +wife. + +Right underneath the chandelier, both of them at some sort of work, +sit Mrs. St. John and Mrs. Darling. Mrs. St. John has recovered the +accident of a year ago; it left a languor upon her which she is rather +too fond of indulging. Isaac St. John is glad that visitors should be +staying at Castle Wafer, for they divert his stepmother, whom he +greatly esteems and respects, from her own fancied ailments. That +accident would seem to have aged her ten years, and you would take her +to be nearly sixty. Lastly, talking and laughing at the open glass +doors, now halting inside, now stepping forth on the terrace in the +balmy summer's night, are Rose Darling and Frederick St John. +Frederick has been but a few days arrived, after an absence of many +months, chiefly spent in the Holy Land; the rest have been for six +weeks at Castle Wafer. + +Six weeks, and they went for only one! Isaac pressed the visit upon +Mrs. Carleton, whose position he much pitied, and politely invited +Mrs. Darling to accompany her with any of the Miss Darlings she might +like to bring. Mrs. Darling accepted the invitation and brought Rose. +The other two were staying with old Mrs. Darling in Berkshire, who was +flourishing and seemed likely to live to be a hundred. It almost +seemed to Isaac St. John, in his refined sensitiveness, that he had +committed a wrong on Charlotte St. John, by succeeding to the property +that would have been her husband's and then her son's, had they lived. +Could he have done it with any sort of delicacy, he had made over to +her a handsome yearly income. Indeed, he had hinted at this to Mrs. +Darling, but that lady said she felt sure it could not be done with +Charlotte's proud spirit. Isaac hoped still: and meanwhile he pressed +Charlotte to stay with them at Castle Wafer, not to run away, as her +mother talked of doing. Mrs. Darling had been talking of it this month +past; and her departure was now really fixed for the morrow. She was +going with Rose to Paris; but Charlotte had accepted the invitation to +remain. + +Her fate really deserved sympathy. Bereft of her husband, of her +cherished son, bereft not only of the fortune but also of the position +she had thought to secure in marrying the master of Alnwick, she had +perforce retired into a very humble individual again, who could not +keep up much of an establishment of her own. In health she was +perfectly well: all that dark time seemed to have passed away as a +dream: she was better-looking than ever, and the inward fever that +used to consume her and render her a very shadow, did not waste her +now. Mrs. Darling had spoken to her seriously of what her future plans +should be: that lady herself would probably have desired nothing +better than to keep her favourite daughter with her always: but her +other daughters rose rather rebelliously against it, and some +unpleasantness had been the result. + +Rose spoke out freely, as was her custom. If Charlotte did remain with +them, she should not stand any domineering; and Mary Anne and Margaret +Darling intimated that they should not leave grandmamma until home was +free for them. Charlotte had brought this ill-will upon herself by the +very line of conduct Rose spoke openly about--domineering. Mrs. +Darling was a little perplexed: but she was an easy-tempered woman, +and was content to let trifles take their chance. There was no +immediate hurry: Charlotte's visit at Castle Wafer was to be extended, +against the wish of Mrs. Darling, and might be continued for an +indefinite time. Who knew but that Charlotte might captivate its +bachelor master? _And who knew but Charlotte herself was entertaining +the same possibility?_ Mrs. Darling feared so; and, in all cases where +Charlotte was concerned, she was a keen observer. What, though Isaac +St. John had a hump upon his back, he was, apart from that, a lovable +man--a man that even an attractive woman might covet for her own. + +Mrs. Darling's employment this evening was some intricate working of +gold beads on canvas. And every time she looked off to take up a bead +upon the long needle, she seized the opportunity to glance at +Charlotte. How entirely still she was!--leaning back in the armchair; +her delicate hands lying motionless on her lap. But for the eyes, +directed to one part of the room, and the angry glare beginning now to +shine in them, Mrs. Darling had deemed her entirely at rest. She, Mrs. +Darling, moved her chair, apparently to get some better light for the +beads, and the change of position enabled her to look towards the spot +herself. + +Miss Beauclerc, her fair face bending forward in its eagerness, her +wide open, fine grey eyes raised to his, had laid her two hands on +Isaac St. John's; and he had playfully made prisoner of them and was +keeping them fast. In the stillness of the room their voices were +distinctly heard. + +"You _will_ promise it to me, then!" + +Isaac laughed and shook his head. "You don't know how incorrigible the +man has been, Georgie." + +"All the more reason for your forgiving him." + +"If the dean were here, I'm not sure that he would say so. He has had +the greatest trouble with him, Georgina." + +"That's just why I'm asking you," cried the girl prettily and saucily. +"Papa might refuse me; you must not. You know you _can't_." + +"What will you give if I say yes?" + +"I'll give you----" she dropped her voice and laughed. Isaac bent and +kissed her crimson cheek. Kissed it as a father might kiss a child; +but she drew back shyly, and blushed to her fingers' ends, half +glancing towards the window. + +Something like a faint sound of anger came from Charlotte. It was +smothered beneath a sudden cough. No ears heard it save those of the +anxious mother; no eyes, save hers, saw the involuntary clenching of +the impassive hands. She--Mrs. Darling--sat upright in her chair and +turned her eyes in the direction where her daughter's were fixed. + +"Did you obtain that information today, Sir Isaac?" + +Sir Isaac was again laughing--oh, how much better in health was he now +than of yore!--and did not hear the question. + +"Are you speaking to me, Mrs. Darling?" + +"That information you said you would obtain for me about the +conjunction of the trains. Did you do so?" + +"Brumm did. I thought he had given you the paper. He has all +particulars set down, I know, in black and white. Perhaps he gave it +to Miss Rose?" + +"Who is taking my name in vain?" cried Rose, looking in, her bright +face aglow with mirth. + +Mr. St. John had been standing for the last few minutes inside the +room, Rose on the threshold. As he talked to her, his eyes had +unconsciously rested on the face of Mrs. Carleton; and the strange +expression in hers, their look of fierce anger, had struck him with +amazement; even the movement of the hands, telling of suppressed pain, +was not wholly hidden from him. With a rush and a whirl there came +back to his mind certain facts connected with Mrs. Carleton St. John, +which had almost faded out of his remembrance. But what could be the +cause of her antipathy to Miss Beauclerc? And there _was_ antipathy in +those eyes, if he ever read eyes in this world. + +It was over directly,--quick as a flash of lightning,--and the +relative situations of the parties changed. Georgina Beauclerc came to +the table with a light step, as gay and careless as Rose; Sir Isaac +followed more slowly, and sat down by Mrs. Carleton. + +"You look pleased, my dear," observed Mrs. St. John, glancing up at +Georgina. + +"I have been teasing Sir Isaac, and I have gained my wish. But--you +didn't see"--and she bent her lips with a smile--"I had to give him a +kiss for the concession." + +"Rather a hazardous favour to grant in a general way," observed Mrs. +Darling, whose ears the whispered words had reached. "Some gentlemen, +in the bachelor position of Sir Isaac, might deem the gift +significant." + +She put down her beads and her canvas, and looked full at Georgina, +expecting a protest against such motives. But in this she was +mistaken. Georgina only threw back her pretty head with a laugh; and +in it--at least to Mrs. Darling's ears--there was a sound of triumph. + +"What was your petition to him, my dear?" asked Mrs. St. John. + +"Ah, that's a secret; it's something between himself and me;" and Miss +Georgina Beauclerc went dancing towards the window, as if desiring a +breath of the fresh night air. + +The scene was almost more lovely than by day, with that moon, brighter +than you often see it in August, shining on the landscape, and +bringing out its light and its shade. Mrs. Carleton, every vestige of +dissatisfaction removed, talked to Sir Isaac St. John. The tones of +her voice were low and tender; the pale, passive countenance was +singularly attractive. Sir Isaac had grown to like her very much +indeed; and she knew it. But, what perhaps she did not know, +liking with him had hitherto been confined to respect, esteem, +friendship,--as the case might be. _Never_ had the probability of its +going further occurred to any one. He had always expressed a +determination to live and die unmarried, and it was accepted as a +matter of certainty. + +Mr. St. John leaned against the wall, partly shaded by the blue satin +window-curtains. He was watching her keenly. All that old gossip which +had reached him, creating a strange suspicion in his mind, was rising +up, bit by bit. _She_ mad! Surely not! In that low, modulated voice; +in that composed, self-controlled countenance; in those dark eyes, +lighted now with a pleasant smile, there was no madness to be traced, +past, present, or to come,--not a symptom of it. What had Rose meant +by taking up the idea seriously?--by speaking of it to him? Nay, _his_ +was the fault for having listened to her. Rose! vain, giddy, careless +as of old. Mr. St. John had wondered two or three times this past week +what she was coming to. + +As he looked, an idea flashed over him. He had noticed this last week, +since his residence with them, little odds and ends in Mrs. Carleton's +conduct. How she strove incessantly to make herself agreeable to Sir +Isaac; how she walked out with him, drove out with him, sat with him +oftentimes in his morning-room, how _suave_ she was to Mr. Brumm; how, +in short, she seemed to have one object in life--and that, to devote +herself to Sir Isaac. It was very kind of her--very considerate, had +been Frederick's only thought until now, and he felt grateful to her, +though rather wondering; he felt grateful to any one who appreciated +his brother; but now the truth seemed to have opened his eyes, and +removed the scales that were before them. She was hoping to become +Lady St. John. + +Every feeling of Frederick St. John rose up in arms against it. Not +against his brother marrying. If it would be for his comfort and +happiness, Frederick would have been glad to see him marry on the +morrow. But to marry _her_--with that possibility of taint in her +blood? Any one in the wide world, rather than Charlotte Carleton. The +room suddenly felt too hot for him, and he turned from it impetuously, +his hand lifted to his brow. + +"Who's this? Don't run over me, Mr. St. John." + +He _had_ nearly run over her; she was so still; gathered there against +the wall, just beyond the window. + +"I beg your pardon, Georgina; I was deep in thought." + +"Is it not a lovely night?" + +"Yes, I suppose so. How long"--he dropped his voice--"is Mrs. +Carleton going to remain here? Do you know?" + +"Not I. How should I? Mrs. Darling and Rose leave tomorrow." + +There was a pause. He held out his arm to Georgina, and began slowly +to pace the terrace with her. She looked very fair, very lovely in the +moonlight. + +"How came Mrs. Carleton to prolong her stay beyond that of her mother +and sister?" + +"As if I knew! Sir Isaac pressed it, I think I heard him say to her +one day that as Mrs. St. John intended to spend the winter at Castle +Wafer, she could not do better than promise him to remain also. Don't +you like her?" + +"Not very much, I think." + +"I did like her. I cannot tell you how much I pitied her. It seems so +hard a fate to lose her husband and her two children, and now to have +lost Alnwick. But she won't let me like her; she is so very distant +with me; repellant might be the better word; and so I think she is +making me _dis_like her. I like Rose." + +He laughed. "No one can help liking Rose; with all her faults she is +open as the day. Do you know, Georgina, I used at times to think Rose +very much like you." + +"In face?" + +"No. And yet there may be a certain resemblance even there: both of +you are fair, and both--pretty. You need not fling away from me as if +it were treason to say so. But I meant in manner. You were once as +wild as Rose is now." + +"You saw a great deal of her this time last year, did you not, when +she was staying with Adeline de Castella?" + +"Yes," he laconically answered. + +Georgina Beauclerc turned to the terrace railings, and leaned over +them, looking far away. He stood by her side in silence. + +"Do you think I am wild in manner now?" she presently asked. + +"No; you have greatly changed." + +"Those old, old days in Westerbury--and I know I _was_ wild in +them--have faded away as a dream. It seems so long ago!--and yet, +marked by the calendar, it is only a short time. One may live years in +a few months, Mr. St. John." + +With the privileged freedom of his boyhood he turned her face towards +him, and saw what he had suspected. The blue eyes were filled with +tears. + +"What is it, child?" + +"Nothing. Past days are often sad to look back to." + +"Do you know that you _have_ changed--wonderfully changed?" + +"From my wildness? Yes, I think I have been tamed." + +"And what has tamed you?" + +"Oh,"--there was a slight pause--"nothing but my own good sense." + +"And now please tell me why you call me Mr. St. John. You have been +doing it all the week." + +The tears vanished, and a slight smile parted the pretty lips. + +"You are Mr. St. John now." + +"Not to you, I should have thought." + +"I remember the lecture you once gave me for calling you Fred." + +"No doubt. I gave you little else than lectures then; some of them in +earnest, some in fun. The lecture you speak of was of the latter +description." + +"I know how vexed you used to pet with me. You must have hated me very +much." + +"Wrong, young lady. Had I cared for you less, I should not have +lectured you. We don't get vexed with those we dislike. I should +lecture you still, if I saw cause to do it." + +Georgina laughed. They were again pacing the terrace, for he had +placed her arm in his. + +"I always believed in you, Georgina, though you did require so much +keeping in order. You were as wild a young damsel as I ever wish to +see. It is well your mood has changed." + +"I dare say you mean to say my manners." + +"Call it what you will. I like you best as you are. What's that, +shooting up like a bonfire?" + +They paused and watched the appearance he spoke of: a flaming light in +a distant field. + +"I know," cried Georgina. "Old Phipps is burning that dead tree of +his. Sir Isaac told him this morning not to let it lie there across +the path." + +"Were you there with Isaac this morning? So far off as that!" + +"He and I and Mrs. Carleton had walked there. He is a famous walker +now." + +"A little bird whispered a tale to me about you, Georgina, as I came +through London," he said, resuming their walk. "Shall I tell it?" + +"Tell it if you like. What is it?" + +"That you might, at no very distant time, be mistress of Hawkhurst. +His lordship----" + +"What a wicked untruth," she burst forth, as impulsively as ever she +had spoken in former days. "Who told it you? It was Sarah, I'm sure; +and she knows I refused him." + +"I'm sure he is a well-meaning young man; easy, good-tempered, and +very fond of you." + +"He is as stupid as an owl," returned Georgina, in her anger. "Oh--I +see: you are only laughing at me." + +"Tell me why you would not have him. We used to tell each other mutual +secrets in bygone days. Do you remember that real secret--that +accident--when you nearly set the deanery on fire, by placing the lamp +too close to the window-curtains, and I burnt my hands in putting the +fire out, and then took down the curtains afterwards, to remove all +traces of fire from them? I suppose the dean does not know the truth +to this day." + +"Mamma does not; and that is a great deal more to the purpose. She +still believes the curtains were mysteriously stolen. They were +fortunately very beautiful." + +"Fortunately! But you have not told me why you dismissed Hawkhurst and +his coronet." + +"I wouldn't have him if he had ten coronets. I wouldn't have any one." + +"Do you intend never to marry, Miss Georgina?" + +"Never, never. Papa and mamma have no one but me, and I shall not +leave them." + +Her blushes were conspicuous even in the moonlight. But she raised her +head, as if in defiance of the emotion, and looked straight out before +her. + +"So you did see Sarah as you came through London! She has made a good +marriage, has she not?" + +"Very good, in all senses of the word. She has rank, wealth; and her +husband, for a Viscount, is really a superior man." + +"For a Viscount! What next? Is Sarah as beautiful as ever?" + +"Well--no. She was both thin and pale. She'll get up her looks again +by-and-by, I dare say." + +"I'm sure she's happy, and that's the chief thing. They are to come to +us at Westerbury next winter. Talking of Westerbury," continued +Georgina, "Rose Darling had a letter from Westerbury this morning." + +"Indeed! I was not aware that Rose was acquainted with Westerbury, or +any one in it. Here she comes." + +She had been standing outside the window, and came forward as he +spoke. She had caught the sound of her own name, and wanted to +know--as she had just before, in the drawing-room--why they were +taking it in vain. + +"Miss Beauclerc says you heard from Westerbury this morning." + +"Well, so I did," cried Rose. "The letter was from Mary Carr. She is +staying with some friends there: what's their name?--Mr. and Mrs. +Travice Arkell." + +"Ah, yes," said Mr. St. John. "I heard from Travice not long ago." + +"Did he mention Lucy?" asked Georgina. + +"He said Lucy had sent her love to me, and that that was all he could +get out of her, for she was rapturously absorbed in her new toy, the +baby." + +"Mary Carr says you are to be its godfather," remarked Rose. + +"Oh, are you?" cried Georgina. "Which is it--a boy or a girl?" + +Mr. St. John considered, and then laughed. "I declare I don't know," +he said; "it's one of the two. Travice told me, I think, but I forget. +Knowing who the godmother is to be, I forgot all about the baby." + +"And who is it to be--Mrs. Dundyke?" + +"Not at all. It is a lady of a great deal more importance--in size, at +any rate. Miss Fauntleroy." + +Georgina laughed. Rose was a little puzzled: the bygone histories were +strange to her. And she was feeling cross besides. Where Rose took a +fancy--and she had taken one long ago to Frederick St. John--she did +not like to see attentions given to any one but her own sweet self. +She tossed her head, throwing back her blue ribbons and golden curls. + +"Is your sister going to make a long stay with us, Rose?" he quietly +asked. + +"My opinion is, that she'll make it just as long as you choose to ask +her: for ever and a day if Sir Isaac should please. Take care of her, +Frederick St. John! I never saw Charlotte put forth her attractions as +she is doing now." + +She spoke at random--in her wild carelessness: she had never given a +suspicion to the truth--that her sister was purposely trying to +attract Isaac St. John. Cold, proud, arrogant; to do so, would be +against Charlotte's nature, as Rose had always believed. + +Mrs. Darling and Rose took their departure from Castle Wafer, leaving +Charlotte and Georgina Beauclerc its only guests. It was lovely +weather, and the weeks went on. The mornings were chiefly spent out of +doors. Isaac St. John, so much stronger than he used to be, had never +gone about his grounds as he was going now. His companions were always +Charlotte Carleton and Georgina; Frederick often strolling by their +side. In the afternoon one or other of them would be driven, out by +Sir Isaac in his low pony-carriage, and the other would be with Mrs. +St. John, sitting at home with her or going out in the close carriage, +as the case might be. As to Frederick, he was apparently leading a +very idle life. In point of fact, he was secretly busy as ever was a +London detective, watching Mrs. Carleton. He had been watching her +closely ever since the departure of Mrs. Darling and Rose, now three +weeks ago, and he persuaded himself that he did detect signs of +incipient madness. + +One thing he detected in which there could be no mistake--her hatred +of Georgina Beauclerc. Not by any ordinary signs was this displayed, +by rudeness, by slight, or anything of that sort. On the contrary, she +was studiously polite to Georgina, even cordial at times. But every +now and then, when Georgina crossed her, there would blaze forth a +wild, revengeful fire in the eye, there would be an involuntary +contraction of the long thin fingers, as though they were tightening +on somebody's throat. It would all pass in a moment and was +imperceptible to general observation: but Frederick was _watching_. + +He also observed that whenever she was put out in this way, it was +always with reference to Isaac. One day in particular, it almost came +to open warfare. + +Sir Isaac had ordered round his pony-carriage in the morning, having +to go farther than he could walk. Frederick and Mrs. Carleton were in +the morning-room, and it was somehow arranged, in haste, that Mrs. +Carleton should accompany him. Frederick had not been particularly +attentive at the moment: he was writing letters: but he thought it was +Mrs. Carleton herself who offered to go, not Isaac who asked her. Be +that as it might, she put on her things, and came back to the room. At +almost the same moment, Georgina flew in, a mantle and bonnet in her +hand. + +"Are you going out?" asked Mrs. Carleton, drawing her shawl more +closely around her slender and stately form. + +"I am going with Sir Isaac," replied Georgina: and Mrs. Carleton made +an almost imperceptible pause before she spoke again. + +"_I_ am going with Sir Isaac." + +"That I'm sure you are not," cried Georgina, in her spoilt, girlish +way. "Sir Isaac is going to Hatherton, and knows why I must go there +with him: why he must take me in preference to any one else. Don't +you, Sir Isaac?" she added, entwining her arm