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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 58701 ***
+
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+Transcriber's Notes:
+     1. Page scan source: Google Books
+     https://books.google.com/books?id=vq1BAAAAYAAJ
+     (Princeton University)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+EDINA
+A NOVEL
+
+
+BY
+MRS. HENRY WOOD
+
+AUTHOR OF
+"EAST LYNNE," "THE CHANNINGS," "JOHNNY LUDLOW," ETC.
+
+
+
+Fiftieth Thousand
+
+
+
+London
+MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
+NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
+1900
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+PART THE FIRST.
+CHAPTER
+        I. HEARD AT MIDNIGHT.
+       II. ROSALINE BELL.
+      III. ON THE BARE PLAIN.
+       IV. WAITING FOR BELL.
+        V. MISSING.
+       VI. DINING AT THE MOUNT.
+      VII. ROMANCE.
+     VIII. ROSE-COLOURED DREAMS.
+       IX. PLANNING OUT THE FUTURE.
+        X. MAJOR AND MRS. RAYNOR.
+       XI. SCHEMING.
+      XII. THE WEDDING.
+     XIII. UNDER THE STARS.
+      XIV. IN THE CHURCHYARD.
+       XV. LOOKING OUT FOR EDINA.
+      XVI. COMMOTION.
+     XVII. BROUGHT TO THE SURFACE.
+    XVIII. A SUBTLE ENEMY.
+
+
+PART THE SECOND.
+
+
+        I. AT EAGLES' NEST.
+       II. APPREHENSIONS.
+      III. A TIGER.
+       IV. AT JETTY'S.
+        V. SIR PHILIP'S MISSION.
+       VI. STARTLING NEWS.
+      VII. FRANK RAYNOR FOLLOWED.
+     VIII. THE NEW HOME.
+       IX. MR. MAX BROWN.
+        X. A NIGHT ALARM.
+
+
+PART THE THIRD.
+
+
+        I. LAUREL COTTAGE.
+       II. JEALOUSY.
+      III. CROPPING UP AGAIN.
+       IV. HUMILIATION.
+        V. THE MISSING DESK.
+       VI. UNDER THE CHURCH WALLS.
+      VII. MEETING AGAIN.
+     VIII. HARD LINES.
+       IX. TEARS.
+        X. MADEMOISELLE'S LETTER.
+       XI. SUNSHINE.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+EDINA.
+
+
+
+
+
+PART THE FIRST.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+HEARD AT MIDNIGHT.
+
+
+The village, in which the first scenes of this history are laid, was
+called Trennach; and the land about it was bleak and bare and dreary
+enough, though situated in the grand old county of Cornwall. For mines
+lay around, with all the signs and features of miners' work about
+them; yawning pit mouths, leading down to rich beds of minerals--some
+of the mines in all the bustle of full operation, some worked out and
+abandoned. Again, in the neighbourhood of these, might be seen miners'
+huts and other dwelling-places, and the counting-houses attached to
+the shafts. The little village of Trennach skirted this tract of
+labour; for, while the mining district extended for some miles on one
+side the hamlet; on the other side, half-an-hour's quiet walking
+brought you to a different country altogether--to spreading trees and
+rich pasture land and luxuriant vegetation.
+
+The village street chiefly consisted of shops. Very humble shops, most
+of them; but the miners and the other inhabitants, out of reach of
+better, found them sufficiently good for their purposes. Most of the
+shops dealt in mixed articles, and might be called general shops. The
+linendraper added brushes and brooms to his cottons and stuffs; the
+grocer sold saucepans and gridirons; the baker did a thriving trade in
+home-made pickles. On a dark night, the most cheerful-looking shop was
+the druggist's: the coloured globes displayed in its windows sending
+forth their reflections into the thoroughfare. This shop had also
+added another branch to its legitimate trade--that of general
+literature: for the one solitary doctor of the place dispensed his own
+medicines, and the sale of drugs was not great. The shop boasted a
+small circulating library; the miners and the miners' wives, like
+their betters, being fond of sensational fiction. The books consisted
+entirely of cheap volumes, issued at a shilling or two shillings
+each; some indeed at sixpence. The proprietor of this mart, Edmund
+Float, chemist and druggist, was almost a confirmed invalid, and would
+often be laid up for a week at a time. The doctor told him that if he
+would devote less of his time to that noted hostelry, the Golden
+Shaft, he might escape these attacks of illness. At these times the
+business of the shop, both as to drugs and books, was transacted by a
+young native of Falmouth; one Blase Pellet, who had served his
+apprenticeship in it and remained on as assistant.
+
+The doctor's name was Raynor. He wrote himself Hugh Raynor, M.D.,
+Member of the Royal College of Physicians. That he, a man of fair
+ability in his profession and a gentleman as well, should be contented
+to live in this obscure place, in all the drudgery of a general
+practitioner and apothecary, may seem a matter of surprise--but his
+history shall be given further on. His house stood in the middle of
+the village, somewhat back from the street: a low, square, detached
+building, a bow window on each side its entrance, and three windows
+above. On the door, which always stood open in the daytime, was a
+brass plate, bearing the name, "Dr. Raynor." The bow window to the
+left was screened by a brown wire blind, displaying the word "Surgery"
+in large white letters. Above the blind Dr. Raynor's white head, or
+the younger head of his handsome nephew, might occasionally be seen by
+the passers-by, or by Mr. Blase Pellet over the way. For the doctor's
+house and the druggist's shop faced each other; and Mr. Pellet, being
+of an inquisitive disposition, seemed never tired of peeping and
+peering into his neighbours' doings generally, and especially into any
+that might take place at Dr. Raynor's. At either end of this rather
+straggling street were seated respectively the parish church and the
+Wesleyan meeting-house. The latter was the better attended; for most
+of the miners followed their fathers' faith--that of the Wesleyan
+Methodists.
+
+It was Monday morning, and a cold clear day in March. The wind came
+sweeping down the wide street; the dust whirled in the air; overhead,
+the sun was shining brightly. Dr. Raynor stood near the fire in his
+surgery, looking over his day-book, in which a summary of the cases
+under treatment was entered. He was dressed in black. A tall,
+grand-looking, elderly man, very quiet in manner, with a pale, placid
+face, and carefully-trimmed thin white whiskers. It was eight o'clock,
+and he had just entered the surgery: his nephew had already been in it
+half-an-hour. Never a more active man in his work than Dr. Raynor, but
+latterly his energy had strangely failed him.
+
+"Has any message come in this morning from Pollock's wife, Frank?" he
+asked.
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Then I suppose she's better," remarked the doctor, closing the book
+as he spoke, and moving towards the window.
+
+A square table stood at the end of the room, facing the window. Behind
+it was Frank Raynor, making up mixtures, the ingredients for which he
+took from some of the various bottles ranged upon the shelves behind
+him. He was a slender, gentlemanly young fellow of four-and-twenty,
+rather above the middle height, and wore this morning a suit of grey
+clothes. The thought that passed through a stranger's minds on first
+seeing Frank Raynor was, How good-looking he is! It was not, however,
+so much in physical beauty that the good looks consisted, as in the
+bright expression of his well-featured face, and the sunny, laughing
+blue eyes. The face wanted one thing--firmness. In the delicate mouth,
+very sweet and pleasant in form though it was, might be traced his
+want of stability. He could not say No to a petition, let it be what
+it might: he was swayed as easily as the wind. Most lovable was Frank
+Raynor; but he would be almost sure to be his own enemy as he went
+through life. You could not help liking him; every one did that--with
+the exception of Mr. Blase Pellet across the road. Frank's hair was
+golden brown, curling slightly, and worn rather long. His face, like
+his uncle's, was close-shaved, excepting that he too wore whiskers,
+which were of the same colour as the hair.
+
+"What a number of men are standing about!" exclaimed Dr. Raynor,
+looking over the blind. "More even than usual on a Monday morning. One
+might think they were not at work."
+
+"They are not at work," replied Frank. "As I hear.
+
+"No! what's that for?"
+
+Frank's lips parted with a smile. An amused look sat in his blue eyes
+as he answered.
+
+"Through some superstition, I fancy, Uncle Hugh. They say the Seven
+Whistlers were heard in the night."
+
+Dr. Raynor turned quickly towards his nephew. "The Seven Whistlers;"
+he repeated. "Why, who says that?"
+
+"Ross told me. He came in for some laudanum for his neuralgia. As
+there is to be no work done to-day, the overseer thought he might as
+well lie up and doctor himself. A rare temper he is in."
+
+"Can't he get the men to work?"
+
+"Not one of them. Threats and promises alike fail. There's safe to be
+an accident if they go down to-day, say the men; and they won't risk
+it. Bell had better not come in Ross's way whilst his present temper
+lasts," added Frank, as he began to screw a cork into a bottle. "I
+think Ross would knock him down."
+
+"Why Bell in particular?"
+
+"Because it is Bell who professes to have heard the Whistlers."
+
+"And none of the others?" cried the doctor.
+
+"I fancy not. Uncle Hugh, what _is_ the superstition?" added Frank.
+"What does it mean? I don't understand: and Ross, when I asked him, he
+turned away instead of answering me. Is it something especially
+ridiculous?"
+
+Dr. Raynor briefly replied. This superstition of the Seven Whistlers
+arose from certain sounds in the air. They were supposed by the
+miners, when heard--which was very rarely, indeed, in this
+neighbourhood--to foretell ill luck. Accident, death, all sorts of
+calamities, in fact, might be expected, according to the popular
+superstition, by those who had the misfortune to hear the sounds.
+
+Frank Raynor listened to the doctor's short explanation, a glow of
+amusement on his face. It sounded to him like a bit of absurd fun.
+
+"You don't believe in such nonsense, surely, Uncle Hugh!"
+
+Dr. Raynor had returned to the fire, and was gazing into it; some
+speculation, or perhaps recollection, or it might be doubt, in his
+grey eyes.
+
+"All my experience in regard to the Seven Whistlers is this,
+Frank--and you may make the most of it. Many years ago, when I was
+staying amongst the collieries in North Warwickshire, there arose a
+commotion one morning. The men did not want to go down the pits that
+day, giving as a reason that the Seven Whistlers had passed over the
+place during the night, and had been heard by many of them. I
+naturally inquired what the Seven Whistlers meant, never having heard
+of them, and received in reply the explanation I have now given you.
+But workmen were not so independent in those days, Frank, as they are
+in these; and the men were forced to go down the pits as usual."
+
+"And what came of it?" asked Frank.
+
+"Of the going down? This. An accident took place in the pit that same
+morning--through fire-damp, I think; and many of them never came up
+again alive."
+
+"How dreadful! But that could not have been the fault of the Seven
+Whistlers?" debated Frank.
+
+"My second and only other experience was at Trennach," continued Dr.
+Raynor, passing over Frank's comment. "About six years ago, some of
+the miners professed to have heard these sounds. That same day, as
+they were descending one of the shafts after dinner, an accident
+occurred to the machinery----"
+
+"And did damage," interrupted Frank, with increasing interest.
+
+"Yes. Three of the men fell to the bottom of the mine, and were
+killed; and several others were injured more or less badly. I attended
+them. You ask me if I place faith in the superstition, Frank. No: I do
+not. I am sufficiently enlightened not to do so. But the experiences
+that I have told you of are facts. I look upon them as mere
+coincidences."
+
+A pause. Frank was going on with his work.
+
+"Are the sounds all fancy, Uncle Hugh?"
+
+"Oh no. The sounds are real enough."
+
+"What do they proceed from? What causes them?"
+
+"It is said that they proceed from certain night-birds," replied Dr.
+Raynor. "Flocks of birds, in their nocturnal passage across the
+country, making plaintive sounds; and when these sounds are heard,
+they are superstitiously supposed to predict evil to those who hear
+them. Ignorant men are always credulous. That is all I know about it,
+Frank."
+
+"Did you ever hear the sounds yourself, Uncle Hugh?"
+
+"Never. This is only the third occasion that I have been in any place
+at the time they have been heard--or said to have been heard--and I
+have not myself been one of the hearers. There's Bell!" added Dr.
+Raynor, seeing a man leave the chemist's and cross the street in the
+direction of his house. "He seems to be coming here."
+
+"And Float the miner's following him," observed Frank.
+
+Two men entered through the doctor's open front-door, and thence to
+the surgery. The one was a little, middle-aged man, who carried a
+stout stick and walked somewhat lame. His countenance, not very
+pleasing at the best of times, just now wore a grey tinge that
+was rather remarkable. This was Josiah Bell. The one who followed
+him in was a tall, burly man, with a pleasant face, as fresh as a
+farm-labourer's; his voice was soft, and his manner meek and retiring.
+The little man's voice, on the contrary, was loud and self-asserting.
+Bell was given to quarrel with every one who would quarrel with him;
+scarcely a day passed but he, to use his own words, "had it out" with
+some one. Andrew Float had never quarrelled in his life; not even with
+his quarrelsome friend Bell; but was one of the most peaceable and
+easy-natured of men. Though only a common miner, he was brother to the
+chemist, and also brother to John Float, landlord of the Golden Shaft.
+The three brothers were usually distinguished in the place as Float
+the druggist, Float the miner, and Float the publican.
+
+"I've brought Float over to ask you just to look at this arm of his,
+doctor, if you'll be so good," began Bell. "It strikes me his brother
+is not doing what's right by it."
+
+There was a refinement in the man's accent, a readiness of speech, an
+independence of tone, not at all in keeping with what might be
+expected from one of a gang of miners. The fact was, Josiah Bell had
+originally held a far better position in life. He had begun that life
+as a clerk in the office of some large colliery works in
+Staffordshire; but, partly owing to unsteady habits, partly to an
+accident which had for many months laid him low and lamed him for
+life, he had sunk down in the world to what he now was--a workman in a
+Cornish mine.
+
+"Won't the burn heal?" observed Dr. Raynor. "Let me see it, Float."
+
+"If you'd please to be so kind, sir," replied the big man, with
+deprecation, as he took off his coat and prepared to display his arm.
+It had been badly burned some time ago; and it seemed to get worse
+instead of better, in spite of the doctoring of his brother the
+chemist, and of Mr. Blase Pellet.
+
+"I have asked you more than once to let me look to your arm, you know,
+Float," remarked Mr. Frank Raynor.
+
+"But I didn't like to trouble you, Master Raynor. I thought Ned and
+his salves could do for it, sir."
+
+"And so you men are not at work to-day, Bell!" began the doctor, as he
+examined the arm. "What's this absurd story I hear about the Seven
+Whistlers?"
+
+Bell's aspect changed at the question. The pallor on his face seemed
+to become greyer. It was a greyness that attracted Dr. Raynor's
+attention: he had never seen it in the man's face before.
+
+"They passed over Trennach at midnight," said Bell, in low tones, from
+which all independence had gone out. "I heard them myself."
+
+"And who else heard them?"
+
+"I don't know. Nobody--that I can as yet find out. The men were all
+indoors, they say, long before midnight. The Golden Shaft shuts at ten
+on a Sunday night."
+
+"You stayed out later?"
+
+"I came on to Float the druggist's when the public-house closed, and
+smoked a pipe with him and Pellet, and sat there, talking. It was in
+going home that I heard the Whistlers."
+
+"You may have been mistaken, in thinking you heard them."
+
+"No," dissented Bell. "It was in the middle of the Bare Plain. I was
+stepping along quietly----"
+
+"And soberly?" interposed Frank, with a twinkling eye, and a tone that
+might be taken either for jest or earnest.
+
+"And soberly," asserted Bell, resentfully. "As sober as you are now,
+Mr. Frank Raynor. I was stepping along quietly, I say, when the church
+clock began to strike. I stood to count it, not believing it could be
+twelve--not thinking I had stayed all that time at the druggist's. It
+was twelve, however, and I was still standing after the last stroke
+had died away, wondering how the time could have passed, when those
+other sounds broke out high in the air above me. Seven of them: I
+counted them as I had counted the clock. The saddest sound of a wail
+I've ever heard--save once before. It seemed to freeze me up."
+
+"Did you hear more?" asked Dr. Raynor.
+
+"No. And the last two sounds of the seven were so faint, I should not
+have heard them if I had not been listening. The cries had broken out
+right above where I was standing: they seemed to die away gradually in
+the distance."
+
+"I say that you may have been mistaken, Bell," persisted Dr. Raynor.
+"The sounds you heard may not have been the Seven Whistlers at all."
+
+Bell shook his head, His manner and voice this morning were more
+subdued than usual. "I can't be mistaken in _them_. No man can be who
+has once heard them, Dr. Raynor."
+
+"Is it this that has turned your face so grey?" questioned Frank,
+alluding to the pallor noticed by his uncle; but which the elder and
+experienced man had refrained from remarking upon.
+
+"I didn't know it was grey," rejoined Bell, his resentful tones
+cropping up again.
+
+"It's as grey as this powder," persisted Frank, holding forth a
+delectable compound he was preparing for some unfortunate patient.
+
+"And so, on the strength of this night adventure of yours, Bell, all
+you men are making holiday to-day!" resumed the doctor.
+
+But Bell, who did not seem to approve of Frank's remarks on his
+complexion, possibly taking them as ridicule--though he might have
+known Frank Raynor better--stood in dudgeon, and vouchsafed no reply.
+Andrew Float took up the retort in his humble, hesitating fashion.
+
+"There ain't one of us, Dr. Raynor, that would venture down to-day
+after this. When Bell come up to the pit this morning, where us men
+was collecting to go down, and said the Seven Whistlers had passed
+over last night at midnight, it took us all aback. Not one of us would
+hazard it after that. Ross, he stormed and raged, but he couldn't
+force us down, sir."
+
+"And the Golden Shaft will have the benefit of you instead!" said the
+doctor.
+
+"Our lives are dear to us all, sir," was the deprecating reply of
+Float, not attempting to answer the remark. "And I thank ye kindly,
+sir, for it feels more comfortable like already. They burns be nasty
+things."
+
+"They are apt to be so when not properly attended to. Your brother
+should not have allowed it to get into this state."
+
+"Well, you see, Dr. Raynor, some days he's been bad abed, and I didn't
+trouble him with it then; and young Pellet don't seem to know much
+about they bad places."
+
+"You should have come to me. Bell, how is your wife to-day?"
+
+"Pretty much as usual," said surly Bell. "If she's worse, it's through
+the Seven Whistlers. She don't like to hear tell of them."
+
+"Why did you tell her?"
+
+Josiah Bell lifted his cold light eyes in wonder. "Could I keep such a
+thing as that to myself, Dr. Raynor? It comes as a warning, and must
+be guarded against. That is, as far as we can guard against it."
+
+"Has the sickness returned?"
+
+"For the matter of that, she always feels sick. I should just give her
+some good strong doses of mustard-and-water to make her so in earnest,
+were I you, doctor, and then perhaps the feeling would go off."
+
+"Ah," remarked the doctor, a faint smile parting his lips, "we are all
+apt to think we know other people's business best, Bell. Float," added
+he, as the two men were about to leave, "don't you go in for a bout of
+drinking to-day; it would do your arm no good."
+
+"Thank ye, sir; I'll take care to be mod'rate," replied Float, backing
+out.
+
+"The Golden Shaft will have a good deal of his company to-day, in
+spite of your warning, sir; and of Bell's too," observed Frank, as the
+surgery-door closed on the men. "How grey and queer Bell's face looks!
+Did you notice it, Uncle Hugh?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"He looks just like a man who has had a shock. The Seven Whistlers
+gave it him, I suppose. I could not have believed Bell was so silly."
+
+"I hope it is only the shock that has done it," said the doctor.
+
+"Done what, Uncle Hugh?"
+
+"Turned his face that peculiar colour." And Frank looked up to his
+uncle as if scarcely understanding him. But Dr. Raynor said no more.
+
+At that moment the door again opened, and a young lady glanced in.
+Seeing no stranger present, she came forward.
+
+"Papa! do you know how late it is getting? Breakfast has been waiting
+ever so long."
+
+The voice was very sweet and gentle; a patient voice, that somehow
+gave one the idea that its owner had known sorrow. She was the
+doctor's only child: and to call her a _young_ lady may be regarded as
+a figure of speech, for she was past thirty. A calm, sensible, gentle
+girl she had ever been, of great practical sense. Her pale face was
+rather plain than handsome: but it was a face pleasant to look upon,
+with its expression of sincere earnestness, and its steadfast,
+truthful dark eyes. Her dark brown hair, smooth and bright, was simply
+braided in front and plaited behind on the well-shaped head. She was
+of middle height, light and graceful; and she wore this morning a
+violet merino dress, with embroidered cuffs and collar of her own
+work. Such was Edina Raynor.
+
+"You may pour out the coffee, my dear," said her father. "We are
+coming now."
+
+Edina disappeared, and the doctor followed her. Frank stayed a minute
+or two longer to make an end of his physic. He then adjusted his
+coat-cuffs, which had been turned up, pulled his wristbands down, and
+also passed out of the surgery. The sun was shining into the passage
+through the open entrance-door; and Frank, as if he would sun himself
+for an instant, or else wishing for a wider view of the street, and of
+the miners loitering about it, stepped outside. The men had collected
+chiefly in groups, and were talking idly, in slouching attitudes,
+hands in pockets; some were smoking. A little to the left, as Frank
+stood, on the other side of the way, was that much-frequented
+hostelry, the Golden Shaft: it was evidently the point of attraction
+to-day.
+
+Mr. Blase Pellet chanced to be standing at his shop-door, rubbing his
+hands on his white apron. He was an awkward-looking, under-sized,
+unfortunately-plain man, with very red-brown eyes, and rough reddish
+hair that stood up in bristles. When he caught sight of Frank, he
+backed into the shop, went behind the counter, and peeped out at him
+between two of the glass globes.
+
+"I wonder what he's come out to look at now?" debated Mr. Blase with
+himself. "_She_ can't be in the street! What a proud wretch he looks
+this morning!--with his fine curls, and that ring upon his finger!"
+
+"Twenty of them, at least, ready to go in!" mentally spoke Frank, his
+eyes fixed on the miners standing about the Golden Shaft. "And some of
+them will never come out all day."
+
+Frank went in to breakfast. The meal was laid in a small parlour,
+behind the best sitting-room, which was on the side of the passage
+opposite to the surgery, and faced the street. This back-room looked
+down on a square yard, and the bare open country beyond: to the mines
+and to the miners' dwelling-places. They lay to the right, as you
+looked out. To the left stretched a barren tract of land, called the
+Bare Plain--perhaps from its dreary aspect--which we shall come to
+by-and-by.
+
+Edina sat at the breakfast-table, her back to the window; Dr. Raynor
+sat opposite to her. Frank took his usual place between them, facing
+the cheerful fire.
+
+"If your coffee's cold, Frank, it is your own fault," said Edina,
+handing his cup to him. "I poured it out as soon as papa came in."
+
+"All right, Edina: it is sure to be warm enough for me," was the
+answer, as he took it and thanked her. He was the least selfish, the
+least self-indulgent mortal in the world; the most easily satisfied.
+
+"What a pity it is about the men:" exclaimed Edina to Frank: for this
+report of the Seven Whistlers had become generally known, and the
+doctor's maid-servant had imparted the news to Miss Raynor. "They will
+make it an excuse for two or three days' drinking."
+
+"As a matter of course," replied Frank.
+
+"It seems altogether so ridiculous. I have been saying to papa that I
+thought Josiah Bell had better sense. He may have taken more than was
+good for him last night; and fancied he heard the sounds."
+
+"Oh, I think he heard them," said the doctor. "Bell rarely drinks
+enough to cloud his faculties, And he is certainly not fanciful."
+
+"But how, Uncle Hugh," put in Frank, "you cannot seriously think that
+there's anything in it!"
+
+"Anything in what?"
+
+"In this superstition. Of course one can readily understand that a
+flock of birds may fly over a place by night, as well as by day; and
+that they may give out sounds and cries on the way. But that these
+cries should forebode evil to those who may hear them, is not to be
+credited for a moment."
+
+Dr. Raynor nodded. He was languidly eating an egg. For some time past,
+appetite had failed him.
+
+"I say, Uncle Hugh, that you cannot believe in such nonsense. You
+admitted that the incidents you gave just now were mere coincidences."
+
+"Frank," returned the doctor, in his quiet tone, that latterly had
+seemed to tell of pain, "I have already said so. But when you shall
+have lived to my age, experience will have taught you that there are
+some things in this world that cannot be fathomed or explained. We
+must be content to leave them. I told you that I did not myself place
+faith in this popular belief of the miners: but I related to you at
+the same time my own experiences in regard to it. I don't judge: but I
+cannot explain."
+
+Frank turned a laughing look on his cousin.
+
+"Suppose we go out on the Bare Plain to-night and listen for the Seven
+Whistlers ourselves; you and I, Edina?"
+
+"A watched pot never boils," said Edina, quaintly, quoting a homely
+proverb. "The Whistlers would be sure not to come, Frank, if we
+listened for them."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+ROSALINE BELL.
+
+
+Frank Raynor had been a qualified medical man for some few years; he
+was skilful, kind, attentive, and possessed in an eminent degree that
+cheering manner which is so valuable in a general practitioner.
+Consequently he was much liked by the doctor's patients, especially by
+those of the better class, living at a distance; so that Dr. Raynor
+had no scruple in frequently making Frank his substitute in the daily
+visits. Frank alone suspected--and it was only a half-suspicion as
+yet--that his uncle was beginning to feel himself unequal to the
+exertion of paying them.
+
+It was getting towards midday, and Frank had seen all the sick near
+home at present on their hands, when he started on his walk to see one
+or two living further away. But he called in at home first of all, to
+give Dr. Raynor a report of his visits, and to change his grey coat
+for a black one. Every inch a gentleman looked Frank, as he left the
+house again, turned to the right, and went down the street with long
+strides. He was followed by the envious eyes of Mr. Blase Pellet: who,
+in the very midst of weighing out some pounded ginger for a customer,
+darted round the counter to watch him.
+
+"He is off _there_, for a guinea!" growled Mr. Pellet, as he lost
+sight of Frank and turned back to his ginger. "What possesses Mother
+Bell, I wonder, to go and fancy herself ill and in want of a doctor!"
+
+The houses and the church, which stood at that end of Trennach, were
+soon left behind; and Frank Raynor was on the wide tract of land which
+was called the Bare Plain. The first break he came to in its bleak
+monotony was a worked-out mine on the left. This old pit was
+encompassed about by mounds of earth of different heights, where
+children would play at hide-and-seek during the daylight; but not one
+of them ever approached the mouth of the shaft. Not only was it
+dangerous, from being unprotected; and children, as a rule are given
+to running into danger instead of avoiding it; but the place had an
+evil reputation. Some short time ago, a miner had committed suicide
+there: one Daniel Sandon: had deliberately jumped in and destroyed
+himself. Since then, the miners and their families, who were for the
+most part very superstitious and ignorant, held a belief that the
+man's ghost haunted the pit; that, on a still night, any one listening
+down the shaft, might  hear his sighs and groans. This caused it to be
+shunned: scarcely a miner would venture close to it alone after dark.
+There was nothing to take them near it, for it lay some little
+distance away from the broad path that led through the centre of the
+Plain. The depth of the pit had given rise to its appellation, "The
+Bottomless Shaft:" and poor Daniel Sandon must have died before he
+reached the end. For any one falling into it there could be no hope:
+escape from death was impossible.
+
+Frank Raynor passed it without so much as a thought. Keeping on his
+way, he came by-and-by to a cluster of miners' dwellings, called Bleak
+Row, lying on the Plain, away to the right. Not many of them: the
+miners for the most part lived on the other side the village, near the
+mines. Out of one of the best of these small houses, there chanced to
+come a girl, just as he was approaching it; and they met face to face.
+It was Rosaline Bell.
+
+Never a more beautiful girl in the world than she. Two-and-twenty
+years of age now, rather tall, with a light and graceful form, as easy
+in her movements, as refined in her actions as though she had been
+born a gentlewoman, with a sweet, low voice and a face of delicate
+loveliness. Her features were of almost a perfect Grecian type; her
+complexion was fresh as a summer rose, and her deep violet eyes
+sparkled beneath their long dark lashes. Eyes that, in spite of their
+brightness, had an expression of settled sadness in them: and that sad
+expression of the eye is said, you know, only to exist where its owner
+is destined to sorrow. Poor Rosaline! Sorrow was on its way to her
+quickly, even now. Her dress was of some dark stuff, neatly made and
+worn; her bonnet was of white straw; and the pink bow at her throat
+rivalled in colour the rose of her cheek.
+
+Far deeper in hue did those cheeks become as she recognized Frank
+Raynor. With a hasty movement, as if all too conscious of her blushes
+and what they might imply, she raised her hand to cover them, making
+pretence gently to put back her dark and beautiful hair. Nature had
+indeed been prodigal in her gifts to Rosaline Bell. Rosaline had been
+brought up well; had received a fairly good education, and profited by
+it.
+
+"How do you do, Rose!" cried Frank, in his gay voice, stopping before
+her. "Where are you going?"
+
+She let her hand fall. The rich bloom on her face, the shy, answering
+glance of her lustrous eyes, were charming to behold. Frank Raynor
+admired beauty wherever he saw it, and he especially admired that of
+Rosaline.
+
+"I am going in to find my father; to induce him to come back with me,"
+she said. "My mother is anxious about him; and anxiety is not good for
+her, you know, Mr. Frank."
+
+"Anxiety is very bad for her," returned Frank. "Is she worse to-day?"
+
+"Not worse, sir; only worried. Father heard the Seven Whistlers last
+night; and I think that is rather disturbing her."
+
+Frank Raynor broke into a laugh. "It amuses me beyond everything,
+Rose--those Whistlers. I never heard of them in all my life until this
+morning."
+
+Rosaline smiled in answer--a sad smile. "My father firmly believes in
+them," she said; "and mother is anxious because he is. I must go on
+now, sir, or I shall not get back by dinnertime."
+
+Taking one of her hands, he waved it towards the village, as if he
+would speed her onwards, said his gay good-bye, and lifted the latch
+of the door. It opened to the kitchen: a clean and, it might almost be
+said, rather tasty apartment, with the red-tiled floor on which the
+fire threw its glow, and a strip of carpet by way of hearthrug. A
+mahogany dresser was fixed to the wall on one side, plates and dishes
+of the old willow pattern were ranged on its shelves; an eight-day
+clock in its mahogany case ticked beside the fireplace, which faced
+the door. The window was gay with flowers. Hyacinths in their blue
+glasses stood on the frame half-way up: beneath were red pots
+containing other plants. It was easy to be seen that this was not the
+abode of a common miner.
+
+Seated in an arm-chair near the round table, which was covered with a
+red cloth, her back to the window, was Mrs. Bell, who had latterly
+become an invalid. She was rubbing some dried mint into powder. By
+this, and the savoury smell, Frank Raynor guessed they were to have
+pea-soup for dinner. But all signs of dinner to be seen were three
+plates warming on the fender, and an iron pot steaming by the side of
+the fire.
+
+"And now, mother, how are you to-day?" asked Frank, in his
+warm-hearted and genuine tones of sympathy, that so won his patients'
+regard.
+
+He drew a chair towards her and sat down. The word "mother" came from
+him naturally. Two years ago, just after Frank came to Trennach, he
+was taken ill with a fever; and Mrs. Bell helped Edina to nurse him
+through it. He took a great liking to the quaint, well-meaning, and
+rather superior woman, who was so deft with her fingers, and so ready
+with her tongue. He would often then, partly in jest, call her
+"mother;" he called her so still.
+
+Mrs. Bell was seven-and-forty now, and very stout; her short grey
+curls lay flat under her mob-cap; her still bright complexion must
+once have been as delicately beautiful as her daughter's. She put the
+basin of mint on the table, and smoothed down her clean white apron.
+
+"I'm no great things to-day, Master Frank. Sometimes now, sir, I get
+to think that I never shall be again."
+
+"Just as I thought in that fever of mine," said Frank, purposely
+making light of her words. "Why, my good woman, by this day
+twelvemonth you'll be as strong and well as I am. Only take heart and
+have patience. Yours is a case, you know, that cannot be dealt with in
+a day: it requires time."
+
+Into the further conversation we need not enter. It related to her
+ailments. Not a word was said by either about that disturbing element,
+the Seven Whistlers: and Frank went out again, wishing her a good
+appetite for her dinner.
+
+Putting his best foot foremost, he sped along, fleet as the wind.
+The Bare Plain gave place to pasture land, trees, and flowers. A
+quarter-of-an-hour brought him to The Mount--a moderately-sized
+mansion, standing in its own grounds, the residence of the St. Clares.
+By the sudden death of the late owner, who had not reached the
+meridian of life, it had fallen unexpectedly to a distant cousin; a
+young lieutenant serving with his regiment in India. In his absence,
+his mother had given up her house at Bath, and taken possession of it;
+she and her two daughters. They had come quite strangers to the place
+about two months ago. Mrs. St. Clare--it should be mentioned that they
+chose to give their name its full pronunciation, Saint Clare--had four
+children. The eldest, Charlotte, was with her husband, Captain
+Townley, in India; Lydia was second; the lieutenant and present owner
+of The Mount came next; and lastly Margaret, who was several years
+younger than the rest, and indulged accordingly. Mrs. St. Clare was
+extremely fond of society; and considered that at The Mount she was
+simply buried alive.
+
+The great entrance-gates were on the opposite side; Frank Raynor never
+went round to them, unless he was on horseback: when on foot, he
+entered, as now, by the small postern-gate that was almost hidden by
+clustering shrubs. A short walk through the narrow pathway between
+these shrubs, and he was met by Margaret St. Clare: or, as they
+generally called her at home, Daisy. It frequently happened that she
+did meet him: and, in truth, the meetings were becoming rather
+precious to both, most especially so to her. During these two months'
+residence of the St. Clares at The Mount, Mr. Raynor and Margaret had
+seen a good deal of each other. Lydia was an invalid--or fancied
+herself one--and the Raynors had been in attendance from the first,
+paying visits to The Mount almost every other day. The doctor himself
+now and then, but it was generally Frank who went.
+
+And Mrs. St. Clare was quite contented that it should be Frank. In
+this dead-alive spot, Frank Raynor, with his good looks, his sunny
+presence, his attractive manners, seemed like a godsend to her. She
+chanced to know that he was a gentleman by birth, having met members
+of his family before: Major Raynor; and, once, old Mrs. Atkinson, of
+Eagles' Nest. She did not know much about them, and in her proud heart
+secretly looked down upon Frank: as she would have looked upon any
+other general practitioner. But she liked Frank himself, and she very
+much liked his society, and often asked him to dinner, en famille. The
+few visiting people who lived within reach did not form a large party;
+but Mrs. St. Clare brought them together occasionally, and made the
+best of them.
+
+Margaret St. Clare would be nineteen to-morrow. A slight-made, fair,
+pretty girl, putting one somehow in mind of a fairy. Her small feet
+scarcely seemed to touch the ground as she walked, her small arms and
+hands, her delicate throat and neck, were all perfectly formed. The
+face was fair and piquante, quiet and rather grave when in repose. Her
+eyes were of that remarkable shade that some people call light hazel
+and others amber; and in truth they occasionally looked as clear and
+bright as amber.
+
+She was fond of dress. Mrs. St. Clare's daughters were all fond of it.
+Margaret's gown this morning, of fine, light blue texture, fell in
+soft folds around her, some narrow white lace at the throat. A thin
+gold chain holding a locket was round her neck. Her hat, its blue
+ribbons streaming, hung on her arm; her auburn hair was somewhat
+ruffled by the breeze. As she came forward to meet Frank, her face was
+lighted up with smiles of pleasure; its blushes were almost as deep as
+those that had lighted up Rosaline Bell's not half-an-hour ago. Frank
+took both her hands in silence. His heart was beating at the sight of
+her: and silence in these brief moments is the finest eloquence.
+Rapidly indeed was he arriving at that blissful state, described by
+Lord Byron in a word or two: "For him there was but one beloved face
+on earth." Ay, and arriving also at its consciousness. Even now it was
+"shining on him."
+
+She was the first to break the silence. "You are late, Mr. Raynor.
+Lydia has been all impatience."
+
+"I am a little late, Miss Margaret. There is always a good deal to do
+on a Monday morning."
+
+Lydia St. Clare might be impatient, but neither of them seemed anxious
+to hurry in to her. The windows of the house could not be seen from
+here; evergreens grew high and thick between them, a very wilderness.
+In fact, the grounds generally were little better than a wilderness;
+the late owner was an absentee, and the place had been neglected. But
+it seemed beautiful as Eden to these two, strolling along side by
+side, and lingering on this bright day. The blue sky was almost
+cloudless; the sun gilded the budding trees; the birds sang as they
+built their nests: early flowers were coming up; all things spoke of
+the sweet spring-time. The sweet spring-time that is renewed year by
+year in nature when bleak winter dies; but which comes to the heart
+but once. It was reigning in the hearts of those two happy strollers;
+and it was in its very earliest dawn, when it is freshest and
+sweetest.
+
+"See," said Margaret, stooping; "a beautiful double-daisy,
+pink-fringed! It has only come out to-day. Is it not very early for
+them?"
+
+He took the flower from her unresisting hand as she held it out to
+him. "Will you give it me, Daisy?" he asked, in low, tender tones, his
+eyes meeting hers with a meaning she could not misunderstand.
+
+Her eyes fell beneath his, her fingers trembled as she resigned the
+blossom. He had never called her by that pet name before; only once or
+twice had he said Margaret without the formal prefix.
+
+"It is not worth your having," she stammered. "It is only a daisy."
+
+"Only a daisy! The daisy shall be my favourite flower of all flowers
+from henceforth."
+
+"Indeed, I think you must go in to Lydia."
+
+"I am going in. How the wind blows! You will catch cold without your
+hat."
+
+"I never catch cold, Mr. Raynor. I never have anything the matter with
+me."
+
+He put the daisy into his button-hole, its pink and white head just
+peeping out. Margaret protested hotly.
+
+"Oh, don't; please don't! Mamma will laugh at you, Mr. Raynor. Such a
+stupid little flower!"
+
+"Not stupid to me," he answered. "As to laughing, Mrs. St. Clare may
+laugh at it as much as she pleases; and at me too."
+
+The house was gained at last. Crossing the flagged entrance-hall, they
+entered a very pretty morning-room, its curtains and furniture of pale
+green, bordered with gold. Mrs. St. Clare, a large, fair woman with a
+Roman nose, lay back in an easy-chair, a beautifully-worked screen
+attached to the white marble mantelpiece shading her face from the
+fire. Her gown was black and white: grey and black ribbons composed
+her head-dress. She looked half-dead with ennui. Those large women are
+often incorrigibly idle and listless: she never took up a needle,
+never cared to turn the pages of a book. She was indolent by nature,
+and had grown more so during her life in India before the death of her
+husband, Colonel St. Clare.
+
+But her face lighted up to something like animation when Mr. Raynor
+entered and went forward. Margaret fell into the background. After
+shaking hands with Mrs. St. Clare, he turned to the opposite side of
+the fireplace; where, in another easy-chair, enveloped in a pink
+morning-wrapper, sat the invalid, Lydia.
+
+She was a tall, fair, Roman-nosed young woman too, promising to be in
+time as large as her mother. As idle she was already. Dr. Raynor said
+all she wanted was to exert herself: to walk and take an interest in
+the bustling concerns of daily life as other girls did; she would talk
+no more of nervousness and chest-ache then.
+
+Frank felt her pulse, looked at her tongue, and inquired how she had
+slept; with all the rest of the usual medical routine. Lydia answered
+fretfully, and began complaining of the dulness of her life. It was
+this wretched Cornish mining country that was making her worse: she
+felt sure of it.
+
+"And that silly child, Daisy, declared this morning that it was the
+sweetest place she was ever in!" added Miss St. Clare, in withering
+contempt meant for Daisy. "She said she should like existence, as it
+is just at present, to last for ever!"
+
+Frank Raynor caught a glimpse of a painfully-blushing face in the
+distance, and something like a smile crossed his own. He took a small
+phial, containing a tonic, from his pocket, which he had brought with
+him, and handed it to the invalid.
+
+"You will drive out to-day as usual, of course?" said he.
+
+"Oh, I suppose so," was Miss St. Clare's careless answer. "I don't
+know how we should live through the hours between luncheon and dinner
+without driving. Not that I care for it."
+
+"Talking of dinner," interposed Mrs. St. Clare, "I want you to dine
+with us to-day, Mr. Raynor. Is that a _daisy_ in your coat? What an
+absurd ornament!"
+
+"Yes, it is a daisy," replied Frank, looking down on it. "Thank you
+very much for your invitation. I will come, if I possibly can."
+
+"I cannot allow you any 'If' in the matter."
+
+Frank smiled, and gave a flick to the lavender glove in his hand. He
+liked to be a bit of a dandy when he called at The Mount. As to dining
+there--in truth, he desired nothing better. But he was never quite
+sure what he could do until the hour came.
+
+"A doctor's time is not his own, you know, Mrs. St. Clare."
+
+"You must really give us yours this evening. Our dinners are
+insufferably dull when we sit down alone."
+
+So Frank Raynor gave the promise--and he meant to keep it if possible.
+Ah, that he had not kept it! that he had remained at home! But for
+that unfortunate evening's visit to The Mount, and its consequences, a
+great deal of this history would not have been written.
+
+
+The day went on. Nothing occurred to prevent Frank's fulfilling his
+engagement. The dinner hour at The Mount was seven o'clock. It was
+growing dusk when Frank, a light coat thrown over his evening dress,
+started for his walk to it, but not yet dark enough to conceal
+objects. Frank meant to get over the ground in twenty minutes: and,
+really, his long legs and active frame were capable of any feat in the
+matter of speed. That would give him ten minutes before dinner for a
+chat with Daisy: Mrs. and Miss St. Clare rarely entered the
+drawing-room until the last moment.
+
+"Going off to dine again with that proud lot at The Mount!" enviously
+remarked Mr. Pellet, as he noted Frank's attire from his usual post of
+observation, the threshold of the chemist's door. "It's fine to be
+him!"
+
+"Blase," called his master from within, "where have you put that new
+lot of camomiles?"
+
+Mr. Blase was turning leisurely to respond, when his quick red-brown
+eyes caught sight of something exceedingly disagreeable to them: a
+meeting between Frank and Rosaline Bell. She had come into the village
+apparently from home: and she and Frank were now talking together. Mr.
+Blase felt terribly uncomfortable, almost splitting with wrath and
+envy.
+
+He would have given his ears to hear what they were saying. Frank was
+laughing and chattering in that usually gay manner of his that most
+people found so attractive; she was listening, her pretty lips parted
+with a smile. Even at this distance, and in spite of the fading light,
+Mr. Blase, aided by imagination, could see her shy, half-conscious
+look, and the rose-blush on her cheeks.
+
+And Frank stayed talking and laughing with her as though time and The
+Mount were nothing to him. He thought no harm, he meant no wrong.
+Frank Raynor never _meant_ harm to living mortal. If he had only been
+as cautious as he was well-intentioned!
+
+"Blase!" reiterated old Edmund Float, "I want to find they new
+camomiles, just come in. Don't you hear me? What have you done with
+them?"
+
+Mr. Blase was quite impervious to the words. They had parted now:
+Frank was swinging on again; Rosaline was coming this way. Blase went
+strolling across the street to meet her: but she, as if purposely to
+avoid him, suddenly turned down an opening between the houses, and was
+lost to sight and to Blase Pellet.
+
+"I wonder if she cut down there to avoid me?" thought he, standing
+still in mortification. And there was a very angry look on his face as
+he crossed back again from his fruitless errand.
+
+Daisy was not alone in the drawing-room this evening when Frank
+arrived. Whether his gossip with Rosaline had been too prolonged, or
+whether he had not walked as quickly as usual, it was a minute past
+seven when Frank reached The Mount. All the ladies were assembled:
+Lydia and Daisy in blue silk; Mrs. St. Clare in black satin. Their
+kinsman had been dead six months, and the young ladies had just gone
+out of mourning for him; but Mrs. St. Clare wore hers still.
+
+Daisy looked radiant; at any rate, in Frank's eyes: a very fairy. The
+white lace on her low body and sleeves was scarcely whiter than her
+fair neck and arms: one white rose nestled in her hair.
+
+"Dinner is served, madam."
+
+Frank offered his arm to Mrs. St. Clare: the two young ladies
+followed. It was a large and very handsome dining-room: the table,
+with its white cloth, and its glass and silver glittering under the
+wax-lights, looked almost lost in it. Lydia faced her mother; Frank
+and Daisy were opposite each other. He looked well in evening dress:
+worthy of being a prince, thought Daisy.
+
+The conversation turned chiefly on the festivities of the following
+evening. Mrs. St. Clare was to give a dance in honour of her youngest
+daughter's birthday. It would not be a large party; the neighbourhood
+did not afford that; but some guests from a distance were to sleep in
+the house, and remain for a day or two.
+
+"Will you give me the first dance, Daisy?" Frank seized an opportunity
+of whispering to her, as they were all returning to the drawing-room
+together.
+
+Daisy shook her head, and blushed again. Blushed at the familiar word,
+which he had not presumed to use until that day. But it had never
+sounded so sweet to her from other lips.
+
+"I may not," she answered. "Mamma has decided that my first dance must
+be with some old guy of a Cornish baronet--Sir Paul Trellasis.
+_Going_, do you say! Why? It is not yet nine o'clock.
+
+"I am obliged to leave," he answered. "I promised Dr. Raynor. I have
+to see a country patient for him to-night."
+
+Making his apologies to Mrs. St. Clare for his early departure, and
+stating the reason, Frank left the house. It was a cold and very light
+night: the skies clear, the moon intensely bright. Frank went on with
+his best step. When about half-way across the Bare Plain he met
+Rosaline Bell. The church clock was striking nine.
+
+"Why, Rose! Have you been all this time at Granny Sandon's?"
+
+"Yes; the whole time," she answered. "I stayed to help her into bed.
+Poor granny's rheumatism is very bad: she can scarcely do anything for
+herself."
+
+"Is her rheumatism bad again? I must call and see her. A cold night,
+is it not?"
+
+"I am nearly perished," she said. "I forgot to take a shawl with me."
+
+But Rosaline did not look perished. The meeting had called up warmth
+and colouring to her face, so inexpressibly beautiful in the full,
+bright moonlight. A beauty that might have stirred a heart less
+susceptible than was Frank Raynor's.
+
+"Perished!" he cried. "Let us have a dance together, Rose." And,
+seizing her hands, he waltzed round with her on the path, in very
+lightness of spirit.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Raynor, pray don't! I must be going home, indeed, sir. Mother
+will think I am lost."
+
+"There! Are you warm now? I must go, also."
+
+And before she could resist--if, indeed, she would have
+resisted--Frank Raynor snatched a kiss from the lovely face, released
+her hands, and went swiftly away over the Bare Plain.
+
+There was not very much harm in this: and most assuredly Frank
+intended none. That has been already said. He would often act without
+thought; do mad things upon impulse. He admired Rosaline's beauty, and
+he liked to talk and laugh with her. He might not have chosen to steal
+a kiss from her in the face and eyes of Trennach: but what harm could
+there be in doing it when they were alone in the moonlight?
+
+And if the moon had been the only spectator, no harm would have come
+of it. Unfortunately a pair of human eyes had been looking on as
+well: and the very worst eyes, taken in that sense, that could have
+gazed--Mr. Blase Pellet's. After shutting up the shop that night, ill
+luck had put it into Mr. Pellet's head to take a walk over to Mrs.
+Bell's. He went in the hope of seeing Rosaline: in which he was
+disappointed: and was now on his way home again.
+
+Rosaline stood gazing after Frank Raynor. No one but herself knew how
+dear he was to her; no one ever would know. The momentary kiss seemed
+still to tremble on her lips; her heart beat wildly. Wrapt in this
+ecstatic confusion, it was not to be wondered at that she neither saw
+nor heard the advance of Mr. Pellet; or that Frank, absorbed in her
+and the dance, had previously been equally unobservant.
+
+With a sigh, Rosaline at length turned, and found herself face to face
+with the intruder. He had halted close to her, and was standing quite
+still.
+
+"Blase!" she exclaimed, with a faint cry. "How you startled me!"
+
+"Where have you been?" asked Blase, in sullen tones. "Your mother says
+you've been out for I don't know how many hours."
+
+"I've been to Granny Sandon's. Good-night to you, Blase: it is late."
+
+"A little too late for honest girls," returned Blase, putting himself
+in her way. "Have you been stopping out with _him?_" pointing to the
+fast-disappearing figure of Frank Raynor.
+
+"I met Mr. Raynor here, where we are standing; and was talking with
+him for about a minute."
+
+"It seems to me you are always meeting him," growled Blase,
+suppressing any mention of the dance he had seen, and the kiss that
+succeeded it.
+
+"Do you want to quarrel with me, Blase? It seems so by your tone."
+
+"You met him at dusk this evening as you were going to old
+Sandon's--if you _were_ going there; and you meet him now in
+returning," continued Blase. "It's done on purpose."
+
+"If I did meet him each time, it was by accident. Do you suppose I put
+myself in the way of meeting Mr. Raynor?"
+
+"Yes, I do. There!"
+
+"You shall not say these things to me, Blase. Just because you chance
+to be a fifteenth cousin of my mother's, you think that gives you a
+right to lecture me."
+
+"You are always out and about somewhere," contended Blase. "What on
+earth d'you want at old Sandon's for ever?"
+
+"She is sad and lonely, Blase," was the pleading answer, given in a
+tone of sweet pity. "Think of her sorrow! Poor Granny Sandon!"
+
+"Why do you call her 'Granny'?" demanded Blase, who was in a
+fault-finding mood. "She's no granny of yours, Rosaline."
+
+Rosaline laughed slightly. "Indeed, I don't know why we call her
+'Granny,' Blase. Every one does. Let me pass."
+
+"Every one doesn't. No: you are not going to pass yet. I intend to
+have it out with you about the way you favour that fool, Raynor.
+Meeting him at all hours of the day and night."
+
+Rosaline's anger was aroused. In her heart she disliked Blase Pellet.
+He had given her trouble for some time past in trying to force his
+attentions upon her. It seemed to her that half the work of her life
+consisted in devising means to repress and avoid him.
+
+"How dare you speak to me in this manner, Blase Pellet? You have not
+the right to do it, and you never will have."
+
+"You'd rather listen to the false palaver of that stuck-up gentleman,
+Raynor, than you would to the words of an honest man like me."
+
+"Blase Pellet, hear me once for all," vehemently retorted the girl.
+"Whatever Mr. Raynor may say to me, it is nothing to you; it never
+will be anything to you. If you speak in this way of him again, I
+shall tell him of it."
+
+She eluded the outstretched arm, ran swiftly by, and gained her home.
+Blase Pellet, standing to watch, saw the light within as she opened
+the door and entered.
+
+"_Is_ it nothing to me!" he repeated, in a crestfallen tone. "You'll
+find that out before we are a day older, Miss Rosaline. I'll stop your
+fun with that proud fellow, Raynor."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+ON THE BARE PLAIN.
+
+
+     "In vain I look from height and tower,
+        No wished-for form I see;
+      In vain I seek the woodbine bower--
+        He comes no more to me."
+
+
+So sang Rosaline Bell in the beams of the morning sun. They came
+glinting between the hyacinths in the window, and fell on the cups and
+saucers. Rosaline stood at the kitchen-table, washing up the
+breakfast-things. She wore a light print gown, with a white linen
+collar fastened by a small silver brooch.
+
+An expression of intense happiness sat on her beautiful face. This old
+song, that she was singing to herself in a sweet undertone, was one
+that her mother used to sing to her when she was a child. The words
+came from the girl half unconsciously; for, while she sang, she was
+living over again in thought last night's meeting with Frank Raynor on
+the Bare Plain.
+
+"Rosie!"
+
+The fond name, called in her mother's voice, interrupted her. Putting
+down the saucer she was drying, she advanced to the staircase-door,
+which opened from the kitchen, and stood there.
+
+"Yes, mother! Did you want me?"
+
+"Has your father gone out, Rose?"
+
+"Yes. He said he should not be long."
+
+"Oh no, I dare say not!" crossly responded Mrs. Bell; her tone plainly
+implying that she put no faith whatever in any promise of the sort.
+"They'll make a day of it again, as they did yesterday. Bring me a
+little warm water in half-an-hour, Rose, and I'll get up."
+
+"Very well, mother."
+
+Rose returned to her tea-cups, and resumed her song; resumed it in
+very gladness of heart. Ah, could she only have known what this day
+was designed to bring forth for her before it should finally close,
+she had sunk down in the blankness of despair! But there was no
+foreshadowing on her spirit.
+
+
+     "'Twas at the dawn of a summer morn,
+         My false love hied away;
+       O'er his shoulder hung the hunter's horn,
+         And his looks were blithe and gay.
+
+     "'Ere the evening dew-drops fall, my love,'
+         He thus to me, did say,
+      'I'll be at the garden-gate, my love'--
+         And gaily he rode away."
+
+
+Another interruption. Some one tried the door--of which Rosaline had a
+habit of slipping the bolt--and then knocked sharply. Rosaline opened
+it. A rough-looking woman, miserably attired, stood there: an
+inhabitant of one of the poorest dwellings in this quarter.
+
+"I wants to know," cried this woman, in a voice as uncouth as her
+speech, and with a dialect that needs translation for the uninitiated
+reader, "whether they vools o' men be at work to-day."
+
+"I think not," replied Rosaline.
+
+"There's that man o' mine gone off again to the Golden Shaaft, and
+he'll come hoam as he did yesternight! What tha plague does they
+father go and fill all they vools up weth lies about they Whistlers
+for? That's what I'd like to know. If Bell had heered they Whistlers,
+others 'ud hev heered they."
+
+"I can't tell you anything at all about it, Mrs. Janes," returned
+Rosaline, civilly but very distantly; for she knew these people to be
+immeasurably her inferiors, and held them at arm's-length. "You can
+ask my father about it yourself; he'll be here by-and-by. I can't let
+you in now; mother's just as poorly as ever to-day, and she cannot
+bear a noise."
+
+Closing the door as she spoke, and slipping the bolt, lest rude Mrs.
+Janes should choose to enter by force, Rosaline took up her song
+again.
+
+
+     "I watched from the topmost, topmost height,
+        Till the sun's bright beams were o'er,
+      And the pale moon shed her vestal light--
+        But my lover returned no more."
+
+
+Whether the men were still incited by a dread of the Seven Whistlers,
+and were really afraid to descend into the mines, or whether they used
+the pretext as an excuse for a second day's holiday, certain it was
+that not a single man had gone to work. Ross, the overseer, reiterated
+his threats of punishment again and again; and reiterated in vain.
+
+As a general rule, there exists not a more sober race of men than that
+of the Cornish miners; and the miners in question had once been no
+exception to the rule. But some few years before this, on the occasion
+of a prolonged dispute between masters and men, many fresh workmen had
+been imported from distant parts of England, and they had brought
+their drinking habits with them. The Cornish men caught them up in a
+degree: but it was only on occasions like the present that they
+indulged them to any extent, and therefore, when they did so, it was
+the more noticeable.
+
+Mr. John Float at the Golden Shaft was doing a great stroke of
+business these idle days. As many men as could find seats in his
+hospitable house took possession of it. Amongst them was Josiah Bell.
+Few had ever seen Bell absolutely intoxicated; but he now and then
+took enough to render him more sullen than usual; and at such times he
+was sure to be quarrelsome.
+
+Turning out of the Golden Shaft on this second day between twelve and
+one o'clock, Bell went down the street towards his home, with some
+more men who lived in that direction. Dr. Raynor chanced to be
+standing outside his house, and accosted Bell. The other men walked
+on.
+
+"Not at work yet, Bell!"
+
+"Not at work yet," echoed Bell, as doggedly as he dared, and standing
+to face the doctor.
+
+"How long do you mean to let this fancy about the Seven Whistlers
+hinder you? When is it to end?"
+
+Bell's eyes went out straight before him, as if trying to foresee what
+and where the end would be, and his tones lost their fierceness. This
+fancy in regard to the Seven Whistlers--as the doctor styled it--had
+evidently taken a serious, nay, a solemn hold upon him. Whether or not
+the other men anticipated ill-fortune from it, most indisputably Bell
+did so.
+
+"I don't know, sir," he said, quite humbly. "I should like to see the
+end."
+
+"Are you feeling well, Bell?" continued Dr. Raynor, in a tone of
+sympathy--for the strange grey pallor was on the man's face still.
+
+"I'm well enough, doctor. What should ail me?"
+
+"You don't look well."
+
+Bell shifted his stick from one hand to the other. "The Whistlers gave
+me a turn, I suppose," he said.
+
+"Nonsense, man! You should not be so superstitious."
+
+"See here, Dr. Raynor," was the reply--and the tone was lowered in
+what sounded very like fear. "You know of the hurt I got in the pit in
+Staffordshire--which lamed me for good? Well, the night before it I
+heard the Seven Whistlers. They warned me of ill-luck then; and now
+they've warned me again, and I know it will come. I won't go down the
+mine till three days have passed. The other men may do as they like."
+
+He walked on with the last words. Mr. Blase Pellet, who had been
+looking on at the interview from over the way, gazed idly after Bell
+until he had turned the corner and was out of sight. All in a moment,
+as though some recollection came suddenly to him, Blase tore off his
+white apron, darted in for his hat, and ran after Bell; coming up with
+him just beyond the parsonage.
+
+What Mr. Blase Pellet communicated to him, to put Bell's temper up as
+it did, and what particular language he used, was best known to
+himself. If the young man had any conscience, one would think that
+remorse, for what that communication led to, must lie on it to his
+dying day. Its substance was connected with Rosaline and Frank Raynor.
+He was telling tales of them, giving his own colouring to what he
+said, and representing the latter gentleman and matters in general in
+a very unfavourable light indeed.
+
+"If he dares to molest her again, I'll knock his head off," threatened
+Bell to himself and the Bare Plain, as he parted with Pellet, and made
+his way across it, muttering and brandishing his stick. The other men
+had disappeared, each within his home. Bell was about to enter his,
+when Mrs. Janes came out of her one room, her hair hanging, her gown
+in tatters, her voice shrill. She placed herself before Bell.
+
+"I've been asking about my man. They tells me he es in a-drinking at
+the Golden Shaaft. I'll twist hes ears for he when he comes out on't
+And now I'm a-going to have it out with you about they Whistlers! Ef
+the----"
+
+Mrs. Janes's eloquence was summarily arrested. With an unceremonious
+push, Josiah Bell put her out of his way, strode on to his own door,
+and closed it against her.
+
+Rosaline was alone, laying the cloth for dinner. Bell, excited by
+drink, abused his daughter roundly, accusing her of "lightness" and
+all sorts of unorthodox things. Rosaline stared at him in simple
+astonishment.
+
+"Why, father, what can you be thinking of?" she exclaimed. "Who has
+been putting this into your head?"
+
+"Blase Pellet," answered Bell, scorning to equivocate. "And I'd a mind
+to knock him down for his pains--whether it's true or whether it's
+not."
+
+"True!--that I could be guilty of light conduct!" returned Rosaline.
+"Father, I thought you knew me better. As to Mr. Raynor, I don't
+believe he is capable of an unworthy thought. He would rather do good
+in the world than evil."
+
+And her tone was so truthful, her demeanour so consciously dignified,
+that Bell felt his gloomy thoughts melt away as if by magic; and he
+wished he _had_ knocked Mr. Pellet down.
+
+
+The day went on to evening, and tea was being taken at Dr. Raynor's.
+Five o'clock was the usual hour for the meal, and it was now nearly
+seven: but the doctor had been some miles into the country to see a
+wealthy patient, and Edina waited for him. They sat round the table in
+the best parlour; the one of which the bow-window looked on to the
+street; the other room was chiefly used for breakfast and dinner.
+
+Its warm curtains were drawn before the window now, behind the small
+table that held the stand of beautiful white coral, brought home years
+ago by Major Raynor; the fire burned brightly; two candles stood near
+the tea-tray. Behind the doctor, who sat facing the window, was a
+handsome cabinet, a few choice books on its shelves. Frank, reading a
+newspaper and sipping his tea, sat between his uncle and Edina.
+
+This was the night of the ball at The Mount. Edina was going to it. A
+most unusual dissipation for her; one she was quite unaccustomed to.
+Trennach afforded no opportunity for this sort of visiting, and it
+would have been all the same to Miss Raynor if it had. As she truly
+said, she had not been to a dance for years and years. Frank was
+making merry over it, asking her whether she could remember her
+"steps."
+
+"I am sorry you accepted for me, papa," she suddenly said. "I have
+regretted it ever since."
+
+"Why, Edina?"
+
+"It is not in my way, you know, papa. And I have had the trouble of
+altering a dress.
+
+"Mrs. St. Clare was good enough to press your going, Edina--she
+candidly told me she wanted more ladies--and I did not like to refuse.
+She wanted _me_ to go," added Dr. Raynor, with a broad smile.
+
+"I'm sure, papa, you would be as much of an ornament at a ball as I
+shall be--and would be far more welcome to Mrs. St. Clare," said
+Edina.
+
+"Ornament? Oh, I leave that to Frank."
+
+"I dare say you could dance, even now, as well as I can, papa."
+
+Something like a flash of pain crossed his face. _He_ dance now! Edina
+little thought how near--if matters with regard to himself were as he
+suspected--how very near he was to the end of all things.
+
+"You looked tired, papa," she said.
+
+"I am tired, child. That horse of mine does not seem to carry me as
+easily as he did. Or perhaps it is I who feel his action more. What do
+you say, Frank?"
+
+"About the horse, uncle? I think he is just as easy to ride as he
+always was."
+
+Dr. Raynor suppressed a sigh, and quitted the room. Frank rose, put
+his elbow on the mantelpiece, and glanced at his good-looking face in
+the glass.
+
+"What time do you mean to start, Edina?"
+
+"At half-past eight. _I_ don't wish to go in later than the card
+says--nine o'clock. It is a shame to invite people for so late an
+hour!"
+
+"It is late for Trennach," acknowledged Frank; "but would be early for
+some places. Mrs. St. Clare has brought her fashionable hours with
+her."
+
+At that moment, the entrance-door was pushed violently open, and an
+applicant was heard to clatter in, in a desperate hurry. Frank went
+out to see.
+
+Mrs. Molly Janes was lying at home, half killed, in immediate need of
+the services of either Dr. or Mr. Raynor. Mr. Janes had just staggered
+home from his day's enjoyment at the Golden Shaft: his wife was unwise
+enough to attack him in that state; he had retaliated and nearly
+"done" for her. Such was the substance of the report brought by the
+messenger--a lad with wild eyes and panting breath.
+
+"You will have to go, Frank," said the doctor. "I am sorry for it, but
+I am really not able to walk there to-night. My ride shook me
+fearfully."
+
+"Of course I will go, sir," replied Frank, in his ready way. "I shall
+be back long before Edina wants me. What are Mrs. Janes's chief
+injuries?" he asked, turning to the boy.
+
+"He heve faaled on her like a fiend, master," answered the alarmed
+lad. "He've broke aal her bones to lerrups, he heve."
+
+A bad account. Frank prepared to start without delay. He had left his
+hat in the parlour; and whilst getting it he said a hasty word to
+Edina--he had to go off to the cottages on the Bare Plain. Edina
+caught up the idea that it was Mrs. Bell who needed him: she knew of
+no other patient in that quarter.
+
+"Come back as quickly as you can, Frank," she said. "You have to
+dress, you know. Don't stay chattering with Rosaline."
+
+"With Rosaline!" he exclaimed, in surprise. "Oh, I see. It is not Mrs.
+Bell who wants me; it is Molly Janes. She and her husband have been at
+issue again."
+
+With a gay laugh at Edina's advice touching Rosaline, and the rather
+serious and meaning tone she gave it in, Frank hastened away. The fact
+was, some odds and ends of joking had been heard in the village
+lately, coupling Frank's name with the girl's, and they had reached
+the ears of Edina. She intended to talk to Frank warningly about it on
+the first opportunity.
+
+When about half-way across the Bare Plain, Frank saw some man before
+him, in the moonlight, who was not very steady on his legs. The lad
+had gone rushing forward, thinking to come in at the end of the fight;
+should it, haply, still be going on.
+
+"What, is it you, Bell!" exclaimed Frank, recognizing the staggerer as
+he overtook and passed him. "You've had nearly as much as you can
+carry, have you not?" he added, in light good-nature.
+
+It was Bell. Stumbling homewards from the Golden Shaft. A very early
+hour indeed, considering the state he was in, for him to quit the
+seductions of that hostelry. He had been unwise enough to go back to
+it after his dinner, and there he had sat until now. Had he chosen to
+keep sober, the matter whispered by Blase Pellet would not have
+returned to rankle in his mind: as he did not, it had soon begun to do
+so ominously. With every cup he took, the matter grew in his
+imagination, until it assumed an ugly look, and became a very black
+picture. And he had now come blundering forth with the intention of
+"looking out for himself," as ingeniously suggested by Blase Pellet
+that day when they were parting. In short, to track the steps and
+movements of the two suspected people; to watch whether they met, and
+all about it.
+
+"Perhaps other folks will have as much as they can carry soon," was
+his insolent retort to Frank, lifting the heavy stick in his hand
+menacingly. At which Frank only laughed, and sped onwards.
+
+A terribly savage mood rushed over Josiah Bell. Seeing Frank strike
+off towards Bleak Row, he concluded that it was to his dwelling-house
+he was bent, and to see Rosaline. And he gnashed his teeth in fury,
+and gave vent to a fierce oath because he could not overtake the steps
+of the younger man.
+
+Bursting in at his own door when he at length reached it, he sent his
+eyes round the room in search of the offenders. But all the living
+inmates that met his view consisted of his wife in her mob-cap and
+white apron, knitting, as usual, in her own chair, and the cat
+sleeping upon the hearth.
+
+"Where's Rosaline?"
+
+Mrs. Bell put down her knitting--a grey worsted stocking for Bell
+himself--and sighed deeply as she gazed at him. He had not been very
+sober at dinnertime: he was worse now. Nevertheless she felt thankful
+that he had come home so soon.
+
+"She's gone out!" he continued, before Mrs. Bell had spoken: and it
+was evident that the fact of Rosaline's being out was putting him into
+a furious passion. "Who is she with?"
+
+"Rose went over after tea to sit a bit with Granny Sandon. Granny's
+worse to-day, poor thing. I'm expecting her back every minute."
+
+Bell staggered to the fireplace and stood there grasping his stick.
+His wife went on with her knitting in silence. To reproach him now
+would do harm instead of good. It must be owned that his exceeding to
+this extent was quite an exceptional case: not many times had his wife
+known him do it.
+
+"Where's Raynor?" he broke out.
+
+"Raynor!" she echoed, in surprise. "Do you mean Mr. Frank Raynor? I
+don't know where he is."
+
+"He came in here a few minutes ago."
+
+"Bless you, no, not he," returned the wife, in an easy tone, thinking
+it the best tone to assume just then.
+
+"I tell ye I saw him come here."
+
+"The moonlight must have misled you, Josiah. Mr. Raynor has not been
+here to-day. Put down your stick and take off your hat: and sit down
+and be comfortable."
+
+To this persuasive invitation, Bell made no reply. Yet a minute or two
+he stood in silence, gazing at the fire; then, grasping his stick more
+firmly, and ramming his hat upon his head, he staggered out again,
+banging the door after him. Mrs. Bell sighed audibly; she supposed he
+was returning to the Golden Shaft.
+
+Meanwhile Frank Raynor was with Mrs. Molly Janes. Her damages were not
+so bad as had been represented, and he proceeded to treat them: which
+took some little time. Leaving her a model of artistically-applied
+sticking-plaster, Frank started homewards again. The night was most
+beautiful; the sky clear, except for a few fleecy clouds that now and
+then passed across it, the silvery moon riding grandly above them.
+Just as Frank came opposite the Bottomless Shaft, he met Rosaline, on
+her way home from Granny Sandon's.
+
+They stopped to speak--as a matter of course. Frank told her of the
+affray that had taken place, and the punishment of Molly Janes. While
+Rosaline listened, she kept her face turned in the direction she had
+come from, as though she were watching for some one: and her quick
+eyes discerned a figure approaching in the moonlight.
+
+"Good-night--you pass on, Mr. Frank," she suddenly and hurriedly
+exclaimed. "I am going to hide here for a minute."
+
+Darting towards the Bottomless Shaft, she took refuge amongst the
+surrounding mounds: mounds which looked like great earth batteries,
+thrown up in time of war. Instead of passing on his way, Frank
+followed her, in sheer astonishment: and found her behind the furthest
+mound at the back of the Shaft.
+
+"Are you hiding from _me?_" he demanded. "What is it, Rosaline? I
+don't understand."
+
+"Not from you," she whispered. "Why didn't you go on? Hush! Some one is
+going to pass that I don't want to see.
+
+"Who is it? Your father? I think he has gone home."
+
+"It is Blase Pellet," she answered. "I saw him at the shop-door as I
+came by, and I think he is following me. He talks nonsense, and I
+would rather walk home alone. Listen! Can we hear his footsteps, do
+you think, sir? He must be going by now."
+
+Frank humoured her: he did not particularly like Blase Pellet himself,
+but he had no motive in remaining still, except that it was her wish.
+On the contrary, he would have preferred to be going homewards, for he
+had not much time to lose. Whistling softly, leaning against the
+nearest mound, he watched the white clouds coursing in the sky.
+
+"He must have passed now, Rosaline."
+
+She stole cautiously away, to reconnoitre; and came back with a
+beaming face.
+
+"Yes," she said, "and he has gone quickly, for he is out of sight. He
+must have run, thinking to catch me up."
+
+"I wonder you were not afraid to go through the mounds alone and pass
+close to the Bottomless Shaft!" cried Frank, in a tone of raillery, no
+longer deeming it necessary to lower his voice. "Old Sandon's ghost
+might have come up, you know, and carried you off.
+
+"I am not afraid of old Sandon's ghost," said Rosaline.
+
+"I dare say not!" laughed Frank.
+
+In a spirit of bravado, or perhaps in very lightness of heart,
+Rosaline suddenly ran through the zigzag turnings, until she stood
+close to the mouth of the Shaft. Frank followed her, quickly also, for
+in truth he was impatient to be gone.
+
+"I am listening for the ghost," said she, her head bent over the
+yawning pit. It was a dangerous position: the least slip, one
+incautious step nearer, might have been irredeemable: and Frank put
+his arm round her waist to protect her.
+
+Another half-moment passed, when---- They hardly knew what occurred. A
+howl of rage, a heavy stick brandished over them in the air, and
+Rosaline started back, to see her father. Old Bell must have been
+hiding amongst the mounds on his own score, looking out for what might
+be seen.
+
+Down came the stick heavily on Frank's shoulders. An instant's tussle
+ensued: a shout from a despairing, falling man; a momentary glimpse of
+an upturned face; a cry of horror from a woman's voice; an agonized
+word from her companion; and all was over. Francis Raynor and the
+unhappy Rosaline stood alone under the pitiless moonlight.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+WAITING FOR BELL.
+
+
+The fire threw its glow on Mrs. Bell's kitchen--kitchen and
+sitting-room combined--lighting up the strip of bright carpet before
+the fender and the red-tiled floor; playing on the plates and dishes
+on the dresser, and on the blue hyacinth glasses in the window, now
+closed in by the outer shutters. Stout Mrs. Bell sat by the round
+table in her white apron and mob-cap, plying her knitting-needles. On
+the other side the hearth sat a neighbour, one Nancy Tomson, a tall,
+thin Cornish woman in a check apron, with projecting teeth and a high
+nose, who had come in for a chat. On the table waited the supper of
+bread-and-cheese; and a candle stood ready for lighting.
+
+The clock struck nine. Mrs. Bell looked up as though the sound half
+startled her.
+
+"Who'd heve thought it!" cried the visitor, whose chatter had been
+going incessantly for the last hour, causing the time to pass quickly.
+"Be they clock too fast, Dame Bell?"
+
+"No," said the dame. "It's right by the church."
+
+"Well, I'd never heve said it were nine. Your folks es late. I wonder
+where they be that they don't come hoam."
+
+"No need to wonder," returned Mrs. Bell, in sharp tones, meant for the
+absentees. "Rosaline's staying with poor Granny Sandon, who seems to
+have nobody else to stay with her. As to Bell, he is off again to the
+Golden Shaft."
+
+"You said he had comed in."
+
+"He did come in: and I thought he had come in for good. But he didn't
+stay a minute; he must needs tramp out again. And he was further gone,
+Nancy Tomson, than I've seen him these three years."
+
+Dame Bell plied her needles vigorously, as if her temper had got down
+into her fingers. The visitor plunged into renewed conversation,
+chiefly turning upon that interesting episode, the encounter between
+Janes and his wife. At half-past nine, Mrs. Bell put down her knitting
+and rose from her seat. She was growing uneasy.
+
+"What can keep Rosaline? She never stays out so late as this, let
+Granny Sandon want her ever so. I'll take a look out and see if I can
+see her."
+
+Unbolting and opening the door she admitted a flood of pale moonlight:
+pale, compared with the ruddier glow of the interior. Mrs. Bell peered
+out across the Bare Plain in the direction of Trennach; and Nancy
+Tomson, who was always ready for any divertisement, advanced and
+stretched her long neck over Dame Bell's shoulder.
+
+"It's a rare light night," she said. "But I don't see nobody coming,
+Mrs. Bell. They keeps to the Golden Shaaft."
+
+Feeling the air cold after the hot fire, Nancy Tomson withdrew indoors
+again. She was in no hurry to be gone. Her husband made one of the
+company at the Golden Shaft to-night, and this warm domicile was
+pleasanter than her own. Dame Bell was about to shut the door, when a
+faint sound caused her to look quickly out again, and advance somewhat
+farther than she did before. Leaning against the wall on the other
+side the window was a dark object: and, to Mrs. Bell's intense
+surprise, she discovered it to be Rosaline.
+
+Rosaline, in what appeared to be the very utmost abandonment of grief
+or of terror. Her hands were clasped, her face was bent down. Every
+laboured breath she took seemed to come forth with suppressed anguish.
+
+"Why, child, what on earth's the matter?" ejaculated the mother. "What
+are you staying there for?"
+
+The words quickly brought out Nancy Tomson. Her exclamations, when she
+saw Rosaline, might almost have been heard at Trennach.
+
+Rosaline's moans subsided into silence. She slowly moved from the
+wall, and they helped her indoors. Her face was white as that of the
+dead, and appeared to have a nameless horror in it. She sat down on
+the first chair she came to, put her arms on the table, and her head
+upon them, so that her countenance was hidden. The two women, closing
+the front-door, stood gazing at her with the most intense curiosity.
+
+"She heve been frighted," whispered Nancy Tomson. And it did indeed
+look like it. Mrs. Bell, however, negatived the suggestion.
+
+"Frighted! What is there to frighten her? What's the matter,
+Rosaline?" she continued, somewhat sharply. "Be you struck mooney,
+child?"
+
+Nancy Tomson was one who liked her own opinion, and held to the
+fright. She advanced a step or two nearer Rosaline, dropping her voice
+to a low key.
+
+"Heve you seen anything o' Dan Sandon? Maybe hes ghost shawed itself
+to you as you come by the Bottomless Shaaft?"
+
+The words seemed to affect Rosaline so strongly that the table, not a
+very substantial one, vibrated beneath her weight.
+
+"Then just you tell us whaat else it es," pursued Nancy Tomson, eager
+for enlightenment--for Rosaline had made a movement in the negative as
+to Dan Sandon's ghost. "Sure," added the woman to Mrs. Bell, "sure
+Janes and her be not a-fighting again! Sure he heven't been and killed
+her! Is it _that_ whaat heve frighted you, Rosaline?"
+
+"No, no," murmured Rosaline.
+
+"Well, it must be something or t'other," urged the woman, beside
+herself with curiosity. "One caan't be frighted to death for nothing.
+Heve ye faaled down and hurted yerself?"
+
+An idea, like an inspiration, seized upon Mrs. Bell. And it seemed to
+her so certain to be the true one that she only wondered she had not
+thought of it before. She laid her hand upon her daughter's shoulder.
+
+"Rosaline! You have heard the Seven Whistlers!"
+
+A slight pause. Rosaline neither stirred nor spoke. To Nancy Tomson
+the suggestion cleared up the mystery.
+
+"_Thaat's it_," she cried emphatically. "Where was aal my wits, I
+wonder, thaat I never remembered they? Now doan't you go for to deny
+it, Rosaline Bell: you have heared they Seven Whistlers, and gashly
+things they be."
+
+Another pause. A shiver. And then Rosaline slowly lifted her white
+face.
+
+"Yes," she answered. "The Seven Whistlers." And the avowal struck such
+consternation on her hearers, although the suggestion had first come
+from them, that they became dumb.
+
+"Father heard them, you know," went on Rosaline, a look of terror in
+her eyes, and a dreamy, far-off sound in her voice. "Father heard
+them. And they mean ill-luck."
+
+"They bode death: as some says," spoke Nancy Tomson, lowering her
+voice to an appropriate key.
+
+"Yes," repeated Rosaline, in a tone of sad wailing. "Yes: they bode
+death. Oh, mother! mother!"
+
+But now, Mrs. Bell, although given, like her neighbours, to putting
+some faith in the Seven Whistlers: for example is contagious: was by
+no means one to be overcome with the fear of them. Rather was the
+superstition regarded by her as a prolific theme for gossip, and she
+altogether disapproved of the men's making it an excuse for idleness.
+Had she heard the Whistlers with her own ears, it would not have moved
+her much. Of course she did not particularly like the Whistlers; she
+was willing to believe that they were in some mysterious way the
+harbingers of ill-luck; and the discomfort evinced by her husband on
+Sunday night, when he returned home after hearing the sounds, had in a
+degree imparted discomfort to herself. But, that any one should be put
+into a state of terror by them, such as this now displayed by
+Rosaline, she looked upon as absurd and unreasonable.
+
+"Don't take on like that, child!" she rebuked. "You must be silly.
+They don't bode _your_ death: never fear. I'll warm you a cup o'
+pea-soup. There's some left in the crock."
+
+She bustled into the back-kitchen for the soup and a saucepan.
+Rosaline kept her head down: deep, laboured breathings agitated her.
+Nancy Tomson stood looking on, her arms folded in her check apron.
+
+"Whereabouts did ye hear they Whistlers, Rosaline?" she asked at
+length.
+
+But there was no answer.
+
+"On the Bare Plain, I take it," resumed the woman. "Were't a-nigh they
+mounds by the Shaaft? Sounds echoes in they zigzag paths rarely. I've
+heard the wind a-whistling like anything there afore now. She be a
+pewerly lonesome consarn, thaat Shaaft, for waun who has to paas her
+at night alone."
+
+A moan, telling of the sharpest mental agony, broke from Rosaline.
+Dame Bell heard it as she was coming in. In the midst of her sympathy,
+it angered her.
+
+"Rosaline, I won't have this. There's reason in roasting of eggs. We
+shall have your father here directly, and what will he say? I can tell
+you, he was bad enough when he went out. Come! just rouse yourself."
+
+"Father heard the Whistlers, and--they--bode--death!" shivered
+Rosaline.
+
+"They don't bode yours, I say," repeated Dame Bell, losing
+patience. "Do you suppose death comes to every person who hears the
+Whistlers?--or ill-luck either?"
+
+"No, no," assented Nancy Tomson, for Rosaline did not speak. "For waun
+that faals into ill-luck after hearing they Whistlers, ten escapes.
+I've knowed a whole crowd o' they men hear the sounds, and nought heve
+come on't to any waun on 'em."
+
+"And that's quite true," said Mrs. Bell.
+
+Rosaline could not be persuaded to try the soup. It was impossible
+that she could swallow it, she said. Taking a candle; she went up to
+her room; to bed, as her mother supposed.
+
+"And the best place for her," remarked Dame Bell. "To think of her
+getting a fright like this!"
+
+But poor Rosaline did not go to bed, and did not undress. Taking her
+shoes off, that she might not be heard, she began to pace the few
+yards of her narrow chamber, to and fro, to and fro, from wall to
+wall, in an anguish the like of which has rarely been felt on earth.
+She was living over again the night's meeting at the Bottomless Shaft
+and its frightful ending: she saw the white, upturned, agonized face,
+and heard the awful cry of despair of him who was falling into its
+pitiless depths, and was now lying there, dead: and it seemed to her
+that she, herself, must die of it.
+
+The clock struck ten, and Nancy Tomson tore herself away from the warm
+and hospitable kitchen, after regaling herself upon the soup rejected
+by Rosaline. And Dame Bell sat on, knitting, and waiting for her
+husband.
+
+
+When Rosaline, her hands lifted in distress, tore away that evening
+from the Bottomless Shaft, and the tragedy that had been enacted
+there, and went flying over the Bare Plain towards home, Frank Raynor,
+recovering from the horror which had well-nigh stunned his faculties,
+went after her. Two or three times he attempted to say a word to her,
+but she took no notice of him; only sped the quicker, if that were
+possible. She never answered; it was as if she did not hear. When they
+reached the narrow path that branched off to the cottages, there she
+stopped, and turned towards him.
+
+"We part here. Part for ever.
+
+"Are you going home?" he asked.
+
+"Where else should I go?" she rejoined, in anguish. "Where else can I
+go?"
+
+"I will see you safe to the door.
+
+"No. No! Good-bye."
+
+And, throwing up her hands, as if to ward him off, she would have sped
+onwards. But Frank Raynor could not part thus: he had something to
+say, and detained her, holding her hands tightly. A few hasty words
+passed between them, and then she was at liberty to go on. He stood
+watching her until she drew near to her own door, and then turned back
+on his way across the plain.
+
+In his whole life Francis Raynor had never felt as he was feeling now.
+An awful weight had settled upon his soul. His friends had been wont
+to say that no calamity upon earth could bring down Frank's exuberant
+spirits, or change the lightness of his ways. But something had been
+found to do it now. Little less agitated was he than Rosaline; the
+sense of horror upon him was the same as hers.
+
+He was now passing the fatal spot, the Bottomless Shaft; its
+surrounding hillocks shone out in the moonlight. Frank turned his eyes
+that way, and stood still to gaze. Of their own accord, and as if some
+fascination impelled him against his will, his steps moved
+thitherwards.
+
+With a livid face, and noiseless feet, and a heart that ceased for the
+moment to beat, he took the first narrow zigzag between two of the
+mounds. And--but what was it that met his gaze? As he came in view of
+the Shaft, he saw the figure of a man standing on its brink. The sight
+was so utterly unexpected, and so unlikely, that Frank stood still,
+scarcely believing it to be reality. For one blissful moment he lost
+sight of impossibilities, and did indeed think it must be Josiah Bell.
+
+Only for an instant. The truth returned to his mind in all its
+wretchedness, together with the recognition of Mr. Blase Pellet. Mr.
+Blase was gingerly bending forward, but with the utmost caution, and
+looking down into the pit. As if he were listening for what might be
+to be heard there: just as the unhappy Rosaline had professed to
+listen a few minutes before.
+
+Frank had not made any noise; and, even though he had, a strong gust
+of wind, just then sweeping the mounds, deadened all sound but its
+own. But, with that subtle instinct that warns us sometimes of a human
+presence, Blase Pellet turned sharply round, and saw him. Not a word
+passed. Frank drew silently back--though he knew the man had
+recognized him--and pursued his way over the Plain.