within his. + +"You petted child!" he fondly said. "Who told you I was going to +Hatherton?" + +"Brumm. I asked him what the pony-carriage had come round for this +morning. You will take me?" she continued, her voice and manner +irresistible in their sweetness. + +"I suppose I must," he answered. "If Mrs. Carleton will allow me--will +excuse the trouble she has had in putting on her things. There! put on +your bonnet, my wilful, troublesome child; you would charm a bird from +its nest." + +That any feeling of _rivalry_ could be entertained by either, never +once crossed the brain of Sir Isaac St. John. He had watched Georgina +Beauclerc grow up from a baby, and he looked upon her still as a +child: he gave way to her moods as we give way to those of a child who +is very dear to us. He loved her fondly; he would have liked her for +his daughter: and since the project of marrying Frederick to Lady Anne +St. John had failed, he had cherished a secret and silent wish down +deep in his heart, that Lady Anne might be supplanted by the dean's +daughter. But he was cautious not to breathe a hint of this, not to +further it by so much as lifting a finger. If it came to pass, well +and good, but he would never again plot and plan, and be made +miserable by failure, as he had been in the case of Lady Anne. That +Mrs. Carleton could be seriously annoyed at his disappointing her for +Georgina, did not occur to him: it never would have occurred to him +that she could look on the young lady as anything but a lovable and +loving child. + +They went out to the pony-carriage, Georgina on his arm and prattling +in her pretty way. Sir Isaac placed her in, solicitous for her +comfort, and took his seat beside her. Her bright face and its +sparkling grey eyes were beaming with triumph, and she turned back +with a saucy farewell. + +"Don't expect us home until you see us." + +Let us give Georgina Beauclerc her due. She never suspected, any more +than did Sir Isaac, that Mrs. Carleton could by any possibility regard +her as a rival. Had she been told that Mrs. Carleton was laying siege +to the master of Castle Wafer, Georgina had retired to a respectful +distance and looked on. From her light-hearted youth, they appeared +very old to her. Mrs. Carleton was a widow, who had lost all she cared +for in life; Sir Isaac was a second father to her, looking older, in +his hump, than her own, and she was at liberty to be free and familiar +with him as a daughter. + +Mrs. Carleton stood at the window as they drove off. She was wholly +mistaking matters, as we all do when ill-nature or prejudice is upon +us. The triumphant look in the girl's face and eyes, really shining +forth in her warm-hearted joyousness, and unsuspicious of offence to +any, was regarded by Charlotte Carleton as a displayed triumph over +_her_; the saucy farewell, which was more saucy in tone than in words, +and which was meant for no one in particular, but for Frederick if any +one, was taken by the unhappy lady to herself. That strange evil look +arose in her eyes as she gazed after the carriage, and a shiver passed +through her frame. + +Frederick St. John was half frightened. If ever a woman looked mad, +she looked so in that moment. Her long fingers quivered, her lips were +drawn, her face was white as death. He rose silently. + +"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Carleton: you are dropping your shawl." + +In truth the shawl, which had become unfastened, was falling from her +shoulders, and he made it an excuse for interfering, speaking in +quiet, soothing tones, to be near her and prepared, should there be +any act of violence. She turned and glared at him. No other word will +express the blaze that was in her eyes at the moment. One whole minute +did she so stand before she recollected herself, or seemed to know +what she was looking at or where she was. Then she gathered up the +shawl on her arm, and sat down quietly. + +"Thank you," she said; "this silk shawl is given to slipping off." + +In a moment she had obtained perfect mastery of herself: her pale face +was calm again, nay, impassive; her eyes had lost their frightful +expression, and were ordinary eyes once more. Frederick asked whether +he should drive her out; there was Mrs. St. John's basket-carriage: if +she would like a little fresh air, he was at her service. + +At first she said no; but recalled the negative and thought she would +trouble him. It was so quiet indoors this morning without Sir Isaac, +and that gay, foolish girl, Georgina. Yes; if not interrupting those +apparently important letters, she would accept his offer. + +So the basket-carriage--rather a rickety affair, for Mrs. St. John +never used it now, and it was given over to neglect--was ordered +round. Mrs. Carleton put on her shawl again, and they started. And +there he was, driving this, as he verily believed, half-mad woman, who +was calm as an angel now; conversing with him sensibly and placidly, a +pleasant smile in her dark eyes. + +But this morning's doings were an exception. In a general way it was +Mrs. Carleton who was the companion of Isaac St. John. She walked with +him in the morning; Georgina and Frederick generally falling into the +background; she drove out with him in the afternoon; she sat by his +side, speaking in soft whispers, at night. That she was either really +in love with Isaac St. John, or striving to make him in love with her, +there could no longer be any doubt on the mind of Frederick. He +wondered whether it was apparent to others; but he could not tell. + +Over and over again he asked himself the question--were these signs of +madness, or not? People were rather in the habit of turning white with +passion; he himself, to wit, on occasion; and jealousy and dislike of +a pretty girl were nothing new. All that was as nothing: but he could +not forget that awful look in the eyes, that movement of the hands, +that peculiar shiver of the frame; and he believed that she, Charlotte +Carleton, was either mad or in danger of becoming so. You see, the +doubt had been already implanted in him by Rose Darling; but for that, +he might never have so much as glanced at the possibility; and he very +seriously pondered the question, whether this fear arose solely from +that whispered communication, and had no place in reality. + +It is possible the affair altogether might not have continued to +trouble him, but for a word dropped by his mother. Mrs. Carleton sat +by Sir Isaac that evening in the drawing-room, her low words breathed +in the softest whisper. She was trying to learn, so ladylike and +candid all the while, what business he and Georgina had had at +Hatherton. Isaac made no very particular reply: and indeed there was +none to make. A man lived at Hatherton who had been a protégé of the +dean's, but he fell into evil habits, ill-treated his poor sick wife, +and finally was discarded. It was for this man Georgina had been +begging grace of Isaac--that Sir Isaac would take him on, and give him +a trial; and it was to see the wife that Georgina went to Hatherton. +No great news to tell; and Sir Isaac did not perceive that Mrs. +Carleton was _anxious_ to hear it. Presently Sir Isaac rose, went out, +and sat down on the terrace; it was a sultry night, and every breath +of air was grateful. Mrs. Carleton also went out and sat by him. + +"Frederick," whispered Mrs. St. John, in the impulse of the moment, +"should you be very much disappointed were Isaac to give Castle Wafer +a mistress?" + +So his mother had noticed it! "Not if the mistress were suitable." + +"He might give it a worse, Frederick; I like her." + +Frederick St. John drew in his breath. A worse! Surely, never a worse, +if his fears were correct, than she; not though Isaac searched the +whole world through. Mrs. St. John looked up at her son. + +"You are silent, Frederick. Should you not like her?" + +"I think not." + +"It is only a suggestion that crossed me; it does seem next door to an +impossibility that Isaac should marry, after all. Don't let it make +you uncomfortable." + +"Nay, mother mine, you mistake me," he said. "None would more heartily +welcome the thought of a wife for Isaac, should such be his own +desire; but I--I think I should not like the wife to be Mrs. +Carleton." + +He spoke calmly, but a flush passed over his brow at the thought, a +chill to his heart. He quitted his mother and strolled outside. + +Georgina was with Isaac then. She had edged herself between him and +the arm of the bench, and was taking up his attention, to the +exclusion of Mrs. Carleton. If the girl had only known the sin she was +committing in that lady's sight! Luring him away in her pretty +wilfulness to walk with her on the lower walks under the bright stars; +and he went without so much as a word of apology or regret to Mrs. +Carleton: and the sound of their voices as they paced together, came +up with a joyous ring on the still night air. Frederick St. John +watched _her_ attentively under cover of the darkness; he saw the +distorted countenance, the fearful eyes, and he decided that she was +mad, and was meditating some revenge on Miss Beauclerc. + +It troubled him greatly. At one moment he recalled all the queer and +horrible tales he had heard of people killing or injuring others in +their madness, previously unsuspected; the next, he asked himself +whether he were awake or dreaming, that he should call up ideas so +unlikely and fantastical. By-and-by, when they were all indoors again, +Mrs. Carleton sat down to the piano, and sang some low, sweet music, +charming their ears, winning their hearts. Had all the doctors +connected with Bethlehem Hospital come forward then to declare her +mad, people would have laughed at them for their pains; and Mr. St. +John amidst the rest. + +Have you ever observed with what a different aspect we see things in +the morning from what we saw them at night? In the broad light +of the bustling day, if we by chance glance back at our evening +fancies--seeming true enough then--it is with a shrug of compassion at +their folly. All the time Mr. St. John was dressing, the sun shining +gaily into his chamber, he was feeling rather ashamed of himself. How +_could_ he have allowed those horrible thoughts to obtain a moment's +ascendency the previous night? Was he not doing Mrs. Carleton an +unpardonable injury? He had positively no grounds whatever to go upon, +except that past communication made by Rose, which might have had no +truth in it. "I've a great mind to go away!" quoth Mr. St. John, "and +pick up some common sense before I come back again." + +As he went along the corridor, Mrs. Carleton was coming out of her own +room, pale, quiet, handsome, her head raised a little haughtily as +usual. She held out her hand to Mr. St. John with a smile; and he, in +his new fit of repentance, placed it within his arm, and led her +downstairs. + +"I have had a letter from Rose," she said. "Would you like to see it? +She speaks of Paris as of an elysium." + +She sat down to preside at the breakfast-table. Mrs. St. John rarely +quitted her room until midday. The windows opened to the terrace, and +he went out, the letter in his hand. Georgina was leaning on some +railings, and did not turn to greet him. He asked her what she was +looking at. + +"I'm not looking: I am thinking. I was trying to recollect whether I +really had an adventure in the night, or whether it was only a dream." + +The words, without perhaps sufficient cause, seemed to sharpen every +faculty he possessed. Crushing Rose's letter in his hand, as a thing +of no moment, he asked Georgina to explain what she meant. + +"Something awoke me in the middle of the night," she said; "and I saw, +or thought I saw, a face bending over my bed, close to mine. I called +out, 'Who is it? What do you want?' but there was no answer, only the +curtain seemed to stir, and then the door closed very quietly, as if +whoever it was had left the room. I don't think I was yet quite awake, +but I ran to the door, opened it, and looked out. I saw--at least I +fancied I saw--that quiet maid of Mrs. Carleton's, Prance; she was +standing in the corridor in a white petticoat or night dress, and I +could have declared that I heard her speaking in an angry whisper. But +the next moment I could see no trace of any one; and when my eyes grew +accustomed to the grey light, I saw that all the chamber doors were +shut." + +He paused an instant before replying. "Are you sure it was Prance in +the corridor? Did you see her distinctly?" + +"I saw only the white things she was wrapped in; the outline of her +figure. It was by that outline I took it to be Prance, and because she +was standing at Mrs. Carleton's door, which was then open, or seemed +to be." + +"Could it have been Mrs. Carleton herself, standing there?" + +"No. It was nothing like tall enough. If it was anybody, it was +Prance; that is, if anything of the sort did take place, and it was +not a dream; and she was speaking angrily to some one inside Mrs. +Carleton's room." + +"Do you, yourself, think it was a dream, Georgina?" + +"I should have felt quite certain that it was not a dream, that it was +all reality, only that Prance positively denies it. She says she never +was out of the room at all last night after Mrs. Carleton came up to +bed. She says, she thinks I must, have had a nightmare." + +"Where does Prance sleep? Somewhere at the back, I suppose." + +"She sleeps in Mrs. Carleton's room. Did you not know it? There was a +little bed put into the room for her the day they came. Mrs. Carleton +does not like sleeping in a room alone." + +"When did you speak to Prance about it?" + +"Just now I saw her in the corridor. I asked whether anything was the +matter last night, but she did not seem to know what I meant, and I +explained. She quite laughed at me, saying I must have been suffering +from nightmare." + +"And denying that she was in the corridor?" + +"Entirely. She says it's not possible any one could have been there, +for she slept very badly last night, and must have heard the slightest +movement outside, had there been any, her bed being close to the door. +What do you think?" concluded Georgina. + +Mr. St. John did not say what he thought: he chose rather to treat it +lightly. "It might have been a sort of nightmare." + +"But I never had nightmare before in my life. I seemed to see the +outline of a head and face over me, though indistinctly." + +"Did you think the face was Prance's?" + +"It seemed to belong to somebody taller than Prance. I dare say it +_was_ a dream, after all. Don't laugh at me." + +"A dream, no doubt," he said. "But Georgina, I would not mention this +if I were you. I'll not laugh at it, but others might: and Mrs. +Carleton would not like the idea of her door being open, or supposed +to have been open in the middle of the night. If Prance has to sleep +in her room, I suppose she must be of a timid nature, and she might be +getting thieves and robbers into her head should she hear of this." + +"I did not intend to say anything to her. But Prance most likely +will." + +"Prance can do as she chooses. There is another thing--I would advise +you to lock your chamber door just at present." + +She looked up at him with surprise. "Lock my chamber-door! What for?" + +"Well," he answered, after a brief hesitation, "you could not then +fancy that any one came in." + +"I could not sleep with my door locked. If a fire took place in the +house, I might be burnt up before any one could arouse me." + +"Georgina, trust me," he said, impressively, and he laid his hand upon +her shoulder, "_I_ will take care of you in case of fire, and if your +door is locked, burst it open. Turn the key of your door just now, to +oblige me." + +"Tell me what you suspect--that you should thus caution me." + +"I--think it--just possible--that some one may walk in their sleep. +Perhaps one of the maids." + +"Oh! I should not like that," exclaimed Georgina, unsuspiciously. "I +should be far more frightened if some one asleep came into my room in +the night, than if they were awake." + +"Just so: therefore you will lock your door. Promise me." + +"I promise, Frederick." + +He turned from her, and crossed the terrace to enter the +breakfast-room, she looking after him, a whole world of love shining +unconsciously from her wistful eyes. No, it was of no use: she had +striven against her love; but it was all in vain. Passionately as she +had loved Frederick St. John in the old days, before he had given +signs of liking any one--unless it had been her cousin Sarah,--before +he ever saw Adeline de Castella, so passionately she loved him still. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. +A TELEGRAM. + + +Georgina Beauclerc's revelation was a complete overthrow to Mr. St. +John's more tolerant feelings of the morning. He fully believed it. He +believed that the face leaning over the girl's bed must have been Mrs. +Carleton's, that she had glided away when Georgina awoke; and that +Prance, who must have suddenly discovered her absence from the room, +had then come in search of her. Why did Prance sleep in her chamber? +That seemed rather an odd thing to Mr. St. John. And--assuming that it +was Mrs. Carleton--what motive could have taken her to Georgina's +room?--have caused her to hang over her when asleep? Had she done it +in restlessness?--become weary, and so have risen and prowled about +the corridor and the rooms to while away the hours? Mr. St. John +strove to think so: perhaps, rather, to deceive his own heart into +thinking so. As to her having any intention of injuring Georgina, his +mind shrank from entertaining the idea. He could not bear even to +glance at it: apart from the horror of the thing, it partook too much +of the sensational and romantic. + +And how, indeed, could he think it? Look at her now. Sitting there so +calm, so gentle, by Georgina's side, handing the cup of tea to Isaac +she had just poured out, speaking with a sunny smile. + +"I won't transgress this time, Sir Isaac, and give you too much sugar. +Indeed, I forgot before. I must have thought I was sweetening for Mr. +St. John." + +"Ay, no doubt," replied Sir Isaac. "He can take any amount of sugar. +Do you remember when you were a little fellow, Fred, I would half melt +the lumps in my tea, and you would eat them for me?" + +Frederick laughed. "I remember you indulged me in many things a great +deal more than I deserved." + +"I have had a letter from Alnwick this morning," observed Sir Isaac, +turning to Mrs. Carleton. "Drake remonstrates against the Hall being +left empty any longer. He says if I would only go to it for a week, it +would be an earnest that it will sometime be occupied again. What +should you all say to a week's visit there--provided Mrs. St. John +shall think herself well enough to undertake the journey?" + +No one replied. Mrs. Carleton gave one startled glance upwards, and +then busied herself with her tea-making. + +"The alterations in the conservatory are finished," continued Isaac: +"a very nice thing they have made of it, Drake says. You remember that +awkward-looking corner by the stove, Mrs. Carleton? That also has been +remedied." + +Mrs. Carleton looked up now, her face quietly impassive. "Sir Isaac, I +would rather not hear anything about Alnwick. I try to put my past +happiness from me as much as possible, and do not care to be reminded +of it." + +"I beg your pardon," cried Sir Isaac, in warm, considerate tones; "I +ought to have remembered. Then you would not like to go there?" + +"No. Not yet." + +Of course that ended it, Sir Isaac intimated, and the conversation +dropped. He was ever solicitous for the comfort of Mrs. Carleton, in +small things as in great. This may have arisen solely from his +sympathy with her position, from the feeling that he was in possession +of the revenues she had once expected would be hers: but that she +attributed it to a warmer sentiment, there could be little doubt. + +"Will you go out with me in the pony-carriage this morning?" asked Sir +Isaac. "I have not felt so strong the last day or two, and think, +perhaps, I have been walking too much." + +"I will go with you, dear St. Isaac," was Mrs. Carleton's honeyed +answer; and Frederick St. John did not like to see the gratified look +that illumined his brother's face as he thanked her. + +They went out. Georgina disappeared within the apartments of Mrs. St. +John, to write a long-delayed letter to her mother; and Frederick +buried himself and his thoughts in the shadiest nook of his +painting-room--for he had one at Castle Wafer. He had intended to go +out shooting that morning, after breakfast, in his lazy fashion, for +September was passing; but he felt in no mood for it now. A horrible +dread had taken possession of him--that, not interfered with, his +brother would be led on to marry her. + +Not interfered with! Who was to interfere? In moments of difficulty we +always think, "If the case were different, I could meet it." _He_ was +thinking so. "If I were not Isaac's heir, then I might speak out +fearlessly. As it is--it would appear as though I interfered from +interested motives; and I cannot do it." + +Perhaps he was right. He might have seen his way more clearly, had +there been tangible proof to bring forward concerning Mrs. Carleton's +state of mind; but there was none. To say, "I fear she is not quite +sane, or that she may hereafter become insane," would naturally be met +by the question, "What grounds have you for thinking so?"--and he had +really no good grounds to advance. And yet he felt that Isaac ought to +be warned, lest he should compromise himself. + +Grumbling at the untowardness of things, tired to death with worry, +flinging a palette here, a painting there, striding the room with slow +and uneven steps, Mr. St. John contrived somehow to live through the +morning. Suddenly, when he was stretching himself, and rather wishing +for wings that he might fly to the uttermost parts of the earth, it +occurred to him that he would speak to Honour. The girl had once +dropped some inadvertent words in his hearing, and she might be able +to tell him more. It seemed that he would give half his own undoubted +inheritance to set the question at rest. + +He rang the bell, and told the servant who answered it to send Honour +to him. He had not seen the girl, as far as he remembered, since his +present sojourn at home. The fact was, Honour's duties had been +changed, and lay downstairs now, instead of above. She had given up +the place of housemaid, which she found did not suit her, to become +assistant to the housekeeper, and was learning cooking and +confectionery. Not once in six months now would her duties take her up +the grand staircase, or bring her in contact with the guests. + +"Where have you been hiding yourself?" asked Mr. St. John, when she +appeared in obedience to his orders. "I never see you by any chance." + +Honour explained now. She looked just the same as ever, and she still +wore mourning for her beloved Benja. + +"Honour, I want to ask you a question. And you must answer it, for it +is essential that you should do so. But you may rely upon my +discretion, and no trouble shall accrue to you from it. You once spoke +a word or two which led me to infer that your late mistress, Mrs. +Carleton St. John, was not altogether of sound mind. Did you mean what +you said?" + +Honour paused. Not from fear of speaking, but in doubt what to say. +Mr. St. John, attributing it to the former motive, again assured her +that she might trust him. + +"It is not that, sir; it is that I don't well know how to answer you. +I remember what I said--you were asking me about that dreadful night, +saying that from the manner in which he had been burnt to death it +looked as though somebody had done it for the purpose; and I answered, +in the moment's haste, that nobody could have done that, unless it was +Mrs. St. John in her madness." + +"But did you mean anything, Honour? That is the point to be considered +now." + +"I did, and I didn't, sir. I had seen my mistress two or three times +in a most awful passion; a passion, sir, that you would hardly believe +possible in a lady, and I meant that if she had done it, it must have +been in one of those mad fits of passion. But I did not really mean +that she had done it," resumed Honour, "and I could have bitten my +tongue out afterwards for answering so carelessly; it was the very +thing Mrs. Darling warned me against. There was no reason for +supposing the calamity to have been anything but pure accident." + +"What had Mrs. Darling warned you against?" + +"It occurred in this way, sir. After it was all over and the poor lamb +buried, I had brain fever; and they tell me I made all sorts of wild +accusations in it, amidst others that my mistress had set fire to +Benja and bolted the door upon him. After I got well, Mrs. Darling +told me of this. Nothing could be kinder than what she said, but she +warned me never to breathe such words again. I should not have had +such a thought, even in my delirium, but for the bolted doors; I +couldn't get over that at the time; but I came to the same conclusion +at last as other people--that poor Benja must have fastened the one to +keep me out, and that the other was not bolted at all. It's likely +enough, for I never was in such a flurry before, smelling the burning +so strong." + +"And in your delirium you accused your mistress of having caused the +mischief?" + +"So they tell me, sir. How I came to fancy such wicked thoughts is the +wonder. It's true that she was always jealous of Benja after her own +child was born, always hated him; and I suppose I remembered that, +even in my unconsciousness. Not an hour before the accident she had +beaten him cruelly." + +"_Beaten_ him!" interrupted Mr. St. John. + +"She did, sir. It's over now, and I said nothing about it: where was +the use? Well, all these things must have got jumbled together in my +poor fevered brain, and caused me to say what I did. I was very sorry +for it, sir, when I got well; I should never have thought of such a +thing in my senses." + +"Then--although you used the word 'madness,' you never had cause to +think her really insane?" + +"Oh no, never. In those frightful passions she was as one mad, sir, +but they were over directly. I hope you'll pardon me, sir, for having +been so foolish as to say it." + +"Nay, Honour, it is nothing to me. We all make slips occasionally in +talking. That's all I wanted to ask you." + +She turned to leave the room. Mr. St. John took a rapid summary in his +mind of what he had heard. It seemed only to increase his +difficulties. There was not the slightest corroborative testimony as +to her possible insanity; but there were other hints which tended to +render her a most unfit wife for Isaac. If---- + +His reflections were brought to a sudden conclusion by a scream +outside. This studio of his was situated in an angle of the staircase, +where it was rather dark. Honour had not yet closed the door: but the +scream did not appear to have come from her. He hastened out. + +It had come from Mrs. Carleton. Standing in the opposite angle, +gathered closely against the wall, as if hiding from a ghost, her eyes +were fixed with a glare of terror upon Honour, her face was white as +death. She had just come in from the drive with Sir Isaac, and was on +her way to her room to take off her bonnet for luncheon. Honour saw +the effect her appearance caused, and stood irresolute, curtseying, +not liking to go down, because she would have to brush past Mrs. +Carleton. Before Mr. St. John had recovered from his astonishment, +Prance came gliding up and took her mistress by the arm. + +"It's only Honour Tritton, ma'am; do you not know her? You fool, why +did you put yourself in her sight!" added the woman to Honour in +whispered exasperation. "I told you to keep out of it--that she didn't +know you were here. The sight of _you_ cannot be pleasant to her +remembrance." + +Almost by force, as it seemed, she led her mistress away to her +bedroom and closed the door. A good way down the corridor Mrs. +Carleton's white face was turned back on Honour, with its look of +wild, desperate fear. + +Mr. St. John seemed equally stunned with Honour. "What is the meaning +of this?" he asked. + +"I'm sure I don't know, sir," was the girl's answer, as she burst into +tears. + +"Prance said she had warned you to keep out of Mrs. Carleton's sight. +Is that true?" + +"Yes, sir, it's true. She said her mistress did not know I was at +Castle Wafer, and I had better take care and not show myself to her." + +"But why?" + +"I don't know, sir. All she said was that Mrs. Carleton St. John was +fearfully angry with me still, knowing that, but for my carelessness +in leaving the child he would be alive now. I had kept out of her +sight until today. But it seemed to me now that she looked more +terrified than angry." + +As it had to Mr. St. John. Honour went out about her business, and he +felt bewildered with the complication of events that seemed to be +arising. There came down an apology to the luncheon-room from Mrs. +Carleton, delivered by Prance. Her lady had a headache, brought on by +being so long in the hot sun without a parasol, and was now lying +down. + +"How sorry I am!" exclaimed Sir Isaac. "She complained of the sun when +we were out." + +Late in the afternoon, she came into the drawing-room, dressed for +dinner. Frederick happened to be there alone. As a matter of +politeness, he condoled with her on her indisposition, hoping it was +gone. + +"Not quite. To tell you the truth, Mr. St. John," she continued in +quiet, confidential tones, "the sight of that woman, Honour Tritton, +had as much to do with my headache as the heat. You know who she was, +I presume--nurse to my poor little stepson; the woman to whose +unpardonable carelessness his death was attributable. I have never +been able to think of the woman since without horror, and the +unexpected sight of her--for I had no idea she was at Castle +Wafer--was almost too much for me." + +"She is one of the servants here," observed Frederick, not very well +knowing what else to answer. + +"As I hear. I wonder Sir Isaac should have engaged her. However, of +course, that is no business of mine. I hope she will not come into my +way again, for I have a perfect horror of her. But for her wickedness, +we might all still have been happy at Alnwick." + +She rose as she spoke, and went on the lawn. Mrs. St. John was there. +Sir Isaac was then in his own sitting-room, and Frederick went in to +him. The table was strewed with papers, and he was writing rapidly. + +"Look at this," he said to Frederick, holding out a letter, and in his +voice might be traced a sound of annoyance. "It is incomprehensible +how people can be so stupid." + +"Are you writing to stop it?" asked Frederick, when he had read the +note. + +"I am writing; but whether it will be in time to stop it, is another +matter. The letter only came by this afternoon's post." + +"I should telegraph," said Frederick. Sir Isaac laid down his pen. "It +might be the better plan, But you can say so little in a message." + +"Do both," advised the younger brother. "I will go off at once and +send the message, and you can post your letter afterwards. You will +then have the satisfaction of knowing that all has been done that can +be done." + +"Yes, that will be better. If you don't mind the trouble. But you will +hardly be back by dinner-time." + +"Yes I shall. And as to trouble, Isaac, I think it's doing me a +kindness. I have been in a cross-grained mood all day, for want +perhaps of something to do." + +Sir Isaac wrote the message, and Frederick started with it, leaping +down the slopes buoyant as a schoolboy. It was a sensible relief, +perhaps, to what he had called his cross-grained mood. He had only a +short walk; for the railway had now been extended from Lexington, and +its small station was not far from the lodge gates of Castle Wafer. + +Mr. St. John entered the little telegraph office. He gave in his +message, and was exchanging a few words with the clerk, when the +rustle of petticoats was heard, and a female voice addressed the clerk +in hurried accents. Mr. St. John at the moment was behind the +partition, and unseen by the newcomer. + +"Young man, can I send a telegraph off at once? It's in a hurry." + +"You can send a telegram," responded the clerk. "Where's it to?" + +"Paris." + +"What's the message?" + +"I've wrote it down here, so that there may be no mistake. It's quite +private, if you please, and must be kept so: a little matter that +don't concern anybody. And be particular, for it's from Castle Wafer. +Will it be in Paris tonight?" + +"Yes," said the clerk, confidently, as he counted the words. + +"What's to pay?" + +"Twelve-and-sixpence." + +"Twelve-and-sixpence!" repeated the voice. "What a swindle." + +"You needn't pay it if you don't like." + +"But then the telegram would not go?" + +"Of course it wouldn't." + +The clink of silver was heard, dashed down upon the counter. "I can't +stop to argue about the charge, so I must pay it," grumbled the voice. +"But it's a great shame, young man." + +"The charges ain't of my fixing," responded the young man. "Good +afternoon, ma'am." + +She bustled out again as hurriedly as she had come in, not having seen +Mr. St. John, or suspected that the wooden partition had any one +behind it. He went to the door, looked after her, and recognized +Prance: he thought he had not been mistaken in the voice. She was +walking very fast indeed in the direction of Castle Wafer. + +"I must see that message, Jones," said Mr. St. John, turning back into +the little room. + +Mr. Jones hesitated; but there was an air of quiet command in the +words--and the speaker was the heir of Castle Wafer. He laid the +written message on the desk. + + +"_Mary Prance to Mrs. Darling_. + +"Please come back as quick as you can. I don't like her symptoms. I am +afraid of something that I had better not write down here." + + +"Is it to go, sir?" asked the clerk. + +"Oh yes, it is to go. Thank you. It's all right. I had a reason for +wishing to see it." + +He walked back to the house; not quickly, as Prance was doing, but +slowly and reflectively. Sufficient food for reflection he had, in +truth. They had not gone in to dinner; and Georgina Beauclerc, her +beautiful grey eyes sparkling with excitement, crossed the lawn to +meet him, wearing a blue silk evening dress, and pearls in her hair. + +"Oh, Frederick, guess the news! It has come to me only now. I won't +tell it you unless you guess it." + +He took both her hands in his, and gazed steadfastly into her excited +face. The blushes began to rise. + +"News--and I am to guess it? Perhaps it is that you are going to be a +sober girl." + +She laughed, and would have drawn her hands away. But he held them +still. + +"I can't wait: I must tell you. Papa and mamma are on their way home. +They will be at the Rectory tomorrow night." + +"How have you heard it?" + +"They have had news at the Rectory and sent up to tell me, I am so +glad! It seems ages and ages since I saw papa. Only think how I might +have been spared the trouble of writing that long letter to mamma +today, had I known?" + +"I am glad too," he said, his tone changing to seriousness. "We shall +get rid of you now." + +One hasty glance at his face. What she saw there puzzled her. He +really did look as though he meant it. + +"Why do you say that?" + +"Because it's the truth. I shall be glad when you are away from here, +safe in the dean's charge again." + +There was an earnestness in his tone which caused her large eyes to +open. + +"You have not been rude to me once this time until now," she pouted. +"Sir Isaac would not say that." + +"Rude?" + +"It is rude to tell me you want to get rid of me. I never said a ruder +thing to you than that, in my wildest days." + +"I do want it," he answered, laughing. But he laid his hand upon her +head as he spoke, and looked fondly at her. Her eyelids fell. + +"You know I don't care for you, Georgina." + +But the words were spoken as though he did care for her. Georgina ran +away from him into the drawing-room. He followed, and found them going +in to dinner, Charlotte Carleton leaning on the arm of Sir Isaac. + + +"What are you going to do with Alnwick, Sir Isaac?" + +The question came from Mrs. Carleton, and it may be that it took Sir +Isaac somewhat by surprise, after her previous avoidance of the +subject. They were at dessert, not on this same day, but on the next, +for four-and-twenty hours have gone on. + +"In what way do you mean?" Sir Isaac asked, consideration very +distinguishable in his tone. But it was called up by the subject +alone. + +"Shall you ever live at it?" + +"I am not sure. I have a place in the North, you know, hitherto held +in reserve should I leave Castle Wafer." + +"But you would never leave Castle Wafer!" + +"As its master, yes, should Frederick marry. It has always been my +intention to resign it to him. But I dare say they would have me as +their guest for six months of the year." + +Her handsome face was bent downwards; her raven hair, with the +perfumed white rose in it, was very close to her host. + +"Is he likely to marry?" + +"Not that I am aware of. I wish he was!" + +"Let him take Alnwick as a residence, and remain yourself at Castle +Wafer. The idea of your having to quit this beautiful place when you +have made it what it is!" + +Sir Isaac smiled. "Frederick says as you do, Mrs. Carleton. He +protests he will never reign at Castle Wafer so long as I live. It may +end in our living here together, two old bachelors; or, rather, an old +bachelor and a young one." + +"But shall you never marry?" she softly asked. "Why should you not +form ties of your own? Oh, Sir Isaac, it is what every one would wish +you to do." + +Sir Isaac slightly shook his head. Frederick St. John's ears were +strained to catch the conversation, although he was giving his +attention to Miss Beauclerc. + +"Do you know what I should like to do with Alnwick?"--and Sir Isaac's +voice dropped to a whisper. "I should like to see _you_ in it." + +A streak of crimson crossed her cheek at the words. "I never, never +could live again at Alnwick. Oh, Sir Isaac"--and the handsome face was +raised pathetically to his--"think of the trouble it brought me! You +could not expect me to go back to it." + +He answered the look with eyes as pitying as her own. + +"Give Alnwick to your brother, Sir Isaac. Remain yourself at Castle +Wafer: never think of leaving it." + +"You like Castle Wafer?" + +"I never was in any place that I liked so much." + +"Then you must not run away from it," said Sir Isaac, smiling. + +"I don't want to run away from it," she answered, her eyes lifted +pleadingly to his. "I have nowhere to run to. It is so hard--so very +hard to make a fresh home! And I have so little to make one with. I +lost all when I lost Alnwick." + +A movement. Mrs. St. John was rising, and Frederick gave his mother a +mental blessing as he opened the door. Sir Isaac passed the claret to +him as he sat down, and he poured out a glass mechanically, but did +not touch it. In the last twenty-four hours his doubts, as to Mrs. +Carleton's designs on Sir Isaac, had become certainties, and his +spirit was troubled. + +"You have been inviting Mrs. Carleton to prolong her stay here, +Isaac?" + +"I invited her, when she first came, to stay as long as she liked," +was Sir Isaac's reply. "I hope she will do so." + +"Do you like her?" + +"Very much indeed. I liked her the first time I ever saw her. Poor +thing! so meek, so gentle, and so unfortunate! she has all my +sympathy." + +Frederick St. John took up his dessert-knife and balanced it on one of +his fingers, supremely unconscious of his actions. He by no means saw +his way clear to saying what he should like to say. + +"She urges me to give you Alnwick as a residence, Fred." + +"She is very generous," returned Fred: and Sir Isaac did not detect +the irony of the remark. "I heard her say it would be a sin for you to +quit Castle Wafer; or something to that effect. It has been always my +own opinion, you know, Isaac." + +"We shall see." + +"Isaac, I am going to be rather bold, and attack one of your--I had +almost said prejudices. You like Charlotte Carleton. I don't like +her." + +"Not like her!" + +"No, I don't. And I am annoyed beyond measure at her staying on here, +with no chance, as far as I can see, of her leaving. Annoyed, for--for +your sake." + +The words evidently surprised Sir Isaac. He turned his keen eyes upon +the speaker. Frederick's were not lifted from the balancing knife. + +"What do you see in her to dislike?" + +"For one thing, I don't think she's sincere. For another----" + +Down fell the knife on the dessert-plate, chipping a piece off its +edge. The culprit was vexed. Sir Isaac smiled. + +"The old action, Fred. Do you remember breaking that beautiful plate +of Worcester porcelain in the same way?" + +"I do: and how it vexed my mother, for it spoilt the set. They had +better not put me a knife and fork; make me go without, as they do the +children. I am sure to get playing with them." + +"But about Mrs. Carleton? Go on with your catalogue of grievances +against her." + +When the mind is hovering in the balance, how a word, a tone, will +turn it either way! The slight sound of amusement, apparent in Isaac's +voice, was a very mockery to his listener; and he went on, hating his +task more than before, almost inclined to give it up. + +"For another thing, I was going to say, Isaac--I am not sure that she +is _sane_." + +"You are not sure of--what?" + +"That Charlotte Carleton is quite in her sane senses." + +Sir Isaac stared at his brother as though asking whether he was in +_his_. + +"Are you jesting, Frederick?" + +"No. I am in sober earnest." + +"Then perhaps you will tell me what grounds you have for saying this." + +And here was Frederick's dilemma. What grounds had he? None. The +reasons that seemed weighty enough to his own mind, were as nothing +when spoken; and it suddenly struck him that he was not justified in +repeating the gossip of a girl as careless as Rose. + +"I have seen a strange look in her face more than once," he said; "a +wild, awful expression in her eyes, that I don't believe _could_ visit +the perfectly sane. Isaac, on my honour I don't speak without +believing that I have good reason--and that it lies in my duty to do +so." + +"I think you speak without grounds, Frederick," said Sir Isaac, +gravely. "Many of us look wild enough at times. I have noticed nothing +of this." + +"She is on her guard before you." + +"That is nonsense. Insane people are no more on their guard before one +person than another. Did you go to sleep and dream this?" + +Frederick winced. He saw that Isaac was laughing at him. "There are +other indications," he said. + +"What are they?" + +Could he answer? Could he tell the doubt, spoken by Georgina--that the +lady had been in her room in the night? Could he tell of the meeting +with Honour on the stairs? Of the telegram he had surreptitiously +read? And if he did, what proofs were they? Georgina might have had +nightmare: Mrs. Carleton's horror at sight of Honour was not +unnatural: and Prance's telegram need not refer to her mistress. No; +it was of no use mentioning these: they might weaken rather than +strengthen Isaac's belief. + +"Isaac, I am almost sorry that I spoke to you," he resumed. "To my own +mind, things are pretty conclusive, but I suppose they would not be so +to yours." + +"Certainly not, unless you have other grounds than 'looks' to go upon. +Why did you mention the matter at all?" + +Frederick was silent. The true motive--the fear that Isaac might be +drawn into marrying her--he could not reveal. He might have been +misconstrued. + +"Did you enter on this to prejudice me against her?" + +"Well--yes; in a sense I did." + +"That you might get her away from Castle Wafer?" + +"Yes, also." + +"Then all I can say is, I don't understand you: unless, indeed, you +are more insane than she is. She may stop here for ever if she likes. +Remember, I enjoy the revenues that were once hers. And please don't +attempt anything of this sort again, Frederick." + +Sir Isaac left the dining-room as he spoke, and Frederick took his hat +and went out, his veins tingling with a sense of shame and failure. He +_could_ not speak to more effect than he had spoken now; that wretched +self-consciousness withheld him: and yet he felt that Isaac ought to +be warned. Were he indeed to marry her, and find out afterwards that +she was insane, Frederick believed that it would kill him. + +Ill at ease, he strode on towards the Rectory, Georgina having exacted +a promise from him that he would go and learn at what hour Dr. and +Mrs. Beauclerc were expected. They had already arrived. The dean was +in his study alone, his genial face bent over sundry letters he was +opening. A few threads of silver mingled now with his light auburn +hair, and his shoulders were slightly stooping; but his eyes, the very +counterpart of his daughter's, were frank and benevolent as ever, and +his hand was as cordial. + +Losing his own father at an early age, and being much with Dean +Beauclerc, it is possible that Frederick