+
+He guessed how it was. When he and Rosaline had been waiting amidst
+the mounds for Blase Pellet to pass, Blase had not passed. Blase must
+have seen them cross over to the spot in the moonlight; and, instead
+of continuing his route, had stealthily crossed after them and
+concealed himself in one or other of the narrow zigzags. He must have
+remained there until now. How much had he seen? How much did he know?
+If anything had been capable of adding to the weight of perplexity and
+trouble that had fallen on Frank Raynor, it would be this. He groaned
+in spirit he pursued his way homeward.
+
+"How late you are, Frank!"
+
+The words, spoken by Edina, met him as he entered. Hearing him come
+in, she had opened the door of the sitting-room. In the bewildering
+confusion of his mind, the perplexity as to the future, the sudden
+shock of the one moment's calamity, which might change the whole
+current of his future life, Frank Raynor had lost all recollection of
+the engagement for the evening. The appearance of Edina recalled it to
+him.
+
+She was in evening dress: though very sober dress. A plain grey silk,
+its low body and short sleeves trimmed with a little white lace; a
+gold chain and locket on her neck; and bracelets of not much value.
+Quite ready, all but her gloves.
+
+"Are--are you going, Edina?"
+
+"_Going!_" replied Edina. "Of course I am going. You are going also,
+are you not?"
+
+Frank pushed his hair off his brow. The gay scene at The Mount, and
+the dreadful scene in which he had just been an actor, struck upon him
+as being frightfully incongruous. Edina was gazing at him: she
+detected some curious change in his manner, and she saw that he was
+looking very pale.
+
+"Is anything the matter, Frank? Are you not well?"
+
+"Oh, I am quite well."
+
+"Surely that poor woman is not dead?"
+
+"What woman?" asked Frank, his wits still wool-gathering. Dr. Raynor,
+leaving his chair by the parlour-fire, had also come to the door, and
+was looking on.
+
+"Have you been to see more than one woman?" said Edina. "I meant Molly
+Janes."
+
+"Oh--ay--yes," returned Frank, passing his hand over his perplexed
+brow. "She'll be all right in a few days. There's no very serious
+damage done."
+
+"What has made you so long, then?" questioned the doctor.
+
+"I--did not know it was late," was the only excuse poor Frank could
+think of, as he turned from the steady gaze of Edina: though he might
+have urged that plastering up Mrs. Molly's wounds had taken time. And
+in point of fact he did not, even yet, know whether it was late or
+early.
+
+"Pray make haste, Frank," said Edina. "You can dress quickly when you
+like. I did not wish, you know, to be so late as this."
+
+He turned to seek his room. There was no help for it: he must go to
+this revelry. Edina could not go alone: and, indeed, he had no plea
+for declining to accompany her. Not until he was taking off his coat
+did he remember the blow on his shoulder. Frank Raynor, in his mind's
+grievous trouble, had neither felt the pain left by the blow, nor
+remembered that he had received one.
+
+Yet it was a pretty severe stroke, and the shoulder on which it fell
+was stiff and aching. Frank, his coat off, was passing his hand gently
+over the place, perhaps to ascertain the extent of the damage, when
+the door was tapped at and then opened by Edina.
+
+"I have brought you a flower for your button-hole, Frank."
+
+It was a hot-house flower, white and beautiful as wax. Dr. Raynor had
+brought it from a patient's house where he had been in the afternoon,
+and Edina had kept it until the last moment as a small surprise to
+Frank. He took it mechanically; thanking her, it is true, but very
+tamely, his thoughts evidently far away. Edina could only note the
+change: what had become of Frank's light-heartedness?
+
+"Is anything wrong with your shoulder?"
+
+"It has a bit of a bruise, I think," he carelessly answered, putting
+the flower down on his dressing-table.
+
+She shut the door, and Frank went on dressing, always mechanically.
+How many nights, and days, and weeks, and years, would it be before
+his mind would lose the horror of the recent scene!
+
+"I wish to Heaven that she-demon, Molly Janes, had been _there!_" he
+cried, stamping his foot on the floor in a sudden access of grief and
+passion. "But for her vagaries, I should not have been called out this
+evening, and this frightful calamity would not have happened!"
+
+Edina was ready when he went down, cloaked and shawled, a warm hood
+over her smooth brown hair. The doctor did not keep a close carriage;
+such a thing as a fly was not to be had at Trennach; and so they had
+to walk. Mrs. St. Clare had graciously intimated that she would send
+her carriage for Miss Raynor if the night turned out a bad one. But
+the night was bright and fine.
+
+"You will be _sure_ not to sit up for us, papa," said Edina, while
+Frank was putting on his overcoat. "It is quite uncertain what time we
+shall return home."
+
+"No, no, child; I shall not sit up."
+
+When they came to the end of the village, Frank turned on to the
+roadway, at the back of the parsonage. Edina, who was on his arm,
+asked him why he did so: the Bare Plain was the nearer way.
+
+"But this is less dreary," was his answer. "We shall be there soon
+enough."
+
+"Nay, I think the Bare Plain far less dreary than the road: especially
+on such a night as this," said Edina. "Here we are over-shadowed by
+trees: on the Plain we have the full moonlight."
+
+He said no more: only kept on his way. It did not matter; it would
+make only about three minutes' difference. Edina stepped out
+cheerfully; she never made a fuss over trifles. By-and-by, she began
+to wonder at his silence. It was very unusual.
+
+"Have you a headache, Frank?"
+
+"No. Yes. Just a little."
+
+Edina said nothing to the contradictory answer. Something unusual and
+unpleasant had decidedly occurred to him.
+
+"How did you bruise your shoulder?" she presently asked.
+
+"Oh--gave it a knock," he said, after the slightest possible pause.
+"My shoulder's all right, Edina: don't talk about it. Much better than
+that confounded Molly Janes's bruises are."
+
+And with the sharp words, sounding so strangely from Frank's
+good-natured lips, Edina gathered the notion that the grievance was in
+some way connected with Molly Janes; perhaps the damaged shoulder
+also. Possibly she had turned obstreperous under the young doctor's
+hands and had shown fight to him as well as to her husband.
+
+The Mount burst upon them in a blaze of light. Plants, festoons,
+music, brilliancy! As they were entering the chief reception-room,
+out-door wrappings removed, Edina missed the beautiful white flower:
+Frank's coat was unadorned.
+
+"Frank! what have you done with your flower?"
+
+His eyes wandered to the flowers decorating the rooms, and then to his
+button-hole, all in an absent sort of way that surprised Miss Raynor.
+
+"I fear I must have forgotten it, Edina. I wish you had worn it
+yourself: it would have been more appropriate. How well it would have
+looked in your hair!"
+
+"Fancy me with flowers in my hair!" laughed Edina. "But, Frank, I
+think Molly Janes must have scared some of your wits away."
+
+Their greeting to Mrs. St. Clare over, Frank found a seat for Edina,
+and stood back himself in a corner, behind a remote door. How terribly
+this scene of worldly excitement contrasted with the one enacted so
+short a time ago! He was living it, perforce, over again; going
+through its short-lived action, that had all been over in one or two
+fatal moments: this, before him, seemed as a dream. The gaily-robed
+women sweeping past him with light laughter; the gleam of jewels; the
+pomp and pageantry: all seemed but the shifting scenes of a panorama.
+Frank could have groaned aloud at the bitter mockery: here life, gay,
+heedless, joyous: there DEATH; death violent and sudden. Never before,
+throughout his days, had the solemn responsibilities of this world and
+of the next so painfully pressed themselves upon him in all their
+dread reality.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Raynor! I thought you were not coming! Have you been here
+long?"
+
+The emotional words came from a fair girl in a cloud of white--Daisy
+St. Clare. Frank's hand went forward to meet the one held out to him:
+but never a smile crossed his face.
+
+"How long have you been here, Mr. Raynor?"
+
+"How long? I am not sure. Half-an-hour, I think."
+
+"Have you been dancing?"
+
+"Oh no. I have been standing here."
+
+"To hide yourself? I really should not have seen you but that I am
+looking everywhere for Lydia's card, which she has lost."
+
+He did not answer: his head was throbbing, his heart beating. Daisy
+thought him very silent.
+
+"I have had my dance with Sir Paul Trellasis," said Daisy, toying with
+her own card, a blush on her face, and her eyes cast down.
+
+At any other moment Frank would have read the signs, and taken the
+hint: she was ready to dance with _him_. But he never asked her: he
+did not take the gilded leaves and pencil into his own hands and write
+down his name as many times as he pleased. He simply stood still,
+gazing out with vacant eyes and a sad look on his face. Daisy at
+length glanced up at him.
+
+"Are you ill?" she inquired.
+
+"No; only tired."
+
+"Too tired to dance?" she ventured to ask, after a pause, her pulses
+quickening a little as she put the suggestive question.
+
+"Yes. I cannot dance to-night, Miss Margaret."
+
+"Oh, but why?"
+
+His breath was coming a little quickly with emotion. Not caused by
+Daisy, and her hope of dancing; but by that terrible _recollection_.
+Subduing his tones as far as possible, he spoke.
+
+"Pray forgive me, Miss Margaret: I really cannot dance to-night."
+
+And the cold demeanour, the discouraging words, threw a chill upon her
+heart. What had she done to him, that he should change like this? With
+a bearing that sought to be proud, but a quivering lip, Margaret
+turned away.
+
+He caught her eye as she was doing so; caught the expression of her
+face, and read its bitter disappointment. The next moment he was
+bending over her, pressing her hand within his.
+
+"Forgive me, Daisy," he whispered, in pleading tones. "Indeed it is
+not caprice: I--I cannot dance to-night. Go and dance to your heart's
+content, and let me hide myself here until Miss Raynor is ready to
+leave you. The kindest thing you can do is to take no further notice
+of me."
+
+He released her hand as he spoke, and stood back again in his dark
+corner. Margaret turned away with a sigh. Her pleasure in the evening
+had flown.
+
+"And he never wished me any good wishes! It might just as well not
+have been my birthday."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+MISSING.
+
+
+There was commotion next morning at Trennach, especially about the
+region of the Bare Plain and the cottages in Bleak Row. Josiah Bell
+had disappeared. Mrs. Bell had sat up half the night waiting for him;
+then, concluding he had taken too much liquor to be able to find his
+way home, and had either stayed at the Golden Shaft or found refuge
+with Andrew Float, she went to bed. Upon making inquiries this
+morning, this proved not to be the case. Nothing seemed to be known of
+Josiah Bell. His comrades professed ignorance as to his movements: the
+Golden Shaft had not taken him in; neither had Andrew Float.
+
+Mrs. Bell rose early. People in a state of exasperation, lose sight of
+physical weakness: and this exactly expresses Dame Bell's state of
+mind. It was of course necessary that she should be up, in order to
+give Bell a proper lecture when he should make his appearance. Whilst
+dressing, she saw Nancy Tomson's husband outside, apparently starting
+for Trennach. Throwing a warm shawl over her shoulders, she opened the
+window.
+
+"Tomson!" she called out. "Tomson!"
+
+The man heard and looked up, his face leaden and his eyes red and
+inflamed. Last night's potations were not yet slept off.
+
+"What was the reason my husband did not come home?"
+
+Tomson took a few moments to digest the question. Apparently his
+recollection on the point did not quickly serve him.
+
+"I doan't know," said he. "Didn't Bell come hoam?"
+
+"No, he didn't."
+
+"Baan't he come hoam?"
+
+"No, he has not come. And I think it was a very unfriendly thing of
+the rest of you not to bring him. You had to come yourselves. Did you
+leave him at the Golden Shaft?"
+
+"Bell warn't at tha Golden Shaaft," said Tomson.
+
+"Now don't you tell me any of your untruths, Ben Tomson," returned the
+dame. "Not at the Golden Shaft! Where else was he?"
+
+"I'll take my davy Bell were not weth us at tha Golden Shaaft last
+evening!" said the man. "He cleared out at dusk."
+
+"But he went back to it later."
+
+"He never did--not as I saw," persisted Tomson; who was always
+obstinate in maintaining his own opinion.
+
+"Was Andrew Float there?" asked Mrs. Bell.
+
+"Andrew Float? Yes, Float was there."
+
+"Then I know Bell was there too. And don't you talk any more nonsense
+about it, Ben Tomson. Bell was too bad to get home by himself, and
+none of you chose to help him home; perhaps you were too bad
+yourselves to do it. And there he has stayed till now; either at the
+Golden Shaft, or with Float the miner: and you'd very much oblige me,
+Tomson, if you'd hunt him up."
+
+She shut the casement, watched Tomson start on his way to Trennach,
+and, presently, went down to breakfast. Rosaline was getting it ready
+as usual, looking more dead than alive.
+
+"We'll wait a bit, Rose, to see whether your father comes. Don't put
+the tea in yet."
+
+Rose was kneeling before the fire at the moment. She turned at the
+words, a wild look in her eyes, and seemed about to say something; but
+checked herself.
+
+Half-an-hour passed: Dame Bell growing more angry each minute, and
+rehearsing a sharper reception for Bell in her mind. At last they sat
+down to breakfast. Rose could not eat; she seemed ill: but her mother,
+taken up with the ill-doings of the truant, did not observe her as
+much as she would otherwise have done. Breakfast was at an end,
+although Mrs. Bell had lingered over it, when Tomson returned; and
+with him appeared the tall ungainly form of Float the miner.
+
+"Well?" cried the dame, rising briskly from her chair in expectation,
+as Tomson raised the latch of the door.
+
+"Well, 'tis as I said," said Tomson. "Bell didn't come back to the
+Golden Shaaft last night after he cleared out just afore dark. He
+ain't nowheres about as we can see."
+
+Mrs. Bell looked from one to the other: at Tomson's rather sullen
+countenance, at Float's good-natured one. She might have thought the
+men were deceiving her, but she could see no motive for their doing
+so. Unless, indeed, Bell was lying somewhere in Trennach, so ill after
+his bout that they did not like to tell her.
+
+"Where is he, then, I should like to know?" she retorted, in reply to
+Tomson.
+
+"Caan't tell," said Tomson. "None o' they men heve seen him."
+
+"Now this won't do," cried Dame Bell. "You must know where he is. Do
+you suppose he's lost? Don't stand simpering there on one leg, Andrew
+Float, but just tell me where he is hiding."
+
+"I'd tell ye if I knew, ma'am," said Andrew, in his meek way. "I'd
+like to know where he is myself."
+
+"But he was at the Golden Shaft last night: he must have been there,"
+insisted the dame, unable to divest herself of this opinion. "What
+became of him when the place shut up? What state was he in?"
+
+"No, ma'am, he was not there," said Andrew, mildly, for he never liked
+contradicting.
+
+"Stuff!" said Mrs. Bell. "There was nowhere else for him to go to.
+What did you do with him, Andrew Float?"
+
+"I heve done naught with him," rejoined Andrew. "He kep' I and they
+t'other soes awaiting all the evening for him at the Golden Shaft;
+but he didn't come back to't."
+
+"I know he was at the Golden Shaft pretty nigh all yesterday,"
+retorted Mrs. Bell, angrily.
+
+"He were," acknowledged Andrew. "He come back after his dinner, and
+stayed there along o' the rest of us: but he was pewerly silent and
+glum; we couldna get a word from him. Just as they were a-lighting up,
+Bell he gets off the settle, and puts on his hat; and when we asked
+where he was going, he said to do his work. Upon that, one o' they
+sees--old Perkins, I think it were--wanted to know what work; but Bell
+wouldn't answer him. He'd be back by-and-by, he said; and went out."
+
+"And he did not go back again?" reiterated Dame Bell.
+
+"No, ma'am, he didn't. Though we aal stayed a bit later than usual on
+the strength of expecting him."
+
+"It's very strange," said she. "He came home here about seven o'clock,
+or between that and half-past--I can't be sure as to the exact time. I
+thought he had come for good; he was three-parts tipsy then, and I
+advised him to sit down and make himself comfortable. Not a bit would
+he heed. After standing a minute or so, twirling his stick about, and
+asking where Rosaline was, and this and the other, he suddenly pushes
+his hat down over his eyes, and out he goes in a passion--as I could
+tell by his banging the door. Of course he was going back to the
+Golden Shaft. There can't be a doubt of it."
+
+"He never came to the Golden Shaft, ma'am," said Float.
+
+"I say," cried Tomson at this juncture, "what's amiss with Rosaline?"
+
+During the above conversation, Rosaline had stood at the dresser,
+wiping the plates one by one, and keeping her back to the company, so
+that they did not see her face. But it chanced that Tomson went to the
+fire to light his pipe, just as Rosaline's work came to an end. As she
+crossed the kitchen to the staircase, Tomson met her and had full view
+of her. The man stared after her in surprise: even when she had
+disappeared up the stairs and shut the door behind her, he still stood
+staring; for he had never seen in all his life a face to equal it for
+terror. It was then that he put his question to Mrs. Bell.
+
+"Didn't your wife tell you what it was that frightened her, Ben
+Tomson?" was the dame's query.
+
+"My wife have said ne'er a word to me since yesterday dinnertime,
+save to call me a vool," confessed Tomson. "Her temper be up. Rosaline
+do look bad, though!"
+
+"She heard the Seven Whistlers last night," explained Mrs. Bell. "It
+did fright her a'most to death.
+
+"What!--they Whistlers here again laast night?" cried Tomson, his eyes
+opening with consternation.
+
+Dame Bell nodded. "Your wife and me were sitting here, Ben Tomson,
+waiting for Rosaline to come in, and wondering why Granny Sandon kept
+her so late. I opened the door to see if I could see her coming across
+the Plain--or Bell, either, for the matter o' that--and there she was,
+leaning again' the wall outside with terror. We got her indoors, me
+and Nancy Tomson, and for some time could make nothing of her; she was
+too frighted to speak. At last she told us she had heard the Seven
+Whistlers as she was coming over the Plain."
+
+But now this statement of Mrs. Bell's unconsciously deviated from the
+strict line of truth. Rosaline had not "told" them that she heard the
+Seven Whistlers on the Plain. When her mother suddenly accused her of
+having heard the Whistlers, and was backed in the suggestion by Nancy
+Tomson, poor Rosaline nodded an affirmative, but she gave it in sheer
+despair. She could not avow what had really frightened her; and the
+Seven Whistlers--which she had certainly _not_ heard--served
+excellently for an excuse. The two women of course adopted the
+explanation religiously, and they had no objection to talk about it.
+
+"They Whistlers again!" resumed Tomson, in dismay. "Ross, he's raging
+just like a bear this morning, threatening us weth law and what not;
+but he _caan't_ expect us to go down and risk our lives while they
+boding Whistlers be glinting about."
+
+"There, never mind they Whistlers," broke in Mrs. Bell, who sometimes
+fell into the native dialect. "Where's Bell got to? that's what I want
+to know."
+
+Of course Tomson could not say. Neither could Float. The latter made
+the most sensible suggestion the circumstances admitted of--namely,
+that they should go and search for him. Mrs. Bell urged them to do so
+at once and to make haste about it. Bell would be found in Trennach
+fast enough, she said. As he had not taken refuge in Float's the
+miner's house, he had taken it in somebody else's, and was staying
+there till he grew sober.
+
+On this day, Wednesday, Trennach was again taking holiday, and laying
+the blame on the Seven Whistlers. But this state of things could not
+last. The men knew that; and they now promised the overseer, Ross,
+whose rage had reached a culminating point, that the morrow should see
+them at work. One wise old miner avowed an opinion that three days
+would be enough to "break the spell o' they Whistlers and avert evil."
+
+So the village street was filled with idlers, who really, apart from
+smoking and drinking, had nothing to do with themselves. It was a
+little early yet for the Golden Shaft: and when Andrew Float and
+Tomson arrived amongst them with the account that Josiah Bell had not
+been seen since the previous evening or been home all night, and that
+his wife (or as Tomson phrased it in the local vernacular, his woman)
+couldn't think where he had got to and had put a rod in pickle for
+him: the men listened. With one accord, they agreed to go and look for
+Bell: and they set about it heartily, for it gave them something to
+do.
+
+But Josiah Bell could not be found. The miners' dwellings were
+searched, perhaps without a single exception, but he had not taken
+refuge in any one of them. Since quitting the Golden Shaft the
+previous evening at dusk, as testified to by the men who were there,
+only two persons, apart from his wife, could remember to have seen
+him: Blase Pellet, and the Rector of Trennach, the Reverend Thomas
+Pine. Mr. Pellet, standing at his shop-door for recreation at the
+twilight hour, had seen Bell pass down the street on his way from the
+inn, and noticed that he was tolerably far gone in liquor. The
+clergyman had seen and spoken to Bell a very few minutes later.
+
+Chancing to meet the men on their search this morning, Mr. Pine learnt
+that Josiah Bell was missing. The clergyman always made himself at
+home with the men, whether they belonged to his flock or were
+Wesleyans. He never attempted to interfere in the slightest degree
+with their form of worship, but he constantly strove by friendly
+persuasion to lead them away from evil. The Wesleyan minister was
+obliged to him for it: he himself was lame, and could not be so active
+as he would have liked. Mr. Pine did much good, no doubt: but this
+last affair of the Whistlers, and the consequent idleness, had been
+too strong for him. Latterly Mr. Pine had also been in very
+indifferent health; the result of many years' hard work, and no
+holiday. Dr. Raynor had now told him that an entire rest of some
+months had become essential to him; without it he would inevitably
+break down. He was a tall, thin, middle-aged man with a worn face.
+Particularly worn, it looked, as he stood talking to the group of
+miners this morning.
+
+"I saw Bell last evening myself," observed Mr. Pine. "And I was very
+sorry to see him as I did, for he could hardly walk straight. I was
+coming off the Plain and met him there. He had halted, and was gazing
+about, as if looking for some one: or, perhaps, in doubt--as it struck
+me--whether he should go on home, or, return whence he had come; which
+I supposed was from that favourite resort of yours, my men, the Golden
+Shaft. 'Better go straight home, Bell,' I said to him. 'I'm going that
+way, sir,' he answered. And he did go that way: for I watched him well
+on to the Plain."
+
+"Well, we caan't find him nohow, sir," observed Andrew Float. "What
+time might that have been, sir, please?"
+
+"Time? Something past seven. I should think it likely that Bell lay
+down somewhere to sleep the liquor off," added the clergyman,
+preparing to continue his way. "It is not often Bell exceeds as he did
+yesterday, and therefore it would take more effect upon him." The
+Bells, it may as well be remarked, were church people.
+
+"Most likely he have faaled down, as tha paarson says; but he's a vool
+for lying there still," observed the men amongst themselves, as they
+turned off to pursue the search. Frank Raynor was out on his round
+this morning, as usual, and paid a visit to Molly Janes, whom he found
+going on satisfactorily. In passing Mrs. Bell's window, he saw
+Rosaline: hesitated, and then lifted the latch and went in. He stayed
+a minute or two talking with her alone, the mother being upstairs: and
+left her with the one word emphatically repeated: "Remember."
+
+When Tomson went home to his midday meal, he opened Mrs. Bell's door
+to inform her that there were no tidings of her husband. Dame Bell
+received the information with incredulity. Much they had searched! she
+observed to her daughter, as Tomson disappeared: they had just sat
+themselves down again at the Golden Shaft; that was what they had
+done. Which accusation was this time a libel. She resolved to go and
+look after him herself when she had eaten her dinner. As to Rosaline,
+she did not know what to make of her. The girl looked frightfully ill,
+did not speak, and every now and then was seized with a fit of
+trembling.
+
+"Such nonsense, child, to let the Whistlers frighten you into this
+state!" cried Mrs. Bell, tartly.
+
+Retiring to her room after dinner, she came down by-and-by with her
+things on. Rosaline looked surprised.
+
+"Where are you going, mother?"
+
+"Into Trennach," said Dame Bell. "There's an old saying, 'If you want
+a thing done, do it yourself.' I shall find your father, I'll be
+bound, if he is to be found anywhere."
+
+"You will be so tired, mother."
+
+"Tired! Nonsense. Mind you have tea ready, Rosaline. I shall be sure
+to bring him back with me; I'm not going to stand any nonsense: and
+you might make a nice bit of buttered toast; he's fond of it, you
+know."
+
+Stepping briskly across the Plain, Mrs. Bell went onwards. Nothing
+induces activity like a little access of temper, and she was boiling
+over with indignation at her husband. The illness from which she was
+suffering did not deprive her of exertion: and in truth it was not a
+serious illness as yet, though it might become so. Symptoms of a slow,
+inward complaint were manifesting themselves, and Dr. Raynor was doing
+his best to subdue them. Privately he feared the result; but Dame Bell
+did not suspect that yet.
+
+Dr. Raynor and his nephew stood in the surgery after their midday
+dinner, the doctor with his back to the fire, Frank handing some
+prepared medicines, for delivery, to the boy who waited for them. As
+the latter went out with his basket, Blase Pellet ran across the road
+and came in, apron on, but minus his hat.
+
+"Could you oblige us with a small quantity of one or two drugs, sir?"
+he asked of Dr. Raynor: mentioning those required. "We are out of
+them, and our traveller won't call before next week. Mr. Float's
+respects, sir, and he'll be much obliged if you can do it."
+
+"I dare say we can," replied Dr. Raynor. "Just see, Frank, will you?"
+
+As Frank was looking out the drugs, Mr. Pine came in. He was rather
+fond of running in for a chat with the doctor and Frank at leisure
+moments. Frank was an especial favourite of his, with his unaffected
+goodness of heart and his genial nature.
+
+"A fine state of things, is it not!" cried the clergyman, alluding to
+the idlers in the streets. "Three days of it, we have had now."
+
+"They will be at work to-morrow, I hear," said the doctor.
+
+"Has Bell turned up yet?"
+
+"No. The men have just told me they don't know where to look for him.
+They have searched everywhere. It seems strange where he can have got
+to."
+
+Blase Pellet, standing before the table, waiting for the drugs, caught
+Frank's eye as the last words were spoken. A meaning look shot out
+from Pellet, and Frank Raynor's gaze fell as he met it. It plainly
+said, "_You_ know where he is:" or it seemed so to Frank's guilty
+conscience.
+
+"The fellow must have seen all!" thought Frank. "What on earth will
+come of it?"
+
+Some one pushed back the half-open door, and stepped in with a quick
+gait and rather a sharp tongue: sharp, at least, this afternoon. Dame
+Bell: in her Sunday Paisley shawl, and green strings to her bonnet.
+
+"If you please, Dr. Raynor--I beg pardon, gentlefolk"--catching sight
+of the clergyman--"if you please, doctor, could you give me some
+little thing to quiet Rosaline's nerves. She heard the Seven Whistlers
+last night, and they have frightened her out of her senses."
+
+"Heard the Seven Whistlers!" repeated the clergyman, a hearty smile
+crossing his face.
+
+"She did, sir. And pretty nearly died of it. I'm sure last night I
+thought she would have died. I'd never have supposed Rosaline could be
+so foolish. But there; it is so; and to-day she's just like one dazed.
+Not an atom of colour in her face; cowed down so as hardly to be able
+to put one foot before the other; and every other minute has a fit of
+the shivers."
+
+To hear this astounding account of the hitherto gay, light-hearted,
+and self-contained Rosaline Bell, surprised the surgery not a little.
+Dr. Raynor naturally asked for further particulars; and Dame Bell
+plunged into the history of the previous night, and went through with
+it.
+
+"Yes, gentlefolk, those were her very words--almost all we could get
+out of her: 'Father heard them and they boded death.' I----"
+
+"But you should have tried to reason her out of such nonsense,"
+interrupted Dr. Raynor.
+
+"_Me_ tried!" retorted Dame Bell, resenting the words. "Why, sir, it
+is what I did do. Me and Nancy Tomson both tried our best; but all she
+answered was just what I now tell you: 'Father heard the Whistlers,
+and they boded death.'"
+
+Mr. Blase Pellet, standing with the small packet of drugs in his hand,
+ready to depart, but apparently unable to tear himself away, glanced
+up at Frank with the last words, and again momentarily met his eye. A
+slight shivering passed through Frank--caught perhaps from hearing of
+Rosaline's shiverings--and he bent his face over a deep drawer, where
+it could not be seen; as if searching for something missing.
+
+"Well, it is a pity Rosaline should suffer herself to be alarmed by
+anything of the sort," observed Dr. Raynor; "but I will send her a
+composing draught. Are you going home now, Mrs. Bell?"
+
+"As soon as I can find my husband, sir. I've come in to look for him.
+Tomson wanted to persuade me that he and Andrew Float and a lot more
+of them had been hunting for him all the morning; but I know better.
+Bell is inside one of their houses, sleeping off the effects of
+drink."
+
+"The men have just told me they can't find him," said the clergyman.
+"I know they have been searching."
+
+"There's an old saying, sir, 'If you want a thing well done, do it
+yourself.' I repeated it to Rose before I came out. Fine searching,
+I've no doubt it has been!--the best part of it inside the Golden
+Shaft. I'm going to look him up myself--and if you please, Dr. Raynor,
+I'll make bold to call in, as I go back, for the physic for Rosaline."
+
+Unbelieving Mrs. Bell departed. Blase Pellet followed her. Dr. Raynor
+told Frank what to make up for Rosaline, and then he himself went out
+with Mr. Pine.
+
+A few minutes afterwards, Edina softly opened the surgery-door, and
+glanced in. She generally came cautiously, not knowing whether
+patients might be in it or not. But there was only Frank. And Frank
+had his arms on the desk, and his head resting on them. The attitude
+certainly told of despondency, and Edina stood in astonishment: it was
+so unlike the gay-hearted young man.
+
+"Why, Frank! What is the matter?"
+
+He started up, and stared, bewildered, at Edina: as if his thoughts
+had been far away, and he could not in a moment bring them back again.
+Edina saw the trouble in his unguarded face, but he smoothed it away
+instantly.
+
+"You have not seemed yourself since last night, Frank," said she in
+low tones, as she advanced further into the room. "Something or other
+has happened, I am sure. Is it anything that I can set right?--or help
+you in?"
+
+"Now, Edina, don't run away with fancies," rejoined he, as gaily as
+though he had not a care in the world. "There's nothing at all the
+matter with me. I suppose I had dropped asleep over the physic. One
+does not stay out raking till three o'clock in the morning every day,
+you know."
+
+"You cannot deceive me, Frank," rejoined Edina, her true, thoughtful
+eyes fixed earnestly upon him. "I--I cannot help fancying that it is
+in some way connected with Rosaline Bell," she added, lowering her
+voice. "I hope you are not getting into any entanglement: falling in
+love with her; or anything of that sort?"
+
+"Not a bit of it," readily answered Frank.
+
+"Well, Frank, if I can do anything to aid you in any way, you have
+only to ask me; you know that," concluded Edina, perceiving he was not
+inclined to speak out. "Always remember this, Frank: that in any
+trouble or perplexity, the best course is to look it straight in the
+face, freely and fully. Doing so takes away half its sting."
+
+Meanwhile Dame Bell was pursuing her search. But she found that she
+could not do more than the miners had done towards discovering her
+husband. Into this house, out of that one, inquiring here, seeking
+there, went she, but all to no purpose. She was not uneasy, only
+exasperated: and she gave Mr. Blase Pellet a sharp reprimand upon his
+venturing to hint that there might exist cause for uneasiness.
+
+The reprimand occurred as she was returning towards home. After her
+unsuccessful search, she was walking back down the street of Trennach
+in a state of much inward wonder as to where Bell could be hiding, and
+had nearly reached Dr. Raynor's, when she saw Float the druggist
+standing at his shop-door, and crossed over to enlarge upon the
+mystery to him. Mr. Blase Pellet came forward, as a matter of course,
+from his place behind the book-counter to assist at the conference.
+
+"Bell is safe to turn up soon," remarked the druggist, who was a
+peaceable man, after listening to Mrs. Bell for a few minutes in
+silence.
+
+"Turn up! of course he will turn up," replied the dame. "What's to
+hinder it? And he will have such a dressing from me that I don't think
+he'll be for hiding himself again in a hurry."
+
+Upon that, Blase Pellet, partially sheltered behind the burly form of
+the druggist, spoke.
+
+"Suppose he never does turn up? Suppose he is dead?--or something of
+that kind."
+
+The suggestion angered Mrs. Bell.
+
+"Are you a heathen, Blase Pellet, to invent such a thought as that?"
+she demanded in wrath. "What do you suppose Bell's likely to die
+from?--and where?"
+
+Leaving Mr. Pellet to repent of his rashness, she marched over to Dr.
+Raynor's for the composing draught promised for Rosaline. And when
+Mrs. Bell went home with it she fully expected that by that time the
+truant would have made his appearance there.
+
+But he had not done so. Rosaline had prepared the tea and toast,
+according to orders, but no Bell was there to partake of it. Nancy
+Tomson shared it instead. All the rest of the evening Dame Bell was
+looking out for him; and exchanging suggestions with her neighbours,
+who kept dropping in. Rosaline scarcely spoke: not at all unless she
+was spoken to. The same cold, white hue sat on her face, the same
+involuntary shiver at times momentarily shook her frame. The gossips
+gazed at her curiously--as a specimen of the fright those dreaded
+Whistlers had power to inflict.
+
+They sat up again half the night, waiting for Bell, but waiting in
+vain; and then they went to rest. Mrs. Bell did not sleep as well as
+usual: she was disturbed with doubts as to where he could be, and by
+repeated fancyings that she heard his step outside. Once she got up,
+opened the casement, and looked out; but there was nothing to be seen;
+nothing except the great Bare Plain lying bleak and silent in the
+silver moonlight.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+DINING AT THE MOUNT.
+
+
+When another day dawned upon Trennach, and still Josiah Bell had not
+returned, his wife's exasperation gave place to real anxiety. She
+could not even guess what had become of him, or where he could be.
+Suspicion was unable to turn upon any particular quarter; not a shadow
+of foundation appeared for it anywhere. Had the man taken refuge in
+one of the miners' houses, as she had supposed, there he would still
+be; but there he was not. Had he stretched himself on the Bare Plain
+to sleep off the stupidity arising from drinking, as suggested by Mr.
+Pine, there he would have been found. No: the miners' dwellings and
+the Plain were alike guiltless of harbouring him; and Mrs. Bell was
+puzzled nearly out of her wits.
+
+It cannot be said that as yet fear of any fatal accident or issue
+assailed her. The mystery as to where her husband could be was a great
+mystery, at present utterly unaccountable; but she never supposed that
+it would not be solved by his reappearance sooner or later. And she
+would have been quite ready to put down any hint of the kind, as she
+had put down Mr. Pellet's hint the previous day. Mrs. Bell fully
+believed that this day would not pass without bringing him home: and
+she was up with the lark, and down before Rosaline, in anticipation of
+it.
+
+The miners had returned to their work this morning, and to their usual
+habits of sobriety: all things were quiet out of doors. The world was
+going on in its old groove; just as though, but for the absence of
+Bell, no ill-omened flock of Whistlers had come to raise a commotion
+in it.
+
+This had been another night of sleeplessness for Rosaline, another
+prolonged interval of remorse and terror. She had undressed the
+previous night, and got into bed; and there she lay until morning,
+living through her fits of despondency, and striving to plan out the
+future. To stay at Trennach would, she felt, be simply impossible; if
+she did, she should die of it; she firmly believed that only to pass
+the Bottomless Shaft again, and look at it, would kill her. Discovery
+must come, she supposed, sooner or later; but she dared not stay in
+the place to face it.
+
+Mrs. Bell was a native of Warwickshire. Her sister had married a
+Cornish man, who kept a shop in Falmouth. His name was John Pellet,
+and he was cousin to Blase Pellet's father. So that in point of fact
+there was no relationship between the Bells and Blase, although Blase
+enlarged upon their "cousinship," and Rosaline admitted it. They were
+merely connections. Mrs. Pellet had a small business as a milliner:
+she had no children, and could well attend to it. She and her husband,
+what with his trade and her work, were very comfortably off. She was
+fond of Rosaline, and frequently had her at Falmouth. It was to this
+refuge that Rosaline's thoughts now turned. She determined to go to it
+without delay. But so many neighbours came in during breakfast,
+inquiring after Bell, that she found no opportunity to speak of it
+then.
+
+"Mother," she said, coming into the kitchen after attending to the
+upstairs rooms, Mrs. Bell having this morning undertaken to put away
+the breakfast-things: "mother, I think I shall go to Falmouth.
+
+"Go where?" cried Dame Bell, in surprise.
+
+"To Aunt Pellet's."
+
+"Why, what on earth has put that into your head, Rose?" demanded Mrs.
+Bell, after a prolonged pause of amazement.
+
+Rosaline did not answer immediately. She had caught up the brass
+ladle, that chanced to lie on the table, and a piece of wash-leather
+from the knife-box, and was rubbing away at the ladle.
+
+"Aunt will be glad to see me, mother. She always is."
+
+"Glad to see you? What of that? Why do you want to go just now? And
+what are you polishing up that ladle for?" went on Mrs. Bell, uniting
+the grievances. "The brasses and tins had a regular cleaning last
+Saturday, for I gave it 'em myself."
+
+Again Rosaline did not speak. As Mrs. Bell glanced at her, waiting for
+some rejoinder, she was struck with the girl's extreme pallor, her
+look of utter misery. Rosaline burst into tears.
+
+"Oh, mother, don't hinder me!" she cried imploringly, dropping the
+ladle, and raising her hands in supplication. "I _can't_ stay here. I
+must go away."
+
+"You are afraid of hearing the Seven Whistlers again!"
+
+"Let me go, mother; let me go!" piteously sobbed Rosaline. And her
+mother thought she had never seen any one in so deplorable a state of
+agitation before.
+
+"Well, well, child, we'll see," said the dame, too much concerned to
+oppose her. "I wish the Whistlers had been somewhere. It is most
+unreasonable to let them take hold of your nerves in this way. A bit
+of an absence will put you all right again, and drive the thought out
+of your head. You shall go for a week, child, as soon as your father
+comes home."
+
+"I must go to-day," said Rosaline.
+
+"To-day!"
+
+"Don't keep me, mother," besought Rosaline. "You don't know what it is
+for me here. These past two nights! have never closed my eyes; no, not
+for a moment. Let me start at once, mother! Oh, let me go! I shall
+have brain-fever if I remain."
+
+"Well, I never!" cried Mrs. Bell, other words failing her to express
+her astonishment. "I never did think you could have put yourself into
+this unseemly fantigue, child; no, not for all the Whistlers in the
+air. As to starting off to Falmouth to-day, why, you could not have
+your things ready."
+
+"They can be ready in half-an-hour," returned Rosaline, eagerly, her
+lips feverish with excitement. "I have already put them together."
+
+"Well, I'm sure!--taking French leave, in that way, before you knew
+whether you might go or not! There, there; don't begin to cry and
+shake again. There's an afternoon train. And--and perhaps your father
+will be in before that."
+
+"It is the best train I could go by," said Rosaline, turning to hang
+up the ladle on its hook by the dresser.
+
+"It's not the best; it's the worst," contradicted Dame Bell. "Not but
+what it may be as well if you do go. I'm ashamed of the neighbours
+seeing you can be so silly and superstitious. The train does not get
+into Falmouth till night-time."
+
+"Oh yes, it does," said Rosaline, anxiously: "it gets in quite early
+enough. Why, mother, I shall be at Aunt Pellet's soon after dark." And
+she crossed the kitchen with a quicker step than had been seen since
+that past miserable Tuesday night, and opened the staircase-door.
+
+"And suppose your father does _not_ come home first?" debated Mrs.
+Bell, not quite pleased with the tacit leave she had given. "How will
+you reconcile yourself to going away in the uncertainty, Rose?"
+
+Rose did not answer. She only ran up the stairs, shutting the door
+behind her. "What in the world does ail the child?" exclaimed Dame
+Bell, considerably put out. "It's my belief the fright has turned her
+head. Until now she has always laughed at such things."
+
+But Mrs. Bell made no further opposition to the journey. A discerning
+woman in most kinds of illness, she recognized the fact that change of
+some sort might be necessary for Rosaline. Still Bell did not return,
+and still the day went on.
+
+In the afternoon Rosaline was ready to start, with a bandbox and
+handbag. Nancy Tomson had volunteered to accompany her to the station.
+
+"I might perhaps have managed the walk to the train; I don't know;
+it's a goodish step there and back," said Dame Bell, as Rosaline stood
+before her, to say good-bye. "But you see, child, I want to wait in
+for your father. I shouldn't like him to find an empty house on his
+return."
+
+Rosaline burst into a fit of sobbing, and laid hold of her mother as
+if seeking protection from some visible terror. And once again Mrs.
+Bell was puzzled, and could not make her out at all.
+
+"Oh, mother dear, take care of yourself! And forgive me for all the
+ill I have ever done. Forgive, forgive me!"
+
+"Goodness bless me, child, there's nothing to forgive that I know of!"
+testily cried Dame Bell, not accustomed to this sort of sensational
+leave-taking. "I shall take care of myself; never fear. Mind you take
+care of _your_self, Rose: those steam railways are risky things to
+travel by: and give my love to your aunt and my respects to Pellet."
+
+"And we hed better be going," put in Nancy Tomson, who had put on her
+Sunday cloak and bonnet for the occasion. "They trains don't wait for
+nobody."
+
+They were in ample time for this one: perhaps Rosaline had taken care
+of that: arriving, in fact, twenty minutes too soon. Rosaline entered
+it when it came up, and was steamed away.
+
+In returning, Nancy Tomson saw Frank Raynor. He was on horseback;
+riding along very leisurely.
+
+"Good-day," said he, nodding to her in passing. "Been out
+gallivanting?" he added in his light way.
+
+"I heve been a-seeing Rosaline Bell off by one o' they trains, sir,"
+answered the woman. And Frank checked his horse as he heard it and sat
+as still as a statue.
+
+"Where has she gone to?"
+
+"Off on a maggot to Falmouth. They Whistlers went and give her a prime
+fright, sir: she heve hardly done shaking yet, and looks as gashly as
+you please. She heve gone to her aunt's to forget it."
+
+"Oh, to be sure," carelessly assented Frank: and rode on.
+
+A few minutes afterwards, when near Trennach, he met Mrs. St. Clare's
+carriage; herself, two ladies, and Lydia seated within it. The
+coachman pulled up by orders. Of course Frank had to do the same.
+
+"Have you been to The Mount, Mr. Raynor?"
+
+"No, I have been across to Pendon," he answered, keeping his hat off;
+and the breeze took advantage of that to stir the waves of his bright
+hair.
+
+"This makes two days that we have seen nothing of you," said Mrs. St.
+Clare. "You have not been near us since Tuesday night."
+
+A faint flush passed over his face. He murmured something about having
+been very busy himself--concluded they were occupied: but he spoke
+rather confusedly, not at all with the usual ready manner of Frank
+Raynor.
+
+"Well, we shall see you this evening, Mr. Raynor. You are coming to
+dine with us."
+
+Very hastily he declined the invitation. "I cannot come, thank you,"
+he said. "I shall have patients to see, and must stay at home."
+
+"But you must come; you are to come," rejoined Mrs. St. Clare. "I have
+seen Dr. Raynor, and he has promised that you shall. Finally, Mr.
+Raynor, you will very much oblige me by doing so."
+
+What further objection could Frank make? None. He gave the required
+assent, together with a sweeping bow, as the carriage drove on.
+
+"What a bright-looking, handsome man!" exclaimed one of the ladies to
+Mrs. St. Clare. "I really do not remember, though, to have seen him
+the night of the ball, as you say I did."
+
+"Oh, he stuck himself in a corner all the night," put in Lydia. "I
+don't believe he came out of it once, or danced at all."
+
+"He is too good-looking for a doctor. I should tremble for my
+daughters' hearts."
+
+"_Being_ a doctor, there is, I hope, no cause for me to tremble for
+the hearts of mine," haughtily rejoined Mrs. St. Clare. "Not but that
+he is of fairly good family and expectations: the eldest son of Major
+Raynor and the heir to Eagles' Nest."
+
+Mrs. St. Clare, unconsciously to herself, was not altogether correct
+in this statement. But it may pass for the present.
+
+Frank rode home. Dr. Raynor was out; and he went into the parlour to
+Edina. She sat in the bow window, prosily darning stockings.
+
+"Why did Uncle Hugh promise Mrs. St. Clare that I should dine at The
+Mount to-night? Do you know, Edina?"
+
+"Because she invited you, I suppose. I saw the carriage at the door
+and papa standing at it as he talked to them. Don't you care to go?"
+
+"Not this evening--particularly."
+
+"Papa just looked in here afterwards and said would I tell you that
+you were to dine at The Mount. I thought you were fond of dining
+there, Frank."
+
+"So I am sometimes. Where is Uncle Hugh?"
+
+"He has been sent for to the parsonage. Mr. Pine is not well."
+
+
+Again Frank Raynor--and this time sorely against his will--sat at Mrs.
+St. Clare's brilliant dinner-table. He could see why she had made so
+great a point of his coming: only one gentleman was present besides
+himself. In fact, there was only Frank in all Trennach to fall back
+upon. Dr. Raynor never dined out: the Rector pleaded ill-health. Most
+of the guests who had been staying in the house had left it this
+morning after their two nights' sojourn: those remaining--General Sir
+Arthur Beauchamp, Lady and Miss Beauchamp, and a young married woman,
+Mrs. Fox--were to leave on the morrow. It fell to Frank's lot to take
+in Lady Beauchamp: she it was who had expressed doubts as to the
+stability of young ladies' hearts, if exposed to the attractions of
+Mr. Raynor. Margaret, as it chanced, sat on Frank's left hand; and
+Margaret, for the time being, was supremely happy.
+
+"Are you better than you were on Tuesday night, Mr. Raynor?" she took
+occasion to ask him in a whisper, when a buzz of conversation was
+going on.
+
+"Better? I was not----" not ill, Frank was about to respond in
+surprise, and then recollected himself. "Oh, thank you, yes, Margaret.
+I was rather out of sorts that night."
+
+"Mr. Raynor, what is this story about some man being lost?" asked Mrs.
+St. Clare, from the head of the table. "One of the miners, we hear,
+has mysteriously disappeared and cannot be found."
+
+Frank's face flushed hotly, and he would have given the world to avoid
+the subject. But he could not: and he related the particulars.
+
+"But where is it supposed that he can be, this Josiah Bell?" asked the
+general. "Where should _you_ think he is, Mr. Raynor?"
+
+Perhaps no one at the table, with the exception of Margaret, noticed
+that the young surgeon was somewhat agitated by the topic: that his
+breath seemed a little laboured as he answered the repeated questions,
+and that his complexion changed from red to pale. Margaret silently
+wondered why the disappearance of a miner should so affect him.
+
+"Are there any old pits, used out and abandoned, that the man could
+have fallen into?" asked the sensible general.
+
+A strangely-vivid flush now on Frank Raynor's face. A marked
+hesitation in his voice, as he replied.
+
+"Not--not any--that are easy of access, I fancy, Sir Arthur."
+
+"Well, the man must be somewhere, dead or alive. You say it is not at
+all thought that he would run away."
+
+"Oh no; his friends say he would not be likely to do that."
+
+"He has a very beautiful daughter, has he not?" spoke Lydia to Frank,
+from the opposite side of the table.
+
+"Yes, she is nice-looking."
+
+"Nice-looking is not the word for it, Mr. Raynor--as we are told,"
+persisted Lydia. "We hear she is strictly, faultlessly beautiful.
+Fancy that, for the daughter of a common miner!"
+
+Miss St. Clare's tone seemed to savour of mockery--as her tones often
+did. Frank, straightforward and true-hearted to the core, answered
+rather warmly.
+
+"The man has come down in life; he was not always a common miner: and
+Rosaline is superior in all ways to her station. She _is_ very
+beautiful."
+
+"You seem to know her well."
+
+"Oh, very well," carelessly replied Frank.
+
+"We should not have been likely to hear of the affair at all: of the
+man's disappearance, or that he had a daughter who was celebrated for
+her looks; but for mamma's maid," said Lydia, more slightingly; for in
+truth she considered it a condescension even to speak of such people.
+"Tabitha has relatives in Trennach: she paid them a visit this
+morning, heard the news about the missing man, and entertained us with
+it on her return."
+
+"I should like to see this Rosaline," spoke Lady Beauchamp. "I am a
+passionate admirer of beauty. You do, by some rare chance, now and
+again, find it wonderfully developed in a girl of the lower orders."
+
+"Well, it is to be hoped the poor man will be found all right,"
+concluded Sir Arthur.
+
+And, with that, the conversation turned to some other topic--to
+Frank's intense relief. But Margaret St. Clare still marvelled at the
+interest he had betrayed: and she was fated to remember it, to her
+cost, in the time to come.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+EDINA'S ROMANCE.
+
+
+In the days gone by there were three of the brothers Raynor: Francis,
+Henry, and Hugh. Francis entered the army; Henry the church; and Hugh
+the medical profession. With the two former we have at present nothing
+to do. Hugh Raynor passed his examinations satisfactorily, and took
+all his degrees--thus becoming Dr. Raynor. Chance and fortune favoured
+him. He was at once taken by the hand by an old doctor who had an
+excellent practice in Mayfair, and became his assistant and frequent
+companion. The old doctor had one only child, a daughter, who was just
+as much taken with Hugh (and he with her) as was her father. They were
+married; and on the death of the old doctor shortly afterwards, Dr.
+Raynor succeeded to a good deal of the practice. He was quite a young
+man still, thoroughly well intentioned, but not so prudent as he might
+have been. He and his wife lived rather extravagantly, and the doctor
+sometimes found himself short of ready-money. They resided in the
+house that had been the old doctor's; and they heedlessly, and perhaps
+unconsciously, made the mistake of beginning where he had left off:
+that is, they continued their housekeeping on the same scale as his:
+maintained the same expenses, horses, carriages and entertainments.
+The result was, that Dr. Raynor in the course of four or five years
+found himself considerably involved. In an evil moment, thinking to
+make money by which to retrieve his fortunes, he embarked his name
+(and as much money as he could scrape together) in one of the bubble
+schemes of the day. A scheme which--according to its prospectus, its
+promoters' assertions, and the credulous doctor's own belief--was
+certain to realize an immense fortune in no time.
+
+Instead of that, it realized poverty and ruin. The scheme failed--the
+usual result--and Dr. Raynor found himself responsible for more money
+than he would ever make in this world. Misfortunes, it has been too
+often said, do not come singly: Dr. Raynor proved an example of it.
+Just before the bubble burst, he lost his wife; and the only one
+element of comfort that came to him in the midst of his bitter grief
+for her, was to know that she died before the other blow fell.
+
+A frightful blow it was, almost prostrating Dr. Raynor. The creditors
+of the ruthless company took all from him: even to the gold watch upon
+his person. They sold up his furniture, his books, his carriages and
+horses, everything; and they told him he might thank their leniency
+that they did not imprison him until he could pay up the scores of
+thousands they made out he was responsible for. The fact was, the
+promoters of the company, and those of its directors who possessed
+funds, had gone over to the Continent; and there remained only the
+poor doctor, innocent and honourable, to come upon.
+
+Turned out of house and home, his name in the papers, his prospects
+gone, Dr. Raynor felt he should be glad to die. He did not even
+attempt to retain his practice, which was a great mistake; his only
+care was to escape from the scene of his prosperity and hide his
+humiliated head for ever. His little child, Edina, the only one he
+had, was five years old; and for her sake he must try and keep a roof
+over his head and find bread to eat. So he looked out for employment
+after a time, as far away from London and in as obscure a corner of
+the land as might be, and obtained it amidst the collieries in North
+Warwickshire, as assistant to a general practitioner. After remaining
+there for some years, he heard of an opening at a place in Cornwall.
+The surgeon of the place, Trennach, an old man, who wanted to retire,
+chanced to know Dr. Raynor, and wrote to offer him the succession upon
+very easy terms. It was accepted, and the doctor removed to Trennach.
+The returns from the practice were very small at first, he found,
+scarcely enabling him to make way, for it lay almost entirely amongst
+the poor; but subsequently Dr. Raynor dropped into a better class of
+practice as well through the death of another surgeon some two or
+three miles from Trennach. And here, in Trennach, he remained; a sad
+and silent man ever since the misfortune of his early days; and lived
+as retired a life as might be. His only care, his constant companion,
+had been his beloved child, Edina. He had trained her to be all that a
+woman should be: true, earnest, thoughtful, good. Mrs. Pine, who had
+no children of her own, had helped him, and been to Edina almost as a
+second mother. Not many women in this world were like Edina Raynor.
+
+The only sister of the three brothers Raynor had married a London
+banker, Timothy Atkinson, the junior partner in the house of Atkinson
+and Atkinson. When Edina was two-and-twenty years of age, she went on
+a visit to her aunt in London. Mr. and Mrs. Timothy Atkinson, who had
+married rather late in life, were childless; and in these later years
+Mrs. Atkinson had become an invalid. She was also eccentric and
+capricious; and, for the first few days after her arrival, Edina
+thought she should not enjoy her visit at all. Timothy Atkinson was a
+sociable little man, but he spent all his time in the business
+downstairs--for they lived at the banking-house. His cousin, the head
+and chief, disabled by illness, rarely came to business now; it all
+lay on Timothy's shoulders. No one seemed to have any time to give to
+Edina.
+
+But soon a change came. George Atkinson, the son of the elder partner,
+found out Edina; and perhaps pitying her loneliness, or out of
+courtesy, constituted himself her cavalier. He was nine or ten years
+older than Edina: a good-looking, rather silent young man of middle
+height and grave courtesy, with a pleasant voice and thoughtful face.
+He was not strong, and there had been some talk of his having been
+ordered to travel for his health; but the death of his mother had
+intervened and prevented it. But, though a silent man to the world in
+general, he was eloquent to Edina. At least, she found him so. As
+though they had been the actual cousins that Mrs. Atkinson sometimes
+called them, he was allowed to take her everywhere. To the theatres,
+the opera, the gardens, all the shows and sights of London, Edina was
+entrusted to the care of George Atkinson. Sometimes Mrs. Atkinson was
+with them; more often she was not.
+
+And better care he could not have taken of her, or shown himself more
+solicitous for her comfort, had she been his sister or cousin.
+Honourable, instinctively kind, upright and noble, there was in George
+Atkinson a chivalrous devotion to women, that could only betray itself
+in manner and tell upon those on whom it was exercised. It told upon
+Edina. Highly educated, and possessing a fund of general information,
+he was a most agreeable companion. Before one-half of their few weeks'
+intercourse together had passed, she had learned to love George
+Atkinson with a lasting affection.
+
+Many a half-hour did he spend talking to her in low gentle accents of
+his recently dead mother. His love, his reverence, his still lively
+grief for her loss, was expressed in the truest and most tender terms.
+This alone would have taken Edina's heart by storm. She believed there
+lived not another man in the world who was so true a gentleman, so
+estimable and admirable in all respects as George Atkinson. Indeed he
+was very much so, as young men go; and neither Edina nor any other
+girl need feel anything but pride at being chosen by him.
+
+Poor Edina! It was the one great mistake of her life. Whilst George
+Atkinson had no ulterior thought of her, hope was whispering to her
+heart the possibility that they might pass their future lives
+together. And oh, what an Eden it would have been for Edina! She loved
+him with all the intensity of a pure young heart; a heart in its
+virgin freshness. Whilst he, though no doubt liking her very much
+indeed; nay, perhaps even loving her a little just in one corner of
+his heart; had no thought, no intentions beyond the present hour. He
+knew he was not strong; and he meant to see what travelling far and
+wide would do to make him so. Consequently the idea of marriage had
+not entered his head.
+
+It was only on the last day of her stay, the one previous to her
+departure for home, that the revelation came to Edina, and her eyes
+were opened all too abruptly. They were together in the drawing-room
+in the half-hour before dinner. Mr. Timothy Atkinson had not come up
+from the counting-house, his wife was in her chamber, dressing. It was
+a lovely day in late spring. Edina stood by one of the open windows,
+which had been made into a sort of small fernery. The western sunlight
+was playing upon the leaves, and touching her own smooth hair and her
+fair young face.
+
+"It is very beautiful--but I think very delicate," observed Edina,
+speaking of a new specimen of fern just planted, which they were both
+looking at. "Do you think it will live?"
+
+George Atkinson passed his fingers under the small leaf, and somehow
+they met Edina's. He did not appear to notice the momentary contact;
+_her_ pulses thrilled at it.
+
+"Oh yes, it will live and flourish," he answered. "In six months' time
+you will see what it will be."
+
+"_You_ may see," she said, smiling. "It will be a great many more
+months than six, I suppose, before I am here again. Perhaps it may be
+years."
+
+"Indeed, Edina, you are more likely to be here in six months' time
+than I am. But for my mother's death and my father's failing health, I
+should have left before this."
+
+"But you will return?" said Edina.
+
+"Some time I may do so. I cannot answer for it.
+
+"What do you mean, George?"
+
+"Not very much," he answered, with a grave and kindly smile in his
+dark grey eyes. "An idea crosses my mind now and then, that when once
+I am in those genial lands, where the skies are blue and the winds
+temperate, I shall be in no hurry to quit them again. Of course I
+don't say that I shall remain there for life; but--it might happen
+so."
+
+A pang, sharp as a two-edged sword, struck Edina. "What, and abandon
+your country for ever, and--and home ties?"
+
+"As to home ties, Edina, I shall have none then. There is only my
+father now. Of course my future movements will be regulated with
+reference to him as long as he is with us. But--I fear--that may not
+be very much longer. As you know."
+
+She made a slight movement of assent; and bent her head over the
+ferns.
+
+"And I shall not be likely to make home ties for myself," went on
+George Atkinson, unconscious of the anguish he was inflicting. "I
+shall never marry."
+
+"Why?" breathed Edina.
+
+"I scarcely know why," he replied, after a pause, as if searching for
+a reason. "I have never admitted the thought. I fancy I shall like a
+life of change and travel best. And so--when once we part, Edina--and
+that must be to-morrow, you say, though I think you might have
+remained longer--it is hard to say when we shall meet again. If ever."
+
+"Halloa, who's here? Oh, it is you, George; and Edina! Where's your
+aunt? Dinner must be nearly ready."
+
+The interruption came from brisk little Timothy Atkinson, who bounded
+into the room with quick steps and his shining bald head.
+
+As Edina turned at his entrance, George Atkinson caught the expression
+of her face; the strange sadness of its eyes, its extreme pallor. She
+looked like one who has received a shock. All at once a revelation
+broke upon him, as if from subtle instinct. For an instant he stood
+motionless, one hand pushing back his brown hair; hair that was very
+much the same shade as Edina's.
+
+"It may be better so," he said in a whisper, meeting her yearning eyes
+with his earnest gaze. "At any rate, I have thought so. Better for
+myself, better for all."
+
+The tall, portly frame of Mrs. Timothy Atkinson, clothed with rich
+crimson satin, rolled into the room, and the conversation was at an
+end. And with it, as Edina knew, her life's romance.
+
+"God bless you, Edina," George Atkinson said to her the next day, as
+he attended her to the station with Mr. Timothy, and clasped her hand
+at parting. "When I return to England in years to come--if ever I do
+return--I shall find you a blooming matron, with a husband and a flock
+of children about you. Farewell."
+
+And as Edina sat back in the swiftly-speeding railway-carriage, not
+striving, in these early moments of anguished awakening to do battle
+with her breaking heart, she knew that the blow would last her for all
+time. Dr. Raynor thought her changed when she arrived home: he
+continued to think her so as the days went on. She was more quiet,
+more subdued: sad, even, at times. He little knew the struggle that
+was going on within her, or the incessant strivings to subdue the
+recollection of the past: and from henceforth she endeavoured to make
+duty her guide.
+
+Never a word was exchanged between father and daughter upon the
+subject; but probably Dr. Raynor suspected something of the truth.
+About a year after Edina's return from London, a gentleman who lived a
+few miles from Trennach made her an offer of marriage. It would have
+been an excellent match in all respects; but she refused him. Dr.
+Raynor, perhaps feeling a little vexed for Edina's sake, asked her the
+reason of her rejection. "I shall never marry, papa," she answered,
+her cheek flushing and paling with emotion. "Please do not let us ever
+talk of such a thing; please let me stay at home with you always."
+
+Nothing more was said, then or later. No one else came forward for
+her, and the matter dwindled down into a recollection of the past.
+Edina got over the cruel blow in time, but it exercised an influence
+upon her still.
+
+And that had been Edina Raynor's romance in life, and its ending.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+ROSE-COLOURED DREAMS.
+
+
+The sweet spring sunshine lay upon Trennach, and upon Dr. Raynor's
+surgery. Francis Raynor stood in it, softly whistling. Two sovereigns
+lay on the square table, amongst the small scales and the drugs and
+the bottles, and he was looking down upon them somewhat doubtfully. He
+wanted to convey this money anonymously to a certain destination, and
+hardly knew how to accomplish it. Sovereigns were not at all plentiful
+with Frank; but he would, in his open-heartedness, have given away the
+last he possessed, and never cast regret after it.
+
+"I know!" he suddenly cried, taking up a sheet of white paper. "I'll
+pack them up in an envelope, direct it to her, stick a stamp on it,
+and get Gale the postman to deliver it on his round. Dame Bell is
+as unsuspicious as the day, and will think the money is sent by
+Rosaline--as the last was. As to Gale--he is ready to do anything for
+me and Uncle Hugh: he gets his children doctored for nothing. It's a
+shame he is so badly paid, poor fellow!"
+
+Several weeks had gone on since the disappearance of Josiah Bell, and
+it was now close upon May. Bell had never returned: nothing could be
+heard of him. Mrs. Bell knew not what to make of it: she was a
+calm-natured, unemotional woman, and she took the loss more easily
+than some wives might have taken it. Bell was missing: she could make
+neither more nor less of it than that: he might come back some time,
+and she believed he _would_ do so: meanwhile she tried to do the best
+she could without him. In losing him, she had lost the good wages he
+earned, and they had been the home's chief support. She possessed a
+very small income of her own, which she received quarterly--and this
+had enabled them to live in a better way than most of the other
+miners--but this alone was not sufficient to keep her. A managing,
+practical woman, Mrs. Bell had at once looked out for some way of
+helping herself in the dilemma, and found it. She took in two of the
+unmarried miners as lodgers--one of them being Andrew Float, and she
+began to knit worsted stockings for sale. "I shall get along somehow
+till Bell returns," was her cheerful remark to the community.
+
+Rosaline was still at Falmouth--and meant to remain there. She wrote
+that she was helping her aunt with her millinery business, was
+already clever at it, and received wages, which she intended to
+transmit to her mother. The first instalment--it was not much--had
+already come. Frank Raynor had just called Dame Bell unsuspicious as
+the day. She was so. But, one curious fact, in spite of the freedom
+from suspicion, was beginning to strike her: in all the letters
+written by Rosaline she had never once mentioned her father's name, or
+inquired whether he was found.
+
+Frank Raynor, elastic Frank, had recovered his spirits. It was perhaps
+impossible that one of his light and sanguine temperament should long
+retain the impression left by the dreadful calamity of that fatal
+March night. Whatever the precise details of the occurrence had been,
+he had managed outwardly to shake off the weight they had thrown upon
+him, and in manner was himself again.
+
+Perhaps one thing, that helped him to do this, was his altered opinion
+as to the amount of knowledge possessed by Blase Pellet. At first he
+had feared the man; feared what he knew, and what evil he might bring.
+But, as the days and the weeks had gone on, and Blase Pellet did not
+speak, or give any hint to Trennach that he had anything in his power
+to betray, Frank grew to think that he really knew nothing; that
+though the man might vaguely suspect that something wrong had occurred
+that night, he was not actually cognizant of it. Therefore Frank
+Raynor had become in a measure his own light and genial self again.
+None could more bitterly regret the night's doings than he did: but
+his elastic temperament could throw off all sign of remorse; ay, and
+often its recollection.
+
+The thing that troubled him a little was Mrs. Bell's position. It was
+through him she had been deprived of the chief means which had kept
+her home; therefore it was only just, as he looked upon it, that he
+should help her now. Even with the proceeds from the lodgers and the
+stockings, and with what Rosaline would be enabled to send her, her
+weekly income would be very much smaller than it had been. Frank
+wished with his whole heart that he could settle something upon her,
+or make her a weekly allowance; but he was not rich enough to do that.
+He would, however, help her a little now and again in secret--as much
+as he was able--and this was the destination of the two sovereigns. In
+secret. It would not do to let her or any one else know the money came
+from him, lest the question might be asked, What claim has she upon
+you that you should send it to her? To answer that truthfully would be
+singularly inconvenient.
+
+Trennach in general could of course make no more of the disappearance
+of Bell than his wife made. It was simply not to be understood. Many
+and many an hour's discussion took place over it in the pits; or at
+the Golden Shaft, to the accompaniment of pipes and beer; many a
+theory was started. The man might be here, or he might be there; he
+might have strolled this way, or wandered that way--but it all ended
+as it began: in uncertainty. Bell was missing, and none of them could
+divine the cause. And the Seven Whistlers, that he heard on the Sunday
+night or thought he heard, had certainly left no damage behind them
+for the miners. The men might just as well have been at work those
+three days for all the accident that had occurred in the mines.
+Perhaps better.
+
+Seated at the window of what was called the pink drawing-room at The
+Mount, from the colour of its walls, were Mrs. St. Clare and her
+daughter Lydia. The large window, shaded by its lace curtains, stood
+open to the warm bright day. Upon the lawn was Margaret in her white
+dress, flitting from flower to flower, gay as the early butterflies
+that sported in the sunshine. Lydia, a peculiar expression on her
+discontented face, watched her sister's movements.
+
+Frank Raynor had just gone out from his morning visit, carrying with
+him an invitation to dine with them in the evening. Lydia was really
+better; she no more wanted the attendance of a doctor than her sister
+wanted it: but she was devoured by ennui still, and the daily, or
+almost daily, coming of Frank Raynor was the most welcome episode in
+her present life. She had learned to look for him: perhaps had learned
+in a very slight degree to _like_ him: at any rate, his presence was
+ever welcome. Not that Lydia would have suffered herself to entertain
+serious thoughts of the young surgeon--because he was a surgeon, and
+therefore far beneath her notice in that way--but she did recognize
+the fascination of his companionship, and enjoyed it. Latterly,
+however, an idea had dawned upon her that some one else enjoyed it
+also--her sister--and the suspicion was extremely unwelcome. Lydia was
+of an intensely jealous disposition. She would not for the world have
+condescended to look upon Frank Raynor as a lover, but her jealousy
+was rising, now that she suspected Daisy might be doing so, somewhat
+after the fashion of the dog-in-the-manger. That little chit, Daisy,
+too, whom she looked upon as a child!--there was some difference,
+she hoped, between nineteen and her own more experienced age of
+five-and-twenty! She was fond of Daisy, but had not the least
+intention of being rivalled by her; and perhaps for the child's own
+sake, it might be as well to speak.
+
+As Frank went out, he crossed Daisy's path on the lawn. They turned
+away side by side, walking slowly, talking apparently of the flowers;
+lingering over them, bending to inhale their perfume. Mrs. St. Clare,
+a new magazine and a paper-knife in her hand--for she did make a
+pretence of reading now and then, though it was as much a penance as a
+pleasure--glanced up indifferently at them once, and then glanced down
+again at her book. But Lydia, watching more observantly, saw signs and
+wonders: the earnest gaze of Frank's blue eyes as they looked into
+Daisy's; the shy droop in hers; and the lingering pressure of the
+hands in farewell. He went on his way; and Daisy, detecting in that
+moment her sister's sharp glance from the window, made herself at once
+very busy with the beds and the flowers, as if they were her only
+thought in life.
+
+"Mamma!"
+
+The tone was so sharp that Mrs. St. Clare lifted her head in surprise.
+Lydia's voice was usually as supinely listless as her own.
+
+"What is it, Lydia?"
+
+"Don't you think that Daisy wants a little looking after?"
+
+"In what way?"
+
+"Of course I may be mistaken in my suspicions. But I think I am not. I
+will assume that I am not."
+
+"Well, Lydia?"
+
+"She and Mr. Raynor are flirting desperately."
+
+Mrs. St. Clare made no reply whatever. Her eyes fixed inquiringly on
+Lydia's, kept their gaze for a moment or so, and then fell on the
+magazine pages again. Lydia felt a little astonished: was this
+indignation or indifference?
+
+"Did you understand me, mamma?"
+
+"Perfectly, my dear."
+
+"Then--I really do not comprehend you. Don't you consider that Daisy
+ought to be restrained?"
+
+"If I see Daisy doing anything that I very much disapprove, I shall be
+sure to restrain her."
+
+"Have you not noticed, yourself, that they are flirting?"
+
+"I suppose they are. Something of the sort."
+
+"But _surely_, mamma, you cannot approve of Mr. Raynor! Suppose a
+serious attachment came of it, you could not suffer her to marry him!"
+
+Mrs. St. Clare turned her book upside down upon her knee, and spoke in
+the equable manner that characterized her, folding her arms idly in
+the light morning scarf she wore.
+
+"It never occurred to me, Lydia, until one day, a week or two ago,
+that any possibility could arise of what you are mentioning. Mr.
+Raynor's visits here are merely professional. Even when he comes by
+invitation to dinner, I consider them as partaking of that nature: to
+look upon them in any other light never entered my mind. On this day,
+however, I saw something that, figuratively speaking, opened my eyes."
+
+"What was it?" asked Lydia.
+
+"It occurred on the day that the Faulkners were to have come to us,
+and did not. Mr. Raynor dined here in the evening. After dinner I
+dropped into a doze; there, on the sofa"--pointing to the other end of
+the room. "When I awoke it was quite dusk; not dark; and Mr. Raynor
+and Daisy were standing together at this open window; standing very
+close indeed to each other. Daisy was leaning against him, in fact;
+and he, I think, had one of her hands in his. You were not in the
+room."
+
+"It was the evening I had so bad a headache, through vexation at those
+stupid people not coming!" cried Lydia, angrily. "I had gone upstairs,
+I suppose, to take my drops. But what did you do, mamma? Order Mr.
+Raynor from the house?"
+
+"No. Had I acted on my first impulse, I might have done that, Lydia.
+But instinct warned me to take time for consideration. I did so. I sat
+quite still, my head down on the cushion as before, they of course
+supposing me to be still asleep, and I ran the matter rapidly over in
+my mind. The decision I came to was, not to speak hastily; not _then_;
+to take, at any rate, the night for further reflection: so I coughed
+to let them know I was awake, and said nothing."
+
+"Well?" cried Lydia, impatiently.
+
+"I went over the affair again at night with myself, looking at it from
+all points of view, weighing its merits and demerits, and trying to
+balance one against the other," pursued Mrs. St. Clare. "The result I
+came to was this, Lydia: to let the matter take its course."
+
+Lydia opened her eyes very widely. "What, to let--to let her marry
+him?"
+
+"Perhaps. But you jump to conclusions too rapidly, Lydia."
+
+"Why, he is only a common medical practitioner!"
+
+"There of course lies the objection. But he is not a 'common'
+practitioner, Lydia. If he were so, do you suppose I should invite him
+here as I do, and make much of him? He is a gentleman, and the son of
+a gentleman. In point of fact," added Mrs. St. Clare, in a lower tone,
+as if the acknowledgment might only be given in a whisper, "our
+branch of the St. Clare family is little, if any, better than the
+Raynors----"
+
+"Mamma, how can you say so?" burst forth Lydia. "It is not true. And
+the Raynors have always been as poor as church mice."
+
+"And--I was going to say," went on Mrs. St. Clare with equanimity--"he
+is the heir to Eagles' Nest."
+
+Lydia sat back in her chair, a scowl on her brow. She could not
+contradict that.
+
+"In most cases of this kind there are advantages and disadvantages,"
+quietly spoke Mrs. St. Clare, "and I tried, as I tell you, to put the
+one side against the other, and see which was the weightier. On the
+one hand there is his profession, and his want of connections; on the
+other, there is Eagles' Nest, and his own personal attractions. You
+are looking very cross, Lydia. You think, I see, that Daisy might do
+better."
+
+"Of course she might."
+
+"She might or she might not," spoke Mrs. St. Clare, impressively.
+"Marriage used to be called a lottery: but it is a lottery that seems
+to be getting as scarce now as the lotteries that the old governments
+put down. For one girl who marries, half-a-dozen girls do not marry.
+Is it, or is it not so, Lydia?"
+
+No response. Mrs. St. Clare resumed.
+
+"And it appears to me, Lydia, that the more eligible girls, those who
+are most worthy to be chosen and who would make the best wives, are
+generally those who are left. Have you been chosen yet?--forgive me
+for speaking plainly. No. Yet you have been _waiting_ to be
+chosen--just as other girls wait--for these six or seven years. Daisy
+may wait in the same manner; wait for ever. We must sacrifice some
+prejudices in these non-marrying days, Lydia, if we are to get our
+daughters off at all. If an offer comes, though it may be one that in
+the old times would have been summarily rejected, it is well to
+_consider_ it in these. And so, you see, my dear, why I am letting
+matters take their course with regard to Daisy and Mr. Raynor."
+
+"He may mean nothing," debated Lydia.
+
+"Neither of them may mean anything, if it comes to that," said Mrs.
+St. Clare, relapsing into her idly indifferent manner. "It may be only
+a little flirtation--your own word just now--on both sides; pour faire
+passer le temps."
+
+"And if Daisy loses her heart to him, and nothing comes of it? You
+have called him attractive yourself."
+
+"Highly attractive," composedly assented Mrs. St. Clare. "As to the
+rest, it would be no very great calamity that I know of. When once a
+girl has had a little love affair in early life, and has got over it,
+she is always the more tractable in regard to eligible offers, should
+they drop in. No, Lydia, all things considered--and I have well
+considered them--it is the better policy not to interfere. The matter
+shall be left to take its course."
+
+"Well, I must say, Daisy ought not to be allowed to drift into love
+with a rubbishing assistant-surgeon."
+
+"She has already drifted into it, unless I am mistaken," said Mrs. St.
+Clare, significantly; "has been deep in it for some little time past.
+My eyes were not opened quickly enough; but since they did open, they
+have been tolerably observant, Lydia. Why--do you suppose I should
+wink at their being so much together, unless I intended the matter to
+go on? Don't they stroll out alone by moonlight and twilight, in
+goodness knows what shady walks of the garden, talking sentiment,
+looking at the stars, and bending over the same flowers? Twice that
+has happened, Lydia, since I have been on the watch: how many times it
+happened before, I can't pretend to say."
+
+Lydia remained silent. It was all true. Where had her own eyes been?
+Daisy would walk out through the open French window--she remembered it
+now--and he would stroll out after her: while Mrs. St. Clare would be
+in her after-dinner doze, and she, Lydia, lying back in her chair with
+the chest-ache, or upstairs taking her drops. Yes, it was all true.
+And what an idiot she had been not to see it--not to suspect it!
+
+"We cannot have everything; we must, as I say, make sacrifices,"
+resumed Mrs. St. Clare. "I could have wished that Mr. Raynor was not
+in the medical profession, especially in its lower branch. Of course
+at present he can only be regarded as altogether unsuitable for Daisy:
+but that will be altered when the major comes into Eagles' Nest. Frank
+will then no doubt quit the profession, and----"
+
+"The singular thing to me is, that he should ever have entered it,"
+interrupted Lydia. "Fancy the heir to Eagles' Nest making himself a
+working apothecary! It is perfectly incongruous."
+
+"It seems so," said Mrs. St. Clare. "I conclude there must have been
+some motive for it. Perhaps the major thought it well to give him a
+profession; and when he had acquired it sent him to this remote place
+to keep him out of mischief. It will be all right, Lydia, when they
+come into Eagles' Nest. The major will of course make Frank a suitable
+allowance as his heir. The major is already getting in years: Frank
+will soon come into it."
+
+"As to that old Mrs. Atkinson, she must intend to live to a hundred,"
+remarked Lydia, tartly. "How many centuries is it since we saw her in
+London?--and she was old then. She ought to give up Eagles' Nest to
+the major and live elsewhere. If it be the beautiful place that people
+say it is, she might be generous enough to let some one else have a
+little benefit out of it."
+
+Mrs. St. Clare laughed. "Old people are selfish, Lydia; they prefer
+their own ease to other people's. I dare say we shall be the same if
+we live long enough."
+
+From this conversation, it will be gathered that the check thrown upon
+Frank Raynor's pleasant intercourse with Margaret St. Clare by the
+unknown calamity (unknown to the world) that had so mysteriously and
+suddenly happened, had been only transitory. For a week or two
+afterwards, Frank had paid none but strictly professional visits to
+The Mount; had been simply courteous to its inmates, Daisy included,
+as a professional man, and nothing more. He had not danced with Daisy
+on her birthday; he had not given her any more tender glances, or
+exchanged a confidential word with her. But, as the first horror of
+the occurrence began to lose its hold upon his mind, and his
+temperament recovered its elasticity, his love returned to him. He was
+more with Daisy than ever; he _sought_ opportunities to be with her
+now: formerly they had only met in the natural course of things.
+And so they, he and she, were living in an enchanted dream, whose
+rose-coloured hues seemed as if they could only have come direct from
+Eden.
+
+And Frank Raynor, never famous for foresight or forethought at the
+best of times, fell into the belief that Mrs. St. Clare approved of
+him as a future aspirant for her daughter's hand and tacitly
+encouraged their love. That she must see they were intimate with an
+especial intimacy, and very much together, he knew, and in his
+sanguine way he drew deductions accordingly. In this he was partly
+right, as the reader has learnt; but it never entered into his
+incautious head to suppose that Mrs. St. Clare was counting upon his
+coming in for future wealth and greatness.
+
+They stood once more together on this same evening, he and Daisy,
+gazing at the remains of the gorgeous sunset. Dinner over, Daisy had
+strolled out as usual into the garden; he following her in a minute or
+two, without excuse or apology. In his assumption of Mrs. St. Clare's
+tacit encouragement, he believed excuse to be no longer necessary.
+Clouds of purple and crimson, flecked with gold, crowded the west;
+lighting up Daisy's face, as they stood side by side leaning on the
+low iron gate, with a hue as rosy as the dream they were living in.
+
+"I should like to see the sunsets of Italy," observed Margaret. "It is
+said they are very beautiful."
+
+"So should I," promptly replied Frank. "Perhaps some time we may see
+them together."
+
+Her face took a brighter tint, though there was nothing in the sky to
+induce it. He passed his hand along the gate, until it rested on hers.
+
+"Mamma talks of going abroad this summer," whispered Daisy. "I do not
+know whether it will be to Italy."
+
+"I hope she will not take you with her!"
+
+"It is Lydia's fault. She says this place tires her. And possibly,"
+added Daisy, with a sigh, "when once we get abroad, we shall stay
+there."
+
+"But, my darling, you know that must not be. I could not spare you.
+Why, Daisy, how could we live apart?"
+
+Her hand, clasped tenderly, lay in his. Her whole frame thrilled as
+the hand rested there.
+
+"Shall you always stay on at Trennach?" she questioned in low tones.
+
+"Stay on at Trennach!" he repeated, in surprise. "I! Why, Daisy, I
+hope to be very, very soon away from it. I came to my uncle two years
+ago, of my own accord, to gain experience. Nothing teaches experience
+like the drudgery of a general practice: and I was not one of those
+self-sufficient young students who set up after hospital work with
+M.D. on their door-plate, and believe themselves qualified to cure the
+world. It is kill or cure, haphazard, with some of them."
+
+"And--when you leave Trennach?" she asked, her clear eyes, clear this
+evening as amber, gazing out, as if she would fain see into the
+future.
+
+"Oh, it will be all right when I leave Trennach; I shall get along
+well," returned Frank, in his light, sanguine fashion. "I--I don't
+care to praise myself, Daisy, but I am clever in my profession; and a
+clever man must make his way in it. Perhaps I should purchase a share
+in a West-end practice in town; or perhaps set up on my own account in
+that desirable quarter."
+
+The bright hope of anticipation lighted Daisy's beautiful eyes. Frank
+changed his tone to one of the sweetest melody. At least, it sounded
+so to her ear.
+
+"And with one gentle spirit at my hearth to cheer and guide me, the
+world will be to me as a long day in Paradise. My best and dearest you
+know what spirit it is that I covet. Will she say me nay?"
+
+She did not say anything just now; but the trembling fingers, lying in
+his hand, entwined themselves confidingly within his.
+
+"I know you will get on," she murmured. "You will be great sometime."
+
+"Of course I shall, Daisy. And keep carriages and horses for my
+darling wife; and the queen will knight me when I have gained name and
+fame; and--and we shall be happier than the live-long day."
+
+The bright colours in the sky faded by degrees, leaving the grey
+twilight in their stead. Before them lay the sloping landscape, not a
+living soul to be seen on it; immediately behind them was the grove of
+laurels, shutting them out from view. In this favourable isolation,
+Frank passed his arm around Daisy's waist, and drew her face to his
+breast.
+
+"Nothing shall ever separate us, Daisy. Nothing in this world."
+
+"Nothing," she murmured, speaking between his passionate kisses. "I
+will be yours always and for ever."
+
+"And there will be no trouble," remarked he, in sanguine impulse, as
+they turned reluctantly from the gate to regain the house. "I mean no
+opposition. I am my own master, Daisy, accountable to none; and your
+mother has seen our love and sanctions it."
+
+"Oh, do you think she does sanction it?" exclaimed Daisy, drawing a
+deep breath.
+
+"Why, of course she does," replied Frank, speaking in accordance with
+his belief. "Would Mrs. St. Clare let us linger out together, evening
+after evening, if she did not see and sanction it? No, there will be
+neither trouble nor impediment. Life lies before us, Daisy, fair as a
+happy valley."
+
+Tea waited on the table when they got in. Mrs. St. Clare was sleeping
+still; Lydia looked very cross. Frank glanced at his watch, as if
+doubting whether he could stay longer.
+
+Daisy's pretty hands, the lace meant to shade them falling back, began
+to busy themselves with the tea-cups. It awoke Mrs. St. Clare. She
+drew her chair at once to the tea-table. Frank pushed Lydia's light
+couch towards it.
+
+"We were speaking to-day of Eagles' Nest," observed Mrs. St.
+Clare--and she really did not introduce the subject with any ulterior
+view; simply as something to talk about. "It's a very nice place, is
+it not?"
+
+"Very--by all accounts," replied Frank. "I have not seen it."
+
+"Indeed! Is not that strange?"
+
+"My aunt Atkinson has never invited me there. None of us have been
+invited, except the major. And he has not been there for several
+years."
+
+"How is that? Major Raynor is the next heir."
+
+"Well, I scarcely know how it is. He and Mrs. Atkinson are not very
+good friends. There was some quarrel, I fancy."
+
+"Mrs. Atkinson must be very old."
+
+"About seventy-four, I believe."
+
+"Not more than that! I thought she was ninety at least."
+
+"I was saying to-day," put in Lydia, "that those old people ought to
+give up their estates to the heir. It is unreasonable to keep Major
+Raynor so long out of his own."
+
+Frank smiled. "He would be very glad if she did give it up, I dare
+say; but I don't know about the justice of it. Elderly people, as a
+rule, cling to their homes. I once knew an old lady who was
+unexpectedly called upon to give up the home in which she had lived
+for very many years, and it killed her. Before the day for turning out
+came, she was dead."