St. John had insensibly grown +to look upon him almost in the light of a father. Certain it was, that +as he shook hands now with the dean, an impulse came over him to +confide his trouble to him. None would give him wiser and more honest +counsel than this good man. With Frederick St. John to think of a +thing was to do it impulsively; and, without an instant's +deliberation, he entered on his story. Not, however, mentioning +Georgina as in any way connected with it. + +The dean listened attentively to its conclusion, and shook his head. +"Very slight grounds indeed, my young friend, on which to suspect a +woman of insanity." + +"I know it," answered Frederick; "there lies my stumbling-block. Were +they only a little stronger, I should feel more at liberty to pursue +any course of action that might appear advisable." + +"Your chief fear is--if I take your meaning--that this lady is making +herself too agreeable to Sir Isaac." + +"Yes; but pray don't misunderstand me, Dr. Beauclerc," was the eager +rejoinder. "Were she a person likely to bring Isaac happiness, I would +further the matter to the utmost; I would indeed. Do you not see how +difficult it is for _me_ to interfere? Ninety-nine persons out of a +hundred would say I did so from interested motives; a fear of losing +the inheritance. I declare before Heaven, that it is not so: and that +I have only my brother's happiness at heart. He is one of the justest +men living, and if he were to marry, I know he would first of all +secure me an ample fortune." + +"My opinion is that he never will marry," said the dean. + +"I don't know. I have the fear upon me; the fear of _her_. Were he to +marry her, and afterwards discover that she was not quite right, I +believe it would kill him. You know, sir, his great sensitiveness." + +"Just go over again what you have said," returned the dean. "I mean as +to Mrs. Carleton's symptoms." + +Frederick St. John did so. He related what Rose had told him; he +mentioned the wild and excited looks he had himself observed in Mrs. +Carleton; he spoke of meeting Honour on the stairs; of the telegram +sent by Prance. Somewhat suspicious circumstances, perhaps, when taken +together, but each one nothing by itself. "Nevertheless, I believe in +them," he concluded. "I believe that she is not sane." + +"I wonder if there has ever been insanity in her family?" mused the +dean--who by no means saw things with Frederick's eyes. "Let me +see--who was she?" + +"She was a Miss Norris. Daughter of Norris, of Norris Court. Mrs. +Darling." + +"Oh, to be sure," interrupted the dean, as recollection came to him. +"I knew her father. I was once a curate in that neighbourhood." + +Mr. St. John looked up at the high-church dignitary before him. "_You_ +once a curate!" + +The dean laughed. "We must all begin as curates, Frederick." + +The young man laughed also. "You knew Mr. Norris, then?" + +"Yes; slightly. I once dined at his house. My church was on the +confines of Alnwick parish, not very far from Norris Court. Mr. Norris +died just as I was leaving. He died rather suddenly, I think. I know +it took the neighbourhood by surprise. And, if I remember rightly, +there seemed to be some mystery attaching to his death." + +"What did he die of?" + +"No one knew. It was in that that the mystery lay. Report said he died +of fever, but Mr. Pym, the surgeon who attended him, told me it was +not fever; though he did not say what it was." + +"Is that Pym of Alnwick?" + +"Mr. Pym was in practice then at Alnwick. He may be still, for aught I +know." + +"He is. I met him twice at Alnwick Hall when I went down to the +funerals; George St. John's and poor Benja's. Isaac was too ill to go +each time, and I had to represent him. Do you"--he paused a moment in +hesitation, and then went on--"think it likely that Mr. Norris died +insane? I am sure there is no insanity on Mrs. Darling's side." + +"I have no reason for thinking so," replied the dean. "I was in want +of a servant at the time, and a man who had lived with Mr. Norris +applied to me for the situation. It was the surgeon, Pym, who spoke to +his character: Mrs. Norris was ill and could not be seen. I engaged +him. He had been the personal attendant of Mr. Norris in his last +illness." + +"Did he ever say what Mr. Norris's disease was?" + +"No. He was very reserved. A good servant, but one of the closest men +I ever came across. I once asked him what illness his master had died +of, and he said fever. I observed that Mr. Pym had told me it was not +fever. He replied he believed the illness had a little puzzled Mr. +Pym, but he himself felt sure it was fever of some description; there +could be no doubt whatever about it." + +"Is he with you now?" + +"No, poor fellow, he is dead. My place was too hard for him, for I +kept only one man then, and he left me for a lighter one. After that +he went back to his late mistress, who had just married Colonel +Darling. A little later I heard of his death." + +Frederick St. John was paying no attention to this last item of +explanation: he had fallen into a train of thought. The dean looked at +him. + +"Dr. Beauclerc, if any one could throw light upon this subject, it is +Pym. I wish you would write and ask him." + +"Ask him what?" + +"What Mr. Norris really died of. It might have been insanity." + +"People don't generally die of insanity." + +"But there's no harm in writing. If you have no objection." + +"I'll think it over," said the dean. + +"And now I must go back," said Frederick, rising. "Will you walk with +me, and see Georgina?" + +"Ah, Frederick, you know how to tempt me! I would walk further than to +Castle Wafer to see _her_. My only darling: I believe no one in the +world knows her real worth." + +They went out together. Looking into the drawing-room for a minute +first of all, to tell Mrs. Beauclerc. She was there with Miss Denison, +a middle-aged lady who had come home with them for a long visit, and +who was one of the _bêtes noires_ of Georgina's life. + +Georgina was watching: whether for the possible sight of her father, +or for the more certain one of his companion--there she stood, half +in, half out of the open French window. Frederick stole a march upon +her. He made the dean creep round the corner of the house, so that she +did not see them until they were close upon her. He watched the +meeting; he saw the clinging, heartfelt embrace, the glad tears rising +to her eyes: never after that could he doubt the girl's loving nature. +Perhaps, with all her lightness, he had not doubted it before. + +"And where's mamma. Could she not also come?" + +"I left her to entertain Miss Denison." + +Georgina gave a scream. "Papa! You have never brought _her_ home!" + +"Mamma has done so. She has come for two months, Georgie." + +Georgie groaned. "Then I shall remain at Castle Wafer." + +"No, you won't," cried Frederick, and then hastened to turn his +apparent discourtesy into a laugh. "We wouldn't keep you, Georgina." + +"And I could not spare you," said the dean. + +They entered the room, Georgina--who so proud as she?--on her father's +arm. Sir Isaac, who was playing chess with Mrs. Carleton, rose to +welcome him. Mrs. Carleton rose also. She had never seen the Dean of +Westerbury, and the introduction took place. Calm, impassive, +perfectly self-possessed, she stood; exchanging a few words of +courtesy with the dean, her handsome features looking singularly +attractive, one of the beautiful crystal chessmen held between her +slender fingers. Not a woman in the world could look much less insane +than did Charlotte Carleton; and the dean turned his eyes on +Frederick, in momentary wonder at that gentleman's hallucination. + +Georgina stole up to the master of Castle Wafer. + +"You'll let me stay here, won't you, Sir Isaac?" + +"You know I will. _Let_ you stay!" + +"But you'll ask papa to let me stay?" + +"My dear, yes. Does he want to take you away?" + +"Of course he will want it. And--do you know what mamma has done? +Brought home with her that horrible Miss Denison. I wonder papa let +her. The last time she was with us--but that was at Westerbury--there +was no peace in the house for her. She was always quarrelling with me, +and of course I quarrelled with her again. Nothing that I did was +right; and one day she actually got mamma to lock me in my room for +two hours, because she said I had been insolent to her. You'll get +leave for me to stay, Sir Isaac?" + +He gave her a reassuring smile, and sat down to chess again. The dean +talked with Mrs. St. John, Georgina flitted incessantly from them to +the chess-players, making every one as merry as she was; Frederick +alone seemed quiet and abstracted. He sat apart, near the tea-table, a +cup before him, as if tea-drinking was his whole business in life. + +The evening wore on. When ten o'clock struck, the dean rose, saying he +had not supposed it to be so late. + +"You will spare Georgina to us a little longer?" said Sir Isaac. They +were still at chess, of which it seemed Mrs. Carleton never tired; and +he rose as he spoke to the dean. + +"Until tomorrow. She must come home then." + +"Oh, papa!" broke in the really earnest voice, "do let me stay longer. +You know why I wish to--it's because of that Miss Denison." + +The dean looked grave. + +"Only a few days longer, papa; just a few days. Then I will come home. +It will take me all that time to get over the shock." + +But there was a merry twinkle in her eye; and the dean smiled. Whilst +he was shaking hands with Mrs. Carleton, Georgina turned suddenly to +Frederick. "Won't you say a word for me? You once called Miss Denison +an old hag yourself." + +"It must have been when I was a rude boy," he answered. + +"But won't you?" + +"No," he said, in a low and unmistakably serious tone. "I would rather +you did not stay, Georgina." + +While Georgina was recovering from her surprise, she became conscious +of some commotion in the room. Turning, she saw a lady in travelling +costume, and recognized Mrs. Darling. Her appearance was exciting +universal astonishment: Frederick in particular rubbed his eyes to be +sure he was not dreaming. How quickly she had answered the telegram! + +It happened that the dean, the only one of the party not pressing +forward either in surprise or welcome, was close to Mrs. Carleton, and +had leisure to note her looks, though indeed chance alone caused his +glance to fall upon her in the first instance. Instead of pressing +forward, Mrs. Carleton drew back, seemed to stagger; her face turned +livid, her eyes were ablaze with a wild, curious light; and one of the +costly chessmen fell and was broken in pieces. It almost seemed to +have been crushed in her hand. Another had seen it too, Frederick St. +John. Was it a habit, then, of hers to be so unpleasantly excited +under any surprise? Or were these indeed signs of incipient insanity? +If the crystal had broken in her hand and not in the fall, she must +possess a strength beyond that of ordinary women. He, Frederick St. +John, had just time to see that the dean's gaze was riveted upon her, +before the stir became universal, every one talking at once, Mrs. +Darling laughing gaily. + +She knew she should take them by surprise, she was saying, as she +shook hands with one and another; had been enjoying it in anticipation +the whole day. From a communication received from her cottage at +Alnwick, she found her orders were wanted in some repairs that were +being done; so had started quite on a moment's impulse; and--here she +was, having determined to take Castle Wafer on her way, and see +whether Charlotte was ready to return home. Rose? Oh, Rose was quite +well, and staying with some friends in Paris, the Castellas. Darling +Charlotte! How well she was looking! + +Darling Charlotte had recovered from her emotion, and was herself +again,--calm, sweet, impassive Charlotte. After submitting to the +embrace of her mother, she turned in contrition to Sir Isaac. +Frederick and Georgina were both stooping to gather up the broken +crystal. + +Would Sir Isaac ever forgive her? That lovely set of chessmen! And how +it came to slip out of her hand, she could not imagine: how it came to +break on the soft carpet (unless indeed it struck against the foot of +the chess-table) she could not tell. In vain Sir Isaac begged her not +to think more of so trifling a misfortune: it seemed that she could +not cease her excuses. + +"Mrs. Carleton! look at your hand. You must have broken the bishop +yourself." + +The words came from Georgina Beauclerc. The fair white hand had sundry +cuts within it, and the red spots oozing from them had caught +Georgina's gaze as she rose from the carpet. One angry, evil glance +from Mrs. Carleton's eyes at the outspoken young lady, and then she +resigned the white hand to Sir Isaac to be bound up. + +"Strange, that we rarely can tell how these things happen," she said, +with a genial smile. "Miss Beauclerc must have a curious idea of +strength, to suppose my fingers could have broken that bishop. Thank +you very much, Sir Isaac." + +Frederick St. John went out with the dean. "I do hope you will write +to Mr. Pym?" he said. + +"I intend to," answered the dean. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. +WALKING OUT TO DINNER. + + +If Mrs. Darling's hurried visit to England was caused by the fact of +the repairs in progress at her cottage, being at a standstill, the +repairs must be at a standstill yet; for the lady did not go farther +than Castle Wafer. On the morning following her arrival, Sir Isaac +politely asked whether she would not remain a few days with them +before going on; and Mrs. Darling took him at his word and did remain. +Georgina also remained, and things seemed to go on very smoothly and +quietly, but Mrs. Carleton remained a great deal in her own room; and +to Mr. Frederick St. John's eyes her mother's face wore a strangely +haggard, anxious look. + +"Is Mrs. Carleton well?" he asked her one day. + +"Quite well, thank you," responded Mrs. Darling, stooping, as she +spoke, to pluck a geranium. + +"I have not liked her look at times," continued Frederick, boldly. "I +was fearing she was not in--altogether good health." + +"She is in excellent health," was the reply, and Mrs. Darling faced +the speaker with a look intended to express surprise. "Charlotte was +always strong. She and Rose are like myself, blessed with rude health: +I cannot say as much for the other two. I want to take Charlotte away +with me; but she does not feel inclined to come, and was quite angry +when she saw me arrive. She is very happy here." + +No more was said, for Mrs. Darling sauntered leisurely away. Frederick +St. John had gained nothing by his move. + +The dean, who had written to Mr. Pym, received in due course that +gentleman's answer. Mr. Norris, of Norris Court, had died mad. The +widow, subsequently Mrs. Darling, had hushed the matter up for the +sake of her child, and succeeded in keeping it secret. He, Mr. Pym, +had never disclosed it to mortal ears; but the high character of the +Dean of Westerbury was such that he knew he might safely confide the +fact to him. Indeed, from the tenour of the dean's letter, he felt +there might be some essential reason for not remaining silent. + +"You see," cried Frederick, when the dean showed him the letter, "I +was right." + +"Nay," dissented the dean. "Right as to your suspicion that madness +was in the family; but this does not prove that it has yet attacked +Mrs. Carleton." + +"I suppose it would not prove it to most minds; it does to mine, in a +very great degree. You will at least admit that this renders her a +most undesirable wife for Isaac." + +"Granted. But, Frederick, my opinion is that Sir Isaac is in just as +much danger from her as you are, and no more. Rely upon it he has no +idea of marrying." + +Frederick was silent. In a sense he agreed with the dean; but he knew +how subtle is the constant companionship of a designing and attractive +woman; and that the danger was all the greater where that +companionship had been previously held aloof from, as in the case of +Sir Isaac. + +Two or three days passed on, and nothing occurred to disturb the peace +even of fanciful Frederick St. John. The old routine of life was +observed at Castle Wafer, varied with visits to the Rectory, or with +the Rectory's visits back again. But for the suspicion he was making +so great a trouble of, Mr. St. John would have felt supremely happy. A +strangely bright feeling was stealing over him; a feeling whose source +he did not question or analyze. The influence of Georgina was quietly +making its way in his heart; perhaps, unconsciously to himself, it had +ever in a degree lain there. + +Mrs. Darling sat in her room, writing letters. Mrs. Carleton was with +her, looking from the window, the folds of her silver-grey brocade +rustling with every movement. She wore very slight mourning now. + +"Charlotte, my dear child," suddenly cried Mrs. Darling, "I am +writing to the cottage. Let me once again ask you when you will be +ready to go with me?" + +"Never--to Alnwick. When I left the cottage to become George St. +John's wife, I left it, as a residence, for ever." + +"Where _will_ you go? Will you go into Berkshire?--will you go to +London?--to Brighton?--to Paris? Only say where--I don't wish to force +you to Alnwick." + +"Mamma, I beg you not to worry me on this point. I am very comfortable +at Castle Wafer, and you need not try to force me away from it. It is +lost labour." + +Mrs. Darling made no reply. It would have been useless. All her life +she had found it "lost labour" to endeavour to force Charlotte to do +anything against her will; and sometimes she felt the yoke upon her +was a very heavy one. She bent over her writing again in silence. +Presently Charlotte spoke, abruptly: + +"How long is that girl going to remain here?" Mrs. Darling's train of +thought just then was roaming to many things, pleasant or unpleasant, +and she thought "that girl" must mean Honour Tritton. Charlotte's eyes +were ablaze with light at the mistake; and Mrs. Darling could have +bitten her tongue out for her incaution in mentioning the name. What +she next said, did not mend it. + +"Charlotte, my darling, I really beg your pardon. I'm sure I don't +know how I came to think of her, unless it was that I was talking to +her this morning. You----" + +"Talking to _her!_" came the imperative interruption. "I should like +to know, mamma, what you can have to say to her. If every one had +their deserts, Honour Tritton would be--would be---- What did she +presume to say of me?" + +"My dear Charlotte!" cried the unfortunate mother, half aghast at the +tone in which the last sentence was spoken, "she did not presume to +speak of you at all. It was only a casual meeting in one of the lower +passages. She just dropped a curtsey, and asked how I was: that was +all." + +"She presumed to put herself in my way the other day, that woman; I +know that," scornfully returned Mrs. Carleton. "But that it might be +said I made too much of a trifle utterly beneath me, I should ask Sir +Isaac to banish her from Castle Wafer." + +"Oh, Charlotte! What, because she--she happened to meet you?" + +"No. For the misery she wrought in the years gone by. I wonder what +brought her _here_--why she came?" + +Mrs. Darling had heard of the meeting with Honour on the stairs, and +knew as much of the scene as though she had been present. She passed +to another topic. + +"Then it was of Miss Beauclerc you spoke, Charlotte?" + +"It was of Miss Beauclerc. _I want to know what she stops here for_." + +The low, impressive whisper in which this was spoken, astonished Mrs. +Darling. What had Charlotte got in her head now? + +"My dear, it cannot matter to you whether she stays here or whether +she goes home." + +"But it does matter: it matters very much. She is staying as a spy +upon me." + +"A spy? Charlotte!" + +"She is. She is doing what she can to turn Sir Isaac against me." + +"Oh, Charlotte! Indeed you are mistaken. I am quite sure she is doing +nothing of the sort." + +"I tell you yes. Look there!" + +Mrs. Darling rose in obedience, and glanced from the window in the +direction in which Charlotte had pointed. Georgina Beauclerc, in her +flowing dinner-dress of a clear white muslin, was marching about with +Sir Isaac, both her hands clasped upon his arm, her pretty head and +its silken hair almost touching his face as she talked to him. That +Sir Isaac was bending down to the fair head, a great deal of tender +love in his face, might be discerned even at this distance. + +"He promised to ride out with _me_ this afternoon; he was going on his +pony, and I was to try Mr. St. John's grey horse, and she came and +took him from me. He gave me up for her with scarcely a word of +apology, and they have been away together for hours somewhere on foot. +She cannot let him rest. The moment she is dressed for dinner, you +see, she lures him to her side again. And you say she is not plotting +against me?" + +What could Mrs. Darling reply? The idea had taken possession of +Charlotte, and she knew that no earthly argument would turn it by so +much as a hair's-breadth. The shadow of a trouble that she should not +have strength to combat fell upon her; and as Charlotte abruptly left +the room, she took a letter from her pocket and read it with a gleam +of thankfulness, for it told of the speedy arrival of one who might be +of use. + +Mrs. Carleton descended, glancing to the left and right of the broad +staircase, into all its angles, over the gilded balustrades down on +the inner hall, as had been her custom since that encounter with +Honour. Not with open look, but with stealthy glance, as if she +dreaded meeting the woman again. She went into the drawing-room, and +stood gazing through the open window with covert glances, partially +shielding herself behind the blue satin curtains. Georgina was on the +terrace with Sir Isaac, and on them her regard was fixed. A gaze, +evil, bitter, menacing. Her eyes shone with a lurid light, her lips +were pale, and her hands were contracted as with irrepressible anger. +In the midst of these unwholesome signs, as if instinct whispered to +her that she was not alone, she turned and saw, quietly seated at a +table near, and as quietly regarding her, Frederick St. John. + +She came up to him at once, her brow smoothed to its ordinary +impassiveness. + +"What a warm afternoon it has been, Mr. St. John!" + +"Very warm." + +"You are ready for dinner early," she said, in allusion to his notably +late appearance for that meal; often coming in after they had sat down +to table. + +"I don't dine at home today. I am going