+
+"At any rate, Mr. Raynor, _you_ will not be kept out of it so long
+when it comes to your turn," remarked Mrs. St. Clare: "for I suppose
+the major is very nearly as old as Mrs. Atkinson."
+
+Frank's honest blue eyes went straight into those of the speaker with
+a questioning glance.
+
+"I beg your pardon: kept out of what?"
+
+"Of Eagles' Nest."
+
+His whole face lighted up with amusement at the mistake she was
+making.
+
+"I shall never come into Eagles' Nest, Mrs. St. Clare."
+
+"Never come into Eagles' Nest! But the major comes into it."
+
+"The major does. But----"
+
+"And you are his eldest son."
+
+Frank laughed outright. Freely and candidly he answered--with never a
+thought of reserve.
+
+"My dear lady, I am not Major Raynor's son at all. His eldest son is
+my cousin Charley. It is he who will succeed to Eagles' Nest."
+
+Mrs. St. Clare stared at Frank. "Good Heavens!" she murmured under her
+breath. "You are not the son of Major Raynor?"
+
+"No, I am his nephew. My father was the clergyman."
+
+"I--I have heard Major Raynor call you his son!" she debated, hardly
+believing her own ears. "He has called you so to my face."
+
+"He often does call me so," laughed Frank. "I fear--he is--proud of
+me--dear, fond old uncle!"
+
+"Well, I never was so deceived in all my life!" ejaculated Mrs. St.
+Clare.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+PLANNING OUT THE FUTURE.
+
+
+It has been already said that there were originally three of the
+brothers Raynor: Francis, who was an officer in her Majesty's service;
+Henry the clergyman; and Hugh the doctor. The youngest of these, Hugh,
+was the first to marry by several years; the next to marry was Henry.
+Henry might have married earlier, but could not afford it: he waited
+until a living was given to him. In the pretty country rectory
+attached to his church, he and his wife lived for one brief year of
+their married life: and then she died, leaving him a little boy-baby,
+who was named Francis after the clergyman's eldest brother. Some ten
+years later the Reverend Henry Raynor himself died; and the little boy
+was an orphan, possessed of just sufficient means to educate him and
+give him a start in life in some not too costly profession. When the
+time came, he chose that of medicine, as his Uncle Hugh had done
+before him.
+
+The eldest of the three brothers was the last to marry: Captain
+Raynor. He and his young wife led rather a scrambling sort of life for
+some years afterwards, always puzzled how to make both ends of their
+straitened income meet; and then a slice of good fortune (as the
+captain regarded it) befell him. Some distant relative left him an
+annuity of five hundred a-year. Five hundred a-year in addition to his
+pay seemed riches to the captain: whilst his unsophisticated and not
+too-well-managing wife thought they were now clear of shoals for life.
+
+Very closely upon this, the captain obtained his majority. This was
+succeeded by a long and severe attack of illness; and the major, too
+hastily deciding that he should never be again fit for active service,
+sold out. He and his wife settled down in a pretty cottage-villa,
+called Spring Lawn, in the neighbourhood of Bath, living there and
+bringing up their children in much the same scrambling fashion that
+they had previously lived. No order, no method; all good-hearted
+carelessness, good-natured improvidence. Just as it had been in their
+earlier days, so it was now: they never knew where to look for a
+shilling of ready-money. That it would be so all through life with
+Major Raynor, whatever might be the amount of his income, was pretty
+certain: he was sanguine, off-hand, naturally improvident. The
+proceeds from the sale of his commission had all vanished, chiefly in
+paying back-debts; the five hundred a-year was all they had to live
+upon, and that five hundred would die with the major: and, in short,
+they seemed to be worse off now than before the annuity came to them.
+Considering that they spent considerably more than the five hundred
+yearly, and yet had no comfort to show for it, and that debts had
+gathered again over the major's head, it was not to be wondered at
+that they were not well off. The major never gave a thought to
+consequences; debt sat as lightly upon him as though it had been a
+wreath of laurel. If he did feel slightly worried at times, what
+mattered it: he should, sooner or later, come into Eagles' Nest, when
+all things would be smooth as glass. A more prudent man than the major
+might have seen cause to doubt the absolute certainty of the estate
+coming to him. _He_ did not; he looked upon the inheritance of it as
+an accomplished fact.
+
+The reader has probably not forgotten Mr. and Mrs. Timothy
+Atkinson--at whose house Edina had stayed so many years ago. Changes
+had taken place since then. Both the partners in the bank, Timothy and
+his cousin (they were only second cousins), were dead: and the firm
+had long been Atkinson and Street. For, upon the death of the two old
+men, Mr. George Atkinson, their sole successor, took his managing
+clerk, Edwin Street, into partnership. The bank was not one of
+magnitude--I think this has already been said--only a small, safe,
+private one. The acting head of it was, to all intents and purposes,
+Edwin Street: for Mr. George Atkinson passed the greater portion of
+his time abroad, coming home only every two or three years. George
+Atkinson was well off, and did not choose to worry himself with the
+cares of business: had the bank been given up to-morrow, he would have
+had plenty of money without it. During his later life, Mr. Timothy
+Atkinson had invested the chief portion of his savings in the purchase
+of an estate in Kent, called Eagles' Nest. He was not a rich man, as
+bankers go, never having been an equal partner in the firm; drawing
+from it in fact only a small share. His death was somewhat sudden, and
+occurred during one of his sojourns at Eagles' Nest. Mrs. Atkinson,
+his widow; not less portly than of yore, and still very much of an
+invalid; summoned her two brothers to attend the funeral: Major Raynor
+from Bath, Dr. Raynor from Trennach. The major went up at once: Dr.
+Raynor sent a refusal; his excuse, no idle one, being that he could
+not leave his patients. The season was one of unusual sickness, and he
+had no one to take his place. This refusal Mrs. Atkinson, never a very
+genial woman, or at all cordial with her brothers, resented.
+
+When Mr. Timothy Atkinson's will was opened, it was found that he had
+left everything he possessed to his wife unconditionally. Consequently
+the estate was now at her own disposal. Though a pretty, compact
+property, it was not a large one: worth some two thousand a-year, but
+capable of great improvement.
+
+On the day following the funeral, Mrs. Atkinson went up to her house
+in London, the major accompanying her. There she found George
+Atkinson, who had just arrived in England; which was an agreeable
+surprise to her. He had always been a favourite of hers, and he would
+be useful to her just now.
+
+"I shall leave it to you, George," she suddenly observed one morning,
+a few days after this, as they sat together looking over letters and
+papers.
+
+"Leave what to me, aunt?" For he had called her "aunt" in the old
+days, and often did so still.
+
+"Eagles' Nest."
+
+George Atkinson laid down the bundle of letters he was untying, and
+looked questioningly at the old lady, almost as though he doubted her
+words.
+
+"I am sure you cannot mean that."
+
+"Why not, pray?"
+
+"Because it is a thing that you must not think of doing. You have near
+relatives in your brothers. It is they who should benefit by your
+will."
+
+"My brothers can't both inherit the place," retorted the old lady.
+
+"The elder of them can--Major Raynor."
+
+"I like you better, George, than I like him."
+
+"I am very glad you like me--but not that your liking should render
+you unjust to your family," he returned, firmly but gently. "Indeed,
+dear Mrs. Atkinson, to prefer me to them would be an act of the
+greatest injustice."
+
+"My will ought to be made at once," said the old lady.
+
+"Certainly. And I hope you will not as much as mention my name in it,"
+he added with a smile. "I have so very much of my own, you know, that
+a bequest from you would be altogether superfluous."
+
+The conversation decided Mrs. Atkinson. She sent for her lawyer, Mr.
+John Street, and had her will drawn up in favour of Major Raynor.
+Legacies to a smaller or larger amount were bequeathed to a few
+people, but to Major Raynor was left Eagles' Nest. Her brother Hugh,
+poor Dr. Raynor of Trennach, was not mentioned in it: neither was
+Edina.
+
+The will was made in duplicate; Mrs. Atkinson desired her solicitor to
+retain possession of one copy; the other she handed to Major Raynor.
+She affixed her own seal to the envelope in which the will was
+enclosed, but allowed him first to read it over.
+
+"I don't know how to thank you, Ann, for this," said the major, tears
+of genuine emotion resting on his eyelashes. "It will be good news for
+Mary and the young ones."
+
+"Well, I'm told it's the right thing to do, Frank," answered the old
+lady: who was older than any of her brothers, and had domineered over
+them in early life. "I suppose it is."
+
+So Major Raynor went back to Spring Lawn with the will in his pocket;
+and he considered that from that hour all his embarrassments were
+over. And Mrs. Atkinson gave up her house in London, and stationed
+herself for life at Eagles' Nest. While George Atkinson, after a
+month's sojourn, went abroad again.
+
+But now, as ill-fortune had it, Major Raynor had chanced, since that
+lucky day, to offend his sister. The year following the making of the
+will, being in London on some matter of business, he took the
+opportunity to go down to Eagles' Nest--and went without asking
+permission, or sending word. Whether that fact displeased Mrs.
+Atkinson, or whether she really did not care to see him at all,
+certain it was that she was very cross and crabbed with him, her
+temper almost unbearable. The major had a hot temper himself on
+occasion, and they came to an issue. A sharp quarrel ensued; and the
+major, impulsive in all he did, quitted Eagles' Nest that same hour.
+When he reached Spring Lawn, after staying another week in London to
+complete his business, he found a letter awaiting him from his sister,
+telling him that she had altered her will and left Eagles' Nest to
+George Atkinson.
+
+"Stupid old thing!" exclaimed the major, laughing at what he looked
+upon as an idle threat. "As if she would do such a thing as that!" For
+the major had never the remotest idea that she had once intended to
+make George Atkinson her heir.
+
+And from that hour to this, the major had not once seriously thought
+of the letter again. He had never since seen Mrs. Atkinson; had never
+but once heard from her; but he looked upon Eagles' Nest as being as
+certainly his as though it were already in his possession. Once every
+year at Christmas-time he wrote his sister a letter of good wishes; to
+which she did not respond. "Ann never went in for civilities," would
+observe the major.
+
+The one exception was this. When his eldest son, Charles, had attained
+his sixteenth year, the major mentioned the fact in the annual letter
+to his sister. A few days afterwards, down came the answer from her of
+some half-dozen lines: in which she briefly offered Charles an opening
+(as she called it) in life: meaning, a clerkship in the bank of
+Atkinson and Street, which her interest would procure for him. Master
+Charles, who had far higher notions than these, as befitted the heir
+to Eagles' Nest, threw up his head in disdain: and the major wrote a
+letter of refusal, as brief as the old lady's offer. With that
+exception, they had never heard from her.
+
+The major and his wife were both incredibly improvident; he in
+spending money; she in not knowing how to save it. Yielding and
+gentle, Mrs. Raynor fell in with anything and everything done by her
+husband, thinking that because he did it, it must be right. She never
+suggested that they might save cost here, and cut it off there; that
+this outlay would be extravagant, or that unnecessary. There are some
+women really not capable of forethought, and Mrs. Raynor was one of
+them. As to doing anything to advance their own interest, by
+cultivating Mrs. Atkinson's favour, both were too single-minded for
+such an act; it may be said too strictly honourable.
+
+It was with them, his uncle and aunt, that Frank Raynor had spent his
+holidays when a boy, and all his after-intervals of leisure. They were
+just as fond of Frank as they were of their own children: he was ever
+welcome. The major sometimes called him "my son Frank," when
+speaking of him to strangers; very often indeed "my eldest boy."
+As to taking people in by so doing, the major had no thought of the
+sort; but there is no doubt that it did cause many a one, not
+acquainted with the actual relationship, to understand and believe
+that Frank was in truth the major's son. Possibly their names being
+the same--Francis--contributed to the impression. Amongst those who
+had caught up the belief, was Mrs. St. Clare. She had occasionally met
+the Major and Mrs. Raynor in Bath, though the acquaintanceship was of
+the slightest. When her son, young St. Clare, came into possession of
+The Mount, and it was known that she was going to remove there, the
+major, meeting her one day near the Old Pump-room, said to her, in the
+openness of his heart, "I'll write to Trennach to my boy Frank, and
+tell him to make himself useful to you." "Oh," returned Mrs. St.
+Clare, "have you a boy at Trennach?" "Yes, the eldest of them: he is
+with his uncle the doctor," concluded the major, unsuspiciously. Had
+he thought it would create mischief, or even a false impression, he
+would have swallowed the Pump-room before he had spoken it. That the
+major was the presumptive heir to Eagles' Nest was well known: and
+Mrs. St. Clare may be excused for having, under the circumstances,
+carried with her to her new abode the belief that Frank would succeed
+him in the estate.
+
+On the night that the enlightenment took place--when Frank so candidly
+and carelessly disabused Mrs. St. Clare's mind of the impression--he
+perceived not the chill that the avowal evidently threw upon her. That
+it should affect her cordiality to him he could never have feared. A
+more worldly man, or one of a selfish nature, would have seen in a
+moment that his not being heir to Eagles' Nest rendered him a less
+eligible parti for Margaret; but Frank Raynor, in worldliness, as in
+selfishness, was singularly deficient. And he left The Mount when tea
+was over, quite unconscious that anything had occurred to diminish the
+favour in which he was held by its mistress.
+
+Not with that was his mind occupied as he walked home; but rather with
+thoughts of the future. Daisy was to be his; she had promised it; and
+Frank would have taken her to himself to-morrow, could he have
+provided her with bread-and-cheese. How to do this was puzzling his
+brain now.
+
+He took the road home over the Bare Plain. Never, since the night of
+that fatal tragedy, had Frank Raynor taken it by choice: he always
+chose the highway. But to-night he had a patient lying ill in the
+cottages on the Plain; and Dr. Raynor had said to him, "Call in and
+see Weston, Frank, as you return." The visit paid, he continued his
+way homewards. It was a light night: there were neither stars nor
+moon: but a white haze seemed to veil the sky, and lighted up
+surrounding objects. Frank looked towards the Bottomless Shaft as he
+passed it; his fascinated eyes turning to it of their own accord.
+Bringing them back with an effort and a shudder, he quickened his
+pace, and went onwards with his burthensome secret.
+
+"Will it lie hidden there for ever?" he said, half aloud. "Pray Heaven
+that it may!"
+
+Dr. Raynor was sitting in the small room behind his surgery; a room
+chiefly used for private consultations with patients; in his hand was
+a medical journal, which he was reading by lamplight. He put it down
+when Frank entered.
+
+"I want to ask you something, Uncle Hugh," began Frank, impulsively,
+as though what he was about to say was good news. "Should I have any
+difficulty, do you think, in dropping into a practice when I leave
+you?"
+
+"You do mean to leave me, then, Frank?" returned Dr. Raynor, without
+immediately replying to the question.
+
+"Why, of course I do, Uncle Hugh," said Frank, in slight surprise. "It
+was always intended so. I came here, you know, for two years, and I
+have stayed longer than that."
+
+"And you would not like to remain altogether, and be my partner and
+successor?"
+
+"No," replied Frank, very promptly. "It would be a poor living for two
+people; my share of it very small, for I could not expect you to give
+me half the profits. And there are other reasons against it. No, Uncle
+Hugh; what I want to do is, to jump into some snug little practice in
+a place where I shall get on. Say in London."
+
+A smile crossed the more experienced doctor's lips. Young men are
+sanguine.
+
+"It is not easy to 'jump into a snug little practice,' Frank."
+
+"I know that, sir: but there are two ways in which it may be done. One
+way is, to purchase a share in an established practice; another, to
+set up well in some likely situation, with a good house and a plate on
+the door, and all that, and wait for patients to drop in."
+
+"But each of those ways requires money, Frank."
+
+"Oh, of course," acquiesced Frank, lightly, as though money were the
+most ordinary commodity on earth.
+
+"Well, Frank, where would you find the money? You have not saved much,
+I take it, out of the salary you have from me."
+
+"I have not saved anything: I am never a pound to the good," answered
+Frank, candidly. "Clothes cost a good deal, for one thing."
+
+"When gentlemen dress as you do, and buy their kid gloves by the
+dozen," said the doctor, archly. "Well, whence would you find the
+means to set yourself up in practice?"
+
+"That's what I want to ask you about, Uncle Hugh. I dare say you
+remember, when there was so much talk about that will of my aunt
+Ann's, that it was said I had a share in it."
+
+"Indeed, Frank, I don't. I remember I was told that she had not left
+anything to me; and I really remember no more."
+
+"Then you cannot tell me what the amount was?" exclaimed Frank, in
+accents of disappointment. "I thought perhaps Uncle Francis might have
+told you."
+
+Dr. Raynor shook his head. "I have no idea, Frank, whether it was one
+pound or one thousand. Or many thousands."
+
+"You see, sir, if I knew the exact sum, I could think about my plans
+with more certainty."
+
+"Just so, Frank. As it is, your plans must be somewhat like castles in
+the air."
+
+"I recollect quite well Uncle Francis telling me that I came in for a
+good slice. That was the exact phrase: 'in for a good slice.' He had
+read the will, you know. I wonder he did not mention it to you."
+
+"All I recollect, or know, about it is, that Francis wrote me word
+that nothing was left to me. He said he had remonstrated with
+Ann--your aunt--at leaving my name out of the will, and that she
+ordered him, in return, to mind his own business. I do not care for it
+myself; I do not, I am sure, covet any of the money Ann may leave;
+though I could have wished she had not quite passed over Edina."
+
+"She must have a good deal of money, Uncle Hugh, apart from Eagles'
+Nest."
+
+"I dare say she has."
+
+"And, if Uncle Francis comes in for that money, I should think he
+would make over half of it to you. I should, were I in his place."
+
+"Ah, Frank," smiled the doctor, "people are not so chivalrously
+generous in this world; even brothers."
+
+"I should call it justice, not generosity, sir."
+
+"If you come to talk of justice, you would also be entitled to your
+share, as Henry's son. He was equally her brother."
+
+"But I don't expect anything of the kind," said Frank. "Provided I
+have enough to set me up in practice, that's all I care for."
+
+"You would not have that until your aunt dies."
+
+"To be sure not. I am not expecting it before. But what has struck me
+is this, Uncle Hugh--I have been turning the thing over in my mind as
+I walked home--that I might, without any dishonour, reckon upon the
+money now."
+
+"In what way? How do you mean?"
+
+"Suppose I go to some old-established man in London who, from some
+cause or other--advancing years, say--requires some one to relieve him
+of a portion of his daily work. I say to him, 'Will you take me at
+present as your assistant, at a fair salary, and when I come into my
+money'--naming the sum--'I will hand that over to you and become your
+partner?' Don't you think that seems feasible, sir?"
+
+"I dare say it does, Frank."
+
+"But then, you see, to do this, I ought to know the exact sum that is
+coming to me. Unless I were able to state that, I should not be
+listened to. That's why, sir, I was in hopes that you could tell me
+what it was."
+
+"And so I would tell you if I knew it, Frank. I do not think Francis
+mentioned to me that you would come in for anything. I feel sure, if
+he had done so, I should remember it."
+
+"That's awkward," mused Frank, thoughtfully balancing the paper-knife
+he had caught up from the table. "I wonder he did not tell you, Uncle
+Hugh."
+
+"To say the truth, so do I," replied Dr. Raynor. "It would have been
+good news: and he knows that I am equally interested with himself in
+the welfare of Henry's orphan son. Are you sure, Frank, that you are
+making no mistake in this?"
+
+"I don't think I am. I was staying at Spring Lawn when the major came
+home from Aunt Atkinson's after her husband's death, and he brought
+her will with him. He was telling us all about it--that Eagles' Nest
+was to be his, and that there were several legacies to different
+people, and he turned to me and said, 'You come in for a good slice,
+Frank.' I recollect it all, sir, as though it had taken place
+yesterday."
+
+"Did he mention how much the 'slice' was?"
+
+"No, he did not. And I did not like to ask him."
+
+There was a pause. Dr. Raynor began putting the papers straight on the
+table, his usual custom before retiring for the night. Frank had
+apparently fallen into a reverie.
+
+"Uncle Hugh," he cried, briskly, lifting his head, his face glowing
+with some idea, his frank blue eyes bright with it, "if you can spare
+me for a couple of days, I will go to Spring Lawn and ask Uncle
+Francis. I should like to be at some certainty in the matter."
+
+"I could spare you, Frank: there's nothing particular on hand that I
+cannot attend to myself for that short time. But----"
+
+"Thank you, Uncle Hugh," interrupted Frank, impetuously. "Then suppose
+I start to-morrow morning?"
+
+"But--I was about to inquire--what is it that has put all this into
+your head so suddenly?"
+
+Frank's eager eyes, raised to the doctor's face, fell at the question.
+A half-conscious smile parted his lips.
+
+"There's no harm, sir, in trying to plan out one's future."
+
+"None in the world, Frank. I only ask the reason for your setting
+about it in this--as it seems to me--sudden manner."
+
+"Well--you know, Uncle Hugh--I--I may be marrying some time."
+
+"And you have been fixing on the lady, I see, Frank!"
+
+A broad smile now shone upon Frank's face. He was sending the
+paper-knife round in circles on the table, with rather an unnecessary
+noise. Dr. Raynor's thoughts were going hither and thither; he could
+not recall any individual in the neighbourhood of Trennach likely to
+be honoured by Frank's choice. In an instant an idea flashed over
+him--an idea that he did not like.
+
+"Frank! can it be that you are thinking of one of the Miss St.
+Clares?"
+
+"And if I were, sir?"
+
+"Then--I fear--that there may be trouble in store for you," said the
+doctor, gravely. "Mrs. St. Clare would never sanction it."
+
+"But she has sanctioned it, Uncle Hugh. She sanctions it every day of
+her life."
+
+"Has she told you so?"
+
+"Not in words. But she sees how much I and Daisy are together, and she
+allows it. _That_ will be all right, Uncle Hugh."
+
+"Daisy? Let me see? Oh, that is the young one: she is a nice little
+girl. I cannot say I like the elder. But----"
+
+"But what, sir?"
+
+"You are by nature over-sanguine, Frank; and I cannot help thinking
+that you are so in this. Rely upon it, there is some mistake here.
+Mrs. St. Clare is a proud, haughty woman, remarkably alive, unless I
+am in error, to self-interest. She would not be likely to give a
+daughter to one whose prospects are so uncertain as yours."
+
+"But I am wishing to make my prospects more certain, you see, uncle.
+And I can assure you she approves of me for Daisy."
+
+"Well, well; if so, I am glad to hear it. Nevertheless it surprises
+me. I should have supposed she would look higher for suitors for her
+daughters. The little girl is a nice girl, I say, Frank, and you have
+my best wishes."
+
+"Thank you, Uncle Hugh," warmly repeated Frank, rising, his face
+flushing with pleasure as he met the doctor's hand. "Of course you
+understand that it must not yet be talked of: I must first of all
+speak to Mrs. St. Clare."
+
+"I shall not be likely to talk of it," replied Dr. Raynor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+MAJOR AND MRS. RAYNOR.
+
+
+The windows of Spring Lawn stood open to the afternoon sun. It was a
+small, pretty white house, half cottage, half villa, situated about
+three miles from Bath. A latticed portico, over which crept the white
+clematis, led into a miniature hall: Major Raynor could just turn
+round in it. On either side was a small sitting-room, the dining-room
+on the left, the drawing-room on the right.
+
+The scrambling midday dinner was over. Somehow all the meals seemed to
+be scrambling at the major's, from the utter want of order, and of
+proper attendance. Only two servants were kept, a cook and a nurse:
+and _they_ could not always get their wages paid. When Edina was
+there, she strove to bring a little comfort out of the chaos: but that
+was only a chance event; a brief and rare occasion, occurring at long
+intervals in life. Some wine stood on the old table-cover, with a
+plate of biscuits. On one side of the table sat the major; a tall and
+very portly man, with a bald head and a white moustache, looking every
+day of his nine and-sixty years. He had been getting on for fifty when
+he married his young wife; who was not quite eight-and-thirty yet: a
+delicate, fragile-looking woman, with a small fair face and gentle
+voice, mild blue eyes, a pink colour, and thin light brown hair
+quietly braided back from it. Mrs. Raynor looked what she was: a
+gentle, yielding, amiable, helpless woman; one who could never be
+strong-minded in any emergency whatever, but somehow one to be loved
+at first sight.
+
+She sat half turned from the table--as indeed did the major opposite,
+their faces towards the window--her feet on a footstool, and her hands
+busy with work, apparently a new frock she was making for one of her
+younger children. She wore a faded muslin gown, green its predominant
+colour; a score of pins, belonging to the work in process, in her
+waistband.
+
+They were talking of the weather. The major was generally in a state
+of heat. That morning he had walked into Bath and back again, and got
+in late for dinner, puffing and steaming, for it was an up-hill walk.
+He liked to have a fly one way at least; but he had not always the
+money in his pocket to pay for it.
+
+"Yes, it was like an oven in the sun, Mary," continued he, enlarging
+upon the weather. "I don't remember any one single year that the heat
+has come upon us so early."
+
+"That's why I have a good deal of sewing to do just now," observed
+Mrs. Raynor. "We have had to take to our summer things before they
+were ready. Look at poor dear little Robert! The child must be melted
+in that stuff frock."
+
+"What's the nurse about?--can't she make him one?" asked the major.
+
+"Oh, Francis, she has so much to do. With all these children! She does
+some sewing; but she has not time for very much."
+
+The major, sipping his wine just then, looked at the children, sitting
+on the grass-plot. Four of them, in whose ages there was evidently
+more than the usual difference between brothers and sisters. One
+looked an almost grown-up young lady. That was Alice. She wore a
+washed-out cotton dress and a frayed black silk apron. Alfred was the
+next, aged ten, in an old brown-holland blouse and tumbled hair. Kate,
+in another washed-out cotton and a pinafore, was eight: and Robert was
+just three, a chubby, fat child in a thick woollen plaid frock. They
+were stemming cowslips to make into balls, and were as happy as the
+day was long.
+
+"I saw Mrs. Manners in Bath this morning," resumed the major. "She
+says she is coming to spend a long day here."
+
+"I hope she won't come until Bobby's new frock is finished," said Mrs.
+Raynor, her fingers plying the needle more swiftly at the thought. "He
+looks so shabby in that old thing."
+
+"As if it mattered! Who cares what children have on?"
+
+"Oh, I forgot to tell you, Francis--the butcher asked to see me this
+morning: he came over for orders himself. He says he must have some
+money."
+
+"Oh, does he?" returned the major, with careless unconcern. "I don't
+know when I shall have any for him, I'm sure. Did you tell him so?"
+
+"I did not go to him: I sent Charley. I do hope he will not stop the
+supply of meat!"
+
+"As if he would do that!" cried the major, throwing up his head with a
+beaming smile. "He knows I shall come into plenty of money sooner or
+later."
+
+At this moment the children came rushing with one accord to the
+window, and stood--those who were tall enough--with their arms on the
+sill, Alice with the cowslips gathered up in her apron. Little
+Robert--often called Baby--who toddled up last, could only stretch his
+hands up to the edge of the sill.
+
+"Mamma--papa," said Alice, a graceful girl, with the clearly-cut
+Raynor features and her mother's mild blue eyes, "we want to have a
+little party and a feast of strawberries and cream. It would be so
+delightful out here on the grass, with tables and chairs, and----"
+
+"Strawberries are not in yet," interrupted the major. "Except those in
+the dearer shops."
+
+"When they are in, we mean, papa. Shall we?"
+
+"To be sure," said papa, as pleased with the idea as were the
+children. "Perhaps we could borrow a cow and make some syllabubs!"
+
+Back ran the children to the grass again, to plan out the anticipated
+feast. Alice was seventeen; but in mind and manners she was still very
+much of a child. As they quitted the window, the room-door opened, and
+a tall, slender, well-dressed stripling entered. It was the eldest of
+them all, Charles Raynor. He also had the well-formed features of the
+Raynors, dark eyes and chestnut hair; altogether a very nice-looking
+young man.
+
+"Why, Charley, I thought you were out!" cried his father.
+
+"I have been lying down under the tree at the back, finishing my
+book," said Charley. "And now I am going into Bath to change it."
+
+It was the greatest pity--at least most sensible people would have
+thought it so--to see a fine, capable young fellow wasting the best
+days of his existence. This, the dawning period of his manhood, was
+the time when he ought to have been at work, preparing himself to run
+his career in this working world. Instead of that, he was passing it
+in absolute idleness. Well for him that he had no vice in his nature:
+or the old proverb, about idle hands and Satan, might have been
+exemplified in him. All the reproach that could at present be cast on
+him was, that he was utterly useless, thoroughly idle: and perhaps he
+was not to blame for it, as nothing had been given him to do.
+
+Charles Raynor was not brought up to any profession or business.
+Various callings had been talked of now and again in a desultory
+manner; but Major and Mrs. Raynor, in their easy-going negligence, had
+brought nothing to pass. As the heir to Eagles' Nest, they considered
+that he would not require to use his talents for his livelihood:
+Charles himself decidedly thought so. Gratuitous commissions in the
+army did not seem to be coming Major Raynor's way; he had not the
+means to purchase one: and, truth to tell, Charles's inclinations did
+not tend towards fighting. The same drawback, want of money, applied
+to other possibilities: and so Charles had been allowed to remain
+unprofitably at home, doing nothing; very much to his own
+satisfaction. If obliged to choose some profession for himself, he
+would have fixed on the Bar: but, first of all, he wanted to go to one
+of the universities. Everything was to be done, in every way, when
+Eagles' Nest dropped in: _that_ would be the panacea for all present
+ills. Meanwhile, Major Raynor was content to let the time slip easily
+away, until that desirable consummation should arrive, and to allow
+his son to let it slip away easily too.
+
+"Charley, I wish you'd bring me back a Madeira cake, if you are going
+into Bath."
+
+"All right, mamma."
+
+"And, Charley," added the major, "just call in at Steer's and get
+those seeds for the garden."
+
+"Very well," said Charley. "Will they let me have the things without
+the money?"
+
+"Oh yes. They'll put them down."
+
+Charley gave a brush to his coat in the little hall, put on his hat,
+and started, book in hand. As he was passing the children, they plied
+him with questions: where he was going, and what to do.
+
+"Oh, I'll go too!" cried Alfred, jumping to his feet. "Let me go with
+you, Charley!"
+
+"I don't mind," said Charley. "You'll carry the book. How precious hot
+it is! Take care you don't get a sunstroke, Alice."
+
+Alice hastily pulled her old straw hat over her forehead, and went on
+with her cowslips. "Charley, do you think you could bring me back a
+new crochet-needle?" she asked. "I'll give you the old one for a
+pattern."
+
+"Hand it over," said Charley. "I shall have to bring back all Bath if
+I get many more orders. I say, youngster, you don't think, I hope,
+that you are going with me in that trim!"
+
+Alfred looked down at his blouse, and at the rent in the hem of his
+trousers.
+
+"What shall I put on, Charley? My Sunday clothes? I won't be a
+minute."
+
+The boy ran into the house, and Charles strolled leisurely towards the
+little gate. He reached it just in time to meet some one who was
+entering. One moment's pause to gaze at each other, and then their
+hands were clasped.
+
+"Frank!"
+
+"Charley!"
+
+"How surprised I am! Come in. You are about the last fellow I should
+have expected to see."
+
+Frank laughed gaily. He enjoyed taking them by surprise in this way;
+enjoyed the gladness shining from their eyes at sight of him, the
+hearty welcome.
+
+"I dare say I am. How are you all, Charley? There are the young ones,
+I see! Is that Alice? She _has_ grown!"
+
+Alice came bounding towards him, dropping the yellow blossoms from her
+apron. They had not seen him since the previous Christmas twelvemonth,
+when he had spent a week at Spring Lawn. Little Robert did not know
+him, and stood back, shyly staring.
+
+"And is this my dear little Bob?" cried Frank, catching him up and
+kissing him. "Does he remember brother Frank? And--why, there's
+mamma!--and papa! Come along."
+
+The child still in his arms, he went on to meet Major and Mrs. Raynor,
+who were hastening with outstretched hands of greeting.
+
+"This sight is better than gold!" cried the major. "How are you, my
+dear boy?"
+
+"We thought we were never to see you again," put in Mrs. Raynor. "How
+good of you to come!"
+
+"I have come to take just a peep at you all. It seems ages since I was
+here."
+
+"Are you come for a month?"
+
+"A month!" laughed Frank. "For two days."
+
+"Oh! Nonsense!"
+
+And so the bustle and the greetings continued. Major Raynor poured out
+a glass of wine, though Frank protested it was too hot for wine,
+especially after his walk from Bath. Mrs. Raynor went to see her cook
+about sending in something substantial with tea. Charles deferred his
+walk, and the young ones seduced Frank to the grass-plot to help with
+the cowslips.
+
+And Frank never gave the slightest intimation that he had come from
+Trennach for any purpose, except that of seeing them. But at night,
+when bedtime came and Mrs. Raynor went upstairs, leaving the major,
+as usual, to finish his glass and pipe, Frank drew up his chair for a
+conference, Charley being present.
+
+He then disclosed the real purport of his visit--namely, to ascertain
+from Major Raynor the amount of money coming to him under Mrs.
+Atkinson's will. Explaining at the same time why he wished to
+ascertain this: his intention to get into practice in London, and the
+ideas that had occurred to him as to the best means of accomplishing
+it. Just as he had explained the matter to Dr. Raynor at Trennach, the
+previous night.
+
+"You see, Uncle Francis, it is time I was getting a start in life," he
+urged. "I am half-way between twenty and thirty. I don't care to
+remain an assistant-surgeon any longer."
+
+"Of course you don't," said the major, gently puffing away. "Help
+yourself, Frank."
+
+"Not any more, thank you, uncle. And so, as the first preliminary
+step, I want you to tell me, if you have no objection, what sum Aunt
+Ann has put me down for."
+
+"Can't recollect at all, Frank."
+
+"But--don't you think this idea of mine a good one?--getting some
+well-established man to take me in on the strength of this money?"
+asked Frank, eagerly. "I cannot see any other chance of setting up."
+
+"It's a capital idea," said the major, taking a draught of
+whisky-and-water.
+
+"Well, then, Uncle Francis, I hope you will not object to tell me what
+the amount is."
+
+"My boy, I'd tell you at once, if I knew it. I don't recollect it the
+least in the world."
+
+"Not recollect it!" exclaimed Frank.
+
+"Not in the least."
+
+It was a check for Frank. His good-natured face looked rather blank.
+Charley, who seemed interested, sat nursing his knee and listening.
+
+"Could you not recollect if you tried, uncle?"
+
+"I am trying," said the major. "My thoughts are back in the matter
+now. Let me see--what were the terms of the will? I know I had Eagles'
+Nest; and--yes--I think I am right--I was also named residuary
+legatee. Yes, I was. That much I do remember."
+
+Frank's face broke into a smile. "It would be strange if you forgot
+_that_, uncle. Try and remember some more."
+
+"Let me see," repeated the major, passing his unoccupied hand over his
+bald head. "There were several legacies, I know; and I think--yes, I
+do think, Frank--your name stood first on the list. But, dash me if I
+can recollect for how much."
+
+"Was it for pounds, hundreds, or thousands?" questioned Frank.
+
+"That's what I can't tell. Hang it all my memory's not worth a rush
+now. When folks grow old, Frank, their memory fails them."
+
+"I remember your words to me at the time, Uncle Francis: they were
+that I came in for a good slice."
+
+"Did I? When?"
+
+"When you came back from London, and were telling my aunt about the
+will. I was present: it was in this very room. 'You come in for a good
+slice, Frank,' you said, turning to me."
+
+"Didn't I say how much?"
+
+"No. And I did not like to ask you. Of course you knew how much it
+was?"
+
+"Of course I did. I read the will."
+
+"I wish you could remember."
+
+"I wish I could, Frank. I ought to. I'll sleep upon it, and perhaps it
+will come to me in the morning."
+
+"Where is the will?" asked Charles, speaking for the first time.
+"Don't you hold it, papa?"
+
+Major Raynor took his long pipe from his mouth, and turned the stem
+towards an old-fashioned walnut bureau that stood by the side of the
+fireplace. The upper part of it was his own, and was always kept
+locked; the lower part consisted of three drawers, which were used
+indiscriminately by Mrs. Raynor and the children.
+
+"It's there," said the major. "I put it there when I brought it home,
+and I've never looked at it since."
+
+As if the thought suddenly came to him to look at it then, he put his
+pipe in the fender, took a bunch of keys from his pocket, and unlocked
+the bureau. It disclosed some pigeon-holes above, some small, shallow
+drawers beneath them, three on each side, and one deeper drawer in the
+middle. Selecting another key, he unlocked this last, pulled the
+drawer right out, and put it on the table. Two sealed parchments lay
+within it.
+
+"Ay, this is it," said the major, selecting one of them. "See, here's
+the superscription: 'Will of Mistress Ann Atkinson.' And that is my
+own will," he added, nodding to the other. "See, Charley: you'll know
+where to find it in case of need. Not that any of you would be much
+the better for it, my lad, as things are at present. They will be
+different with us when Eagles' Nest falls in."
+
+Frank had taken the packet from the major's hand, and was looking at
+the seal: a large red seal, with an imposing impression.
+
+"I suppose you would not like to open this will, uncle? Would it be
+wrong to do so?"
+
+The major shook his head, slowly but decisively. "I can't open it,
+Frank. Although I know its contents--at least, I knew them once--to
+open it would seem like a breach of confidence. Your aunt Ann sealed
+the will herself in my presence, after I had read it. 'Don't let it be
+opened until my death,' she said, as she handed it to me. And so, you
+see, I should not like to do it."
+
+"Of course not," readily spoke Frank. "I could not wish you to do so.
+Perhaps, uncle, you will, as you say, recollect more when you have
+slept upon it."
+
+"Ay, perhaps so. I have an idea, mind you, Frank, that it was a very
+good slice; a substantial sum."
+
+"What should you call substantial?" asked Frank.
+
+"Two or three thousand pounds."
+
+"I do hope it was!" returned Frank, his face beaming. "I could move
+the world with that."
+
+But the major did not return the smile. Sundry experiences of his own
+were obtruding themselves on his memory.
+
+"We are all apt to think so, my boy. But no one knows, until they try
+it, how quickly a sum of ready-money melts. Whilst you are saying I'll
+do this with it, or I'll do that--hey, presto! it is gone. And you sit
+looking blankly at your empty hands, and wonder what you've spent it
+in."
+
+Taking the drawer, with the two wills in it, he put it back in its
+place, locking it and the bureau safely as before. And then he went up
+to bed to "sleep upon it," and try and get back his recollection as to
+an item that one of those wills contained.
+
+Morning came. One of the same hot and glorious days that the last few
+had been: and the window was thrown open to the sun. It shone on the
+breakfast-table. The children, in their somewhat dilapidated attire,
+but with fresh, fair, healthy faces and happy tempers, sat round it,
+eating piles of bread-and-butter, and eggs ad libitum. Mrs. Raynor, in
+the faded muslin gown that she had worn the day before, presided over
+a dish of broiled ham, whilst Alice poured out the coffee. It seemed
+natural to Mrs. Raynor that she should take the part, no matter at
+what, that gave her the least trouble: kind, loving, gentle, she
+always was, but very incapable.
+
+The major was not present. The major liked to lie in bed rather late
+in a morning; which was not good for him. But for his indolent habits,
+he need not have been quite so stout as he was. Frank Raynor glanced
+at the bureau, opposite to him as he sat, and wondered whether his
+uncle had recollected more about the one desired item of the will
+within it during his sleep.
+
+"Has Uncle Francis had a good night, aunt?" asked Frank, who was
+inwardly just as impatient as he could be for news, and perhaps
+thought he might gather some idea by the question.
+
+"My dear, he always sleeps well," said Mrs. Raynor. "_Too_ well, I
+think. It is not good for a man of his age."
+
+"How can a man sleep too well, mamma?" cried one of the children.
+
+"Well, my darling, I judge by the snoring. Poor papa snores dreadfully
+in his sleep."
+
+"Will he be long before he's down, do you suppose, Aunt Mary?"
+
+"I hear him getting up, Frank. He is early this morning because you
+are here."
+
+And, indeed, in a minute or two the major entered: his flowery
+silk dressing-gown--all the worse for wear, like the children's
+clothes--flowing around him, his hearty voice sending forth its
+greeting. For some little time the children kept up an incessant fire
+of questions; Frank could not get one in. But his turn came.
+
+"Have you remembered that, Uncle Francis, now that you have slept upon
+it?"
+
+The major looked across the table. Just for the moment he did not
+speak. Frank went on eagerly.
+
+"Sometimes things that have dropped out of our memory come back to us
+in a dream. I have heard of instances. Did it chance so to you last
+night, uncle?"
+
+"My dear boy, I dreamt that a great big shark with open jaws was
+running after me, and I could not get out of the water."
+
+"Then--have you not recollected anything?"
+
+"I fear not, Frank. I shall see as the day goes on."
+
+But the day went on, and no recollection upon the point came back to
+Major Raynor. He "slept upon it" a second night, and still with the
+same result.
+
+"I am very sorry, my boy," he said, grasping Frank's hand at parting,
+as they stood alone together on the grass-plot for a moment. "Goodness
+knows, I'd tell you if I could. Should the remembrance come to me
+later--and I dare say it will: I don't see why it should not--I'll
+write off at once to you at Trennach. Meanwhile, you may safely count
+on one thing--that the sum's a good one."
+
+"You think so?" said Frank.
+
+"I more than think so; I'm next door to sure of it. It's in the
+thousands. Yes, I feel certain of that."
+
+"And so will I, then, uncle, in my own mind." It would have been
+strange had Frank, with his sanguine nature, not felt so, thus
+encouraged. "I can be laying out my plans accordingly."
+
+"That you may safely do. And look here, Frank, my boy: even should
+it turn out that I'm mistaken--though I know I am not," continued
+the open-hearted major, "I can make it up to you. As residuary
+legatee--and I remember that much correctly now--I should be sure to
+come into many thousands of ready-money; and some of it shall be
+yours, if you want it.''
+
+"How good you are, uncle!" cried Frank, his deep-blue eyes shining
+forth their gratitude.
+
+"And I'll tell you something more, my boy. Though I hardly like to
+speak of it," added the major, dropping his voice, "and I've never
+mentioned it at home: for it would seem as though I were looking out
+for poor Ann's death, which I wouldn't do for the world. Neither would
+you, Frank."
+
+"Certainly not, Uncle Francis. What is it?"
+
+"Well, I had a letter the other day on some business of my own from
+Street the lawyer. He chanced to mention in it that he had been down
+to Eagles' Nest: and he added in a postscript that he was shocked to
+see the change in your aunt Ann. In fact, he intimated that a very
+short time must bring the end. So you perceive, Frank, my boy--though,
+as I say, it sounds wrong and mean to speak of it--you may go back
+quite at your ease; for all the money you require will speedily be
+yours."
+
+And Frank Raynor went back accordingly, feeling as certain of the good
+fortune coming to him, as though it had been told down before his eyes
+in golden guineas.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+SCHEMING.
+
+
+The light of the hot and garish day had almost faded from the world,
+leaving on it the cool air, the grateful hues of twilight.
+Inexpressibly grateful was that twilight to Frank Raynor and the
+pretty girl by his side, as they paced unrestrainedly, arm-in-arm,
+the paths of that wilderness, the garden at The Mount. The period of
+half-breathed vows and tender hints had passed: each knew the other's
+love, and they spoke together confidentially of the future.
+
+After the unpleasant truth--that Frank was not heir to Eagles'
+Nest--had so unexpectedly dawned on Mrs. St. Clare, she informed her
+daughter Margaret that the absurd intimacy with Mr. Raynor must be put
+aside. Margaret, feeling stunned for a minute or two, plucked up
+courage to ask why. Because, answered Mrs. St. Clare, it had turned
+out that he was not the heir to Eagles' Nest. And Margaret, whose
+courage increased with exercise, gently said that that was no good
+reason: she liked Mr. Raynor for himself, not for any prospects he
+might or might not possess, and that she could not give him up. A
+stormy interview ensued. At least it was stormy on the mother's part:
+Margaret was only quiet, and inwardly firm. And the upshot was, that
+Mrs. St. Clare, who hated contention, as most indolent women do,
+finally flew into a passion, and told Margaret that if she chose to
+marry Mr. Raynor she must do so; but that she, her mother, and The
+Mount, and the St. Clare family generally, would wash their hands of
+her for ever after.
+
+When once Mrs. Clare said a thing, she held to it. Margaret knew that;
+and she knew that from henceforth there was no probability, one might
+almost write possibility, of inducing her mother to consent to her
+marriage with Frank Raynor. Margaret was mistress of her own actions
+in one sense of the word: when Colonel St. Clare died he left no
+restrictions on his daughters. All his money; it was not much; was
+bequeathed to his wife, and was at her own absolute disposal; but not
+a word was said in his will touching the free actions of his children.
+Mrs. St. Clare knew this; Daisy knew it; and that, in the argument,
+gave the one an advantage over the other.
+
+But Mrs. St. Clare, in the dispute, committed a fatal error. When
+people are angry, they often say injudicious things. Had she said to
+Margaret, I forbid you to marry Mr. Raynor, Margaret would never have
+thought of disobeying the injunction: but when Mrs. St. Clare said,
+"If you choose to marry him, do so, but I shall wash my hands of you,"
+it put the idea into Margaret's head. Mrs. St. Clare had used the
+words because they came uppermost in her anger, never supposing that
+any advantage could be taken of them. To her daughter they wore a
+different aspect. Right or wrong--though of course it was wrong, not
+right--she looked upon it as a half-tacit permission: and from that
+moment the idea of marrying Frank with no one's approval but her own,
+took possession of her. To lose him seemed terrible in Margaret's
+eyes; she would almost as soon have lost life itself: and instinct
+whispered a warning that in a short time Mrs. St. Clare would contrive
+to separate them, and they might never meet again.
+
+It was of this terrible prospect of separation, or rather of avoiding
+the prospect, that Mr. Raynor and Margaret were conversing in the
+twilight of the summer's evening. For once they had met and could
+linger together without restraint. Mrs. St. Clare and Lydia had gone
+to a dinner-party ten miles away: Margaret had not been invited; the
+card said Mrs. and Miss St. Clare; and so they could not take her.
+Mrs. St. Clare, divining perhaps that her absence might be thus made
+use of, had proposed to Lydia that Margaret should be the one to go;
+but Lydia, selfish as usual, preferred to go herself. Mr. Raynor was
+no longer a visitor at The Mount. Mrs. St. Clare, after the rupture
+with Margaret, wrote a request to Dr. Raynor that for the future he
+would attend himself; but she gave no reason. So that the lovers had
+not had many meetings lately.
+
+All the more enjoyable was the one this evening. Frank had gone over
+on speculation. Happening to hear Dr. Raynor say that Miss St. Clare
+was going out to dinner with her mother, he walked over on the chance
+of seeing Margaret. And there they were, absorbed in each other amidst
+the sighing trees and the scented flowers.
+
+Frank, open-natured, single-minded, had told her every particular of
+his visit to Spring Lawn: what he had gone for, what the result had
+been, and that his uncle the major had assured him of the large sum he
+might confidently reckon upon inheriting under Mrs. Atkinson's will.
+To this hour Frank knew not the full truth of Mrs. St. Clare's altered
+manner; for Margaret, in her delicacy, did not give him a hint as to
+Eagles' Nest. "Mamma thinks that you--that you are not rich enough to
+marry," poor Margaret had said, stammering somewhat in the brief
+explanation. But, as he was now pointing out to Margaret with all his
+eloquence, the time could not be very far off when he should be quite
+rich enough.
+
+"Shall you not consider it so, Daisy? When I have joined some noted
+man in London, to be paid well for my present services, with the
+certainty of being his partner at no distant date? We should have a
+charming house; I would take care of that; and every comfort within
+it. Not a carriage; not luxuries; I could not attempt that at first;
+but we could afford, in our happiness, to wait for them."
+
+"Oh yes," murmured Daisy, thinking that it would be Paradise.
+
+"If I fully explain all this to your mother----"
+
+"It would be of no use; she would not listen," interrupted Daisy.
+"I--I have not told you all she said, Frank; I have not liked to tell
+you. One thing we may rest assured of--she will never, never give her
+consent."
+
+"But she must give it, Daisy. Does she suppose we could give each
+other up? You and I are not children, to be played with; to be
+separated without rhyme or reason."
+
+"In a short time--I do not know how short--mamma intends to shut up
+The Mount and take me and Lydia to Switzerland and Italy. It may be
+_years_ before we come back again, Frank; years and years. I dare say
+I should never see you again."
+
+"I'm sure you speak very calmly about it, Daisy! Almost as if you
+liked it!"
+
+Looking down at her he met her reproachful eyes and the sudden tears
+the words had called up in them.
+
+"My darling, what is to be done? You cannot go abroad with them: you
+must remain in England."
+
+"As if that would be possible!" breathed Daisy. "I have no one to stay
+with; no relatives, or anything. And if I had, mamma would not leave
+me."
+
+"I wish I could marry you off-hand!" cried thoughtless Frank, speaking
+more in the impulse of the moment than with any real meaning in what
+he said.
+
+Daisy sighed: and put her cheek against his arm. And what with one
+word and another, they both began to think it might be. Love is blind,
+and love's arguments, though specious, are sadly delusive. In a few
+minutes they had grown to think that an immediate marriage, as private
+as might be, was the only way to save them from perdition. That is, to
+preserve them one to another: and that it would be the very best mode
+of proceeding under their untoward lot.
+
+"The sooner it is done, the better, Daisy," cried Frank, going in for
+it now with all his characteristic eagerness. "I'd say to-morrow, if I
+had the license, but I must get that first. I hope and trust your
+mother will not be very angry!"
+
+Daisy had not lifted her face. His arm was pressed all the closer.
+Frank filled up an interlude by taking a kiss from the sweet lips.
+
+"Mamma said that if I did marry you, she should wash her hands of me,"
+whispered Daisy.
+
+"Said that! Did she! Why, then, Daisy, she must have seen herself that
+it was our best and only resource. I look upon it almost in the light
+of a permission."
+
+"Do you think so?"
+
+"Of course I do. And so do you, don't you? How good of her to say it!"
+
+With the blushes that the subject called up lighting her face, they
+renewed their promenade amidst the trees, under the grey evening sky,
+talking earnestly. The matter itself settled, ways and means had to be
+discussed. Frank's arm was round her; her hand was again clasped in
+his.
+
+"Our own church at Trennach will be safest, Daisy; safest, and best:
+and the one most readily got to. You can come down at an early hour:
+eight o'clock, say. No one will be much astir here at home, and I
+don't think you will meet any one en route. The road is lonely enough,
+you know, whether you take the highway or the Bare Plain."
+
+Daisy did not answer. Her clear eyes had a far-off look in them,
+gazing at the grey sky.
+
+"Fortune itself seems to aid us," went on Frank, briskly. "At almost
+any time but this we might not have been able to accomplish it so
+easily. Had I gone to Mr. Pine and said, I want you to marry me and
+say nothing about it, he might have demurred; thought it necessary to
+consult Dr. Raynor first, or invented some such scruple; but with Pine
+away and this new man here the matter is very simple. And so, Daisy,
+my best love, if you will be early at the church the day after
+to-morrow, I shall be there waiting for you."
+
+"What do you call early?"
+
+"Eight o'clock, I said. Better not make it later. We'll get married,
+and not a soul will be any the wiser."
+
+"Of course I don't mean it to be a real wedding," said Daisy, blushing
+violently, "with a tour, and a breakfast, and all that, Frank. We can
+just go into the church, and go through the ceremony, and come out
+again at different doors; and I shall walk home here, and you will go
+back to Dr. Raynor's. Don't you see?"
+
+"All right," said Frank.
+
+"And if it were not," added Daisy, bursting into a sudden flood of
+tears, "that it seems to be the only way to prevent our separation,
+and that mamma must have had some idea we should take it when she said
+she would wash her hands of me, I wouldn't do such a dreadful thing
+for the world."
+
+Frank Raynor set himself to soothe her, kissing the tears away. A few
+more minutes given to the details of the plan, an urgent charge on
+Daisy to keep her courage up, and to be at the church in time, and
+then they separated.
+
+Daisy stood at the gate and watched him down the slight incline from
+The Mount, until he disappeared. She remained where she was, dwelling
+upon the momentous step she had decided to take; now shrinking from it
+instinctively, now telling herself that it was her sole chance of
+happiness in this world, and now blushing and trembling at the
+thought of being his wife, though only in name, ere the setting of the
+day-after-to-morrow's sun. When she at length turned with slow steps
+indoors, the lady's-maid, Tabitha, was in the drawing-room.
+
+"Is it not rather late for you to be out, Miss Margaret? The damp is
+rising. I've been in here twice before to see if you wouldn't like a
+cup of tea."
+
+"It is as dry as it can be--a warm, lovely evening," returned
+Margaret. "Tea? Oh, I don't mind whether I take any or not. Bring it,
+if you like, Tabitha."
+
+With this semi-permission, the woman withdrew for the tea. Margaret
+looked after her and knitted her brow.
+
+"She has been watching me and Frank--I _think_. I am sure old
+Tabitha's sly--and fond of interfering in other people's business. I
+hope she won't go and tell mamma he was here--or Lydia."
+
+This woman, Tabitha Float, had only lived with them since they had
+come to The Mount: their former maid, at the last moment, declining to
+quit Bath. Mrs. St. Clare had made inquiries for one when she reached
+The Mount, and Tabitha Float presented herself. She had recently left
+a family in the neighbourhood, and was staying at Trennach with her
+relatives, making her home at the druggist's. Mrs. St. Clare engaged
+her, and here she was. She proved to be a very respectable and
+superior servant, but somewhat fond of gossip; and in the latter
+propensity was encouraged by Lydia. Amidst the ennui which pervaded
+the days of Miss St. Clare, and of which she unceasingly complained,
+even the tattle of an elderly serving-maid seemed an agreeable
+interlude.
+
+Not a word said Frank Raynor of the project in hand. Serious, nay
+solemn, though the step he contemplated was, he was entering upon it
+in the lightest and most careless manner--relatively speaking--and
+with no more thought than he might have given to the contemplation of
+a journey.
+
+He had remarked to Margaret--who, in point of prudence, was not, in
+this case, one whit better than himself--that fortune itself seemed to
+be aiding them. In so far as that circumstances were just now, through
+the absence of the Rector of Trennach, more favourable to the
+accomplishment of the ceremony than they could have been at another
+time, that was true. The Reverend Mr. Pine had at length found himself
+obliged to follow the advice of Dr. Raynor, and had gone away with his
+wife for three months' rest. A young clergyman named Backup was taking
+the duty for the time; he had only just arrived, and was a stranger to
+the place. With him, Frank could of course deal more readily in the
+affair than he would have been able to do with Mr. Pine.
+
+Morning came. Not the morning of the wedding, but the one following
+the decisive interview between Frank and Margaret. In the afternoon,
+Frank made some plea at home for visiting a certain town, which we
+will here call Tello, in search of the ring and the marriage license.
+It happened that the Raynors had acquaintances there; and Edina
+unsuspiciously bade Frank call and see them. Frank went by rail, and
+was back again before dusk.
+
+Taking his tea at home, and reporting to Edina that their friends at
+Tello were well and flourishing, Frank went out later to call at the
+Rectory. It was a gloomy sort of dwelling, the windows looking out
+upon the graves in the churchyard. Mr. Backup was seated at his early
+and frugal supper when Frank entered. He was a very shy and nervous
+young man; and he blushed at being caught eating, as he started up to
+receive Frank.
+
+"Pray don't let me disturb you," said Frank, shaking hands, and then
+sitting down in his cordial way. "No, I won't take anything, thank
+you"--as the clergyman hospitably asked him to join him. "I haven't
+long had tea. I have come to ask you to do me a little service,"
+continued Frank, plunging headlong into the communication he had to
+make.
+
+"I'm sure I shall be very happy to--to--do anything," murmured Mr.
+Backup.
+
+"There's a wedding to be celebrated at the church tomorrow morning.
+The parties wish it to be got over early--at eight o'clock. It won't
+be inconvenient to you, will it, to be ready for them at that hour?"
+
+"No--I--not at all," stammered the young divine, relapsing into a
+state of inward tumult and misgiving. Not as to any doubt of the
+orthodoxy of the wedding itself, but as to whether he should be able
+to get over his part of it satisfactorily. He had never married but
+one couple in his life: and then he had made the happy pair kneel down
+at the wrong places, and contrived to let the bridegroom put the ring
+on the bride's right-hand finger.
+
+"Not at all too early," repeated he, striving to appear at his ease,
+lest this ready-mannered, dashing young man should suspect his
+nervousness on the score of his sense of deficiency. "Is it two of the
+miners' people?"
+
+"You will see to-morrow morning," replied Frank, laughing, and passing
+over the question with the most natural ease in the world. "At eight
+o'clock, then, please to be in the church. You will be sure not to
+keep them waiting?"
+
+"I will be there before eight," said Mr. Backup, rising as Frank rose.
+
+"Thank you. I suppose it is nothing new to you," lightly added Frank,
+as a passing remark. "You have married many a couple, I dare say."
+
+"Well--not so many. In my late curacy, the Rector liked to take the
+marriages himself. I chiefly did the christenings: he was awkward at
+holding the babies."
+
+"By the way, I have another request to make," said Frank, pausing at
+the front-door, which the clergyman had come to open for him. "It is
+that you would kindly not mention this beforehand."
+
+"Not mention? I don't quite understand," replied the bewildered young
+divine. "Not mention what?"
+
+"That there's going to be a wedding to-morrow. The parties would not
+like the church to be filled with gaping miners; they wish it to be
+got over quite privately."
+
+"I will certainly not mention it," readily assented Mr. Backup. "For
+that matter, I don't suppose I shall see any one between now and then.
+About the clerk----"
+
+"Oh, I will see him: I'll make that all right," responded Frank.
+"Good-evening."
+
+He went skimming over the grave-mounds to the opposite side of the
+churchyard, with little reverence, it must be owned, for the dead who
+lay beneath: but when a man's thoughts are filled with weddings, he
+cannot be expected to be thinking about graves. Crossing a stile, he
+was then close to the clerk's dwelling: a low, one-storied cottage
+with a slanting roof, enjoying the same agreeable view as the Rectory.
+The clerk's wife, a round, rosy little woman, was milking her goat in
+the shed, her gown pinned up round her.
+
+"Halloa, Mrs. Trim! you are doing that rather late, are you not?"
+cried Frank.
+
+"Late! I should think it is late, Master Frank," answered Mrs. Trim,
+in wrath. She was familiar enough with him, from the fact of going to
+the doctor's house occasionally to help the servant. "I goes over to
+Pendon this afternoon to have a dish o' dea with a friend there, never
+thinking but what Trim would attend to poor Nanny. But no, not a bit
+of it. Draat all they men!--a set o' helpless vools. I don't know
+whaat work Trim's good for, save to dig tha graves."
+
+"Where is Trim?"
+
+"Indoors, sir, smoking of his pipe."
+
+Frank stepped in without ceremony. Trim, who was sexton as well as
+clerk, sat at the kitchen-window, which looked towards the field at
+the back. He was a man of some fifty years: short and thin, with
+scanty locks of iron-grey hair, just as silent as his wife was
+loquacious, and respectful in his manner. Rising when Frank entered,
+he put his pipe down in the hearth, and touched his hair.
+
+"Trim, I want to send you on an errand," said Frank, lowering his
+voice against any possible eavesdroppers, and speaking hurriedly; for
+he had patients still to see to-night, "Can you take a little journey
+for me to-morrow morning?"
+
+"Sure I can, sir," replied Trim. "Anywhere you please."
+
+"All right. I went to Tello this afternoon, and omitted to call at the
+post-office for some letters that may be waiting there. You must go
+off betimes, by the half-past seven o'clock train; get the letters--if
+there are any--and bring them to me at once. You'll be back again long
+before the sun has reached the meridian, if you make haste. There's a
+sovereign to pay your expenses. Keep the change."
+
+"And in what name are the letters lying there, sir?" asked the clerk,
+a thoughtful man at all times, and saluting again as he took up the
+gold piece.
+
+"Name? Oh, mine: Francis Raynor. You will be sure not to fail me?"
+
+The clerk shook his head emphatically. He never failed any one.
+
+"That's right. Be away from here at seven, and you'll be in ample time
+for the train, walking gently. Don't speak of this to your wife, Trim:
+or to any one else."
+
+"As good set the church-bell clapping as tell her, sir," replied the
+clerk, confidentially. "You need not be afraid of me, Mr. Frank. I
+know what women's tongues are: they don't often get any encouragement
+from me."
+
+And away went Frank Raynor, over the stile and the mounds again,
+calling back a good-evening to Mrs. Trim; who was just then putting up
+her goat for the night.
+
+Scheming begets scheming. As Frank found. Open and straightforward
+though he was by nature and conduct, he had to scheme now. He wanted
+the marriage kept absolutely secret at present from every one:
+excepting of course from the clergyman who must of necessity take part
+in it. For this reason he was sending Clerk Trim out of the way, to
+inquire after some imaginary letters.
+
+Another little circumstance happened in his favour. Eight o'clock was
+the breakfast-hour at Dr. Raynor's. It was clear that if Frank
+presented himself to time at the breakfast-table, he could then not be
+standing before the altar rails in the church. Of course he must
+absent himself from breakfast, and invent some excuse for doing so.
+But this was done for him. Upon quitting the clerk's and hastening to
+his patients, he found one of them so much worse that it would be
+essential to see him at the earliest possible hour in the morning. And
+this he said later to the doctor. When his place was found vacant at
+breakfast, it would be concluded by his uncle and Edina that he was
+detained by the exigencies of the sick man.
+
+But, if Fortune was showing herself thus kind to him in some respects,
+Fate was preparing to be less so. Upon how apparently accidental and
+even absurd a trifle great events often turn. Or, rather, to what
+great events, affecting life and happiness, one insignificant incident
+will lead! The world needs not to be told this.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+THE WEDDING.
+
+
+"Papa, will you come to breakfast? Oh dear! what is the matter?"
+
+Edina might well ask. She had opened the door of the small
+consulting-room as the clock was chiming eight--the knell of Frank
+Raynor's bachelorhood--to tell her father that the meal was waiting,
+when she saw not only the hearth and the hearthrug, but the doctor
+himself enveloped in a cloud of soot, and looking as black as Erebus.
+
+"I said yesterday the chimney wanted sweeping, Edina."
+
+"Yes, papa, and it was going to be done next week. Have you been
+burning more paper in the chimney?"
+
+"Only just a letter: but the wind carried it up. Well, this is a
+pretty pickle!"
+
+"The room shall be done to-day, papa. It will be all right and ready
+for you again by night."
+
+Dr. Raynor took off his coat and shook it, and then went up to his
+room to get the soot out of his whiskers. The fact was, seeing the
+letter go roaring up the chimney, he stooped hastily to try to get it
+back again, remembering what a recent blazing piece of paper had done;
+when at that moment down came a shower of soot, and enveloped him.
+
+As he was descending the stairs again, the front-door was opened with
+a burst and a bang (no other words are so fitting to express the mad
+way in which excited messengers did enter), and told the doctor that
+he was wanted there and then by some one who was taken ill and
+appeared to be dying. Drinking a cup of coffee standing, the doctor
+followed the messenger. It had all passed so rapidly that Edina had
+not yet commenced her own breakfast.
+
+"Hester," she said, calling to the maid-servant, "papa has had to go
+out, and Mr. Frank is not yet in. You shall keep the coffee warm, and
+I will run at once to Mrs. Trim and see if she can come to-day. We
+must breakfast later this morning."
+
+Hastily putting on her bonnet and mantle, Edina went down the street
+towards the churchyard. The entrance to the church was at the other
+end, facing the open country, the parsonage was there also: on this
+side, near to her, stood the clerk's house. She could go to it without
+entering the graveyard; and did so. Trying the door, she found it
+fastened, which was unusual at that hour of the morning. It was
+nothing for the door to be fastened later, when the clerk and his wife
+were both abroad; the one on matters connected with his post, the
+other doing errands in the village, or perhaps at some house helping
+to clean. Edina gave a sharp knock with the handle of her umbrella,
+which she had brought with her; for dark clouds, threatening rain,
+were coursing through the sky. But the knock brought forth no
+response.
+
+"Now I do hope she is not out at work to-day!" ejaculated Edina,
+referring to Mrs. Trim. "The sweep _must_ come to the room; and Hester
+cannot well clean up after him with all her other work. There's the
+ironing about. If she has to do the cleaning to-day, I must do that."
+
+Another knock brought forth the same result--nothing. Edina turned to
+face the churchyard, and stood thinking. The goat was browsing on the
+green patch close by.
+
+"If I could find Trim, he would tell me at once whether she's away at
+work or not. She may have only run out on an errand. It is curious he
+should be out: this is their breakfast-time."
+
+Suddenly, as she stood there in indecision, an idea struck Edina: Mrs.
+Trim was no doubt dusting the church. She generally did it on
+Saturday, and this was Thursday: but, as Edina knew, if the woman was
+likely to be occupied on the Saturday, she took an earlier day for the
+duty.
+
+Lightly crossing the stile, Edina went through the churchyard and
+round the church to the entrance-porch. Her quick eyes saw that,
+though apparently shut, the door was not latched; and she pushed it
+open.
+
+"Yes, of course: Mary Trim expects to be busy to-morrow and Saturday,
+and is doing the dusting to-day," soliloquized Edina, deeming the
+appearances conclusive. "Well, she will have to make haste here, and
+come to us as soon as she can."
+
+But it was no Mrs. Trim with her gown turned up, and a huge black
+bonnet perched forward on her head, that Edina saw as she went gently
+through the inner green-baize door. A very different sight met her
+eyes; a soft murmur of reading broke upon her ears. The church was not
+large, as compared with some churches, though of fairly good size for
+a country parish: and she seemed to come direct upon the solemn scene
+that was being enacted. At the other end, before the altar, stood,
+side by side, Frank Raynor and Margaret St. Clare: facing them was the
+new clergyman, Mr. Backup, book in hand.
+
+Edina was extremely practical; but at first she really could not
+believe her eyesight. She stood perfectly motionless, gazing at them
+as one in a trance. They did not see her; could not have seen her
+without turning round; and Mr. Backup's eyes were fixed on his
+book--which, by the way, seemed to tremble a little in his hands, as
+though he were being married himself. Coming to a momentary pause, he
+went on again in a raised voice; and the words fell thrillingly on the
+ear of Edina.
+
+"I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day
+of judgment, when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that
+if either of you know any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully
+joined together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it. For be ye well
+assured, that so many as are coupled together otherwise than God's
+word doth allow are not joined together by God; neither is their
+Matrimony lawful."
+
+The words, one by one, fell not only on Edina's ear; they touched her
+soul. Oh, was there no impediment? Ought these two silly people,
+wedding one another in this stolen fashion, and in defiance of
+parental authority--ought they to stand silent under this solemn
+exhortation, letting it appear that there was none? Surely this deceit
+ought, of itself, to constitute grave impediment! Just for the moment
+it crossed Edina's mind to come forward, and beg them to reflect; to
+reflect well, ere this ceremony went on to the end. But she remembered
+how unfitting it would be: she knew that she possessed no right to
+interfere with either the one or the other.
+
+Drawing softly back within the door, she let it close again without
+noise, and made her way out of the churchyard. It appeared evident
+that neither the clerk nor his wife was in the church: and, if they
+had been, Edina could not have attempted then to speak to them.
+
+As one in a dream, went she, up the street again towards home. The
+clouds had grown darker, and seemed to chase each other more swiftly
+and wildly. But Edina no longer heeded the wind or the weather. They
+might, in conjunction with burning paper, send the soot down every
+chimney in the house, for all the moment it was to her just now. She
+was deeply plunged in a most unpleasant reverie. A reverie which was
+showing her many future complications for Frank Raynor.
+
+"Good-morning, Miss Edina! You be abroad early, ma'am."
+
+The voice was Mrs. Trim's: the black bonnet, going down with the rest
+of herself in a curtsy, was hers also. She carried a small brown jug
+in her hand, and had met Edina close to the doctor's house. Edina came
+out of her dream.
+
+"I have been to see after you, Mrs. Trim, and could not get in. The
+door was locked."
+
+"Dear now, and I be sorry, Miss Edina! I just went to carry a drop o'
+coffee and a morsel of hot toast to poor Granny Sandon: who heve got
+nobody much to look after her since Rosaline Bell left. So I just
+locked the door, and brought tha key away weth me, as much to keep the
+Nanny-goat out as for safety. She heve a way of loosing herself, Miss
+Edina, clever as I thinks I ties her, and of coming into the house:
+and they goats butts and bites at things, and does no end o'
+mischief."
+
+"Your husband is out, then?"
+
+"He heve gone off somewhere by rail, Miss Edina. I could na get out of
+him where 'twas, though, nor whaat it were for. They men be closer nor
+waax when they want to keep things from ye; and Trim, he be always
+close. It strikes me, though, he be went somewhere for Mr. Raynor."
+
+"Why do you think that?" cried Edina, quickly.
+
+"Well, I be sure o' one thing, Miss Edina--Trim had no thought o'
+going off anywhere when I come hoam last evening from Pendon; for
+after we had had a word or two about his not seeing to tha goat, he
+says to I he was going to do our garden up to-day: which would na be
+afore it wants it. Mr. Frank, he come in then, and was talking to Trim
+in tha kitchen, they two together; and, a-going to bed, Trim asks for
+a clean check shirt, and said he was a-staarting out in the morning on
+business. And, sure enough, he heve went, Miss Edina, and I found out
+as he heve went by one o' they trains."
+
+Edina said no more. She marshalled the chattering woman indoors to
+look at the state of the doctor's room, and to tell her it must be
+cleaned that day. Mrs. Trim took off her shawl there and then, and
+began to prepare for the work.
+
+The doctor had returned, and Hester was carrying the breakfast in.
+Edina took her place at the table, and poured out her father's coffee.
+
+"Is Frank not in yet?" he asked, as she handed it to him.
+
+"Not yet, papa."
+
+"Why, where can he be? He had only Williamson to see."
+
+Edina did not answer. She appeared to be intent on her plate. Fresh
+and fair and good she looked this morning, but she seemed to be lost
+in thought. The doctor observed it.
+
+"You are troubling yourself about that mess in my study, child!"
+
+"Oh no, indeed I am not, papa. Mary Trim is already here."
+
+"Are you sure Frank's not in the surgery, Edina?" said Dr. Raynor
+again presently.
+
+Knowing where Frank was, and the momentous ceremony he was taking part
+in--though by that time it had probably come to an end--Edina might
+safely assure the doctor that he was not in the surgery. Dr. Raynor
+let the subject drop: Frank had called in to see some other patient,
+he supposed, on his way home from Williamson's; and Edina, perhaps
+dreading further questions, speedily ended her breakfast, and went to
+look after Mrs. Trim and household matters.
+
+When the Reverend Titus Backup awoke from his slumbers that morning,
+the unpleasant thought flashed on his mind that he had a marriage
+ceremony to perform. Looking at his watch, he found it to be half-past
+seven, and up he started in a flurry. Having lain awake half the
+night, he had overslept himself.
+
+"Has the clerk been here for the key of the church, Betsy?" he called
+to the old servant, just before he went out.
+
+"No, sir."
+
+It wanted only about eight minutes to eight then. Mr. Backup, feeling
+somewhat surprised, for he had found Clerk Trim particularly attentive
+to his duties, walked along the passage to the kitchen, and took the
+church-key from the nail where it was kept. Opening the church
+himself, he then went round to the clerk's house, and found it locked
+up.
+
+Quite a hot tremor seized him. _Without_ the clerk and his experience,
+it would be next door to impossible to get through the service. Alone,
+he might break down. He should not know what to say, or where to place
+the couple; or when to tell them to kneel down, when to stand up; or
+where the ring came in, or anything.
+
+Where _was_ the clerk? Could he have made some mistake as to the hour?
+However, it wanted yet some minutes to eight. Crossing the churchyard,
+he entered the church, put on his surplice, carried the Prayer-book
+into the vestry, and began studying the marriage service as therein
+written.
+
+Frank Raynor came up to the church a minute after the clergyman
+entered it, and waited in the porch, looking out for his intended
+bride. Eight o'clock struck; and she had promised to be there before
+eight. Why did she not come? Was her courage failing her? Did the
+black clouds, gathering overhead, appal her? Had Mrs. St. Clare
+discovered all, and was preventing her? Frank thought it must be one
+or other of these calamities.
+
+There he stood, within the shelter of the porch, glancing to the right
+and left. He could not go to meet her because he did not know which
+way she would come: whether by the sheltered roadway, or across the
+Bare Plain. That was one of the minor matters they had forgotten to
+settle between themselves.
+
+As Frank was gazing about, and getting into as much of a flurry as was
+possible for one of his easy temperament, light, hasty steps were
+heard approaching; and Margaret, nervous, panting, agitated, fell into
+his arms.
+
+"My darling I thought you must be lost."
+
+"I could not get away before, Frank. Of all mornings, Lydia must needs
+choose this one to send Tabitha to my room for some books from the
+shelves. Now, these did not do; then, others did not do: the woman did
+nothing but run in and out. And the servants were about the passages:
+and oh, I thought I should never get away!"
+
+A moment given to soothing her, to stilling her beating heart, and
+they entered the church together. Margaret threw off the thin cloak
+she had worn over her pretty morning dress of white-and-peach sprigged
+muslin, almost as delicate as white. She went up the church, flushing
+and paling, on Frank's arm: Mr. Backup came out of the vestry to meet
+them. In a few flowing and plausible words, Frank explained that it
+was he himself who required the parson's services, handed him the
+license, and begged him to get the service over as soon as possible.
+
+"The clerk is not here," answered the bewildered man, doubly
+bewildered now.
+
+"Oh, never mind him," said Frank. "We don't want the clerk."
+
+An older and less timid clergyman might have said, I cannot marry you
+under these circumstances: all Mr. Backup thought of was, getting
+through his own part in it. It certainly did strike him as being
+altogether very strange: the question even crossed him whether he was
+doing rightly and legally: but the license was in due form, and in his
+inexperience and nervousness he did not make inquiries or raise
+objections. When he came to the question, Who giveth this Woman to be
+married to this Man, and there was no response, no one indeed to
+respond, he visibly hesitated; but he did not dare to refuse to go on
+with the service. An assumption of authority, such as that, was
+utterly beyond the Reverend Titus Backup. He supposed that the clerk
+was to have acted in the capacity: but the clerk, from some
+inexplicable cause, was not present. Perhaps he had mistaken the hour.
+So the service proceeded to its close, and Francis Raynor and Margaret
+St. Clare were made man and wife.
+
+They proceeded to the vestry; the clergyman leading the way, Frank
+conducting his bride, her arm within his, the ring that bound her to
+him encircling her finger. After a hunt for the register, for none of
+them knew where it was kept, Mr. Backup found it, and entered the
+marriage. Frank affixed his signature, Margaret hers; and then the
+young clergyman seemed at a standstill, looking about him helplessly.
+
+"I--ah--there are no witnesses to the marriage," said he. "It is
+customary----"
+
+"We must do without them in this case," interrupted Frank, as he laid
+down a fee of five guineas. "It does not require witnesses to make it
+legal."
+
+"Well--no--I--I conclude not," hesitated the clergyman, blushing as he
+glanced at the gold and silver, and thinking how greatly too much it
+was, and how rich this Mr. Raynor must be.
+
+"And will you do me and my wife a good turn, Mr. Backup," spoke Frank,
+ingenuously, as he clasped the clergyman's hand, and an irresistible
+smile of entreaty shone on his attractive face. "_Keep it secret_. I
+may tell you, now it is over and done, that no one knows of this
+marriage. It is, in fact, a stolen one; and just at present we do not
+wish it to be disclosed. We have our reasons for this. In a very short
+time, it will be openly avowed; but until then, we should be glad for
+it not to be spoken about. I know we may depend upon your kindness."
+
+Leaving the utterly bewildered parson to digest the information, to
+put off his surplice and to lock up the register, Frank escorted his
+bride down the aisle. When she stopped to take up her cloak and
+parasol, he, knowing there were no spectators, except the ancient and
+empty pews, folded her in his arms and kissed her fervently.
+
+"Oh, Frank! Please!--please don't! We are in church, remember." And
+there, what with agitation and nervous fear, the bride burst into a
+fit of hysterical tears.
+
+"Daisy! For goodness' sake!--not here. Compose yourself, my love. Oh,
+pray do not sob like that!"
+
+A moment or two, and she was tolerably calm again. No wonder she had
+given way. She had literally shaken from head to foot throughout the
+service. A dread of its being interrupted, a nervous terror at what
+she was doing, held possession of her. Now that it was over, she saw
+she had done wrong, and wished it undone. Just like all the rest of
+us! We do wrong first, and bewail it afterwards.
+
+"You remain in here, please, Frank; let me go out alone," she said,
+catching her breath. "It would not do, you know, for us to go out
+together, lest we might be seen. Good-bye," she added, timidly holding
+up her hand.
+
+They were between the green-baize door now and the outer one. Frank
+knew as well as she did that it would be imprudent to leave the church
+together. He took her hand and herself once more to him, and kissed
+her fifty times.
+
+"God bless and keep you, my darling! I wish I could see you safely
+home."
+
+Daisy's suggestion, a night or two ago, of their leaving the church by
+different doors, had to turn out merely a pleasant fiction, since the
+church possessed but one door. She lightly glided through it when
+Frank released her, and went towards home the way she had come, that
+of the shady road, her veil drawn over her face, her steps fleet. He
+remained where he was, not showing himself until she should be at a
+safe distance.
+
+"If I can only get in without being seen!" thought poor Daisy, her
+heart beating as she sped along. "Mamma and Lydia will not be
+downstairs yet, I know; and all may pass over happily. How high the
+wind is!"
+
+The wind was high indeed, carrying Daisy very nearly off her feet. It
+took her cloak and whirled it over her head in the air. As ill-luck
+had it, terrible ill-luck Daisy thought, who should meet her at that
+moment but the Trennach dressmaker. She had been to The Mount to try
+dresses on.
+
+"Mrs. St. Clare is quite in a way about you, Miss Margaret," spoke
+Mrs. Hunt, who was not pleased at having had her walk partly for
+nothing. "They have been searching everywhere for you."
+
+"I did not know you were expected this morning," said poor Daisy,
+after murmuring some explanation of having "come out for a walk."
+
+"Well, Miss Margaret, your mamma was good enough to say I might come
+whenever it was most convenient to me: and that's early morning, or
+late evening, so as not to take me out of my work in the daytime. I
+thought I might just catch you and Miss St. Clare when you were
+dressing, and could have tried on my bodies without much trouble to
+you."
+
+"What bodies are they?" asked Margaret. "I did not know that anything
+was being made."
+
+"They are dresses for travelling, miss. Mrs. St. Clare gave me a
+pattern of the material she would like, and I have been getting them.
+
+"Oh, for travelling," repeated Margaret, whose mind, what with one
+thing and another, was in a perfect whirl. "Will you like to go back,
+and try mine on now."
+
+But the dressmaker declined to turn back. She was nearer Trennach now
+than she was to The Mount, and her apprentice had no work to go on
+with until she arrived at home to set it for her. Appointing the
+following morning, she continued her way.
+
+Daisy continued hers. It was a most unlucky thing that the dressmaker
+should have gone to The Mount that morning of all others! What a fuss
+there would be! And what excuse could she make for her absence from
+home? There was only one, as it seemed to Daisy, that she could
+make--she had been out for a walk.
+
+But the shifting clouds had now gathered in a dense mass overhead, and
+the rain came pouring down. Daisy had brought no umbrella: nothing but
+a fashionable parasol about, large enough for a doll: one cannot be
+expected on such an occasion to be as provident as the renowned Mrs.
+McStinger. The wind took Daisy's cloak, as before; the drifting
+rain-storm half blinded her. Before she reached home, her pretty
+muslin dress, and her dainty parasol, and herself also, were wet
+through.
+
+"Now where have you been?" demanded Mrs. St. Clare, pouncing upon
+Daisy in the hall, and backed by Tabitha; whilst Lydia, who had that
+morning risen betimes, thanks to the exacting dressmaker, looked on
+from the door of the breakfast-room.
+
+"I went for a walk," gasped Daisy, fully believing all was about to be
+discovered. "The rain overtook me."
+
+"What a pickle you are in," commented Lydia.
+
+"_Where_ have you been for a walk?" proceeded Mrs. St. Clare, who was
+evidently angry.
+
+"Down the road," said Daisy, in an almost inaudible voice, the result
+of fear and emotion. "It--it is pleasant to walk a little before the
+heat comes on. I--I did not know it was going to rain."
+
+"Pray, how long is it since you found out that it is pleasant to walk
+a little before the heat comes on?" retorted Mrs. St. Clare, with
+severe sarcasm. "How many mornings have you tried it?"
+
+"Never before this morning, mamma," replied Daisy, with ready
+earnestness, for it was the truth.
+
+"_And pray with whom have you been walking?_" put in Lydia, with
+astounding emphasis. "Who brought you home?"
+
+"Not any one," choked Daisy, swallowing down her tears. "I walked home
+alone. You can ask Mrs. Hunt, who met me. Mamma, may I go up and
+change my things?"
+
+Mrs. St. Clare said neither yes nor no, but gave tacit permission by
+stretching out her hand towards the staircase. Daisy ran the gauntlet
+of the three faces as she passed on: her mother's was stern, Lydia's
+supremely scornful, Tabitha's discreetly prim. The two ladies turned
+into the breakfast-room, and the maid retired.
+
+"It is easy enough to divine what Daisy has been up to," spoke Lydia,
+whose speech was not always expressed in the most refined terms. She
+sat back in an easy-chair, sipping her chocolate, a pink cloak trimmed
+with swan's-down drawn over her shoulders; for the rain and the early
+rising had made her feel chilly.
+
+"Oh, I don't know," said Mrs. St. Clare, crossly. She detested these
+petty annoyances.
+
+"I do, though," returned Lydia. "Daisy has been out to meet Frank
+Raynor. Were I you, mamma, I should not allow her so much liberty."
+
+"Give me the sugar, Lydia, and let me take my breakfast in peace."
+
+Daisy, locking her door, burst into a fit of hysterical tears. Her
+nerves were utterly unstrung. It was necessary to change her garments,
+and she did so, sobbing wofully the while. She wished she had not done
+what she had done; she wished that Frank could be by her side to
+encourage and shield her. When she had completed her toilet, she took
+the wedding-ring from her finger, attached it to a bit of ribbon, and
+hid it in her bosom.
+
+"Suppose I should never, never be able to wear it openly?" thought
+Daisy, with a sob and a sigh. "Suppose Frank and I should never see
+each other again! never be able to be together? If mamma carries me
+off abroad, and he remains here, one of us might die before I come
+back again."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+UNDER THE STARS.
+
+
+"Can you spare me a moment, Frank?"
+
+"Fifty moments, if you like, Edina," was the answer in the
+ever-pleasant tones. "Come in."