with Miss Beauclerc to the +Rectory." + +"And Sir Isaac also?" she quickly asked. + +"I think not." + +Sir Isaac and Georgina approached the window. They, with Frederick, +had walked to the Rectory that afternoon, and the dean asked them to +come in to dinner. It was very dull, he said, with only Miss Denison, +who generally contrived to act as a wet blanket. So it was arranged +that Georgina and Frederick should go; but Sir Isaac could not +promise. It appeared that Georgina was now urging him to accompany +them. Her voice was heard in the room. + +"It is very uncharitable of you, Sir Isaac. You know what papa said it +was for him, with that statue of a woman there. If _you_ were shut up +in a house with a female Hottentot, and you asked papa to come in as a +relief, he would not think of refusing." + +"But I can't go," returned Sir Isaac, in laughing tones. "I told the +dean that Mrs. St. John was not well enough to come down." + +"And you will let me walk all that way without you! It's not kind, Sir +Isaac. Suppose I get run away with? There may be kidnappers in the +shrubbery." + +"You will have a more efficient protector with you than I could make; +one young and powerful--I am old and weak." + +"Never old to me--never old to me. Oh, I _wish_ you would come!" + +"I wish I could, Georgina; you know that when you leave me, half my +sunshine goes also. But I must head the table at home, in the absence +of Mrs. St. John: I cannot leave my visitors." + +"Tiresome people!" apostrophized Georgina, in allusion to the lady +visitors. "I know you would rather be with us. I shall tell papa that +if he is fixed with Miss Denison, you are fixed with Mrs. Carleton. I +don't see how you would get through your days with her just now, if it +were not for me." + +She stepped into the room, a saucy expression on her charming face; a +loving smile on Sir Isaac's. Mrs. Carleton was in time to catch a +glimpse of each as she swiftly glided away in the distance; and +neither had the remotest suspicion that their conversation had been +overheard. + +Frederick St. John rose. "I think we shall be late, Georgina." + +"Shall we! I shall say it was your fault," cried the happy girl, as +she caught up her white mantle and straw hat from a chair. "I'm ready +now." + +"Won't you put your cloak on?" + +"No. I am only taking it to come back in tonight. You may carry it +for me." + +She placed it on his arm; and with her face shaded only by her little +dainty parasol, they went out. Mrs. Carleton was at one of the other +windows watching the departure. + +"Do you know the time, Georgina?" he asked. + +"Oh--more than five, I suppose." + +He held his watch towards her. It wanted only twenty-five minutes to +six. "Of course you can say it is my fault if you like; but Mrs. +Beauclerc will be excessively angry with both of us." + +"Not as angry as Miss Denison will be," returned Georgina, laughingly. +"Fanciful old creature! saying she gets indigestion if she dines later +than half-past five. If I were papa, I should let her dine alone, and +order the regular dinner at seven. See how quickly she'd come to her +senses." + +"If you were your papa you'd do just as he does" cried Frederick. "And +when you have a house of your own, Georgina, you will be just as +courteous as he is." + +"Shall I? Not to Miss Denison. But I should take care not to have +disagreeable people staying with me. I wouldn't have Mrs. Carleton, +for instance." + +"Do you think Mrs. Carleton disagreeable?" he asked. "I have heard you +say you liked her." + +"So I did at first. I pitied her. But she gets very disagreeable. She +looks at me sometimes as if she would like to kill me, and--see what +she did yesterday." + +Georgina extended her wrist towards her companion. There was a blue +mark upon it, as from pressure. + +"How did she do this!" he exclaimed, examining the wrist. + +"Not purposely, of course; that is, not intending to hurt me, I +differed from her: it was about going out with Sir Isaac. She said it +was too hot for me, and I said the hotter the pleasanter; and she +caught me by the wrist as I was running away. I cried out with the +pain; indeed it was very sharp; and Sir Isaac heard it outside and +looked back. She laughed then, and so did I, and I ran away. This +morning I saw that my wrist had turned blue." + +"Did you tell Isaac of this?" + +"I don't remember. Stay, though--I think I told him Mrs. Carleton had +been preaching morality to me, as connected with sunstrokes and +freckles," continued the careless girl "Please loose my hand, Mr. St. +John." + +He released her hand, saying nothing. Georgina floated on by his side, +her blue ribbons and her fair hair flashing in the setting sun as they +passed through the shrubbery. + +"I think she must be frequently out of temper," continued Georgina, +alluding still to Mrs. Carleton. "Did you see her as we passed the +window just now? She looked so cross at me." + +"I presume she thinks she has cause for it," observed Mr. St. John. + +"What cause?" + +"She is jealous of you." + +"Jealous of me?" + +"Of you and Sir Isaac." + +Georgina's grey eyes opened to their utmost width as she stared at the +speaker. + +"Jealous of me and Sir Isaac? Why, what could put such an idea into +her stupid head? How _could_ she be jealous of me, in relation to Sir +Isaac? She might as well be jealous of papa." + +"I suppose she thinks that she, as chief guest, ought to receive more +of the host's attention than any one else," he said, not caring to be +more explanatory. "And therefore she does not like your monopolizing +Isaac." + +"Oh!" cried Georgina, turning up her pretty nose. "I declare I thought +you meant it in another light. I'll take up Sir Isaac's attention all +tomorrow, just to tease her." + +He made no reply. He was thinking. It had not been his fault that +Georgina's stay at Castle Wafer was prolonged; but he had seen no +feasible way of preventing it. And yet there was always an +undercurrent in his heart--a wish that she was away from it, beyond +the risk of any possible harm. + +"Please put the mantle over my shoulders, Mr. St. John." + +"Ah, you are getting cold! You should have put it on at first." + +"Getting cold this warm afternoon! Indeed no. But in one minute we +shall be in the Rectory grounds, liable to meet mamma or her charming +guest. They would sing a duet all dinner-time at my walking here in +nothing but my dinner-dress. Miss Denison comes out before dinner, and +creeps round the paths for half-an-hour. She calls it 'taking her +constitutional.' Thank you; she can't find fault now." + +Mrs. Beauclerc was a fretful lady of forty-five; Miss Denison was a +fretful lady of somewhat more: and Georgina was greeted with a shower +of reproaches, for having kept dinner waiting. She laid the blame on +Mr. St. John; and Miss Denison looked daggers at him to her heart's +content. + +"I could not make him believe you were dining at the gothic hour of +half-past five," cried the imperturbable girl. "The more I told him to +hasten the less he did so. And, mamma, Mrs. St. John says will we all +go to Castle Wafer for the evening." + +She stole a glance at him. He was standing calm, upright; a +half-tender, half-reproving look cast upon her for her nonsense. But +he contradicted nothing. + +The dean and Mr. St. John were sitting alone after dinner, when a +servant came in and said a gentleman was asking if he could see Dr. +Beauclerc. The dean inquired who it was, but the servant did not know: +when he requested the name, the gentleman said he would tell it +himself to the doctor. + +"You can show him in here," said the dean, who was one of the most +accessible men living. + +The servant retired, and ushered in a little grey-haired man in +spectacles. The dean did not recognize him: Frederick St. John did, +and with some astonishment. It was Mr. Pym of Alnwick. + +He explained to the dean that a little matter of business had brought +him into the neighbourhood, and he had taken the opportunity +(following on the slight correspondence which had just taken place +between them) to call on Dr. Beauclerc. Dr. Beauclerc--who was not +addressed as "Mr. Dean" out of his cathedral city as much as he was in +it--inquired how long he had been in the neighbourhood, and found he +had only just arrived by the evening train,--had come straight to the +Rectory from the station. + +A suspicion crossed the dean's mind, and he spoke in accordance with +it. "Did Mr. Pym come from Alnwick on purpose to see him?" + +"No," said the little surgeon, taking the glass of wine the dean +passed to him, but declining other refreshment. "I have been summoned +to the neighbourhood of Lexington to see a patient; and as I was on +the spot, I thought I would call upon you, Dr. Beauclerc. My chief +motive in doing so," he added, after a brief pause, "was to inquire +whether you had any particular reason for asking me those questions." + +The dean looked at Frederick St. John, as much as to say, Shall we, or +shall we not confide in this medical man? + +"I do not inquire from motives of idle curiosity, Dr. Beauclerc," +resumed the surgeon, marking the dean's hesitation. "Believe me, I +have an urgent reason for wishing to know." + +"Better tell him everything," cried Frederick, who had read the dean's +look, and was vehement in his earnestness. "I am sure Mr. Pym may be +trusted; and perhaps he can help us with his advice." + +"Very well," said the dean. "But you know, Frederick, the suspicion is +more yours than mine." + +"Yes, yes; I take it all upon myself," was the young man's impatient +answer, so fearful was he of losing this new ally. "Mr. Pym, you have +known Mrs. Carleton St. John all her life, have you not? She was +Charlotte Norris." + +"Yes, it may be said that I have known her all her life. I brought her +into the world." + +"Well, a disagreeable suspicion has recently come upon us in regard to +her--upon me, that is. An awful suspicion; one that I do not like to +mention." + +"What is it?" cried the surgeon. + +"I fear that she is showing symptoms of insanity." + +Frederick St. John looked at Mr. Pym as he spoke, expecting a start of +surprise. Far from evincing any, that gentleman quietly raised his +wine to his lips, sipped it, and put the glass down again. + +"Ah," said he. "Well?" + +Then Mr. St. John poured forth his tale. He who was usually almost +coldly impassive, who had every tone of his voice, every pulse of his +veins under control, seemed this evening to have become all impulse +and excitement. But in telling his story, he grew gradually calm and +cool. + +Mr. Pym listened in silence. At the conclusion of the story he waited +a minute or two, apparently expecting to hear more, but the narrator +had ceased. He spoke then. + +"You are sure about that telegram--that it was Prance who sent it?" + +"Quite sure. There can be no mistake about that." + +"A cautious woman," observed the surgeon. "She mentioned no name. You +see it might have applied to any one as much as to Mrs. Carleton." + +"The very remark I made," interposed the dean, and it was the first +word he had spoken. "I tell Mr. St. John that the symptoms and facts +he thinks so much of are very slight." + +"Too slight to pronounce any one insane upon," said the doctor. "Will +you be so good as tell me, Mr. St. John, what _first_ gave rise to +suspicion in your mind? It is a rare thing, however eccentric our +friends' actions may be, for us to take up the notion that they are +insane." + +"What first gave rise to the suspicion in my mind?" repeated +Frederick. "Why, I don't suppose I ever should have thought of it but +for--but I forgot to tell you that," he broke off, suddenly +remembering that he had omitted to mention what Rose Darling had told +him at Belport. + +He related it now. The assertions of the nurse Brayford that Mrs. +Carleton was mad; her terror at the sight of the lighted lanterns in +the Flemish town on St. Martin's Eve. Still Mr. Pym said nothing: he +only took out a note-book and entered something in it. + +"Can you not help us, Mr. Pym? Do you not think she must be insane?" + +"I cannot say that. But I may tell you that I have always feared it +for her." + +"Her father died mad, you wrote word to the dean." + +"He died raving mad. You have confided in me, and I see no reason why +I should not tell you all I know--premising, of course, that it must +not be repeated. His madness, as I gathered at the time, was +hereditary; but he had been (unlike his daughter) perfectly well all +his life, betraying no symptoms of it. I was sent for in haste one +night to Norris Court. I was only a young man then--thirty, perhaps; +I'm turned sixty now. My predecessor and late partner, Mr. Jevons, had +been the usual attendant there, but he had retired from business, and +was very infirm. I thought I was wanted for Mrs. Norris, whom I was to +attend in her approaching confinement; but when I reached the Court, I +found what it was. Mr. Norris had suddenly become mad; utterly, +unmistakably mad; and Mrs. Norris, poor thing, was nearly as much so +with terror. He had always been of a remarkably jealous disposition; +some slight incident had caused him to become that day jealous of his +wife, without, I am certain, the least foundation, and after an awful +scene, he attempted her life with his razor. In her endeavour to +escape from him, she dashed her hand through a mirror, whether +accidentally or purposely she could not afterwards remember. Never +shall I forget her dismay and terror when I reached the Court. Her +husband was tolerably quiet then; exhausted, no doubt, from violence; +and his own man, James, was keeping guard over him. That night we had +to put him into a strait-waistcoat. Mrs. Norris, poor young lady--and +she was not twenty then--cried most bitterly as she told me the tale +of her husband's jealousy. She could not imagine what had given rise +to it. She had only received some gentleman, a friend of theirs who +had often called, and had sat and talked with him in the drawing-room, +as she would with any other visitor; but the jealousy, as I explained +to her, preceded the attack of madness. In three or four days the +child Charlotte was born. I took the baby in to Mr. Norris, thinking +it might possibly have a soothing effect upon him. It had just the +contrary--though it is unnecessary to recall minor particulars now. He +had seemed better that day, quite collected, and his servant had +removed the strait-waistcoat. An accession of violence came on at +sight of the child; he sprang out of bed and attempted to seize it; I +put the baby down under the bed, while I helped James to overpower his +master; but it was the hardest struggle I had ever been engaged in. +Mr. Norris never was calm afterwards, and died in a few days, raving +mad." + +"But," interrupted the dean, "how was it possible to keep this state +of things from transpiring in the house? The domestics understood, I +believe, that their master died of fever." + +"True, Dr. Beauclerc. Fortunately the room to which Mr. Norris was +taken was shut in by other surrounding apartments, and no sound +penetrated beyond it. The servants were kept away by a hint of +infection; a confidential man from an asylum was had in to assist +James and take turn in watching--the servants supposing him to be +merely a sick-nurse. Poor Mrs. Norris entreated for her child's sake +that the nature of its father's malady might be suppressed, if +possible; and the secret was kept. Whether it was well in the long-run +that it should be so kept, I have often asked myself." + +Mr. Pym paused in thought. Frederick St. John interrupted it. + +"You say this madness was hereditary?" + +"Mr. Jevons managed to get to the Court when he found what had +happened. It appeared that some near relatives of Mr. Norris--two, I +think--had died abroad, insane. Mr. Norris was aware of this, and had +been fond of talking of it to Mr. Jevons: the latter thought he had +feared the malady for himself. He had used to say that he should never +marry; and that resolution Mr. Jevons emphatically endorsed. However, +he did marry, and, of course, Mr. Jevons had no power to prevent it. +These particulars I learned of Mr. Jevons as I was driving him to the +Court. Mrs. Norris begged to be made acquainted with all details; and +after her husband's death Mr. Jevons disclosed them to her, +suppressing nothing. What a changed woman she was from that time! and +I believe would then have been thankful had her baby died. 'It must be +my care to prevent its marrying, should it live to grow up,' she said +to Mr. Jevons in my presence; and ten times over during that one +interview she begged him to tell her whether he thought the child +would inherit the fatal disease." + +"But the child did marry," interrupted the dean. "Married Mr. Carleton +St. John." + +"Yes. I believe Mrs. Darling did try to prevent it, but it was of no +use. Whilst she concealed the reason, arguments could not fail to +prove powerless. It might have been better--I don't know--had she +allowed her daughter to become acquainted with the truth. My opinion +is, that Charlotte has more than once, even before her marriage, been +on the verge of insanity. In her attacks of temper the violence +displayed was very great for a person perfectly sane." + +"Did Mrs. Darling ever attempt to excuse this violence to you?" + +"Mrs. Darling has never spoken to me on the subject at all since her +first husband's death," replied Mr. Pym. "She has ignored it. But for +an expression at times in her face, I might suppose she fancied that +all recollection of the tragedy had faded from my mind. When I heard +that George St. John was about to marry Miss Norris, I called on Mrs. +Darling, and in the course of conversation I said, incidentally, as it +were, 'Will this marriage be for your daughter's benefit, think you?' +and she seemed offended, and said, Of course it would--what did I +mean?" + +"Could you not"--Frederick St. John hesitated as he spoke--"have +whispered a word of warning to Mr. George St. John?" + +"I suppose not. The thought crossed me, but I could not see that I was +justified in carrying it out. Had Mrs. Darling met me in a different +manner, I might have ventured. I don't think it would have done any +good, though. George St. John was in love with Miss Norris, or fancied +himself so; and would most likely have married her in spite of +caution." + +"In her life, subsequently to her marriage, were there at any time +indications of insanity?" + +"I feel tempted to say there were, though I could not bear witness to +it in a court of law," was the reply of Mr. Pym. "One thing is +indisputable--that she inherited her father's jealousy of disposition. +I don't know what it might have been in him; but in her it was in +excess so great as to be in itself a species of madness. She was not, +that I ever heard, jealous of her husband; it displayed itself in her +jealous love for her child. Until he was born, I don't think she had +one of those paroxysms of violence that those about her called +'temper.' George St. John could not understand them. These fits of +passion, coupled with the fierce jealousy that was beyond all reason, +all parallel in my experience, were very like madness." + +There was a pause. Frederick St. John broke it with a question. + +"Did you suspect--I mean, was there any cause to suspect--that she had +a hand in the little boy's death--Benja's?" + +"I did suspect it. That is, I doubted whether it might not be so," +said Mr. Pym, in low tones. "There was an ugly point in the matter +that I have never liked--that of the doors being fastened. But I am +bound to say there was no proof against her. Still I could not get rid +of my doubts, and I think her mother entertained them also." + +"Mrs. Darling!" + +"I think so. We both caught each other in the act of trying whether +the bolt would slip when the door closed, in the manner asserted. You +see, when a suspicion of insanity attaches to a man or woman, we are +prone to imagine things that we should never think of doing under +ordinary circumstances." + +"Very true," emphatically assented the dean. + +"The most bitter person upon the tragedy was Honour; it was only +natural she should be so; but even she did not suspect Mrs. Carleton. +She spoke against her in her ravings, but ravings go for nothing. If +Honour suspected any one, it was Prance rather than Mrs. Carleton." + +"Prance!" echoed Mr. St. John. + +"She told some tale, at the time, of having seen Prance hiding in a +niche of the corridor, opposite the nursery door. I did not think much +of it, from the state of confusion in which Honour must then have +been; and Prance denied it _in toto_: said she had never been there." + +"Then you cannot give me any help?" said Frederick St. John, in tones +of disappointment. "You are unable to bear out my suspicions of her +present madness?" + +"How can I bear them out?" asked Mr. Pym. "I have not seen her." + +Frederick drummed for a minute on the table. "Don't you think it +strange that Prance should telegraph for Mrs. Darling in the manner +she did, and that Mrs. Darling should hasten to respond to it--on the +wings of the wind, as one may say--and stay on at Castle Wafer?" + +"I do," was the surgeon's reply: "assuming that the message related to +Mrs. Carleton, of which I suppose there can be no doubt. Mrs. Carleton +is not ill in body; therefore it must have had reference to her mind." + +"I wish you could see her!" impulsively spoke Frederick, "and watch +her as I have done." + +"I intend to see her," said Mr. Pym. "I thought of calling at once on +Mrs. Darling; now, as I leave you." + +"Do so," cried Frederick. "Contrive to remain a few days at Castle +Wafer. You can say that you are my guest. Stay; I'll give you the +invitation in a careless sort of way before them all tonight, and you +can accept it." + +"We will see about that," said the surgeon, rising. "I had better be +going, if Dr. Beauclerc will excuse me, or it may look late to call. +Perhaps you will direct me the nearest way to Castle Wafer." + +"I will go with you," said Mr. St. John. "The nearest way is through +the shrubberies. We shall be there in five minutes." + +They went out together, the dean saying he would follow with the +ladies, as they were all to spend the evening at Castle Wafer. But +when the dean reached the drawing-room he found they had already gone, +and he did not hurry himself. + +It was a lovely moonlight night, clear and bright, and Mr. St. John +and the surgeon commenced their walk, talking eagerly. Mr. St. John +told him, what he had not liked to mention before the