+
+The day had gone on to its close, and Edina had found no opportunity
+of speaking to Frank alone. The secret of which she had unexpectedly
+gained cognizance that morning was troubling her mind. To be a party
+to it, and to keep that fact from Frank, was impossible to Edina. Tell
+him she must: and the sooner the better. After tea, he and the doctor
+had sat persistently talking together until dusk, when Frank had to go
+out to visit a fever-patient in Bleak Row. Running upstairs to change
+his coat, Edina had thought the opportunity had come, and followed him
+to his chamber.
+
+She went in after his hearty response to her knock. Frank, quick in
+all his movements, already had his coat off, and was taking the old
+one from the peg where it hung. Edina sat down by the dressing-table.
+
+"Frank," she said, in low tones--and she disliked very much indeed to
+have to say it, "I chanced to go into the church this morning soon
+after eight o'clock. I--I saw you there."
+
+"_Did_ you?" cried Frank, coming to a pause with his coat half on.
+"And--did you see anything else, Edina?"
+
+"I believe I saw all there was to see, Frank. I saw you standing with
+Margaret St. Clare at the altar-rails, and Mr. Backup marrying you.
+
+"Well, I never!" cried Frank, with all the amazing ease and equanimity
+he might have maintained had she said she saw him looking on at a
+christening. "Were you surprised, Edina?"
+
+"Surprised, and a great deal more, Frank. Shocked. Grieved."
+
+"I say, though, what took you to the church at that early hour,
+Edina?"
+
+"Chance, it may be said. Though I am one of those, you know, who do
+not believe that such a thing as chance exists. I went after Mrs.
+Trim, found her house shut up, and the thought she might be in the
+church, cleaning. Oh, Frank, how could you do anything so desperately
+imprudent?"
+
+"Well, I hardly know. Don't scold me, Edina."
+
+"I have no right to scold you," she answered. "And scolding would be
+of no use now the thing is done. Nevertheless, I must tell you what a
+very wrong step it was to take; lamentably imprudent: and I think you
+must, yourself, know that it was so. I could never have believed it of
+Margaret St. Clare."
+
+"Do not blame Daisy, Edina. I persuaded her to take it. Mrs. St. Clare
+has been talking of marching her off abroad; and we wanted, you see,
+to secure ourselves against separation."
+
+"And what are you going to do, Frank?"
+
+"Oh, nothing," said easy Frank. "Daisy's gone back to The Mount, and I
+am here as usual. As soon as I can make a home for her, I shall take
+her away."
+
+"Make a home where?"
+
+"In some place where there's a likelihood of a good practice. London,
+I dare say."
+
+"But how are you to live? A good practice does not spring up in a
+night, like a mushroom."
+
+"That's arranged," replied Frank, as perfectly confident himself that
+it was arranged as that Edina was sitting in the low chair, and he was
+finally settling himself into his coat. "My plans are all laid, Edina,
+and Uncle Hugh knows what they are. It was in pursuance of them that I
+went over to Spring Lawn. I will tell you all about it to-morrow:
+there's no time to do so now."
+
+"Papa does not know of what took place this morning?"
+
+"No. No one knows of that. We don't want it known, if we can help it,
+until the time comes when all the world may know."
+
+"Meaning until you have gained the home, Frank?"
+
+"Meaning until I and Daisy enter upon it," said sanguine Frank.
+
+Edina's hand--her elbow resting on her knee--was raised to support her
+head: her fingers played absently with her soft brown hair: her dark
+thoughtful eyes, gazing before her, seemed to see nothing. Whether it
+arose from the fact that in her early days, when Dr. Raynor's means
+were narrow, she had become practically acquainted with some dark
+phases of existence, or whether it was the blight that had been cast
+on her heart in its sweet spring-time, certain it was, that Edina
+Raynor was no longer of a sanguine nature. Where Frank saw only
+sunshine in prospective, she saw shadow. And a great deal of it.
+
+"You should have made sure of the home first."
+
+"Before making sure of Daisy? Not a bit of it, Edina. We shall get
+along."
+
+"That's just like you, Frank," she exclaimed petulantly, in her
+vexation. "You would as soon marry ten wives as one, the law allowing
+it, so far as never giving a thought to what you were to do with
+them."
+
+"But the law would not allow it," laughed Frank.
+
+"It is your great fault--never to think of consequences."
+
+"Time enough, Edina, when the consequences come."
+
+She did not make any rejoinder. To what use? Frank Raynor would be
+Frank Raynor to the end of time. It was his nature.
+
+"It is odd, though, is it not, that you, of all Trennach, should just
+happen to have caught us?" he exclaimed, alluding to the ceremony of
+the morning. "But you'll not betray us, Edina? I must be off down, or
+Uncle Hugh will be calling to know what I'm doing."
+
+Edina rose, with a sigh. "No, I will not betray you, Frank: you know
+there is no danger of that: and if I can help you and Daisy in any
+way, I will do it. I was obliged to tell you what I had seen. I could
+not keep from you the fact that it had come to my knowledge."
+
+As Frank leaped downstairs, light-hearted as a boy, Dr. Raynor was
+crossing from the sitting-room to the surgery. He halted to speak.
+
+"I forgot to tell you, Frank, that you may as well call this evening
+on Dame Bell: you will be passing her door."
+
+"Is Dame Bell ill again?" asked Frank.
+
+"I fear so. A woman came for some medicine for her to-day."
+
+"I thought she was at Falmouth."
+
+"She is back again, it seems. Call and see her as you go along: you
+have plenty of time."
+
+"Very well, Uncle Hugh."
+
+The Bare Plain might be said to specially deserve its name this
+evening as Frank traversed it. In the morning the wind had been high,
+but nothing to what it was now. It played amidst the openings
+surrounding the Bottomless Shaft, going in with a whirr, coming out
+with a rush, and shrieked and moaned fearfully. The popular belief
+indulged in by the miners was, that this unearthly shrieking and
+moaning, which generally disturbed the air on these boisterous nights,
+proceeded not from the wind, but from Dan Sandon's ghost. Frank Raynor
+of course had no faith in the ghost--Dan Sandon's, or any other--but
+he shuddered as he hastened on.
+
+The illness, more incipient than declared as yet, from which Mrs. Bell
+was suffering, had seemed to cease with her trouble. Her husband's
+mysterious disappearance was followed by much necessary exertion, both
+of mind and body, on her own part; and her ailments almost left her.
+Dr. Raynor suspected--perhaps knew--that the improvement was only
+temporary; but he did not tell her so. Dame Bell moved briskly about
+her house during this time, providing for the comforts of her lodgers,
+and waiting for the husband who did not come.
+
+Rosaline did not come, either. And her prolonged absence seemed to her
+mother most unaccountable, her excuses for it unreasonable. As the
+days and the weeks had gone on, and Rosaline's return seemed to be no
+nearer than ever, Dame Bell grew angry. She at length made up her mind
+to go to Falmouth and bring back the runaway with her own hands.
+
+Easier said than done: as Mrs. Bell found. When after two days'
+absence, she returned to her home on the Bare Plain, she returned
+alone: her daughter was not with her. This was only a few days ago.
+The dame had been ailing ever since, some of the old symptoms having
+returned again--the result perhaps of the travelling--and she had that
+day sent a neighbour to Dr. Raynor's for some medicine.
+
+Frank Raynor made the best of his way across the windy plain, and
+lifted the latch of Dame Bell's door. She stood at the table, ironing
+by candle-light, her feet resting upon an old thick mat to keep them
+from any draught. Frank, making himself at home as usual, sat down by
+the ironing-board, telling her to go on with her occupation, and
+inquired into her ailments.
+
+"You ought not to have taken the journey," said Frank, promptly, when
+questions and answers were over. "Travelling is not good for you."
+
+"But I could not help taking it," returned Dame Bell, beginning upon
+the wristbands of a shirt she was ironing. "When Rosaline never came
+home, and paid no attention to my ordering her to come home, it was
+time I went to see after her."
+
+"She has not come back with you?"
+
+"No, she has not," retorted Dame Bell, ironing away with a viciousness
+that imperilled the wristband. "I couldn't make her come, Mr. Frank.
+Cords would not have dragged her. Of all the idiots! to let those
+Whistlers frighten her from a place for good, like that!"
+
+"The Whistlers?" mechanically repeated Frank, his eyes fixed on the
+progress of the ironing.
+
+"It's the Whistlers, and nothing else," said Mrs. Bell. "I didn't send
+word to her or her aunt that I was on my way to Falmouth: I thought
+I'd take 'em by surprise. And I declare to you, Mr. Frank, I hardly
+believed my eyes when I saw Rosaline. It did give me a turn. I was
+that shocked----"
+
+"But why?" interrupted Frank.
+
+"She's just as thin as a herring. You wouldn't know her, sir. When I
+got to the place, there was John Pellet's shop-window flaming away,
+and lighting up the tins and fire-irons, and all that, which he shows
+in it. I opened the side-door, and went straight up the stairs to the
+room overhead, knowing I should most likely find Rosaline there, for
+it's the room where my sister Pellet does her millinery work. My
+sister was there, standing with her back to me, a bonnet on each of
+her outstretched hands, as if she was comparing the blue bows in one
+with the pink bows in the other; and close to the middle table,
+putting some flowers in another bonnet, was a young woman in black. I
+didn't know her at first. The gas was right on her face, but I declare
+that I didn't know her. She looked straight over at me, and I thought
+what a white and thin and pretty face it, was, with large violet eyes
+and dark circles round 'em: but as true as you are there, Mr. Frank, I
+didn't know her for Rosaline. 'Mother!' says she, starting up: and I
+a'most fell on the nearest chair. 'What ever has come to you, child?'
+I says, as she steps round to kiss me! 'you look as though you had one
+foot in the grave.' At that she turns as red as a rose: and what with
+the bright colour, and the smile she gave, she looked a little more
+like herself. But there: if I talked till I tired you, sir, I could
+make out no more than that: she's looking desperately ill and
+wretched, and she won't come home again."
+
+Frank made no rejoinder. The ironing went on vigorously: and Mrs.
+Bell's narrative with it.
+
+"All I could say was of no use: back with me she wouldn't consent to
+come. All her aunt could say was of no use. For, when she found how
+lonely I was at home, and how much I wanted Rosaline, my sister,
+though loth to part with her, said nature was nature, and a girl
+should not go against her mother. But no persuasion would bring
+Rosaline to reason. She'd live with me, and glad to, she said, if I'd
+go and stay at Falmouth, but she could not come back to Trennach.
+Pellet and his wife both tried to turn her: all in vain."
+
+"Did she give any reason for not coming back?" questioned Frank: and
+one, more observant than Dame Bell, might have been struck with the
+low, subdued tones he spoke in.
+
+"She gave no reason of her own accord, Mr. Frank, but I got it out of
+her. 'What has Trennach done to you, and what has the old house on the
+Plain done to you, that you should be frightened at it?' I said to
+her. For it's easy to gather that she is frightened in her mind, Mr.
+Frank, and Pellet's wife had noticed the same ever since she went
+there. 'Don't say such things, mother,' says she, 'it is nothing.'
+'But I will say it,' says I, 'and I know the cause--just the shock you
+had that Tuesday night from the Seven Whistlers, and a fear that you
+might hear them again if you came back; and a fine simpleton you must
+be for your pains!' And so she is."
+
+"Ah, yes, the Seven Whistlers," repeated Frank, absently.
+
+"She could not contradict me. She only burst into tears and begged of
+me not to talk of them. Not talk, indeed! I could have shook her, I
+could!"
+
+"We cannot help our fears," said Frank.
+
+"But for a girl to let they sounds scare her out of house and home and
+country, is downright folly," pursued Dame Bell, unable to relinquish
+the theme, and splitting the button of the shirt-collar in two at one
+stroke of the angry iron. "And she must fright and fret herself into a
+skeleton besides! But there," she resumed, in easier tones, after
+folding the shirt, "I suppose she can't help it. Her father was just
+as much afraid of 'em. He never had an atom o' colour in his face from
+the Sunday night he heard the Whistlers till the Tuesday night when he
+disappeared. It had a curious grey look on it all the while."
+
+Frank rose. He remembered the grey look well enough. "If Rosaline
+likes Falmouth best, she is better there, Mrs. Bell. I should not
+press her to return."
+
+"If pressing would do any good, she'd have her share of it," rejoined
+Mrs. Bell, candidly. "But it won't. I did press, for the matter of
+that. When I'd done pressing on my score, I put it on the score of her
+father. 'Don't you care to be at home to welcome your poor lost father
+when he gets back to it--for he's sure to come back, sooner or later,'
+says I: and I'm sure my eyes ran tears as I spoke. But no: she just
+turned as white as the grave, Mr. Frank, and shook her head in a
+certain solemn way of hers, which she must have picked up at Falmouth:
+and I saw it was of no use, though I talked till doomsday. There she
+stops, and there she will stop, and I must make the best of it. And I
+wish those evil Whistlers had been at the bottom of the sea!"
+
+Frank was in a hurry to depart: but she went on again, after taking
+breath.
+
+"She is earning money, and her aunt is glad to have her, and takes
+care of her, and she says she never saw any girl so expert with her
+fingers and display so much taste in bonnets as Rosaline. But that
+does not mend the matter here, Mr. Frank, and is no excuse for her
+being such a goose. 'Come and take a room in Falmouth, mother,' were
+her last words when I was leaving. But I'd like to know what a poor
+lone body like me could do in that strange place."
+
+"Well, good-evening, Mrs. Bell," said Frank, escaping to the door. But
+the loquacious tongue had not quite finished.
+
+"When I was coming back in the train, Mr. Frank, the thought kept
+running in my mind that perhaps Bell would have got home whilst I'd
+been away: and when I looked round the empty house, and saw he was not
+here, a queer feeling of disappointment came over me. Do you think he
+ever will come back, sir?"
+
+Some "queer feeling" seemed to take Frank at the question, and stop
+his breath. He spoke a few words indistinctly in answer. Mrs. Bell did
+not catch them.
+
+"And whether it was through that--expecting to see him and the
+consequent disappointment--I don't know, Mr. Frank; but since then I
+can't get him out of my mind. Day and night, Bell is in it. I am
+beginning to dream of him: and that's what I have not done yet. Nancy
+Tomson says it's a good sign. Should you say it was, sir?"
+
+"I--really don't know," was Frank's unsatisfactory reply. And then he
+succeeded in making his final exit.
+
+"I wish she wouldn't bring up her husband to me!" he cried, lifting
+his hat that his brow might get a little of the fresh wind, which blew
+less fiercely under the cottages. "Somehow she nearly always does it.
+I hate to cross the threshold."
+
+A week or two went on: a week or two of charming weather and calm blue
+skies: The day fixed for the departure of Mrs. St. Clare from The
+Mount came and passed, and she was still at home, and likely to be
+there for some time to come. "Man proposes, but Heaven disposes."
+Every day of our lives we have fresh proofs of that great fact.
+
+On the very day of Daisy's impromptu wedding, her sister Lydia showed
+herself more than usually ailing and grumbling. She felt cold and
+shivery, and sat in the pink cloak all day. The next morning she
+seemed really ill, not fancifully so, was hot and cold alternately.
+Dr. Raynor was sent for. The attack turned out to be one of fever. Not
+as yet of infectious fever--and Dr. Raynor hoped he should prevent its
+going on to that. But it was rather severe, and required careful
+watching and nursing.
+
+Of course their departure for foreign lands was out of the question.
+They could not leave The Mount. Mrs. St. Clare, who was very anxious,
+for she dreaded a visitation of infectious fever more than anything
+else, spent most of her time in Lydia's room. Once in a way, Frank
+Raynor appeared at The Mount in his uncle's place. Dr. Raynor was
+fully given to understand that his own attendance was requested, not
+his nephew's: but he was himself getting to feel worse day by day; he
+could not always go over, walking or riding; and on those occasions
+Frank went instead. Mrs. St. Clare permitted what, as it appeared,
+there was no remedy for, and was coldly civil to the young doctor.
+
+But this illness of Lydia's, and Mrs. St. Clare's close attendance in
+her room, gave more liberty to Daisy. Scarcely an evening passed but
+she, unsuspected and unwatched, was pacing the shrubberies and the
+secluded parts of that wilderness of a garden with Frank. There,
+arm-in-arm, they walked, and talked together of the hopeful future,
+and the enchanted hours seemed to fly on golden wings.
+
+
+  "Love took up the glass of Time, and turned it in his glowing hands,
+   Every moment, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden sands.
+   Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with
+      might,
+   Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of
+      sight."
+
+
+Whatever of reality, of fruition, the future might bring, it could
+never be to them what this present time was, when they wandered
+together in the sweet moonlight, with the scent of the night-flowers
+around them, and the soft sighing wind, and the heart's romance.
+
+Never an evening but Daisy stole out to watch from the sheltered gate
+for the coming of her lover; scarcely an evening that Frank failed to
+come. When he did fail, it was through no fault of his. Daisy would
+linger and linger on, waiting and watching, even when all sensible
+hope of his coming must have died out; and when compelled to return
+indoors with a reluctant step, she would think fate cruel to her, and
+sigh heavily.
+
+"The time may come when we shall live with each other and be together
+always, in place of just this little evening walk up and down the
+paths--and oh, how I wish the time was come now!" poor Daisy would say
+to her own heart.
+
+One evening it was Daisy who failed to be at the trysting-place. Lydia
+was getting better, was able to sit up a little, morning and evening.
+The greater danger, feared for her, had been prevented: and under her
+own good constitution--for she had one, in spite of her grumblings and
+her imaginary ailments--and Dr. Raynor's successful treatment, she was
+recovering rapidly. This evening, lying back in an easy-chair, it had
+pleased her to order Daisy to read to her. Daisy complied willingly:
+she was ever more ready to help Lydia than Lydia was to accept her
+help; but when a long spell of reading had been got through, and the
+room was growing dim, Daisy, coming to the end of a chapter, closed
+the book.
+
+"What's that for?" asked Lydia, sharply, whose peevishness was coming
+back to her with her advance towards convalescence. "Read on, please."
+
+"It is growing dusk," said Daisy.
+
+"Dusk--for that large print!--nonsense," retorted Lydia. The book was
+a popular novel, and she felt interested in it.
+
+"I am tired, Lydia: you don't consider how long I have been reading,"
+cried Daisy, fretting inwardly: for the twilight hour was her lover's
+signal for approach, and she knew he must be already waiting for her.
+
+"You have only been reading since dinner," debated Lydia: "not much
+more than an hour, I'm sure. Go on."
+
+So Daisy was obliged to go on. She dared not display too much anxiety
+to get away, lest it might betray that she had some motive for wishing
+it. A secret makes us terribly self-conscious. But by-and-by it really
+became too dark to see even the large print of the fashionable novel
+of the day, and Lydia exhibited signs of weariness; and Mrs. St.
+Clare, who had been dozing in another arm-chair, woke up and said
+Lydia must not listen any longer. Daisy ran down to the yellow room,
+and sped swiftly through the open glass-doors.
+
+It was nearly as dark as it would be. The stars were shining; a lovely
+opal colour lingered yet in the west. Frank Raynor, hands in pockets,
+and whistling softly under his breath, stood in the sheltered walk. A
+somewhat broad walk, where the trees met overhead. Daisy flung herself
+into his arms, and burst into tears. Tried almost beyond bearing by
+her forced detention, it was thus her emotion, combined perhaps with a
+little temper, expended itself.
+
+"Why, Daisy! What is the matter?"
+
+"I could not get to you, Frank. Lydia kept me in, reading to her, all
+this time."
+
+"Never mind, my darling, now you have come."
+
+"I thought you would go away; I feared you might think I forgot, or
+something," sighed Daisy.
+
+"As if I could think that! Dry your eyes, my dear one."
+
+Placing her arm within his, Frank led her forward, and they began, as
+usual, to pace the walk. It was their favourite promenade; for it was
+so retired and sheltered that they felt pretty safe from intruders.
+There, linked arm-in-arm, or with Frank's arm round her waist, as
+might be, they paced to and fro; the friendly stars shining down upon
+them through the branches overhead.
+
+Their theme was ever the same--the future. The hopeful future, that to
+their eyes looked brighter than those twinkling stars. What was it to
+be for them, and how might they, in their enthusiasm, plan it out?
+In what manner could Frank best proceed, so as to secure speedily a
+home-tent, and be able to declare to the world that he and Margaret
+St. Clare had spent a quarter-of-an-hour in the grey old church at
+Trennach one windy morning, when he had earned the right to take her
+away with him and cherish her for life?
+
+To this end the whole of their consultations tended; on this one
+desired project all their deliberations centred. The sooner Frank
+could get away from Trennach, the sooner (as they both so hopefully
+believed) would it be realized. Never a shadow of doubt crossed either
+of them in regard to it. Frank was too sanguine, Daisy too
+inexperienced, to see any clouds in their sky. The days to come were
+to be days of brightness: and both were supremely unconscious that
+such days never return after the swift passing of life's fair first
+morning.
+
+"You see, Daisy, the delay is not my fault," spoke Frank. "My uncle
+has been so very unwell this last week or two, so much worse, that I
+don't like to urge the change upon him. Only to-day I said to him,
+'You know I am wanting to leave you, Uncle Hugh,' and his reply was,
+'Do not speak of it just immediately, Frank: let things be as they are
+a very little longer.' Whilst he is feeling so ill, I scarcely like to
+worry him."
+
+"Of course not," said Daisy. "And as long as I can walk about here
+with you every evening, Frank, I don't care how long things go on as
+they are now. It was different when I feared mamma was going to carry
+me off to the end of the world. It was only that fear, you know,
+Frank, that made me consent to do what I did that morning. I'm sure I
+tremble yet when I think how wrong and hazardous it was. Any one might
+have come into the church."
+
+"Where's your wedding-ring, Daisy?" he asked: and it may as well be
+said that he had never told her some one did come in.
+
+"Here," she answered, touching her dress. "It is always there, Frank."
+
+"I have written to-day to a friend of mine in London, Daisy, asking if
+he knows of any good opening for me--or of any old practitioner in a
+first-class quarter who may be likely to want some younger man to help
+him. I dare say I shall receive an answer with some news in it in a
+day or two."
+
+"I dare say you will. Who is he, Frank?"
+
+"A young fellow named Crisp, who has the best heart in the world.
+He----"
+
+A sudden grasping of his arm by Daisy, just after they had turned in
+their walk; a visible shrinking, as if she would hide behind him; and
+a faint idea that he saw some slight movement of the foliage at the
+other end of the avenue, stopped Frank's further words.
+
+"Did you see, Frank?" she whispered. "Did you see?"
+
+"I fancied something stirred, down there. What was it?"
+
+"It was Tabitha. I am certain of it. I saw her the moment we turned.
+She might have been watching us ever so long; all the way up the walk;
+I dare say she _was_ doing so. Oh, Frank, what shall I do? She will go
+in and tell mamma."
+
+"Let her," said Frank. "The worst she can say is, that we were walking
+arm-in-arm together. I cannot think why you need be so fearful, Daisy.
+Your mother must know that we do meet out here, and she must tacitly
+sanction it. She used to know it, and sanction it too."
+
+Daisy sighed. Yes, she thought, her mother might, at any rate, suspect
+that they met. It was not so much _that_ which Daisy feared. But, the
+one private act she had been guilty of lay heavily on her conscience;
+and she was ever haunted with the dread that any fresh movement would
+lead to its betrayal.
+
+Saying good-night to each other, for it was growing late, Frank
+departed, and Daisy went in. Her mother was shut up in the
+drawing-room, and she went on straight to her sister's chamber. There
+an unpleasant scene awaited her. Lydia, not yet in bed--for she had
+refused to go, and had abused Tabitha for urging it--lay back still in
+the easy-chair. Could looks have annihilated, Daisy would certainly
+have sunk from those cast on her by Lydia, as she entered.
+
+And then the storm began. Lydia reproached her in no measured terms,
+and with utter scorn of tone and manner, for the "clandestine
+intimacy," as she was pleased to call it, that she, Daisy, was
+carrying on with Frank Raynor.
+
+It appeared that after the candles were lighted, and Mrs. St. Clare
+had gone down, Lydia, declining to go to bed, and wanting to be
+amused, required Daisy to read to her again. Tabitha was sent in
+search of Daisy, and came back saying she could not find her anywhere:
+she was not downstairs, she was not in her chamber. "Go and look in
+the garden, you stupid thing," retorted Lydia: "you know Miss Daisy's
+for ever out there." Tabitha--a meek woman in demeanour, who took
+abuse humbly--went to the garden as directed, searched, and at length
+came upon Miss Daisy in the avenue, pacing it on the arm of Mr.
+Raynor. Back she went, and reported it to Lydia. And now Lydia was
+reproaching her.
+
+"To suffer yourself to meet that man clandestinely after night has
+fallen!" reiterated Lydia. "And to stay out with him!--and to take his
+arm! You disgraceful girl! And when, all the while, he does not care
+one jot for _you!_ He loves some one else."
+
+Daisy had received the tirade on herself in silence, but she fired up
+at this. "You have no right to say _that_, Lydia," she cried. "Whether
+he loves me, or not, I shall not say; but, at any rate, he does not
+love any one else."
+
+"Yes, he does," affirmed Lydia.
+
+"He does not," fired Daisy. "If he does, who is it?"
+
+"No one in his own station--more shame to him! It is that girl they
+call so beautiful--who lost her father. Rose--Rose--what's the
+name?--Rosaline Bell. Frank Raynor loves her with his whole heart and
+soul."
+
+"Lydia, how dare you say such a thing?"
+
+"_I_ don't say it. I only repeat it. Ask Trennach. It is known all
+over the place. They used to be always together--walking on the Bare
+Plain by night. The girl has gone away for a time; and the gentleman,
+during her absence, amuses himself with you. Makes love to you to keep
+his hand in."
+
+Daisy's heart turned sick and faint within her. Not at Lydia's supreme
+sarcasm, but at the horrible conviction that there must be something
+in the tale. She remembered the past evening at the dinner-table--and
+the recollection came rushing into her mind like a barbed arrow--when
+Sir Arthur Beauchamp and others were questioning Frank about this very
+girl and her beauty, and she--Daisy--had been struck with the emotion
+he betrayed; with his evidently shrinking manner, with the changing
+hue of his face. Did he in truth love this girl, Rosaline Bell?--and
+was she so very beautiful?
+
+"How did you hear this, Lydia?" asked Daisy, in tones from which all
+spirit was quenched.
+
+"I heard it from Tabitha. She knows about it. You can ask her
+yourself."
+
+And Daisy did ask. As it chanced, the maid at that moment entered the
+room with some beef-tea for Lydia; and Daisy, suppressing her pride
+and her reticence, condescended to question her. Tabitha answered
+freely and readily, as if there were nothing in the subject to
+conceal, and with a palpable belief in its truth that told terribly
+upon Daisy. In fact, the woman herself implicitly believed it. Mr.
+Blase Pellet had once favoured her with his version of the story, and
+Tabitha never supposed that that version existed in Mr. Pellet's own
+imagination, and in that alone.
+
+"I--don't think it can be _true_, Tabitha," faltered poor Daisy, her
+heart beating wildly. "She was not a lady."
+
+"It's true enough, Miss Margaret. Blase Pellet wanted her himself, but
+she'd have nothing to say to him--or to any one else except Mr.
+Raynor. Pellet is related to the Bells, and knew all about it. What he
+said to me was this: 'Raynor is after her for ever, day and night, and
+she worships the ground he treads on!' Those were his very words, Miss
+Margaret."
+
+Margaret, turning hot and cold, and red and white, made her escape
+from the room, and took refuge in her own. In that first moment of
+awakening, she felt as though her heart must break with its bitter
+pain. Jealousy, baleful jealousy, had taken possession of her: and no
+other passion in this life can prey upon our bosoms so relentlessly,
+or touch them with so keen a sting.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+IN THE CHURCHYARD.
+
+
+Trennach churchyard was lonely at all times, but it looked
+particularly so in the twilight of a dull evening. The trees took
+fantastic shapes; the headstones stood out like spectres; the
+grave-mounds reminded you unpleasantly that you yourself must sometime
+lie beneath them.
+
+Especially grey were the skies this evening; for, though it was summer
+weather, the day had been gloomy: and Mr. Blase Pellet, sitting in the
+middle of the churchyard on the stump of an old tree, looked grey and
+gloomy as the weather and the graves.
+
+Since the departure from Trennach of Rosaline Bell--for whom Mr. Blase
+Pellet did undoubtedly entertain a fond and sincere affection,
+whatever might have been his shortcomings generally--he had found his
+evening hours, when the chemist's shop was closed for the night, hang
+heavily on his hands. With the absence of Rosaline, the two chief
+relaxations in which Mr. Blase had employed his leisure were gone:
+namely, the cunning contrivances to meet her, either at home or
+abroad; and watching the movements of Frank Raynor. The young man's
+jealousy of the latter and Rosaline burnt as fiercely as ever,
+tormenting him to a most unreasonable degree: though, indeed, when was
+jealousy ever amenable to reason? There was no longer any personal
+intercourse between Frank Raynor and Rosaline; Blase knew quite well
+that could not be, for Frank was at Trennach, and she was at Falmouth;
+but he had felt as sure, ever since she went, that their intercourse
+was carried on by letter, as that he was now sitting on the stump of
+the old tree.
+
+Jealousy needs no proof to confirm its fancies: our great master-mind
+has told us that it makes the food it feeds on. And upon this airy,
+unsubstantial kind of food had Mr. Pellet been nourishing his
+suspicions of the supposed correspondence--which existed in his
+imagination alone. He had watched the postman in a morning, he had
+waylaid him, and by apparently artless questions had got him to
+disclose to whom the letter was addressed which he had just left at
+Dr. Raynor's: and the less proof he could find of the suspected postal
+intercourse, the brighter his jealousy burned. For it was not often
+that the postman could say the letter, which he might have chanced to
+leave at the doctor's house, was for Mr. Frank Raynor. Sometimes it
+would be for the doctor himself, sometimes for Miss Raynor; but very
+rarely for Frank. Frank's correspondence did not seem to be an
+extensive one. This might possibly have satisfied an ordinary young
+man; it only tended to strengthen Mr. Blase Pellet's raging doubts:
+and now, on this ill-favoured evening, those doubts had received
+"confirmation strong as proofs of holy writ."
+
+Since, like Othello, he had found his occupation gone, Mr. Blase
+Pellet was rather at a loss to know what to do with his evenings. To
+render him justice, it must be admitted that he did not follow the
+fashion, and spend them, however soberly, at the Golden Shaft. He was
+a steady, well-conducted young man, superior to his apparent position,
+and better in some respects than many of his neighbours. Finding the
+hours lying on his hands, he took to looking in unceremoniously at the
+houses of his acquaintances, so to pass a more or less agreeable
+interlude. This evening he had so favoured Clerk Trim; and it was in
+crossing the churchyard, after quitting that functionary's dwelling,
+that he had come to an anchor on the tree-stump. Bitter anger was
+aroused within him; raging jealousy; a tumultuous thirst for revenge.
+For, in the clerk's house he had just been furnished, as he believed,
+with the confirmation yearned for.
+
+When Frank Raynor had so lightly sent Clerk Trim to Tello, to inquire
+for certain imaginary letters at the post-office there, he little
+thought what grave consequences would arise from it in the future.
+Simply for the sake of getting the clerk out of the way during the
+ceremony of the stolen marriage, he had invented this fruitless
+errand. When the clerk came back in the course of the day, and
+reported that no letter was lying for him at the post-office at Tello,
+the man added, "And I've taken care not to mention to a soul, sir,
+where I have been, as you desired; neither will I." "Oh, thank you,
+but I don't in the least mind now whether you mention it or not,"
+rejoined Frank, in the openness of his heart. For, his object
+attained, it did not matter to him if the whole world knew that he had
+sent the clerk to Tello.
+
+Clerk Trim, naturally a silent man, had experienced no temptation to
+mention it, in spite of the release given him: but on this evening,
+talking with Blase Pellet of Tello, he chanced to say that he had been
+there not long ago. Mr. Blase expressed some surprise at this, knowing
+that journeys were rare events with the clerk; and then Trim mentioned
+what he had gone for: to inquire for a letter at the Tello post-office
+for Mr. Frank Raynor.
+
+That was enough. And a great deal more than enough. Blase instantly
+jumped to the conclusion that it was through the Tello post-office
+that the correspondence with Rosaline was carried on. And perhaps it
+was not unnatural that he should think so. The scarcity of letters
+arriving for Frank at Trennach was accounted for now.
+
+Forth he came, boiling and bursting, crossed the stile, and dropped
+down on the tree-stump, unable to get any farther. The very fact of
+the correspondence being carried on clandestinely made it more cruel
+for him. With his bitter indignation mingled a great deal of despair.
+In that one miserable moment he began to see that he might indeed lose
+Rosaline. To lose her would have been anguish unspeakable; but to see
+another gain her was simply torment--and that other the detested
+gentleman, Frank Raynor. Blase Pellet had not a very clear idea of
+social distinctions, and he saw no particular incongruity in Frank's
+making her his wife.
+
+"I've kept quiet as yet about that past night's work;" said Mr. Pellet
+to himself, "but I'll speak now. I kept quiet for her sake, knowing
+what pain it would bring her; not for his; and because----"
+
+"Well, any way," he resumed, after the long pause which succeeded his
+sudden break-off, "I must feel my way in it. If I could only drive him
+away from Cornwall for good, that would be enough; and then I'd draw
+in again. I heard him tell old Float that he meant to be off to London
+soon and settle there: let him go, and leave me and Rose and these
+parts alone. I'll help to start him there; and when he's gone I'll
+keep silent again. But now--how much will it be safe to say?--and
+_what_ can I say?--and how can I set about it?"
+
+Leaning forward, his hands placed on his knees, pressing them almost
+to pain, his eyes fixed on the opposite hedge, he went on with his
+thoughts. Blase Pellet was of an extremely concentrative nature: he
+could revolve and debate doubts and difficulties in his own mind,
+until he saw his way to bringing them out straight in the end, just as
+patiently and successfully as a Cambridge student will work out a
+problem in mathematics. But the difficulty Blase was trying to solve
+now was not an easy one.
+
+"I _can't_ say I saw it," debated he. "I can't say I heard it. If I
+did, people would ask five hundred questions as to where I was, and
+how it came about, and why I did not give the alarm--and I might have
+to tell all. I don't care to do that. I won't do it, unless I'm
+forced. Let him go away and leave her alone hereafter, and he shall
+get off scot-free for me. If I told of him, I should have to tell of
+her--that she was present--and she wouldn't like it; neither should I,
+for I'd be sorry to bring pain and exposure on her. She ought to have
+denounced him at the time--and she was a regular simpleton for not
+doing it: but still it would not be pleasant for me to be the one to
+complain that she was there and witnessed it all. No, no: I may not
+say I know _that_: I dare not say I was a witness myself. I must find
+some other way."
+
+The other way seemed to be very far off. Mr. Pellet took his eyes from
+the hedge, and his hands from his knees; but only to fix them on the
+same places again. The stump of the tree was as uneasy a seat as its
+once green and flourishing topmost bough must have been, to judge by
+the restlessness that was upon him as he sat there.
+
+"Could I say I dreamt it?" cried he, suddenly, ceasing his shuffling,
+and holding his head bolt upright. "_Could_ I? I don't see any other
+way. Let's think it out a bit."
+
+The thinking out took a tolerably long time yet, and Mr. Pellet did
+not seem altogether to like his idea. It was very nearly dark when he
+at length rose from the stump, sighing heavily.
+
+"I must be uncommonly cautious," said he. "But it's just one of those
+ticklish things that admit of no openings but one. If Rosaline got to
+know that I saw--and told--she'd just fling me over for ever. I think
+a word or two of suspicion will be enough to drive him away, and
+that's all I want."
+
+Now, in the main, Blase Pellet was not a hard-hearted or vindictive
+young man. His resentment against Frank Raynor arose from jealousy.
+Even that resentment, bitter though it was, he did not intend, or
+wish, to gratify to anything like its full extent. Believing that
+certain testimony of his could place Frank's neck in jeopardy, he
+might surely be given credit for holding his tongue. It is true that
+his caution arose from mixed motives: the dread of exasperating or in
+any way compromising Rosaline; the dislike to mixing himself up with
+the doings of that past night; and the genuine horror of bringing any
+man to so dire a punishment, even though that man were Frank Raynor.
+
+Pondering upon these various doubts and difficulties, and failing to
+feel reassured upon them in his own mind--or rather upon the result if
+he moved in the matter--Mr. Pellet went slowly home through the dark
+and deserted street; and ascended straight to his chamber, which was
+an attic in the roof. There, he came to an anchor by the side of
+his low bed in much the same musing attitude that he had sat on the
+tree-stump, and "thought it out" again.
+
+"Yes, it must be a dream," he decided at length, beginning to take off
+his coat preparatory to retiring. "There is no other way. I must not
+say I was there and saw it--they'd turn round upon me and cry, Why did
+you not tell at the time?--and what could I answer? Moreover, I can't,
+and I won't bring in Rosaline's name--which I should have to do if I
+stated the truth outright. But I can say I dreamt that Bell is lying
+at the bottom of the shaft; and keep up the commotion for a short
+while. They can't turn round on me for _that_. Folks do dream, as all
+the world knows."
+
+With this final resolve, Mr. Blase Pellet retired to bed, to dream
+real dreams instead of inventing them.
+
+
+As the days went on at The Mount, the lovers' meetings became more
+rare. Far from being able to steal out every evening, Margaret found
+that she could hardly get out at all. She was virtually a prisoner, as
+far as her evening's liberty was concerned. Either she had to remain
+in, reading to Lydia, or playing cards with her, or else Mrs. St.
+Clare would have her in the drawing-room. Upon only half a movement of
+Daisy's towards the open glass-doors, Mrs. St. Clare would say: "You
+cannot go out in the evening air, Daisy: I shall have you ill next."
+
+Evening after evening Frank Raynor betook himself to the grounds about
+The Mount, and lingered in their wilderness, waiting for Daisy.
+Evening after evening he had to return as he came, without having seen
+her. But one evening, when his patience was exhausted, and he had
+taken the first step for departure, Daisy came flying through the
+trees and fell into his arms.
+
+"I was determined to come," she said, with a nervous catching of the
+breath. "I am watched, Frank; I am perpetually hindered. Mamma has
+just gone to her room with a headache, and I ran out. Oh, Frank, this
+cannot go on. I have so wanted to see you."
+
+"It has been uncommonly hard, I can tell you, Daisy, to come here, one
+evening after another, and to have to go back as I came."
+
+"This is the _first_ opportunity I have had. It is indeed, Frank. And
+if that Tabitha should come prying into the drawing-room, as I know
+she will, and finds me gone out of it, I don't care. No, I don't."
+
+He took her upon his arm and they paced together as formerly. The moon
+was bright to-night, and flickered through the leaves on to Daisy's
+head.
+
+"Of course this cannot go on," observed Frank, in assent to what she
+had just said. "I should make a move at once, but for one thing."
+
+"What sort of move?"
+
+"Leaving Trennach. The reason I have not done so, is this, Daisy. In
+speaking again the other morning to my uncle, telling him that I must
+go to London, he made no further opposition to it: only, he begged me
+to remain with him until Edina returned----"
+
+"Where is she going?" interrupted Daisy.
+
+"To Bath. On a week or ten days' visit to Major and Mrs. Raynor.
+Daisy, I should not _like_ to leave my uncle alone; he is not well
+enough to be left; and therefore I will stay as he wishes. But as soon
+as Edina is back again, I will go to London, and see about our future
+home."
+
+"Yes," said Daisy. "Yes."
+
+She spoke rather absently. Indeed, in spite of the first emotion, she
+appeared to be less lively than usual; more preoccupied. The fact was,
+she wanted to ask Frank a question or two, and did not know how to do
+it.
+
+"Edina goes to-morrow," he resumed. "She intends to be back in a
+week's time; but I give her a day or two longer, for I know how
+unwilling they always are at Spring Lawn to let her come away. After
+that, I wind up with the doctor, and go to London. And it will not be
+very long then, Daisy, before I return to claim you. I shall soon get
+settled, once I am on the spot and looking out: the grass will not
+grow under my feet. It won't take above a week or two."
+
+How sanguine he was! Not a shadow of doubt rested on his mind that the
+"week or two" would see him well established. Daisy did not answer.
+Had Frank chanced to turn his head as they walked, he would have seen
+how white her face was.
+
+It was a simple question that she wished to ask. And yet, she could
+not ask it. Her dry and quivering lips refused to frame the words.
+"Were you so very intimate with Rosaline Bell?--and did you really
+love her?" Easy words they seemed to say; but Daisy could not get them
+out in her terrible emotion.
+
+And so, they parted, and she had not spoken. For the hour was late
+already, and she feared to remain out longer. And Frank went home
+unsuspecting and unconscious.
+
+It was on the following morning that certain rumours were afloat in
+Trennach. They had arisen the previous day: at least, two or three
+people professed to have then heard them. The miners congregated in
+groups to discuss the news; Float the chemist and other tradesmen
+stood at their shop-doors, exchanging words on the subject with the
+passers-by. It was said that Josiah Bell was lying in the Bottomless
+Shaft. Instead of having walked off in some mysterious manner, to
+return some day as mysteriously--as his wife believed--he was lying
+dead in that deep pit on the Bare Plain.
+
+But--whence arose these rumours? what was their foundation? No one
+could tell. Just as other unaccountable rumours that float about us
+and are whispered from one to another in daily intercourse, it seemed
+that none could trace their source. "They say so." Yes, but who are
+"they"?
+
+This same morning was the morning of Edina's departure for the
+neighbourhood of Bath. Frank was about to drive her to the
+railway-station. The doctor's gig was already at the door, the small
+trunk strapped on behind: for she never encumbered herself with much
+luggage. Frank was in the surgery, busying himself until she appeared,
+and talking with his uncle, when the door opened, and Ross the
+overseer came in. He had not been well lately, and came occasionally
+to the surgery for advice.
+
+"Have you heard this new tale they've got hold of now, doctor?" asked
+he, whilst Dr. Raynor was questioning him about his symptoms. "It's a
+queer one."
+
+"I have heard no tale," said the doctor. "What is it?"
+
+"That the missing man is lying at the bottom of the old shaft on the
+Plain."
+
+"What missing man?"
+
+"Josiah Bell."
+
+A moment's startled pause; a rush of red to his brow; and then Frank
+spoke up hastily.
+
+"What an utter absurdity! Who says so?"
+
+"It is being said among the men," replied Ross, turning towards him.
+"They can talk of nothing else this morning."
+
+The colour was receding from Frank's face, leaving it whiter than
+usual.
+
+"Bell at the bottom of the shaft!" exclaimed Dr. Raynor. "But why are
+they saying this? Who says it?"
+
+Ross pointed to the groups of men in the street, some of whom were in
+view of the window. "All of them, doctor. They are talking of nothing
+else."
+
+"What are their grounds for saying this?"
+
+"I haven't got to them yet. I don't think they know themselves."
+
+Since the first hasty words, Frank had remained silent, apparently
+paying attention to his physic-bottles. He spoke again now in a sharp,
+grating tone; which was very unusual in him, and therefore noticeable.
+
+"It is not likely that there are any grounds for it. I wonder, Ross,
+you can come here and repeat such nonsense!"
+
+"The place is buzzing with it; that's all I know," replied Ross,
+rather sulkily, as he went out. He could never bear to be found fault
+with.
+
+Dr. Raynor followed him to the door. After glancing up and down the
+street at the men collected there, he returned to the surgery.
+
+"It is evident that something or other is exciting them," he observed
+to Frank. "I wonder what can have given rise to the report?"
+
+"Some folly or other, Uncle Hugh. It will soon die away again."
+
+Dr. Raynor stood near the window, his eyes fixed on the outer scenes,
+his mind far away. Frank, who had made an end of his physic, stood
+buttoning his coat.
+
+"I have never believed anything but the worst, since Bell's
+disappearance," said the doctor. "Others have expected him to return:
+I never have. Where he may be, I know not: whether accident, or some
+other ill, may have chanced to him, I know not: but I entertain no
+hope that the man is still living."
+
+There was a pause. "Have you any reason for saying that, sir?" asked
+Frank, somewhat hesitatingly.
+
+"No reason in the world," replied Dr. Raynor. "At least, no sufficient
+reason. I am an old man, Frank, and you are a young one; and what I am
+about to say you will probably laugh at. I did not like Bell's look
+when we last saw him."
+
+Frank was at a loss to understand: and said so.
+
+"I did not like that grey look on his face," continued the doctor. "Do
+you remember it?"
+
+"Yes, I do, Uncle Hugh. It was very peculiar. Sometimes when a person
+is ill, or going to be ill, the face turns quite grey from loss of
+colour, and we say to them, You are looking grey this morning. But the
+shade on Bell's face was quite different from that."
+
+"Just so," assented the doctor. "And it takes a practised eye--or, I
+would rather say, an eye possessing innate discernment--to distinguish
+the one shade from the other: but it is unmistakable. The grey hue on
+Bell's face I have observed three times before during my life, in
+three different men; and in each case it was the forerunner of death."
+
+Dr. Raynor's voice had become solemn. Frank, far from laughing, seemed
+to catch it as he spoke.
+
+"Do you mean the forerunner of fatal illness, sir?"
+
+"Only in one of the cases, Frank. The man had been ill for a long
+time, but his death was quite sudden and unexpected. The other two had
+no illness whatever: they died without it."
+
+"From accident?"
+
+"Yes, from accident. I should not avow as much to any one but you,
+Frank, and run the risk of being ridiculed: but I tell you that when I
+saw Bell come in that morning, with that peculiar grey on his face, it
+shocked me. I believed then, as firmly as I ever believed anything in
+my life, that the man's hours were numbered."
+
+Frank neither stirred nor spoke. Just for the moment he might have
+been taken for a statue.
+
+"Where Bell is, or where he went to, I know not; but from the time I
+first heard of his disappearance, I feared the man was dead," added
+Dr. Raynor. "The probability was, I thought, that he had fallen down
+in some fit, which had been, or would be, fatal. And I confess the
+marvel to me throughout has been that his body could not be found. If
+this rumour be true--that he is lying at the bottom of the used-up
+shaft--the marvel is accounted for."
+
+"But--is it likely to be true, sir?" cried Frank, in remonstrance.
+
+"Very likely, I think," replied the doctor. "Though I cannot imagine
+what should bring him _there_."
+
+"Are you ready, Frank?" asked Edina, appearing in her grey plaid shawl
+and plain straw bonnet. "Good-bye, papa. I have been looking for you."
+
+Dr. Raynor stooped to kiss his daughter quietly: he was not a
+demonstrative man. Hester was at the door: the boy held the horse's
+head. Frank helped Edina in; and, taking the reins, followed her.
+
+"You will not stay too long, Edina?"
+
+"Only the eight or nine days I am going for, papa."
+
+They drove on. It was a lovely summer's day; and Edina, who enjoyed
+the sunshine, the balmy atmosphere, the blue sky, the waving trees,
+sat still and looked about her. Frank was unusually silent. In point
+of fact, the rumour he had just heard, touching Bell, had almost
+dumfounded him. Edina might have wondered at his prolonged silence,
+but that she was deep in thought herself.
+
+"Frank," she began, as they neared the station, "I wish you would
+answer me a question."
+
+He glanced quickly round at her, dread in his heart. Did the question
+concern the Bottomless Shaft?
+
+"Do you know whether anything is wrong with papa?"
+
+It was a great relief; and Frank, ever elastic, brightened up at once.
+
+"Wrong with him? In what way, Edina?"
+
+"With his health. In the last few weeks he seems to have changed so
+very much: sometimes he seems quite like a broken-down old man. Don't
+you see that he is ill, Frank?"
+
+"Yes, I am sure he is," replied Frank, readily. "But I don't know what
+can be the matter with him."
+
+"It seems to me that he wants rest."
+
+"He has more rest than he used to have, Edina; I save him all I can.
+There are some crotchety old patients who _will_ have him, you know."
+
+"I hope it is nothing serious! Do you think he will soon be better?"
+
+Frank touched the horse with the whip: which perhaps made his excuse
+for not answering. "Had Uncle Hugh been in his usual health, I should
+have left him before this," he observed. "But I want to see him
+stronger first. He might chance to get some fellow in my place who
+would not be willing to take most of the work on his own shoulders."
+
+"Left him to set up for yourself, do you mean, Frank?"
+
+"To be sure. I ought to, you know," he added, with a slight laugh.
+
+She understood. It was the first time Frank's stolen marriage had been
+alluded to by either of them, since the day it took place.
+
+"How are you getting on, Frank?" she asked, in low tones, as he drew
+up outside the station. "You and Daisy?"
+
+"Not getting on at all. She is there, and I am elsewhere. Now and then
+I see her for five minutes in their garden; but that's pretty nearly
+stopped now. Until last night, she has been unable to escape from the
+house for I don't know how long. Of course it is not a lively
+condition of things."
+
+"It seems to me to be just the same with you as though you had not
+been married."
+
+"It is precisely the same, Edina."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+LOOKING OUT FOR EDINA.
+
+
+In the bow-window of the shabby dining-room at Spring Lawn stood Major
+Raynor, his wife and children. They were on the tiptoe of expectation,
+waiting for Edina. A vehicle of some kind could be discerned at a
+distance; opinions differed as to whether it was a fly or not. The
+evening sunbeams fell athwart the green lawn and on the flowers, whose
+perfume mingled with that of the hay, lying in cocks in the adjoining
+field.
+
+"I am sure it _is_ a fly," cried little Kate, shading her eyes that
+she might see the better.
+
+"And I tell you it is not," retorted Alfred. "That thing, whatever it
+is, is coming at a snail's pace, like a waggon. Do you suppose Edina
+would come in a waggon, little stupid?"
+
+"I don't think it is a waggon," said Major Raynor, who had the aid of
+an opera-glass. "It has two horses, at any rate. The driver is
+whipping them up, too: and see--it is coming along now at a smart
+pace. I should say it is a fly."
+
+Every now and then the vehicle lost itself behind trees and hedges and
+turnings from the temporary glimpses they caught, it seemed to have
+something like a cart-load of luggage upon its roof. Which was
+extremely unlikely to belong to Edina.
+
+On it came: its rumble could now be heard, though it was no longer
+visible. All ears were bent to it: and when it had reached the narrow
+avenue that led to the garden it was heard to turn off the road and
+rattle down.
+
+"It is a fly," spoke Alice, triumphantly. "And it is bringing Edina."
+
+Charles strolled out to the gate. Away tore the children after him,
+shouting Edina's name in every variety of voice. Major and Mrs. Raynor
+followed, and were just in time to witness the drawing-up of the
+vehicle.
+
+It was not a fly. It was a large, lumbering, disreputable conveyance
+that plied daily between Bath and sundry villages, and was called
+Tuppin's van. Disreputable as compared with a genteel, exclusive Bath
+fly that carried gentlefolk. This was used only by the lower classes;
+people who knew nothing about "society."
+
+Nevertheless, Edina was in it. Old Tuppin, throwing the reins across
+his horses, had left his box to go round to the door, which opened at
+the back like an omnibus. A sudden silence had fallen on the children.
+Edina got out. And Tuppin, touching his hat to Major and Mrs. Raynor,
+selected her trunk from the luggage on the roof, and placed it inside
+the gate. Three outside male passengers watched the proceedings.
+
+Edina put a shilling into Tuppin's hand. He thanked her, ascended to
+his seat, touched his horses, turned them round, and drove up the
+avenue with a clatter. Edina was smothered with greetings and kisses
+on the lawn.
+
+"But how could you come in that van, Edina?"
+
+"There were very few carriages at the station, Charley. The only one I
+could see wanted to charge six shillings. This van--but I call it an
+omnibus--was waiting for a passenger, and I took advantage of it."
+
+"It is Tuppin's van," persisted Charley. "No one ever travels by it,
+except servants."
+
+"No one with a full pocket, perhaps," smiled Edina, with her
+imperturbable good-humour. "I paid a shilling only, and came very
+comfortably."
+
+"There was an old woman inside as well as you, Edina," cried Alfred.
+
+"Yes. It was she who came  by the same train, and got out at the
+station. She is housekeeper, she told me, in some family near here."
+
+Edina caught up little Bobby as she spoke, and the matter dropped. But
+an impression remained on the minds of the elder children that Edina
+was more stingy than ever, or she would never have travelled in
+Tuppin's van when there was a fly to be had for the hiring. Certainly
+Edina's were saving ways. Contrasted with their own reckless ones,
+they appeared "stingy." But the time was to come when they would learn
+how mistaken was the impression, and how they had misjudged her.
+
+"And how are you getting on, Uncle Francis?" asked Edina.
+
+"Going backwards, my dear. What with no money, so to say, coming in,
+and everything going out----"
+
+The major stopped for want of adequate words to express the position.
+Edina resumed.
+
+"But you have some money coming in, Uncle Francis. You have your
+income."
+
+"But what is it, my dear, as compared with the expenses? Besides, to
+tell you the truth, it is always forestalled. There always seems to be
+such a lot to pay."
+
+"How uneasy it must make you!"
+
+"Not a bit of it," spoke the major, cheerily. "With Eagles' Nest in
+prospective, it does not matter at all, Talking of Eagles' Nest,
+Edina, have you heard anything of your aunt Ann lately?"
+
+"We never do hear from her, Uncle Francis. Papa writes to her
+sometimes, and I write, but we never receive any answer."
+
+"I fear she is on her last legs."
+
+The major spoke solemnly, with quite a rueful expression of
+countenance. Badly though he wanted the money his sister's death would
+bring, and estranged from him though she was, he could not and did not
+think of it in any spirit but a sad one.
+
+"I have heard from London two or three times lately, Edina, from my
+lawyer: John Street, you know. And in each letter he has given me a
+very poor account of Mrs. Atkinson. Her death, poor soul, must be very
+near."
+
+It had been nearer than the major, or even his lawyer, anticipated.
+She was dead even then. At the very moment the major was talking of
+her she was lying dead at Eagles' Nest. Had been dead three or four
+hours.
+
+The news reached them in the morning. A letter was delivered at Spring
+Lawn, and was carried up, as usual, to the major in bed. No one took
+any particular notice of the letter; as a rule, the major's letters
+were only applications from creditors, and could not be supposed to
+interest the household. Mrs. Raynor was seated at breakfast with her
+three elder children and Edina, when a sudden bumping on the floor
+above, and shouting in the major's voice, considerably startled them.
+
+"Good gracious! he must have fallen out of bed!" cried poor Mrs.
+Raynor.
+
+"And upset his coffee," said Charley, with a laugh.
+
+But it was nothing of the sort. The major had jumped up to dress in
+hot haste, and was calling out to them between whiles. He had received
+news of the death of his sister, Mrs. Atkinson; and was going up
+forthwith to Eagles' Nest.
+
+"Shall I go too, papa?" asked Charley.
+
+"I don't mind, my boy. I suppose we can scrape up enough money for the
+tickets."
+
+Of course the children were all in commotion. Alfred marched up to the
+nursery, and drew the blinds down.
+
+"What is that for, Master Alfred?" demanded nurse, who was dressing
+Kate's doll; Kate herself standing by to watch the process.
+
+"Ah, you don't know," replied Alfred, bursting with impatience to
+deliver his news, yet withholding it tantalizingly.
+
+"No, I don't," said the nurse, who was often at war with Alfred. "You
+will have the goodness, sir, to draw the blinds up again, and leave
+them alone."
+
+"I choose to have them down, nurse."
+
+"You will choose to walk out of my nursery in a minute or two,"
+retorted the nurse. "Wait till I've fixed this frock on. It would be a
+precious good thing if you were at school, Master Alfred!"
+
+"But I am not going to school," cried Alfred, in irrepressible
+delight, the good news refusing to be kept down any longer. "I'm going
+somewhere else. Old Aunt Atkinson's dead, and papa has come into
+Eagles' Nest and a large fortune, Madam Nurse! And he is going up
+there so-day; and Charley's going; and we shall go directly. Eagles'
+Nest! Won't I have a pony to myself!--and a double-barrelled gun!--and
+a whole shopful of sweet-stuff!"
+
+Vaulting over little Robert, who sat on the floor staring at him, he
+caught Kate in the exuberance of his anticipations, and whirled her
+round until she was giddy. Then, attempting a leap across the table,
+he caught his foot on the edge; and boy, table, and a heavy pincushion
+that was on it, called a "doctor," all came down together. The noise
+was something wonderful. It brought up Edina and Alice.
+
+"Whatever is it, nurse?"
+
+"Only one of Master Alfred's freaks, ma'am. He thought he would leap
+over the table."
+
+Alfred was holding his handkerchief to his nose. He would not
+acknowledge that it bled.
+
+"We thought the house was falling," said Alice. "It was worse than
+papa. He gave us the first fright."
+
+"And all because he has come into some money, he says, Miss Raynor,"
+put in the nurse, who was angrily picking up the table, "and the money
+is to buy him everything under the sun."
+
+"Unseemly boasting, Alfred!" cried Edina. "Had you no thought for your
+poor aunt?"
+
+"I don't see why I should have, Edina," returned the boy, boldly. "I
+never saw Aunt Atkinson in my life: why should I pretend to be sorry
+for her?"
+
+"I never said you were to pretend anything, child. Sorrow is real
+enough, and perhaps, Alfred, you will find that it comes to you often
+enough in life, without assuming it. But there is a great difference
+between feigning sorrow, and being especially elated. As to the
+fortune, it may not make very much difference to you in any way."
+
+"Oh, won't it though, Edina! Charley's not going to get it all."
+
+"About the blinds, ma'am? Are they to be kept down?"
+
+"I don't know, nurse. I will ask Mrs. Raynor.
+
+"What an old croaker she is!" exclaimed Alfred, as Edina left the
+room.
+
+"A bit of one," assented Alice.
+
+"That she is not, Miss Alice," said the nurse. "If you were all only
+half as good as Miss Edina Raynor!"
+
+When the sum necessary for the journey came to be ascertained, it was
+found that the major and all his household could not scrape it
+together: though it sounds like a ridiculous fact. Edina came forward
+with help; and so it was managed.
+
+"I trust it will be all right, Uncle Francis," whispered Edina,
+earnestly, as she crossed the lawn with the major when he was
+departing.
+
+"Right in what way, my dear?"
+
+"That you will inherit Eagles' Nest."
+
+"Oh, that _is_ all right," replied the major. "My letter tells me so.
+Everything is willed to me. Poor Ann! Good-bye, my dear: be sure you
+stay until we return. What a hot walk we shall have into Bath!" added
+the major, taking off his hat and rubbing his brow in anticipation.
+"But there's no help for it; no conveyance of any kind at hand. I
+should be glad even of Tuppin's van this morning."
+
+Edina stood at the gate, and watched them up the avenue, Charley
+carrying the black portmanteau. In her steadfast eyes there lay a
+certain expression of _rest_. With her habit of looking forward to the
+dark side of things as well as to the bright, Edina had never felt
+quite assured upon the point of the major's inheritance: it was
+welcome, indeed, to hear that this was placed beyond doubt. What would
+that helpless, improvident family have done without it!
+
+A hand stole itself within Edina's arm. She turned her soft dark eyes,
+to see Mrs. Raynor; who looked, as usual, very mild about the face,
+and very limp about the dress. The children had rushed indoors again,
+and were restlessly running from room to room in the excitement of
+their new prospects, discussing the wonders that would become theirs,
+now wealth and greatness had fallen upon them. Their minds were
+picturing the future residence at Eagles' Nest all gold, and glitter,
+and gladness: life was to be as one long Lord Mayor's day.
+
+"It is a great strain removed, Edina!"
+
+"What is, Mary?" For Edina had never called this young wife of her
+uncle's "Aunt." It had been "Mary" from the first. They were not so
+very many years removed from one another in age.
+
+"All the distress and contriving about money. I have never said much
+to you, for where was the use; but you don't know what a strain it has
+been, what shifts we have been put to."
+
+"I do," said Edina. "I can only too readily imagine it. For many years
+the same strain lay on me and papa: at Trennach, and before we went to
+Trennach. It is removed in a degree, for the necessity for saving does
+not exist as it did, but we are careful still. I learnt economy in my
+pinafores, Mary. Your children could not understand my coming here in
+Tuppin's van yesterday, when I might have hired a fly: but it saved
+five shillings. Papa urges economy upon me still, and practises it
+himself. I think he does so for my sake.
+
+"Ah! what _could_ you do, Edina, if anything happened to your father,
+and you were left without the means to live?"
+
+Edina laughed at the consternation expressed in Mrs. Raynor's voice.
+To this really helpless woman, the being left without means seemed the
+very greatest of all earthly calamities.
+
+"I should have no fear for myself, Mary. I could go out as useful
+companion; or governess; or even as housekeeper. Few places where I
+could be practically useful would come amiss to me."
+
+"I am sure of that," said Mrs. Raynor.
+
+They were strolling across the grass-plat arm-in-arm, Mrs. Raynor
+stooping to pluck a flower here and there: a June rose; a pink; a
+sprig of syringa. Silence had supervened. Mrs. Raynor was puzzling her
+brains over the children's mourning: what would, and what would not be
+necessary, and how it would all get made.
+
+"What are you going to do with Charles?" suddenly asked Edina.
+
+"With Charles! I'm sure I don't know. Why, Edina?"
+
+"It is so sad to see a fine young fellow, as he is, with all his wits
+and capabilities about him, spending his days in idleness. I had meant
+to talk to Uncle Francis about it to-day. I do think, Mary, it has been
+a great mistake."
+
+"Well, dear, perhaps it has," replied the equable woman. "But you see,
+it takes so much money to bring young men on in life: and we had no
+money to spare."
+
+"Then, where money is wanting, they should be 'brought on' in some way
+that does not need money," rejoined Edina. "Charles has been
+absolutely idle; and only for the want of proper direction. Even Frank
+saw the error. When he returned to us the last time from his short
+stay here, he said what a pity it was."
+
+"Charles wanted to be a barrister, I fancy. But the major could not
+take any steps in it without money."
+
+"Then I would place him in a lawyer's office as a temporary clerk,
+that he might be acquiring some knowledge of law while he waited."
+
+"I declare we never thought of that," cried Mrs. Raynor. "Perhaps
+Charley would not have liked it, though."
+
+"Perhaps not. I should have done it, for all that, had I been Uncle
+Francis. Nothing in the world is so bad to a young man as indulging in
+idle habits. Has Charles been reading law books?"
+
+"No; only novels," said Mrs. Raynor. "Oh, it will all be right, Edina,
+now that he has Eagles' Nest to look forward to. Of course, he could
+look forward to it before; but there was always the doubt when we
+should come into it. Suppose Mrs. Atkinson had lived to be a hundred?
+Some people do. Where should we all have been then? or even to eighty
+or ninety?"
+
+"I'm sure I don't know," said Edina, smiling. "Suppose Uncle Francis
+should live to be a hundred, Mary? Where would Charley be in that
+case?"
+
+"But, Edina, what would it matter? With a beautiful place like Eagles'
+Nest and means to keep it up, the children would always be sure of a
+home and of welcome there. It would be Charley's as much as ours----"
+
+"Oh, mamma! What do you think? Papa has gone without his
+shaving-tackle, and without his boots!"
+
+The salutation came from the children, who all came wildly rushing
+forth again. They had been visiting the major's dressing-room, and
+discovered that these indispensable articles had been left behind.
+
+"They are his light summer boots, too; those with the long name," said
+Alice. "He cannot walk about much in any others."
+
+"Dear, dear, dear!" lamented Mrs. Raynor. "He must have put on those
+tight, patched ones by mistake--and they always blister his heels. How
+will he manage to get to Bath?"
+
+
+Eagles' Nest was not large, but it was one of the prettiest places in
+all Kent. A long, low, ancient house of grey stone, covered in places
+with ivy. Some of its old-fashioned mullioned casements had been
+replaced (many people said spoilt) by modern windows, opening to
+terraces, undulating lawns, and beds of brilliant flowers. Few old
+houses have so gay an appearance as this house had: perhaps owing to
+the new windows and to other alterations. The entrance-door was
+approached by three or four broad, low steps. Gothic casements of rich
+and blended colours threw their tints upon the tesselated hall. Rooms
+opened on either side: bright rooms, that had a very _home_ look about
+them, and in which one felt that it would be a privilege to pass a
+great portion of one's life. The estate had been well kept up by Mrs.
+Atkinson. It was worth about two thousand a-year; but was still
+capable of much improvement.
+
+When Major Raynor and his son arrived in the course of the afternoon,
+they were received by Mr. Street, the solicitor to the late Mrs.
+Atkinson. He was brother to Mr. Edwin Street, the acting partner in
+the Atkinson bank. John Street was the elder of the brothers; a man of
+sixty now, well known in London as a quiet and most respectable
+practitioner. He was reserved in manner; not at all what could be
+called "genial," and rather severe than benevolent; strictly just, but
+perhaps not generous.
+
+As the fly that brought the major and his son from the nearest station
+rattled up, Mr. Street appeared at the hall-door: a little man in
+spectacles, with cold light eyes and very scanty hair.
+
+"I am glad you have come, Major Raynor."
+
+"And I'm sure I'm glad to see that you have," returned the major,
+cordially holding out his hand. "I might have found myself in a fog
+without you. I had your letter this morning."
+
+"We received news of Mrs. Atkinson's death yesterday afternoon; her
+coachman was sent up with the tidings, and I wrote to you at once,"
+observed Mr. Street. "As you are sole inheritor, excepting a few
+trifling legacies, and also executor, I thought it well, as I stated
+in my letter, that you should be here."
+
+"Just so," said the major. "When did you arrive yourself?"
+
+"I came down this morning."
+
+"And I and Charley started off in a hurry to catch the ten-o'clock
+train--and I came away in my wrong boots--and Charley has been
+laughing at me. You don't know him, Street--my eldest son and heir.
+Charley, come here, sir, and be introduced to Mr. Street."
+
+Charles Raynor had been looking out from the open window. He had never
+seen so pretty a place before as this one, lying under the June
+sunshine. Hay was being made here, just as it had been in Somerset:
+and the sweet smell came wafted to him on the summer breeze. The lawns
+were beautifully kept, the flowers were perfect; shrubs clustered
+around, trees waved above. In the distance was stretched out a
+beautiful landscape, than which nothing could be more charming. Close
+by, curled the blue smoke from the little village of Grassmere, hidden
+by trees from the view of Eagles' Nest. Surely in this spot man could
+find all that his heart desired Charley sighed as he turned to the
+call: the lad had a strong love for the beauties of nature.
+
+"Had this been left to others instead of to ourselves, how I should
+envy them, now that I have seen it!" said Charles to himself. And he
+was not thinking then of any pecuniary return.
+
+Mr. Street looked keenly at him. He saw a tall, slender, good-looking
+young man; who, in manner at least, appeared somewhat indifferent, not
+to say haughty.
+
+"A proud young dandy, who thinks the world was made for him," decided
+the lawyer in his own mind.
+
+"In any profession, young sir?" asked Mr. Street.
+
+"Not yet," replied Charles. "I shall have, I expect, to go to college
+before thinking of one. If I think of one at all."
+
+"Better enter one," said Mr. Street, shortly. "The pleasantest life is
+the one that has its regular occupation; the most miserable a life of
+idleness."
+
+"That's true," put in the major. "Since I left the service, I have
+been like a fish out of water. Sometimes, before the day has well
+begun I wish it was ended, not knowing what to do with myself."
+
+"Not many weeks ago, Mrs. Atkinson was talking to me about that very
+thing, major. She fancied you would have done better not to sell out."
+
+"Ay; I've often said so myself. Poor Ann! I should like to have seen
+more of her. But she had her crotchets, you know, Street. Did she
+suffer much at the last, I wonder?"
+
+"No, she went off quite easily, as one who is worn out. She is lying
+in the red room: I have been up to see her. A good woman; but, as you
+observe, major, crotchety on some points."
+
+"Why, would you believe it, Street, she once thought of disinheriting
+me."
+
+"I know it," replied the lawyer. "It was the year following her
+husband's death. And perhaps," he added, with as much of a smile as
+ever came to his lips, "you owe it to me that she did not do so."
+
+"Indeed! How was that?"
+
+"I received a letter from her, calling me here for the purpose, she
+said, of altering her will. Away I came, bringing the will with
+me--for I held one copy of it, as you may remember, Major Raynor, and
+you the other. 'I want to disinherit my brother,' were the first words
+she said to me; 'I shall leave Eagles' Nest to George Atkinson: I
+always wished him to have it.' Of course I asked her the why and the
+wherefore. 'Francis has affronted me, and he shall not inherit it,' was
+all the explanation I could get from her. Well, major, I talked to
+her, and brought her into a more reasonable frame of mind: and the
+result was, that I carried the original will back to town with me,
+unaltered."
+
+"Poor Ann! poor Ann!" re-echoed the major.
+
+"About the arrangements?" resumed Mr. Street. "If I can be of any use
+to you, major----"
+
+"Why, you can be of every use," interrupted the major. "I don't know
+how to manage anything."
+
+Mr. Street had brought the will down with him to-day, and it was
+thought right to open it at once. Major Raynor found that the
+recollection he had retained of its general contents was pretty
+accurate, excepting on one point. Eagles' Nest was left to him as it
+stood, with all its contents and appurtenances; and he was made
+residuary legatee: therefore, whatever moneys might have accumulated
+or been invested in shares or stock, would become his, after all
+claims and legacies were paid. The one point on which his memory had
+not served him, regarded the bequest to Frank Raynor. Instead of its
+being "among the thousands," as he had confidently believed, and led
+Frank to believe, it was only among the hundreds. And not very
+advanced in them, either. Five hundred pounds, neither more nor less.
+The major looked at the amount ruefully.
+
+"I'm sure I can't tell how I came to fancy that it was so much more,
+Charley," said he. "I am very sorry. It will be a disappointment for
+Frank."
+
+"But can't you make it up to him, father?" suggested Charles. "There
+must be a great deal of accumulated money, as Mr. Street says: you
+might spare Frank a little of it."
+
+"Why, to be sure I can," heartily returned the major, his eyes
+beaming. "It did not strike me. But I should have thought of it
+myself, Charley, later on."
+
+"A great deal of accumulated money, regarded from a moderate point of
+view," spoke the lawyer, in confirmation. "Mr. Timothy Atkinson left a
+fair sum behind him, the interest upon which must have been
+accumulating until now. And his widow did not, I am sure, live up to
+anything like the revenues of this estate."
+
+"What is it all invested in?--where is it lying?" asked the major.
+
+"We must see to that."
+
+"But don't you know?"
+
+"No. Mrs. Atkinson managed her monetary affairs herself, without
+reference to me. My brother knows all about everything, I dare say;
+but he is, and always has been, as close as wax."
+
+"Perhaps the money is deposited with him?"
+
+"I think not," said the lawyer. "I know he once, close though he is,
+said something to me to the effect that it was not. The securities,
+bonds and vouchers, and so forth, are no doubt lying in his hands."
+
+The funeral took place, Mr. Street again coming down for the ceremony.
+He was accompanied by his brother, Mr. Edwin Street. Dr. Raynor had
+declined the invitation sent him: he was not well enough to undertake
+the long journey; and Frank could not be spared.
+
+Some conversation occurred between the brothers, on the way down,
+about the above-mentioned securities; but the banker at once said they
+were not deposited with him. In the after-part of the day, when the
+funeral was over, Lawyer Street mentioned this to Major Raynor, and
+said they were no doubt "somewhere in the house."
+
+A thorough search ensued: old Mrs. Atkinson's maid, an elderly and
+confidential attendant of many years, taking part in it. She showed
+them every possible place of security, locked and unlocked, in which
+such deeds could be placed. But no deeds were found.
+
+"I still think they must be in your strong boxes at the bank,"
+observed the lawyer to his brother, when he and Major Raynor returned
+to the room where they had left Mr. Edwin Street and Charles.
+
+"But I assure you they are not," replied the banker, who bore a
+striking resemblance to his brother, and had the same cold manner.
+"When Mrs. Atkinson made her will, she lodged with us certain bonds of
+India Stock, just about sufficient to pay the legacies she bequeathed
+in that will when the time should come--as it has come now. She told
+me that she intended the stock to be applied to that purpose. We hold
+the bonds still; and the interest, which we have regularly received
+for her, has been added to her current account with us: but we hold no
+other securities."
+
+"What an odd thing!" cried the major. "Where can they be?"
+
+"When our second partner, Mr. Timothy Atkinson, died," continued the
+banker, "he left a certain sum in the bank to his wife's account, upon
+which she was to receive substantial interest. But about a year
+afterwards she withdrew this sum, and invested it elsewhere."
+
+"Where? What in?"
+
+"I cannot tell. I never knew. I understood from her that it was
+invested; but I knew no more. We have never had any money of hers
+since--excepting of course the current account, paid in from the
+revenues of this estate. And we hold no securities of hers, besides
+these Indian bonds that I have spoken of."
+
+"Was the sum she withdrew a large one?" asked the major.
+
+ "It was
+between fourteen and fifteen thousand pounds."
+
+"And she must have added ever so much to that," observed the lawyer.
+"She has not lodged her superfluous income with you?" he added to his
+brother.
+
+"No. I have said so. We hold nothing but her current account. That has
+been replenished by her when necessary; but we have had nothing more.
+It is certainly strange where the vouchers for her property can be. I
+suppose," added the banker, more slowly, "she did not invest the money
+in some bubble scheme, and lose it?"
+
+"The very same thought was crossing my mind," spoke his brother.
+
+"But you don't think that probable, do you, Street?" cried Major
+Raynor, turning rather hot.
+
+A pause ensued. Lawyer Street was evidently thinking out the
+probabilities. They waited, and watched him.
+
+"I must confess that circumstances look suspicious," he said at
+length. "Else why so much secrecy?"
+
+"Secrecy?"
+
+"Yes. If Mrs. Atkinson placed the money in any well-known safe
+investment, why was she not open about it: get me to act for her, and
+lodge the securities at the bank? She did neither: she acted for
+herself--as we must suppose--and kept the transaction to herself. The
+inference is, that it was some wild-goose venture that she did not
+care to speak about. Women are so credulous."
+
+"What a gloomy look-out!" put in the major.
+
+"Oh, well, we have only been glancing at possibilities, you know,"
+observed Mr. Street. "I dare say the securities will be found--and the
+money also."
+
+"Right, John," assented the banker. "Had Mrs. Atkinson found her money
+was being lost, she would assuredly have set you to work to recover
+it. I think we may safely assume that, Major Raynor!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+COMMOTION.
+
+
+"Be sure you stay until we return," had been the charge left to Edina
+Raynor by her uncle. But the major found himself detained longer than
+he had expected, and she went away from Spring Lawn without again
+seeing him or Charles.
+
+During the short period of her absence from Trennach--nine days--her
+father had changed so much for the worse that she started when she saw
+him. As he came out of his house to welcome her, all Edina's pulses
+stood still for a moment, and then coursed on with a bound. In a
+gradual, wasting illness, not very apparent to those around, it is
+only on such an occasion as this that its progress can be judged of.
+
+"Papa, you have been ill!"
+
+"True, Edina, but I am mending a little now."
+
+"Why did you not send for me?"
+
+"Nay, my dear, there was not any necessity for that."
+
+A substantial tea-table had been spread, and in a very few minutes
+Edina was presiding at it; her travelling things off, her soft brown
+hair smoothed, her countenance wearing its usual cheerful gravity. Not
+a gravity that repelled: one that insensibly attracted, for it spoke
+of its owner's truth, and faith, and earnestness, of her goodwill to
+all about her. Sitting there, dispensing cups of tea to the doctor and
+Frank, she was ready to hear the news of all that had transpired in
+the village during her absence.
+
+Almost the first item that greeted her was the stir about Josiah Bell,
+of which she had previously heard nothing. It had not subsided in the
+least, but rather increased: the man so long missing was now supposed
+to be lying at the bottom of the deep shaft. But the supposition could
+only be traced back to a very insecure source indeed: nothing more
+than a dream of Mr. Blase Pellet's.
+
+"A dream!" exclaimed Edina, in the midst of her wonder.
+
+"So Pellet says," replied Dr. Raynor.
+
+"But, papa, can there be any foundation for it? I mean for the fact,
+not the dream."
+
+"The very question we all asked when the rumour arose, Edina. At first
+it could not be traced to any source at all; there was the report, but
+whence it came seemed a mystery. At last, by dint of close and patient
+investigation, chiefly on the part of Float the publican, it was
+traced to Blase Pellet, and he said he had dreamt it."
+
+"Then, after all, it has no real foundation," cried Edina.
+
+"None but that. I questioned Pellet myself, asking him how he came to
+spread such a report about. He replied that he did not spread the
+report that Bell was lying there, only that he dreamt he was there."
+
+"I should have thought Blase Pellet a very unlikely man to have
+dreams, papa, and to relate them."
+
+"So should I," assented the doctor, significantly. "So unlikely, that
+I cannot help suspecting he did not have this one."
+
+Frank Raynor, who had risen and crossed to the window, as if attracted
+by something in the street, half turned at this remark, but
+immediately turned back again. Edina looked inquiringly at her father.
+
+"I could not help fancying, as I listened to him, that Pellet was
+saying it with a purpose," observed the doctor. "His manner was
+peculiar. If I may so describe it--shuffling."
+
+"I scarcely understand you, papa. You think he did not have the dream?
+That he only said he had it; and said it to answer some purpose of his
+own?"
+
+"Just so, Edina."
+
+"But what could be his purpose?"
+
+"Ah, there I am at fault. We may discover that later. If he did say it
+with a purpose, I conclude it will not end here."
+
+"Well, it sounds rather strange altogether," observed Edina. "Frank,
+do you mean to let your tea get quite cold?"
+
+Frank Raynor returned to his place. He drank his tea, but declined to
+eat, and began to speak of Mrs. Atkinson's will.
+
+"Did you hear any particulars about it, Edina?"
+
+"No," replied Edina. "Excepting the one fact that she did not make a
+second will. There were doubts upon the point, you know."
+
+"Uncle Francis never entertained any doubt about it, Edina; and he was
+the best judge, I think, of what his sister would or would not do. I
+am very glad, though, for his and Charley's sake."
+
+"For all their sakes," added Edina.
+
+"I rather wonder we have not heard from him," resumed Frank. "The
+funeral took place three or four days ago."
+
+"You were not able to go to it, papa?" said Edina.
+
+"No, child. Neither could Frank be spared. It would have taken three
+days, you see, to go and return comfortably."
+
+Rising from the tea-table as soon as he could make a decent excuse for
+it, for he had no business calls on his time this evening, Frank set
+off on his usual walk to The Mount. On five evenings, since Edina
+left, had he so gone; but never with any success: not once had Daisy
+come out to him. She was being watched closer than ever.
+
+"And I suppose I shall have my walk for nothing this evening also!"
+thought Frank, as he plucked a wild-rose from a fragrant roadside
+hedge. "This shall not go on long: but I should like to present myself
+to Mrs. St. Clare with an assured sum to start us in life. I wonder
+Uncle Francis does not write! He must know I am anxious--if he thinks
+about it at all. Up to his ears in his new interests, he forgets other
+people's."
+
+Fortune favoured Frank this evening. As he approached the outer gate
+of The Mount, he saw Daisy standing at it, very much to his surprise.
+
+"Mamma's lawyer has come over on business, and she is shut up with
+him," began Daisy, her eyes dancing with delight. "She told me to go
+up to Lydia, but Lydia is asleep, and I came out here."
+
+"I have wanted to see you so much, Daisy," said Frank, as he gave her
+his arm, and they passed under the broad elm-trees. "My aunt, Mrs.
+Atkinson, is dead."
+
+"We saw it in the papers," answered Daisy.
+
+"It is from her that I expect money, you know. Every day, I look for a
+letter from my uncle Francis, telling me what sum it is that I
+inherit. And then I shall present myself to your mother. I have so
+longed to tell you this."
+
+"I have longed to see you," returned Daisy, her pulses beating wildly
+with various and very mixed feelings, her face flushing and paling.
+"I--I--I want to ask you something, Frank."
+
+"Ask away, my love," was his reply. But he noticed her emotion.
+
+"Perhaps you will not answer me?"
+
+"Indeed I will, Daisy. Why not?"
+
+"It is about--Rosaline Bell." She could scarcely get the words out for
+agitation.
+
+Frank was startled. It was quite evident that he was unprepared for
+any such topic. It seemed to _frighten_ him. Else why that sudden
+change of countenance, that sudden dropping of Daisy's arm? Her heart
+fell.
+
+"What of her?" asked Frank, quite sharply. For in truth he believed
+Daisy was about to question him, not of Rosaline herself, but of that
+mysterious rumour connected with her father and the Bottomless Shaft;
+and it grated terribly on all his nerves.
+
+"I see it is true," gasped Daisy. "Oh! why did you marry _me?_"
+
+"What is true?" returned Frank, unpleasantly agitated.
+
+ "That you--that
+you--were fond of Rosaline Bell. You loved her all along. Before you
+loved me!"
+
+The charge was so very different from what he had been fearing, that
+Frank felt for the moment bewildered: bewildered in the midst of his
+inexpressible relief. He stood still, turned so that Daisy faced him,
+and gazed into her eyes.
+
+"_What_ is that you say, my dear? I really do not understand."
+
+Daisy shook and shivered, but did not speak.
+
+"That I love Rosaline Bell? I never loved her. What in the name of
+wonder put such an idea into your head?"
+
+For answer Daisy burst into tears. "She--she was so beautiful!"
+
+"Beautiful! Of course she is beautiful. And I admired her beauty,
+Daisy, if it comes to that, as much as other people did. But as to
+loving Rosaline Bell, that is a mistake. I never felt a spark of love
+for her. What a goose you must be, Daisy! And why on earth should you
+have taken up the fancy just now?"
+
+Daisy sobbed too much to answer. She almost believed what he said, for
+no doubt lay in his earnest tone, and she suffered herself to be
+soothed. She would have quite believed it but for Frank's signs of
+discomfiture at the introduction of the girl's name. Frank held her to
+him as they walked under the trees, and kissed her tear-stained face
+from time to time.
+
+"You need not doubt my love, Daisy. That at least is yours."
+
+They parted more hopefully than usual, for Frank assured her it could
+not be above a day or two ere he claimed her openly; and Daisy felt
+that she might believe him in all respects; and she resolutely flung
+her jealousy to the winds.
+
+"Fare you well, my darling. A short time now--we may count it by
+hours--and this tantalizing life will be over."
+
+He went home by way of the Bare Plain. And by so doing--and it was not
+very often now that he chose that route--fell into an adventure he had
+not bargained for. Round and about the Bottomless Shaft had collected
+a crowd of men, who were making very much of a commotion.
+
+It appeared that the rumours, touching Josiah Bell, had this night
+reached what might be called a climax. Miners had gone off from
+various quarters to the alleged scene of Mr. Blase's dream, and were
+plunging into the mystery con amore. As many as could press around the
+pit's mouth were holding on one to another for safety and bending
+dangerously over it: as if by that means they could solve the problem
+of who and what might be lying within its depths. Others stood at a
+distance, momentarily taking their pipes out of their mouths to make
+their free comments. Mrs. Bell, hearing of the stir, had tied a yellow
+silk square (once Josiah's Sunday-going handkerchief) over her cap,
+and come out to make one of the throng. It was a very light, hot
+night, daylight scarcely departed, and the western sky bright with a
+pale amber. The rugged faces of the miners and the red glow from their
+pipes, coupled with the commotion that stirred them, made up a strange
+scene.