dean--Mrs. +Carleton's jealousy of Miss Beauclerc; the occasional wildness of her +eyes when she looked at her, and the little adventure in Georgina's +chamber at midnight. "It is an awful responsibility that rests upon +us," he remarked. "I feel it so, Mr. Pym, now that I have heard your +story tonight. If her father went mad from jealousy, and attempted the +life of his wife, Mrs. Carleton may be attempting some violence to +Miss Beauclerc." + +"Miss Beauclerc is young and good-looking, I suppose." + +"Both; and her manners are perfectly charming. She is just the girl +that would be obnoxious to a rival." + +"It is all fancy, I presume, on Mrs. Carleton's part. There is nothing +between Miss Beauclerc and Sir Isaac?" + +Frederick St. John broke into a laugh. "Sir Isaac loves her as he +would a child of his own; and she venerates him as a father. There is +no other sort of love between them, Mr. Pym." + +Mr. Pym took a side glance at the speaker. Something in the tone had +struck him that some one else might be a lover of Miss Beauclerc's, if +Sir Isaac was not. + +"Even allowing that Mrs. Carleton has been sane hitherto, and my +suspicion a myth, it would never do for her to marry Sir Isaac," +resumed Frederick. "You would say so if you knew my brother and his +extreme sensitiveness. The very thought of his wife being liable to +insanity would be to him perfectly horrible." + +"It would be to most people," said the doctor. + +"I think he must be told now. I have abstained from speaking out +hitherto, from a fear that my motives might be misconstrued. My +brother, a confirmed old bachelor, has brought me up to consider +myself his heir; and it would look as though I were swayed by +self-interest." + +"I understand," said the surgeon. "But he must be saved from Mrs. +Carleton." + +"I cannot bring myself to think that he is in real danger; I believe +still that he has no thought of marrying, and never will have. But +Mrs. Carleton is undeniably attractive, and stranger things have been +known." + +"The better plan would be to lay the whole case before Sir Isaac. It +need not be yourself. I should suggest Dr. Beauclerc. And then----" + +The surgeon ceased, arrested by the warning hand of Frederick. They +had turned into the dark labyrinth of a place where the artificial +rocks rose on the confines of the Rectory grounds. Georgina Beauclerc +was walking very deliberately towards them. Not at her did Frederick +lift his hand; but at a swift, dark figure, who was following her +silently as a shadow, stealthily as an omen of evil. Frederick St. +John sprang forward and clasped Georgina in his arms. + +The dark figure turned suddenly and vanished; but not before its +glaring eyes and its white teeth had been seen by the unwelcome +intruder. He recognized Mrs. Carleton, her black lace shawl thrown +over her head. + +"Well, I'm sure!" exclaimed Georgina. + +It all passed in an instant. Georgina had heard nothing, seen nothing; +and she felt inclined to resent Mr. St. John's extraordinary movement, +when the first surprise was over. He held her for a moment against his +beating heart; beating more perceptibly than usual just then. + +"What did you do that for? Were you going to smother me?" + +"I did it to shield you from harm, my darling," he whispered, +unconscious, perhaps, that he used the endearing term. Rarely had +Frederick St. John been less himself than he was at that moment. Miss +Beauclerc looked at him in surprise; in the midst of her bounding +pulses, her glowing blushes, she saw that something had disturbed his +equanimity. + +"What are you doing out here alone?" + +"You need not be cross"--and indeed his sharp quick question had +sounded so. "As if I could not take a stroll by moonlight if I like! +Perhaps you are afraid of the moon, as mamma is." + +"But what were you doing? Had you come from Castle Wafer? You must not +go out at night alone, Georgina." + +"Oh indeed; who says so?" she returned, with wilful impertinence; but +it was all put on to hide the ecstatic rapture his one word had +brought to her. "If you must know, mamma and Miss Denison kept up such +a chorus of abuse of me as we went to Castle Wafer, that I would not +go on with them. I came slowly back to meet you and papa." + +He had drawn her arm within his own, and was leading her back to the +Rectory. She could hardly keep up with him. + +"Where are you hurrying me to?" + +"To the dean. He will take care of you to Castle Wafer." + +It may be that she thought some one else might have taken care of her. +But she said nothing. Just before they reached the Rectory door, Mr. +St. John stopped under the shade of the laurels. + +"Georgina, I must say a serious word to you. Put away nonsense for a +minute, and hear me. I think I have saved you from a great danger; +Will you make me a promise in return?" + +"From a great danger!" she repeated, the words rendering her as +serious as he was. "What danger? What can you mean?" + +"I cannot tell precisely what danger, neither can I say more +particularly what I mean. Nevertheless I think I am right. It is not +good for you to be about alone just now, whether before nightfall or +after it. You must give me your promise not to be so." + +"What is there to harm me?" she whispered, involuntarily clinging more +closely to his arm. + +"Leave that with me for the present. Only trust me, and do as I say. +Will you promise?" + +"Yes, if there is a necessity for it. I promise you." + +Her earnest face was raised in the moonlight. She had never seen him +so solemn as now. He bent his head. + +"Will you seal the compact, Georgina?" + +Instinct, and the grave tender tone, told her what he meant. Her eyes +filled with tears; but she did not draw her face away, and he left a +kiss upon her lips. + +"Mind, Georgina, that's as binding as an oath," he said, as he walked +on. "Take care that you strictly keep your promise. There is urgent +necessity why you should do so. Sometime I may tell you why, if you +are good. I may be telling you all sorts of things besides." + +Her face was bent to conceal its hot blushes. Heaven seemed suddenly +to have opened for Georgina Beauclerc. + +"Halloa!" cried the dean, as he met them in the hall. "I thought you +had gone on with your mamma, Georgina." + +"She came back to walk with you, sir," said Mr. St. John, only waiting +to speak the words and then hastening away again. + +Mr. Pym was standing near the rocks as he got up to him. "Where did +you hide yourself?" cried Frederick. "You seemed to vanish into air. I +could see you nowhere." + +"I slipped behind here," answered the surgeon, indicating the rocks. +"Was not one of those ladies Mrs. Carleton?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, I thought it might be as well for her not to see me here. I +wish to call at Castle Wafer by accident, you understand." + +Frederick St. John nodded. "Could you see her teeth and her glistening +eyes? She was stealthily following Miss Beauclerc. _For what purpose?_ +I am thankful we were here." + +"Where is Miss Beauclerc now?" + +"She is coming on with the dean. I have cautioned her not to go out +alone. Mr. Pym, what is to be done? This state of things cannot be +allowed to go on. I call upon you, as a good and true man, to aid us, +if it be in your power." + +Mr. Pym made no reply. He walked on in his favourite attitude, his +hands clasped behind his back, just as he was walking in that +sorrowful chamber, the evening you first beheld him; and his face +wore, to Mr. St. John's thinking, a strangely troubled look in the +moonlight. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. +ON THE TERRACE. + + +Mr. Pym went to the house alone. Frederick St. John met him in the +hall as if by accident, and took him at once into the dining-room. Any +suspicion that they had met before at the Rectory and come away from +it together, was as far from the minds of the assembled company, as +that they had both dropped from the clouds. + +Mrs. St. John, who was better and had come down since dinner, Mrs. +Beauclerc, Mrs. Carleton, and Sir Isaac, had sat down to whist. Mrs. +Darling and Miss Denison were talking to each other at the centre +table; Miss Denison abusing Georgina as the wildest girl in +Christendom, Mrs. Darling protesting that she could not be half so +wild as her own daughter Rose. Mrs. Darling was all wonder and +astonishment when Mr. Pym came in. What _could_ have brought him to +Lexington?--how very kind of him to call and see her. And it was she +who took him up to introduce him to Sir Isaac. + +One moment's recoil, one startled look at the face, and Mrs. Carleton +held out her hand to the little surgeon, and was her own calm and +gracious self. Seated at whist there, opposite to Sir Isaac, her voice +low and sweet, her manner so gentle and collected, it would never have +entered into any one's mind to imagine that _she_ had been gliding +about stealthily in the moonlight like a ghost, or a female poacher on +forbidden ground: and perhaps the surgeon might have been excused his +momentary doubt whether it was really Mrs. Carleton that they had +seen. + +"How well you are looking!" he exclaimed, as he shook hands with her. + +And it was no hollow compliment. The woman he saw before him now, +radiant in beauty, was no more like the distressing shadow he had +visited at Ypres, than he himself was like a lamp-post. Mrs. Carleton +laughed. Yes, she said, she was quite well now. + +Mr. Pym begged he might not interrupt the game, and drew away. Close +upon that, the dean and his daughter came in, and then came tea. Ere +the surgeon had well swallowed his, he was pacing the terrace outside +with Mrs. Darling, no one paying attention to them. + +"You see I have obeyed your summons, Mrs. Darling," he began; "have +called at Castle Wafer by accident, as you desired. What is the +business that you wish to consult me upon?" + +Mrs. Darling had caught up her daughter's black lace shawl as she left +the room, and put it over her head; just as Charlotte had so recently +worn it upon hers. She pulled it tightly round her silk gown as she +answered-- + +"I wish to speak to you about my daughter: I fear she is ill." + +"In body, or in mind?" + +A moment's struggle with herself ere she should answer. But no; even +now, although she had summoned the surgeon, at a great cost and +trouble, to her aid, she _could_ not bring her lips to admit a hint of +the fatal malady. + +"In mind!" she echoed, rather indignantly. "I don't know what you +mean, Mr. Pym. What should be wrong with Mrs. Carleton's mind?" + +"As you please," he said, with indifference. "I can go back tonight +if I am not wanted." + +They had come to the end of the gravel walk, and Mrs. Darling stood +still, apparently contemplating the lovely prospect to be seen from +Castle Wafer. How anxious looked her face in the moonlight; but for +those betraying beams the surgeon might not have read the struggle +that was going on within her breast. + +"Why should you think anything was wrong with her mind?" she again +asked, but this time the tones were of pain, not of resentment. + +"Mrs. Darling, it may be as well that we should understand each +other," said he. "I did not come here to be trifled with. Either let +there be confidence between us, or let me go back whence I came. It +may facilitate matters if I tell you _I_ have cause to suspect your +daughter's mind to be at present not altogether in a healthy state. If +I do go back, I fear it will be my duty to intimate as much beforehand +to Sir Isaac St. John." + +She looked perfectly aghast. "What do you mean, Mr. Pym?" + +"I mean just what I say, and no more. Oh, Mrs. Darling, what nonsense +this is--you and I to play at bo-peep with each other! We have been +doing it all the years of your daughter's life. You cannot forget how +much I know of the past: do you think I have drowned my memory in a +draught of Lethe's waters? Surely if there is one man on earth whom +you might consult confidentially, it is myself. I know as much as you +know." + +Mrs. Darling burst into tears, and sobbed for some minutes. "I shall +be better now," she said; "it will do me good. Heaven alone knows what +the tension has been." + +"And now just tell me the whole, from beginning to end," said Mr. Pym, +in a more kindly tone, "you ought to have done it years ago. You may +be sure I will do what I can for the best: and there may be safety in +counsel." + +Now that the ice was broken, she entered pretty freely into details, +and soon experienced that relief, and it may also be said that +satisfaction in talking, which this confidential disclosure of some +long-secret trouble is sure to bring. She told Mr. Pym how, ever since +Benja's death, she had had her doubts of Charlotte's perfect sanity: +and she freely confessed that her hasty return to Castle Wafer was +caused by a telegraphic message from Prance, who was growing alarmed +at her mistress's symptoms. + +"What symptoms were they?" inquired the doctor. + +"I don't know that I can enumerate them to you; they were little odds +and ends of things that Prance has noticed. Not much, taken +separately, but curious in the aggregate. Of course the message did +not contain them: I have learnt them since I arrived. One thing I +disliked more than all the rest--Prance awoke one night and found her +mistress was out of the room. She was hastening away in search of her, +and saw her coming out of Miss Beauclerc's chamber. Now, for some +reason or other, Charlotte has taken a prejudice against Miss +Beauclerc----." + +"A moment, Mrs. Darling. If I am to help you with advice, you must +speak without disguise. Do not say 'for some reason or other;' tell +the reason, if you know it." + +Another struggle with herself: _must_ she confess? Mrs. Darling +clasped her hands in pain. + +"Oh, how cruel it is to have to say these things! And of Charlotte, +who has always been so reticent, so honourable, whatever her other +failings. There! let me speak out and have done with it. I believe she +is jealous of Miss Beauclerc: of Miss Beauclerc and of Sir Isaac St. +John." + +"Your daughter would like to remain here for ever--mistress of Castle +Wafer, and Sir Isaac's wife?" + +"Yes, I do believe it is so. And I could have believed such planning +of any one in the world rather than of Charlotte. I have striven to +persuade her to leave with me, and it is of no use. I would not for +the world that she should marry again." + +"She ought not to have married at all," remarked the surgeon. + +"I could not help it. I did my best. You don't know what a care +Charlotte has always been to me!" + +"To return to Miss Beauclerc. Do you fear Mrs. Carleton might injure +her?" + +"Not if she retains her reason. But--should that leave her, even +momentarily,--Mr. Pym," she broke off, "it was because I found myself +incompetent to deal with these troubles that I wrote for you." + +"You must take her away from Castle Wafer without delay." + +"But she will not be taken away. In all ordinary matters she is as +sane as I am; as capable of judging, of arguing, and of sensibly +acting. It is only now and then that a sort of paroxysm comes over +her. It may be only violent passion, to which you know she has ever +been subject; but, it may be something worse. She is then, as I +believe, incapable of controlling her actions; and should she find an +opportunity of doing an injury at these times he might do it. There +are two people in this house against whom I can see she is desperately +incensed: Miss Beauclerc and Honour Tritton. Should she find herself +alone with either of them in one of these paroxysms----" + +Mrs. Darling stopped. The subject was too painful to continue. But the +surgeon took up the thread in a quiet tone. + +"We might have a second edition of the Alnwick tragedy." + +Mrs. Darling--he could see it in the bright night--seemed to recoil a +step. But she strove to answer with more than customary calmness. + +"The Alnwick tragedy! I do not understand." + +"When Alnwick's heir was--killed." + +"Oh, Mr. Pym, Mr. Pym! you _cannot_ think that was anything but a +miserable accident?" cried the unfortunate mother. "It was nothing +else. Honour alone was in fault." + +"It may be that we shall never know," he answered. "My +impression--nay, my belief--you and I had better be outspoken now, +Mrs. Darling--always was, that Mrs. Carleton _had_ something to do +with that. I think at the time you entertained the same opinion." + +Mrs. Darling made no answer. She walked on, her scared face raised in +that tell-tale moonlight; her very lips white. + +"I thought the probabilities, knowing what you and I know, were +greatly against her at the time," repeated the surgeon; "I think them +greater now. You are aware, I presume, that the imaginary image of +Benja and the lighted church haunted her for months? And in that show +of lanterns in France, on St. Martin's Eve----" + +"How did you hear of that?" interrupted Mrs. Darling. "Oh, I get to +hear of many things," was the reply. "It does not matter how. I fear +this terror, in one so cold and impassive as your daughter has always +been, is rather suggestive of a guilty conscience." + +"Why recall this?" asked Mrs. Darling, with a sob. "I think you are +wrong in your suspicions." + +"I do not recall it to give you pain. Only to impress upon you how +essential it is, with these doubts upon our minds, that Mrs. Carleton +should be removed from Castle Wafer." + +"Indeed, I see it as strongly as you do. But you know what her _will_ +has always been. And if our suspicion of her state of mind is wrong, +and she is really sane, we are not justified in forcing her actions. +Can you remain a few days and watch her, so as to form an opinion of +her state? There's a plain, comfortable inn at hand, the Barley Mow, +and you could be here very much in the daytime." + +"For the matter of that, I could contrive to get invited to stay +here," observed the surgeon, with a cough. "That good-natured brother +of Sir Isaac's is sure to ask me. And, to tell you the truth, Mrs. +Darling, if I undertake to watch her at all, it must be a close and +uninterrupted watch." + +"Close and uninterrupted!" repeated Mrs. Darling, whom the words did +not altogether please. "I am so very fearful of any suspicion being +excited abroad as to Charlotte's state." + +"That suspicion already exists," remarked the doctor. "Your daughter's +manners--these paroxysms that you speak of--have been observed and +commented on. It was only a post or two before I got your summons, +that I received a letter from this neighbourhood, implying doubts of +Mrs. Carleton's state of mind, and inquiring if I could inform the +writer whether insanity had been in her family." + +Mrs. Darling's breath was nearly taken away with astonishment. "Who +could have sent the letter? Surely, not Sir Isaac!" + +"The letter was a confidential letter, and I cannot name the writer." + +"If it was not Sir Isaac, it must have been Frederick St. John. Why +need _he_ meddle?" + +"It was neither Frederick St. John nor Sir Isaac: I may tell you that +much. I only mention this to prove to you that even were we willing to +allow matters to go on as they have been going, it is now impossible. +A weighty responsibility lies upon me, Mrs. Darling: and something +must be done in one shape or another. Had I received no summons from +you, I think I should still have come to Lexington." + +Mrs. Darling walked to the end of the terrace before replying. Matters +seemed to be growing complicated. Was the time of exposure really +come? It had always lain upon her with an awful dread. + +"But what can you do?" she asked. "Suppose, after watching Charlotte, +you come to the conclusion that there's nothing really the matter with +her----" + +"But I should not come to that conclusion," he interrupted. "Were I to +remain in the house a month, and see no proof whatever of insanity, I +could not be sure that it did not exist. We know how cunning these +people are, and----" + +"Oh, Mr. Pym, how cruelly you speak!" + +"I am sorry to do so. What I was about to say, in answer to your +question, is this. Allowing that I perceive no present grounds for +alarm, I must still assume that such grounds do exist; in short, both +you and I know they do: and there will be one of two courses to +pursue. Either you must remove your daughter from Castle Wafer before +I quit it: or I must get rid of my responsibility by disclosing my +fears to Sir Isaac St. John." + +"No, no; not to him--not to any one if it can be prevented," implored +Mrs. Darling. "I will get Charlotte away. Anything rather than make +the dread public. Think how long I have succeeded in concealing it." + +"To speak to Sir Isaac would not be to make it public. And I have +already told you, Mrs. Darling, it is not so entirely a secret as you +have supposed. However, if you remove Charlotte, undertaking that she +does not return, there will be no cause for my speaking to any one." + +"I'll do it all; I'll try and do it," said Mrs. Darling. "And now +about your own stay at Castle Wafer. How shall you manage it?" + +"Leave it to me," replied Mr. Pym. "We medical men often possess a +pass-key in an emergency. I think Mrs. Carleton will not like my +staying. She did not seem pleased to see me." + +"No?" + +"It struck me that she did not. I observed a strange sort of shiver, a +look of terror, pass over her face when she saw me." + +"How observant you are!" was Mrs. Darling's comment, "_I_ saw nothing +of it." + +"It is our business to be observant." + +"Of course. And very useful I dare say you find the habit." + +"You spoke of Honour Tritton," resumed the surgeon, passing by the +other remark. "Why do you suppose----" + +"Hush!" breathed Mrs. Darling in a warning voice, and she laid her +hand upon his arm to enforce the caution more emphatically. "Is that +Charlotte?" + +Some one had cautiously raised the window of an upper room, and was +peeping out. Mr. Pym's quick eyes saw at once that it was not +Charlotte, but Prance. Mrs. Prance had her share of curiosity as well +as more demonstrative people. + +"We had better go in, Mrs. Darling," remarked the surgeon. "Should +Mrs. Carleton come out and see us talking together, she might fancy my +visit here had reference to her, and be forthwith on her guard +accordingly. As she was--I know she was--on her guard when I went to +Ypres." + +The evening was not quite over, when the anxious pacers on the terrace +re-entered the drawing-room; the whist players were just rising. Mrs. +Carleton came over at once to Mr. Pym. Handsome and stately did she +look, her rich dress sweeping the ground; her face calm, her manner +gracious, she seemed just as sane as Mr. Pym himself. He happened to +be looking with some interest at Miss Beauclerc; a fair, lovely, +attractive girl, in her pretty white dress, and with her grey-blue +honest eyes. + +"When did you come to Lexington, Mr. Pym?" + +The question proceeded from Mrs. Carleton, who had slipped into a seat +beside him. He answered that he had arrived only that evening; had +been sent for to see a patient. + +"Who is it?" she asked. + +"A young man suffering from heart disease," promptly responded Mr. +Pym, deeming this positive evasion justifiable under the +circumstances. + +"And so you took the opportunity to call at Castle Wafer!" she said. +And there might have been the slightest possible resentment +perceptible in the tone, though not to an ear less quick than the +surgeon's. + +"Just so," he answered. "When we have nothing particular to do with +ourselves, we are apt to make use of any past civilities that may be +available. I remembered that Mr. Frederick St. John, when I met him at +Alnwick, proffered me an invitation to call at Castle Wafer, should I +ever travel to its vicinity." + +"Oh!" she said. "Fred St. John's rather fond of those impromptu +invitations. Do you go back tomorrow?" + +"Not unless my patient shall have done with me." + +Mr. Pym remained at Castle Wafer, a temporary guest. In the most +natural manner conceivable, Frederick St. John, without being +suspected of any ulterior motive, pressed the invitation on the little +surgeon. Castle Wafer would be a more comfortable roof for him than +the Barley Mow, and his sojourn there would afford him, Frederick, an +opportunity of improving the acquaintance begun at Alnwick, he +graciously observed, when they had met at the funeral of Mr. Carleton +St. John. Mr. Pym suffered himself to be persuaded. And thus the +surgeon took up his task of watching Mrs. Carleton, a very +private-detective; installed thereunto by two anxious parties, neither +of whom suspected the connivance of the other. What wheels within +wheels there are in this world! + +In one sense of the word, the step might have been dispensed with, for +it did not serve to prevent the disclosure to Sir Isaac St. John. Mrs. +Darling's great hope from the respite of the two or three days' +watching, was, that she should in the meanwhile succeed in inducing +Charlotte to bid adieu to Castle Wafer, and thus obviate the necessity +for any appeal to Sir Isaac. It might have proved so, so far as Mr. +Pym was concerned; but the initiative was taken by the dean. + +Very disagreeably impressed by the fresh doubts of Mrs. Carleton's +sanity, acquired during the evening visit of Mr. Pym to the Rectory, +the dean considered that there was now sufficient matter to justify a +communication to Sir Isaac. He resolved to make it himself; and on the +following morning, the one succeeding Mr. Pym's arrival, he went up +for that purpose to Castle Wafer, and procured a private interview +with Sir Isaac in his sitting-room. + +A very different story, this, from the one sought to be told the other +evening by Frederick. As the dean, calm, sensible, reliable, went +through the whole, point by point, concluding with the fact that Mr. +Pym was at Castle Wafer for no other purpose than to watch Charlotte +Carleton, Sir Isaac listened with increasing wonder. + +"And you say Frederick knew of this!" he exclaimed. "Why did he not +tell me?" + +"He did attempt to tell you; but failed. I suppose his ultra +self-consciousness and the fear that even you might misconstrue his +motives, withheld him from saying more." + +"How could I be likely to misconstrue them?" + +The dean said how. Which certainly did not tend to decrease the wonder +of Sir Isaac. + +"He has been assuming that Mrs. Carleton was looking after me! That +she had designs upon me! _Me!_ You must be mistaking me for +Frederick." + +"Certainly not for Frederick. Frederick's private opinion is, that the +young woman hates him. I fancy there's not much doubt that she would +have no objection to your making her Lady St. John." + +When Sir Isaac fully comprehended this hypothesis as to himself, which +he had little difficulty in doing, he burst into an uncontrollable fit +of laughter. The dean saw how it was: Isaac St. John had been so +firmly fixed in his resolution never to marry, had _lived_ so in it, +that the very notion of his breaking it, or of any woman's thinking +she could induce him to break it, seemed to him nothing less than an +impossibility. + +"Then you never had an idea of Mrs. Carleton?" observed the dean. + +"I never had an idea of Mrs. Carleton in that sense of the word, or of +any one else," answered Sir Isaac. "I should as soon think of getting +hanged as of getting married. And I do believe you must be wrong in +supposing she has entertained such a notion. A young and pretty woman +want to tie herself to me! Why, look at me; at what I am. No, no: it +is not likely. And it was only the other day she lost her husband and +her child; her heart must be buried with them for some time yet to +come." + +"Well, there lay the cause of Frederick's hesitation," said the dean. +"With this idea upon him, no wonder he was tenacious of speaking. I +confess I did not agree with him. I thought you were no more likely to +take a wife than I am--who possess one already. + +"It will be a joke against Frederick for the rest of my days," said +Sir Isaac. "_I_ marry? I wish, by the way, _he_ would marry! But about +poor Mrs. Carleton? I should like to see Mr. Pym." + +The surgeon was summoned to the conference. And after the dean's +departure, he disclosed to Sir Isaac the fear of her attempting some +injury to Miss Beauclerc or to Honour: of which the dean remained in +ignorance. + +"There is only one thing to do," was the conclusion, come to by Sir +Isaac. "Inhospitable though any such measure may seem, Mrs. Carleton +must this day quit Castle Wafer." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. +LOCKED IN. + + +Mr. Pym appeared to make himself at home at Castle Wafer. One of the +best chambers had been assigned him, its door opening exactly opposite +to the room occupied by Mrs. Carleton and by Prance. And that +gentleman retired to rest with his door propped back, and his gaze on +the corridor. Perhaps he slept with his eyes open. + +In the morning he was up betimes. Going downstairs, he sought Honour, +and sat in the housekeeper's room while he talked to her. He had +really no ulterior motive in this; but he was a sociable man, and he +merely wished to be civil to the girl, whom he had once seen so much +of as Benja's nurse. + +Honour was excessively gratified. In the first place at seeing the +surgeon again; in the next at indulging her gossiping propensities. +She had heard little or nothing of Alnwick since she quitted it: Mrs. +Tritton having left the Hall and the neighbourhood soon after herself. +Question after question did she ask Mr. Pym of the changes, and would +probably have gone on for an hour of her own good will, but that Mr. +Pym, who was remarkably quick of sight and hearing, and why he wore +glasses no one ever could make out--detected some faint sound or +movement at the partially closed door, as if somebody were listening +at it. + +"Is any one wanting to come in, Honour?" + +Honour pulled the door open, and saw nothing. But a faint rustling, as +of some person turning from the door as soon as he spoke, had caught +Mr. Pym's ears. + +"Look out," said he, sharply. + +Honour looked out, and was just in time to see the petticoats of a +lady disappearing round the corner of the passage, and to recognize +them as Mrs. Carleton's. + +"Mrs. Carleton, was it?" observed the surgeon carelessly, as she made +the remark. "Does she often pay you a visit here, Honour?" + +"I never saw her here before, sir. Perhaps she was coming in search of +you." + +"Ah, perhaps so," replied Mr. Pym, carelessly. "What were you saying, +Honour?--that you heard I went over to Germany to see the boy? Well, +it's true. Whether it was Germany or France, or any other habitable +part of the globe, though, I can't take upon myself to say. I could +not do him any good. He was at death's-door then. How did you hear +it?" + +"From Mrs. Darling, sir. She often said a word to me when she was +staying here the last time, and she mentioned that you had been had +over to Master George, but it was of no use. What a sad thing it was +that the child could not be cured!" + +"Ay. There are many sad things in the world, Honour; sadder even than +that. Well, I must go, or I shall keep breakfast waiting. You'll see +me again before I leave." + +He made his way to the breakfast-room, and sat down to breakfast with +the rest. Mrs. Carleton's face was impassive as usual: but the surgeon +saw that she watched him just as keenly as he did her. After +breakfast, as if to defeat the purpose for which he was staying at +Castle Wafer, she shut herself up in Mrs. St. John's room, and no one +could get near her. It was during this time that the interview took +place between the dean and Sir Isaac. + +"I entrust it all to you, Mr. Pym," Sir Isaac had said. "Perhaps +speaking to Mrs. Darling will be sufficient: but--you know the laws of +hospitality--I would rather not appear at all in this matter if I can +help it. Let the departure be your doing--you understand. Only in case +of necessity bring in my name." + +Mr. Pym's first step was to seek Mrs. Darling. _She_ was shut up in +her room too; so, after waiting for some time, he sent a message to +her, and she came to him. The observant surgeon saw that there was a +blank, disappointed look in her face. + +"I can do nothing with Charlotte," she exclaimed. "She refuses most +positively to quit Castle Wafer: and when I urged it, she put an end +to the colloquy by leaving me. What is to be done?" + +The surgeon could not say what was to be done. Only that to get away +Mrs. Carleton that day was indispensable. + +Mrs. Darling, poor woman, began to temporize. Charlotte was perfectly +well now, she was sure, and a day or two's delay could make no +difference. Tomorrow, perhaps, or the next day, she might be induced +to hear reason. At length Mr. Pym--for Mrs. Darling seemed inclined to +become obstinate in her turn--was obliged to hint at the commands of +Sir Isaac. + +Mrs. Darling was bitterly incensed, believing that Mr. Pym had been +the informant. "I did not think you would have been so treacherous," +she exclaimed. "You promised me not to speak to Sir Isaac until all +means had been tried to get Charlotte away." + +"I did not speak to him. He spoke to me." + +"He spoke to you! First?" + +"Yes. He sent for me into his room, and entered upon it." + +"Who could have told him?" cried Mrs. Darling, after a mortified +pause. And Mr. Pym remained silent: it was not his business to speak +of the dean. + +"The less we discuss this matter the better, Mrs. Darling. It would +bring no profit. All we have to do is to remove your daughter. And if +I were you I would let this hint about Sir Isaac be as if it had not +been spoken. It would be painful to you to show consciousness of it; +doubly painful to him. He is a true gentleman: but tales have been +carried to him of Mrs. Carleton's state of mind, and he deems it +necessary that she should not remain." + +"I would give half I am worth to know who it is that has been +meddling!" exclaimed Mrs. Darling. "What is to be done? Will you speak +to Charlotte?" + +"Of course I will. If you cannot persuade her, I must try my powers. +It will be a very awkward thing if we have to get her away by force or +stratagem." + +"By stratagem we shall never accomplish it," said Mrs. Darling. +"Charlotte is too keen to be imposed upon." + +He waited until luncheon-time. He thought it better to lead to an +interview with Mrs. Carleton, than to send and demand it. She came +down with Mrs. St. John, and the luncheon passed off as usual, every +one being at table except Sir Isaac. Mr. Brumm said his master was +taking luncheon in his room, but offered no other apology for his +absence, and Georgina went boldly in to him. + +But Mr. Pym was destined to be defeated, at least in a degree. He +whispered to Mrs. Carleton to come and walk with him on the terrace as +they rose from table, and drew her hand within his arm and went out +with her. It was a dull lowering day, threatening rain, and she looked +up at the skies with rather a vacant look. Mr. Pym told her as gently +as he could, that it was deemed necessary she should have change of +air; that he and Mrs. Darling were both anxious on the score of her +health, and thought immediate change of scene essential. She laughed +in his face; she set him and her mother at defiance; she spoke of +appealing to Sir Isaac: and then Mr. Pym hinted--as he had done to her +mother--that Sir Isaac acquiesced in the measure. + +No sooner had the words left his lips, than a change passed over her +face. Medical man though he was, Mr. Pym shrank from it: never had its +aspect been more livid, its expression so wildly terrible. He caught +her arm, put it within his, and began to speak words of soothing +kindness. But she broke from him; muttered something incoherently +about the plot against her, which those in the house had been planning +to carry out, and escaped indoors. Mr. Pym had little doubt that by +"those in the house," she meant Miss Beauclerc and Honour. It is very +likely she included himself and Mrs. Darling. + +He followed her; he called Mrs. Darling to his aid. That she had +secreted herself in her own room, they found at once, since the door +was fastened inside, and no reply was given to their knocks. The +surgeon grew alarmed. This state of things was more than likely to end +in a paroxysm of insanity. By-and-by mutterings were heard inside; +violent pacings of the room; short derisive laughs; and one shrill +scream. Mrs. Darling was nearly beside herself; and Prance--Prance the +impassive--for once betrayed terror. + +"I shall break open the door," said Mr. Pym. + +But he went first of all to apprise Sir Isaac of what he was going to +do. Sir Isaac gave him _carte blanche_ to do what he pleased; but +urged that poor Mrs. Carleton's comfort should be studied as much as +was practicable. And under the circumstances he did not press for her +departure; only stipulating that Mr. Pym should undertake the charge +of her until she did leave. + +When Mr. Pym got back to the corridor, he found the dismayed watchers +and waiters outside it, Mrs. Darling and Prance, had been joined by +another--Honour Tritton. + +It is not possible for a commotion such as this to occur in a house +without its sounds transpiring to the household. Quietly as these +knockings and callings had been carried on, news of them penetrated to +the servants below. "Mrs. Carleton had bolted herself in her chamber, +and could not be got at." Honour, in her interest, it may be in her +curiosity, went upstairs at once. Perhaps she deemed she had a sort of +right to do so, from her former relations with Mrs. Carleton. + +Mr. Pym scarcely noticed her. The noise inside the room had increased; +that is, the pacings to and fro were louder and quicker. Mrs. Darling +clasped her hands in helpless dismay: she lifted her imploring face to +the surgeon; she put her lips to the key-hole for the twentieth time. + +"Charlotte! my darling Charlotte! I want to come in. I must come in. +I--I have left a key in your room. It will soon be time to dress for +dinner." + +There was no response. But the pacings increased to a run. The dull +day had become darker, and Honour turned into Miss Beauclerc's room, +and brought out a tall wax candle, lighted, in a silver candlestick. + +"Mrs. Carleton, I must beg of you to unlock the door," cried out the +surgeon. "If you do not, I shall be compelled to break it open. Pray +undo it." + +It was of no avail. A mocking laugh was again heard, but there was no +other response. + +"Take care of yourselves," said Mr. Pym. + +The door flew open with a burst. The first object they saw was Mrs. +Carleton, standing against the opposite wall and glaring at them. +Glaring! the word has been used often in regard to her eyes at times, +but there is no other so applicable. Mr. Pym went straight up to her. +She eluded him with a spring, pounced upon the unsuspecting and +terrified Honour, and in another moment was grappling with her, a +fight for dear life. + +Poor lady! What her thoughts had been during that self-imprisonment +she alone knew. That they had tended rapidly to increase the mind's +confusion, to speed her on to the great gulf of insanity, already so +near at hand, perhaps to have been its very turning-point, there could +be no doubt of. And it may be that the sight of Honour amidst her +enemies, of Honour bearing a lighted candle, recalled her mind to that +dreadful night not yet two years gone by. + +Whatever it may have been, whether any single cause, or many causes +combined: the mortification of being turned from Castle Wafer, the +visit of Mr. Pym, the seeing him that morning with Honour, or the +opposition and confusion of this one afternoon: certain it was, that +the moment her mother and Prance had been dreading in secret so long, +had come. Mrs. Carleton was insane. + +It took all three, the surgeon, Mrs. Darling, and Prance, to secure +her in her violence: just as it had taken more than one to secure her +father in the years gone by. Honour was released, terrified nearly to +death, bruises on her arms, and a bite on her cheek, of which she +would never lose the mark. + +When she was secured from doing harm to herself or others, Mr. Pym +touched Prance, and motioned her to a room apart. Had Prance been +capable of astonishment at anything, she might have felt it then. He +closed the door and pointed to a chair. + +"The time for evasion has gone by," he began. "Tomorrow will see your +mistress in an asylum, Prance, from which she can never more be +released in safety. And--do you know for what cause I have brought you +here?" + +"No, sir," answered Prance; but in some hesitation, as if she +half-divined what the cause might be. + +"I am about to speak of that past night at Alnwick; the burning +of Benja. I feel as sure"--and he raised his finger to her +impressively--"that your mistress had something to do with that, and +that you knew it, as I am that you are before me there. Few persons +can deceive me; and your manner that night and subsequent to it, +clever as you may have thought yourself, convinced me there was a tale +to tell. I did not press for it then; I had my reasons; but I must +hear it now." + +"I had nothing to do with it, sir," replied Prance, not daring to +equivocate; feeling perhaps, with him, that the time for suppression +had gone by. + +"I don't suppose you had," returned Mr. Pym. "But you were in that +niche, where Honour saw you, for all that. Come! You must acquaint me +with the particulars of that night: they may be a guide to my +treatment of your mistress. I must know them, whether or not. Did she +set the child on fire?" + +"No, sir, I don't think she did. At least, not intentionally." + +"At any rate, she was in the room at the time?" + +"Yes, she was. But I think he caught fire accidentally. There was some +scuffle, and I fancy his white pinafore set alight." + +"But she bolted the door upon him?" + +Prance actually for a moment looked distressed. "I'm afraid she did, +sir: the one door. The other, I have always believed, and always shall +believe, the child fastened himself." + +"She bolted it on him when he was burning?" + +"Ah, I don't know that, sir; I don't know it for certain." + +"You have feared it." + +"Yes; only that." + +Mr. Pym sat down in a chair opposite Prance, the table being between +them. "Begin at the beginning, Prance," he said. "This is a waste of +time. How much of that night's occurrences did you see and hear?" + +"You--you are not asking for the purpose of proving the crime against +her, are you, sir?" demanded Prance. + +"Of proving the crime against her, woman!" echoed Mr. Pym,served wrathfully. +"Your mistress is past having anything of that sort proved against +her: past its consequences, for that is, I presume, what you mean. Had +I wished to bring it home to her, I should have stirred in it at the +time. I have been as quiet and careful as you. Now then, begin. Let us +hear what you had to do with it, and what brought you in the niche. +You have not forgotten, I suppose?" + +"No, indeed, sir! I have thought of it all a great deal too often to +be pleasant," she said, leaning her head upon her hand. "The account I +gave before had very much of truth in it: though not the whole of the +truth," she added, after a pause. + +"Then tell the whole now," said Mr. Pym, growing impatient at the +delay. + +The substance of Prance's communication was as follows. After she had +been in the herb-room, she went upstairs to wash her hands, which had +become soiled from picking the herbs. Whilst in her chamber, which was +next to Mrs. Carleton's, she heard her mistress come up from the +dining-room and go into her chamber, and she followed her in, to ask +whether she wanted a light or anything, for it was getting quite +dusk. Mrs. Carleton was not in her room, but had gone through the +dressing-room, and was standing in the nursery, just inside the door, +apparently gazing at something, as one transfixed: a dull sort of +light came from the nursery, enabling Prance to see her distinctly. +Being rather curious, she peeped in, and saw Master Benja slowly +parading a lighted church about, which he carried before him: it was +on this her mistress's eyes were fixed. It was really a pretty object, +Prance said, lighted up in the dark room. The child was speaking; +words calculated to irritate Mrs. Carleton---- + +"What were they!" interrupted Mr. Pym, when Prance had got thus far in +her narrative. "Can you repeat them?" + +"'I'll tell you what I shall do, Honour, when I am master of +Alnwick,'" repeated Prance. "'You shall be mistress, and give all the +orders, and we'll have a great wall built up, so that mamma can't come +near us. But we'll have Georgy, and keep him to ourselves.'" Those +were the words, Prance continued, and they seemed to irritate her +mistress: she darted forward, and gave the child a sharp blow on the +ear. She (Prance) went away, leaving a sound of noise and crying +behind her. Declared, if it were the last word she had to speak, that +she had no thought of real injury. She went through the dressing-room, +through the bedroom, which door she shut, and went down into the +dining-room. Georgy was asleep on the large