+
+"Are you here, Mrs. Bell?" cried Frank, as he discerned her on the
+outskirts of the crowd. "What is the matter?"
+
+"There's nothing the matter," interposed Blase Pellet. And Frank
+turned on his heel to face the speaker in the moment's impulse, for he
+had not known that he was there. "What the plague all the town has
+come out for like this, I can't think. Let them mind their own
+business."
+
+"But we consider that it is our business, don't you see, Blase," put
+in Andrew Float, in his civil way. "Our poor vanished soe is either
+lying there in aal they stones and ashes, or he is not; and we'd like
+to make sure which it be."
+
+"Well, then, he is _not_ there," returned Blase: and he disappeared
+amidst the throng.
+
+"Has anything fresh arisen?" inquired a quiet voice at this
+juncture--that of Dr. Raynor--addressing both Frank and Mrs. Bell, who
+were standing side by side. The doctor, observing from his window a
+number of people, evidently in excitement, making for the Bare Plain,
+had come forth himself to learn what the movement meant.
+
+"I can't find out that there's anything fresh, sir," was the dame's
+answer. "Amid such confusion one don't easily get to the bottom of
+things. Andrew Float says 'twas just a thought that took a few of 'em
+as they sat talking of Bell at the Golden Shaft--that they'd come off
+and have a look down the pit's mouth; and the news spread, and others
+collected and followed. But I hardly think anything so simple could
+have brought all these."
+
+"They must have some reason for coming," remarked the doctor, gazing
+at the ever-increasing crowd.
+
+"Blase Pellet has just said there is no reason," rejoined Frank. "I
+should advise you not to stand out here any longer," he added, to Mrs.
+Bell.
+
+"Blase Pellet's no one to go by: he says one thing to-day, and another
+to-morrow," rejoined Dame Bell, as she turned on the path that led to
+her home; they turning with her.
+
+"I think the dreams that he says he has, are certainly not very much
+to go by," observed Dr. Raynor, quietly.
+
+"Oh, but that dream was a good deal," said Dame Bell. "And I've never
+had a good night's rest, sir, since I heard it, and that's more than a
+week ago. I can't sleep at night for thinking of it."
+
+"I am sorry to hear you say so, Mrs. Bell: I thought you possessed
+better sense. Pellet must have been very foolish to tell you about
+it."
+
+"It wasn't him that did tell me, Dr. Raynor. Leastways, not off-hand.
+It was Nancy Tomson. She came into my place one morning, when I was
+down on my knees whitening the hearth-flag; and I saw how scared her
+face looked. 'Guess what they be saying now,' says she: 'they've got a
+tale that your husband is lying in the Bottomless Shaft.' Well, sir, I
+stared at her, sitting back, as I knelt, with the stone in my hand:
+for you see I thought she meant he was lying there asleep; I really
+thought no worse. 'Go along with you, Nancy,' says I; 'as if Bell
+would lay himself down to sleep near that shaft!' 'Oh, it's not near
+it, but in it,' says she; 'and he's not sleeping, but dead.' Well,
+doctor, though I found every soul in the place saying the same thing,
+for four-and-twenty hours I could not get to learn why they said it.
+Andrew Float told me at last. He said it was through a dream of Blase
+Pellet's."
+
+Dr. Raynor, listening attentively, made no comment.
+
+"I had Pellet before me, sir, and he made a clean breast of it. He had
+not intended to let me know it, he said--and I don't think he had; but
+I did know it, and so it was no use holding out. It was a dreadful
+dream, he said. He had seen my poor husband lying at the bottom of
+that deep shaft, dead: seen him as plain as he had ever seen anything
+in all his life. When he woke up, his hair was standing on end with
+horror."
+
+"Ah," said the doctor quietly, his tone one of utter disbelief, though
+Mrs. Bell did not detect it. "Did he intimate, pray, how long Bell had
+been lying there?"
+
+"It was just what I asked him, sir, when I could get my breath again.
+A good three months, he was sure, he said. Which must have brought it
+back, sir, you see, to the time of his disappearance."
+
+"Yes, I do see," observed the doctor, rather pointedly. "Well, I do
+not put any faith in dreams, Mrs. Bell, and I would advise you not to
+put any either. Good-night. Go in as soon as you can."
+
+Dr. Raynor turned homewards, making a circuit to avoid the throng.
+Frank began whistling softly to himself, as a man sometimes does when
+absorbed in thought.
+
+"What is your opinion of this, Frank?" asked the doctor, abruptly.
+
+"I can form none, sir. Why they should collect----"
+
+"Not that," interrupted the doctor. "One fool makes many. I spoke of
+Blase Pellet's alleged dream. I, myself, believe he had nothing of the
+kind: his manner, when I spoke with him about it, was not
+satisfactory: but what puzzles me is, his motive for saying that he
+had the dream. Some men are gifted with a propensity for astounding
+their fellow-creatures with marvellous tales. To create a sensation
+they'd say they have been hung, drawn, quartered, and brought to life
+again. But Pellet is not one of these; he is quiet, reticent and
+practical."
+
+Frank made no reply. They were very close now to the Bottomless Shaft,
+and to the crowd surging around it.
+
+"I could almost think that he _knows_ Bell is there," resumed the
+doctor, lowering his voice. "If so, he must have been privy to the
+accident--if it was an accident--that sent poor Bell down. Perhaps
+took part in it----"
+
+"Oh no, no!" incautiously spoke Frank. "It is not likely that he would
+take part in anything of the sort, Uncle Hugh," he added in quieter
+tones.
+
+"If I don't quite think it, it is because there are one or two
+stumbling-blocks in the way," went on Dr. Raynor with composure. "Had
+Pellet been a witness to any accident--any false slip of Bell's, for
+instance; on the edge of the pit--he would have spoken of it at the
+time. Had he taken any part in it--inadvertently, of course, Pellet
+would not do so willingly--and hushed it up, he would not be likely to
+invent a dream now, and so draw attention again to what had nearly
+died away. Nevertheless, I am sure there is something or other in this
+new stir of Mr. Pellet's that does not appear on the surface."
+
+Dr. Raynor quitted the subject, to the intense relief of his nephew;
+took off his hat in the warm night, and began to talk of the evening
+star, shining before them in all its brilliancy.
+
+"A little while, Frank, a few more weeks, or months, or years, as may
+be, given to the fret and tear of this earthly life, and we shall, I
+suppose, know what these stars are; shall have entered on our heavenly
+life."
+
+
+Major Raynor's anticipated letter reached Frank on the following
+morning. As he opened it, a bank-note for twenty pounds dropped out:
+which the generous-hearted major had sent as an earnest of his
+goodwill.
+
+
+"My Dear Boy,
+
+"I am sorry to have to tell you that the legacy left you by your aunt
+Ann is only five hundred pounds. I confess that I thought it would
+have turned out to be at least three thousand. Of course I shall make
+it up to you. We cannot yet put our hands upon the securities for the
+accumulated savings; but as soon as we do so, you shall have a cheque
+from me for three thousand pounds.
+
+"I hope my brother is better, and Edina well. I wish she could be at
+Spring Lawn to help in the packing up, and all the rest of it. They
+come up to Eagles' Nest next week: and how they will get away without
+Edina to start them, I cannot imagine. My best affection to all.
+
+"Ever your attached uncle,
+
+"Francis Raynor."
+
+
+"I wonder how it is," mused Frank, as he slowly folded the letter,
+"that in all our troubles and necessities, we instinctively turn to
+Edina?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+BROUGHT TO THE SURFACE.
+
+
+The Reverend Titus Backup, in charge just now of the spiritual welfare
+of Trennach, had read out the banns of marriage on three separate
+Sundays, between Aaron Pitt, bachelor, and Naomi Perkins, spinster. On
+the Monday morning following the last announcement, Aaron, who was a
+young miner, and Naomi, who was nothing at all, and not good for much,
+either, in the shape of usefulness, presented themselves at the church
+with their respective friends, for the purpose of being united in
+matrimony.
+
+This was the second marriage ceremony that Mr. Backup had had to
+perform since his sojourn at Trennach. He got through it pretty much
+as he had got through the first: namely, with a good deal of inward
+doubt and hesitation, but successfully as to the result; inasmuch as
+he was able, at the conclusion, to pronounce the couple man and wife
+without having broken down.
+
+Clerk Trim was present, flourishing in all the importance of his
+office. Mrs. Trim also. Being on intimate terms with the parties in
+private life, Mrs. Trim had smartened herself up, and stepped into the
+church to look on, making one with the rest at the altar-rails. After
+the ceremony, came the business in the vestry. Trim took out the
+register book, and was opening it to place it before Mr. Backup, when
+a fresh entry, caught his eye. The clerk knew every page of the
+register as well as he knew his own Sunday shoes: which were made
+after the fashion of pumps, adorned with big ties of black ribbon.
+
+"Mercy 'pon us!" cried he in his astonishment. "Here's a new marriage
+wrote down!"
+
+The exclamation caused the party to gather round him. Mr. Backup,
+remembering the circumstances of the marriage, and that he himself was
+in the well-kept secret, turned nervous at once.
+
+"Why, it's--it's--it's Mr. Frank Raynor!" went on the clerk, staring
+at the page, and mastering its revelations slowly in his
+consternation. "And Miss--Miss---- Well, if ever I was so struck in my
+life! Did you marry them, sir?" holding out the book to the parson.
+"Is that your reverence's own signature?"
+
+His reverence took the book, muttered something quite foreign to the
+subject, that no one in the world could hear distinctly, himself
+included, and proceeded to enter the present marriage. As it was upon
+the same page, the parties signing it after him had the satisfaction
+of gratifying their own curiosity; and read, plainly as ink could show
+it, the names of Francis Raynor and Margaret St. Clare.
+
+Now, had Clerk Trim haply been alone when he made this discovery, he,
+being a reticent and prudent man, would probably have kept the news to
+himself. But unfortunately he was not alone. Six or eight people were
+present, besides the parson; and, half of them being females, the
+reader may be left to judge what chance there was of its being kept
+secret.
+
+The first to spread it abroad was Mrs. Trim. The wedding company
+having dispersed--without any invitation to her to accompany them to
+the house of the bride's mother and partake of the feasting, of which
+she had cherished a slight hope--Mrs. Trim betook herself to Float the
+druggist's. She had no particular work on hand that morning, and
+thought she could not do better than consecrate it to gossip. Mrs.
+Float, who was so far an invalid as to be unable to do much
+for herself, having been crippled years ago by an attack of
+rheumatic-fever, was in her usual chair by the fireside in the small
+parlour behind the shop, and Blase Pellet was pouring out some hot
+milk for her. Let the weather be ever so warm, Mrs. Float would not go
+without her fire: and perhaps she needed it. She was a stout, easy
+sort of woman, who took the best and the worst sides of life equally
+calmly; even her husband's attachment to the Golden Shaft. Of Blase
+Pellet she was very fond: for he was always ready to render her little
+services, as he might have been to a mother. Blase Pellet had his good
+and his bad qualities--as most people have: it was chiefly on the
+subject of Rosaline Bell that he was crazed.
+
+"I'll do that," said Mrs. Trim, taking the warming-can from him. "You
+are wanted in the shop, Mr. Pellet. A customer followed me in."
+
+Putting the can within the fender, she gave the cup to Mrs. Float; and
+at the same time regaled her with an account of the discovery in the
+register. Mrs. Float, lifting the cup to her mouth with her crippled
+hands, listened and stared, and for once felt some surprise; whilst
+Blase Pellet, behind the counter, changing one volume for another,
+caught a word here and there.
+
+"What's that you have been saying about Mr. Raynor?" he demanded,
+reappearing before Mrs. Trim, after despatching the customer. "I don't
+believe a word of it."
+
+"Then you can disbelieve it," was the tart retort; for Mrs. Trim did
+not like cold water thrown upon her assertions. "Mr. Baackup himself
+maarried him; there's his reverence's own name writ to the wedding.
+
+"Married him to Miss St. Clare?"
+
+"To Miss Margaret St. Clare. That's the pretty one. Don't you go
+disputing a body's word again, Blase Pellet. Fact es fact. Did you
+suppose they'd write down a lie? They registers 'ud be pewerly
+ticklish consarns to sarve out in thaat form."
+
+A summons at the other counter with some copper money, called Mr.
+Blase away again. This time he was wanted to make up a complicated
+prescription for hair-oil; comprising various choice ingredients.
+Whilst he was doing it, his thoughts ran in so deep a groove that he
+scented it with oil of turpentine instead of bergamot. And when the
+purchaser complained, Mr. Blase, after sniffing and looking, and
+finding out what he had done, being powerless to alter it, protested
+that it was a new scent just come down from London.
+
+"What a fool I have been!" ran his reflections. "If it is Miss St.
+Clare that he has been in love with--and married her, too, in
+secret--it can't have been Rosaline Bell: and when Rosaline said, poor
+girl, that there was nothing between them, she must have told the
+truth. And there I've been and gone and stirred up all this blessed
+commotion about the old man!--and who is to know whether I shall be
+able to lay it?"
+
+At any rate, Mr. Blase Pellet endeavoured to "lay" it. He went forth
+at once, and earnestly assured every one who would listen to him, that
+he found he had been mistaken in fancying he had had the dream.
+
+
+It chanced that on this same Monday morning, Frank Raynor was about to
+depart for London. Whatever disorder might have fastened upon Dr.
+Raynor, one thing was certain--it fluctuated greatly. And though only
+a few days had elapsed since the return of Edina, he had so visibly
+improved, both in appearance and strength, that she thought he was
+getting well: and Frank felt less scruple in leaving him.
+
+Frank, in his sanguine way, believed he had only to go to London to
+drop into some good thing; that the one and the other would be, as it
+were, a simultaneous process. On the spot one can do anything, he
+observed, when discussing the point with Dr. Raynor. Dr. Raynor did
+not oppose his going. Rather the contrary. If Frank went at all, now
+was the best time: for he knew that this spurt of health in himself,
+this renewed capacity of exertion, would not last long. During his
+stay in London, Frank was to look out for, and engage, an assistant
+for his uncle; a qualified medical man, who might become the partner
+of Dr. Raynor, and might eventually succeed to his practice. In short,
+it was just the same sort of thing that Frank was hoping to find for
+himself with some first-rate medical man in London.
+
+On the previous day, when the congregation was pouring out of church,
+after Mr. Backup's sermon, Frank and Daisy had contrived to exchange a
+few words, under cover of the crowd. He told her that he was at length
+starting for town; and should only return to claim her. It might be in
+a week's time--if he were fortunate and found what he wanted at once;
+or it might be a fortnight. Longer than that it could not be; for his
+uncle had given that as the extreme limit of his absence. Daisy
+returned the brief pressure of his hand, which he managed to give
+unseen, and glanced at him with her bright eyes, that had a whole sea
+of hope in their depths. The world looked very fair to them; and they
+felt that they had need of patience to endure this enforced separation
+before they might enter on its enjoyment together.
+
+On that same Sunday evening, Dr. Raynor spoke finally to Frank. They
+were sitting together, talking of this approaching sojourn in town:
+and of the great things it was to accomplish.
+
+"Frank," said the doctor, rousing himself from a reverie, "has it ever
+occurred to you that in carrying out the idea of settling in London,
+you may be throwing away the substance for the shadow?"
+
+Frank Raynor's gay blue eyes took a wondering expression as they went
+out to the speaker.
+
+"In what way, Uncle Hugh?"
+
+"It seems to me that the very thing you are about to seek there is
+lying ready to your hand here."
+
+Frank understood now. "You mean that I should remain with you, Uncle
+Hugh?"
+
+"Yes. As my partner now, Frank. As my successor hereafter."
+
+Frank Raynor slightly shook his head, but made no other answer.
+
+"I say to you, Frank, what I would say to no one else: that the time
+before some one must succeed to my place and practice is growing
+limited. It may be only a few weeks; it may be a few months: more than
+twelve months I do not think it can be. If----"
+
+"Oh, Uncle Hugh!"
+
+"Let me finish. I know I have your sympathy, my boy, and your best
+wishes, but all the sympathy and the good wishes in the world cannot
+alter the fiat which I fear has gone forth. Hear me, Frank. This has
+become a good practice now: it is a thousand pities that you should
+reject it and let it fall to a stranger."
+
+"But, if I get a better practice than this in London, Uncle Hugh?" he
+argued. "I mean, a more lucrative one."
+
+"But that is uncertain."
+
+"Not very uncertain," said sanguine Frank.
+
+"At any rate, you will have to pay for it. Pay in proportion to its
+merits."
+
+"Of course. But I can do that. Uncle Francis is going to make up my
+legacy to three thousand pounds, you know."
+
+"I know that he says so."
+
+"But--you can't doubt his word!" cried Frank, his eyes lifted again in
+genuine amazement.
+
+"Not his word, Frank: no, nor his intention: both are honest as the
+day. I only doubt his power."
+
+"His power! What, with all that accumulated money just dropped into
+his hands!"
+
+"But it has not yet dropped into them. It seems that a doubt exists as
+to where the money is, or even whether any exists at all."
+
+"Oh, Uncle Hugh, it is sure to be found. I dare say it has already
+turned up."
+
+"Well, I hope it has, Frank, and that you will reap all you expect.
+Let it pass so. Still, you must spend the money to ensure a practice;
+and the practice may not turn out as lucrative as you may be led to
+expect. The practice here is certain; you need not spend any money in
+securing it; and in a short time, a little sooner or a little later,
+it will be all in your hands."
+
+"Uncle Hugh, you are very generous, very thoughtful for me; but indeed
+I could not settle at Trennach. There are reasons----"
+
+Frank pulled up hastily. He was going on to say that for certain
+reasons this one small spot, in the whole length and breadth of the
+world's surface, was barred to him. Rather would he pass his life in
+some desert unfrequented by man, than within sight and sound of the
+Bare Plain.
+
+"I do not like Trennach," he went on. "I could not remain here. For
+the last two or three months," he added, in his candour, "I have been
+as restless as possible, wanting to get away from it."
+
+"You want to be amongst a more civilized community," said the doctor,
+good-naturedly.
+
+"Well--yes, Uncle Hugh. I do--when one is setting up for life."
+
+"Then there's nothing more to be said," concluded Dr. Raynor.
+
+So Frank held to his plan and his journey, and this morning was
+starting in pursuance of it. Never again, as he hoped, should he be
+living at Trennach. Just a few days, as it was arranged, he would
+remain to introduce the new doctor--who would probably come down when
+he did--to people and places; and then he would bid it farewell for
+ever, carrying Daisy with him.
+
+Taking leave of his uncle and Edina, he set out to walk to the
+station, his light overcoat thrown back, and greeting every one he met
+with a kindly word and a gay smile. The sky overhead was blue and
+calm, giving promise that the day would be fair to its end; just as
+Frank's hopeful heart seemed to assume that his life's journey would
+be fair throughout its course.
+
+"Good-morning, Mr. Raynor."
+
+The salutation came from the young parson. He stood leaning on the
+stile of the Rectory garden, which overlooked the high-road. Frank,
+answering cordially, was intending to pass onwards. But Mr. Backup
+motioned to retard him.
+
+"I am off to London," said Frank, gaily. "Can I do anything for you?"
+
+"I will not detain you a moment; I want to say just a word," spoke the
+clergyman, feeling already uncommonly shy and nervous at the thought
+of what that word was. "Mr. Raynor, I--I--I beg you to believe that I
+have implicitly kept secret that--that matter which you requested me
+to keep. But----"
+
+"I know you have," cried Frank, extending his hand in token of
+gratitude, "and I thank you heartily. Not a soul knows of it."
+
+"But--I was about to say that I fear it is a secret no longer. Another
+wedding took place in the church this morning, and the clerk read the
+entry of yours in it. Other people read it. They saw it in signing the
+book."
+
+The information was about as complete a damper for Frank Raynor as
+could have been administered to him. He stood perfectly still, his
+lips settling into a grave expression. Not that Frank cared very much
+that the fact itself should transpire: he had thought lately that if
+it did so, it might be a stroke of good luck for him, by giving him
+Daisy, who was now kept from him. But what struck him was, that if
+this were true, it would stop his journey to London. Instead of going
+there, he must bend his steps to The Mount; for he could not leave
+Daisy to bear the brunt of the discovery alone.
+
+"I knew Aaron Pitt was to be married this morning, but I declare that
+I never gave a thought to the register," spoke he aloud. "They saw it,
+you say. Did they make any comment?"
+
+"A few comments were made. Clerk Trim was so much surprised that he
+asked whether it was really my signature, and whether I married you.
+It crossed my mind to say you did not wish it talked about just at
+present, and to beg them to keep it secret. But as so many people were
+there I thought it would be quite useless to do so."
+
+"Quite useless," decided Frank. "Well, this has come upon me
+unexpectedly, and--and it will change my immediate plans. I must go on
+to The Mount now, instead of to the station."
+
+"I am very sorry," began the clergyman, as nervously as though it were
+through some fault of his own. "There are not two registers, you see,
+Mr. Raynor, and----"
+
+"Oh, don't be sorry," interrupted Frank, recovering his spirits and
+his lightness of heart and tone. "I'm not sure but it may turn out for
+the best. Upon my return from London, a few days hence, I was going to
+declare it myself."
+
+Shaking hands warmly, Frank continued his way, striding over the
+ground at a great rate. Instead of branching off at the turning that
+led to the railway, he strode straight on towards The Mount.
+
+"All for the best," he repeated to himself, referring to his parting
+words to the parson. "It may end in my taking Daisy up with me to-day.
+It shall end so, if my will is worth anything."
+
+Boldly went he to The Mount, knocking and ringing freely. Far from
+feeling small for having, so to say, run away with the prettiest
+daughter of the house, for which act he might expect reproach and
+obloquy, he seemed to think he had come on some errand that merited
+reward. One of the men-servants threw open the door.
+
+"Can I see Mrs. St. Clare?"
+
+"Mrs. St. Clare is not at home, sir."
+
+"Indeed!" returned Frank, in surprise. For it was not her habit to go
+out so early.
+
+"My mistress and the young ladies have left home this morning, sir,"
+explained the man. "They have gone for a week or so."
+
+"Where to?"
+
+"I don't know, sir. It was uncertain. Perhaps as far as Malvern: Miss
+Lydia likes Malvern: or perhaps only to one of the seaside places on
+this coast."
+
+"You cannot tell me where a letter would find Mrs. St. Clare?"
+
+"No, sir. My mistress said that all letters might wait here until she
+came back."
+
+So there was no help for it: he could not make the communication to
+Mrs. St. Clare. But in all probability she would hear nothing of the
+news before her return. Daisy would be sure to write to him, and Edina
+had been requested to forward his letters to town.
+
+"It must have been rather a sudden thought of Mrs. St. Clare's, this
+going from home: was it not?"
+
+"Quite so, sir. It was Miss Lydia who started it, while the ladies
+were sitting in the drawing-room yesterday afternoon. Tabitha never
+heard a word about packing up, sir, till she was at her tea."
+
+Frank looked at his watch. There might still be time to catch his
+train if he started at once for the station. He set out; and just
+accomplished it. But that he did so was owing to the fact that the
+train, as usual, came up considerably behind its time.
+
+
+It is a great deal easier in this world to raise a storm than to allay
+one: and so Mr. Blase Pellet found to his cost. He had thoroughly
+aroused the public mind on the subject of the missing miner; and the
+public mind refused to be calmed again.
+
+Day by day, since the discovery in the register, did the astounding
+news of Frank's private marriage make a deeper impression upon Blase
+Pellet. He saw things now with very different eyes from what he had
+formerly seen them. He told himself that Rosaline's version of her
+intimacy with Mr. Raynor--namely, that it bore no particular intimacy,
+and had nothing hidden beneath its surface--was the truth. The relief
+to himself was wonderfully great. All his love for her, that he had
+been angrily trying to repress, increased tenfold: and he began to see
+that the love might indeed go on to fruition. At least, that if it did
+not do so, the fault would lie in his own insensate folly. If he could
+only stop this commotion about Bell, so that the man might rest where
+he was, undiscovered, he should make his way with Rosaline. But the
+public seemed anything but inclined to let it stop there: and Blase
+Pellet gave many a hard word to the said public. Just at present
+Trennach appeared to have nothing to do but to go about suggesting
+disagreeable surmises.
+
+One story led to a second; one supposition to another. From the first
+startling rumour, that Bell might be lying at the bottom of the shaft
+(as shown to Mr. Pellet in a remarkable dream), Trennach passed on to
+believing that he was there; and, next, to say that he must be
+searched for.
+
+In vain Blase Pellet, mortified, agitated, and repentant, sought to
+prove that Bell was not there; that no foundation could exist for the
+notion; that he was now fully convinced his dream had not been a dream
+at all, but the baseless fabric of a fancy. Trennach did not listen to
+him. Excitement had gone too far for that. It was just possible, of
+course, that poor Bell might not be in the pit; but they thought he
+was there; and, at any rate, they meant to see for themselves. As
+simple-minded, well-meaning Andrew Float expressed it: "Dreams didna
+come for nought." Blase Pellet could have bitten out his false tongue.
+How easy the future would now have seemed but for this storm! Frank
+Raynor removed from his path by marriage, his own success with
+Rosaline could only be a question of time: but if this stir, which he
+had invoked, could not be stilled, and it went on to any discovery,
+Rosaline would probably make it an excuse for throwing him off for
+ever. That it would in any case grieve and anger her frightfully, and
+that she would detect the falsity of his "dream," he knew by instinct;
+and Blase felt tempted to wish he had been born dumb.
+
+When we go out of our way to delude the world from interested motives,
+and do it, moreover, by a lie, the chances are that the step recoils
+unpleasantly upon us. In some way or other we are repaid in our own
+coin. It may not be immediately; it may not be for years to come; but
+rely upon it, it does come home to us sooner or later. We see the
+blind folly we were guilty of: not to speak of the sin: and we cry out
+in our flood-tide of repentance, Oh, that I had not quitted the
+straightforward path! As Blase Pellet was crying now.
+
+The owner of the land, one of those mine-owners whose wealth is
+fabulous, became interested in the case. He came forward, and gave
+orders that the pit should be examined, to ascertain whether or
+not the missing man was there. The necessary machinery was soon
+brought into requisition--where wealth commands, difficulties are
+lightened--and the Bottomless Shaft was searched.
+
+Yes. Josiah Bell was brought up to the surface. His attire was
+recognized as that which he had worn the day of his disappearance: and
+there remained no doubt that he had met his death that same night by
+falling down the pit.
+
+Amidst startling commotion, an inquest was called. Of course the
+question now was, how he got down there: a question that puzzled his
+friends and the world in general. For it was a well-known fact that
+Bell gave way to superstitious fancies, and would not be likely to
+approach the shaft alone at night.
+
+But no evidence came forward that could throw light on the mystery.
+Those who had seen him last in life--the pitmen with whom he had been
+drinking at the Golden Shaft, and his wife at home, who had been the
+last person, so far as was known, to exchange a word with him--told
+what they had to tell. Their testimony amounted to nothing. Neither,
+for that matter, did Mr. Blase Pellet's. Very much to his dismay, Mr.
+Pellet was summoned as a witness, and was sharply questioned by the
+coroner about his dream.
+
+And Blase, in sheer helplessness and some terror, took up the dream
+again; the dream which he had been trying lately to repudiate. No
+other course than to take it up seemed open to him, now that matters
+had come to this pass and Bell had been actually found. If he disowned
+the dream, the next inquiry would be, How then did you come to know
+anything of the matter: what told you that the man was lying there?
+So, with clouded face and uneasy voice, Mr. Blase gave the history of
+his dream: and when asked by a juryman why he had gone about lately
+protesting that he was sure he had not had any dream, he replied that,
+seeing the public were growing so excited, he had deemed it better to
+disavow it, thinking it might calm them down again. The coroner, who
+seemed to be unfortunately sceptical as to dreams in general, eyed the
+witness keenly, and made him repeat the dream--at least what he
+remembered of it--three times over. Blase declared he had never been
+able to recollect much of it, except the fact that he had seen Bell
+lying at the foot of the pit, dead. And then he had awakened in a
+state of inconceivable fright.
+
+"Had you any animosity against the deceased during his life?"
+questioned the coroner, still regarding the witness intently.
+
+"Oh dear, no, sir," returned Blase. "We were always the best of
+friends. He was a sort of relation of mine. At least his wife is."
+
+That no animosity had existed between them could be testified to by
+the community in general, as the coroner found. He was looking at
+Blase still.
+
+"And you positively state, young man, that you had no grounds
+whatever, except this dream, for suspecting or knowing that the
+deceased was down the shaft?"
+
+Blase coughed. "None."
+
+"You do not know how he got down?"
+
+"Good gracious I know! Not I, sir."
+
+Blase had answered readily, and with much appearance of earnestness.
+The coroner was conscious that dim doubts of Mr. Blase Pellet's strict
+veracity were floating in his own mind, chiefly arising from his
+incredulity as to dreams; but the doubts were not sufficient to act
+upon, neither did he perceive that they could be in any way supported.
+So he released the witness. And the inquest came to an end, the jury
+returning an open verdict--
+
+"That Josiah Bell met with his death through falling down the pit; but
+that what caused his fall there was no evidence to show."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+A SUBTLE ENEMY.
+
+
+"He never went near the pit of his own free will! He was lured to it
+and thrown into it. Or he was first killed, and then cruelly put there
+out of the way."
+
+The speaker was Mrs. Bell: who had at last assumed the widow's dress
+and cap. Her audience consisted of her daughter Rosaline, the Aunt
+Pellet from Falmouth, Blase Pellet, and two or three neighbours. The
+aunt and Rosaline had arrived from Falmouth to attend the funeral.
+Rosaline, at first, had absolutely refused to come; she "felt afraid,"
+she said, with much trembling and many bitter tears; she did not like
+to look upon the dead, even though it was her poor father: and she
+also felt too ill to travel. But John Pellet and his wife overruled
+these objections. They told her it was an "unnatural state of
+feeling;" one that might not be indulged: and the aunt, who was coming
+to Trennach herself, brought Rosaline with her, partly by persuasion,
+partly by force.
+
+Her plea of illness might indeed have been allowed. Thin, white, worn,
+with a manner that seemed to be for ever starting at shadows, Rosaline
+looked little like the gay and blooming girl once known to Trennach.
+Trennach gazed at her with amazed eyes, wondering what Falmouth could
+have done to her in that short period, or whether the Seven Whistlers,
+which had so startled her at home, could have followed her to that
+populous town. Sitting in her mother's kitchen, her back to the light,
+her cheek resting on her hand, Rosaline listened in silence to the
+conversation, two of the company especially regarding her--Blase
+Pellet and Nancy Tomson. Nancy openly avowed that she had never seen
+any young woman so changed in her life; while Blase Pellet, though
+mentally acknowledging the change, was taking in draughts of her
+wondrous beauty.
+
+"No living body of men have queerer fancies than miners, especially
+these Cornish miners: and poor Josiah, though he was not Cornish at
+all, as we know, had his," pursued Dame Bell, chiefly addressing her
+sister, a tall, thin woman, who had arrived fashionably attired in
+crape and bombazine, with a veil to her bonnet. Not that she wore her
+bonnet now, for this was the next morning, and the day of the funeral.
+
+"Hardly a man about here would venture close up to that shaft at
+night: and if you go out and ask them one by one, Sarah, you'll find I
+am telling you nothing but truth," pursued the widow. "Since Dan
+Sandon threw himself headlong in, and was killed, the men won't go
+near it for fear of seeing him. Neither would Bell; and----"
+
+"Perhaps he fell into it accidentally, Ann," interrupted Mrs. Pellet.
+
+"I don't say but he might have done so. If he was at the edge of the
+pit, looking down, or anything of that sort, he might have
+overbalanced himself. But I do say that he was not there alone. I ask
+what took him there at all; and I ask who was with him?"
+
+Pertinent questions. Rosaline, chancing to look up, met the gaze of
+Blase Pellet. Each started slightly, and dropped their eyes, as though
+to look at one another were a crime.
+
+"Let us put it down as an accident; for argument's sake," urged the
+widow. "That he was too close to the pit's mouth, and fell in. It
+might have been so. But in that ease, I repeat, he was not alone. At
+least one man must have been with him--perhaps more than one. Why did
+he, or they, not give the alarm? Why did he not come straight away,
+and say, 'Poor Bell has fallen into the shaft, and what's to be done?'
+Can any of you answer me that question?"
+
+"It stands to reason that that's what anybody would do," observed Mrs.
+Pellet. "But who could have been with him?"
+
+"Not waun o' tha men owns to it," put in Nancy Tomson. "What should
+heve taaken 'em up to that there ghashly shaaft at night, they aal
+ask; or Bell either?"
+
+"No, not one owns to it; and, as far as I can see, there was nothing
+to take them there," assented Mrs. Bell. "Therefore I say it was no
+accident. Bell was just carried there, living or dead, and put away
+out o' sight."
+
+"What shall you do about it?" asked Mrs. Pellet, in a scared tone.
+
+"What can I do but wait? Wait until some disclosure turns up."
+
+"If it never does turn up."
+
+"But it will turn up," confidently asserted Dame Bell.
+
+"So say I," spoke Nancy Tomson. "When once a thing o' this kind es led
+up to by dreams, it won't stop at the beginning. They dreams es
+strange indexes sometimes, and Mr. Blase Pellet there didna heve his
+for nothing. Without that dream the poor man might just heve laid on
+in thaat shaaft as he faalled, and never been found i' this world."
+
+Mr. Blase Pellet, listening to this, shot a glance of intense
+aggravation at the speaker. Rosaline looked up at him. It was a steady
+gaze this time, and one that betrayed unqualified contempt.
+
+"Was it a very bad dream?" asked his relative from Falmouth, this
+being the first opportunity she had had of questioning Blase upon the
+subject.
+
+"Bad enough," shortly replied Pellet; and, with the words, he made a
+sudden détour to the front-door, and took up his standing outside in
+the sunshine.
+
+The movement led to a general dispersion. Nancy Tomson and the other
+neighbours departed; Mrs. Pellet went upstairs; Dame Bell passed into
+the back-kitchen to see about their own and her lodgers' dinner: for
+the ordinary day's work must go on even on the saddest occasions; and
+Rosaline remained in the room alone.
+
+"I am very sorry I had that dream."
+
+Lifting her eyes, Rosaline saw the speaker beside her--Blase Pellet.
+
+"So am I," she shortly answered, in a significant way, that certainly
+gave him no encouragement to proceed.
+
+"And still more sorry that I spoke of it abroad, Rosaline: for I see
+that it is giving you pain."
+
+"Pain!" she ejaculated, a whole world of anguish in her tone: ay, and
+of resentment also.
+
+"But it shall be the endeavour of my life to atone to you for it,
+Rosaline. My best care, my truest love, shall be devoted to you. Daily
+and hourly----"
+
+"Be quiet, Blase," she interrupted, the flash in her eye, the hot
+flush upon her cheek, rendering her for the moment almost more than
+beautiful. "We will understand one another at once, and finally. To
+talk of such a thing as 'love,' or 'care,' to me is worse than
+useless. My path lies one way, your path lies another: it will not be
+my fault if they ever cross each other again."
+
+"You do not mean this," he said, after a pause.
+
+"I do mean it. I used to mean it: as you know. I shall mean it
+always."
+
+"Have you heard that Raynor is married?" asked Blase.
+
+"Yes," she answered in constrained tones, her flushed cheek fading to
+whiteness.
+
+"Then, perhaps, as he is out of our way, you will think of me,
+Rosaline. If not now----"
+
+"Neither now nor ever, Blase. Do not deceive yourself."
+
+With a quick movement, she evaded his outstretched hand that would
+have sought to detain her, and ran up the stairs. Leaving Mr. Blase
+Pellet excessively discomfited: but not as much so as a less hopeful
+swain would have been.
+
+"It was a little too soon to speak," reasoned he with himself: "I must
+wait a while."
+
+
+Of all the scenes connected with Bell's disappearance and his
+recovery, none caused more excitement than that of the funeral. It was
+fixed for a late hour--six o'clock in the afternoon. This was to
+enable the pitmen to be present. The Reverend Titus Backup made no
+sort of objection to it. Had they settled it for midnight, he had been
+equally agreeable. The hour for the interment came, and people flocked
+to it from far and near. Not only did the local miners attend, but
+also gangs of men from more distant mines. Mr. Backup had never seen
+such a crowd in his life. Near the grave a small space was left for
+Mrs. Bell and the other mourners; but in the churchyard and adjacent
+parts; including a portion of the Bare Plain, the spectators thronged.
+
+Rosaline was not there. Blase was. In right of his relationship to the
+Pellets of Falmouth, Blase had been invited to the funeral; and made
+one of the mourners, with a flow of crape to his hat. Whether Rosaline
+had meant to make one also did not clearly appear, though no one
+thought of doubting it; but just before the time of starting, she was
+seized with a fainting-fit: not quite losing consciousness, but lying
+back powerless in her chair, and looking white as death. Nancy Tomson,
+who was to be of the procession, was the first to recognize the
+dilemma it placed them in.
+
+"Whaat es to be done?" she cried. "It willna never do to keep _him_,
+and the paarson, and they folks waiting; but she caan't walk like
+thic!"
+
+"Him" applied to poor Bell. At least, to what remained of him. For the
+convenience of the inquest and other matters, he had been placed in a
+shelter bordering the Bare Plain, partly room, partly shed, when first
+brought up from the pit, and had not been removed from it. It was
+there that the mourners would meet the coffin and attend it to the
+church.
+
+"True," put in Mrs. Trim; who had deemed it neighbourly to look in
+upon the widow Bell at this sorrowful hour and see what was to be
+seen. "They funerals don't waait for nobody: specially when they heve
+been put off aalmost to sunset."
+
+"No; it will not do to keep it waiting," breathed Rosaline, with weak
+and trembling lips. "Do you go on; all of you. I will follow if I am
+able, and catch you up."
+
+Nancy Tomson feebly offered to remain with her, seeing that good
+feeling demanded as much consideration, but she did not at all mean
+the offer to be accepted, for she would not have missed the ceremony
+for the world. It was not every day she had the chance of filling a
+conspicuous position at a funeral; and such a funeral as this.
+Rosaline promptly declined her company, saying she felt much better
+now, and preferred to come after them alone.
+
+So the mourners departed, followed at a respectful distance by many
+neighbours and others, who had collected to watch and wait for their
+exit. The chief crowd had gathered about that other building, for
+which these were making their way. Men, women and children, all went
+tramping towards it across the Plain: and in a few minutes Bleak Row
+was as absolutely deserted as though it were a city of the dead.
+
+Rosaline slowly rose from her seat, dragged her chair outside, and sat
+down in the evening sunshine. Thankful was she to be alone. No eye was
+on her. The houses were empty; the Bare Plain, stretching out around
+and beyond, lay silent and still, save for that moving mass of human
+beings, pressing farther and farther away in the distance. The open
+air seemed necessary to her if she would continue to breathe. When
+somewhat more composed, she put up her hands in the attitude of
+prayer, bent forward till her forehead touched them, and sat with her
+eyes closed.
+
+A Prayer-book lay on her knee. She had brought it out, intending to
+follow the service, soon about to begin. But she could not do so.
+There she sat, never once moving her attitude, scattered passages of
+the service recurring now and again to her memory, and ascending to
+heaven from the depths of her anguished heart. Poor Rosaline Bell!
+There were moist eyes and wrung feelings amidst those mourners
+standing round the grave, but none of them could know anything of the
+desperate distress that was _her_ portion. None, none.
+
+But now, it was perhaps a somewhat singular coincidence that just as
+Frank Raynor had come unexpectedly upon that excited throng, collected
+round the Bottomless Shaft on the Bare Plain, a few nights before his
+departure for London, so he should in like manner come quite as
+unexpectedly upon this throng, gathered at Bell's funeral. The one had
+not surprised him more than the other did. He had been just a
+fortnight absent in London; this was the day of his return, and he was
+now walking home from the station. All the excitement consequent upon
+the finding of Bell had taken place during these two weeks of Frank's
+absence. There had been commotion (the result of Blase Pellet's
+"dream") before his departure, with much talking and surmising; but
+all movement in the matter had taken place since then.
+
+In a letter written to him by Edina, Frank had learnt that Bell was
+found. But he learnt nothing more. And he certainly had not
+anticipated coming upon the funeral, and this concourse of people
+collected at it, as he passed the churchyard on his way from the
+station to his uncle's, on this, the evening of his return.
+
+Before he knew what it all meant, or could quite make out whether his
+eyes were not playing him false, he found himself accosted by the
+clerk's wife. Mrs. Trim, seeing his surprise, told all she knew,
+intensely gratified by the favourable opportunity, and a good deal
+that she did not know. Frank listened in silence.
+
+"Yes, sir, he was found there, down deep in the pit shaaft, and they
+jurymen never brought et in waun way nor t'other, whether he was
+throwed down wilful, or faaled in accidental, but just left folks to
+fight out the question for their own selves. It were a dreadful thing
+for him, anyway, poor man; to heve been lying there aal thic while.
+
+"I never saw so many people at a funeral in my life," observed Frank,
+making no special comment on her words.
+
+He mechanically moved a step and looked over the hedge that skirted
+the graveyard. Mrs. Trim continued her information and remarks:
+detailing the mourners by name, and stating that Rosaline was seized
+with a faintness when they were starting, and so remained at home
+alone.
+
+"Alone!" cried Frank.
+
+"Aal alone, entirely," repeated Mrs. Trim. "Every soul from aal parts
+es here, Mr. Frank; as you may see. She said perhaps she'd follow ef
+she felt equal to't; but she's not come. She and her aunt talks o'
+going back to Falmouth to-morrow; but the widow, poor thing, es
+against it. Thaat's the aunt, sir: that tall thin woman."
+
+Frank Raynor rapidly debated a question with himself. He very much
+wished to say a few words to Rosaline in private: what if he seized
+this occasion for doing so? If she were indeed going away on the
+morrow, he might find no other opportunity. Yes: at any rate he would
+make the attempt.
+
+Turning somewhat abruptly from the clerk's wife, in the very middle of
+a sentence, Frank made a détour on the outskirts of the crowd, and
+strode rapidly away over the Bare Plain. Rosaline was sitting just in
+the same position, her head bowed, her hands raised. His footsteps
+aroused her.
+
+Respecting her grief as he had never respected any grief yet, feeling
+for her (and for many other things connected with the trouble) from
+the bottom of his heart, uncertain and fearful of what the ultimate
+end would be, Frank took her hand in silence. She gazed up at him
+yearningly, almost as though she did not at once recognize him, a
+pitiful expression on her face. For a short time he did not speak a
+word. But that which he had come to say must be said, and without
+delay: for already the ceremony had terminated, and the procession of
+mourners, with the attendant crowd, might be seen slowly advancing
+towards them across the Bare Plain.
+
+"It has almost killed me," moaned Rosaline. "I should be thankful that
+he is found, but for the fear of what may follow: thankful that he has
+had Christian burial. But there can be no more safety now. There was
+not very much before."
+
+"Nay," spoke Frank. "I think it is just the contrary. Whilst the
+affair lay in uncertainty, it might be stirred up at any moment: now
+it will be at rest."
+
+"Never," she answered. "Never so long as Blase Pellet lives. He has
+brought this much about; and he may bring more. Oh, if we could only
+escape from him!"
+
+Frank, still holding her hand, in his deep compassion, spoke to her
+quietly and kindly for a few moments. She seemed to listen as one who
+hears not, as one whom words cannot reach or soothe; her eyes were
+fixed on the ground, her other hand hung listless by her side. But
+now the first faint hum of the approaching crowd struck upon her
+half-dulled ear; she raised her eyes and saw for the first time what
+caused it. First in the line walked her mother and aunt, their black
+robes and hoods lighted up by the setting sun. And as if the sight of
+those mourning garments put the finishing touch to her already
+distracted mind and conveyed to it some sudden terror, Rosaline gave a
+faint scream and fell into a fit of hysterics, almost of convulsions.
+Frank could not leave her, even to dash indoors for water. He put his
+arm round her to support her.
+
+"Whaat on airth es it, sir?" demanded Nancy Tomson, who was the first
+to speak when the group of hooded women came up.
+
+"It is only an attack of hysterics, brought on by the sight of your
+approach," said Frank. "It is a sad day for her, you know; and she
+does not seem very strong. Will you be so good as to get some water."
+
+"I thought it must be your ghost, Mr. Frank," spoke poor Mrs. Bell, in
+her subdued tones, as she put back her hood. "Believing you were in
+London----"
+
+"I am back again," he shortly interrupted. "Seeing your daughter
+sitting here, I turned aside to speak a word of sympathy to her."
+
+The hysterics subsided as quickly as they had come on; and Rosaline,
+declining the water, rose and passed into the house. The women pressed
+in after her, leaving Blase Pellet outside. As to the crowd of
+voluntary attendants, they had already slackened their steps in the
+distance, and seemed uncertain what next to do: whether to disperse
+their various roads, or to remain talking with one another, and
+watching the house.
+
+This virtually left Frank and Blase Pellet alone. Blase took off his
+tall Sunday hat, and rubbed his brow with his white handkerchief, as
+though the heavy hat and the burning sun had left an unpleasant
+sensation of heat there. It was, however, neither the hat nor the sun
+that had put him into that access of warmth; it was the sight of Frank
+Raynor. Of Frank Raynor holding Rosaline's hand in his, holding
+herself, in fact, and bending over her with what looked like an
+impulse of affection.
+
+A most disagreeable idea had flashed into Mr. Pellet's head. A dim,
+indistinct idea, it is true, but none the less entertained. Married
+man though Frank Raynor was, as the world of Trennach knew, he might
+not have given up his love for Rosaline! He might be intending to keep
+that sentiment on; keep her to himself, in short, to laugh and chatter
+with whenever they should meet, to the destruction of other people's
+hopes, including those of Blase Pellet. And Blase, in the plenitude of
+his wrath, could have struck him to the earth as he stood.
+
+How mistaken people can be! How wildly absurd does jealousy make them!
+Nothing could be further from the thoughts of Frank Raynor: he was at
+honest peace with all the world, most certainly intending no harm to
+Rosaline, or to any one else. At peace even with that unit in it,
+Blase Pellet: and in the plenitude of his good-nature he addressed him
+cordially.
+
+"You have made one of the followers of poor Bell, I see. The affair is
+altogether a sad one."
+
+"Yes, it is," replied Blase Pellet. "We have been putting him into his
+grave; and matters, so far, are hushed up. But I don't say they are
+hushed for good. I could hang some people to-morrow, if I liked."
+
+The intense bitterness of his tone, the steady gaze of his meaning
+eyes, proved that this man might yet become a subtle enemy. Frank's
+courage fell.
+
+"What do you mean?" he asked. But for the very life of him he could
+not make his voice quite so free and independent as usual.
+
+"It does not matter saying now what I mean, Mr. Raynor. Perhaps I
+never shall say it. I would rather not: and it won't be my fault if I
+do. _You keep out of my way_, and out of somebody else's way, and I
+dare say I shall be still, and forget it. Out of sight, out of mind,
+you know, sir."
+
+Frank, deigning no reply, turned into the house to see if there was
+anything he could do for Rosaline. And then he walked away rapidly
+towards Trennach.
+
+
+Mrs. St. Clare had not yet returned to the Mount, but she was expected
+daily. Frank had received three or four letters from Daisy, re-posted
+to him in London by Edina, but not one of the letters had he been able
+to answer in return. They were going about from place to place in
+obedience to Lydia's whims, Daisy said, and it was simply impossible
+to give any certain address where a letter would find her. Every day
+for a week past had her mother announced her intention of turning her
+steps homeward on the morrow: and every morrow, as it dawned, had her
+steps been turned to some fresh place instead.
+
+But Frank was now in a fever of impatience for their return. The
+legacy of five hundred pounds was ready to be paid him, and he meant
+to take Daisy away on the strength of it. He had no settled plans as
+yet: these had been delayed by the uncertainty attending the larger
+sum promised him; the three thousand pounds. It is true that Frank had
+made inquiries in London; had seen two old-established medical men who
+were thinking of taking a partner. But each of them wanted a good sum
+paid down as equivalent; and neither of them seemed to be so sanguine
+on the score of Frank's coming into the three thousand pounds as he
+himself was. With his usual candour, he had disclosed the full
+particulars of the doubts, as well as of the expectations. So, with
+the future still undecided, here he was, at Trennach again: but only
+to make preparations for finally leaving it.
+
+With regard to the assistant for Dr. Raynor, he had been more
+fortunate, and had secured the services of one whom he judged to be in
+every way eligible. It was a Mr. Hatman. This gentleman was coming
+down on the morrow. He and Frank were to have travelled together, but
+Mr. Hatman could not complete his arrangements quite as soon as he had
+expected: and Frank dared not delay even another day, lest Mrs. St.
+Clare should return to the Mount. He could not leave Daisy to bear
+alone the brunt of the discovery of their marriage. Mr. Hatman was to
+have a three-months' trial. At the end of that period, if he were
+found to suit the doctor, and the doctor and the place suited him, he
+would remain for good.
+
+It was not often that Dr. Raynor found fault or gave blame. But on the
+night after Frank's return, when they were shut up alone together, he
+took Frank severely to task. Common report had carried the news of the
+marriage to him; and he expressed his opinion upon it very freely.
+
+"It was perhaps a hasty thing to do, sir, and was entered upon without
+much thought," admitted Frank, after he had listened. "But we did not
+care to lose one another."
+
+"Well, I will say no more," returned Dr. Raynor. "The thing cannot be
+undone now. There's an old saying, Frank, which is perhaps more often
+exemplified than people think for: 'Marry in haste and repent at
+leisure.' I wish this case of yours may prove an exception, but I can
+scarcely hope it."
+
+"We shall get along all right, Uncle Hugh."
+
+"I trust you may."
+
+"I told Hatman about it--he is a very nice fellow, and you will be
+sure to like him, uncle--and he wished me and Daisy good luck. He says
+his mother's was a runaway match, and it turned out famously."
+
+On the day but one following; that is, the day after Mr. Hatman's
+arrival at Trennach; Mrs. St. Clare and her daughters returned to the
+Mount: not reaching it, however, until late at night, for they had
+missed the earlier train they had meant to travel by.
+
+Frank went up betimes the next morning. His interview with Mrs. St.
+Clare took place alone. She was surprised and indignant at what he had
+to disclose--namely, that the marriage ceremony had passed between
+himself and her daughter Margaret. But, on the whole, she was more
+reasonable than might have been expected.
+
+"I wash my hands of it altogether, Mr. Frank Raynor, of her and of
+you, as I said I would--though you may be sure that when I spoke I
+never contemplated so extreme a step as this. But that I cannot
+disbelieve what, as you say, is so easily proved, I should have
+thought it impossible to be true. Daisy has always been docile and
+dutiful."
+
+"I will make her the best of husbands; she shall never know an hour's
+care with me," spoke Frank earnestly, his truthful blue eyes and the
+sincerity of his face expressing more than words could do.
+
+"But what of your means of keeping her?" asked Mrs. St. Clare, coldly.
+
+"By the aid of the three thousand pounds I have mentioned, I shall
+obtain a first-class practice in London," returned he in his most
+sanguine manner. "I trust you will not despise that position for her.
+If I am very successful, I might even some day be made a baronet, and
+Daisy would be Lady Raynor.
+
+"A charming prospect!" returned Mrs. St. Clare, in mocking tones, that
+rather took Frank and his earnestness aback. "Well, I wash my hands of
+you both, Mr. Francis Raynor. As Daisy has made her bed so must she
+lie on it."
+
+Daisy was summoned to the conference. She came in with timid steps;
+and stood, tearful and trembling, in her pretty morning dress of pale
+muslin. It chanced to be the one she was married in. Frank Raynor drew
+her arm within his, and stood with her.
+
+"You may well shrink from me, unhappy girl!" cried Mrs. St. Clare.
+"What have you done with your wedding-ring?"
+
+With trembling hands, Daisy produced it, attached to its blue ribbon.
+Frank took it from her, broke the ribbon, and placed the ring on its
+proper finger.
+
+"Never again to be taken off, my dear," he said. "Our troubles are
+over."
+
+She was to be allowed to remain at the Mount until the
+afternoon--which Mrs. St. Clare called a great concession--and then
+she and Frank would start on the first stage of their journey. Daisy
+might take a box of apparel with her; the rest should be forwarded to
+any address she might choose to give.
+
+Back went Frank again to Dr. Raynor's to prepare for his own
+departure. Very busy was he that day. Now talking with his uncle, now
+with Edina, now with Mr. Hatman; and now running about Trennach to
+shake hands with all the world in his sunny-natured way. A hundred
+good wishes were breathed by him. Even to Blase Pellet Frank gave a
+kindly word and nod at parting.
+
+It was late in the afternoon when he, in a close carriage provided for
+the occasion, went up to the Mount for Daisy. She was ready, and came
+out, attended to the door by Tabitha: Mrs. St. Clare and Lydia did not
+appear. Thence she and Frank drove to the station: and found they had
+five minutes to spare.
+
+Frank had been seeing to the luggage, when Daisy came out of the
+waiting-room to meet him. It was one of those small stations that
+contain only one waiting-room for all classes.
+
+"There's the most beautiful girl that I ever saw sitting inside,
+Frank," she said in an undertone.
+
+"Is there?" he carelessly remarked.
+
+"I could not keep my eyes from her, she is so lovely. But she looks
+very ill."
+
+They turned into the waiting-room together. And, to Daisy's extreme
+surprise, she, the next moment, saw Frank go up and speak to this
+girl; who was sitting there with an elderly companion, both in deep
+mourning. Daisy, her gaze fixed on the beautiful face, wondered who
+they could be.
+
+But there was no further time for waiting. The train came puffing in,
+and all was bustle. Daisy saw Frank again shake hands cordially with
+this delicate-looking girl, and whisper a few farewell words to her.
+She was evidently not departing by this train: probably by one going
+in the opposite direction.
+
+"Who was it, Frank?" questioned Daisy, when they were at length seated
+in the carriage.
+
+"It is Rosaline Bell. She and her aunt are going back to Falmouth."
+
+"_That_ Rosaline Bell!" exclaimed Daisy, her face flushing deeply.
+"I--I--did not know she was so beautiful."
+
+
+
+
+
+PART THE SECOND.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+AT EAGLES' NEST.
+
+
+In a luxurious chamber at Eagles' Nest, where the carpet was soft as
+moss to the tread, and the hangings were of silk, and the toilette
+ornaments were rich and fragile, sat Edina Raynor. Her elbow rested on
+the arm of the chair, her thoughtful face was bent on her hand, her
+eyes were taking in the general aspect of the room and its costly
+appurtenances.
+
+It was autumn weather now, and Edina had come on a short visit to
+Eagles' Nest. She had wished to put off the visit until the following
+spring, but had yielded to persuasion. One or other of them at Eagles'
+Nest was perpetually writing to her; and at last Dr. Raynor added his
+word to theirs. "There is no reason why you should not go, Edina," he
+said. "Hatman and I get on famously together, you know; and I am
+better than I was." And so Edina had made the long journey; and--here
+she was.
+
+Not yet had she been two days at Eagles' Nest; but in that short time
+she had found much to grieve her. Grieved she was, and full of
+anxiety. Every one of the family, from her uncle Francis and Mrs.
+Raynor downwards, had greatly changed. From the simple, unaffected
+people they had once been, they had transformed themselves into great
+personages with airs and assumptions. That was not the worst. That
+might have been left to find its own level in time: they would no
+doubt have returned to common sense. What pained Edina was the rate at
+which they lived. Carriages, horses, servants; dinners, dressing,
+gaiety. Where could it all end? Had the revenues of Eagles' Nest been
+twice what they were, the major would still have been spending more
+than his income. It was this that troubled Edina.
+
+And something else troubled her. The _tone_ of their mind seemed to be
+changing: not so much that of Major and Mrs. Raynor, as of the
+children. Speaking, of course, chiefly of the elder ones. Formerly
+they were warm-hearted, unassuming, full of sympathy for others. Now
+all thought seemed to be swallowed up in self; those who wanted help,
+whether in word or kind, might go where they would for it: selfishness
+reigned supreme. A latent dread was making itself heard in Edina's
+heart, that they were being spoiled by sudden prosperity. As many
+others have been.
+
+The first day she arrived, dinner was served at seven o'clock; a very
+elaborate one. Soup, fish, entrées, meats, sweets: all quite à la
+mode. Edina was vexed: she thought this had been done for her: but she
+was much more vexed when she found it was their daily style of living.
+To her, with the frugal notions implanted in her by her father's early
+straits, with her naturally simple tastes, and her conscientious
+judging of what was right and wrong, this profusion seemed sinful
+waste. And--they were all so grand! The faded cottons and washed-out
+muslins, had of course been discarded, but they had given place to
+costly gossamer fabrics and to silks that rustled in their richness.
+They were now just as much over-dressed as formerly they were the
+opposite. Alice had already put off black for her aunt Atkinson, and
+was in very slight mourning indeed: in lilac or white hues, with black
+or grey ribbons. With it all, they were acquiring a hard, indifferent
+tone, as though the world's changes and sorrows could never again
+concern them.
+
+"All this looks new," mused Edina, referring to the appurtenances of
+the room. "I don't fancy Aunt Ann had anything so modern: she liked
+old-fashioned furniture. With all these expenses, Uncle Francis will
+soon be in greater embarrassment than he ever was at Spring Lawn. And
+it is bad for Charley. Very bad. It will give him all sorts of
+extravagant ideas and habits."
+
+As if to escape her thoughts, she rose and stood at the window,
+looking forth on the landscape. It was very beautiful. There were
+hills near and far off, a wide extent of wood and snatches of gleaming
+water, green meadows, and a field or two of yellow corn that had
+ripened late. The leaves on the trees were already beginning to put on
+their autumn tints. On the lawn were many beds of bright flowers.
+Under a tree sat the major, sipping a champagne-cup, of which he was
+fond. Beyond, three young people were playing at croquet: Charles,
+Alice, and William Stane; the latter a son of Sir Philip Stane, who
+lived near them. Through one of the bare fields, where the corn had
+been already reaped and gathered, walked Mademoiselle Delrue, the
+French governess, and little Kate. Alfred was at school. Robert was
+generally with his nurse. Mademoiselle, a finished pianist,
+superintended Alice's music and read French with her; also took Robert
+for French: otherwise her duties all lay with Kate. It was, of course,
+well to have a resident French governess and to pay her sixty guineas
+a-year if they could afford it: but, altogether, one might have
+supposed Major Raynor had dropped into an income of five or six
+thousand a-year, instead of only two thousand.
+
+A shout and a laugh from the croquet lawn caused Edina to look towards
+the players. The game was at an end. At the same moment Alice saw
+Edina. She threw down her mallet, and ran upstairs.
+
+"Why don't you come out, Edina? It is a lovely afternoon."
+
+"I came up for my work, dear, and stayed thinking," replied Edina,
+drawing Alice to her side and keeping her arm round her.
+
+"What were you thinking about?"
+
+"Of many things. Chiefly about you and Charley. You both seem so
+changed."
+
+"Do we?"
+
+"And not for the better."
+
+Alice laughed. She was nearly eighteen now, and very pretty. Her head
+was lifted with a conscious air: she played with one of the lilac bows
+on her white dress.
+
+"I know what you mean, Edina: you heard mamma telling me this morning
+that I was growing vain."
+
+"No, I did not hear her." But Edina said no more just then.
+
+"Is Mr. Stane often here?" she asked, presently.
+
+"Oh--yes--pretty often," replied Alice with a vivid blush. "He and
+Charles are good friends. And--and he lives near us, you know."
+
+The blush and the hesitation seemed to hint at a story Edina had not
+yet glanced at. She had but been wondering whether this young Stane
+was a desirable companion for Charles: one likely to encourage him in
+idleness and extravagance, or to turn his ideas towards better things.
+
+"Mr. Stane is older than Charley, Alice."
+
+"Several years older. He is a barrister, and lives at his chambers in
+the Temple. Just now he is down here a great deal on account of his
+father's illness."
+
+"Are they rich people?"
+
+"No, I think not. Not very rich. Of course Sir Philip has plenty of
+money, and he has retired from practice. He used to be a lawyer in the
+City of London, and was knighted for something or other."
+
+"Is William Stane the only son?"
+
+"He is the second son. The eldest has the law business in the City;
+and there are two others. One is in the army."
+
+"I like his look," mused Edina, gazing down at the young man, who was
+now talking to Major Raynor. "And--I think I like his manners. His
+countenance has pride in it, though."
+
+Pride it certainly had: but it was a pleasant countenance for all
+that. William Stane was about middle height, with a somewhat rugged,
+honest, intelligent face, and an earnest manner. His eyes and hair
+were dark.
+
+"Won't you come down, Edina?"
+
+Edina turned at the appeal, and took up some work that lay on the
+table. "I was getting short of pocket-handkerchiefs," she said, in
+reference to it, "so I bought half-a-dozen new ones before I left
+home, and am now hemming them."
+
+Alice shrugged her pretty shoulders. "Let one of the maids hem them
+for you, Edina. The idea of your troubling yourself with plain work!"
+
+"The idea of my _not_ troubling myself!" returned Edina. "Was life
+made only for play, Alice, think you? At Spring Lawn hemming
+handkerchiefs was looked upon as a pastime, compared with the heavier
+work there was to do."
+
+"Oh, but those days have all passed," said Alice, somewhat
+resentfully, not at all pleased at having them recalled.
+
+"Yes; and you have all changed with them. By the way, Alice, I was
+thinking what a beautiful room this is. Is not the furniture new?"
+
+"All of it," replied Alice. "It was quite dingy when we came here; and
+papa and mamma thought that, as it was to be the state-room for
+visitors, they would have it done up properly."
+
+Edina sighed. "It is very nice; very; too good for me. I am not used
+to such a room."
+
+She sat down near Major Raynor under the weeping elm, and went on with
+her work. Charles, Alice, and young Stane began another game of the
+everlasting croquet. The major looked on and sipped his champagne-cup,
+the very image of intense satisfaction. Though he must have known that
+he was living at a most unjustifiable rate, and that it must again
+bring upon him the old enemy, debt, he looked as free from thought and
+care as any one can look in this world. Ay, and felt so, too. Not long
+yet had he been at this delightful place, Eagles' Nest; the time might
+be counted by weeks; but he had already flourished upon it. He had
+been stout enough before, but he was stouter now. The lost bonds or
+vouchers for the supposed accumulated savings left by Mrs. Atkinson,
+were depended upon by the major as a certain resource for any little
+extra expenses not justified by his present means. The bonds had not
+turned up yet, but he never doubted their coming to light some fine
+day. Hope, that most precious of our gifts, deceitful though it
+sometimes proves, was always buoyantly active in Major Raynor.
+
+It was on this very subject of the lost bonds that Edina began to
+speak. The conversation was led up to. She had scarcely sat down, when
+a servant came from the house and approached his master, saying that
+"Tubbs" had come again, and particularly wished his little account
+settled, if quite convenient to the major, as he had a payment to make
+up.
+
+"But it's not convenient," was the major's reply. "Tell Tubbs to come
+again next week."
+
+"Is it any matter of a few shillings or so?" asked Edina, looking up,
+really thinking it might be so, and that the major did not care to
+trouble himself to go indoors for the money. "I have my purse in my
+pocket, Uncle Francis, and----"
+
+"Bless you, my dear, it's a matter of fifteen or twenty pounds,"
+interrupted the major, complacently watching his servant, who was
+carrying away the message. "For new harness and saddles and things.
+Tubbs is a saddler in the village, and we thought we would give him a
+turn. Your aunt Ann employed the tradespeople of the neighbourhood,
+and we think it right to do the same."
+
+"Perhaps he wants his money, Uncle Francis?"
+
+"No doubt of it, my dear. I'll pay him when I can. But as to
+ready-money, I seem to be shorter of it than ever. All the spare cash
+that came to me at your aunt Ann's death has run away in a wonderful
+manner. Sometimes I set myself to consider what it can have gone in;
+but I might as well try to count the leaves on that walnut-tree."
+
+"I am very sorry," said Edina. "And you are living at so much
+expense!"
+
+"Oh, it will be all right when the bonds turn up," cried the major,
+cheerfully. "Street says, you know, there must be at least fifteen or
+twenty thousand pounds somewhere."
+
+"But he is not sure that there are any bonds to turn up, Uncle
+Francis. He does not _know_ that the money exists still. Aunt Ann may
+have speculated and lost it."
+
+"Now, my dear, is that likely?" cried the major. "Ann was never a
+speculating woman. And, if she had lost the money in any way, she
+would have been sure to say so. Street tells me she gave him all sorts
+of injunctions during the last year for the proper keeping-up of this
+estate, involving no end of cost; she wouldn't have done that if there
+hadn't been a substantial accumulation to draw upon."
+
+"And do you keep it up well, uncle?"
+
+"Why, how can I, Edina? I've no means to do it with."
+
+"But are the revenues of the estate not sufficient to keep it up?"
+
+"Well, they would be; but then you see I have so many expenses upon
+me."
+
+Edina did quite two inches of her hemming before speaking again. The
+course they had embarked upon at Eagles' Nest seemed to be a wrong one
+altogether: but she felt that it was not her place to take her uncle
+to task.
+
+"I'm sure I hope the money will be found, Uncle Francis."
+
+"So do I, my dear, and soon too. It shall be better for you when it
+is. Why Ann should have left my brother Hugh and you unmentioned in
+her will, I cannot tell; but it was very unjust of her, and I will
+make it up to you, Edina, in a small way. Frank is to have three
+thousand pounds when the money turns up, and you shall have the same."
+
+Edina smiled. She thought the promise very safe and very hopeless:
+though she knew the good-hearted speaker meant what he said.
+
+"Thank you all the same, Uncle Francis, but I do not want any of the
+money; and I am sure you will have ways and means for every shilling
+of it, however much it may prove to be. How long does Frank mean to
+remain abroad?"
+
+"Well, I conclude he is waiting for the money to turn up," said the
+major.
+
+"Is it wise of him to stay so long, do you think?"
+
+"I'm sure I don't know. When he receives the money he will return to
+London and settle down."
+
+And so they chatted on. Mrs. Raynor, who had been lying down with a
+headache, came out and joined them. The afternoon wore on, and croquet
+came to an end. Mr. Stane approached to say good-bye.
+
+"Won't you stay dinner?" asked the major.
+
+"I should like to very much indeed, but I must go home," replied the
+young man: and once more, as Edina watched the sincere face and heard
+the earnest tone, she decided that she liked him. "My father
+particularly desired me to be at home to dinner: he was feeling less
+well again."
+
+"Then you must stay with us next time," spoke the hospitable major.
+And Mr. Stane shook hands all round, leaving Alice to the last, and
+being somewhat longer over it with her than he need have been.
+
+His departure was the signal for a general break-up. Major and Mrs.
+Raynor went indoors, Charles strolled across the lawn with William
+Stane. Edina retained her place and went on with her work. Charles
+soon came back again, and sat down by her.
+
+"What a pity you don't play croquet, Edina! The last game was a good
+one."
+
+"If I had all my time on my hands as you have, Charley, and nothing to
+do with it, I might perhaps take up croquet. I can't tell."
+
+"I know what that tone means, Edina. You want to find fault with me
+for idleness."
+
+"I could find fault with you for a good many things, Charles. The
+idleness is not the worst of it."
+
+"What is the worst?" asked Charles, amused.
+
+"You have so changed in these few weeks that I ask myself whether you
+can be the same single-minded, simple-hearted young people who lived
+at Spring Lawn. I speak of you and Alice, Charley."
+
+"Circumstances have changed," returned Charles. "Alice"--for the girl
+at that moment came up to them--"Edina's saying we have so changed
+since leaving Bath that she wonders whether we are ourselves or not.
+How have we changed, pray, Edina?"
+
+"Your minds and manners are changing," coolly spoke Edina, beginning
+to turn down the hem on the other side of the handkerchief. "Do you
+know what sort of people you put me in mind of now?"
+
+"No. What?"
+
+"Of nouveaux riches."
+
+"For shame, Edina!"
+
+"You do. And I think the world must judge you as I judge. You are
+haughty, purse-proud, indifferent."
+
+"Go on," said Charley. "I like to hear the worst."
+
+Edina did go on. "_You_ are the worst, Charles. You seem to think the
+world was made for you alone. When that poor man came yesterday, a
+cottager, asking for some favour or assistance, or complaining of some
+hardship--I did not quite catch the words--you just flung him off as
+though he were not of the same species of created being as yourself.
+Have you a bad heart, Charles?"
+
+Charles laughed. "I think I have a very good heart--as hearts go. The
+man is troublesome. His name's Beck. He has been here three times, and
+wants I don't know what done to his wretched cottage; says Mrs.
+Atkinson promised it. My father can't afford to listen to these
+complaints, Edina: and if he did it for one, he must do it for all.
+The fact is, Aunt Ann did so much for the wretches that she spoilt
+them."
+
+"But you might have spoken kindly to the man. Civilly, at any rate."
+
+"Oh, bother!" cried Charley: who was much of a boy still in manner.
+"Only think of all those years of poverty, Edina: we ought to enjoy
+ourselves now. Why, we had to look at a shilling before we spent it.
+And did not often get one to spend."
+
+"But, Charley, you think _only_ of enjoyment. Nothing is thought of at
+Eagles' Nest but the pleasure and gratification of the present hour,
+day by day, as the days come round."
+
+"Well, I shall have enough work to do by-and-by, Edina. I go to Oxford
+after the long vacation."
+
+"And you go without any preparation for it," said Edina.
+
+"Preparation! Why, I am well up in classics," cried Charley, staring
+at Edina.
+
+"I was not thinking of classics. You have had no experience, Charles;
+you are like a child in the ways of the world."
+
+"I tell you, Edina, I am a very fair scholar. What else do you want at
+Oxford? You don't want experience there."
+
+"Well for you, Charley, if it shall prove so," was Edina's answer, as
+she folded her work to go indoors; for the evening was drawing on, and
+the air felt chilly. Changed they all were, more than she could
+express. They saw with one set of eyes, she with another.
+
+"What a tiresome thing Edina is getting!" exclaimed Alice to her
+brother, as Edina disappeared.
+
+"A regular croaker."
+
+"A confirmed old maid."
+
+The only one who could not be said to have much changed, was Mrs.
+Raynor. She was gentle, meek, simple-mannered as ever: but even she
+was drawn into the vortex of visiting and gaiety, of show and expense,
+of parade and ceremony that had set in. She seemed to have no leisure
+to give to anything else. This day was the only quiet day Eagles' Nest
+had during Edina's visit. Mrs. Raynor, with her yielding will, could
+not help herself altogether. But Edina was grieved to see that she
+neglected the religious training of her young children. Even the
+hearing of their evening prayers was given over to the governess.
+
+"Mademoiselle Delrue is a Protestant," said Mrs. Raynor; when, on this
+same evening, Edina ventured to speak a word upon the subject, as Kate
+and Robert said good-night and left the drawing-room.
+
+"I know she is," said Edina. "But none but a mother should, in these
+vital matters, train her children. You always used to do it, Mary."
+
+"If you only knew how fully my time and thoughts are occupied!"
+returned Mrs. Raynor, in a tone of great deprecation. "We live in a
+whirl here: and it is rather too much for me. And, to tell you the
+truth, Edina, I sometimes wonder whether the old life, with all its
+straitened means, was not the happier; whether we have in all respects
+improved matters, in coming to Eagles' Nest."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+APPREHENSIONS.
+
+
+The fine old house, Eagles' Nest, lay buried in snow. It was
+Christmas-tide, and Christmas weather. All the Raynor family had
+assembled within its walls: with the exception of Dr. Raynor and his
+daughter Edina. Charles had come home from keeping his first term at
+Oxford; Alfred from school; Frank Raynor and his wife had returned
+from their sojourn abroad.
+
+All these past months, during which we have lost sight of them, Frank
+and Daisy had been on the Continent. Almost immediately after their
+departure from Trennach, Frank, through his medical friend, Crisp, was
+introduced to a lady who was going to Switzerland with her only son; a
+sickly lad of fifteen, in whom the doctors at home had hardly been
+able to keep life. This lady, Mrs. Berkeley, proposed to Frank to
+travel with them as medical attendant on her son, and she had not the
+least objection to Frank's wife being of the party. So preliminaries
+were settled, and they started. Frank considered it a most opportune
+chance to have fallen to him while waiting for the missing money to
+turn up.
+
+But the engagement did not last long. Hardly had they settled in
+Switzerland when the lad died, and Mrs. Berkeley returned to England.
+Frank stayed on where he was. The place and the sojourn were alike
+pleasant; and, as he remarked to his wife, who knew but he might pick
+up a practice there, amongst the many English residents of the town,
+or those who flocked to it as birds of passage? Daisy was just as
+delighted to remain as he: they had funds in hand, and could afford to
+throw care to the winds. Even had care declared itself: which it did
+not. The young are sanguine, rarely gifted with much forethought.
+Frank and his wife especially lacked it. A few odds and ends of
+practice did drop into Frank, just a small case or so, at long
+intervals: and they remained stationary for some time in perfect
+complacency. But when Christmas approached, and Frank found that his
+five hundred pounds would not hold out for ever, and that the idea of
+a practice in the Swiss town was a mere castle in the air, he took his
+wife home again. By invitation, they went at once to Eagles' Nest.
+
+Christmas-Day passed merrily, and some of the days immediately
+succeeding to it. On New-Year's Day they were invited to an
+entertainment at Sir Philip Stane's; Major and Mrs. Raynor, Charles
+and Alice; a later invitation having come in for Frank and his wife.
+William Stane was a frequent visitor at Eagles' Nest whenever he was
+sojourning at his father's; and, though he had not yet spoken, few
+could doubt that the chief object to draw him there was Alice Raynor.
+
+Yes. Sunshine and merry-making, profusion and reckless expenditure
+reigned within the doors of Eagles' Nest; but little except poverty,
+distress and dissatisfaction existed beyond its gates. Mrs. Atkinson
+had ever been liberal in her care of the estate; the land had been
+enriched and thoroughly well kept; the small tenants and labourers
+were cared for. One thing she had not done so thoroughly as she might:
+and that was, improving the dwellings of the labourers. Repairs she
+had made from time to time; but the places were really beyond repair.
+Each tenement wanted one of two things: to be thoroughly renewed and
+to have an additional sleeping-room added; or else to be entirely
+rebuilt. During the last year of Mrs. Atkinson's life, she seemed to
+awaken suddenly to the necessity of doing something. Perhaps with the
+approach of death--which will often open our eyes to many things they
+remained closed to before--she saw the supineness she had been guilty
+of. Street the lawyer was hastily summoned to Eagles' Nest: he was
+ordered to procure plans and estimates for new dwellings. A long row
+of cottages, some thirty in number, was hastily begun. Whilst the
+builders were commencing their work, Mrs. Atkinson died. With nearly
+her last breath she charged Mr. Street to see that the new houses were
+completed, and that the old ones were also repaired and made healthy.
+
+Mr. Street could only hand over the charge to the inheritor of the
+estate, Major Raynor. The reader may remember that the major spoke of
+it to Edina. The lawyer could not do more than that, or carry out Mrs.
+Atkinson's wishes in any other way. And the major did nothing. His
+will might have been good enough to carry out the changes, but he had
+not the means. So much money was required for his own wants and those
+of his family, that he had none to spare for other people. The
+ready-money he came into had chiefly gone in paying back-debts: until
+these debts stared him in the face in black and white, he had not
+thought that he owed a tithe of them. It is a very common experience.
+So the new dwellings were summarily stopped, and remained as they
+were--so many skeletons: and the tumbledown cottages, wanting space,
+drainage, whitewash, and everything else that could render them decent
+and healthy, grew worse day by day, and became an eyesore to
+spectators and the talk of the neighbourhood.
+
+Not only did _they_ suffer from the major's want of money and
+foresight; many other necessities were crying out in like manner:
+these are only given as a specimen. Above all, he was doing no good to
+the land, spending nothing to enrich it, and sparing necessary and
+ordinary labour. Perhaps had Major Raynor understood the cultivation
+and requirements of land, he might have made an effort to improve his
+own: as it was, it deteriorated day by day.
+
+This state of things had caused a certain antagonism to set in between
+Eagles' Nest and its dependents. The labourers and their families
+grumbled; the major, conscious of the state of affairs, and feeling
+some slight shame in consequence, but knowing at the same time that he
+was powerless to remedy it, shunned them. When complainers came to the
+house he would very rarely see them. A warm-hearted man, he could not
+bear to hear them. Mrs. Raynor and the elder children, understanding
+matters very imperfectly, naturally espoused the major's cause, and
+looked upon the small tenants as a barbarous, insubordinate set of
+wretches, next door to insurgents. When the poor wives or children
+fell ill, no succour was sent to them from Eagles' Nest. With this
+estrangement reigning, Mrs. Raynor did not attempt to help: not from
+coldness of heart, but that she considered they did not deserve help,
+and, moreover, thought it would be flung back on her if she offered
+it.
+
+_There_ was where the shoe pinched the poor. The insufficient
+dwellings they were used to; though indeed with every winter and every
+summer they grew worse than ever; but they were not accustomed to
+utter, contemptuous neglect, as they looked upon it, in times of need.
+Mrs. Atkinson had always been a generous mistress: when sickness or
+sorrow or distress in times of little work set in, her hand and purse
+were ever open. Coals in severe weather, Christmas cheer, warm
+garments for the scantily clad, broth for the sick; she had furnished
+all: and it was the entire withdrawal of this aid that was so much
+felt now. The winter was unusually severe: it frequently is so after a
+very hot summer; labour was scarce, food was dear: and a great deal of
+illness prevailed. So that you perceive all things were not so
+flourishing in and about Eagle's Nest as they might have been, and
+Major Raynor's bed was not entirely one of rose-leaves.
+
+But, unpleasant things that are out of sight, are, it is said, for the
+most part out of mind--Mr. Blase Pellet told us so much a chapter or
+two ago--and the discomfort out-of-doors did not disturb the geniality
+within. At Eagles' Nest, the days floated on in a round of enjoyment;
+they seemed to be one continuous course of pleasure that would never
+end. Daisy Raynor had never been so happy in all her life: Eagles'
+Nest, she said, was perfection.
+
+The music and wax-lights, the flowers and evergreens rendered the
+rooms at Sir Philip Stane's a scene of enchantment. At least it seemed
+so to Alice Raynor as she entered upon it. William Stane stood near
+the door, and caught her hand as she and Charles were following their
+father and mother.
+
+"The first dance is mine, remember, Alice," he whispered. And her
+pretty cheeks flushed and a half-conscious smile parted her lips, as
+she passed on to Lady Stane.
+
+Lady Stane, a stout and kindly woman in emerald green, received her
+kindly. She suspected that this young lady might some day become her
+daughter-in-law, and she looked at her more critically than she had
+ever looked before. Alice could bear the inspection to-night. Her new
+white dress was beautiful; her face was charming, her manner modest
+and graceful. "The most lady-like girl in the room," mentally decided
+Lady Stane, "and no doubt will have a fair fortune. William might do
+worse."
+
+William Stane thought he might do very much worse. Without doubt he
+was truly attached to Alice. Not perhaps in the wild and ardent manner
+that some lovers own to: all natures are not capable of that: but he
+did love her, her only, and he hoped that when he married it was she
+who would be his wife. He was not ready to marry at present. He was
+progressing in his profession, but with the proverbial slowness that
+is said to attend the advancement of barristers: and he did not wish
+to speak just yet. Meanwhile he was quite content to make love
+tacitly; and he felt sure that his intentions were understood.
+
+His elder brother was not present this evening, and it fell to William
+to take his place, and dispense his favours pretty equally amongst the
+guests. But every moment that he could snatch for Alice, was given to
+her; in every dance that he could possibly spare her, she was his
+partner.
+
+"Have you enjoyed the evening, Alice?" he asked in a whisper, as he
+was taking her to the carriage at three o'clock in the morning.
+
+"I never enjoyed an evening half so much," was the shyly-breathed
+answer. And Mr. William Stane took possession of her hand as she
+spoke, and kept it to the last.
+
+If this light-hearted carelessness never came to an end! If freedom
+from trouble could only last for ever! Pleasure first, says some wise
+old saw, pain afterwards. With the dawn came the pain to Eagles' Nest.
+
+Amongst the letters delivered to Major Raynor--who, for a wonder, had
+risen betimes that morning, and was turning places over in his study
+in search of the lost bonds--was one from Oxford. It enclosed a very
+heavy bill for wine supplied to his son Charles: heavy, considering
+Mr. Charles's years and the duration of his one sojourn at the
+University. The major stared at it, with his spectacles, and without
+his spectacles; he looked at the heading, he gazed at the foot; and
+finally when he had mastered it he went into a passion, and ordered
+Charles before him. So peremptory was the summons, that Charles
+appeared in haste, half dressed. His outburst, when he found out what
+the matter was, quite equalled his father's.
+
+"I'm sure I thought you must be on fire down here, sir," said he.
+"What confounded sneaks they are, to apply to you! I can't understand
+their doing it."
+
+"Sneaks be shot!" cried the wrathful major. "Do you owe all this, or
+don't you? That's the question."
+
+"Why, the letter was addressed to _me!_" exclaimed Charles, who had
+been examining the envelope. "I must say, sir, you might allow me to
+open my own letters."
+
+But the major was guiltless of any want of faith. The mistake was the
+butler's. He had inadvertently placed the letter amongst his master's
+letters, and the major opened it without glancing at the address.
+
+"What does it signify, do you suppose, whether I opened it or you?"
+demanded the major. "Not that I did it intentionally. I should have to
+know of it: _you_ can't pay this."
+
+"They can wait," said Charles.
+
+"Wait! Do you mean to confess that you have had all this wine?"
+retorted the major, irascible for once. "Why, you must be growing
+into--into what I don't care to name!"
+
+"You can't suppose that I drank it, sir. The other undergrads give
+wine parties, and I have to do the same. They drink the wine; I
+don't."
+
+"That is, you drink it amongst you," roared the major; "and a nice
+disreputable lot you must all be. I understood that young men went to
+college to study; not to drink, and run up bills. What else do you
+owe? Is this all?"
+
+Charles hesitated in answering. An untruth he would not tell. The
+major saw what the hesitation meant, and it alarmed him. When we
+become frightened our wrath cools down. The major dropped into a
+chair, and lost his fierceness and his voice together.
+
+"Charley," said he in very subdued tones, "I have not the money to pay
+with. You know I haven't. If it's much, it will ruin me."
+
+"But it is not much, father," returned Charles, his own anger disarmed
+and contrition taking its place. "There may be one or two more
+trifling bills; nothing to speak of."
+
+"What on earth made you run them up?"
+
+"I'm sure I don't know; and I am very sorry for it," said Charles.
+"These things accumulate in the most extraordinary manner. When you
+fancy that you owe only a few shillings at some place or another, it
+turns out to be pounds. You have no idea what it is, father!"
+
+"Have I not!" returned the major, significantly. "It is because I have
+rather too much idea of the insidious way in which debt creeps upon
+one, that I should like to see you keep out of its toils. Charley, my
+boy, I have been staving off liabilities all my life, and haven't
+worried myself in doing it; but it is beginning to tell upon me now.
+My constitution's changing. I suppose I must be growing fidgety."
+
+"Well, don't let this worry you, father. It's not so very much."
+
+"Much or little, it must be paid. I don't want my son to get into bad
+odour at college; or have 'debtor' attached to his name. You are young
+for that, Mr. Charles."
+
+Charles remained silent. The major was evidently in blissful ignorance
+of the latitude of opinion current amongst Oxonians.
+
+"Go back and dress yourself, Charles; and get your breakfast over; and
+then, just sit down and make out a list of what it is you owe, and
+I'll see what can be done."
+
+Now in the course of this same morning it chanced that Frank Raynor
+took occasion to speak to his uncle about money matters, as connected
+with his own prospects, which he had not previously entered upon
+during his present stay. The major was pacing his study in a gloomy
+mood when Frank entered.
+
+"You look tired, Uncle Francis. Just as though you had been dancing
+all night."
+
+"I leave that to you younger men," returned the major, drawing his
+easy-chair to the fire. "As to being tired, Frank, I am so; though I
+have not danced."
+
+"Tired of what, uncle?"
+
+"Of everything, I think. Sit down, lad."
+
+"I want to speak to you, Uncle Francis, concerning myself and my
+plans," said Frank, taking a seat near the fire. "It is time I settled
+down to something."
+
+"Is it?" was the answer. The major's thoughts were elsewhere.
+
+"Why, yes; don't you think it is, sir? The question is, what is it to
+be? With regard to the bonds for that missing money, uncle? They have
+not turned up, I conclude?"
+
+"They have not turned up, my boy, or the money either. If they had,
+you'd have been the first to hear of it. I have been searching for
+them this very morning."
+
+"What is your true opinion about the money, Uncle Francis?" resumed
+Frank, after a pause. "Will it ever be found?"
+
+"Yes, Frank, I think it will. I feel assured that the money is lying
+somewhere--and that it will come to the surface sooner or later. I
+should be sorry to think otherwise; for, goodness knows, I need it
+badly enough."
+
+A piece of blazing wood fell off the grate. Frank caught the tongs,
+and put it up again.
+
+"And I wish it could be found for your sake, also, Frank. You want
+your share of it, you know."
+
+"Why, you see, Uncle Francis, without money I don't know what to be
+at. If I were single, I'd engage myself out as assistant to-morrow;
+but for my wife's sake I wish to take a better position than that."
+
+"Naturally you do, Frank, And so you ought."
+
+"It would be easy enough if I had the money in hand; or if I could
+with any certainty say when I should have it."
+
+"It's sure to come," said the major. "Quite sure."
+
+"Well, I hope so. The difficulty is--when?"
+
+"You must wait a bit longer, my boy. It may turn up any day. To-night,
+even: to-morrow morning. Never a day passes but I go ferreting into
+some corner or other of the old house, thinking I may put my hand upon
+the papers. They are lying in it somewhere, I know, overlooked."
+
+"But I don't see my way clear to wait. Not to wait long. We must have
+a roof over our heads, and means to keep it up----"
+
+"Why, you have a roof over your heads," interrupted the major. "Can't
+you stay here?"
+
+"I should not like to stay too long," avowed Frank in his candour. "It
+would be abusing your hospitality."
+
+"Abusing a fiddlestick!" cried the major, staring at Frank. "What's
+come to you? Is the house not large enough?--and plenty to eat in it?
+I'm sure you may stay here for ever; and the longer you stay the more
+welcome you'll be. We like to have you."
+
+"Thank you greatly, Uncle Francis."
+
+"Daisy does not want to go away; she's as happy as the day's long,"
+continued the major. "Just make yourselves comfortable here, Frank, my
+boy, until the money turns up and I can hand you over some of it."
+
+"Thank you again, uncle," said Frank, accepting the hospitality in the
+free-hearted spirit that it was offered. "For a little while at any
+rate we will stay with you; but I hope before long to be doing
+something and to get into a home of my own. I can run up to town once
+or twice a week and be looking out."
+
+"Of course you can."
+
+"Had you been a rich man, Uncle Francis, I would have asked you to
+lend me a thousand pounds, or so, to set me up until the nest-egg is
+found; but I know you have not got it to lend."
+
+"Got it to lend!" echoed the major in dismayed astonishment. "Why,
+Frank, my boy, I want to borrow such a sum myself. I wish to my heart
+I knew where to pick it up. Here's Charles must have money now: has
+come home from Oxford with a pack of debts at his back!"
+
+"Charles has!" exclaimed Frank in surprise.
+
+"And would like to make me believe that all the rest of the young
+fellows there run up the same bills! every man Jack of 'em! No, no,
+Master Charley: you don't get me to take _that_ in. Young men can be
+steady at college as well as at home if they choose to be. Charley's
+just one that's led any way. He is young, you see, Frank: and he is
+thrown there, I expect, amongst a few rich blades to whom money is no
+object, and must needs do as they do. The result is, he has made I
+don't know what liabilities, and I must pay them. Oh, it's all worry
+and bother together!"
+
+Not intentionally, but by chance, Frank, on quitting his uncle, came
+upon Charles. Looking into a room in search of his wife, there sat
+Charley at a table, pen, ink and paper before him, setting down his
+debts, as far as he could judge of and recollect them. Frank went in
+and closed the door.
+
+Charles let off a little of his superfluous discomfort in abuse of the
+people who had presumed to trouble him with the wine bill. Frank sat
+down, and drew the paper towards him.
+
+"I had no idea it could be as much as that, Frank," was the rueful
+avowal. "And I wish with all my heart their wine parties and their
+fast living had been at the bottom of the sea!"
+
+"_Is_ it as much, Charley?"
+
+"To tell the truth, I am afraid it's more," said Charles, with
+candour. "I've only made a guess at the other amounts, and I know I
+have not put down too much. That tailor is an awful man for sticking
+it on: as all the rest of the crew are, for the matter of that. I was
+trying to recollect how many times I've had horses and traps and
+things; and I can't."
+
+"Does Uncle Francis know it comes to all this?"
+
+"No. And I don't care to let him know. Things seem to worry him so
+much now. I do wish that lost money could be found!"
+
+"Just what your father and I have been wishing," cried Frank. "Look
+here, Charley. I have a little left out of my five hundred pounds. You
+shall have half of it: just between ourselves, you know: and then the
+sum my uncle must find will not look so formidable to him. Nay, no
+thanks, lad: would you not all do as much for me--and more? And we are
+going to stay on here for a time--and that will save expenses."
+
+It was simply impossible for Frank Raynor to see a difficulty of this
+kind, or indeed of any kind, and not help to relieve it if he had help
+in his power. That he would himself very speedily require the money he
+was now giving away, was only too probable: but he was content to
+forget that in Charley's need.
+
+The one individual person in all the house that Charles would have
+kept from the knowledge of his folly--and in his repentance he looked
+upon it as folly most extreme--was his mother. He loved her dearly;
+and he had the grace to be ashamed, for her sake, of what he had done,
+and to hope that she would never know it. A most fallacious hope, as
+he was soon to find, for Major Raynor had taken the news up to her
+with open mouth.
+
+She was sitting on the low sofa in her dressing-room that evening at
+dusk, when Charles went in. The firelight played on her face, showing
+its look of utter weariness, and the traces of tears.
+
+"What's the matter, mother?" he asked, sitting down beside her and
+taking her hand. "Are you ill?"
+
+"Not ill, Charley," she answered. "Only tired and--and out of sorts."
+
+"What has tired you? Last night, I suppose. But you have been resting
+all day."
+
+"Not last night particularly. So much fast living does not suit me."
+
+"Fast living!" exclaimed Charles in wondering accents. "Is it the
+gravies?--or the plum-puddings?"
+
+Mrs. Raynor could not forbear a smile. "I was not thinking of the
+table, Charles; the gravies and the puddings; but of our fast,
+artificial existence. We seem to have no rest at all. It is always
+excitement; nothing but excitement. We went out last night; we go out
+to dinner to-morrow night; people come here the next night. Every day
+that we are at home there is something; if it's not luncheon and
+afternoon-tea, it's dinner; and if it's not dinner, it's supper. I
+have to think of it all; the entertainments and the dress, and
+everything; and to go out when you go; and--and I feel it is getting
+rather too much for me."
+
+"Then lie up, mother, for a few days," advised Charles,
+affectionately. "Keep by your own fire, and turn things over to Alice
+and the servants. You will soon be all right again."
+
+Mrs. Raynor did not answer. She held Charles's hand in her own, and
+was looking steadfastly at the flickering blaze. A silence ensued.
+Charles lost himself in a train of thought.
+
+"What about this trouble of yours, Charley?"
+
+It was a very unpleasant awakening for him. Of all things, this is
+what he had wanted to keep from her. His ingenuous face--and it was an
+ingenuous face in spite of the wine bills--flushed deeply with
+annoyance.
+
+"It's what you need not have heard about, mother. I came away from
+Oxford without paying a few pounds I owe there; that's all. There need
+be no fuss about it."
+
+"I hear of wine bills, and horses, and things of that kind. Oh, my
+dear, _need_ you have entered into that fast sort of life?"
+
+"Others enter into it," said Charley.
+
+"It is not so much the cost that troubles me," added Mrs. Raynor, in
+loving tones; "that can be met somehow. It is----" She stopped as if
+wanting words.
+
+"It is what, mother?"
+
+"Charley, my dear, what I think of is this--that you may be falling
+into the world's evil ways. It is so easy to do it; you young lads are
+so inexperienced and confiding; you think all is fair that looks fair;
+that no poison lurks in what has a specious surface. And oh, my boy,
+you know that there is a world after this world; and if you were to
+fall too deeply into the ways of _this_, to get to love it, to be
+unable to do without it, you might never gain the other. Some young
+lads that have fallen away from God have not cared to find Him again;
+never have found Him.
+
+"There has been no harm," said Charley. "And I assure you I don't
+often miss chapel."
+
+"Charley, dear, there's a verse in Ecclesiastes that I often think
+of," she resumed in low sweet tones. "All mothers think of it, I
+fancy, when their sons begin to go out in the world."
+
+"In Ecclesiastes?" repeated Charley.
+
+"The verse that Edina illuminated for us once, when she was staying at
+Spring Lawn. It was her doing it, I think, that helped to impress it
+so much on my memory."
+
+"I remember it, mother mine." And the words ran through Charley's
+thoughts as he spoke.
+
+"Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth and let thy heart cheer thee in
+the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the
+sight of thine eyes: but know thou, that for all these things God will
+bring thee into judgment."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+A TIGER.
+
+
+The late spring flowers were blooming; the air was soft and balmy.
+Easter was rather late; in fact, April was passing; and when Easter
+comes at that period, it generally brings sunshine with it.
+
+Eagles' Nest, amidst other favoured spots, seemed to be as bright as
+the day was long. Once more Major Raynor had all his children about
+him; also Frank and Daisy. For anything that could be seen on the
+surface, merry hearts reigned; none of them seemed to have a care in
+the world.
+
+Frank decidedly had not. Sanguine and light-hearted, he was content as
+ever to let the future take care of itself. Yielding to persuasion, he
+still stayed on at Eagles' Nest. His wife looked forward to being laid
+up in the course of a month or two: and where, asked the major, could
+she be better attended to than at Eagles' Nest? Daisy, of course,
+wished to remain; she should feel safe, she said, in the care of Mrs.
+Raynor: and who would wish to run away from so pleasant a home? Twenty
+times at least had Frank gone up to town to see if he could pick up
+any news, or hear of anything to suit him. Delusive dreams often
+presented themselves to his mental vision, of some doctor, rich in
+years and philanthropy, who might be willing to take him in for
+nothing, to share his first-rate practice. As yet the benevolent old
+gentleman had not been discovered, but Frank quite believed he existed
+somewhere.
+
+Another thing had not been discovered: the missing money. But Major
+Raynor, sanguine as ever was his nephew, did not lose faith in its
+existence. It would come to light some time he felt certain; and of
+this he never ceased to assure Frank. Embarrassments decidedly
+increased upon the major, chiefly arising from the want of ready cash;
+for the greater portion of _that_ was sure to be forestalled before it
+came in. Still, a man who enjoys from two to three thousand a-year
+cannot be so very badly off: money comes to the fore somehow: and on
+the whole Major Raynor led an easy, indolent, and self-satisfied life.
+Had they decreased their home expenses, it would have been all the
+better: and they might have done that very materially, and yet not
+touched on home comforts. But neither Major nor Mrs. Raynor knew how
+to set about retrenchment: and so the senseless profusion went on.
+
+"What is there to see, Charley?"
+
+The questioner was Frank. In crossing the grounds, some little
+distance from home, he came upon Charles Raynor. Charles was craning
+his neck over a stile, by which the high hedge was divided that
+bordered the large, enclosed, three-cornered tract of land known as
+the common. On one side of the common were those miserable dwellings,
+the neglected cottages: in a line with them ran the row of skeletons,
+summarily stopped in process of erection. On the other side stood some
+pretty detached cottages, inhabited by a somewhat better class of
+people; whilst this high hedge--now budding into summer bloom,
+and flanked with a sloping bank, rich in moss and weeds and wild
+flowers--bordered the third side. In one corner, between the hedge and
+the better houses, flourished a small grove of trees. It all belonged
+to Major Raynor.
+
+"Nothing particular," said Charley, in answer to the question. "I was
+only looking at a fellow."
+
+Frank sent his eyes over the green space before him. Three or four
+paths traversed it in different directions. A portion of it was railed
+off by wooden fencing, and on this some cattle grazed; but on most of
+it grass was growing, intended for the mower in a month or two's time.
+Frank could not see a soul; and said so. Some children, indeed, were
+playing before the huts; but Charles had evidently not alluded to
+them: his gaze had been directed to the opposite side, near the grove.
+
+"He has disappeared amongst those trees," said Charles.
+
+"Who was it?" pursued Frank: for there was something in his young
+cousin's tone and manner suggestive of uneasiness; and it awoke his
+own curiosity.
+
+Charles turned and put his back against the stile. He had plucked a
+small twig from the hedge, and was twirling it about between his lips.
+
+"Frank, I am in a mess. Keep a look-out yonder, and if you see a
+stranger, tell me."
+
+"Over-run the constable at Oxford this term, as before?" questioned
+Frank, leaping to the truth by instinct.
+
+Charles nodded. "And I assure you, Frank," he added, attempting to
+excuse himself, "that I no more intended to get into debt this last
+term than I intended to hang myself. When I went down after Christmas,
+I had formed the best resolutions in the world. I told the mother she
+might trust me. No one could have wished to keep straighter than I
+wished: and somehow----"
+
+"You didn't," put in Frank at the pause.
+
+"I have managed to fall into a fast set, and that's the truth,"
+confessed Charles. "And I think the very deuce is in the money. It
+runs away without your knowing it."
+
+"Well, the tradespeople must wait," said Frank, cheerfully; for he was
+just as genial over this trouble as he would have been over pleasure.
+"They have to wait pretty stiffly for others.
+
+"The worst of it is, I have accepted a bill or two," cried Charley,
+ruefully. "And--I had a writ served upon me the last day of term."
+
+"Whew!" whistled Frank. "A writ?"
+
+"One. And I expect another. Those horrid bills--there are two of
+them--were drawn at only a month's date. Of course the time's out; and
+the fellow wouldn't renew; and I expect there'll be the dickens to
+pay. The amount is not much; each fifty pounds; but I have not the
+ghost of a shilling to meet it with."
+
+"What do you owe besides?"
+
+"As if I knew! There's the tailor, and the bootmaker, and the livery
+stables, and the wine---- Oh, I can't recollect."
+
+Had Frank possessed the money, in pocket or prospective, he would have
+handed out help to Charles there and then. But he did not possess it.
+He was at a nonplus.
+
+"When once a writ's served, they can take you, can't they?" asked
+Charles, stooping to pluck a pink blossom from the bank, the twig
+being bitten away to nothing.
+
+"I think so," replied Frank, who had himself contrived to steer clear
+of these unpleasant shoals, and knew no more of their power than
+Charles did. "By the way, though, I don't know. Have they got
+judgment?"
+
+"Judgment? What's that? Sure to have got it if it's anything bad. And
+I think I am going to be arrested," continued Charles, dropping his
+voice, and turning to face the common again. "It's rather a blue
+look-out. I should not so _much_ mind it for myself, I think: better
+men than I have had to go through the same: but it's the fuss there'll
+be at home."
+
+"The idea of calling yourself a man, Charley! You are only a boy yet."
+
+"By the way, talking of that, Jones of Corpus told me a writ could not
+be legally served upon me as I was not of age. Jones said he was sure
+of it. What do you think, Frank?"
+
+"I don't know. To tell you the truth, Charley, I am not at home in
+these things. But I should suppose that the very fact of the writ
+having been served upon you is a proof that it can be done, and that
+Jones of Corpus is wrong. William Stane could tell you: he must have
+all points of law at his fingers' ends."
+
+"But I don't care to ask William Stane. It may be they take it for
+granted that I am of age. Any way, I was served with the writ at
+Oxford: and, unless I am mistaken," added Charles, gloomily, "a fellow
+has followed me here, and is dodging my heels to arrest me."
+
+"What are your grounds for thinking so, Charley? Have you seen any
+suspicious person about?"
+
+"Yes, I have. Before you came up just now, I----"
+
+The words were broken off suddenly. Charles leaped from the corner of
+the stile to hide behind the hedge. Some individual was emerging from
+the grove of trees; and he, it was evident, had caused the movement.
+
+"If he turns his steps this way, tell me, Frank, and I'll make a dash
+homewards through the oak-coppice," came the hurried whisper.
+
+"All right. No. He is making off across the common."
+
+"That may be only a ruse to throw me off my guard," cried Charley,
+from the hedge. "Watch. He will come over here full pelt in a minute.
+He looks just like a tiger, with that great mass of brown beard. He is
+a tiger."
+
+Frank, leaning his arms on the stile, scanned the movements of the
+"Tiger." The Tiger was at some distance, and he could not see him
+clearly. A thin tiger of middle height, and apparently approaching
+middle age, dressed in a suit of grey, with a slouching hat on his
+brows and a fine brown beard. But the Tiger, whosoever he might be,
+appeared to entertain no hostile intentions for the present moment,
+and was strolling leisurely in the direction of the huts. Presently
+Frank spoke.
+
+"He is well away now, Charley: too far to distinguish you, even should
+he turn round. There's no danger."
+
+Charley came out from the hedge, and took up his former position at
+the extreme corner of the stile, where he was partly hidden. Every
+vestige of colour had forsaken his face. He was very young still: not
+much more than a boy, as Frank had said: and unfamiliar with these
+things.
+
+"I saw him yesterday for the first time," said he to Frank. "I chanced
+to be standing here, as we are now, and he was walking towards me
+across the common. Whilst wondering, in a lazy kind of way, who he was
+and what he wanted here, a rush of fear came over me. It occurred to
+me that he might be a sheriff's officer. Why the idea should flash on
+me in that sudden manner--and the fear--I cannot tell; but it did so.
+I made the best of my way indoors, and did not stir out again. This
+morning I said to myself what a simpleton I had been--that I had no
+grounds for fearing the man, except that he was a stranger, and that
+my own mind was full of bother; and I came out, all bravery. The first
+person I saw, upon crossing this stile, was he; just in the same spot,
+near the trees, in which I saw him yesterday; and the rush of fear
+came over me again. It's of no good your laughing, Frank: I can't help
+it: I never was a coward before."
+
+"I was not laughing. Did he see you?"
+
+"Not to-day, I think. Yesterday he did, looked at me keenly; and here
+he is again in the same spot! I am sure he is looking for me. If I
+were up in funds, I'd be off somewhere and stay away."
+
+"What about home--and Oxford?"
+
+"There's the worst of it."
+
+"And you could not stay away for ever."
+
+"For ever, no. But, you see, that money may turn up any day, and put
+all things straight."
+
+"Well, you may be mistaken in the man, Charley: and I hope you are."
+
+William Stane was at home for these Easter holidays, and still the
+shadow of Alice Raynor. It chanced that this same afternoon he and
+Alice encountered the Tiger--as, from that day, Charles and Frank both
+called him in private. Strolling side by side under the brilliant
+afternoon sun, in that silence which is most eloquent of love, with
+the birds singing above them, and the very murmur of the trees
+speaking a sweet language to their hearts, they came upon this
+stranger in grey, sitting on the stump of a tree. The trees, mostly
+beeches, were thick about there; the path branched off sharply at a
+right angle, and they did not see him until they were close up: in
+fact, William Stene had to make a hasty stop or two to pass without
+touching him. Perhaps it was his unexpected appearance in that spot,
+or that it was not usual to see strangers there, or else his peculiar
+look, with the slouching hat and the bushy beard; but certain it was
+that he especially attracted their attention; somewhat of their
+curiosity.
+
+"What a strange-looking man!" exclaimed Alice, when they had gone on
+some distance. "Did you not think so, William?"
+
+"Queerish. Does he live here? I wonder if he is aware that he is
+trespassing?"
+
+"Papa lets any one come on the grounds who likes to," replied Alice.
+"He is a stranger. I never saw him before."
+
+"Oh, it must be one of the Easter excursionists. Escaped from smoky
+London to enjoy a day or two of pure air in the Kentish Wolds."
+
+"As you have done," said she.
+
+"As I have done. I only wish, Alice, I could enjoy it oftener."
+
+Words and the tone alike bore a precious meaning to her ear. His eyes
+met hers, and lingered there.
+
+"I am getting on excellently," he continued. "By the end of this year,
+I have no doubt I shall be justified in--in quitting my chambers and
+taking a house. Perhaps before that."
+
+"Look at that hawthorn!" exclaimed Alice, darting to a hedge they were
+now passing, for she knew too well what the words implied. "Has it not
+come out early! It is in full bloom."
+
+"Shall I gather some for you?"
+
+"No. It would be a pity. It looks so well there, and every one who
+passes can enjoy it. Do you know, I never see the flowering hawthorn
+but I think of that good old Scotch song, 'Ye banks and braes.' I
+don't know why."
+
+"Let us sit down here," said he, as they came to a rustic seat under
+the trees. "And now, Alice, if you would sing that good old song, the
+charm would be perfect."
+
+She laughed. "What charm?"
+
+"The charm of--everything. The day and hour, the white and pink may
+budding in the hedges, the wild flowers we crush with our feet, the
+blue sky and the green trees, the sunshine and the shade, the singing
+birds and the whispering leaves, and--yourself."
+
+Not another word from either of them just yet. William Stane had
+allowed his hand to fall on hers. Her head was slightly turned from
+him, her cheeks were glowing, her heart was beating: it was again
+another interval of that most sweet and eloquent silence.
+
+"Won't you begin, Alice? The birds 'warbling through the flowering
+thorn' are waiting to hear you. So am I."
+
+And as if she had no power to resist his will, she began at once,
+without a dissenting murmur, and sang the song to the end. Excepting
+the birds above them, there were no listeners: no rover was likely to
+be near that solitary spot. Her voice was sweet, but not loud; every
+syllable was spoken distinctly. To sit there for ever, side by side,
+and not be disturbed, would be a very Eden.
+
+
+     "And my fake lover stole my rose,
+      But ah! he left the thorn wi' me."
+
+
+Scarcely had the echoing melody died away, when the unexpected sound
+of footsteps was heard approaching, and there advanced into view a
+woman well known to Alice; one Sarah Croft, the wife of a man employed
+on the estate. They lived in one of the most miserable dwellings on
+the common, but were civil and quiet; somewhat independent in manner,
+but never joining in the semi-rebellion that reigned. She looked
+miserably poor. Her blue cotton gown, though clean, was in rags, her
+old shawl would hardly hang together, the black bonnet on her head
+might have been used for frightening the crows. She dropped a curtsy
+and was passing onwards, when Alice inquired after her sick children.
+
+"They be no better, Miss Raynor, thank you," she answered, halting in
+front of the bench. "The little one, she be took sick now, as well as
+the two boys. I've a fine time o't.
+
+"Why don't you have a doctor to them?" said Alice.
+
+"More nor a week agone I went up to the parish and telled them I must
+have a doctor to my children: but he never come till yesterday."
+
+"What did he say?"
+
+"I'll tell ye what he said, Miss Raynor, if ye like. He said doctors
+and doctors' stuff was o' no good, so long as the houses remained what
+they was--pes-ti-fe-rus. I should not have remembered the word,
+though, but for Jetty's lodger repeating of the very self-same word to
+me a minute or two agone. I've just passed him, a-sitting down under
+yonder beeches."
+
+Alice, as well as William Stane, instantly recalled the man in grey
+they had seen there. "Jetty's lodger!" repeated Alice. "Who is he?"
+
+"Some stranger staying in the place, Miss Raynor. He come into it one
+morning, a week agone, and took Jetty's rooms which was to let."
+
+"What is he staying here for?"
+
+"To pry into people's business, I think," replied the woman. "He's
+always about, here, there, and everywhere; one can't stir out many
+yards but one meets him. Saturday last, he walks right into our place
+without as much as knocking; and there he turns hisself round and
+about, looking at the rotten floor and the dripping walls, and
+sniffing at the bad smell that's always there, just as if he had as
+much right inside as a king. 'Who is your landlord?' says he, 'and does
+he know what a den this is?' So I told him that our landlord was Major
+Raynor at Eagles' Nest, and that he did know, but that nothing was
+done for us. He have gone, I hear, into some o' the other houses as
+well."
+
+The woman's tone was quite civil, but there could be no doubt that, in
+her independence, she was talking at Alice as the daughter of Major
+Raynor.
+
+"As I passed him now he asked me whether my sick children was
+better--just as you have, Miss Raynor. I told him they was worse. 'And
+worse they will be, and never better, and all the rest of you too,'
+says he, 'as long as you inhabit them pes-ti-fe-rus dens!'"
+
+Alice drew up her head in cold disdain, vouchsafing no further word,
+and feeling very angry at the implied reproach. The woman dropped a
+slight curtsy again, and went on her way.
+
+"How insolent they all are!" exclaimed Alice to Mr. Stane. "That Sarah
+Croft would have been abusive in another moment."
+
+"Their cottages are bad," returned the young man, after a pause.
+"Could nothing be done, I wonder, to make them a little better?"
+
+"It is papa's business, not mine," remarked Alice, in slight
+resentment. "And the idea of that stranger presuming to interfere!
+wonder what he means by it?"
+
+"I do not suppose he intends it as interference: he is looking about
+him by way of filling up his time: it must hang rather monotonously on
+his hands down here, I presume, away from his books and ledgers,"
+remarked Mr. Stane. "It is the way of the world, Alice; people must be
+busy-bodies and look into what does not concern them, for curiosity's
+sake. Nay, just a few moments longer," he said, for she had risen to
+depart. "To-morrow I shall have no such pleasant and peaceful seat to
+linger in; I shall not have you. How delightful it all is!"
+
+And so, the disturbing element forgotten, they sat on in the balmy
+air, under the blue of the sky, the green foliage about them springing
+into life and beauty, type of another Life that must succeed our own
+winter, and listening to the little birds overhead warbling their
+joyous songs. Can none of us, grey now with care and work and years,
+remember just such an hour spent in our own sweet spring-time?--when
+all things around spoke to our hearts in one unmixed love-strain of
+harmony, and the future looked like a charmed scroll that could only
+bring intense happiness in the unrolling thereof?
+
+"Take my arm, Alice," he half whispered, when they at length rose to
+return.
+
+She did take it, her face and heart glowing. Took it timidly and with
+much self-consciousness, never having been in the habit of taking it,
+or he of offering it. Her hand trembled as it lay gently upon his arm;
+each might have heard the other's heart beating. And so in the bliss
+of this, their first love-dream, they sauntered home through the
+grounds, choosing pleasant glades and mossy by-ways; and arrived to
+find Eagles' Nest in a commotion.
+
+Mrs. Frank Raynor had been taken seriously and unexpectedly ill.
+Doctors were sent for; servants ran about. And William Stane said
+farewell, and went home from an afternoon that would ever remain as a
+green spot on his memory. It was his last day of holiday.
+
+
+With the morning, Daisy lay in great danger. The illness, not
+anticipated for a month or two, had come on suddenly. In one sense of
+the word the event was over, but not the danger; and the baby, not
+destined to see the light, was gone.
+
+It was perhaps unfortunate that on this same morning Frank should
+receive an urgent summons to Trennach. Edina wrote. Her father was
+very ill; ill, it was feared, unto death; and he most earnestly begged
+Frank to travel to him with all speed, for he had urgent need of
+seeing him. Edina said that, unless her father should rally, three or
+four days were the utmost limits of life accorded to him by the
+doctors: she therefore begged of Frank to lose no time in obeying the
+summons; and she added that her father desired her to say the journey
+should be no cost to him.
+
+"What a distressing thing!" cried Frank, in blank dismay, showing the
+letter to the major. "I cannot go. It is impossible that I can go
+whilst Daisy lies in this state."
+
+"Good gracious!" said the major, rubbing his head, as he always did in
+any emergency. "Well, I suppose you can't, my boy. Poor Hugh!"
+
+"How can I! Suppose I were to go, and--and she died?"
+
+"Yes, to be sure. You must wait until she is in less danger. I hope
+with all my heart Hugh will rally. And Daisy too."
+
+Frank sat down and wrote a few words to his uncle, telling him why he
+could not start that day, but that he would do so the moment his
+wife's state allowed it. He wrote more fully, but to the same effect,
+to Edina. Perhaps on the morrow, he added. The morrow might bring
+better things.
+
+But on the morrow Daisy was even worse. A high fever had set in. Frank
+wrote again to Trennach, but he could not leave Eagles' Nest. Some
+days went on; days of peril: Daisy was hovering between life and
+death. And on the first day that a very faint indication of
+improvement was perceptible and the medical men said she might now
+live, that there was a bare chance of it, but no certainty; that same
+day the final news came from Trennach, and it was too late for Frank
+to take the journey. Dr. Raynor was dead.
+
+The tidings came by letter from Edina: written to Frank. It was only a
+short note, giving a few particulars. Within this note, however, was a
+thicker letter, sealed and marked "Private."  Frank chanced to be
+alone at the moment, and opened it with some curiosity. On a single
+sheet of enveloping paper, enclosing a letter from Dr. Raynor, were
+the following lines from Edina.
+
+
+"My poor father was so anxious to see you, dear Frank, at the last,
+that it disturbed his peace. Of course you could not come, under the
+circumstances; he saw that; but he said over and over again that your
+not coming was most unfortunate, and to you might be disastrous. At
+the hours of the day and night when a train was due, nothing could
+exceed the eagerness with which he looked for you, his restlessness
+when it grew too late to admit of hope that you had come. The day
+before he died, when he knew the end was approaching and he should not
+live to see you, he caused himself to be propped up in bed, and had
+pen-and-ink brought that he might write to you. He watched me seal up
+the letter when it was finished, and charged me to send it to you when
+all was over, but to be sure to enclose it privately, and to tell you
+to open and read it when you were alone.--E. R."
+
+
+Sending Edina's short note announcing the death of her father to Major
+Raynor by a servant, Frank carried these lines and the doctor's letter
+to his chamber: thereby obeying injunctions, but nevertheless
+wondering at them very much. What could his uncle have to say to him
+necessitating secrecy? Breaking the seal, he ran his eyes over the
+almost illegible lines that the dying hand had traced.
+
+
+"MY DEAR NEPHEW FRANK,
+
+"I wanted to see you; I ought not to have put it off so long. But this
+closing scene has come upon me somewhat suddenly: and now I cannot
+write all I ought to, and should wish: and I must, of necessity, write
+abruptly.
+
+"_Are you conscious of being in any danger?_ Have you committed any
+act that could bring you under the arm of the law? If so, take care of
+yourself. A terrible rumour was whispered in my ears by Andrew Float,
+connecting you with the hitherto unexplained fate of Bell the miner. I
+charged Float to be silent--and I think he will be, for he is a kind
+and good man, and only spoke to me that I might put you on your
+guard--and I questioned Blase Pellet, from whom Float had heard it.
+Pellet was sullen, obstinate, would not say much; but he did say that
+he could hang you, and _would_ do it if you offended him or put
+yourself in his way. I could not get anything more from him, and it
+was not a subject that I cared to inquire into minutely, or could
+pursue openly.
+
+"My boy, you best know what grounds there may be for this
+half-breathed accusation; whether any or none. I have scarcely had a
+minute's peace since it reached me, now three weeks ago: in fact, it
+has, I believe, brought on the crisis with me somewhat before it would
+otherwise have come. At one moment I say to myself, It is a malicious
+invention, an infamous lie; I know my boy Frank too well to believe
+this, or anything else against him: the next moment I shudder at the
+tale and at the possibility of what may have been enacted. Perhaps
+through passion--or accident--or--I grow confused: I know not what I
+would say.
+
+"Oh, my boy, my nephew, my dear brother Henry's only child! my heart
+is aching with dismay and doubt. I do believe you are innocent of all
+intention to do harm; but--My sight is growing dim. _Take care of
+yourself_. Hide yourself if need be (and you best know whether there
+be need, or not) from Blase Pellet. It is he who would be your enemy.
+I see it; and Andrew Float sees it; though we know not why or
+wherefore. In any obscure nook of this wide world, shelter yourself
+from him. Don't let him know where you are. If he does indeed hold
+power in his hand, it may be your only chance of safety: _he said it
+was so_. I can write no more. God bless and help you! Farewell.
+
+"Your loving and anxious
+
+"UNCLE HUGH."
+
+
+Frank Raynor may have drawn many a deep breath in his life, but never
+so deep a one as he drew now. Mechanically he folded the letter and
+placed it in an inner pocket.
+
+"Are you there, sir?"
+
+The question came from outside the door, in the voice of one of the
+servants. Frank unbolted it.
+
+"Lunch is on the table, sir."
+
+"Is it?" returned Frank, half bewildered. "I don't want any to-day,
+James. Just say so. I am going out for a stroll."
+
+The letters from Cornwall were never delivered at Eagles' Nest until
+the midday post. Frank took his hat, and went out; bending his steps
+whithersoever they chose to take him, so that he might be alone.
+Strolling on mechanically, in deep thought, he plunged into a dark
+coppice, and asked himself what he was to do. The letter had disturbed
+him in no ordinary degree. It had taken all his spirit, all his
+elasticity out of him: and that was saying a great deal for Frank
+Raynor.
+
+"I wish I could hang Blase Pellet!" he broke forth in his torment and
+perplexity. "He deserves it richly. To disturb my poor uncle with his
+malicious tongue! Villain!"
+
+But Frank was unconsciously unjust. It was not Blase Pellet who had
+disturbed Dr. Raynor. At least, he had not done it intentionally. To
+do Blase justice, he was vexed that the doctor should have heard it,
+for he held him in great respect and would not willingly have grieved
+him. In an evil moment, when Blase had taken rather more than was
+quite necessary--an almost unprecedented occurrence with him--he had
+dropped the dangerous words to Andrew Float.
+
+"Yes, I must hide from him, as my uncle says," resumed Frank,
+referring to the advice in the letter. "There's no help for it. He
+could be a dangerous enemy. For my own sake; for--every one's sake, I
+must keep myself in some shelter where he cannot find me."
+
+Emerging on to the open ground, Frank lifted his eyes, and saw,
+standing near him, the man in grey, whom they had christened the
+Tiger. He was leaning against the tree with bent head and folded arms,
+apparently in deep thought. All in a moment, just as a personal fear
+of him had rushed over Charles, so did it now rush over Frank. His
+brain grew dizzy.
+
+For the idea somehow struck him that the man was not wanting Charles
+at all. But that he might be an emissary of Blase Pellet's, come
+hither to look after himself and his movements.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+AT JETTY'S.
+
+
+John Jetty was the local carpenter. A master in a small way. His
+workshop was in the village, Grassmere, near to Eagles' Nest; his
+dwelling-house was on the common already described. In this house he
+lived with his sister, Esther Jetty; a staid woman, more than ten
+years older than himself: he being a smart, talkative, active, and
+very intelligent man of two or three-and-thirty. The house, which they
+rented of Major Raynor, was larger than they required, and Esther
+Jetty was in the habit of letting a sitting and bedroom in it when she
+could find a desirable lodger to occupy them.
+
+On the Thursday in Passion Week, when she was in the midst of her
+house-cleaning for Easter, and in the act of polishing the outside of
+the spare sitting-room window, in which hung a card with "Lodgings"
+inscribed on it, she noticed a man in grey clothes sauntering up from
+the direction of the railway-station, an overcoat on his arm, and a
+good-sized black bag in his hand.
+
+"Some traveller from London," decided Esther Jetty, turning to gaze at
+him; for a stranger in the quiet place was quite an event. "Come down
+to spend Easter."
+
+The thought had scarcely crossed her mind, when, somewhat to her
+surprise, the stranger turned out of the path, walked directly towards
+her, and took off his hat while he spoke.
+
+"Have you lodgings to let?" he asked. "I see a card in your window."
+
+"Yes, sir; I have two rooms," said she, respectfully, for the courtesy
+of the lifted hat had favourably impressed her, and the tones of his
+voice were courteous also, not at all like those of an individual in
+humble station. "What a fine beard!" she thought to herself. "How
+smooth and silky it is!"
+
+"I want to stay in this place a few days," continued he, "and am
+looking for lodgings. Perhaps yours would suit me."
+
+Esther Jetty hastened to show the rooms. They were small, but clean,
+comfortable, and prettily furnished: and the rent was ten shillings
+per week.
+
+"It is not too much, sir, at this season of the year, when summer's
+coming on," she hastened to say, lest the amount should be objected
+to. "I always try to make my lodgers comfortable, and cook for them
+and wait on them well. The last I had--a sick young woman and her
+little girl--stayed here all the winter and spring: they only left
+three weeks ago."
+
+The stranger's answer was to put down a sovereign. "That's the first
+week's rent in advance," said he. "With the change you can get me some
+mutton chops for my dinner. I shall not give you much trouble." And he
+took possession of the rooms at once.
+
+As the days had gone on, only a few as yet, Esther Jetty found that
+his promise of not giving much trouble was kept. She had never had a
+lodger who gave less. He lived very simply. His dinner generally
+consisted of two mutton chops; his other food chiefly of eggs and
+bread-and-butter. It was glorious weather; and he passed nearly all
+his time out-of-doors.
+
+Not a nook or corner of the immediate neighbourhood escaped his keen
+eye, his, as it seemed, insatiable curiosity. He penetrated into the
+small dwelling-houses, good and bad, asking questions of the inmates,
+making friends with them all. He would stand by the half-hour side by
+side with the out-door labourers, saying the land wanted this and that
+done to it, and demanding why it was not done. But, there could be no
+doubt that he was even more curious in regard to the Raynor family,
+and especially to its eldest son, than he was as to the land and its
+labourers: and the latter soon noticed that if by chance Charles
+Raynor came into sight, the stranger would stroll off, apparently
+without aim, towards him; and when Charles turned away, as he
+invariably did, the man followed in his wake at a distance. In short,
+it would seem that his chief business was to look surreptitiously
+after some of the inmates of Eagles' Nest; and that his visits to the
+land and the cottages, and his disparaging remarks thereupon, were
+probably only taken up to pass the time away. These opinions, however,
+grew upon people as time went on, rather than at the beginning of his
+stay.
+
+Easter week passed. On the following Sunday the stranger went to
+church; and, after the service began, took up a place whence he had
+full view of the large square pew belonging to Eagles' Nest. On Easter
+Sunday he had sat at the back of the church, out of sight. Charles,
+Alice, and Frank were in the pew to-day, with the governess and little
+Kate: Mrs. Raynor was at home with Frank's wife, then lying
+dangerously ill; the major had not come. This was two days before they
+received news of Dr. Raynor's death. Charles was rendered miserably
+uncomfortable during the service by the presence of the Tiger opposite
+to him--as might be read by any one in the secret of his fears, and
+was read by Frank. Never did Charles raise his eyes but he saw those
+of the Tiger fixed on him. In fact, the Tiger studied the faces in
+Major Raynor's pew more attentively than he studied his book.
+
+"He is taking toll of me that he may know me again: I don't suppose he
+knew me before, or his work would have been done and over," thought
+Charles. "What a precious idiot I was to come to church! Thank Heaven,
+he can't touch me on a Sunday." And when the service was ended, the
+Tiger coolly stood in the churchyard and watched the family pass him,
+looking keenly at Charles.
+
+He had in like manner watched them into church. From a shady nook in
+the same churchyard, he had stood, himself unseen, looking at the
+congregation as they filed in. When the bell had ceased, and the last
+person seemed to have entered, then the Tiger followed, and put
+himself in the best place for seeing the Raynors. It was, however, the
+first and last time Charles was annoyed in a similar manner. On
+subsequent Sundays, the Tiger, if he went to church at all, was lost
+amidst the general congregation.
+
+On this same Sunday evening, John Jetty found himself invited to take
+a pipe with his lodger. They sat in the arbour in the back-garden,
+amidst the herbs, the spring cabbages, and the early flowers. Jetty
+never wanted any inducement to talk. He was not of a wary nature by
+any means, and did not observe how skilfully and easily the thread of
+his discourse was this evening turned on the Raynors and their
+affairs. No man in the place could have supplied more correct
+information to a stranger than he. He was often at work in the house,
+was particularly intimate with Lamb the butler, who had lived with
+Mrs. Atkinson; as had two or three of the other head servants; and
+they had the family politics at their fingers' ends. Mrs. Raynor had
+brought one servant from Spring Lawn; the nurse; the woman knew all
+about her branch of the family, Frank included, and had no objection
+to relate news for the new people's benefit, who in their turn
+repeated it to Jetty. Consequently Jetty was as much at home in the
+family archives as the Raynors were themselves.
+
+"Is the estate entailed on the major's son?" questioned the Tiger, in
+a pause of the conversation.
+
+"I don't think it's strictly entailed on him, sir, but of course he'll
+have it," was Jetty's answer. "Indeed, it is no secret that the major
+has made a will and left it to him. Mrs. Atkinson bequeathed it
+entirely to the major: she didn't entail it."
+
+"Who was Mrs. Atkinson?" asked the Tiger.
+
+"Why, the possessor of the estate before him," cried Jetty, in accents
+full of surprise. To him, familiar for many years with Eagles' Nest
+and its people, it sounded strange to hear any one asking who Mrs.
+Atkinson was. "She was an old lady, sir, sister to the major, and it
+all belonged to her. He only came into it last year when she died."
+
+"Had she no sons?"
+
+"No, sir; not any. I never heard that she did have any. Her husband
+was a banker in London; he bought this place a good many years ago.
+After his death Mrs. Atkinson entirely lived in it."
+
+"Then--it is sure to come to the major's eldest son?"
+
+"As sure as sure can be," affirmed Jetty, replenishing his pipe at his
+lodger's invitation. "The major would not be likely to will it away to
+anybody else."
+
+"I saw two young men in the pew to-day: one quite young, scarcely out
+of his teens, I should say; the other some years older. Which of them
+was the son?"
+
+"Oh, the youngest. The other is a nephew; Mr. Frank Raynor. He is very
+good-looking, he is: such a pleasant face, with nice blue eyes and
+bright hair. Not but what Mr. Charles is good-looking, too, in a
+different way."
+
+"Mr. Charles looks to me like an insolent young puppy," freely
+commented the Tiger. "And has a haughty air with it: as though he were
+king of the country and all the rest of us were his subjects." The
+probability was that Charles had honoured the staring Tiger with all
+the haughty and insolent looks he could call up throughout the
+service.
+
+"Well, he is a bit haughty sometimes," acknowledged the carpenter.
+"Folks have found him so. He is just home from Oxford, sir, and I
+fancy has been spending pretty freely there: Lamb just gave me a hint.
+But if you want pleasant words and cordial manners, you must go to the
+nephew, Mr. Frank.
+
+"What is _he_ doing here?" dryly asked the stranger, after a pause.
+
+"He is a doctor, sir."
+
+"A doctor? Is he in practice here?"
+
+"Oh no. He is waiting to set up in London, and staying down here till
+he does it."
+
+"What is he waiting for?"
+
+"Well, sir, for money, I guess. The Raynors are open-natured people
+and don't scruple to talk of things before their servants, so that
+there's not much but what's known. When the late Mrs. Atkinson died, a
+good deal of stir arose about some money of hers that could not be
+found: thousands and thousands of pounds, it was said. It could
+neither be found, nor the papers relating to it."
+
+"Is it not found yet?" asked the Tiger, stroking his silky beard.
+
+"Not yet. The major is anxiously waiting for it: not a day passes,
+Lamb says, but he is sure to remark that it may turn up the next. Mr.
+Frank Raynor is to have some of this money to set him up in
+practice."
+
+"Did Mrs. Atkinson not leave any money to him? He must have been a
+relation of hers?"
+
+"Oh yes, she left him money. I forget what it was now--a good sum,
+though."
+
+"Why does he not set up with that?" questioned the Tiger, wonderingly.
+
+"He has spent it, sir. He and his young wife went abroad, and lived
+away, I suppose. Any way, the money's gone, Lamb says. But Mr. Frank's
+as nice a fellow as ever lived."
+
+"Did he----" began the stranger, and then broke off, as if in doubt
+whether or not to put the question: but in a moment went on firmly.
+"Did he ever live at Trennach, in Cornwall?"
+
+"Trennach?" repeated Jetty, considering. "Yes, sir, I think that's
+where he did live. Yes, I'm sure that is the name. He was in practice
+there with another uncle, one Dr. Raynor, and might have stopped there
+and come into the practice after him. A rare good opening for him,
+it's said: but he preferred to go elsewhere."
+
+"Preferred to travel and see the world," spoke the stranger,
+cynically. "Are Major Raynor's revenues good ones?"
+
+"Well, sir, I know in Mrs. Atkinson's time this estate was said to
+bring in a clear two thousand a-year. And Major Raynor had of course
+an income before he came into it: but that, I hear, is only an
+annuity, and goes from him at his death."
+
+"Then, if his revenues amount to that--from two to three thousand
+a-year--how is it that he does not do the repairs necessary on the
+estate, and keep up the land, and help to ameliorate the condition of
+the wretched serfs about him?" demanded the stranger.
+
+Jetty shook his head. "I don't think it is the will that's wanting,"
+replied he. "The major seems to be thoroughly good-hearted and Lamb
+says he is one of the easiest masters he could ever wish to serve. No,
+it is not the will, sir, that is wanting."
+
+"What is it, then? The money?"
+
+Jetty nodded in the affirmative. "They live at such a rate, you see,
+sir; and it is said the major had a lot of back-debts to pay when he
+came here. Altogether, he has nothing to spare."
+
+"Then he ought to have," asserted the Tiger, tapping thoughtfully at
+his pipe, that lay on the table. "Does he never visit his tenements
+and see into things for himself?"
+
+"No, sir, not he. 'Twould be too much exertion for him. He can't walk
+about much; never comes beyond his own garden gates; never."
+
+The Tiger paused. "This young Frank Raynor's wife, who is lying ill:
+had she no money?"
+
+"No, sir. Her family have plenty, I expect, for they live at some
+grand place down in Cornwall. But she has none. It was a runaway match
+that she and Mr. Frank made, so she couldn't expect any."
+
+The Tiger nodded two or three times, as if in self-commune. "I see,"
+said he: "these Raynors are an improvident set altogether.
+Thoughtless, cruel, selfish, upstart and purse-proud. From what little
+I have noticed during the few days I have been here, that is the
+impression they make upon me: and what you say confirms it."
+
+He took his pipe up from the table as he spoke, knocked the ashes out
+of it, and put it into its case. An intimation, John Jetty thought,
+that their social hour was at an end: and he went away, respectfully
+wishing his lodger good-evening.
+
+
+Easter was over; and the time for going back to Oxford for the coming
+term was past. Charles Raynor had not gone up to keep it. He had to
+confess to the major that he did not care to go back without a good
+sum of money, apart from his allowance; he might have said, dared not
+go. It was not convenient to find the sum: so the major decided that
+Charles must miss that one term, and keep the next.
+
+The weeks went on. Charles had in a degree got over his dread of the
+Tiger--who still remained on in his lodgings--for it was now very
+evident that if that mysterious man's mission at Grassmere were to
+take him into custody for debt, it might have been accomplished ere
+this. Nevertheless, so strongly do first impressions retain their hold
+upon us, his dislike of the man continued in all its force.
+
+But, as Charles's alarm subsided, Frank's increased. The more evident
+it became that Charles was not the Tiger's object, the more surely did
+it seem to Frank that he himself was. It was a fear he could not speak
+of, but his secret uneasiness was great. Neither he nor Charles could
+fail to see that the man's daily business appeared to be that of
+watching the movements of the Raynor family, especially those of the
+two young men. Not watching offensively, but in a quiet, easy,
+unobtrusive manner. Frank fully believed that the man was a secret
+emissary of Blase Pellet's sent there to see that he did not escape
+his toils.
+
+Major Raynor had never seen this man: and Frank and Charles, each for
+his own private and individual reasons, had refrained from speaking
+about him. Of late the major had chiefly confined himself to the
+gardens immediately attached to his house. There were two reasons for
+this: the one, that he had now grown so very stout as to render
+walking a trouble to him, and when he did go out it was in a carriage;
+the other, that he never went beyond his inner fence but he was sure
+to meet one or other of those wretched malcontents; who thought
+nothing of accosting him and asking him to do this, and to do that. So
+matters remained pretty stationary: the major indolently nursing
+himself in his easy-chair on the lawn; the young men enjoying their
+private discomforts; and the Tiger peering into every conceivable spot
+open to him, and making himself better acquainted with the general
+shortcomings of the Raynors, in regard to the estate and the people on
+it, than they were themselves.
+
+It was Saturday evening. Alice sat at the piano in the drawing-room,
+singing songs in the twilight to the intense gratification of William
+Stane, who stood over her. The young barrister frequently ran down
+home the last day of the week, to remain over the Sunday with his
+family. As a matter of course, he spent a great part of the time at
+Eagles' Nest. The major sat back in the room, dozing; Charles was
+listlessly turning over a pile of music. Eagles' Nest had given an
+afternoon party that day; a fashionable kettledrum; but the guests had
+departed.
+
+"I can scarcely see," said Alice, as her lover placed a new song
+before her. She was in the dress she had worn in the afternoon: a
+black gauze trimmed with white ribbons, with silver bracelets and
+other silver ornaments, and looked charmingly lovely. They were in
+mourning for Dr. Raynor.
+
+"I'll ring for lights," said Charles. "I can't see, either."
+
+The talking had aroused the major. "We don't want lights yet," said
+he. "It is pleasanter as it is."
+
+"Sing the songs you know by heart," whispered William Stane. "After
+all, they are the best and sweetest."
+
+Presently Lamb came in of his own accord, with the wax-lights. The
+major, waking up again, made no objection now, but forbade the
+shutters to be closed.
+
+"It's a pity to shut out that moonlight," said he. Not that the
+moonlight could have interested him much, for in another minute he was
+asleep again. He had grown strangely drowsy of late. So the room was
+lighted up, and the moonlight streamed in at the window.
+
+Frank entered. He had been sitting upstairs with his wife, who was
+still very ill. In fact, this had been an unusually prolonged and
+critical sickness. Taking up his position at the window, Frank
+listened silently to the song then in progress. Charles came up to
+him.
+
+"How is she to-night, Frank?"
+
+"No better. If---- Look there!" he suddenly exclaimed, his voice sunk
+to a whisper.
+
+Some one had walked deliberately by, outside the window, gazing at
+what there might be to see within the room. Was it the Tiger? Frank's
+heart beat nineteen to the dozen.
+
+"Did you see him, Charley?"
+
+"Who was it?" whispered Charley.
+
+"I'm not quite sure; he passed so quickly. The Tiger, I conclude. Yes,
+I feel sure of it. I know the cut of his hat."
+
+"What consummate impudence, to be trespassing here!"
+
+They both left the room, made their way to a side-door, and looked
+out. No one was in sight; and yet, whosoever it was that had passed
+must have come that way.
+
+"He has turned back," said Charley: and as he spoke he advanced
+cautiously amidst the shrubs that skirted that end of the house, and
+looked round at the front.
+
+No. Not a soul was to be seen or heard. Had he scampered straight
+across the lawn and made off? It seemed like it.
+
+"I wonder what it's coming to!" cried Charley. "Could we have him
+warned off the estate, I wonder?"
+
+"Hardly," spoke Frank, in a dreamy tone.
+
+"I _cannot_ think what he does here," exclaimed Charles. "If he had
+any evil intentions, he--he would have acted upon them before now."
+
+"You mean as to yourself, Charley. Rely upon it, you are out of the
+matter altogether."
+
+"Who's in it, then?"
+
+"Myself, perhaps."
+
+The answer was given quietly and easily: but there was something in
+its tone that kept Charles from regarding it as a jest.
+
+"_You_ are not in debt, are you, Frank?" he cried hastily.
+
+"Not that I know of."
+
+"I declare for the moment I thought you must be in earnest," said
+Charles, relieved. "It is uncommonly strange what the fellow can want
+here!"
+
+Frank said no more. They paced about for some time, without their
+hats, in the bright moonlight, talking of other matters. In crossing
+the path to the house; they met Jetty the carpenter coming away from
+it, a frail in his hand, out of which a saw was standing upright. The
+man had been doing some repairs indoors.
+
+"Jetty," said Charles, accosting him, and speaking upon impulse, "who
+is the man that lodges with you? The fellow with the great brown
+beard, who goes about in a suit of grey."
+
+"I don't know who he is in particular, sir," replied Jetty. "He is a
+very quiet lodger, and pays regular."
+
+"What is he down here for?"
+
+"Well, I think for his health," said Jetty. "He told us he had not
+been well for some time before he came to Grassmere."
+
+"What is his name?"
+
+"That I don't know, sir----"
+
+"Not know his name?" interrupted Charles, impatiently.
+
+"Well, sir, I was going to say that I don't know it from himself. He
+is uncommonly close as to his own affairs: though he likes well enough
+to hear about other people's. As to his name, he did not mention it
+when he first came in, and my sister said she did not like to ask him.
+But----"
+
+"I never knew such a thing as not knowing a lodger's name," went on
+Charles, getting excited over it, whilst Frank stood by in perfect
+silence. "Does the man not get any letters?"
+
+"Yes, sir. But they don't come to the house; they are left at the
+post-office in Grassmere, and he fetches them himself. The other
+morning, when Esther went into his parlour, he was reading one of
+these letters, and the cover lay on the table, address upwards. She
+was not quick enough to read the name on it, for he took it up, but
+she saw it was a short name and began with a G."
+
+"Grim, no doubt," said Charles.
+
+"'Mr. G----, Post Office, Grassmere.' That was it, sir."
+
+"I must say I should like to know who he is and what he is doing
+here," continued Charles. "Good-night, Jetty."
+
+Jetty touched his cap and went away with rapid strides. Drawing near
+to his home, he overtook the Tiger, sauntering along with slow steps.
+
+"You are late to-night, Jetty."
+
+"Yes, sir," replied the carpenter, suiting his pace to that of the
+speaker. "I had to put some new shelves into one of the kitchen
+cupboards at Eagles' Nest, and it has taken me longer than I thought
+for."
+
+"All going on well there?" continued the Tiger.
+
+"First rate," said Jetty. "They had a great party this afternoon; one
+of those new-fashioned kettledrums. Such an entertainment it was! such
+fine dresses!"
+
+"I thought the son, Charles Raynor, was keeping his terms at Oxford,"
+resumed the Tiger, after giving himself time to digest the information
+touching the kettledrum. "Why is he not keeping this term?"
+
+"Well, sir," said Jetty, beginning to answer in his usual favourite
+mode, and lowering his voice, though they were quite alone on the
+common: "I believe Mr. Charles can't show his face at Oxford until he
+is better up in funds; so he is omitting this term."
+
+"Debts--eh?" cried the Tiger, but without any appearance of surprise.
+"And the major has not the funds to spare for them?"
+
+"Well, sir, that's to be inferred."
+
+"Meanwhile the lad fills up his days and hours at home with dancing,
+and smoking, and kettledrums, and other good-for-nothing amusements. A
+nice way of spending one's life!"
+
+"Young men will be young men, sir--though they are but lads," spoke
+Jetty, deprecatingly.
+
+"Yes; young men will be young men: some of them, at any rate," came
+the mocking retort. "But in all my days I never saw a young man who
+appeared more likely to go straight down to ruin than Charles Raynor."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+SIR PHILIP'S MISSION.
+
+
+Major Raynor sat in his favourite seat on the lawn at Eagles' Nest, at
+drowsy peace with himself and with the world. Of late the major had
+always been drowsy: morning, noon, and night, no matter what company
+he was in, he might be seen nodding. Frank, as a medical man, did not
+like the signs. He spoke to his uncle of the necessity of rousing
+himself, of taking more exercise, of indulging somewhat less in good
+luncheons and dinners. The major made an effort to obey: for two days
+he actually walked about the lawn for twenty minutes, refused two rich
+entrées, took at each meal one glass less of wine. But the efforts
+ended there, and on the third day the major gave up reformation as a
+bad job.
+
+"It's of no use, Frank, my boy. You young folk can be upon the run all
+day if you choose, and live upon bread-and-cheese and beer; but we old
+ones require ease; we can't be put about."
+
+So the major sat at ease this day as usual, lazily thinking, and
+dropping into a doze. A letter had been received that morning from
+Edina, in answer to an invitation from Major and Mrs. Raynor to come
+and make her home with them now that she was alone in the world. Edina
+declined it for the present. She was staying at Trennach parsonage
+with Mr. and Mrs. Pine: her plans were not decided upon; but the
+clergyman and his wife would not yet spare her. She had many affairs
+to settle at Trennach. Mr. Hatman had taken to the practice, as had
+been arranged, and to the house; but Edina could not leave the place
+at present. She hoped to pay Eagles' Nest a visit in the course of the
+summer.
+
+Thinking of this, and subsiding into dozing, sat the major. The hum of
+the insects sounded in his ears, the scent of the rich flowering
+hawthorn was heavy in the air. Though not yet summer by the calendar,
+for May was still reigning, the season was unusually premature, and
+the weather was, to all intents and purposes, that of summer. Bees
+were sipping at the honey-blossoms, butterflies fluttered from flower
+to flower. All nature seemed conducive to repose, and--the major was
+soon fast asleep, and choking as though he were being strangled.
+
+"You are wanted, if you please, sir."
+
+The words aroused him. Opening his eyes, and sitting upright in his
+chair, he saw his butler by his side.
+
+"What do you say, Lamb? Wanted? Who is it?"
+
+"Sir Philip Stane, sir. He is in the drawing-room."
+
+The major took a draught of his champagne-cup, standing on the table
+by his side. Which cup, it must be confessed, was much more innocent
+than its name would imply. A quart or two of it would not have hurt
+any one: and the major was always thirsty. Crossing the lawn, he went
+into the drawing-room. Sir Philip Stane, a little man with a white
+shirt-frill, a cold face, and a remarkably composed manner, rose at
+his entrance. Major Raynor shook hands with him in his hearty way, and
+they sat down together.
+
+For some few minutes the conversation turned on general topics; but
+soon the knight gave the major to understand that he had come to speak
+upon a particular subject: the attachment of his son to Miss Raynor.
+
+"It has for some time been observable that they are thinking of one
+another," remarked he.
+
+"Well, yes, I suppose it has," said the major. "We have noticed it
+here."
+
+"William is getting on fairly well; he calculates that he will make at
+least seven-hundred pounds this year. Quite enough, he thinks, to
+begin housekeeping upon, with help. With help, major."
+
+"I should have thought it unbounded riches in my marrying days,"
+observed the major.
+
+"William considers that he would be justified in setting up a home,
+provided he can be met," continued Sir Philip in his deliberate,
+sententious way, presenting a direct contrast to the major's
+heartiness. "Young people do not of course expect to begin as they may
+hope to end: riches must come by degrees."
+
+"Quite right," said the major.
+
+"And therefore, with a view to the consideration of the matter--to
+finally deciding whether my son may be justified, or not, in settling
+this year--I have come to ask you, Major Raynor, what portion you
+intend to bestow upon your daughter."
+
+"Not any," replied the plain-speaking major. "I have none to bestow."
+
+Sir Philip looked at him blankly. He did not appear to understand.
+
+"My will is good, Sir Philip. I would give a portion to Alice heartily
+if I possessed it. Thousands, I'm sure, the young people should be
+welcome to, if they needed it."
+
+"Do you mean to say that you--that you will not bestow any portion
+whatever upon your daughter when she marries?" asked Sir Philip, in a
+tone of cold astonishment.
+
+"I'm sorry that I can't do it," said the major. "I wish I could. If
+that lost money of mine would only turn up----"
+
+"Then, I am afraid, I--cannot say what I had come to say," returned
+Sir Philip, with the air of a man who deliberates aloud, and quite
+ignoring the major's interrupted sentence. "I could not advise my son
+to settle upon the few hundreds a-year that make up his present
+income."
+
+"Why, it's abundance," cried the candid major. "You have just said
+yourself that young people cannot expect to begin as they will end.
+Your son's is a rising income: if he makes seven-hundred this year, he
+may expect to make ten next, and double the seven the year after. It
+is ample to begin upon, Sir Philip."
+
+"No," dissented Sir Philip. "Neither he nor I would consider it so.
+Something should be put by for a rainy day. This communication has
+completely taken me by surprise, Major Raynor. We took it for granted
+that your daughter would at least add her quota to the income: had it
+been only three or four hundred a-year. Without money of her own,
+there could be no settlement on her, you see, my son's not being real
+property."
+
+The major was growing a little heated. He did not at all like the turn
+the conversation was taking, or Sir Philip's dictatorial tone.
+
+"Well, you hear, Sir Philip, that Alice has nothing. Those who wish to
+take her, must take her as she is--portionless--or not at all."
+
+Sir Philip Stane rose. "I am sorry, then, major, that I cannot ask
+what I was about to ask for--herself. Your daughter----"
+
+"You are not wanted to ask it, sir," hotly interrupted the major.
+
+"The fact of your daughter's being portionless debars it," quietly
+went on the knight. "I am very sorry indeed to have troubled you, and
+subjected myself to pain. William must consider his pretensions at an
+end."
+
+"They are at an end," fired the major. "If it is money he has been
+thinking of all this time, he ought to be ashamed of himself for a
+calculating, mercenary young rascal. Were he to come to me on his
+knees, after this, begging for my daughter, he should not have her.
+That's my answer, Sir Philip Stane, and you can take it away with
+you."
+
+The major's tug at the bell-rope sent a peal echoing through the
+house. But Sir Philip Stane's hand was already on the door-handle,
+letting himself out with a short "good-morning."
+
+Away went the major, hunting for Alice. He found her with her mother.
+Hotly and explosively he gave an account of the interview; of what he
+called the mercenary conduct of Sir Philip and William Stane. Poor
+Alice turned hot and cold: red and white by turns. She took the
+indignity--as she was pleased to think it--quite as resentfully as the
+major.
+
+"I forbid you to have anything to do with him after this, Alice. I
+forbid you to see him again."
+
+"You need not forbid me, papa," was the answer. "I should not think of
+it."
+
+Major Raynor was one who could not keep in anything, good or bad,
+especially any grievance. He went about the house, looking for Charles
+and Frank, that he might impart the news, and so let off a little of
+his superfluous anger. But he could not find either of them.
+
+Matters were going on much as usual. Daisy was progressing so far
+towards recovery that she could sit at the open window of her chamber
+and revel in the balmy air, while feasting her eyes upon the charming
+landscape. Charles was in a little extra trouble; for he had been
+written to twice upon the subject of the fifty-pound bill that was
+overdue. And Frank, outwardly gay as the flowers of May, was inwardly
+on thorns and nettles.
+
+That that mysterious personage, the Tiger, was wasting his days and
+hours at Grassmere on Frank Raynor's account, Frank felt persuaded of.
+To him it seemed an indisputable fact. The man did not molest him: did
+not appear to take particular notice of him; he had not yet accosted
+him: but Frank knew that all the while he was craftily watching his
+movements, to see that he did not escape. It needed not a conjuror to
+tell him that the Tiger was the spy of Blase Pellet.
+
+The espionage was growing intolerable to Frank. And on this very day,
+just about the time that Sir Philip Stane was at Eagles' Nest, he
+flung prudence to the winds, and questioned the enemy. The Tiger had
+wandered as near to the house as he could, without being guilty of a
+positive trespass: and Frank, chancing to turn out of what was called
+Beech Walk, came face to face with him. It was the first time they had
+thus closely met. For half-a-minute they gazed at each other. The
+Tiger stood his ground, and quietly took from his pocket a small
+note-case of brown morocco leather, with the initials "C.R." stamped
+upon it in gilt.
+
+"Does this belong to you?" questioned the Tiger.
+
+"Not to me," replied Frank. "But I believe it belongs to my cousin,
+Mr. Raynor.
+
+"I picked it up a few minutes ago as I was strolling along. Perhaps
+you will be so good us to give it to its owner."
+
+Frank took the case from the Tiger, and thanked him. Even to this man,
+suspecting him as he did for a despicable spy, he could only be
+courteous. And, indeed, but for this suspicion, Frank would rather
+have liked the man's face, now he saw it closely; the thought passed
+through his mind that, for a Tiger, he was a civilized one. There was
+a tone of pleasant freedom in the voice; the dark grey eyes, gazing
+steadily into Frank's, were earnest and good.
+
+"You come from Trennach," said Frank suddenly, speaking upon impulse.
+
+"From Trennach?" repeated the stranger, vaguely, and evincing no
+surprise.
+
+"Or from some one there," continued Frank. "Employed by him to--to
+look after his villainous interests here."
+
+"I am my own employer, young man."
+
+"What is your name, pray?"
+
+"If I thought it concerned you to know it, I might, perhaps, inform
+you," was the answer, civilly delivered.
+
+"But suppose it does concern me?"
+
+"It is my opinion that it does not."
+
+"At any rate your business here does."
+
+"Does it?"
+
+"Will you deny that you have business here? Business of a private
+nature?"
+
+"I cannot deny that, for it is true."
+
+"And that your business consists in peeping, and watching, and
+spying?"
+
+"You are partly right."
+
+"And," continued Frank, growing warm, "don't you think that to peep
+and to spy is a despicable proceeding?"
+
+"In some cases it may undoubtedly be so regarded," was the calm, cool
+answer. "In other cases it is perfectly justifiable. When some good
+end, for instance, has to be obtained: or, let us say, a problem
+worked out."
+
+"The devil can quote Scripture, we are told, to serve his own
+purposes," muttered Frank to himself as he turned away, afraid of
+pursuing the subject, half afraid of what revelation the man might
+make, and of his fearless grey eyes and their steadfast gaze.
+
+They strode apart one from another at right angles. The stranger with
+careless, easy steps, with profound composure: Frank less easy than
+usual.
+
+"I wonder," soliloquized he, "whether Pellet has let him into that
+unhappy night's secret, or whether he has only given him general
+instructions to look after me, and has kept him in the dark? Any way,
+I wish Blase Pellet was----"
+
+The wish, whatever it might have been, was left unspoken. For the
+Tiger had changed his course. Had turned to follow Frank at a fleet
+pace, and now came up with him.
+
+"Will you tell me, sir, what induced you to assume that I had come
+here from Trennach? And for what purpose I am 'spying'?--and upon
+whom?"
+
+"There's no need to tell you," rejoined Frank. "You know too well
+already."
+
+"And if I tell you that I do not know?"
+
+"I hope you don't. It's all the same," returned Frank, indifferently,
+believing he was being played with.
+
+"Perhaps you have run up debts at Trennach, and are mistaking me for a
+sheriff's officer?" proceeded the Tiger, once more gazing steadfastly
+at Frank as he spoke. "Your cousin, the major's son, has been taking
+me for one."
+
+"How on earth did he get to know that?" thought Frank. And it seemed
+to be so confirmatory of the Tiger's accomplishments in the prying
+line, that Frank felt as much exasperated as his sweet-tempered nature
+was capable of feeling.
+
+"Your road lies that way, and mine this," spoke Frank, with a wave of
+the hand. "Good-morning."
+
+The Tiger stood still, looking after his receding footsteps. A very
+peculiar expression sat on his face, not altogether complimentary to
+Frank.
+
+"A curious lot, these Raynors," concluded he to himself, as he turned
+to pursue his own way.
+
+It was perhaps rather remarkable that Charles Raynor should also, on
+this same day, be brought into contact with the Tiger for the first
+time. Charley's troubles were culminating to a point: at least, in so
+far that he was about to be pressed for one of his debts, though he
+knew it not. It would come upon Charley something like a shock. Since
+fear, on the score of the Tiger, had subsided, he had enjoyed a
+complete immunity from _personal_ annoyance; and this had lulled his
+apprehensions to rest; so that he went about here, there, and
+everywhere, feeling free as air.
+
+He had been out in the dog-cart all the morning. Upon going indoors on
+his return, by the entrance that was nearest to the stables, in
+passing the butler's pantry he saw Lamb standing in it. The man made a
+sudden movement as though he would speak to him, and it arrested
+Charley.
+
+"Do you want me, Lamb?" he asked, halting on his way.
+
+Lamb dropped his voice to a mysterious whisper, and Charley
+instinctively moved inside, and shut the door. Lamb knew nearly as
+much about his young master's embarrassments as he himself knew.
+
+"A party has been here this morning who wanted to see you, Mr.
+Charles. When I said you were out--gone up to London, I thought--he
+seemed as if he hardly believed me. I began to think I shouldn't get
+rid of him."
+
+"Who was it?" asked Charles.
+
+"It was a respectable-looking man, sir. Highly respectable, one might
+be tempted to call him, if his errand had not been to bother people
+for money. Being near the neighbourhood, he had turned aside to
+Grassmere to see you, he said, and his business with you was
+particular. Of course I knew what it all meant, Mr. Charles, and I
+declared you were gone out for the day and couldn't be seen though he
+waited till night."
+
+"I wonder which of them it was?" mused Charley. "Did he give his
+name?"
+
+"Yes, sir; Huddles. He----"
+
+"Oh, Huddles, is it?" interrupted Charley, his mouth falling. "I'm
+glad I didn't see him. Is he gone for good, do you think, Lamb?"
+
+"I should say so, sir. I fully impressed upon him that his waiting
+would be no earthly use. I even said, Mr. Charles, that there was no
+answering for your return when you went to London, and that you might
+be there a week, for all I could say. I told him he had better write
+to you, sir. 'Very well,' he said in answer, and went off with a quick
+step: no doubt to catch the next train."
+
+"That's all right then," said Charley, completely reassured. "Any
+visitors been here, Lamb?"
+
+"Sir Philip Stane called, sir. And some ladies are in the drawing-room
+now. Would you like some refreshment, Mr. Charles?"
+
+"No, I'll wait till dinnertime."
+
+But it still wanted some two or three hours to dinnertime. Presently
+Charles went strolling out on foot, digesting the unpleasant item of
+news that his father had just hastened to impart to him--the sneaking
+behaviour, as he called it, of William Stane. Charles felt greatly
+vexed and annoyed at it for Alice's sake. He was sure there was a
+mutual attachment, and had believed that they understood each other.
+
+Lost in reflections on this subject, and never giving a thought to the
+matter imparted to him by Lamb, his eyes never raised, his footsteps
+wandering on almost as they would, Charley found himself passing along
+the common, on the side of the better houses. Words of salutation
+greeted him.
+
+"Good-afternoon, sir. A hot day again, is it not?"
+
+They came from Miss Jetty, the carpenter's sister. She was sitting at
+work at her open window. Charles lifted his eyes to nod to her; and
+that enabled him to see some one who was approaching at a short
+distance. _Huddles_. Charley recognized him; and on the spur of the
+moment darted into the carpenter's to hide.
+
+"I hope and trust he did not see me!"
+
+But Mr. Huddles had seen him. Mr. Huddles came up with a long stride,
+and was inside the house almost as soon as Charley was. Charley could
+not pretend to be blind then. He stood just within Esther Jetty's
+sitting-room; and the applicant stood in the passage facing him.
+
+"I called at Eagles' Nest to-day, Mr. Charles Raynor, and could not
+see you. You know of course what it was I wanted?"
+
+Charles was taken aback. What with the unpleasantness of the surprise,
+the consciousness of the helpless state of his finances, and the
+proximity of Miss Esther Jetty's eyes and ears, raised in curiosity,
+he was turning frightfully cross. A few sharp, haughty words greeted
+Huddles, apparently causing him astonishment. This application
+concerned one of the two "bills" given by Charley; the one on which no
+proceedings had as yet been taken.
+
+"Can you meet that bill, Mr. Charles Raynor?"
+
+"No, I can't," replied Charles. "I wrote you word that I would meet it
+as soon as I could; that bill and the other also; and so I will. You
+must wait."
+
+"For how long, Mr. Raynor? It is inconvenient to wait."
+
+Charles flew into a passion. But for Esther Jetty's presence, he would
+have managed much better; that of course behoved him to carry matters
+with a high hand, and he showered abuse on Mr. Huddles in haughty
+language, forgetful of diplomacy. Mr. Huddles, not at all the sort of
+man to be dealt with in this manner, repaid him in his own coin. Had
+Charles met him civilly, he would have been civil also; ay, and
+forbearing. The bills--he held them both--had only come into his hands
+in the course of business. He was really respectable, both as a man
+and a tradesman, not accustomed to be spoken to in such a fashion, and
+most certainly in this instance did not deserve it. His temper rose. A
+short, sharp storm ensued, and Mr. Huddles went out of the house in
+anger, leaving a promise behind him.
+
+"I have been holding the two bills over for you, Mr. Charles Raynor,
+and staying proceedings out of consideration to you and at your
+request. And this is the gratitude I get in return! The affair is none
+of mine, as you know; and what I have done has been simply out of
+good-nature, for I was sorry to see so young a man in danger of
+exposure, perhaps of a debtor's prison. I will not delay proceedings
+another day. The bills shall pass out of my hands, and you must do the
+best you can for yourself."
+
+Whilst Charles stood knitting his brow and looking very foolish,
+staring at the front-door, which still vibrated with the bang Mr.
+Huddles gave it, and not half liking to turn and face Esther Jetty,
+the parlour-door on the other side of the passage, which had been ajar
+all the time, opened, and the Tiger appeared at it. He must have been
+an ear-witness to the whole. It did not tend to decrease Charley's
+annoyance: and, in truth, the sudden appearance of this man upon the
+scene, in conjunction with the visit of Huddles, revived Charley's
+suspicions of him. The Tiger's face wore quite a benevolent aspect.
+
+"Can I be of any use to you?" he asked. "I will be if I can. Step in
+here, Charles Raynor, and let us talk it over."
+
+Charley lost his head. The words only added fuel to fire. Coming from
+this sneak of a sheriff's officer, or whatever other disreputable
+thing he might be, they sounded in his ears in the light of an
+insult--a bit of casuistry designed to entrap him. And he treated them
+accordingly.
+
+"_You_ be of use to me!" he contemptuously retorted, with all the
+scorn he could call up. "Mind your own business, man, if you can.
+Don't presume to interfere with mine."
+
+And out of the house strode Charley, banging the door in his turn, and
+sending a good-afternoon to Esther Jetty through the open window. The
+Tiger shrugged his shoulders with a disdainful gesture: as much as to
+say that the young man was not worth a thought and that he washed his
+hands of him and his concerns. Taking up his slouching hat, he put it
+well over his forehead, stood for a few minutes at the outer door, and
+then passed through the little gate.
+
+"Wouldn't you like your tea, sir?" called Esther Jetty from the
+window. "I was just about to get it."
+
+"Presently," replied the Tiger.
+
+Meanwhile Charles Raynor was striding towards home, full of bitter
+repentance. All the folly of his recent conduct was presenting itself
+before him.
+
+"I wish I had met the fellow differently!" he soliloquized, alluding
+to Huddles. "There can be no more putting-off now. A day or two and
+they will be down upon me. I think I was a fool! What a to-do there'll
+be at home! How on earth will the money be found?--and what will be
+the upshot of it all?"
+
+Indeed, it seemed that, with one thing and another, Eagles' Nest was
+not altogether comfortable. Most of its inmates had some secret
+trouble upon them. And yet not twelve months ago they had entered upon
+it, all glee and joy, believing their days would henceforth be
+delightful as a second Paradise!
+
+The next afternoon but one, Saturday, brought William Stane. Alice
+chanced to be in the shrubbery, and met him. His countenance proved
+that he felt vexed, doubtful, ill at ease. Instead of the tender
+glance and smile that had been wont to greet Alice, he had a grave eye
+and knitted brow. The look angered her, even more than had the
+reported words of Sir Philip on the Thursday before.
+
+What precisely passed between them perhaps neither could afterwards
+clearly recall. He said something about how sorry he was that their
+happy intercourse should have been marred; Alice interrupted him with
+a sharp and haughty retort. William Stane retorted in his turn; and
+things were spoken between them, in the moment's ill-feeling, that
+could neither be unsaid nor qualified. Prejudiced by his father's
+account of the unsatisfactory interview with the major, he had come,
+naturally inclined to espouse his father's side; Alice on her part
+upheld their own cause. Very short indeed was the scene, but it was
+decisive.
+
+"I am sorry to have been so mistaken in you, Miss Raynor," he said,
+turning to depart. "No great harm has, however, been done."
+
+"None," returned Alice. "Fare you well."
+
+He raised his hat without speaking, and the echoes of his retreating
+footsteps died away in the shrubbery.
+
+Thus they parted. The fault being at least as much Alice's as his.
+Whether he had come to straighten matters, to repudiate the fiat Sir
+Philip had pronounced, Alice knew not, but she did not allow him the
+opportunity. If the possession of Eagles' Nest had taught nothing else
+to Major Raynor's children, it had certainly taught them to be
+arrogant. The world seemed made for them, and for them alone.
+
+Alice went upstairs humming a gay song, and passed into Daisy's room.
+She halted at the glass, glancing at her pretty face, at the
+brightness of the blue eyes, at the unusual flush on her cheeks.
+Frank's wife turned round.
+
+"You are gay this afternoon, Alice."
+
+"Gay as a fairy," replied Alice. "It is lovely out-of-doors. The sun's
+shining and the birds are singing."
+
+A few days went on. Charley was in a state of mental collapse. For,
+not one single minute of those days came and went but he was on the
+look-out for some dreadful shock, emanating from the enemy, Huddles.
+Each night, as darkness fell, he felt not at all thankful that the
+blow had kept off, concluding that the morrow would bring it. It
+seemed to him at times that its falling would bring relief, by ending
+his almost unbearable suspense.
+
+Alice continued gay; gay as a lark. Was it assumed, this gaiety, or
+was it real? Perhaps she herself did not know.
+
+"You could not have cared very much for William Stane, Alice, or he
+for you," one day remarked her mother, to whom the affair had given
+pain, interrupting Alice in the carolling of a song, sung to an
+impromptu dance.
+
+"Cared for him, mamma!" she returned, in her spirit of bravado. "I am
+well rid of him."
+
+Mrs. Raynor sighed. Alice had so changed: not, she feared, for the
+better. So had Charles. Good fortune had ruined them all.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+STARTLING NEWS.
+
+
+The first of June. A day destined to be an eventful one at Eagles'
+Nest. At five o'clock in the morning the house was aroused from its
+peaceful slumbers by a commotion. Mrs. Raynor's bell was ringing
+violently; Mrs. Raynor's voice was calling for help in loud and
+anxious tones. Major Raynor had been taken ill.
+
+Frank was first at the bedside. His uncle lay unconscious, or partly
+so, exhibiting alarming symptoms. An attack of some kind seemed
+imminent; Frank thought it would prove apoplexy. Other advice was sent
+for.
+
+Long before the usual hour for breakfast, breakfast had been taken,
+and the family hardly knew what to do with themselves. Dr. Selfe, a
+clever man, residing near, had seen Major Raynor--who now seemed to be
+somewhat better. The doctor quite agreed with Frank that the symptoms
+were indicative of apoplexy; but he thought that it might be warded
+off, at least for the present, by the aid of powerful remedies. These
+remedies had been applied, and the patient was decidedly improving. He
+spoke little, but was quite conscious. On these occasions, when one
+out of the home circle is lying upstairs in sudden and dangerous
+illness, the house becomes utterly unsettled. Ordinary habits are
+changed; no one knows what to be at.
+
+"I shall ring for some more coffee," said Charles, rising as he spoke.
+"There's nothing else to do."
+
+Lamb came in and received the order. The breakfast-things were still
+on the table. This was one of the pleasantest rooms in the house:
+small and cosy, with glass-doors opening to the garden. It faced the
+west, so was free from the morning sun: but, beyond the shade cast by
+the house, that sun shone brightly on the smooth green grass and
+clustering flowers.
+
+Whilst waiting for the coffee, which had to be made, Charles leaned
+against the window, half in, half out-of-doors, whistling softly and
+keeping a good look-out around, lest any Philistine should be
+approaching unawares. This illness of his father's terribly
+complicated matters. In the midst of Charley's worst apprehensions
+there had lain, down deep in his heart, the vista of a possible
+refuge. He had whispered to himself, "When things come to a crisis, my
+father will no doubt find a way to help me;" and the hope had been as
+a healing balm to his spirit. But his father, lying in this state,
+could not be applied to: his repose of mind must not be disturbed: and
+if Charley fell into some tiger's clutches now, what on earth was he
+to do?
+
+Whistling softly and unconsciously, Charley indulged in these highly
+agreeable reflections. His mother had not come downstairs at all.
+Alice had gone up to Daisy: Kate and Mademoiselle were reading French
+under the distant walnut-tree. Only Frank was there.
+
+"I do think I can smell haymaking!" cried Charley, suddenly.
+
+"Yes," assented Frank. "Some of the fields are down."
+
+"Is it not early for it?"
+
+"We have had an early season."
+
+No more was said. There flashed into Charley's mind a remembrance of
+the day he had first seen Eagles' Nest: when he had stood at one of
+the windows, though not this one, gazing out at the charming scenery,
+the lovely flowers; inhaling their perfume and that of the new-mown
+hay. Association of ideas is powerful, and probably that scent of the
+hay had brought the day to his memory now. Barely a twelvemonth had
+passed since then: and yet--how hopes and anticipations had changed!
+He had believed then that peace, ease, prosperity must inevitably
+attend them as the possessors of Eagles' Nest: he remembered picturing
+to himself the calamity it would have been had the beautiful place
+passed into others' hands. But he had lived to learn that care and
+worry could penetrate even there.
+
+"There's the postman!" cried Charley. And glad, probably, of the
+interruption, he went out, and crossed the lawn to meet the man.
+
+"Only one letter this morning," he exclaimed, coming back, his eyes
+fixed on it. "I say, Frank, what is to be done? It is from old Street,
+and he has put 'immediate' on it."
+
+"You had better open the letter yourself, I should say, Charles: my
+uncle cannot," said Frank, decisively.
+
+"I wonder what he has to write about: it is not often we hear from
+him. Nothing particular, I dare say: the good old father has not, I am
+sure, a secret in the world. Or--do you think," added Charley, his
+face lighting with eager hope, "that the money can have turned up?