chair, his legs hanging +down. A very short while--immediately, indeed--her mistress followed +her down; noticed, and thought it very singular, that she bolted the +dining-room door after her. Seemed greatly excited; walked about in a +strange manner; Prance thought she must have been quarrelling with +Honour. Presently she sat down, and took Georgy's feet upon her lap. +This gave Prance an opportunity of slipping back the bolt, and +quitting the room. Had not liked to do so before; must have been there +at least a quarter-of-an-hour. Went up to her room; heard no noise +whatever; never supposed but that Honour was in the nursery with +Master Benja. Stood a minute or two in the passage, listening; thought +she might hear them speaking of the quarrel. Heard nothing--all was +quite still, and then supposed Honour had taken Master Benja down to +the servants' hall, which had been forbidden by Mrs. Carleton. Was +stealing along the passage to find this out, intending to tell of her, +when Honour came running up the backstairs, and Prance, not to be +seen, slipped into the niche until Honour should have entered the +nursery. Found then that Master Benja was in the nursery. Honour could +not open the door, and called out to ask why he had turned the button. +Was peeping out of the niche, and saw Honour drop a load of things +from her apron, and come flying past her into the dressing-room. Did +not think at the time she was seen; passage was pretty dark. Took the +opportunity to escape into her own room, and was lighting a candle +when Honour's cries startled her. Came out of her room, saw Honour +running down the front staircase, her cries awful. It brought the +servants from the kitchen, it brought Mrs. Carleton and Georgy out of +the dining-room; and then she (Prance) found out what had happened. +That was all. + +"And you mean to tell me you did not suspect anything wrong until +then?" asked Mr. Pym, as she concluded. + +"As I am a living, breathing woman, sir, I never suspected it," +answered Prance, showing for once some emotion. "I don't think Honour +herself was more shocked than I was." + +"And why did you not tell the truth about your being in the niche?" + +"Ah, sir, I did not dare. Might it not, in the questioning that would +have ensued, have directed suspicion to my mistress? The moment I +discovered that Honour was not in the room when my mistress attacked +Master Benja, I felt frightened to death, fearing she had done it. +I----" + +"Stay a minute. I don't understand," interrupted Mr. Pym. "You say you +looked into the nursery. You must have seen that Honour was not +there." + +"Indeed, sir, I did not. I saw but a very small portion of the room; +the door opens inwards to the wall, and obstructs the best part of the +room to any one standing as I did. I never supposed but that Honour +was present in her usual seat; otherwise I should not have left my +mistress alone with the child. The boy himself, helped to mislead me: +those few words he said appeared to be spoken _to Honour_. I concluded +afterwards, that when he heard his mamma enter, he must have thought +it was Honour who had gone in, and was too much occupied with his toy +to turn his head to look." + +"It's an awful thing!" ejaculated Mr. Pym. + +"It has driven my mistress mad," returned Prance. "But, sir--she did +not purposely set him on fire: she did not. I have gathered a great +deal from words she has let drop in her paroxysms, and I know it was +not done purposely. 'The church fell and set fire to his pinafore, in +blazing up,' she said one night when she was moaning: and I am sure it +did." + +"But she bolted the door on him." + +"Ah, yes, she did that; bolted it upon him, knowing he was on fire; +there's no doubt of it. I have gathered that much. I think at the +moment she was mad, unconscious of what she did. She is not naturally +cruel, only in these uncontrollable attacks. And then--and then----" + +"And then, what?" asked the surgeon. + +"She had taken too much wine that afternoon," continued Prance, +lowering her voice. "Not intentionally; not from the love of drinking: +unthinkingly, as it were. You see, sir, she had dined at the hour when +she usually took her luncheon, and she did not eat much, I noticed; +made a luncheon more than a dinner. But she seemed to have a great +thirst upon her, and drank a good deal of wine; champagne, and sherry, +and port; altogether, I think her head was a little confused; indeed, +I'm sure it was. She would not have beaten Benja in the dining-room, +but for that. Oh, the remorse that has been hers!" + +"I suppose so." + +"It is remorse that has turned her brain. I thought in Flanders it +would come on then; it did in a measure; but she got over it. Over and +over again would she have given her own life to recall the boy's; I +think she would even have given Georgy's. What she did, she did in a +moment of passion; of aberration; and she has repented it ever since, +and lived in dread of detection. Her horror of Honour has arisen from +the feeling that had the girl not left Benja alone, it could not have +happened, and she had not had the sin upon her. Indeed, sir, she is to +be pitied; to be pitied more than condemned." + +"Let us think so, at any rate, Prance," remarked Mr. Pym. "Does Mrs. +Darling know this?" + +"Well, sir, no; not exactly. I have dropped a word or two, and I know +she guesses the rest; but I have not said it." + +"Best not, perhaps," said the surgeon. "It is a secret that may remain +between you and me." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. +A MEETING IN PARIS. + + +"I Wonder why I am kept a prisoner here?" exclaimed Georgina +Beauclerc. + +She stood at the open French window of the Rectory drawing-room as she +said it, partly indoors, partly out, and her auditor was Frederick St. +John, who was coming along the gravel path, in the twilight of the +autumn evening, on his road from Castle Wafer. Georgina had happened +to walk over to the Rectory early in the afternoon, and a message +followed her from Sir Isaac, that she was not to go back to Castle +Wafer until sent for. The young lady was surprised, indignant, and +excessively curious. The message had arrived about three o'clock: it +was now very nearly dinner-time, and she was not released. The dean, +Mrs. Beauclerc, and their guest were at Lexington; consequently, Miss +Georgina had passed the hours by herself, and very dull they had been. + +He came up, taking off his hat as he approached, as if he were warm +from fast walking. Georgina retreated inside the room, but waited for +him at the window. + +"I have come to release you," he said, in answer to her question. "I +am glad you obeyed me, and stayed." + +"Obeyed you! I obeyed Sir Isaac." + +"It was I who sent the message, Georgina." + +"I wish I had known that!" she exclaimed, after a breathless pause. "I +never should have stayed." + +He laughed. "That's why I used Isaac's name. I thought you might not +be obedient to me." + +"Obedient to you, indeed, Mr. St. John! I should think not. Things +would have come to a pretty pass!" + +She tossed back her shapely head, to show her indignation. Mr. St. +John only laughed again. + +"Are they all out, Georgina?" + +"Yes, they are out, and I have been alone all these hours. I wonder +you don't take contrition to yourself." + +"I wonder at it too." + +"I should like to know the reason of my having been kept here? In all +the course of my experience I never met with so outrageous a thing." + +"Your experience has been so long a one, Georgie!" + +"Well, I am not going to be ridiculed. I shall go back to Castle +Wafer: perhaps Sir Isaac will be able to enlighten me. You can stay +behind here; they'll be home sometime." + +She tied her bonnet, fastened her mantle--having stood in them all +the afternoon, momentarily expecting to be released, as he had called +it--and was hastening through the window. Frederick laid a detaining +hand upon her. + +"Not yet, Georgina. I have come to stop your return to Castle Wafer." + +"I thought you said you had come to release me!" + +"I meant release you from suspense--to satisfy your curiosity, which +has, I suppose, been on the rack. You are not to come back to Castle +Wafer at all: we won't have you." + +"You can let things alone," returned Georgina, throwing off her +bonnet. "But I think you might have told me before now--keeping me +with my things on all these hours!" + +"I could not conveniently come before. Well, shall I relieve that +curiosity of yours?" + +Again she threw up her face petulantly. "That's just as you like. I +don't care to hear it." + +"You know you do care to hear it," he said. "But indeed, +Georgina"--and his half-mocking, half-tender tone changed to +seriousness--"it is a subject that I shrink from entering upon. Mrs. +Carleton is ill. That is the reason we are banishing you for the +present from Castle Wafer." + +Georgina's mood changed also: the past one had been all make-believe, +not real. + +"Ill! I am so sorry. Is it anything infectious?" + +"I will tell you what it is, Georgina: it is insanity. That she was +not quite sane, I have suspected some little time; but this afternoon +she has become very much worse. She locked herself in her room, and +Mr. Pym was obliged to burst the door open, and now she is--very +excited indeed. Mr. Pym told me he feared some crisis was approaching. +This was just after she fastened herself in her room; and I sent that +message to you at once. Isaac agrees with me that you had better +remain at home tonight: Castle Wafer will not be a very sociable +place this evening; and we must respect Mrs. Darling's feelings." + +"Oh, I see, I see!" impulsively interrupted Georgina, all her good +qualities in full play. "Of course it would not be right for strangers +to be there. Poor Mrs. Darling! But is it true, Frederick? _Insane!_" + +"I fear so." + +"Perhaps it is some temporary fever that will pass off?" + +"Well--we must hope for the best. And now--will you regard this as a +confidential communication?" + +"Yes, certainly; if you wish it." + +"I think it is better to do so. She may recover; and in that case it +would be very sad for the report to have been spread abroad. I knew I +might trust you; otherwise I should not have spoken. We have had +secrets together before." + +"Shall you not tell papa?" + +"I shall tell him, because he knows of the matter already. No one +else. Should her malady be confirmed, of course it will become +generally known." + +"Do you know, I thought you had bad news when I saw your face," +resumed Georgina. "You looked so worn and anxious. But you have looked +so for some days past." + +"Have I? I've been tired, I suppose, from want of sleep. I have not +been in bed for some nights. I have been, watching." + +"Watching! Where?" + +"In the corridor at home." + +Georgina looked at him in surprise. "What were you watching for?" + +"Oh--for ghosts." + +"Please be serious. Do tell me what you mean. I don't understand you +in the least." + +"It is so pleasant to share a secret that I think I must tell it you, +Georgina. You remember your nightmare?" + +"My nightmare? Oh yes, when I fancied some one came into my room. +Well?" + +"Well--I thought it just possible, that instead of a nightmare it +might have been reality. That Mrs. Carleton, in her restlessness, had +wandered out of her room. It was not an agreeable thought, so I have +watched every night since, lest there should be a repetition of it." + +Georgina was as quick as lightning at catching an idea. "You were +afraid for me! You watched to take care of me!" + +"Something of that sort. Did you lock your door as I desired?" + +"Yes: all but one night, when I forgot to do it." + +"Just so. Knowing what a forgetful, careless young lady I had to deal +with, I concluded that I must depend upon myself, instead of her. A +pretty thing, if Mrs. Carleton had run away with you!" + +A few bright rays were perceptible in the western horizon, illumining +the twilight of the hitherto dull day. Georgina Beauclerc was gazing +straight out to them, a very conscious look in her face. Suddenly she +turned it to Mr. St. John. + +"Will you tell me--had your words to me last evening, warning me not +to be abroad, anything to do with this?" + +He nodded. "Suspecting Mrs. Carleton's malady, I did not know who +might be safe from her, who not: and I saw her in the grounds then." + +"Last night?" + +"Last night. She was close to you." + +A moment's thought, which was a revelation to Georgina, and she drew +nearer to him with a start. "I see it all, Frederick. I remember what +you said about her jealousy: you have been protecting me." + +"Trying to do it." + +"How shall I thank you? And I have been so impertinent and cross! +Perhaps I owe even my life to you!" + +"I have not done it for nothing, I can tell you, young lady. I have +been thinking of my repayment all through it." + +He put his arm round her before she could get away, and drew her close +to him. His voice became low and tender; his face, bent to hers, was +radiant with persuasive eloquence. + +"I told you last night that I thought I had saved you from a great +danger----" + +"And you repaid yourself," interrupted Georgina, with a dash of her +native sauciness, and a glow on her blushing cheeks. + +"No, I did not. I--don't know whether it's this watching after your +safety, or what else it may be; but I have arrived at the conviction, +that I shall have to take care of you for life. Georgina, we might +have known years ago that it would come to this." + +"Known that! When you only hated me!" + +"If I hated you then--which I did not--I love you now. I cannot part +with you. Georgina, my darling, I shall never part with you. I don't +think you would like to part with me." + +Her heart beat as it had never beaten before in her life; her eyes +were blinded with tears. Joy so great as this had never been +foreshadowed, except in some rare dream. He kissed the tears away. + +"But it cannot be that you love me," she whispered. + +"I love you dearly; although I once told a friend of yours that I +would not marry Georgina Beauclerc though there were not another +English girl extant. He saw into the future, it may be also into my +heart, more clearly than I did." + +"You said that? To a friend of mine! Who was it?" + +"One who lies buried in the cloisters at Westerbury." + +Her eyes went far out again to that light in the west. The words +carried her back again to those past days,--to the handsome boy who +had so loved her. + +"You never cared for him, poor fellow!" observed Mr. St. John. + +"No; I never cared but for one in my life," she softly whispered. + +"I know that. He was the first to tell me of it. Not that I--as I +believe now--needed telling. Georgina, they say marriages are made in +heaven; I think we might have seen, even then, that we were destined +for each other---- What's the matter?" + +Georgina darted away from him as if she had been shot. Her ears were +quicker than his. The dean's carriage was approaching; was close upon +them. + +"I suppose I may speak to him, Georgina?" + +"Perhaps if I said no, you wouldn't listen to me. You always did +contrive to have your own way, and I suppose you will take it still. +But I think you are very unfeeling--very cruel; and I am as bad." + +"I know what you mean: that we should allow--this--to ensue upon the +news I came to tell you. Poor Mrs. Carleton! We shall have time and to +spare, I fear, for all our best sympathies. Oh, child! you don't know +what my anxiety on your score has been! But it has served to show me, +what I was only half convinced of before: my love for you." + +The dean came in. Georgina escaped to her mother and Miss Denison. The +latter spoke crossly to her. "Ah," thought Georgina, "would she dare +to abuse me if she only knew whose wife I am going to be?" and she +actually kissed the astonished Miss Denison, in her great happiness. + +Mr. St. John spoke to the dean. Of Mrs. Carleton first: and the dean +was both shocked and surprised to find the crisis had come on so +quickly. He then said that he and Sir Isaac thought it better that +Georgina should for the moment quit Castle Wafer. + +"Quite right," said the dean. "She ought not to have stayed there so +long. Of course she should not, had I been aware of this. The fact is, +she would not come home; you heard her; she has a great affection for +Castle Wafer." + +"Would you very much mind, sir, if she some time came back to it for +good?" + +"Eh?" said the dean, turning his surprised eyes sharply on Mr. St. +John. "Who wants that?" + +"I do. I have been asking her if she will do so." + +"And what does she say?" + +A smile crossed Mr. St. John's lips. "She said I generally contrived +to have my own way, and she supposed I should have it now." + +"Ah, well; I have thought it might come to that! But I cannot bear to +part with her. Frederick St. John"--and the dean spoke with emotion as +he wrung his hand--"I would rather you took her from me than any other +man in the world." + + +It was a lovely day in the following spring, and Paris was gay and +bright. In a handsome house in one of its best quarters, its +drawing-rooms presenting that blended aspect of magnificence and +lightness which you rarely see out of the French capital, were a group +of three people; two ladies, both brides of a week or two, and a +gentleman. Never did eye gaze on two more charming brides, than Madame +de la Chasse, that house's mistress, and Mrs. Frederick St. John. + +Are you prepared to hear that that mistress was Rose? She sat laughing +gaily, throwing back, as was her wont of old, that mass of golden +curls. Her marriage had taken many by surprise, Frederick St. John for +one; and he was now joking her about it. + +"It was quite impossible to believe it, you know, Rose. I thought you +would not have condescended to marry a Frenchman." + +"I'd rather have married you," freely confessed Rose, and they all +laughed. "But he has changed now; he has become presentable, thanks to +me; and I don't intend to let him lapse again." + +"I am sure you are happy!" said Georgina. "I see it in your face." + +"Well, the truth is, I do like him a little bit," answered Rose, with +a shy sort of blush, which spoke more plainly than her words. "And +then he is so fond and proud of me; and heaps such luxuries upon me. +It all arose through my staying at the Castellas' last autumn; he was +always coming there." + +"You know, Rose"--and Mr. St. John took her hand and spoke in all +seriousness,--"that I wish you both, from my very heart, every +happiness." + +"And I'm sure I wish it to you," she said. "And I think you might have +told me when I used to tease you about Sarah Beauclerc, that I was +wrong in the Christian name. I suspected it last year when I saw you +both together at Castle Wafer." + +"Not then," interrupted Georgina; "you could not have seen it then." + +"I did, though; I'm clever in that line, Mrs. St. John. I used to see +his eyes follow you about, and he would leave me at any moment for +you. How is Sir Isaac?" + +"Quite well," answered Mr. St. John, "and as happy in my marriage as a +child. Our ostensible home, after all, is to be Alnwick; but I dare +say we shall spend with him eight months out of every year at Castle +Wafer." + +"And my ill-fated half-sister, Mrs. Carleton St. John?" asked Rose, a +deep shade of sadness clouding her radiant face. "Is there _no_ hope +of her restoration?" + +"I fear none," he replied. + +"I wonder sometimes whether they are quite kind to her in that private +asylum?" + +"There's no doubt they are. Mr. Pym sees her sometimes; your mamma +often. But that of course you know better than I do." + +"I wanted mamma to take me to see her before I left England for good; +but she would not." + +"And so much the better," said Mr. St. John. "It could not be well for +you, Madame de la Chasse." + +"'Madame de la Chasse!'" she echoed. "Well, it sounds curious to hear +_you_ call me so. Ah! how strange! that he should have married me; and +you--Poor Adeline! Does your wife know about her?" suddenly questioned +Rose, in her careless way. + +"Yes," spoke up Georgina. + +"Old loves go for nothing when we come to be married. We laugh at the +past then, and think what love-sick silly children we were. I have +settled down into the most sober wife living." + +"It looks like it," cried Mr. St. John. + +"I _have_," retorted Rose, "whether it looks like it or not. I shall +be as good and steady a matron as your wife there, who loves you to +her fingers' ends." + +Georgina laughed and blushed as they rose to leave, promising plenty +of visits to the young Baroness during their stay in Paris. + +In going out, they met the Baron. Georgina was surprised to see so +good-looking a man; for Mr. St. John had described to her his +close-cut hair and his curled moustache. That was altered now; the +hair was in light waves; the moustache reduced to propriety: Rose said +she had made him presentable. + +He was very cordial; had apparently forgotten old scores against Mr. +St. John, and pressed the hospitality of his house upon them as long +as they were in Paris. Their frequent presence in it, he said, would +complete the bliss of himself and his wife. + +"Frederick," exclaimed Georgina, thoughtfully, when they had returned +to their hotel, "should you think the Baron ever loved Adeline as he +does Rose? He is evidently very fond of her." + +"Perhaps he did not. His intended marriage with Adeline was a +_contract_; with Rose he had time to fall in love." + +"And--perhaps--_you_ never loved her so very, very deeply!" timidly +rejoined Georgina, raising to him her grey-blue eyes. + +"I must say one thing," he answered, smiling; "that if a certain young +lady of my particular acquaintance is not satisfied with her husband's +love----" + +She did not let him go on; she threw herself into his sheltering arms, +the tears of emotion falling from her eyes. + +"Oh, my husband, my darling; you know, you know! I think you must have +loved me a little all through; even when we used to quarrel at +Westerbury." + +"I think I did, Georgina. Of one fact you may be very sure, that I +would not exchange my wife for any other, living or dead. I hope, I +believe, under Heaven's blessing, that I may so love her to the end." + +"Amen," softly breathed Georgina. + + + + +THE END. + + + +---------------------------------------------------------------- +PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLES. + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of St. Martin's Eve, by Mrs. Henry Wood + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 58582 *** |