+What a glorious thought! Yes, I will open it."
+
+He broke the seal of the letter. At that moment Lamb came in with
+fresh coffee. Frank, standing near the mantelpiece, watched the man
+put it down, and set two or three things in order on the table before
+going out again. As the door closed, Frank's glance chanced to stray
+to Charley's face.
+
+What was the matter with it? The eager flush of hope had been
+succeeded by a look of dismay: nay, almost of horror. The letter
+seemed very short. Charley was reading it twice over, growing paler
+the while.
+
+"Can it be a hoax?" he cried, in a voice scarcely raised above a
+whisper, as he held the letter out. "It cannot be true."
+
+Frank took the letter reluctantly. There was no help for it. But a
+spasm seized his own face, and a very terrible spasm seized his heart.
+When we are nourishing some great dread, any new and unexplained event
+seems to bear upon it. His fears had flown back to that dreadful night
+at Trennach. Had this letter come to betray him?
+
+But the letter proved in no way connected with that. The news it
+brought was of a nature perfectly open and tangible. Frank's own fears
+gave place to consternation and dismay as he read the lawyer's words:
+dismay for his uncle's sake.
+
+
+"My Dear Sir,
+
+"I have just heard a very painful rumour, and I think it my duty to
+communicate it to you. It is said that the will, under which you
+succeeded to Mrs. Atkinson's estate, proves to have been worthless; a
+fresh will having been discovered. By this later will, it is Mr.
+George Atkinson who inherits Eagles' Nest. My information is, I fear,
+authentic; but I do not yet know full particulars.
+
+"This is but a brief note to convey such tidings, but the evening post
+is on the point of closing, and I do not wish to lose it. I would have
+run down, instead of writing, but am not equal to it, having for the
+past week or two been confined to the house.
+
+"Believe me, dear sir,
+
+"Sincerely yours,
+
+"JOHN STREET.
+
+     "Major Raynor."
+
+
+They stood looking at one another, Charles and Frank, with questioning
+eyes and dismayed faces. Could it be true? No, surely not. Street the
+lawyer, in spite of the boasted authenticity of his information, must
+have been misinformed.
+
+So thought, so spoke Charles. "You see," cried he, "he speaks of it at
+first as only a rumour."
+
+But Frank, in spite of his sanguine nature, regarded the information
+differently. He began looking at portions of the letter again, and did
+not answer.
+
+"Can't you say something, Frank?"
+
+"Charley, I fear it is true. Street would never have written this
+dismal news to your father whilst there was any doubt about it."
+
+"But it has no right to be true; it ought not to be true," disputed
+Charley, in his terrible perplexity. "Who is George Atkinson that he
+should inherit Eagles' Nest? The fellow lives at the other end of the
+world. In Australia, or somewhere. Frank, it's not _likely_ to be
+true. It would be frightful injustice; a cruel shame. It has been ours
+for twelve months: who will wrest it from us now?"
+
+And truly, having enjoyed Eagles' Nest for all that time, regarding it
+as theirs, living at it in perfect security, it did appear most
+improbable that it should now pass away from them; almost an
+impossibility.
+
+"Charley, we must keep this letter to ourselves until we know more. I
+am almost glad my uncle is ill; it would have shocked him so----"
+
+"And how long will it be before we know more?" broke in Charles, who
+was in a humour for finding fault with every one, especially the
+lawyer. "Street ought to have come down, no matter at what
+inconvenience. A pretty state of suspense, this, to be placed in!"
+
+"Drink your coffee, Charley."
+
+"Coffee? Oh, I don't want it now."
+
+The unfortunate news left Charles no inclination for coffee. Of all
+the calamities, actual or threatened, that had been making his life
+uneasy, this was the worst. The worst? The rest now seemed as passing
+shadows in comparison. Frank, with all his sunny nature, could impart
+no comfort to him. The only possible ray to be discerned, lay in the
+hope that the tidings would turn out to be untrue. A hope which grew
+fainter with every moment's thought.
+
+To remain in this suspense was nothing less than torture. It was
+hastily decided between them that Frank should go up to town, see Mr.
+Street, and learn more. He had no scruple in doing this: Major Raynor
+was decidedly better; in no immediate danger, as Frank believed; and
+Dr. Selfe was at hand in case of need.
+
+Frank lost no time; hastening to the station, and looking in on Dr.
+Selfe on his way, to explain that important business was calling him
+for a few hours to London. Mr. Street's residence was near Euston
+Square, and his offices were in the same house. The morning was well
+advanced when Frank arrived there and was shown into the lawyer's
+presence. He seemed less genial than of yore, as he sat half turned
+from a table covered with papers, his right foot on a rest: his hair
+was certainly more scanty; his light eyes, seen so clearly through his
+spectacles, were colder. Frank, who, as it chanced, had never seen
+him, thought what a hard little man he looked.
+
+"Ah, yes; a sad affair," he remarked, as Frank in a few words
+introduced himself and his business. "Very embarrassing for the
+major."
+
+"But I hope that it cannot be true, Mr. Street?"
+
+"That what cannot be true?--that a later will is in existence? Oh,
+that is true enough. And the major has had an attack, you say?
+Misfortunes never come singly."
+
+"May I ask how the fact--that there is a later will--has come to your
+knowledge?"
+
+Mr. Street turned over a few of the papers on the table, and took up a
+letter lying amongst them. "I received this note from my brother, the
+banker, yesterday afternoon," he said, running his eyes over it. "It
+tells me that a will, of later date than the one by which Major Raynor
+holds Eagles' Nest, has been produced, leaving the estate to Mr.
+George Atkinson. George Atkinson is now on his homeward voyage from
+Australia, to take possession of the property."
+
+"What a mercy if the ship should go down with him!" thought Frank, in
+his dismay, as the faint remnant of hope died out. "Then--I presume
+you consider that this unpleasant report may be relied on, Mr.
+Street?"
+
+"Certainly it may. My brother is one of the most cautious men living;
+he would not have written so decisively"--touching the note with his
+finger--"had any doubt existed. Most likely he has heard from George
+Atkinson himself: he would of course write before sailing. Atkinson is
+virtually his chief partner, you know, head of the bank. I had thought
+my brother would perhaps call here last night, but he did not.
+Something or other has come to my ankle, and I can't get out."
+
+"Then--this note from Mr. Edwin Street is all the information you as
+yet possess?"
+
+"Yes, all. But I know it is to be relied on. I thought it better to
+write at once and acquaint the major: he will have little time, as it
+is, to prepare for the change, and see what can be done."
+
+Frank rose. "I will go down and question Mr. Edwin Street," he said.
+"I suppose I am at liberty to do so?"
+
+"Oh, quite at liberty," was the reply. "He no doubt wrote to me with a
+view to preparing your family, Mr. Raynor. You will find him at the
+bank."
+
+The banker received Frank coldly; he seemed just the same hard,
+ungenial, self-contained sort of man that his brother was. Harder, in
+fact. This was indeed his general manner: but somehow, Frank caught up
+an idea that he had a dislike to the name of Raynor.
+
+"I beg to refer you to Callard and Priestleigh, Mr. Atkinson's
+solicitors," spoke the banker to Frank, as soon as the latter entered
+on his business. "They will be able to afford you every necessary
+information."
+
+"But won't you tell me how it has all come about?" cried Frank, his
+genial manner presenting a contrast to that of the banker. "If Mrs.
+Atkinson made a later will, where has the will been all this while?
+Why should it turn up at a twelvemonth's end, and not at the time of
+her death?"
+
+"The will, as I am informed, has been lying in the hands of Callard
+and Priestleigh."
+
+"Then why did Callard and Priestleigh not produce it at the proper
+time?" reiterated Frank.
+
+"Callard and Priestleigh may themselves be able to inform you," was
+the short, stiff answer.
+
+Apparently no satisfaction could be extracted from Mr. Edwin Street.
+Frank wished him good-morning, and betook himself to Callard and
+Priestleigh, who lived near the Temple. "From pillar to post, from
+post to pillar," thought he. "I ought to arrive at something
+presently."
+
+Mr. Callard was a white-haired old gentleman; a little reserved in
+manner also; but nevertheless sufficiently cordial with Frank, and not
+objecting to give him information. He took him for the son of Major
+Raynor; and though Frank twice set him right upon the point, the old
+man went back to his own impression, and persisted in thinking Frank
+to be the--late--heir to Eagles' Nest. It was a mistake of no
+consequence.
+
+The reader may remember that when Mrs. Atkinson expressed her
+intention of making a fresh will in Mr. George Atkinson's favour and
+leaving Major Raynor's name out of it, she had summoned Street the
+lawyer to Eagles' Nest to draw it up. Street, as he subsequently
+informed the major, had represented the injustice of this to Mrs.
+Atkinson, and prevailed upon her--as he supposed--to renounce her
+intention, and to let the old will stand. The lawyer went back to
+London in this belief; and nothing whatever transpired, then or
+subsequently, to shake it. However, after his departure from Eagles'
+Nest, it appeared that Mrs. Atkinson had sent for a local solicitor,
+and caused him to draw up a fresh will, in which she made George
+Atkinson her heir, and cut off the major. This will she had kept by
+her until just before her death, when she sent it, sealed up, to
+Callard and Priestleigh, requesting them to put it amongst Mr. George
+Atkinson's papers, and hold it at his disposal. There could be no
+doubt, Mr. Callard thought, that she also, either at the time the new
+will was made, or close upon her death, wrote to George Atkinson and
+informed him of what she had done: namely, made her will in his
+favour, and placed it with his solicitors.
+
+"But, sir," exclaimed Frank to Mr. Callard when he had listened to
+this explanation, "how was it that you did not bring the will forward
+at Mrs. Atkinson's death? Why did you suffer the other will to be
+proved and acted upon, when you knew you held this one?"
+
+"But we did not know it," replied the old man: "you have misunderstood
+me, my young friend. When Mrs. Atkinson sent the document to us she
+did not inform us of its nature. I assure you we never suspected that
+it was a will. It was sealed up in a parchment envelope, and bore no
+outward indication of its contents."
+
+"Then--how do you know it now?"
+
+"Because we have received written instructions from Mr. George
+Atkinson to open the parchment, and prove the will. It is by these
+instructions we gather the fact that Mrs. Atkinson must have written
+to inform him such a will existed."
+
+"He has taken his time in coming to verify it!"
+
+"It appears--as we hear from Edwin Street--that he was travelling for
+months in some remote parts of Australia, and did not receive his
+letters. However, he is on his way home now."
+
+"Is the will opened? Have you seen it?" asked Frank.
+
+"Both seen it and read it," replied the old man, smoothing back his
+white hair, and looking at Frank with concern. "It will be proved in a
+day or two. I sympathize with you and your father."
+
+"Who are the executors?"
+
+"George Atkinson and Street the banker. The latter is acting."
+
+"And Mr. Atkinson is really on his way from Australia."
+
+"Yes: by ship. We expect him to land in the course of two or three
+weeks. His written instructions were received by this last mail, and
+were conveyed to us through Edwin Street, to whom they were sent. Mr.
+Atkinson desires that all necessary preliminaries may be executed
+without delay, as he intends to take possession of Eagles' Nest on his
+arrival."
+
+"He cannot know that my uncle is in it!"
+
+"I dare say he does. He knew that Major Raynor succeeded to it, for we
+wrote him to that effect at the time. And he is in regular
+correspondence with his partner, Edwin Street."
+
+"Then the worst is true!" cried Frank, as he fully realized what this
+meant for the poor major and his family. "I _wonder_ that George
+Atkinson should accept the estate!--should wrest it from them! from
+the little I have heard of him, I drew the conclusion that he was a
+kind and a just man."
+
+Mr. Solicitor Callard opened his eyes very widely. The words surprised
+him "Kind! Just!" cried he. "Well, he is so: we know him well: but, my
+good sir, a will is a will. You can't ignore a will as you might a
+verbal message."
+
+"It will be a terrible shock to my uncle and his family. Utter ruin."
+
+The old gentleman shook his head in pity.
+
+"Ay, it's sad, no doubt; very sad. We lawyers often have to inflict
+grievous blows; and we cannot help ourselves."
+
+"One last question," said Frank, as he prepared to leave. "In the old
+will, Major Raynor was left residuary legatee,--and therefore came in
+for all the accumulated money--though in point of fact the bulk of it
+has not yet been found. Who comes in for it now?"
+
+"George Atkinson. My good young friend, George Atkinson comes in for
+_everything_. The one will may be called a counterpart of the other;
+in regard to the small legacies, and all else; excepting that George
+Atkinson's name is substituted for Major Raynor's.
+
+"Is nothing left to the major in this later one?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+Frank Raynor went back to Eagles' Nest, carrying his deplorable news
+with him. Careless and sanguine-natured though he was, he could not
+close his eyes to the dark future. It was not only the loss of the
+estate. That would have been bad enough, in all conscience; but there
+was also the money the major had spent. The ready-money that had been
+lying at Eagles' Nest and at her banker's at the time  of Mrs.
+Atkinson's death; and also this past year's revenues from the estate.
+The major had spent it all: and for this he was now accountable to
+George Atkinson; he could be legally called upon to refund it. A fear
+crossed Frank that he would be so called upon: a hard man, as he was
+now judging George Atkinson to be--perhaps without just cause--would
+most likely exact his full rights, no matter what misery and ruin they
+might involve to others. In Frank Raynor's chivalrous good-nature, he
+was thinking that George Atkinson, already a wealthy man, might have
+refused Eagles' Nest, and left the major in peaceable possession of
+it. Perhaps very few men would agree with him: as the old lawyer said,
+a will was a will. This was certain: that, no matter how large a sum
+the law might claim from Major Raynor, he had not a shilling to meet
+it with. Would they confiscate his annuity until it was paid--that
+five hundred a-year; which was all he and his children would now have
+to fall back upon? "I wish with all my heart I had a home to offer
+them, and a good practice to keep it up!" concluded Frank.
+
+Poor Major Raynor! He was never to be subjected to this trouble; or to
+any other trouble in this world. It was past six when Frank got back
+to Eagles' Nest, and he found his uncle dying. The attack that was
+dreaded had seized him about an hour before: just twelve hours after
+the first threatening in the morning; and there was now little, if
+any, hope.
+
+"Oh, my dear," gasped Mrs. Raynor, in her pitiable distress, letting
+her head fall on Frank's shoulder, as her tears rained down, "it is so
+sudden! If he could only recover consciousness, and speak to us!"
+
+"Aunt," he said, his own eyes misty, "don't you think we had better
+send for Edina? She would be a comfort to you."
+
+"Edina!" was the sobbing answer. "My dear, she was telegraphed for
+this morning. Lamb went to the station just after you left. I knew she
+would come off at once: she is on her way now. I could never bear up
+under this trouble without Edina."
+
+"But she does not know of the other trouble," thought Frank, looking
+on Mrs. Raynor, with pitying eyes. "It must be broken to her by
+Edina."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+FRANK RAYNOR FOLLOWED.
+
+
+The whole house was steeped in grief--for Major Raynor had died at
+dawn. As most houses are, when a near and beloved relative is removed:
+and the anguish is more keenly felt if the blow, as in this case,
+falls suddenly. Edina was a treasure now; she had travelled by night
+and was early at Eagles' Nest. Mourning with them sincerely, she at
+the time strove to cheer them. She whispered of a happier meeting
+hereafter, where shall be no more parting; she would not let them
+sorrow without hope. Even Mrs. Raynor felt comforted: and the little
+children dried their tears, saying that papa was with the angels in
+heaven, and they should go to him when God saw that they were good
+enough.
+
+But, of that other misfortune none of the household as yet were
+cognizant. Frank took an opportunity of revealing it to Edina. It
+almost overwhelmed even her.
+
+"Not theirs!" she cried, in a dread whisper. "Eagles' Nest George
+Atkinson's!"
+
+"And the worst of it is," returned Frank, running through a summary of
+the details he had heard, "that he means to exact his rights at once,
+and take immediate possession of the place as soon as he lands. Did
+you not know this George Atkinson once, Edina?"
+
+"Yes--a little," she answered, a faint blush rising to her cheek at
+the remembrance.
+
+"Was he hard and selfish then?"
+
+"I--cannot quite tell, Frank. He did not appear to me to be so."
+
+"Perhaps not. He was young then: and men grow harder as they grow
+older. But now, Edina, what is to be done? They will have to turn out
+of this house, and where will they find another?"
+
+The problem seemed a hard one. Edina sat it an attitude almost of
+despair as she tried to solve it: her hands folded quietly on her
+black dress; her usually calm, good face perplexed; her steady eyes
+anxious. The unexpected blow had fallen on her sharply; and in these
+first moments it was a hard task to battle with it. So far as she or
+any one else could see, the Raynors would not have a penny to fall
+back upon: no income of any sort whatever. The major's annuity has
+died with him.
+
+"They are all so helpless!" she murmured.
+
+"Of course they are," assented Frank. "Not that that makes it any
+worse or better."
+
+"It makes it all the worse," said Edina. "Were they experienced and
+capable, they might do something or other to earn a living."
+
+A whole world of surprise shone in Frank Raynor's candid blue eyes.
+"Earn a living!" he exclaimed. "Who would earn it?"
+
+"All who are old enough," said Edina. "Mrs. Raynor and Alice to begin
+with."
+
+"Surely you cannot think of such a thing for them, Edina!"
+
+"But how else will they exist, Frank? Who will keep them? Charley will
+never be able to do it."
+
+A blank pause. Frank, brought thus practically face to face with the
+position, was unable to reply.
+
+"I wish to goodness I could keep them!" he exclaimed, at length. "I
+wish I had a practice and a house over my head! They should all come
+to it."
+
+"It has surprised me very much indeed, Frank--to leave the other
+subject for a moment--that you have not sought to establish yourself
+all this time."
+
+"I was waiting for some money to do it with, Edina. Poor Uncle Francis
+was constantly expecting those missing funds to turn up. It seems they
+would have belonged to George Atkinson if they had come to light: but
+we could not have known that."
+
+"Your uncle Hugh blamed you for it, Frank. 'Better to take a situation
+as an assistant, than to fritter away his days at Eagles' Nest,' he
+used often to say."
+
+Frank made no reply. The mention of his uncle Hugh brought vividly to
+his mind that last ominous letter he had received from him. With his
+usual incaution, he spoke on the moment's impulse.
+
+"Is Blase Pellet at Trennach still?"
+
+Not quite immediately did Edina answer. Raising his eyes, he met hers
+fixed on him. And he saw something in their depths that he did not
+like: an anxious, questioning, half-terrified expression.
+
+"Edina knows about it," thought he. And he turned as cold as the
+winter frost.
+
+"Yes, Blase Pellet is there as usual," she replied, averting her eyes.
+"And Mrs. Bell has left Trennach for good and has gone to live at
+Falmouth."
+
+Why, the very answer; that last gratuitous sentence; would itself have
+been enough to betray her cognizance of the matter. Else why should
+she have connected the Bells with Blase Pellet? Frank quitted the
+topic abruptly.
+
+
+Not until after the funeral--which took place, as was deemed
+expedient, on the fourth day from the death--were the tidings of their
+penniless state conveyed to Mrs. Raynor and the others. How Charles
+had contrived to keep counsel he never knew. He was looked upon as the
+successor to Eagles' Nest. Servants and others continually came to him
+for directions: Is this to be done, sir; is the other to be done:
+treating him as the master.
+
+Mrs. Raynor received the news with amazement, astonishment contending
+with incredulity. Alice burst into tears; Alfred went into a passion.
+They talked foolishly at first, saying they would go to law: the
+newly-found will should be disputed; the property flung into Chancery.
+The only two capable of bringing reason to bear upon the matter were
+Frank and Edina: and they might have been nearly as bad as the rest,
+had the tidings only just come upon them. They pointed out how worse
+than futile any opposition would be. Not a shadow of doubt could exist
+that the second will was perfectly correct and legal, and that the
+whole property belonged to George Atkinson.
+
+On the second day after Frank's return from London, while the poor
+major lay dead in the house, Charles received an official letter from
+Street the lawyer. It gave in detail the particulars already known,
+and stated that Mr. George Atkinson was then on his voyage to Europe,
+with sundry other hints and statements. This letter Frank read aloud
+now.
+
+"You see," he said, "even our own lawyer gives in. He says not a word
+about opposition. No, there's no help for it; Eagles' Nest must go
+from you. But I think old Aunt Atkinson ought to have been ashamed of
+herself."
+
+"She must have been dreadfully wicked," sobbed Alice.
+
+One thing they did not tell Mrs. Raynor--that she could be made
+responsible for the money received and spent during the past
+twelvemonth. The claim was not yet made; would not be made until Mr.
+George Atkinson's arrival; time enough to tell her then.
+
+What their plans were to be, or where they could go, or how live, was
+the subject of many an anxious thought, as the days passed on. Edina
+suggested this and that; but poor Mrs. Raynor and Alice shrunk from
+all. As yet they could not realize what the turning-out of Eagles'
+Nest would be, and instinctively shunned the anticipation.
+
+But upon none did the blow fall so bitterly as upon Charles. He was
+suddenly flung from his position on the height of a pinnacle to its
+base. A few days ago he was an independent gentleman, an undergraduate
+of Oxford, the heir to Eagles' Nest; now all these desirable
+accessories had melted like icicles in the sunbeams. He must work for
+a living, if he were to live; he must take his name off the college
+books, failing the means to return to college; he must, for his mind's
+best peace, forget that there was such a place as Eagles' Nest.
+
+Work for a living! How was he to do anything of the kind, he asked
+himself. And even if he were willing, and the work presented itself
+(some charming, rose-coloured vision of a sinecure post would now and
+again arise indistinctly before his imagination) how would he be free
+to fulfil it, with those wretched debts at his heels?
+
+One little matter did surprise Charles--he heard nothing of Huddles.
+He had fully expected that within a day or two of that worthy man's
+departure certain sharks of the law, or--as he seemed to prefer to
+call them--tigers, would attack him. But nothing of the sort occurred.
+The days went on, and Charles was still not interfered with.
+
+About a fortnight after the death of Major Raynor, a letter arrived
+from Mr. Street. And, by the way, speaking of the major's death, what
+a grievous farce his will sounded when it was read. Eagles' Nest was
+bequeathed to Charles, with liberty to Mrs. Raynor to reside in it for
+the next ten years; after that, if Charles should deem it expedient
+that she should leave with the younger children, he was charged to
+provide her with a home. The major recommended that a portion of the
+missing money, when found, should be put out at interest, and allowed
+to accumulate for her benefit. Quite a large sum was willed away in
+small bequests. This to one child, that to another; some to Edina,
+some to Frank, and so on. The horses and carriages, the linen, plate,
+ornaments and trinkets, with sundry other personalities that had come
+to him with Eagles' Nest, were left to Mrs. Raynor. All this, when
+read, sounded like a painful farce, a practical joke. These things
+were all George Atkinson's; and, of the legacies, the poor major
+possessed not a shilling to bequeath.
+
+
+Mr. George Atkinson safely arrived in England and in London. Lawyer
+Street wrote to Eagles' Nest to state the fact, and that he had held a
+business interview with him in the presence of Mr. Callard. Mr.
+Atkinson, he hinted, was not inclined to deal harshly with the Raynor
+family, but leniently. He gave them one month in which to vacate
+Eagles' Nest, when he should himself enter into possession of it; and
+with regard to the money spent in the past twelvemonth, which did in
+reality belong to him, and to the mesne profits, he made no claim. Let
+them leave his house quietly, and he should say nothing about arrears.
+It had been spent by Major Raynor under the misapprehension that it
+was his own, and he would not exact it of the major's children.
+
+The conditions were, perhaps, as favourable as could be expected from
+a man of the world. Mr. Solicitor Callard pronounced them to be
+wonderfully so, cruelly hard though they sounded to the Raynors.
+_They_ thought, taking all circumstances into consideration--his own
+wealth, which must be accumulating yearly, his want of relationship to
+the former mistress of Eagles' Nest, and consequent absence of just
+claim to inherit it--that Mr. Atkinson should have quietly resigned it
+to them, and left them in undisturbed possession of it. Frank, once
+hearing Charley say this, shook his head. _He_ should have done this
+himself, he said, were he George Atkinson; but he feared the world, as
+a whole, would not: we did not live in Utopia.
+
+And now came in Edina's practical good sense. After allowing them a
+day to grieve, she begged them to listen to her ideas for the future.
+She had been thinking a great deal, but could only hit upon one plan
+that seemed at all feasible. It was, that Mrs. Raynor and Alice should
+establish a school. Alice, a well-educated girl, a good musician and
+otherwise accomplished, would be of valuable aid in teaching.
+
+Three weeks ago, they would--Alice, at any rate--have turned from the
+proposition with indignation. But those three weeks had been working
+their natural effect; and neither Mrs. Raynor nor Alice spoke a
+dissenting syllable. They had begun to realize the bitter fact that
+they must work to live. The world lay before and around them: a cold,
+cruel, and indifferent world, as it now seemed to them; and they had
+no shelter in it. To keep a ladies' school would be less objectionable
+than some things, and was certainly preferable to starving. Better
+than setting up a shop, for instance, or taking to a boarding-house.
+It was Edina who alluded to these unpleasant alternatives, and Alice
+did not thank her for it. Poor Alice had still many lessons to learn.
+It is true that Alice might go out as a governess, but that would not
+keep Mrs. Raynor and the younger ones.
+
+"I see only one objection to this school idea of yours, Edina," spoke
+poor Mrs. Raynor, who was the first to break the silence which had
+ensued; while Alice sat with downcast eyes and an aching heart. "And
+that is, that I do not know how it is to be accomplished. We have no
+money and no furniture. It would be easy enough to take a house in
+some good situation, as you suggest; but how is it to be furnished?"
+
+Edina did not immediately answer. Perhaps the problem was rather too
+much for herself. She sat in thought; her steadfast eyes gazing with a
+far-away look over the beautiful landscape they were so soon to lose.
+
+"Mr. Atkinson intimates that we are at liberty to remove any
+furniture, or other articles, we may have bought for Eagles' Nest;
+that he only wishes it left as it was left by Mrs. Atkinson,"
+continued Mrs. Raynor: who, in these last few days of trouble, seemed
+to have quite returned to the meek-spirited, humble-minded woman she
+used to be, with not a wish of her own, and thoroughly incapable.
+"But, Edina, the furniture would be too large, too grand for the sort
+of house we must have now, and therefore I am afraid useless. Besides,
+we shall have to sell these things with the carriages, and all that,
+to pay outstanding debts here that must be settled: the servants'
+wages, our new mourning, and other things."
+
+"True," replied Edina, somewhat absently.
+
+"Perhaps we could hire some articles: chairs and tables, and forms for
+the girls to sit on, and beds?" suggested Mrs. Raynor. "Sometimes
+furniture is let with a house. Edina, are you listening?"
+
+"Yes, I am listening; partly at least; but I was deep in thought just
+then over ways and means," replied Edina, rousing herself to her usual
+mental activity. "A furnished house would never do; it would be too
+costly; and so, I fear, would be the hiring of furniture. Now and
+then, I believe, when a house is to be let, the furniture in it can be
+bought very cheaply."
+
+"But if we have no money to buy it with, Edina?"
+
+"Of course: there's the drawback. I think the neighbourhood of London
+would be the best locality for a new school: the most likely one to
+bring scholars. Should not you, Mary?"
+
+"Yes," assented Mrs. Raynor, with a sigh. "But you know all about
+these things so much better than I do, Edina."
+
+The plans, and the means of carrying them out, seemed, as yet, very
+indistinct; but at length Edina proposed to go to London and look
+about her, and see if she could find any suitable place. Mrs. Raynor,
+always thankful that others should act for her, eagerly acquiesced.
+Though, indeed, to find a house--or, rather, to find one full of
+furniture--appeared as a very castle-in-the-air. Chairs and tables do
+not drop from the skies: and Edina was setting her face resolutely
+against running into debt.
+
+"Now you understand," Edina said, the morning of her departure,
+calling Charles and Mrs. Raynor to her, "that I shall depend upon you
+to arrange matters here. If I am to find a house for you in London, I
+may have too much to do to return, and you must manage without me. Set
+about what has to be done at once, Charles: get the superfluous
+furniture out of the house, for sale; and have your boxes packed,
+ready to come up. You must be out of Eagles' Nest as soon as possible;
+on account of the heavy expenses still going on while you are in it.
+Mr. George Atkinson allowed you a month: I should leave it in less
+than half that time. Besides, Mary: you should be on the spot to begin
+school before the Midsummer holidays are over; it will give you a
+better chance of pupils."
+
+They agreed to all: Charles rather gloomily, Mrs. Raynor in simple
+confidence: anything suggested by Edina was sure to be for the best.
+It was impossible for Charles to rise up yet from the blow. With him,
+the aspect of things, instead of growing brighter, grew darker. Each
+morning, as it dawned, was only more gloomy than the last. A terrible
+wrong had been dealt to him--whether by Fate, or by that unjust
+defunct woman, his aunt Ann, or by George Atkinson, he could not quite
+decide, perhaps by all three combined--and he felt at variance with
+the whole world. Edina had talked to him of plans for himself, but
+Charles did not hear her with any patience. To contrast the present
+with the past drove him half-mad. That he must do something, he knew
+quite well, and he intended to do it: but he did not know what that
+something was to be; he could not see an opening anywhere. Moreover,
+he also knew that he must make some arrangement with the people at
+Oxford to whom he owed money.
+
+Another thing had yet to be done--taking his name off the college
+books. Charles went down to do this; and to confer with his creditors.
+Very young men are often most sensitive on the score of debt: Charles
+Raynor was so: and it seemed to him a formidable and distressing task
+to meet these men, avow his poverty, and beg of them to be lenient and
+wait.
+
+"I declare I'd rather meet his Satanic majesty, and hold a battle with
+_him!_" cried Charley, as he started forth to the encounter.
+
+But he found the creditors considerate. They had heard of his reverse
+of fortune. The news of the fresh will put forward, and the consequent
+transfer of Eagles' Nest from the Raynors to George Atkinson the
+banker, had been made much of in the newspapers. One and all met
+Charles pleasantly; some actuated by genuine pity for the young man,
+others by the remembrance that you cannot get blood out of a stone.
+Half the sting was taken from Charley's task. He told them truly that
+he had no present means whatever, therefore could not offer to pay:
+but he assured them--and his voice was earnest, and they saw he meant
+it--that he would pay them whenever it should be in his power to do
+so, though that might not be for years to come. So he and they parted
+cordially. After all, no individual debt was very much, though in the
+aggregate the sum looked formidable.
+
+Mr. Huddles was left until last. Charles dreaded him most. That debt
+was the largest. The two bills were for fifty pounds each, making a
+hundred; and mischief alone knew what the added expenses would be. Not
+only did Charles dread him because he would have to eat humble-pie,
+which he hated and detested, and beg the man to hold the bills on, but
+he believed that Mr. Huddles could arrest him without ceremony.
+Nevertheless he had no choice but to enter on the interview for he
+must know his own position before he could plan out or venture on any
+career of life. He went forth to it at dusk; some dim idea pervading
+him that tigers and kidnappers might not exercise their functions
+after sunset.
+
+Mr. Huddles sat alone in his parlour when Charles was shown in: a
+well-lighted and well-furnished room. Instead of the scowl and the
+frown Charles had anticipated, he rose with a smile and a pleasant
+look, and offered Charles a chair.
+
+"We were both a little out of temper the other day, Mr. Raynor," said
+he; "and both, I dare say, felt sorry for it afterwards. What can I do
+for you?"
+
+To hear this, completely took Charles aback. Down he sat, with some
+indistinct words of reply. And then, summoning up what courage he
+could, he entered upon the subject of the bills.
+
+"No one can regret more than I that I cannot pay them," he said. "I
+have come here to-night to beg of you to be so kind as hold them over.
+The expenses, I suppose----"
+
+"I don't understand you, sir," interrupted Mr. Huddles. "What bills
+are you talking of?"
+
+"The two bills for fifty pounds each--I have no others. Although I
+know how unjust it must seem to ask you to do this, Mr. Huddles, as
+you are only a third party and had nothing whatever to do with the
+transaction, I have no resource but to throw myself upon your good
+feeling. I am quite unable to take the bills up; you have probably
+heard of our reverse of fortune; but I will give you my word of honour
+to do so as soon as----
+
+"The bills are paid," cried Mr. Huddles, not allowing him to go on.
+
+"Paid?" echoed Charley.
+
+"Paid; both of them. Why--did you not know it?"
+
+"No, that I did not. Who has paid them?"
+
+"Some legal firm in London."
+
+"What firm?"
+
+"The name was--let me see--Symmonds, I think. Yes, that was it:
+Symmonds and Son, solicitors."
+
+Charley could only stare. He began to think Mr. Huddles was playing
+off a joke upon him; perhaps to turn round on him afterwards.
+
+"I don't know any people of the name of Symmonds, or they me," said
+he. "How _came_ they to pay?"
+
+"I think Major Raynor--I was sorry to see his death in the _Times_ so
+soon afterwards--gave them the necessary orders."
+
+Charles shook his head; it was not at all likely, as he knew. He lost
+himself in a maze of thought.
+
+"The evening I saw you, I was running into the station to catch a
+train, having lingered rather too long at the inn over some late
+refreshment," explained Mr. Huddles, perceiving that Charles was
+altogether puzzled, "when a gentleman accosted me, asking if my errand
+in the place had not been connected with Major Raynor's son. I replied
+that it had. This gentleman then said that if I would furnish the
+particulars of the debt to Messrs. Symmonds and Son, solicitors, of
+London, they would no doubt see that I was paid; and he handed me
+their address. I sent the particulars up the next day, and in the
+course of a post or two received the money."
+
+"It must have been Frank," thought Charles, the idea flashing into his
+mind. "What was this gentleman like, Mr. Huddles?"
+
+"Upon my word, sir, I can hardly tell you," was the reply. "The train
+dashed in just as he began to speak to me; several passengers were
+waiting for it, and there was a good bit of confusion. It was dusk
+also. Nearly dark, in fact."
+
+"A good-looking, pleasant-speaking fellow?"
+
+"Yes, I think so. He had a pleasant voice."
+
+"No one but Frank," decided Charles. "It's just like him to do these
+good-natured things. I wonder how he found the money? And why in the
+world did he not tell me he had done it?"
+
+So this trouble was at an end; and Charles might for the present be
+pronounced free from worry on the score of debt. If the Fates had been
+hard to him latterly, it seemed that they yet hold some little
+kindness in store for him.
+
+But this visit to the University city was productive of the most
+intense chagrin in other ways to Charles Raynor; of the keenest
+humiliation. "Only a short while ago, I was one of _them_, with the
+world all before me to hold my head up in!" he kept telling himself,
+as he watched the undergraduates passing in the street, holding aloof
+from them, for he had not the courage to show his face. If by
+unavoidable chance he encountered one or two, he drew away as quickly
+as he could, after exchanging a few uncomfortable sentences. Whilst
+they, knowing his changed circumstances, his blighted prospects, made
+no effort to detain him; and if their manner displayed a certain
+restraint, springing from innate pity, or delicacy of feeling, Charles
+put it down to a very different cause, and felt all the deeper
+mortification.
+
+As he left Oxford by an early morning train on his way home, his
+thoughts were busy with what had passed. For one thing, he found that
+his days of torment at Eagles' Nest, when he went about in fear of
+writs and arrest, had been without foundation. With the exception of
+Mr. Huddles--and that was much later--not a single creditor, as all
+assured him, had followed him there: neither had any of them written
+to him, excepting the one whose letter had by misadventure fallen into
+the hands of Major Raynor. Who then was the Tiger, Charles asked
+himself. Could it be that, after all, the man had positively held no
+mission that concerned him? It might be so: and that Charles had
+dreaded and hated him for nothing. The Tiger had left Grassmere now,
+as Charles happened to know. Jetty had said so the other day when he
+was at Eagles' Nest. To return sometime Jetty believed, for the
+gentleman had said as much to his sister Esther when leaving: he liked
+the lodgings and liked the place, and should no doubt visit them
+again.
+
+And so, Charles Raynor returned home, relieved on the whole, in spite
+of his ever-present trouble, and with a lively feeling of gratitude to
+Frank Raynor in his heart.
+
+He could not yet personally thank Frank; for Frank and his wife had
+quitted Eagles' Nest soon after the funeral of Major Raynor. With the
+fortunes of its hitherto supposed owners come to an end, Frank could
+not any longer remain, a weight on their hospitable hands. It was at
+length necessary that he should bestir himself in earnest, and see in
+what manner he could make a living for himself and Daisy. One great
+impediment to his doing this comfortably was, that he had no money.
+Excepting a few spare pounds in his pocket for present exigencies, he
+had positively none. The sum he had privately furnished Charles with
+at Christmas-time would have been useful to him now; but Frank never
+gave a regret to it. Daisy was not very strong yet, and could not be
+put about. She was going to stay with her sister, Captain Townley's
+wife, for two or three weeks, who had just come over from India with
+her children, and had taken a furnished house in London. Daisy wrote
+to her from Eagles' Nest proffering the visit: she saw what a
+convenience it would be to Frank to be "rid" of her, as she laughingly
+said, whilst he looked about for some place that they could settle in.
+Mrs. Townley's answer had been speedy and cordial. "Yes, you can come
+here, Daisy; I shall be delighted to see you. But what a silly child
+you must have been to make the undesirable runaway marriage they tell
+me of! I thought all the St. Clares had better sense than that."
+
+But the Tiger is not done with yet. On the day that Frank and his wife
+said farewell to Eagles' Nest, and took train for London, Frank jumped
+out of the carriage at an intermediate station to get a newspaper. On
+his way into it again, he had his eyes on the newspaper, and chanced
+to go up to the wrong compartment, the one behind his own. Opening the
+door, Frank saw to his surprise that there was no room for him, and at
+the same moment found his face in pretty close contact with another
+face; one adorned with a silky brown beard and the steadfast grey eyes
+Frank had learned to know.
+
+"This compartment is full, sir."
+
+How far Frank recoiled at the words, at the sight, he never knew. _It
+was the Tiger_. With a sinking of the heart, a rush of dismay, he made
+his way to his own carriage; and let the newspaper, that he had been
+eager for, drop between his knees.
+
+"He is following me to town," cried Frank, mentally, in his firm
+conviction. "He means to track me. How shall I escape him? How am I to
+escape Blase Pellet?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+THE NEW HOME.
+
+
+A cold, drizzling rain was falling. We have wintry weather sometimes
+in July, as was the case now. The lovely summer seemed to have come to
+an abrupt end, and to have flown for good. At least, it appeared so to
+those who were turning out of their late happy and prosperous home, to
+enter on another of which they knew little. Knew nothing, in fact,
+except that it would have to be one of poverty and labour. For this
+was the day that Mrs. Raynor and her children were quitting Eagles'
+Nest.
+
+All superfluous effects had been disposed off, even to their personal
+trinkets. Charles's watch, that he set store by because it had been
+his father's, and had only just come into his possession, had to go.
+Without the sale of these things they could not have paid all their
+debts and kept sufficient for pressing requirements. A fly took Mrs.
+Raynor, Alice, and the two younger children to the station, Charles
+and Alfred having walked on; and a cart conveyed the luggage. The rain
+beat against the windows of the fly, the wind swept by in gusts,
+shaking the branches of the trees. Everything looked dreary and
+wretched, even Eagles' Nest itself. Oh, what a change it was, inwardly
+and outwardly, from that day, bright with hope and sunshine, when they
+had entered it only twelve short months before!
+
+Charles was at the fly door when it drew up. "What tickets am I to
+take?" he asked of his mother: and a blank pause ensued. They were
+accustomed to first-class; but that would not do now.
+
+"Either second, or--_third_, Charley," spoke poor Mrs. Raynor.
+
+"There is no third-class to this train," replied Charley, glad perhaps
+to have to say it, as he turned away to the ticket-office.
+
+And so they travelled up to London, Mrs. Raynor leaning back in the
+carriage with closed eyes, grateful for the rest. It had been a long
+scuffle to get away: and every one of them had mentally reproached
+Edina for not coming to their help.
+
+"It is just as though she had deserted us," said Mrs. Raynor. "I
+suppose she will be at the new house to receive us, as she says; but I
+think she might have come all the same: she knows how incapable I am."
+
+The "new house" was situated in the southern district of London, some
+three miles, or so, from the heart of the bustle. It was about five
+o'clock when they approached it in two cabs, through the dirt and
+drizzle. The spirits of all were depressed. With the very utmost
+difficulty Mrs. Raynor kept down her tears.
+
+"I expect to find an empty barn," she said, looking out on the dreary
+road. "Perhaps there will not be as much as a mattress to sleep on."
+
+The cabs stopped before the door of a convenient, roomy, but
+old-fashioned-looking house, standing a little back from the road,
+with a garden behind it. A rosy servant-girl opened the door. She was
+not as fashionable-looking as the maids they had left, but she was
+neat and active, and very willing--a remarkably desirable quality in a
+maid-of-all-work. Edina came forward; a bright smile of welcome on her
+face as she took all the hands into hers that she could hold, and
+led the way to the sitting-room. It was quite furnished, and the
+tea-things stood on the table.
+
+Instead of the empty barn Mrs. Raynor had expected, she found a house
+plainly but well furnished throughout. The schoolroom, the airy
+bedrooms, the sitting-rooms, the kitchen, all had their appropriate
+appointments. Useful furniture, and quite new. Mrs. Raynor halted in
+the kitchen, which was not underground, and gazed about her. The fire
+threw its warmth on the red bricks, a kettle was singing away, plates
+and dishes stood on the dresser shelves, every necessary article
+seemed at hand.
+
+"I cannot understand it, Edina. You must have obtained the things on
+credit, after all. Oh, that the school may succeed!--so that we may
+soon be enabled to pay for them."
+
+"No credit has been asked or given, Mary," was Edina's answer. "The
+furniture has been bought and paid for, and it is yours."
+
+"Bought by whom?"
+
+"By me. You will not be too proud to accept it from your poor friend,
+Edina!"
+
+Mrs. Raynor sat down on the nearest wooden chair, and burst into
+tears.
+
+"You thought, I am sure, that I might have come back to help you away
+from Eagles' Nest, Mary, but I could not: I had too much to do here,"
+explained Edina. "I find there is an opening in this neighbourhood for
+a school, and I also found this house, that is so suitable for one, to
+be let. I took it, and with Frank's help, furnished it, plainly as you
+see: and then I went about amongst the neighbours, and put an
+advertisement or two in the papers, asking for pupils. Two boarders,
+sisters, will enter to-morrow; two more on Monday, and five
+day-pupils. This is not so bad a beginning, and I dare say others will
+drop in. I feel sure you will succeed; that you and Alice may get a
+very good school together in time: and I hope Heaven will bless and
+prosper you."
+
+Mrs. Raynor was looking up in her rather helpless manner. "I--I don't
+understand, Edina. Did you buy the furniture, or did Frank?"
+
+"Not Frank, poor fellow: he has need of help himself. Be at rest,
+Mary: I bought it, and I have made it over to you by a deed of gift.
+The house is taken in your name, and I am responsible for the first
+half-year's rent."
+
+"Oh, Edina! But I thought you had no money--except the small income
+Dr. Raynor secured to you."
+
+"Please don't disparage my income," said Edina, gaily. "It is fifty
+pounds a-year: quite enough for me. As to the money, I had a hundred
+pounds or two by me that my dear father left me over and above the
+income. In laying it out for you and yours in your hour of need, Mary,
+I think it well spent."
+
+"And we used to call Edina mean and stingy!" thought Mrs. Raynor in
+her repentant heart. "At least, Charles and Alice did."
+
+With the next week, all the expected pupils had entered; four boarders
+and five day-pupils. Another day-pupil, not expected, made six. It was
+a very good opening, affording hope of ultimate success.
+
+"What do you think of it, Charley?" asked Mrs. Raynor, on the third
+evening, as they sat together after the little boarders and Kate and
+Robert were in bed, Edina being out.
+
+"Oh, I think it's first-rate," answered Charley, half seriously, half
+mockingly. "You and Alice will be making a fortune by-and-by."
+
+The remark did not please Alice. _She_, at least, was not reconciled
+to the new home and its duties.
+
+"_You_ may think it first-rate," she retorted. "It is widely different
+from Eagles' Nest. We were gentlepeople there; we are poor governesses
+here."
+
+Charley made no response. The very name of Eagles' Nest would give him
+an unpleasant turn.
+
+"And it is nothing but work all day," went on Alice. "Lessons this
+hour, music that, writing the next. Oh, it is wearisome!"
+
+"Don't grumble, my dears," interposed Mrs. Raynor. "It might have been
+so much worse. After the strange turn our affairs took, we might now
+be without a roof over our heads or a morsel of bread to eat. So far
+as I can see, we should have been, but for Edina."
+
+The tears were raining down Mrs. Raynor's cheeks. Alice started up and
+threw her arms round her in repentance. "Forgive me, dear mamma,
+forgive me! I was wrong to speak so repiningly."
+
+"You were wrong, dear Alice. In dwelling so much upon the advantages
+we have lost, you overlook the mercies remaining to us. And they are
+mercies. We are together under one roof; we have the prospect of
+making a fair living."
+
+"Yes," acquiesced Charley, throwing regrets behind him. "It is a very
+nice home indeed, compared with what might have been."
+
+"And I think we may yet be very happy in it," said Mrs. Raynor.
+
+Alice strove to think so too, and put on a cheerful face. But the old
+days were ever present with her; and she never recalled the past hopes
+connected with William Stane, but her heart turned sick and faint in
+its despair.
+
+"It will be your turn next, Charles," observed Edina, taking the
+opportunity of speaking to him the following morning, when they were
+alone.
+
+"My turn?" repeated Charles, vaguely: conscious that he knew what she
+meant, but not choosing to acknowledge it.
+
+"To do something for yourself," added Edina. "You cannot intend to
+live upon your mother."
+
+"Of course I do not, Edina. How stupid you are."
+
+"And the question is, what is that something to be?" she continued,
+passing over his compliment to herself.
+
+"I should like to go into the army, Edina."
+
+Edina shook her head. Her longer experience of life, her habits of
+forethought, enabled her to see obstacles that younger people did not
+see.
+
+"Even if you had the money to purchase a commission, Charley----"
+
+"But I did not think of purchasing. I should like to get one given to
+me."
+
+"Is there a chance of it?"
+
+Charles did not reply. He was standing before the window, gazing
+abstractedly at a young butcher boy, dashing about in a light cart for
+his morning orders. There was not very much chance of it, he feared,
+but there might be a little.
+
+"Let us suppose that you had the commission, Charley, that it arrived
+here for you this very day direct from the Horse Guards--or whatever
+place may issue them," pursued Edina. "Would it benefit you?"
+
+"Benefit me!"
+
+"I mean, could you take it up? How would you find your necessary
+outfit? Regimentals cost a great deal: and there must be many other
+preliminary expenses. This is not all----"
+
+"I could get things on credit," interrupted Charles, "and pay as I
+went on."
+
+"But this would not be the only impediment, Charley. I have heard that
+it takes every officer more than his pay to live. I have often thought
+that were I an officer it should not take me more; but it may be that
+I am mistaken there. You would not have anything besides your pay,
+Charley."
+
+"Oh, I expect I should get along."
+
+"Taken at the best, you would have nothing to spare. I had thought you
+might choose some calling which would enable you to help them here at
+home."
+
+"Of course. It is what I should wish to do."
+
+"Alfred must be educated; and little Robert as he comes on. Your
+mother may not be able to do this. And I do not see that you will have
+it in your power to aid her if you enter the army."
+
+Charles began scoring the window-pane with a pencil that he held, not
+knowing what to answer. In truth, his own intentions and views as to
+the future were so vague and purposeless, that to dwell on it gave him
+nightmare.
+
+"What should you propose, Edina?"
+
+"A situation," replied Edina, promptly, "in some good city house."
+
+But for the obligations they were just now under to Edina, Mr. Charles
+Raynor would have abused her well for the suggestion. It suited
+neither himself nor his pride. A situation in some city house! That
+meant a clerk, he supposed. To write at desks and go on errands!
+
+"I wish you wouldn't talk so, Edina," he peevishly said, wishing he
+might box her ears. "Did you ever hear of a Raynor becoming a
+tradesman?"
+
+"Did you ever hear of a Raynor with no means of living?" retorted
+Edina. "No profession, and no money? Circumstances alter cases,
+Charley."
+
+"Circumstances can't make a common man a gentleman; and they can't
+make a gentleman take up the rôle of a common man."
+
+"Can't they! I think they often do. However, Charley, I will say no
+more just now, for I perceive you are not in the humour for it.
+Consider the matter with yourself. _Don't_ depend upon the commission,
+for indeed I do not see that you have a chance of one. Put it out of
+your thoughts, if you can, and look to other ways and means. I shall
+be leaving you in a day or two, you know; by that time you will
+perhaps have decided on something."
+
+Edina went into the schoolroom, and Charles stood where he was. Alfred
+came in with his Latin books. Mrs. Raynor was going to send Alfred to
+a day-school close by; but it did not open for another week or two,
+and meanwhile Charles made a show of keeping him to his Latin.
+
+"What am I to do this morning, Charley?"
+
+"Copy that last exercise over again, lad. It was so badly written
+yesterday that I could not read it."
+
+Alfred's pen went scratching over the copy-book. Charles remained at
+the window, deep in thought. He had no more wish to be living on his
+mother than any other good son has; but he did not see where he could
+go, or what he could do. The doubt had lain on his mind during these
+recent days more than was agreeable to its peace. His whole heart was
+set upon a commission; but in truth he did not feel much more sanguine
+of obtaining one than Edina seemed to feel.
+
+He wished he was something--wished it there as he stood. _Anything_,
+rather than remain in this helpless position. Wished he was a doctor,
+like Frank; or a banker, like that wretch, George Atkinson; or a
+barrister, like that other wretch, Stane. Had he been brought up to
+one of these callings he should at least have a profession before him.
+As it was, he felt incapable: he was fit for nothing, knew nothing. If
+he could get a commission given to him, he should be on his legs at
+once; and _that_ required no special training.
+
+But for Charles Raynor's inexperience, he might have found that a
+candidate for a commission in the army does require a special training
+now. In his father's young days the case was otherwise. The major had
+been very fond of talking of those days; Charles had thence gathered
+his impressions, and they remained with him.
+
+Yes, he said to himself, making a final score on the window-pane, he
+must get the commission; and the sooner the better. Not to lose time,
+he thought it might be well to see about it at once. An old
+acquaintance of his father's, one Colonel Cockburn, had (as Charles
+was wont to put it to himself) some interest in high quarters: his
+brother, Sir James Cockburn, being one of the Lords of the Admiralty.
+Of course, reasoned Charles, Sir James must be quite able to give away
+posts indiscriminately in both army and navy; and it was not likely he
+would refuse one to his brother, if the latter asked for it. So if he,
+Charles, could only get Colonel Cockburn to interest himself, the
+affair was done.
+
+"Are you going out?" questioned Alfred, as Charles began to brush his
+coat and hat.
+
+"Yes, I am going to see Colonel Cockburn," was the reply. "No good
+putting it off any longer. When you have finished copying that
+exercise, youngster, you can do another. And mind you stick at it:
+don't go worrying the mother."
+
+Away went Charles, on the top of a passing omnibus. Colonel Cockburn's
+club was the Army and Navy. Charles possessed no other address of his;
+and to that building he found his way, and boldly entered.
+
+"Colonel Cockburn, sir?" was the answer to his inquiry. "I don't think
+he is in town."
+
+"Not in town!" cried Charles, his ardour suddenly damped. "Why do you
+think that?"
+
+"He has not been here for a day or two, sir: so we conclude he is
+either absent or ill. The colonel is sometimes laid up with gout for a
+week together."
+
+"Can you tell me where he lives? I'll go and see him."
+
+"In St. James's Street," replied the man, giving at the same time the
+number of the house.
+
+To St. James's Street proceeded Charles, found the house in which the
+colonel occupied rooms, and saw the landlady. Colonel Cockburn was at
+Bath: had gone to stay with a brother who was lying there ill.
+
+"What a dreadful bother!" thought Charles. "Cockburn must have a whole
+regiment of brothers!" And he stood in indecision.
+
+"Will the colonel be back soon?" inquired he.
+
+"I don't know at all," was the landlady's answer. "Should he be
+detained in Bath, he may not come back before October. The colonel
+always leaves London the end of July. Sometimes he leaves earlier than
+that."
+
+"What on earth am I to do?" cried Charles, half aloud, his vivid hopes
+evaporating considerably. "My business with him was urgent."
+
+"Could you write to him?" suggested the landlady.
+
+"I suppose I must--if you have his address. But I ought to see him."
+
+She took an envelope from the mantelpiece, on which was written an
+address in the Crescent, Bath. Charles copied it down, and went out.
+He stood a moment, considering what he should do. The day was so fine
+and the town so full of life, that to go off to that pokey old
+southern suburb seemed a sin and a shame. So he decided to make a day
+of it, and began with the Royal Academy.
+
+Time slips away in the most wonderful manner when sight-seeing, and
+the day was over before Charles thought it half through. When he
+reached home, it was past nine. The children were in bed; his mother
+also had gone to bed with headache; Edina and Alice were sewing by
+lamplight. Alice was at some fancy work; Edina was mending a torn
+pinafore: one of a batch that required repairing.
+
+While taking his supper, Charles told them of his ill-luck in regard
+to Colonel Cockburn. And when the tray went away, he got paper and ink
+and began to write to him.
+
+"He is sure to have heard of our misfortunes--don't you think so,
+Edina? I suppose I need only just allude to them."
+
+"Of course he has heard of them," broke in Alice, resentfully. "All
+the world must have heard of them."
+
+Charley went on writing. The first letter did not please him; and when
+it was nearly completed he tore it up and began another.
+
+"It is always difficult to know what to say in this kind of
+application: and I don't think I am much of a letter-writer," observed
+he, candidly.
+
+Alice grew tired, nodded over her embroidery, and at length said
+good-night and went upstairs. Edina sent the servant to bed, and
+stitched on at another pinafore.
+
+"I think that will do," said Charley: and he read the letter aloud.
+
+"It will do very well," acquiesced Edina. "But, Charley, I foresee all
+sorts of difficulties. To begin with, I am not at all sure that you
+are eligible for a commission: I fancy you ought to go first of all to
+Sandhurst or Woolwich."
+
+"Not a bit of it," replied Charley, full of confidence. "What other
+difficulties do you foresee, Edina?"
+
+"I wish you would give up the idea."
+
+"I dare say! What would you have me do, if I did give it up?"
+
+"Pocket your pride, and find a situation."
+
+Charles tossed his head. Pride was almost as much in the ascendant
+with him as it ever had been. He thought how old and silly Edina was
+growing. But he remembered what she had done for them, and would not
+quarrel with her.
+
+"Time enough to talk of that, Edina, when I have had Colonel
+Cockburn's answer."
+
+Edina said no more for a few moments. She rose; shook out Robert's
+completed pinafore, and folded it. "I had a scheme in my head,
+Charley; but you don't seem inclined to hear anything I may say upon
+the subject."
+
+"Yes, I will," replied Charley, opening his ears at the rather
+attractive word "scheme." "I will hear that."
+
+"I cannot help thinking that if George Atkinson were applied to, he
+would give you a post in his bank. He ought to do it. After turning
+you out of Eagles' Nest----"
+
+"I wouldn't apply to him; I wouldn't take it," interrupted Charles,
+fiercely, his anger aroused by the name. "If he offered me the best
+post in it to-morrow, I would fling it back in his face. Good-night,
+Edina: I'm off. I don't care to stay to hear of suggested obligations
+from _him_."
+
+On the day of Edina's departure for Trennach, the morning post brought
+Colonel Cockburn's answer to Charles. It was very short. Edina, her
+bonnet on, stood to read it over his shoulder. The colonel intimated
+that he did not quite comprehend Charles's application; but would see
+him on his return to London.
+
+"So there's nothing for it but to wait--and I hope he won't be long,"
+remarked Charles, as he folded the briefly-worded letter. "You must
+see there's nothing else, Edina."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+MR. MAX BROWN.
+
+
+In a populous and somewhat obscure part of Lambeth, not a hundred
+miles away from the great hospital, Bedlam, there ran a narrow street.
+Amongst the shops, on the left of this street in going from London,
+stood a house that could not strictly be called a shop now; though it
+had been one recently, and the two counters within it still remained.
+It had formerly been a small chemist's shop. About a year ago, a young
+medical man named Brown had taken it, done away with the drugs and
+chemicals, so far as retailing them to the public went, and there set
+himself up as a doctor. He dispensed his own medicines, so the
+counters were useful still, and his jars of powders and liquids
+occupied the pigeon-holes above, where the chemist's jars had once
+stood. The lower half of the windows had been stained white; on one of
+them was written in black letters, "Mr. Max Brown, surgeon;" on the
+other, "Mr. Max Brown, general medical practitioner."
+
+It was now about a year since Mr. Max Brown had thus established
+himself; and he had done very fairly. If his practice did not afford a
+promise that he would speedily become a millionaire, it at least was
+sufficient to keep him. And to keep him well. Mr. Brown had himself
+been born and reared in as crowded a part of London as this, somewhere
+towards Clerkenwell, therefore the locality did not offend his tastes.
+He anticipated remaining in it for good, and had not the slightest
+doubt that his practice would steadily increase, and afford him a
+carriage and a better house in time. The tradespeople around, though
+far below those of Bond Street in the social scale, were tradespeople
+of sufficient substance, and could afford to pay Mr. Brown. He was a
+little dark man, of affable nature and manners, clever in his
+profession, liked by his patients, and winning his way more surely
+amongst them day by day.
+
+In the midst of this humble prosperity a check occurred. Not to the
+prosperity, but to Mr. Brown's plans and projects. Several years
+before, his elder brother had gone to the West Indies, and his widowed
+mother and his sister had subsequently followed him out. The sister
+had married there. The brother, Kenneth Brown, was for some years
+successful manager of a planter's estate; he now managed one of his
+own. Altogether they were extremely prosperous; and the only one of
+the family left in England, Max, received pleasant letters from them
+by each fortnightly mail, and was quite at ease with regard to them.
+It therefore took him completely by surprise in the midst of this
+ease, to find himself suddenly summoned to Jamaica.
+
+One day in this same hot summer, early in the month of June--for we
+must go back two or three weeks in our story--Mr. Brown, having
+completed his morning round of calls on patients, stood behind his
+counter making up the physic required by them, and waiting for his
+queer old maid-servant, Eve, to come and tell him his one-o'clock
+dinner was ready. The door stood open to the hot street, and to the
+foot-passengers traversing the pavement; and Sam, the young boy, was
+waiting at the opposite counter with his covered basket until the
+physic should be ready.
+
+"That's all to-day, Sam," said his master, pleasantly, as he folded
+the white paper round the last bottle, and motioned to the lad to
+bring the basket forward. "And, look here"--showing one of the
+packets--"this is for a fresh place, Number 26, you see, in The Walk.
+It's a grocer's shop."
+
+"All right, sir. I shall find it."
+
+"Maximilian Brown, Esq.," interrupted a voice at this juncture. It was
+that of the postman. He came in at the open door, and read out the
+address of the letter--his usual custom--as he put it down.
+
+"Oh, the mail's in, I see," observed the doctor to him.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Postman and boy went out together. Mr. Brown, leisurely turning down
+his coat-cuffs, which were never allowed to come in contact with the
+physic, took up the West Indian letter, and broke the seal. By that
+seal, as well as by the writing, he knew it was from his mother. Mrs.
+Brown always sealed her letters.
+
+The letter contained only a few shaky lines. It told her son Max that
+she was ill; ill, as she feared, unto death. And it enjoined him to
+come out to Jamaica, that she might see him before she died. A note
+from his brother was enclosed, which contained these words--
+
+
+"Do come out, dear Max, if you can in any way manage it. Mother's
+heart is set upon it. There is no immediate danger, but she is
+breaking fast. Come by next mail if you can, the middle of June; but
+at any rate don't delay it longer than the beginning of July. I
+enclose you an order on our London bankers, that the want of funds may
+be no impediment to you.
+
+"Your affectionate brother,
+
+"KENNETH."
+
+
+It took a great deal to disturb the equable temperament of Max Brown.
+This did disturb him. He stood staring at the different missives: now
+at his mother's, now at his brother's, now at the good round sum named
+in the order. A thunderbolt could not more effectually have taken him
+back. Eve, a clean old body in a flowery chintz gown, with a mob-cap
+and bow of green ribbon surmounting her grey hair, came in twice to
+say the loin of lamb waited: but she received no reply in return.
+
+"I _can't_ go," Max was repeating to himself. "I don't see how I _can_
+go. What would become of my practice?"
+
+But his mother was his mother: and Max Brown, a dutiful son, began to
+feel that he should not like her to die before he had seen her once
+again. She was not sixty yet. The whole of the rest of the day and
+part of the night he was revolving matters in his mind; and in the
+morning he sent an advertisement to the _Times_ and to a medical
+journal.
+
+For more than a week the advertisement brought no result. Answers
+there were to it, and subsequent interviews with those who wrote them;
+but none that availed Max Brown. Either the applicants did not suit
+him, or his offer did not suit them. He then inserted the
+advertisement a second time.
+
+And it chanced to fall under the notice of Frank Raynor. Or, strictly
+speaking, under the notice of Frank's friend Crisp. This was close
+upon the return of Frank from Eagles' Nest. Daisy was with her sister
+in Westbourne Terrace, and Frank had been taken in by Mr. Crisp, a
+young surgeon who held an appointment in one of the London hospitals.
+He occupied private rooms, and could accommodate Frank with a
+sofa-bedstead. Mr. Crisp saw the advertisement on the morning of its
+second appearance in the _Times_, and pointed it out to Frank.
+
+"A qualified medical practitioner wanted, to take entire charge for a
+few months of a general practice in London during the absence of the
+principal."
+
+"It may be worth looking after, old fellow," said Crisp.
+
+Frank seized upon the suggestion eagerly. Most anxious was he to be
+relieved from his present state of inactivity. An interview took place
+between him and Max Brown; and before it terminated Frank had accepted
+the post.
+
+To him it looked all couleur-de-rose. During the very few days he had
+now been in London, that enemy, the Tiger, had troubled his mind more
+than was pleasant. That the man had come up in the same train, and
+absolutely in the compartment immediately behind his own, for the
+purpose of keeping him in view, and of tracking out his place of abode
+in town, appeared only too evident to him. When Frank had deposited
+his wife at her sister's door, the turnings and twistings he caused
+the cab to take in carrying him to Crisp's, would have been sufficient
+to baffle a detective. Frank hoped it had baffled the Tiger: but he
+had scarcely liked to show himself abroad since. Therefore the
+obscurity of the locality in which Mr. Brown's practice lay, whilst it
+had frightened away one or two dandies who had inquired about it, was
+a strong recommendation in the eyes of Frank.
+
+The terms proposed by Mr. Brown were these: That Frank Raynor should
+enter the house as he went out of it, take his place in all respects,
+carry on the practice for him until he himself returned, and live upon
+the proceeds. If the returns amounted to more than a certain sum, the
+surplus was to be reserved for Mr. Brown.
+
+Frank agreed to all: the terms were first-rate; just what he should
+have chosen, he said. And surely to him they looked so. He was
+suddenly lifted out of his state of penniless dependence, had a house
+over his head, and occupation. The very fact of possessing a home to
+bring Daisy to, would have lent enchantment to the view in his
+sanguine nature.
+
+"And by good luck I shall dodge the Tiger," he assured himself. "He
+will never think of looking for me _here_. Were he to find me out, Mr.
+Blase Pellet would be down upon me for hush-money--for that I expect
+will be his move the moment he thinks I have any money in my pocket.
+Yes, better to be in this obscure place at present, than flourishing
+before the West-end world as a royal physician."
+
+So when preliminaries were arranged he wrote to Mrs. Raynor, saying
+what a jolly thing he had dropped into.
+
+But Mr. Max Brown reconsidered one item in the arrangement. Instead of
+Frank's coming in when he left, he had him there a week beforehand
+that he might introduce him to the patients. Frank was to take to the
+old servant, Eve, and to the boy, Sam: in short, nothing was to be
+altered, nothing changed excepting the master. Frank was to walk in
+and Mr. Brown to walk out; all else was to go on as before. Mr. Brown
+made no sort of objection to Frank's wife sharing the home: on the
+contrary, he made one or two extra arrangements for her comfort. When
+he sailed, the beginning of July, Frank was fully installed, and Daisy
+might come as soon as she pleased. But her sister wished to keep her a
+little longer.
+
+On one of the hot mornings in that same month of July, a well-dressed
+young fellow in deep mourning might be seen picking his way through
+the narrow streets of Lambeth, rendered ankle-deep in mud by the
+prodigal benevolence of the water-cart. It was Charles Raynor. Having
+nothing to do with his time, he had come forth to find out Frank.
+
+"It _can't_ be here!" cried Charley to himself, sniffing about
+fastidiously. "Frank would never take a practice in a low place like
+this! I say--here, youngster," he cried, arresting the steps of a
+tattered girl, who was running out of a shop, "do you chance to know
+where Mark Street is?"
+
+"First turning you comes to," promptly responded the damsel, with
+assured confidence.
+
+Charles found the turning and the street, and went down it, looking on
+all sides for the house he wanted. As he did not remember, or else did
+not know, the name of Frank's predecessor, the words "Mr. Max Brown"
+on some window-panes on the opposite side of the way afforded him no
+guide; and he might have gone on into endless wilds but for catching
+sight within the house of a shapely head and some bright hair, which
+he knew belonged to Frank. He crossed the street at a bound, and
+entered.
+
+"Frank!"
+
+Standing in the identical spot in which Max Brown was standing when we
+first saw him, was Frank, his head bent forward over an account-book,
+in which he was writing. He looked up hastily.
+
+"Charley!"
+
+Their hands met, and some mutual inquiries ensued. They had not seen
+each other since quitting Eagles' Nest.
+
+"We thought you must be dead and buried, Frank. You might have come to
+see us."
+
+"Just what I have been thinking--that you might have come to see me,"
+returned Frank. "_I_ can't get away. Since Brown left, and for a week
+before it, I have not had a moment to myself: morning, noon and night,
+I am tied to my post here. Your time is your own, Charley."
+
+"I have been about at the West-end, finding out Colonel Cockburn, and
+doing one thing or another," said Charley, by way of excusing his
+laziness. "Edina left us only yesterday."
+
+"For Trennach?"
+
+"Yes, for Trennach. We fancy she means to take up her abode for good
+in the old place. She does not feel at home anywhere else, she says,
+as she does there. It was good of her, though, was it not, Frank, to
+set us up in the new home?"
+
+"Very good--even for Edina. And I believe few people in this world are
+so practically good as she is. I did a little towards helping her
+choose the furniture; not much, because I arranged with Brown. How is
+the school progressing?"
+
+"All right. It is a dreadful come-down: but it has to be put up with.
+Alice cries every night."
+
+"And about yourself? Have you formed any plans?"
+
+"I am waiting till Cockburn returns to town. I expect he will get me a
+commission."
+
+"A commission!" exclaimed Frank, dubiously; certain doubts and
+difficulties crossing his mind, as they had crossed Edina's.
+
+"It will be the best thing for me if I can only obtain it. There is no
+other opening."
+
+Frank remained silent. His doubts were very strong indeed; but he
+never liked to inflict thorns where he could not scatter flowers, and
+he would not damp Charley's evident ardour. Time might do that quickly
+enough.
+
+Charley was looking about him. He had been looking about him ever
+since he entered, somewhat after the fastidious manner that he had
+looked at the streets, but more furtively. Appearances were surprising
+him. The small shop (it seemed no better) with the door standing open
+to the narrow street; the counters on either side; the glass jars
+above; the scales lying to hand, and sundry packets of pills and
+powders beside them: to him, it all savoured of a small retail
+chemist's business. Charley thought he must be in a sort of dream. He
+could not understand how or why Frank had condescended to so inferior
+a position as this.
+
+"Do you _like_ this place, Frank?"
+
+"Uncommonly," answered Frank: and his honest blue eyes, glancing
+brightly into Charley's, confirmed the words. "It is a relief to be in
+harness again; and to have a home to bring Daisy to."
+
+"Will Daisy like it?" questioned Charles. And the hesitation in his
+tone, which he could not suppress, plainly betrayed his opinion--that
+she would not like it.
+
+Frank's countenance fell. It was the one bitter drop in the otherwise
+sufficiently palatable cup.
+
+"I _wish_ I could have done better for her. It is only for a time, you
+know, Charley."
+
+"I see," said Charley, feeling relieved. "You are only here whilst
+looking out for something better."
+
+"That's it, in one sense. I stay here until Brown comes back. By that
+time I hope to--to pick myself up again."
+
+The slight pause was caused by a consciousness that he did not feel
+assured upon the point. That Mr. Blase Pellet and his emissary, the
+Tiger, and all their unfriendly machinations combined, would by that
+time be in some way satisfactorily disposed of, leaving himself a free
+agent again, Frank devoutly hoped and most sanguinely expected. It was
+only when his mind dipped into details, and he began to consider how
+and by what means these enemies were likely to be subdued, that he
+felt anxious and doubtful.
+
+"Something good may turn up for you, Frank, before the fellow--Brown,
+if that's his name--comes home. I suppose you'll take it if it does."
+
+"Not I. My bargain with Brown is to remain here until he returns. And
+here I shall remain."
+
+"Oh, well--of course a bargain's a bargain. How long does he expect to
+be away?"
+
+"He did not know. He might stay four or six months with his people, he
+thought, if things went on well here."
+
+"I say, why do you keep that street-door open?"
+
+"I don't know," answered Frank. "From habit, I suppose. Brown used to
+keep it open, and I have done the same. I like it so. It gives a
+little liveliness to the place."
+
+"People may take the place for a shop, and come in."
+
+"Some have done so," laughed Frank. "It was a chemist's shop before
+Brown took to it. I tell them it is only a surgery now."
+
+"When do you expect Daisy?" asked Charles, after a pause.
+
+"This evening."
+
+"This evening!"
+
+"I shall snatch a moment at dusk to fetch her," added Frank. "Mrs.
+Townley is going into Cornwall on a visit to The Mount, and Daisy
+comes home."
+
+"Have the people at The Mount forgiven Daisy yet?"
+
+"No. They will not do that, I expect, until I am established as a
+first-rate practitioner, with servants and carriages about me. Mrs.
+St. Clare likes show."
+
+"She wouldn't like this, I'm afraid," spoke Charles, candidly, looking
+up at the low ceiling and across at the walls.
+
+Frank was saved a reply. Sam, the boy, who had been out on an errand,
+entered, and began delivering a message to his master.
+
+"Would you like some dinner, Charley?" asked Frank. "Come along, I
+don't know what there is to-day."
+
+Passing through a side-door behind him, Frank stepped into an
+adjoining sitting-room. It was narrow, but comfortable. The window
+looked to the street. The fireplace was at the opposite end, side by
+side with the door that led to the house beyond. A mahogany sofa
+covered with horsehair stood against the wall on one side; a low
+bookcase and a work-table on the other. The chairs matched the sofa;
+on the centre table the dinner-cloth was laid.
+
+"Not a bad room, this," said Charley, thinking it an improvement on
+the shop.
+
+"There's a better sitting-room upstairs," observed Frank.
+
+"Well furnished, too. Brown liked to have decent things about him; and
+his people, he said, helped him liberally when he set up here. That
+work-table he bought the other day for Daisy's benefit."
+
+"He must be rather a good sort of a fellow."
+
+"He's a very good one. What have you for dinner, Eve? Put a knife and
+fork for this gentleman."
+
+"Roast beef, sir," replied the old woman, who was carrying in the
+dishes, and nodded graciously to Charles, as much as to say he was
+welcome. "I thought the new mistress might like to find a cut of cold
+meat in the house."
+
+"Quite right," said Frank. "Sit down, Charley."
+
+Charley sat down, and did ample justice to the dinner, especially the
+Yorkshire pudding, a dish of which he was particularly fond, and had
+not lost his relish for amidst the dainties of the table at Eagles'
+Nest. He began to think Frank's quarters were not so bad on the whole,
+compared with no quarters at all, and no dinner to eat.
+
+"Have you chanced to see that man, Charley, since you came to London?"
+inquired Frank, putting the question with a certain reluctance, for he
+hated to allude to the subject.
+
+"What man?" returned Charley.
+
+"The Tiger."
+
+"No, I have not seen him. I learnt at Oxford that I had been mistaken
+in thinking he was looking after me----"
+
+"He was not looking after you," interrupted Frank.
+
+"My creditors there all assured me---- Oh, Frank, how could I forget?"
+broke off Charley. "What an ungrateful fellow I am! Though, indeed,
+not really ungrateful, but it had temporarily slipped my memory. How
+good it was of you to settle those two bills for me! I would not write
+to thank you: I preferred to wait until we met. How did you raise the
+money?"
+
+Frank, who had finished his dinner, had nothing to do but to stare at
+Charles. And he did stare, "I don't know what you are talking about,
+Charley. What bills have I settled for you?"
+
+"The two wretched bills I had accepted and went about in fear of. You
+know. Was it not you who paid them?"
+
+"Are they paid?"
+
+"Yes. All paid and done with. It must have been you, Frank. There's no
+one else that it could have been."
+
+"My good lad, I assure you I know nothing whatever about it. Where
+should I get a hundred pounds from? What could induce you to think it
+was I?"
+
+Charles told the tale--all he knew of it. They wasted some minutes in
+conjectures, and then came to the conclusion that it must have been
+Major Raynor himself who had paid. He had become acquainted in some
+way with Charles's trouble and had quietly relieved it. A lame
+conclusion, as both felt: for setting aside the fact that the poor
+major was short of money himself, to pay bills for his son secretly
+was eminently uncharacteristic of him: he would have been far more
+likely to proclaim it to the whole house, and reproach Charley in its
+hearing. But they were fain to rest in the belief, from sheer want of
+any other benefactor to fix upon. Not a soul was there in the wide
+world, as far as Charley knew, to come forth in this manner, excepting
+his father.
+
+"I think it must have been so," concluded Charles. "Perhaps the dear
+old man got to know, through Lamb, of Huddles's visit that day."
+
+"And what of Eagles' Nest?" asked Frank, as he passed back into the
+surgery with Charles, and sent the boy into the kitchen to his dinner.
+"Has George Atkinson taken possession yet?"
+
+"We have heard nothing of Eagles' Nest, Frank; we don't care to hear
+anything. Possession? Of course he has. You may depend upon it he
+would make an indecent rush into it the very day after we came out of
+it, the wretch! If he did not the same night."
+
+Frank could not help a smile at the outburst of indignation. "Atkinson
+ought to do something for you, Charley," he said. "After turning you
+out of one home, the least he could do would be to find you another. I
+dare say he might put you into some post or other."
+
+"And do you suppose I'd take it!" fired Charles, his eyes blazing.
+"What queer ideas you must have, Frank! You are as bad as Edina. As
+if----"
+
+"Oh, please, Dr. Brown, would you come to mother," interrupted a small
+child, darting in at the open door. "She have fell through the back
+parlour window a-cleaning of it, and her arm be broke, she says."
+
+"Who is your mother, little one?"
+
+"At the corner shop, please, sir. Number eleven."
+
+"Tell her I will come directly."
+
+Charles was taking up his hat, to leave. "Why does she call you Dr.
+Brown?" he questioned, as the child ran off, and Frank was making
+ready to follow her and summoning Sam to the surgery.
+
+"Half the people here call me so. It comes more readily to them than
+the new name. Good-bye, Charley. My love to all at home. Come again
+soon."
+
+He sped away in the wake of the child. Charley turned the other way on
+his road homewards, carrying with him a very disparaging opinion of
+Lambeth.
+
+
+In the small back sitting-room, underneath its two lighted
+gas-burners, stood Mrs. Frank Raynor, her heart beating faster than
+usual, her breath laboured. She felt partly frightened, partly
+confused by what she saw--by the aspect of the place she was brought
+to, as her new home. Frank had in a degree prepared her for it as they
+came along in the cab which brought them, Daisy's boxes piled upon it:
+but either he had done it insufficiently, or she had failed to realize
+his description of what he called the "humble den," for it came upon
+her with a shock. Both as Margaret St. Clare and as Margaret Raynor
+her personal experiences of dwelling-places had been pleasant and
+sunny.
+
+The clock was striking ten when the cab had drawn up in Mark Street.
+She looked out to see why it stopped. She saw a narrow street, an
+inferior locality, small shops on either side. The one before which
+they had halted appeared to be a shop too: the door stood open, a
+gas-burner was alight within.
+
+"Why are we stopping here, Frank?"
+
+Frank, hastening to jump out, did not hear the question. He turned to
+help her.
+
+"This is not the place?" she cried in doubt.
+
+"Yes, this is it, Daisy."
+
+He took her in, piloted her between the counters into the lighted
+side-room, and turned back to see to the luggage; leaving her utterly
+aghast, bewildered, and standing as still as a statue.
+
+The door at the end of the room opened, and a curious old figure,
+attired in a chintz gown of antique shape, with a huge bow of green
+ribbon on her muslin cap, appeared at it. Eve curtsied to her new
+mistress: the new mistress stared at the servant.
+
+"You are welcome, ma'am. We are glad to see you. And, please, would
+you like the supper-tray brought in?"
+
+"Is--is this Mr. Raynor's?" questioned Daisy, in tones that seemed to
+say she dreaded the answer.
+
+"Sure enough it is, ma'am, for the present. He is here during the
+master's absence."
+
+Daisy said no more. She only stood still in her grievous astonishment,
+striving to comprehend it all, and to hush her dismayed heart. The
+luggage was being brought in, and Eve went to help with it. Frank
+found his wife seated on the horsehair sofa, when he came in; and
+caught the blank look on her pale face.
+
+"You are tired, Daisy. You would like to take your things off. Come
+upstairs, and I will show you your bedroom."
+
+Lighting a candle, he led the way, Daisy following mechanically up the
+steep, confined staircase, to which she herself seemed to present a
+contrast, with her fashionable attire of costly black gauze, relieved
+by frillings of soft white net.
+
+"The room's not very large, Daisy," he said, entering one on the first
+floor, the window looking out on some back leads. "There's a larger
+one in front on the upper landing, but I thought you would prefer
+this, and it is better furnished. It was Brown's room. He said I had
+better take to it, for if I went up higher I might not hear the
+night-bell.
+
+"Yes," replied Daisy, faintly, undoing the strings of her bonnet. "Was
+it a--a shop we came through?"
+
+"That was the surgery. It used to be a shop, and Brown never took the
+trouble to alter its arrangement."
+
+"Have you always to come through it on entering the house?"
+
+"Yes. There is no other entrance. The houses in these crowded places
+are confined in space, you see, Daisy. I will help Sam to bring up the
+boxes," added Frank, disappearing.
+
+When finally left to herself, Margaret sat down and burst into a
+passionate flood of tears. It seemed to her that, in coming to dwell
+here, she must lose caste for ever. Frank called to her presently, to
+know whether she was not coming down.
+
+Drying her eyes as she best could, she took up the candle to descend.
+On the opposite side of the small landing, a door stood open to a
+sitting-room, and she looked in. A fair-sized room this, for it was
+over both the surgery and the parlour, and a very nice room too, its
+carpet of a rich dark hue, with chairs and window-hangings to match,
+and furniture that was good and handsome. She put the candle on a
+console, crossed to one of the windows, and gazed down at the street.
+
+Late though it was, people were surging to and fro; not at all the
+sort of people Daisy had been accustomed to. Over the way was a small
+fish-shop: a ragged man and boy, standing before it, were eating
+mussels. To pass one's days in such a street as this must be
+frightfully depressing, and Mrs. Raynor burst into tears again.
+
+"Why, my darling, what is the matter?"
+
+Frank, coming up in search of her, found her sobbing wildly, her head
+buried on the arm of one of the chairs. She lifted it, and let it rest
+upon his shoulder.
+
+"You are disappointed, Daisy. I see it."
+
+"It--it is such a wretched street, Frank; and--and such a house!"
+
+Frank flushed painfully. He felt the complaint to his heart's core.
+
+"It is only for a time, Daisy. Until I can get into something better.
+If that may ever be!" he added to himself, as Blase Pellet's image
+rose before his mind.
+
+Daisy sobbed more quietly. He was holding her to him.
+
+"I know, my poor girl, how inferior it is; altogether different from
+anything you have been accustomed to; but this home is better than
+none at all. We can at least be together and be happy here."
+
+"Yes, we can," replied Daisy, rallying her spirits and her sweet
+nature, as she lifted her face to look into his. "I married you for
+worse, as well as for better, Frank, my best love. We _will_ be happy
+in it."
+
+"As happy as a king and queen in a fairy-tale," rejoined Frank, a
+whole world of hope in his tones.
+
+And that was Daisy's instalment in her London home.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+A NIGHT ALARM.
+
+
+Misfortunes seldom come singly. Many of us, unhappily, have had good
+cause only too often to learn the truth of the saying; but few, it is
+to be hoped, have experienced it in an equal degree with the Raynors.
+For another calamity was in store for them: one that, taking the
+difference between their present and past circumstances into
+consideration, was at least as distressing as the ejection from
+Eagles' Nest.
+
+But it did not happen quite immediately. The weeks were calmly
+passing, and Mrs. Raynor felt in spirits; for two more day-scholars
+had entered at the half-quarter, and another boarder was promised at
+Michaelmas. So that matters might be said to be progressing
+satisfactorily though monotonously. Monotony, however, does not suit
+young people, especially if they have been suddenly plunged into it.
+It did not suit Charles and Alice Raynor. Ever contrasting, as they
+were, the present enforced quiet and obscurity with the past life at
+Eagles' Nest, its show, society, and luxuries, no wonder that they
+felt well-nigh weary unto death. At first it was almost unbearable.
+But they could not help themselves: it had to be endured. Charles was
+worse off than Alice; she had her school duties to occupy her during
+the day; he had nothing. Colonel Cockburn had not yet returned to
+London, and Charles told himself and his mother that he must wait for
+him. As the weeks went on, some relief suggested itself from this
+dreariness--perhaps was the result of it.
+
+The alleviation was found in private theatricals. They had made the
+acquaintance of some neighbours named Earle; had become intimate with
+them. The circumstances of the two families were much alike, and
+perhaps this at first drew them together. Captain Earle--a
+post-captain in the Royal Navy--had left only a slender income to his
+wife at his death: just enough to enable her to live quietly, and
+bring up her children inexpensively. They were gentlepeople; and that
+went a long way with the Raynors. The young Earles--four of them--were
+all in their teens: the eldest son had a post in Somerset House, the
+younger one went to a day-school in the neighbourhood, the two
+daughters had finished their education, and were at home. It chanced
+that these young people had a passion just now for private
+theatricals, and the Raynors caught the infection. After witnessing a
+performance at Mrs. Earle's of a popular comedy, Charles and Alice
+Raynor got up from it wild to perform one at their own home.
+
+And probably the very eagerness with which they pursued the fancy,
+arose out of the recent monotony of their lives. Mrs. Raynor looked
+grave: she did not know whether the parents of her pupils would
+approve of private theatricals. But her children overruled her
+objection, and she could only yield to them. She always did so.
+
+They fixed upon Goldsmith's comedy, "She Stoops to Conquer." A
+thoroughly good play in itself. Charles procured some sixpenny copies
+of it, and drew his pen through any part that he considered unsuited
+to present taste, which shortened the play very much. He chose the
+part of Charles Marlowe; Alice that of Miss Hardcastle; Mrs. Earle,
+who liked the amusement as much as her children did, would be Mrs.
+Hardcastle; her eldest daughter Constance Neville: and the young
+Somerset-House clerk Tony Lumpkin. The other characters were taken by
+some acquaintances of the Earles.
+
+And now, fairly launched upon this new project, the monotony of the
+house disappeared: for the time they even forgot to lament after
+Eagles' Nest. Dresses, gauzes, tinsel, green-baize curtains, and all
+the rest of it, were to be lent by the Earles; so that no cost was
+involved in the entertainment. The schoolroom was to be the theatre,
+and the pupils were to have seats amongst the audience.
+
+Charles entered into it with wonderful energy. He never now had a
+minute for lying on three chairs, or for stretching his hands above
+his head to help a mournful yawn. A letter that arrived from Edina,
+requiring him to transact a little matter of business, was wholly
+neglected; it would have involved his going to the City, and he said
+he had no time for it.
+
+Edina had intended to insure the new furniture in the same Cornish
+office that her father had insured his in for so many years. Perhaps
+she had more faith in it than in the London offices. However, after
+some negotiations with the Cornish company upon her return to
+Trennach, they declined the offer, as the furniture it related to was
+so far away, and recommended a safe and good insurance company in the
+City of London. She wrote to Mrs. Raynor, desiring that Charles should
+at once go to the City to do what was necessary and secure the policy.
+Charles put it off upon the plea that he was too busy; it could wait.
+
+"Charley, I think you ought to do it, if only to comply with Edina's
+wish," urged Mrs. Raynor.
+
+"And so I will, mother, as soon as I get a little time."
+
+"It would only take you half-a-day, my dear."
+
+"But I can't spare the half-day. Do you think the house is going to be
+burnt down?"
+
+"Nonsense, Charley!"
+
+"Then where's the need of hurry?" he persisted. "I have looked after
+every one else's part so much and the arrangements altogether, that I
+scarcely know a word yet of my own. I stuck yesterday at the very
+first sentence Charles Marlowe has to say."
+
+Mrs. Raynor, never able to contend against a stronger will than her
+own, gave in as usual, saying no more. And Charles was left
+unmolested.
+
+But in the midst of this arduous labour, for other people as well as
+for himself, Charles received news from Colonel Cockburn. The colonel
+wrote to say he was in London for a couple of days, and Charles might
+call in St. James's Street the following morning.
+
+This mandate Charles would not put off, in spite of the exigencies of
+the theatricals; and of the first rehearsal, two evenings hence. The
+grand performance was to take place during the few days' holiday Mrs.
+Raynor gave at Michaelmas; and Michaelmas would be upon them in a
+little more than a week.
+
+Charles went to St. James's Street. And there his hopes, in regard to
+the future, received a very decided check. Colonel Cockburn--who
+turned out to be a feeble and deaf old gentleman--informed Charles
+that he could not help him to obtain a commission, and moreover,
+explained many things to him, and assured him that he had no chance of
+obtaining one. No one, the colonel said, could get one now, unless he
+had been specially prepared for it. He would advise Charles, he added,
+to embrace a civil profession; say the law. It was very easy to go to
+the Bar, he believed; involving only, so far as he knew, the eating of
+a certain number of dinners. All this sounded very cruel to Charles
+Raynor. Otherwise the colonel was kind. He kept him for the day, and
+took him to dine at his club.
+
+It was late when Charles reached home; thoroughly tired.
+Disappointment alone inflicts weariness. Mrs. Raynor felt terribly
+disheartened at the news.
+
+"There have been so many weeks lost, you see, Charley!"
+
+"Yes," returned Charles, gloomily. "I'm sure I don't know what to be
+at now. Cockburn suggested the Bar. He says one may qualify for almost
+nothing."
+
+"We will talk about it to-morrow Charley," said Mrs. Raynor. "It is
+past bedtime, and I am tired. You were not thinking of sitting up
+later, were you, my dear?" she added, as Charles took up "She Stoops
+to Conquer" from a side table.
+
+"Oh, well--I suppose not, if you say it is so late," he replied.
+
+"The dresses have come, ready for the rehearsal, Charley," whispered
+Alice, as they were going upstairs. "I have put them in your room.
+Charlotte Earle and I have been trying on ours. I mean to wear one of
+Edina's brown holland aprons while I am supposed to be a barmaid."
+
+"I'll be shot if I know half my part," grumbled Charley. "It _was_ a
+bother, having to go out to-day!"
+
+"You can learn it before Michaelmas."
+
+"Of course I can. But one likes to be perfect at rehearsal.
+Good-night."
+
+Charles turned into his room, and shut the door. It was a good-sized
+apartment, one that Mrs. Raynor destined for boarders, when the school
+should have increased. The first thing he saw, piled up between the
+bed and the wall, partly on a low chest of drawers, partly on the
+floor, was a confused heap of gay clothes and other articles: the
+theatrical paraphernalia that had been brought round from Mrs.
+Earle's. Upon the top of all, lay a yellow gauze dress edged with
+tinsel. Charles, all his interest in the coming rehearsal reviving at
+the sight, touched it gingerly here and there, and wondered whether it
+might be the state robe for one of the younger ladies, or for Tony
+Lumpkin's mother.
+
+"I wish to goodness I was more perfect in my part!" cried he, pulling
+corners out of the other things to see what they consisted of.
+"Suppose I give half-an-hour to it, before I get into bed?"
+
+The little book was still in his hand. He lodged the candle on the
+edge of the drawers amidst the finery, and sat down near, pausing in
+the act of taking off his coat. Alfred lay on the far side of the bed
+fast asleep. A night or two ago, for this was by no means the first
+time he had sat down in his chamber to con the sayings of young
+Marlowe, Charles took his coat off, dropped asleep, and woke up cold
+when the night was half over. So he concluded that he would keep his
+coat on now.
+
+Precisely the same event took place: Charles fell asleep. Tired with
+his day's journey, he had not studied the book five minutes when it
+fell from his hands. He was soon in a sound slumber. How long he
+remained in it he never knew, but he was awakened by a shout and a
+cry. Fire!
+
+A shout and a cry, and a great glare of light. Fire? Yes, it was fire.
+Whether Charles had thrown out his arm in his sleep and turned the
+candle over, or whether a spark had shot out from it, he knew not,
+never would know; but the pile of inflammable gauzes and other stuffs
+lying there had caught light. The flames had penetrated to the bed,
+and finally awakened Alfred. It was Alfred who shouted the alarm.
+Perhaps Charles owed his life to the fact that he had kept his coat
+on: its sleeve was scorched.
+
+These scenes have been often described before: it is of no use to
+detail another here. A household aroused in the depth of the night;
+terrified women and children crying and running: flames mounting,
+smoke suffocating. They all escaped with life, taking refuge at the
+dwelling of a neighbour; but the house and its contents were burnt to
+the ground.
+
+
+"MY DEAR EDINA,
+
+"I never began a letter like this in all my life: it will have nothing
+in it but ill news and misery. Whether I am doing wrong in writing to
+you, I hardly know. My mother would not write. She feels a delicacy in
+disclosing our calamities to you, after your generous kindness in
+providing us with a home; and she must be ashamed to tell you about
+me. The home is lost, Edina, and I am the cause of it.
+
+"I am too wretched to go into details: and, if I did, you might not
+have patience to read them; so I will tell the story in as few words
+as I can. We--I, Alice, and the Earles: you may remember them as
+living in the low, square house, near the church--were going to act a
+play, 'She Stoops to Conquer.' I sat up last Wednesday night to study
+my part, dropped asleep, and somehow the candle set light to some
+stage dresses that were lying ready in my chamber. When I woke up, the
+room was in flames. None of us are hurt; but the house is burnt down;
+and everything that was in it.
+
+"This is not all. I hate to make the next confession to you more than
+I hated this one. The insurance on the furniture had not been
+effected. I had put it off and off; though my mother urged me more
+than once to go and do it.
+
+"You have spoken sometimes, Edina, of the necessity of acting rightly,
+so that we may enjoy a peaceful conscience. If you only knew what mine
+is now, and the torment of remorse I endure, even you might feel a
+passing shade of pity for me. There are moments when the weight seems
+more than I can bear.
+
+"We have taken a small, cheap lodging near; number five, in the next
+street; and what the future is to be I cannot tell. It of course falls
+to my lot now to keep them, as it is through me they have lost their
+home, and _I shall try and do it_. Life will be no play-day with me
+now.
+
+"I thought it my duty to tell you this, Edina. Whilst holding back
+from the task, I have yet said to myself that you would reproach me if
+I did not. And you will not mistake the motive, since you are aware
+that I know you parted with every shilling you had, to provide us with
+the last home.
+
+"Write a few words of consolation to my mother; no one can do it as
+you can; and _don't spare me to her_.
+
+"Your unhappy cousin,
+
+"CHARLES."
+
+
+Frank Raynor once made the remark in our hearing that somehow every
+one turned to Edina in trouble. Charley had instinctively turned to
+her. Not because it might lie in his duty to let her know what had
+come to pass, to confess his own share in it, his imprudent folly; but
+for the sake of his mother. Though Edina had no more money to give
+away, and could not help them to another home, he knew that if any one
+could breathe a word of comfort to her, it was Edina.
+
+One thing lay more heavily upon his conscience than all the rest; and
+if he had not mentioned this to Edina, it was not that he wished to
+spare himself, for he was in the mood to confess everything that could
+tell against him, almost with exaggeration, but that in the hurry of
+writing he had unintentionally omitted it. On one of the previous
+nights that he had been studying his part, Mrs. Raynor caught sight of
+the light under his door. Opening it, she found him sitting on the bed
+in his shirt-sleeves, reading. There and then she spoke of the danger,
+and begged him never to sit up at night again. The fact was this:
+Charles Raynor had nothing on earth to do with his time; an idle young
+fellow, as he was, needed not the night for work; but his habits had
+grown so desultory that he could settle to no occupation in the
+daytime.
+
+The answer from Edina did not come. Charles said nothing about having
+written to her; but he did fully hope and expect Edina would write to
+his mother. Morning after morning he posted himself outside the door
+to watch for the postman; and morning after morning the man passed and
+gave him nothing.
+
+"Edina is too angry to write," concluded Charles, at last. "This has
+been too much even for her." And he betook himself to his walk to
+London.
+
+No repentance could be more thoroughly sincere than was Charles
+Raynor's. The last dire calamity had taken all his pride and elevated
+notions out of him. The family were helpless, hopeless; and he had
+rendered them so. No clothes, no food, no prospects, no home, no
+money. A few articles of wearing apparel had been thrown out of the
+burning house, chiefly belonging to Alice, but not many. All the money
+Mrs. Raynor had in the world--four banknotes of five pounds each--had
+been consumed. There had chanced to be a little gold in Charles's
+pockets, given him to pay the insurance, some taxes, and other
+necessary matters; and that was all they had to go on with. Night
+after night Charles lay awake, lamenting his folly, and making huge
+resolves to remedy the evil results of it.
+
+They must have food to eat; though it were but bread-and-cheese; they
+must have a roof over them, let it be ever so confined. And there was
+only himself to provide this. Any thought of setting up a school again
+could not present itself to their minds after the late ignominious
+failure: they had no means of doing it, and the little pupils had gone
+from them for ever. No; all lay on Charles. He studied the columns of
+the _Times_, and walked up and down London until he was footsore;
+footsore and heart-sick; trying to get one of the desirable places
+advertised as vacant. In vain.
+
+He had been doing this now for four or five days. On this, the sixth
+day, when he reached home after his weary walk, the landlady of the
+house stood at the open door, bargaining for one of the pots of musk
+that a man was carrying about for sale. Charles wished her
+good-evening as he passed on to the parlour; and there he met with a
+surprise, for in it sat Edina. She had evidently just arrived. Her
+travelling-cloak was thrown on the back of a chair, her black mantle
+was only unfastened, her bonnet was still on. Katie and Robert sat at
+her feet; the tea-things were on the table, Alice was cutting
+bread-and-butter, and Mrs. Raynor was sobbing. Charles held out his
+hand with hesitation, feeling that it was not worthy for Edina to
+touch, and a red flush dyed his face.
+
+After tea the conversation turned on their present position, on plans
+and projects. Ah what poor ones they were! Mrs. Raynor acknowledged
+freely that she had only a few shillings left.
+
+"Have you been paid for the pupils?" asked Edina.
+
+"No," said Mrs. Raynor. "I have not yet sent in the accounts. The
+children were not with me quite a quarter, you know, and perhaps some
+of the parents may make that an excuse, combined with the termination,
+for not paying me at all. Even if I get the money, there are debts to
+be paid out of it: the tradespeople, the stationer, the maidservant's
+wages. Not much will be left of it."
+
+"Then, Mary, let us settle to-night what is to be done."
+
+"What can be settled?" returned Mrs. Raynor, hopelessly. "I see
+nothing at all before us. Except starvation."
+
+"Don't talk of starvation while Heaven spares us the use of our minds
+to plan, and our hands to work," said Edina, pleasantly; and the
+bright tone cheered Mrs. Raynor. "For one thing, I have come up to
+live with you."
+
+"Edina!"
+
+"I cannot provide you with another home: you know why," continued
+Edina: "but I can share with you all I have left--my income. It is so
+small a one that perhaps you will hardly thank me for it, saddled with
+myself; but at least it is something to fall back upon, and we can all
+share together."
+
+Mrs. Raynor burst into tears again. Never strong in resources, the
+repeated calamities she had been subjected to of late had tended to
+render her next-door to helpless both in body and spirit. Charles
+turned to Edina, brushing his eyelashes.
+
+"I cannot presume to thank you, Edina: you would not care to receive
+thanks from me. _I_ am hoping to support them."
+
+"In what manner, Charles?" asked Edina; and her tone was as kind as
+usual. "I hear you have lost hopes of the commission."
+
+"By getting into some situation and earning a weekly salary at it,"
+spoke Charles, bravely. "The worst is, situations seem to be so
+unattainable."
+
+"How do you know they are unattainable?"
+
+"I have done nothing the last few days but look for one. Besides the
+places advertised, I can't tell you how many banks and other
+establishments I have made bold to go into, asking if they want a
+clerk. A hundred a-year would be something."
+
+"It would be a great deal," replied Edina, significantly. "Salaries to
+that amount are certainly hard to find. I question if you would get
+half of it at first."
+
+A blank look overspread Charley's face. Edina's judgment had always
+been sound.
+
+"But why do you question it, Edina?"
+
+"Because you are inexperienced: totally unused to business; to work of
+any kind."
+
+"Yes, that's what some of the people say when they question me."
+
+"There is one person who might help you to such a situation, if he
+would," observed Edina, slowly. "But I shall offend you if I speak of
+him, Charles: as I did once before."
+
+"You mean George Atkinson!"
+
+"I do. If he chose to put you into his bank, he might give you any
+salary he pleased; and he might be willing to do it, whether you
+earned it or not. I think he would, if I asked him."
+
+There was a pause. Edina's thoughts were carrying her back to the old
+days when George Atkinson had been all the world to her. It would cost
+her something to apply to him; but for the sake of this helpless
+family, she must bring her mind to doing it.
+
+"What do you say, Charles?"
+
+"I say yes, Edina. I have nothing but humble-pie to eat just now: it
+will be only another slice of it. Banking work seems to consist of
+everlastingly adding up columns of figures: I should grow expert at it
+no doubt in time."
+
+"Then I will go to-morrow and see whether he is in town," decided
+Edina. "If not, I must travel down to Eagles' Nest."
+
+"You might write instead," suggested Mrs. Raynor.
+
+"No, Mary, I will not write. A personal interview gives so much more
+chance of success in an application of this nature."
+
+"_I_ could not apply to him personally," sighed Mrs. Raynor.
+
+But Edina never shrank from a duty; and the next morning saw her at
+the banking-house of Atkinson and Street, the very house where she had
+spent those few happy days of her early life when she had learned to
+love. Mr. Street and his wife lived in it now. She went to the private
+door and asked for him. He had known her in those days; and a smile
+actually crossed his calm cold face as he shook hands with her: and to
+her he proved more communicative than he generally showed himself to
+the world.
+
+"Is Mr. Atkinson in town?" she inquired, when a few courtesies had
+passed.
+
+"No. He----"
+
+"I feared not," quickly spoke Edina, for she had quite anticipated the
+answer. "I thought he would be at Eagles' Nest."
+
+"But he is not at Eagles' Nest," interposed the banker. "He is on the
+high seas, on his way to New Zealand."
+
+"On his way to New Zealand!" echoed Edina, hardly thinking, in her
+surprise, that she heard correctly.
+
+"He went away again immediately. I do not suppose he was in London a
+fortnight altogether."
+
+"Then he could not have made much stay at Eagles' Nest?"
+
+"He did not make any stay at it," replied Edwin Street. "I don't think
+he went down to Eagles' Nest at all. If he did go, he came back the
+same day, for he never slept one night away from this house throughout
+his sojourn."
+
+"But what could be his reason?" reiterated Edina, wonderingly. "Why
+has he gone away so soon again?"
+
+"He put it upon the score of his health, Miss Raynor. England does not
+agree with him. At least, he fancies it does not."
+
+"And who is living at Eagles' Nest?"
+
+"A Mr. Fairfax. He is a land-agent and steward, a thoroughly efficient
+man, and he has been appointed steward to the estate. His orders are
+to take care of it, and to renovate it by all possible means that
+money and labour can do. Mr. Atkinson was informed on good authority
+that it had been neglected by Major Raynor."
+
+"That's true," thought Edina.
+
+"The first thing Mr. Atkinson did on his arrival, was to inquire
+whether the estate had been well cared for and kept up since Mrs.
+Atkinson's death. I was not able to say that it had been: I was
+obliged to tell him that the contrary was the fact. He then questioned
+my brother, and other people who were acquainted with the truth. It
+vexed him: and, as I tell you, he is now doing all he can to remedy
+the late neglect."
+
+"I am very much surprised that Mr. Atkinson did not himself go down to
+see into it!" said Edina.
+
+"Long residence in foreign lands often conduces to indolent habits,"
+remarked the banker.
+
+Edina sighed. Was her mission to be a fruitless one? Taking a moment's
+counsel with herself, she resolved to disclose its purport to Edwin
+Street. And she did so: asking him to give Charles Raynor a stool in
+his counting-house, and a salary with it.
+
+But Mr. Street declined. His very manner seemed to freeze at the
+request. A young man, brought up as Mr. Charles Raynor had been, could
+not possibly be of any use in a bank, he observed.
+
+"Suppose Mr. Atkinson were here, and had complied with my request to
+put him in?--what then?" said Edina.
+
+"In that case he would have come in," was the candid answer. "But Mr.
+Atkinson is not here; in his absence I exercise my own discretion; and
+I am bound to tell you that I cannot make room for the young man.
+Don't seek to put Charles Raynor into a bank: he is not fitted for the
+post in any way, and might do harm in it instead of good. Take an
+experienced man's advice for once, Miss Raynor."
+
+"It has spared me the pain of an interview with _him_," thought Edina,
+as she said good-morning to Mr. Street. "But what a strange thing that
+he should go away again without seeing Eagles' Nest!"
+
+
+
+
+
+PART THE THIRD.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+LAUREL COTTAGE.
+
+
+It was a roomy cottage in a small by-road of the environs of
+Kennington, bordering on South Lambeth. Frost and snow lay on the
+ground outside, and bitter blasts in the air: within, sitting round
+the scanty fire in a bare-looking but not very small parlour, were
+Mrs. Raynor, Edina, and the younger children, the two former busily
+employed making brown chenile nets for the hair.
+
+When Edina was out one day searching for some abode for them, this
+dwelling fell under her eye. It was called Laurel Cottage, as the
+white letters on a slate-coloured wooden gate testified: probably
+because a dwarf laurel tree flourished between the palings and the
+window. In the window was a card, setting forth that "lodgings" were
+to be let: and Edina entered. Could the Raynors have gone into the
+country, she would have taken a whole cottage to themselves; but then
+there would have been a difficulty about furniture. It was necessary
+they should remain in London, as Charles still expected to find
+employment there, and they must not be too far from the business parts
+of it, for he would have to walk to and fro night and morning. Laurel
+Cottage possessed a landlady, one Mrs. Fox, and a young boy, her son.
+The rooms to let were four in number; parlour, kitchen, and two
+bedrooms. She asked ten shillings a-week: but that the house was
+shabby and badly furnished, she might have asked more. Edina freely
+said she could afford to give only eight shillings a-week; and at
+length the bargain was struck. Edina's income was just a pound a-week,
+fifty-two pounds a-year; eight shillings out of it for rent was a
+formidable sum. It left only twelve shillings for all necessities: and
+poor, anxious Edina, who had all the care and responsibility on her
+own shoulders, and felt that she had it, did not see the future very
+clearly before her; but at present there was nothing to be done but to
+bow to circumstances. So here they were in Laurel Cottage, with a
+dreary look-out of waste-ground for a view, and a few stunted trees
+overshadowing the gate.
+
+Alice had gone into a school as teacher. It was situated near
+Richmond, in Surrey, and was chiefly for the reception of children
+whose parents were in India. She would have to stay there during the
+holidays: but that was so much the better, as there was no place for
+her at home. Alfred ran on errands, and made a show of saying his
+lessons to his mother between whiles. Mrs. Raynor taught Kate and
+little Robert; Edina did the work, for they were not waited upon;
+Charles spent his time tramping about after a situation. To eke out
+their narrow income, Edina had tried to get some sewing, or other
+work, to do; she had found out a City house that dealt largely in
+ladies' hairnets, and the house agreed to supply her with some to
+make. All their spare time she and Mrs. Raynor devoted to these nets,
+Charles carrying the parcels backwards and forwards. But for those
+nets, they must certainly to a great extent have starved. With the
+nets, they were not much better off.
+
+In some mysterious way, Edina had managed to provide them all with a
+change of clothing, to replace some of that which had been lost in the
+fire. They never knew how she did it. Only Edina herself knew that. A
+few articles of plate that had been her father's; a few ornaments of
+her own: these were turned into money.
+
+The light of the wintry afternoon was fading; the icicles outside were
+growing less visible to the eye. Little Robert, sitting on the floor,
+said at last that he could not see his picture-book. Mrs. Raynor,
+looking young still in her widow's cap, let fall the net on her lap
+for a minute's rest, and looked at the fire through her tears. Over
+and over again did these tears rise unbidden now. Edina, neat and
+nice-looking as ever, in her soft black dress, her brown hair smoothly
+braided on either side her attractive face--attractive in its
+intelligence and goodness--caught sight of the tears from the low
+chair where she sat opposite.
+
+"Take courage, Mary," she gently said. "Things will take a turn some
+time."
+
+Mrs. Raynor caught up her work and suppressed a rising sob. Katie, in
+a grumbling tone, said she was sure it must be tea-time. Edina rose,
+brought in a tray from the small kitchen, which was on the same floor
+as the room they sat in, and began to put out the cups and saucers.
+
+"What a long time Alfred is!" cried the little girl.
+
+Alfred came in almost as he spoke, a can of milk in his hand. By
+sending to a dairy half-a-mile off, Edina had discovered that she
+could get pure milk cheaper than any left by the milkman: so Alfred
+went for it morning and night.
+
+"It is so jolly hard!" exclaimed he, with a glowing face, alluding to
+the ice in the roads. "The slides are beautiful."
+
+"Don't get sliding when you are carrying the milk," advised Edina.
+"Take off your cap and comforter, Alfred."
+
+She was cutting slices of bread for him to toast. Unused to hard fare,
+the children could not eat dry bread with any relish: so, when there
+was neither butter nor dripping, neither treacle nor honey in the
+house, Edina had the bread toasted. Alfred knelt down before the
+fire--the only fire they had--and began to toast. The kettle was
+singing on the hob. Edina turned the milk into a jug.
+
+They were sitting down to the tea-table when Charles came in. A glance
+at his weary and dispirited face told Edina that he had met with no
+more luck to-day than usual. Putting down a brown-paper parcel that he
+carried, containing a fresh supply of material to be made into nets,
+he took his place at the table. How hungry he was, no one but himself
+knew. And how scanty the food was that he could be supplied with!
+
+But for his later experience, Charles could not have believed that it
+was so difficult for a young man to obtain a situation in London.
+Edina, less hopeful than he, would not have believed it. Charles
+Raynor had not been brought up to work of any sort, had never done
+any; and this seemed to be one of the stumbling-blocks in his way.
+Perhaps he looked too much of a gentleman; perhaps his refined manners
+and tones told against him in the eyes of men of business, betraying
+that he might prove unfit for work: at any rate, he had not found any
+one to take him. Another impediment was that no sooner did a situation
+fall vacant, than a large number of applicants made a rush to fill it.
+Only one of them could be engaged: and it never happened to be
+Charles. Charles looked through the _Times_ advertisements every
+morning, through the friendliness of a neighbouring newsvendor. He
+would read of a clerk being wanted in some place or other in the great
+mart of London, and away he would go, to present himself. But he
+invariably found other applicants before him, and as invariably he
+never seemed to have the slightest chance.
+
+The disappointment was beginning to tell upon him. There were times
+when he felt almost maddened. His conscience had been awake these last
+many bitter weeks, and the prolonged strain often seemed more than he
+could bear. Had it been only himself! All, then, as it seemed to
+Charles Raynor, all would have been easy. He could enlist for a
+soldier; he could join the labourers' emigration society and go out
+for a term of years to Australia or Canada; he could turn porter at a
+railway-station. These wild thoughts (though perhaps they could not be
+called so very wild in his present circumstances) continually passed
+through his mind: but he had to put them aside as visionary.
+
+Visionary, because his object was, not to support himself alone, but
+the family. At least to help to support them. Charles Raynor was
+sensitive to a degree; and every mouthful he was obliged to eat seemed
+as though it would choke him, because it lessened the portion of those
+at home. A man cannot quite starve: but it often seemed to Charles
+that he really and truly would prefer to starve, and to bear the
+martyrdom of the process, rather than be a burden upon his mother
+and Edina. Sometimes he came home by way of Frank's and took tea
+there--and Frank, suspecting the truth of matters, took care to add
+some substantial dish to the table. But Charles, in delicacy of
+feeling, would not do this often: the house, in point of fact, was Mr.
+Max Brown's, not Frank's.
+
+How utterly subdued in spirit his mother had become, Charles did not
+like to see and note. She kept about, but there could be no mistaking
+that she was both ill and suffering. Oh, if he could only lift her out
+of this poverty to a home of ease and plenty! he would say to himself,
+a whole world of self-reproach at work within him. If this last year
+or two could be blotted out of time and memory, and they had their
+modest home again near Bath!
+
+No; it might not be. The events that time brings forth must endure in
+the memory for ever; our actions in it must remain in the Book of the
+Recording Angel as facts of the past. The home at Bath had gone;
+Eagles' Nest had gone; the transient weeks of the school-life had
+gone: and here they were, hopeless and without prospect, eating hard
+fare at Laurel Cottage.
+
+They had left off asking him now in an evening how he succeeded during
+the day, and what his luck had been. His answer was ever the same; he
+had had no luck; had done nothing: and it was given with pain so
+evident, that they refrained in very compassion. On this evening
+Charles himself spoke of it; spoke to Edina. The children were in bed.
+Mrs. Raynor had gone, as usual, to hear them say their prayers, and
+had not yet returned.
+
+"I wonder how much longer this is to go on, Edina?"
+
+Edina looked up from her work. "Do you mean your want of success,
+Charley?"
+
+"Could I mean anything else!" he rejoined, his tone utterly subdued.
+"I think of nothing but that, morning, noon, and night."
+
+"It is a long lane that has no turning, Charles. And I don't think
+patience and perseverance often go unrewarded in the long-run. How did
+you fare to-day?"
+
+"Just as usual. Never had a single chance at all. Look, Edina--my
+boots are beginning to wear out."
+
+A rather ominous pause. Charley was stretching out his right foot.
+
+"You have another pair, you know, Charley. These must be mended."
+
+"But I am thinking of the time when neither pair will mend any longer.
+Edina, I wonder whether life is worth living?"
+
+"Charley, we cannot see into the future," spoke Edina, pausing for a
+moment in her work to look at him, a newly begun net in her hand. "If
+we could, we might foresee, even now, how good and necessary this
+discipline is for us. It may be, Charley, that you needed it; that we
+all needed it, more or less. Take it as a cross that has come direct
+from God; bear it as well as you are able; do your best in it and
+trust to Him. Rely upon it that, in His own good time, He will lighten
+it for you. And He will take care of you until it passes away."
+
+Charles took up the poker; recollected himself, and put it down again.
+Fires might not be lavishly stirred now, as they had been at Eagles'
+Nest. Mrs. Raynor had been obliged to make a rule that no one should
+touch the fire excepting herself and Edina.
+
+"It is not for myself I am thus impatient to get employment," resumed
+Charles. "But for the rest of them, I would go off to-morrow and
+enlist. If I could only earn twenty pounds a-year to begin with, it
+would be a help; better than nothing."
+
+Only two or three months ago he had said, If I can only get a hundred
+a-year. Such lessons of humility adversity teaches!
+
+"Twenty pounds a-year would pay the rent," observed Edina. "I never
+thought it could be so hard to get into something. I supposed that
+when young men wanted employment they had only to seek it. It does
+seem wrong does it not, Charley, that an able and willing young fellow
+should not be able to work when he wishes to do so?"
+
+"Enlisting would relieve you of myself: and the thought is often in my
+mind," observed Charles. "On the other hand----"
+
+"On the other hand, you had better not think of it," she interposed
+firmly. "We should not like to see you in the ranks, Charley. A common
+soldier is----"
+
+"Hush, Edina! here comes the mother."
+
+But luck was dawning for Charley. Only a small slice of luck, it is
+true; and what, not so very long ago, he would have scorned.
+Estimating things by his present hopeless condition, it looked fair
+enough.
+
+One bleak morning, a day or two after the above conversation, Charley
+was slowly pacing Fleet Street, wondering where he could go next, what
+do. A situation, advertised in that morning's paper, had brought him
+up, post haste. As usual, it turned out a failure: to be successful,
+the applicant must put down fifty pounds in cash. So that chance was
+gone: and there was Charles, uncertain, and miserable.
+
+"Halloa, Raynor! Is it you?"
+
+A young stripling about his own age had run against him. At the first
+moment Charles did not know him: but recollection flashed on his mind.
+It was Peter Hartley: a lad who had been a schoolfellow of his in
+Somersetshire.
+
+"I am going to get my dinner," said Hartley, after a few sentences had
+passed. "Will you come and take some with me?"
+
+Too thankful for the offer, Charles followed him into the Rainbow. And
+over the viands they grew confidential. Hartley was in a large
+printing and publishing establishment close by: his brother Fred was
+at a solicitor's, almost out of his articles.
+
+"Fred's ill," observed Peter. "He thinks it must be the fogs of this
+precious London that affect him: and I think so too. Any way, he
+coughs frightfully, and has had to give up for a day or two. I went to
+his office this morning to say he was in bed with a plaster on his
+chest; and a fine way they were in at hearing it: wanting him to go,
+whether or not. One of their copying-clerks has left; and they can't
+hear of another all in a hurry."
+
+"I wonder whether I should suit them?" spoke Charles on the spur of
+the moment, a flush rising to his face and a light to his eyes.
+
+"_You!_" cried Peter Hartley.
+
+And then Charles, encouraged perhaps by the good cheer, told a little
+of his history to Hartley, and why he must find a situation of some
+sort that would bring in its returns. Hartley, an open-hearted,
+country-bred lad, became eager to help him, and offered to introduce
+him to the solicitor's firm there and then.
+
+"It is near the Temple: almost close by," said he: "Prestleigh and
+Preen. A good firm: one of the best in London. Let us go at once."
+
+Charles accompanied him to the place. Had he been aware that this same
+legal firm counted Mr. George Atkinson amongst its clients, he might
+have declined to try to enter it. It had once been Callard and
+Prestleigh. But old Mr. Callard had died very soon after Frank held
+the interview with him that has been recorded: and Charles, under the
+new designation of Prestleigh and Preen, did not recognize the old
+firm.
+
+Peter Hartley introduced Charles to the managing-clerk, Mr. Stroud.
+Mr. Stroud, a tall man, wearing silver-rimmed spectacles, with
+iron-grey hair and a crabbed manner, put some questions to Charles,
+and then told him to sit down and wait. Mr. Prestleigh was in his
+private room; but it would not do to trouble him with these matters:
+Mr. Preen was out. Peter Hartley, in his good-nature, said all he
+could in favour of Charles, particularly "that he would be sure to
+do," and then went away.
+
+Charles sat down, and passed an hour gazing at the fire and listening
+to the pens scratching away at the desks. People were constantly
+passing in and out: the green-baize door seemed to be ever on the
+swing. Some brought messages; some were marshalled into Mr.
+Prestleigh's room. By-and-by, a youngish man--he might be thirty-five,
+perhaps--came in, in a warm white overcoat; and, from the attention
+and seriousness suddenly shown by the clerks generally, Charles
+rightly guessed him to be Mr. Preen. He passed through the room
+without speaking, and was followed by the head-clerk.
+
+A few minutes more, and Charles was sent for to Mr. Preen's room. That
+gentleman--who had a great profusion of light curling hair and a
+pleasant face and manner--was alone, standing with his back to the
+fire near his table. He asked Charles very much the same questions
+that Mr. Stroud had asked, and particularly what his recent occupation
+had been. Charles told the truth: he had not been brought up to any
+occupation, but an unfortunate reverse of family circumstances was
+obliging him to seek one.
+
+"You have not been in a solicitor's office, then! Not been accustomed
+to copying deeds?" cried Mr. Preen.
+
+Charles confessed he had not. But he took courage to say he had no
+doubt he could do any copying required of him, and to beg that he
+might be tried.
+
+"Is your handwriting a neat one?"
+
+"Yes, it is," said Charles, eagerly, for he was speaking the truth.
+"Neat and good, and very plain."
+
+"You think you could copy quickly and correctly?"
+
+"I am sure I could, sir. I _hope_ you will try me," he added, a
+curious entreaty in his tone, that perhaps he was himself unconscious
+of; but which was nevertheless apparent to Mr. Preen. "I have been
+seeking something so long, day after day, week after week, that I have
+almost lost heart."
+
+Perhaps that last avowal was not the best aid to Charles's success; or
+would not have been with most men of business. With Mr. Preen, who was
+very good-natured, it told rather for than against him. The lawyer
+mused. They wanted a copying-clerk very badly indeed; being two hands
+short, including Fred Hartley, and extremely busy: but the question
+was, could this young man accomplish the work? A thought struck him.
+
+"Suppose you were to stay now and copy a few pages this afternoon?"
+suggested Mr. Preen. "You see, if you cannot do the work, it would be
+useless your attempting it: but if you can, we will engage you."
+
+"I shall only be too happy to stay, sir."
+
+"Very well," said Mr. Preen, ringing his bell for the managing-clerk.
+"And you shall then have an answer."
+
+Charles was put to work by Mr. Stroud: who came and looked at him
+three or four times whilst he was doing the copying. He wrote slowly:
+the result of his extra care, his intensely earnest wish to succeed:
+but his writing was good and clear.
+
+"I shall write quickly enough in a day or two, when I am used to it,"
+he said, looking up: and there was hope in his face as well as his
+tone.
+
+Mr. Preen chanced to be standing by. The writing would do, he decided;
+and Mr. Stroud was told to engage him. To begin with, his salary was
+to be fifteen shillings a-week: in a short time--as soon, indeed, as
+his suiting them was assured--it would be raised to eighteen. He was
+to enter on the morrow.
+
+"Where do you live?" curtly questioned Mr. Stroud.
+
+"Just beyond Kennington."
+
+"Take care that you are punctual. Nine o'clock is the hour for the
+copying-clerks. You are expected to be at work by that time, therefore
+you must get here before the clock strikes."
+
+A very easy condition, as it seemed to Charles Raynor, in his elation.
+A copying-clerk in a lawyer's office at fifteen or eighteen shillings
+a-week! Had any one told him a year ago that he would be capable of
+accepting so degrading a post--as he would then have deemed it--he had
+surely said the world must first turn itself upside down. _Now_ he
+went home with a joyous step and a light heart, hardly knowing whether
+he trod on his head or his heels.
+
+And at Laurel Cottage they held quite a jubilee. Fifteen shillings
+a-week added to the narrow income of twenty, seemed at the moment to
+look very like riches. Charles had formed all sorts of mental
+resolutions as he walked home: to manage his clothes carefully lest
+they should grow shabby; scarcely to tread on his boots that they
+might not wear out: and to make his daily dinner of bread-and-cheese,
+carried in his pocket from home. Ah, these resolves are good, and more
+than good; and generous, wholesome-hearted young fellows are proud to
+make them in the time of need. But in their inexperience they cannot
+foresee the long, wearing, depressing struggle that the years must
+entail, during which the efforts and the privation must be persevered
+in. And it is well they cannot.
+
+It wanted a quarter to nine in the morning, when Charles entered the
+office, warm with the speed at which he had walked. He did all that he
+was put to do, and did it correctly. If Mr. Stroud did not praise, he
+did not grumble.
+
+When told at one o'clock that he might go to dinner, Charles made his
+way to the more sheltered parts in the precincts of the Temple, and
+surreptitiously ate the bread-and-cheese that he had brought from home
+in his pocket. That was eaten long and long before the time had
+expired when he would be expected to go in again: but he did not like
+to appear earlier, lest some discerning clerk should decide he had not
+been to dinner at all. It was frightfully dull and dreary here, the
+bitterly cold wind whistling down the passages and round the corners;
+so he turned into the open streets: they, at least, were lively with
+busy traversers: and walked about the Strand.
+
+"I must go and see Peter Hartley, to tell him of my success and thank
+him; for it is to him I owe it," thought Charles, as he left the
+office in the evening. "Let me see! The address was somewhere near
+Mecklenburgh Square."
+
+Taking out a small note-case, in which the address was entered, he
+halted at a street corner whilst he turned its leaves: some one came
+round the corner hastily, and Charles found himself in contact with
+William Stane. The gas in the streets and shops made it as light as
+day: no chance had they to pretend not to see each other. A bow,
+coldly exchanged, and each passed on his way.
+
+"I won't notice him at all, if we meet again," said Charles to
+himself. And it might have been that Mr. Stane was saying the same
+thing. "Now for Doughty Street. I wonder which is the way to it?"
+deliberated he.
+
+"Does Mr. Hartley live here?" inquired Charles of the young
+maid-servant, when he had found the house.
+
+"In the parlour," replied the girl, pointing to a room on her left.
+
+Without further ceremony, she went away, leaving him to introduce
+himself. A voice, that he supposed was Peter's, bade him "come in," in
+answer to his knock.
+
+But he could not see Peter. A young fellow was stretched on the sofa
+in front of the fire. Charles rightly judged him to be the brother,
+Frederick Hartley. Young men are not, as a rule, very observant of one
+another, but Charles was struck with the appearance of the one before
+him. He was extremely good-looking; with fair hair, all in disorder,
+that shone like threads of gold in the firelight, glistening blue
+eyes, and a hectic flush on his thin cheeks.
+
+"I beg your pardon," said Charley, as the invalid--for such he
+evidently was--half rose and gazed at him. "I came to see Peter."
+
+"Oh yes; sit down," was the answer, given in cordial but very weak
+tones. "I expect him in every minute."
+
+"You are Fred," observed Charles. "I dare say he told you about
+meeting me on Tuesday:  Charles Raynor."
+
+"Yes, he did. Do sit down. You don't mind my lying here?"
+
+"Is it a cold you have taken?" asked Charles, bringing a chair to the
+corner of the hearth.
+
+"I suppose so. A fresh cold. You might have heard me breathing
+yesterday over the way. The doctor kept me in bed. He wanted to keep
+me there to-day also; but to have to lie in that back-room is so
+wretchedly dull. Poke up the fire, will you, please, and make a
+blaze."
+
+With every word he spoke, his breath seemed laboured. His voice was
+hollow. Now he had a fit of coughing; and the cough sounded as hollow
+as the voice had done.
+
+Peter came in, welcomed Charles boisterously, and rang for tea. That,
+you may be sure, was acceptable to poor Charles. Fred, saying he was
+glad Charles had obtained the place at Prestleigh's, plunged into a
+few revelations touching the office politics, as well as his frequent
+cough and his imperfect breathing allowed, with a view of putting him
+au courant of affairs in general in his new position.
+
+"I shall make things pleasant for you, after I get back," said he. "We
+articled fellows hold ourselves somewhat aloof from the working
+clerks; but I shall let them know who you are, and that it is only a
+temporary move on your part."
+
+Fred Hartley, warm-hearted as his brother, said this when Charles was
+bidding him good-evening. That last look, taken when the invalid's
+face was raised, and the lamp shone full upon it, impressed Charles
+more than all. Peter went with him to the door.
+
+"What does the doctor say about your brother?" asked Charles, as they
+stood on the pavement, in the cold.
+
+"Says he must take care of himself."
+
+"Don't you think he looks very ill?"
+
+"I don't know," replied Peter, who had been in the habit of seeing his
+brother daily; and therefore had not been particularly impressed by
+his looks. "Does he?"
+
+"Well, it strikes me so. I should say he is ill. Why don't you send
+for his mother to come up?"
+
+"So I would, if we had a mother to send for," returned Peter. "Our
+mother died two years ago; and--and my father has married again. We
+have no longer any place in the old Somersetshire homestead, Raynor.
+Fred and I stand alone in the world."
+
+"And without means?" cried Charles, quickly; who had lately begun to
+refer every evil the world contained to the want of money.
+
+"Oh, he allows us something. Just enough to keep us going until we
+have started on our own account. I get a hundred a-year from the place
+I'm at. Fred gains nothing yet. He is not out of his articles."
+
+"Well, I'll come and see him again soon," cried Charley, vaulting off.
+"Good-night, Peter."
+
+Was Fred indeed seriously ill? Was it going to be one of those cases,
+of which there are too many in London: of a poor young fellow, just
+entering on the hopeful threshold of life, dying away from friends,
+and home, and care? Whether caused by Charles's tone or Charles's
+words, the shadowy thought, that it might be so, entered for the first
+time into the mind of Peter.
+
+And Charles never had "things made pleasant for him," at the office,
+in pursuance of the friendly wish just expressed: the opportunity was
+never afforded. Exactly twenty days from that evening, he was invited
+to attend the funeral of Frederick Hartley. And could not do so, for
+want of suitable clothes to wear.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+JEALOUSY.
+
+
+The room was smartened up for the occasion. At least, as much as a
+room furnished with cane-seated chairs, a threadbare carpet not half
+covering the boards, and a stained green-baize table-cover, can be
+smartened. It was Mrs. Raynor's birthday. Frank Raynor and his wife
+had come down to wish her many happy returns of it and to take tea
+with her; Alice had been invited; Charles had said he would be home
+early. But tea was over, and neither Charles nor Alice had put in an
+appearance; and the little fête, without them, had seemed a failure to
+their mother.
+
+Mrs. Raynor was altered: worn, spiritless, always ailing, in the past
+year she had aged much. Disappointment and straitened circumstances
+told on her health as well as on her mind. It was not for herself she
+grieved and suffered, but for her children. For Charles especially.
+His prospects had been blighted; his standing in the world utterly
+changed. Edina's hands were full, for Mrs. Raynor could help very
+little now. What Mrs. Raynor chiefly did was to gather the young ones
+around her, and talk to them, in her gentle voice, of resignation to
+God's will, of patience, of that better world that they were
+travelling on to; where there will be neither sickness nor sorrow,
+neither mortification nor suffering. The children needed such lessons.
+It seemed very hard to them that they should sometimes have nothing
+but dry bread for dinner, or baked potatoes without meat. Even with
+all Edina's economy and with Charles's earnings, meat could not always
+be afforded. The joint must be carved sparingly, and made to last the
+best part of the week. They generally had a joint on a Sunday, and
+that was as much as could be said. Clothes cost so much: and Charles,
+at least, had to be tolerably well-dressed. But there are many items
+in a household's expenses besides eating and drinking; and this
+especially applies to fallen gentlepeople, whose habits have been
+formed, and who must still in a degree keep up appearances.
+
+If the Raynors had needed discipline, as some who knew them at Eagles'
+Nest had declared, they were certainly experiencing it in a very
+marked degree. Twelve months had slipped by since they took up their
+abode at Laurel Cottage, and there had been no change. The days and
+the weeks had drifted on, one day, one week after another, in the same
+routine of thrift, struggle and privation. Charles was at Prestleigh
+and Preen's, working to that firm's satisfaction, and bringing home a
+sovereign a-week: Alice was teaching still in the school at Richmond.
+Alfred went to a day-school now. Edina had sought an interview with
+its principal, and by dint of some magic of her own, when she told him
+confidentially of their misfortunes, had persuaded him to admit the
+lad at an almost nominal charge. It was altogether a weary life for
+them, no doubt; one requiring constant patience and resignation; but,
+as Edina would cheerfully tell them, it might have been worse, and
+they had many things to be thankful for even yet.
+
+October was passing, and the falling leaves strewed the ground. The
+afternoon was not sunny, but warm and dull; so sultry, in fact, as to
+suggest the idea of tempest in the air. They had gathered in the
+square patch of ground at the back of the house, called by courtesy a
+garden: Frank, his wife, Edina, Mrs. Raynor, and the children. Some of
+them stood about, looking at the bed of herbs Edina's care had
+planted; Mrs. Raynor was sitting on the narrow bench under the high
+window. For this garden had to be descended into by several steps; and
+as you stood in it the back-parlour window (Mrs. Raynor's bedroom)
+looked perched quite a long way up.
+
+"Herbs are so useful," remarked Edina, as they praised the bed. "When
+a stew is nothing in itself, thyme or mint will give it quite a fine
+flavour. Do you remember, Frank, how poor papa liked thyme in the
+Irish stews?"
+
+"And very good they used to be," said Frank. "Eve calls them ragoûts.
+I often tell her they are not half as good as those I had at Trennach.
+Remember, Daisy, it is thyme Eve's ragoûts want."
+
+Daisy, playing with little Robert, turned round with dancing eyes. She
+was as pretty as ever, in spite of the distasteful existence in
+Lambeth. And she had put on for this occasion one of her old grand
+silks.
+
+"I'll try and remember, Frank," she laughed. "I hope I shall not say
+rue instead of thyme. What did you plant this great bush of rue for,
+Edina?"
+
+"That bush is not mine but the landlady's; it was here when we came,"
+replied Edina. "Mrs. Fox hangs some of it at the foot of her bed, and
+declares that it mysteriously keeps away gnats and moths."
+
+When Mr. Max Brown departed for the West Indies, he had thought the
+very utmost extent of his term of absence would be less than six
+months. But considerably more than twice six months had elapsed, and
+he had not returned. Apparently he liked the life there; apparently
+was quite satisfied with Frank's management of his practice at home.
+In writing to Frank, he put the delay down to his mother. She was
+dying, but very slowly: that is, her complaint was one for which there
+is no remedy: and she wanted to keep him with her to the end. Thus Max
+wrote, and it was the only excuse he gave for his prolonged stay.
+Frank could not help thinking there was some mystery about it; but he
+was quite content to remain at his post. It was very seldom indeed
+that he could take an hour or two's recreation, such as this. The
+practice was exacting, and he had no assistant.
+
+"That's the postman's knock!" cried Kate.
+
+The postman was not a frequent visitor at Laurel Cottage. When he did
+bring a letter it was always for the Raynors: Mrs. Fox never had one
+at all, and never seemed to expect one. Kate ran to the door and
+brought back the letter. It proved to be from Alice: stating why she
+was not able to come.
+
+"Daisy, my darling, you must put your bonnet on," whispered Frank. "I
+want to get home before dark: I have been away now longer than I care
+to be."
+
+"I should send the practice to York for one evening," cried Alfred,
+who chanced to overhear the words.
+
+"No doubt you would," laughed Frank.
+
+"Well, Frank, I'm sure you seem to put that precious practice before
+everything else. One would think it was an idol, with a golden body
+and diamond wings."
+
+"And so I ought to put it before everything else, Master Alfred. A
+steward must do his duty."
+
+Daisy went in unnoticed. She felt tired, wanted to be at home herself,
+and began arranging her bonnet before the glass at the window of the
+crowded back-room. Two beds were in the chamber, besides other
+furniture. In one of them slept Mrs. Raynor and Kate, in the smaller
+one, Edina. What a change it all was for them! Suddenly, while Daisy's
+attention was still given to her bonnet, certain words, spoken by
+Edina, broke upon her ear. She and Frank had sat down on the bench
+under the window, and were talking of Trennach. Mrs. Raynor and the
+children were at the end of the garden, bending their heads together
+over the untidy path, as if trying to determine what sort of coarse
+gravel it might be composed of.
+
+"Do you ever hear anything of Mrs. Bell, Frank?"
+
+"I saw her to-day," was Frank's unexpected answer. "Saw her yesterday
+as well."
+
+"Where did you see her? Is she in London?" quickly repeated Edina.
+
+"They have come to live in London. She and Rosaline."
+
+"What has made them do that?" continued Edina quite sharply, as if she
+did not altogether approve of the information. Daisy's fingers, tying
+her bonnet-strings, could not have dropped more suddenly, had they
+been seized with paralysis.
+
+"I'm sure I don't know. They have come into money, through the death
+of some relative at Falmouth, and thought, I believe, that they would
+like to live in London. Poor Mrs. Bell is worse than she used to be:
+the complaint, feared for her, is making progress--and must do so
+until the end. I am attending her."
+
+"They live near you, then?"
+
+"Close by."
+
+A short silence ensued. Edina was probably busy with her thoughts. She
+spoke again.
+
+"Is Rosaline as pretty as ever?"
+
+"Not quite so pretty, perhaps: more beautiful."
+
+"Ah, well--I would not go there too much, Frank; illness, or no
+illness," cried Edina.
+
+She spoke in a dreamy tone, as if her reflections were back in the
+past. In her heart she believed he must have cared more or less for
+Rosaline. Frank laughed slightly in answer: a laugh that was somewhat
+constrained. His thoughts also had gone back; back to that fatal night
+at Trennach.
+
+A sudden shout in Alfred's voice from the group in the garden. "Here
+it is! here it is, mamma!" Mrs. Raynor's thin gold ring had slipped
+off her slender finger, and they had been searching for it in the
+twilight.
+
+Daisy seemed to see and hear no more until some of them came running
+into the bedroom, saying that Frank was waiting for her. She went out,
+said good-night in a mechanical sort of manner, and they started
+homewards, arm-in-arm. The old jealousy she had once felt of Rosaline
+Bell had sprung up again with tenfold force.
+
+A short distance from the cottage, they met Charles. He was walking
+along at full speed, and greeted them in a storm of anger.
+
+"It was an awful shame! Just because I wanted to get home an hour
+earlier than usual, it is an hour later. The office is full of work,
+and some of us had to stay behind and do it."
+
+"Never mind, Charley," said Frank, with his genial smile. "Better luck
+next time."
+
+"Yes, it's all very well to say next time; that will be next year, I
+suppose. You hardly ever come to see us, you know, Frank."
+
+"I come when I can. You must come to us instead. Spend next Sunday
+with us, Charley. I can't stay talking now."
+
+"All right," said Charley, vaulting off. "Good-night to you both." And
+neither of them had noticed that Daisy had not spoken a word.
+
+Daisy was tormenting herself in a most unnecessary manner. Rosaline
+Bell in London! Living near to them; _close_ to them, he had said. He
+had seen her to-day, and yesterday as well: no doubt he saw her every
+day. No doubt he loved this Rosaline!--and had thrown off all
+affection for herself, his wife. Even Edina could see the state of
+affairs. What a frightful thing it was!--and how far had it gone?--and
+what would it end in?
+
+After this, the ordinary fashion of a jealous woman, did Mrs. Frank
+Raynor reason; believing her fancies to be all true as gospel. Had
+some angelic messenger essayed to set her right, it would have availed
+nothing in her present frame of mind. Jealousy is as much a disease as
+intermittent fever: it may have its lighter intervals, but it must run
+its course.
+
+"Daisy, I think we shall have a storm!" cried Frank. "How still and
+hot the air is!--and look at that great black cloud coming up! We must
+hasten as much as possible."
+
+Daisy silently acquiesced. And the pace they went prevented much
+attempt at talking. So that he had no opportunity of noticing that she
+had suddenly become strangely silent.
+
+The storm burst forth when they were within a few doors of their own
+home. Lightning, thunder, a heavy downpour of rain. As they turned
+into the surgery, where Sam stood under the gas-light, his arms on the
+counter, his heels kicking about underneath it, Frank caught up a note
+that was lying there, addressed to him.
+
+"Who brought this note?" asked Frank as he read it.
+
+"It was a young lady," replied Sam. "When I told her you were not at
+home, she asked me for a sheet o' paper and pen-and-ink, and wrote
+that, and said it was to be gave you as soon as you came in. And
+please, sir, they have been round twice from Tripp's to say the baby's
+worse."
+
+Frank Raynor went out again at once, in spite of the storm. His wife,
+who had heard what passed, turned into the parlour, her brain at work.
+
+"I wonder how long this has been going on!--how long she has been
+coming here?" debated Mrs. Frank, her fingers twitching with
+agitation, her head hot and throbbing. "_She_ wrote that
+note--barefaced thing! When she found she could not see him, she wrote
+it, and left it for him: and he has gone out to see her!"
+
+Jealousy in its way is as exciting as wine; acting very much in the
+same manner on any patient who is under its influence. Mrs. Frank's
+blood was surging in her veins; her thoughts were taking a wild turn;
+her trembling fingers could hardly throw off her bonnet. In point of
+fact, the note concerned a worthy tradesman, who feared he was
+sickening for some complaint, and "the young lady," his daughter, had
+written it, in preference to leaving a message, begging for Mr.
+Raynor's speedy attendance.
+
+"Have you had your supper, Sam?" asked Mrs. Frank, appearing at the
+intervening door.
+
+"No, ma'am."
+
+"Then go and get it."
+
+Sam passed her on his way to the kitchen. She stepped forward to the
+counter, opened the day-book, and began searching for Dame Bell's
+address. The front-door was usually kept closed now, not open as
+formerly; and Daisy went to it on tiptoe, and slipped the bolt. There
+was no one to hear her had she stepped ever so heavily; but we are all
+apt to think that secret transactions require silent movements. Taking
+up her place behind the counter, she turned the leaves of the book
+again. The windows were closed in with shutters; she was quite in
+privacy. But, turn and look as she would, she could not see the
+address sought for. It is true she was looking in a desperate hurry,
+for what if Frank were to return suddenly? Or Sam from his supper?
+
+"No, the address is not there!"--shutting the book, and pushing back
+the pretty hair from her beating temples. "He is too cautious to have
+entered it. Other patients' names are there, but Dame Bell's is not.
+The affair is clandestine from beginning to end."
+
+And from that night Mrs. Frank Raynor began a course of action
+that she would previously have believed herself incapable of. She
+watched her husband. In her eagerness to discover where these Bells
+lived--though what service the knowledge could render her she would
+have been at a loss to declare--she occasionally followed him. Keeping
+her bonnet downstairs in readiness, she would put it on hastily when
+he went out, and steal after him. Three or four times a-week she did
+this. Very contemptible indeed Daisy felt it to be, and her cheeks
+blazed consciously now and again: but jealousy has driven a woman to
+do more contemptible things than even this. But for the unsuitability
+of her present life, as contrasted with her previous tastes and habits
+and surroundings, and for its utter monotony, causing her to feel
+weary unto death day after day, Margaret Raynor might never so far
+have forgotten herself. The pursuit was quite exciting, bringing a
+sort of relief to her; and she resolutely put away from her all
+inconvenient qualms of conscience.
+
+So, imagine that you behold them. Frank turning out at the
+surgery-door, and hastening this way or that way, as if his feet were
+aided by wings: and when he is a few yards off, Daisy turns out after
+him. It would generally be a tedious and tormenting chase. He seemed
+to have so many patients to visit, here, there, and everywhere; on
+this side the street and on that side, and round the corners, and down
+courts, that his pursuer was generally baffled, lost him for good, and
+had to return home in despair.
+
+Meanwhile, as time went on, Frank, unconscious of all this, was
+destined to receive a shock himself. One evening, when he had been
+called out to a case of emergency near home, upon quitting the sick
+man's house, he entered a chemist's for the purpose of directing some
+article, which it was not in his province to supply, to be sent to the
+sufferer. Dashing into the shop hurriedly, for his time was not his
+own, he was beginning to give his order.
+
+"Will you send----"
+
+And there his speech failed him. He stopped as suddenly and completely
+as though his tongue had been paralyzed. The young man to whom he was
+addressing himself, with the attentive red-brown eyes in which gleamed
+a smile of intelligence, and the clean white apron tied round his
+waist, was Blase Pellet. They looked at one another in the full glare
+of the gas-light.
+
+Blase was the first to speak. "How do you do, Mr. Raynor?"
+
+"Is it _you?_" cried Frank, recovering himself somewhat. "Are you
+living here?"
+
+"Since a week past," replied Blase.
+
+"Why have you left Trennach?"
+
+"I came up to better myself," said Blase demurely. "One hears great
+things of fortunes being made in London."
+
+"And of being lost, Pellet," rejoined Frank.
+
+"I can go back at any time," observed Blase. "Old Float would be only
+too glad to have me. The young fellow he has now in my place is not
+_me_, Float writes word. Float will have to attend to business a
+little more himself now, and I expect it will not suit him."
+
+Vouchsafing no answer to this, Frank left the order he had gone in to
+give, and passed out of the shop, his mind in a very disagreeable
+state of ferment.
+
+"He has come up here to spy upon me; he is watching my movements,"
+said Frank to himself. "How did he know I was here--in this part of
+London?--how did he find it out?" A positive conviction, that it was
+utterly useless to try to evade Blase Pellet, had taken sudden
+possession of him; that he had been tracking him all along by the
+means of spies and emissaries, and had now come to do it in person. He
+felt that if he were to sail away over the seas and set up his tent in
+an African desert, or on the shores of some remote fastness of the
+Indian Empire, or amidst the unexplored wilds of a prairie, he should
+see Blase Pellet in another tent, side by side with him, the next
+morning.
+
+For the moment, his several pressing engagements had gone out of his
+head. His patients, lying in expectation of him, might lie: self was
+all in all. The uneasiness that had taken hold of him amounted to
+tribulation.
+
+"I wonder what Dame Bell knows of this?" it suddenly occurred to him
+to think. And no sooner did it occur than, acting on the moment's
+impulse, he determined to ask her, and walked towards her lodging at
+his usual quick rate. She had taken rooms in a quiet street, West
+Street, where the small houses were chiefly private. It was nearly a
+week since Frank had seen her, for her complaint was very fluctuating,
+and latterly she had felt better, not requiring regular attendance.
+
+Opening the front-door without knocking, as was his custom, he went
+upstairs to the small sitting-room: this room and the bedchamber
+behind it comprising Mrs. Bell's apartments. She had come into a
+little money by the death of her sister at Falmouth, John Pellet's
+wife: and this, combined with her previous small income, enabled her
+to live quietly. When Mrs. Pellet died, it had been suggested that
+Rosaline should take to her millinery business, and carry it on: but
+Rosaline positively declined to do so. Neither Rosaline nor her mother
+liked Falmouth, and they resolved to go up to London. Chance alone--or
+at least, that apparently unconscious impulse that is called
+chance--had caused them to choose this particular part of London for
+their abode; and neither of them had the slightest idea that it was
+within a stone's-throw of Frank Raynor. On the third day after
+settling in it, Rosaline and Frank had met in Mark Street: and he then
+learnt the news of their recent movements.
+
+Mrs. Bell was at her old employment this evening when Frank
+entered--knitting. Lifting her eyes to see who had come in, she took
+the opportunity to snuff the candle near her, and gazed at Frank over
+her spectacles.
+
+"Hey-day!" she cried. "I thought it was Rosaline." This was the first
+time Frank had seen her alone. During all his previous visits Rosaline
+had been present. Rosaline had gone a long way that afternoon, Dame
+Bell proceeded to explain, as far as Oxford Street, and was not back
+again yet. The girl seemed to have some crotchet in her head, she
+added, and would not say what she went for. Frank was glad of her
+absence, crotchet or no crotchet: he felt an invincible distaste to
+naming the name of Blase Pellet in her hearing.
+
+Seen Blase Pellet to-night!--what had Blase Pellet come to town for?
+repeated Dame Bell, in answer to Frank's introduction of the subject.
+"Well, sir," she added, "he tells us he was grown sick and tired of
+Trennach, and came up here to be near me and Rose. I'm sure you might
+have knocked me down with a feather, so surprised was I when he walked
+into this room last Sunday afternoon. I had dozed off in my chair
+here, and Rose was reading the Bible to herself, when he came in. For
+a minute or two I did not believe my eyes, and that's the truth. As to
+Rose, she turned the colour of chalk, just as if he had frightened
+her."
+
+"Did he know you were living here?"
+
+"Of course he knew that, Mr. Frank. Blase, I must say, has always been
+as dutiful to me as if he had been really my nephew, and he often
+wrote to us at Falmouth. One of his letters was sent after us from
+Falmouth, and I wrote to tell him where we were in return."
+
+"Did you tell him _I_ was here?" questioned Frank.
+
+"Well no, I did not: but it is curious you should ask the question,
+Mr. Frank," cried the dame. "I was just going to add to my letter that
+I hoped I should get better now Mr. Raynor was attending me again, but
+Rosaline stopped me. Mr. Raynor was nothing to Blase, she said: better
+not name him at all. Upon that, I asked her why she did not write
+herself, if she thought she could word the letter better than me: but
+she never will write to him. However, you were not mentioned, sir."
+
+"What is his object in coming to London?" repeated Frank, unable to
+dismiss the one important point from his mind.
+
+"I shouldn't wonder but it's Rosaline," said Dame Bell, shrewdly.
+"Blase has wanted to make up to her this many a day; but----"
+
+"What an idiot the man must be!" struck in Frank.
+
+"But she will not have anything to say to him, I was going to add,"
+concluded Dame Bell. "Why should you call him an idiot, Mr. Frank?"
+
+"He must be one, if he thinks he can persuade Rosaline to like him.
+See how ugly he is!"
+
+"She might do worse, sir. I don't say Blase is handsome: he is not:
+but he is steady. If men and women were all chosen by their looks, Mr.
+Frank, a good many would go unmarried. Blase Pellet is putting by
+money: he will be setting up for himself, some day; and he would make
+her a good husband."
+
+"Do you tell your daughter that he would?" asked Frank.
+
+"She won't let me tell her, sir. I say to her sometimes that she seems
+frightened at hearing the young man's very name mentioned: just as
+though it would bring some evil upon her. I know what I think."
+
+"What?" asked Frank.
+
+"Why, that Rosaline pressed this settling in London upon me, on
+purpose to put a wider distance between herself and Blase. Falmouth
+was within reach, and he now and then came over there. I did not
+suspect her of this till last Sunday, Mr. Frank. When tea was over,
+and Blase had gone, she just sat with her hands before her, looking
+more dead than alive. 'After all, it seems we had better have stayed
+at Falmouth,' said she suddenly, as if speaking to herself: and that
+gave me the idea that she had come here to be farther away from him."
+
+Frank made no remark.
+
+"Blase has found a place at a druggist's close by," continued Mrs.
+Bell: whose chatter, once in full flow, was not easily stopped. "I
+don't suppose he'll like London as well as Trennach, and so I told
+him. _I_ don't. Great noisy bustling place!"
+
+It seemed that there was nothing more to ask or learn, and Frank
+bethought himself of his patients. Wishing the old dame good-night, he
+departed. His first visit led him past the druggist's; and his glance,
+as though fascinated, turned to the window. There, amidst the sheen of
+red and green and blue reflected from the brilliant globes, he saw the
+face of Blase Pellet; just as he had been wont to see it amidst the
+glow of the same varied colours at Trennach.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+CROPPING UP AGAIN.
+
+
+"Why, Daisy. Out marketing, my dear?"
+
+The salutation to Mrs. Frank Raynor came from her husband. One
+winter's morning, regardless of the extreme cold and the frost that
+made the streets partly deserted, she followed her husband when he
+went out after breakfast. The dwelling-place of Mrs. Bell and her
+daughter in West Street had become known to her long ago; and Daisy
+was always longing to see whether her husband's footsteps took him to
+it.
+
+That most unreasoning jealousy, which had seized upon her mind,
+increased in force. It was growing almost into a disease. She felt as
+sure as if she had seen it written in letters of divination, that her
+husband's love had been, was, and ever would be Rosaline Bell's: that
+it never had been hers: and over and over again she asked herself the
+question--why had he married her?
+
+It all appeared so plain to Daisy. Looking back, she could, as she
+fully believed, trace out the past, in regard to it, bit by bit. First
+of all, there was the girl's unusual and dangerous beauty; Frank
+Raynor's attendance at the house on the Bare Plain, under the plea of
+visiting the mother professionally; and the intimacy that was reported
+to have existed between himself and Rosaline. A great deal more
+frequently than was wise or necessary, Daisy recalled the evening when
+Frank had been dining at The Mount, and the conversation had turned
+upon the mysterious disappearance of Bell, the miner, and the beauty
+of his daughter. Frank's signs of agitation--his emotional voice, his
+flushings from red to white--Daisy had then been entirely unable to
+comprehend: she had considered them as unaccountable as was the
+absence of the man of whom they were speaking. Now the reason was very
+apparent to her: the emotion had arisen from his love of Rosaline. She
+remembered, as though it had been yesterday, the tales brought home by
+Tabitha, and repeated to herself--that this beautiful daughter of Bell
+the miner was Frank Raynor's best and only love, and that the girl
+worshipped the very ground he trod on. It was too late then to be
+influenced by the information, for the secret marriage had taken place
+in the church at Trennach. Daisy had hardly known whether to believe
+the story or not; but it had shaken her. Later, as time went on, and
+she and her husband moved far away from the scene of events, and
+Rosaline Bell seemed to have faded out of sight; almost, so far as
+they were concerned, out of existence; Daisy had suffered herself to
+forget the doubt and jealousy. But only to call it up with tenfold
+force now.
+
+And so, Mrs. Frank Raynor had amused herself, if the word may be
+applied to a state of mind so painful as was hers, with the pastime of
+watching her husband. Not often of course; only now and then. Her
+steps, as of their own uncontrollable will, would take her to the
+quiet street in which Dame Bell lived, and she had on one or two rare
+occasions been rewarded by seeing him pass in or out of the house. Of
+course she could not watch very often. She dared not do so. She would
+have been ashamed to do so. As it was, she knew that Sam's eyes had
+taken to opening with wonder whenever she followed her husband through
+the surgery, and that the boy's curiosity was much exercised as to the
+cause. Therefore, as she was unable to make Frank's shadow frequently,
+and as, with all her expectation, she had been gratified so rarely by
+seeing what she looked for, she drew the conclusion that fortune did
+not favour her, and that Frank's times for going to the house were
+just those when she did not happen to be out herself. An ingenious
+inference: as all sensible people must allow, but one that jealousy
+would be certain to invent.
+
+On one of those rare occasions, Frank came out of the house
+accompanied by Rosaline.
+
+They turned the opposite way to where Daisy was standing, but not
+before she had caught a glimpse of the beautiful face. Where were they
+going together? she passionately asked herself. The probability was
+that their coming out together was only incidental; for in a very few
+minutes Daisy met the girl coming back alone, carrying a paper of
+rusks, which she had no doubt been out to buy. All the more necessary
+was it, thought Daisy, after this little incident, that she should
+continue to look after her husband.
+
+Daisy was becoming quite an adept at the work, and might have taken
+service as a lady detective. Of course the chief care to be exercised
+was to keep herself out of her husband's view. It was not so difficult
+to do this as it would have been with some husbands; for Frank's time
+was always so precious, and his movements were in consequence obliged
+to be so rapid, that he went flying through the streets like a
+lamplighter, never looking to the right or left. More than once,
+though, Daisy had been obliged to dart into a doorway; and it was at
+those times that she especially felt the humiliation of what she was
+doing.
+
+But, the pitcher that goes too often to the well gets broken at last,
+we are told. On this bitter January day, when of a surety no one would
+venture out who could keep in, Daisy came face to face with her
+husband. She had seen him enter Mrs. Bell's house; fortune for once
+had so far favoured her. She saw him make for the quiet street upon
+first leaving home, skim down it with long strides, and go straight in
+at the door. Her heart beat as though it would burst its bounds; her
+pulses coursed on with fever-heat. Nothing in the world can be so good
+for the doctors as jealousy: it must inevitably tend to bring on heart
+disease. "I wonder how long he will stay?" thought Daisy in her raging
+anger. "Half-an-hour, perhaps. Of course he does not hurry himself
+when he goes _there_."
+
+Sauntering onwards with slow steps, some idea in her head of waiting
+to see how long he did stay, and believing herself perfectly safe for
+many minutes to come, went Daisy. She longed to cross over the street
+and so obtain a sight of the upstairs window. But she did not dare; he
+might chance to look out and see her. She knew all about the position
+of the Bells' rooms, having, in a careless, off-hand manner,
+questioned Sam, who took out Mrs. Bell's medicine. In front of the
+closed door, her face turned towards it, was Daisy, when--she found
+herself confronted with her husband. He had come quickly forth,
+without warning, not having remained two minutes.
+
+"Why, Daisy! Out marketing, my dear?"
+
+The question was put laughingly. Daisy never did any marketing: she
+was not much of a housekeeper as yet, and the Lambeth shops did not
+tempt her to begin. Eve did all that. Had she been committing a crime,
+she could not have felt more taken aback in her surprise, or more
+awkward at finding an excuse.
+
+"I--had a headache," she stammered, "and--came out for a little walk."
+
+"But it is too cold for you, Daisy. The wind is in the north-east. I
+have never felt it keener."
+
+"It won't hurt me," gasped Daisy, believing his solicitude for her was
+all put on. She had believed that for some time now. The kinder Frank
+showed himself, the more she despised him.
+
+"You have been there to see a patient?" questioned Daisy, hardly
+knowing and certainly not caring what she did say.
+
+"Yes," replied Frank. "But she is better this morning; so I am off to
+others who want me more than she does."
+
+"Is it that Mrs. Bell from Trennach? I saw a bottle of medicine
+directed to West Street for her one day. Sam was putting it into his
+basket."
+
+"It is Mrs. Bell. She is worse than she used to be, for the disorder
+has made progress. And I fear she will grow worse, day by day now,
+until the end."
+
+"What a hypocrite he is!" thought Daisy: "I dare say there is as much
+the matter with her as there is with me. Of course he needs some plea
+of excuse--to be going there for ever after that wretched girl."
+
+"Do you come here pretty often?" went on Daisy, coughing to conceal
+the spleen in her tone, which she was unable to suppress.
+
+"I shall have to come here oftener in future, I fear," returned Frank,
+not directly answering the question; of which delay she took due note.
+Just for these few minutes, he had slackened his pace to hers, and
+they were walking side by side. "I am glad she is near me: I don't
+think any stranger would give her the care that I shall give her."
+
+"You speak as though you were anxious about her!" resentfully cried
+Daisy.
+
+"I am more than anxious. I would give half I am worth to be able to
+cure her."
+
+"Well, I'm sure!" exclaimed Daisy. "One would think you and these
+people must possess some bond of union in common."
+
+"And so we do," he answered.
+
+Perhaps the words were spoken incautiously. Daisy, looking quickly up
+at him, saw that he seemed lost in thought.
+
+"What is it?" she asked in a low tone: her breathing just then seeming
+a little difficult.
+
+"What is what?"
+
+"The bond of union between you and these Bells."
+
+The question brought him out of his abstraction. He laughed lightly:
+laughed, as Daisy thought, and saw, to do away with the impression the
+words had made: and answered carelessly.
+
+"The bond between me and Dame Bell? It is that I knew her at Trennach,
+Daisy, and learnt to respect her. She nursed me through a fever once."
+
+"Oh," said Daisy, turning her head away, indignant at what she
+believed was an evasion. The "bond," if there were any, existed, not
+between himself and the mother, but between himself and the daughter.
+
+"I dare say you attend them for nothing!"
+
+"Of course I do."
+
+"What would Mr. Max Brown say to that?"
+
+"What he pleased. Max Brown is not a man to object, Daisy."
+
+"You can't tell."
+
+"Yes, I can. If he did, I should pay him the cost of the medicines.
+And my time, at least, I can give."
+
+Daisy said no more. Swelling with resentment and jealousy, she walked
+by his side in silence. Frank saw her to the surgery-door, and then
+turned back rapidly. She went in; passed Sam, who was leisurely
+dusting the counter, and sat down in the parlour by the fire.
+
+Her state of mind was not one to be envied. Jealousy, you know, makes
+the food it feeds on. Mrs. Frank Raynor was making very disagreeable
+food for herself, indeed. She gave the reins to her imagination, and
+it presented her with all sorts of suggestive horrors. The worst was
+that she did not, and could not, regard these pictured fancies as
+possible delusions, emanating from her own brain, and to be cautiously
+received; but she converted them into undoubted facts. The sounds of
+Sam's movements in the surgery, his answers to applicants who came in,
+penetrated to her through the half-open door; but, though they touched
+her ear in a degree, they did not touch her senses. She was as one who
+heard not.
+
+Thus she sat on, until midday, indulging these visions to the full
+extent of her fancy, and utterly miserable. At least, perhaps not
+quite utterly so: for when people are in the state of angry rage that
+Daisy was, they cannot feel very acutely. A few minutes after twelve,
+Sam appeared. He stared to see his mistress sitting just as she had
+come in, not even her cloak removed, or her bonnet unfastened.
+
+"A letter for you, please, ma'am. The postman have just brought it
+in."
+
+Daisy took the letter from him without a word. It proved to be from
+her sister Charlotte, Mrs. Townley. Mrs. Townley wrote to say that she
+was back again at the house in Westbourne Terrace, and would be glad
+to see Daisy. She, with her children, had been making a long visit of
+several months to her mother at The Mount, and she had only now
+returned. "I did intend to be back for the New Year," she wrote; "but
+mamma and Lydia would not hear of it. I have many things to tell you,
+Daisy: so come to me as soon as you get this note. If your husband
+will join us at dinner--seven o'clock--there will be no difficulty
+about your getting home again. Say that I shall be happy to see him."
+
+Should she go, or should she not go? Mrs. Frank Raynor was in so
+excited a mood as not to care very much what she did. And--if she
+went, and he did not come in the evening, he would no doubt take the
+opportunity of passing it with Rosaline Bell.
+
+She went upstairs, took her things off, and passed into the
+drawing-room. The fire was burning brightly. Eve was a treasure of a
+servant, and attended to it carefully. Frank had given orders that a
+fire should be always kept up there: it was a better room for his wife
+than the one downstairs, and more cheerful.
+
+Certainly more cheerful: for the street and its busy traversers could
+be seen. The opposite fish-shop displayed its wares more plainly to
+this room than to the small room below. Just now, Monsieur and Madame,
+the fish proprietors, were enjoying a wordy war, touching some haddock
+that Madame had sold under cost price. He held an oyster-knife in his
+hand, and was laying down the law with it. She stood, in her old brown
+bonnet, her wrists turned back on her capacious hips, and defied his
+anger. Daisy had the pleasure of assisting at the quarrel, as the
+French say; for the tones of the disputants were loud, and partly
+reached her ears.
+
+"What a frightful place this is!" ejaculated Daisy. "What people! Yes,
+I will go to Charlotte. It is something to get away from them for a
+few hours, and into civilized life again."
+
+At one o'clock, the hand-bell in the passage below was rung: the
+signal for dinner. Daisy went down. Frank had only just come in, and
+was taking off his overcoat.
+
+"I have hardly a minute, Daisy," he said. "I have not seen all my
+patients yet."
+
+"Been hindering his time with Rosaline," thought Daisy. And she slowly
+and ungraciously took her place at the table. Frank, regardless of
+ceremony, had already begun to carve the boiled leg of mutton.
+
+"You have _generally_ finished before one o'clock," she coldly
+remarked, as he handed her plate to her. For Eve, good servant though
+she was, had no idea of remaining in the room during meals to wait
+upon them.
+
+"Yes, generally. But a good many people are ill: and I was hindered
+this morning by attending to an accident. A little boy was run over in
+the street."
+
+"Is he much hurt?"
+
+"Not very much. I shall get him right again soon."
+
+The dinner proceeded in silence. Frank was eating too rapidly to have
+leisure for anything else; Daisy's angry spirit would not permit her
+to talk. As she laid down her knife and fork, Frank pressed her to
+take some more mutton, but she curtly refused it.
+
+"I have said no once. This is luncheon; not dinner."
+
+Frank Raynor had become accustomed to hearing his wife speak to him in
+cold, resentful tones: but to-day they sounded especially cold. He had
+long ago put it down in his own mind to dissatisfaction at their
+blighted prospects; blighted, at least, in comparison with those they
+had so sanguinely entertained when wandering together side by side at
+Trennach and picturing the future to each other. It only made him the
+more patient, the more tender with her.
+
+"Mrs. Townley has written to ask me to go to her. She is back again in
+Westbourne Terrace. She bids me say she shall be happy to see you to
+dinner at seven. But I suppose you will not go."
+
+"Yes, I will go," said Frank, rapidly revolving ways and means, as
+regarded the exigencies of his patients. "I think I can get away for
+an hour or two, Daisy. Is it dress?"
+
+"Just as you please," was the frosty answer. "Mrs. Townley says
+nothing about dress; she would be hardly likely to do so; but she is
+accustomed to proper ways."
+
+"And how shall you go, my dear?" resumed Frank, passing over the
+implication with his usual sweetness of temper. "You had better have a
+cab."
+
+"I intend to have one," said Daisy.
+
+She arrayed herself in some of her smartest things, for the spirit of
+bravado was upon her: if her husband did not choose to dress, _she_
+should: and set out in a cab for Westbourne Terrace. Once there, she
+put away her troubles; outwardly at any rate: and her sister never
+suspected that anything was amiss.
+
+"I shall give you a surprise, Daisy," said Mrs. Townley in the course
+of the afternoon. "An old beau of yours is coming to dinner."
+
+"An old beau of mine! Who is that?"
+
+"Sir Paul Trellasis."
+
+"What an idea!" cried Daisy. "_He_ a beau of mine! Mamma must have put
+that into your head, Charlotte. Sir Paul came to The Mount once or
+twice; as he was a bachelor, mamma at once jumped to the conclusion
+that he must come for Lydia or for me. He married Miss Beauchamp that
+same year, you know."
+
+"He and his wife are in London, and I asked them to come and dine with
+us to-day without ceremony," resumed Mrs. Townley. "Had you married
+Sir Paul, Daisy, you would not have been buried alive amongst savages
+in some unknown region of London."
+
+"No, I should not," replied the miserable wife with stern emphasis.
+
+But there was another surprise in store for Daisy. For Mrs. Townley as
+well. At dusk, a caller was ushered into the drawing-room, and proved
+to be the Reverend Titus Backup. The curate had never quite severed
+his relations with Trennach. He had taken three-months' duty there
+again the past autumn, when the Rector was once more laid aside by
+illness. He had then made the acquaintance of Mrs. Townley; and being
+now in London, had called upon her.
+
+Mrs. Frank Raynor flushed red as a rose when he entered. The sight
+brought back to her memory the old time at Trennach, and its doings,
+with vivid intensity. She seemed to see herself once more standing
+with Frank Raynor before him at the altar, when he was making them
+_One_ together, until death should part them. Mr. Backup had lost
+somewhat of his former nervousness, but he was shy still, and held out
+his hand to Mrs. Frank Raynor with timidity.
+
+"Ah, I remember--it was you who married Daisy," observed Mrs. Townley.
+"My mother at first would not forgive you, I believe, Mr. Backup,
+until she found you did not know it was a stolen match. And for how
+long are you in town?"
+
+"I am not sure," replied the parson. "I have come up to see about a
+curacy."
+
+"Well, you must stay and dine with us," returned Mrs. Townley.
+"Nonsense! You must. I shall not let you say no. Sir Paul and Lady
+Trellasis are coming--you know them--and Mr. Raynor."
+
+The curate, perhaps lacking courage to press his refusal, stayed. In
+due time Sir Paul and his wife arrived; and, as the clock was striking
+seven, Frank: dressed.
+
+All this need not have been noticed, for in truth Mrs. Townley and
+her visitors have little to do with the story, but for an incident
+that occurred in the course of the evening. Mrs. Townley was on the
+music-stool, playing some scientific "morceau" that was crushingly
+loud, and seemed interminable, with Sir Paul at her elbow turning over
+for her, and Daisy on the other side. Lady Trellasis, a pretty young
+woman with black hair, sat talking with Mr. Backup on the sofa near
+the fire: and Frank stood just behind them, looking at photographs. In
+a moment, when he was least thinking of trouble, certain words spoken
+by the curate caught his ear.
+
+"Josiah Bell: that was his name. No; the particulars have never come
+to light. He was found eventually, as of course you know, and buried
+in the churchyard at Trennach."
+
+"The affair took great hold on my imagination," observed Lady
+Trellasis. "I was staying at The Mount with papa and mamma at the
+time the man was lost. It was a story that seemed to be surrounded
+with romance. They spoke, I remember, of the daughter, saying she was
+so beautiful. Papa thought, I recollect, that the poor man must have
+fallen into some pit or other; and so it proved."
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Backup, "a pit so deep that the miners call it the
+Bottomless Shaft. The mystery of course consisted in how he got
+there."
+
+"But why should that be a mystery? Did he not fall into it?"
+
+"The fact is, that some superstition attaches to the place, and not a
+single miner, it is said, would willingly approach it. Bell especially
+would not go near it: for in all matters of superstition he was
+singularly weak-minded."
+
+"Then how did he get in?" quickly asked Lady Trellasis.
+
+"There was a suspicion of foul play. It was thought the man was thrown
+in."
+
+"How very dreadful! Thrown in by whom?"
+
+"I cannot tell you. A faint rumour arose later--as I was told by Mr.
+Pine--that some one in a higher walk of life was supposed to have been
+implicated in the matter: some gentleman. The Rector tried to trace
+the report to its source, and to ascertain the name of the suspected
+man. He could get at nothing: but he says that an uncomfortable
+feeling about it remains still on his mind. I should not be surprised
+at the affair cropping up again some day."
+
+The "morceau" came to an end with a final crash, and the conversation
+with it. Frank woke up with a start, to find a servant standing before
+him with a tray and tea-cups. He took one of the cups, and drank the
+tea quite scalding, never knowing whether it was hot or cold. Certain
+of the words, which he could not help overhearing, had startled all
+feeling out of him.
+
+"Is it not time to go, Daisy?" he asked presently.
+
+"If you think so," she freezingly answered.
+
+"Then will you put on your bonnet, my dear," he said, never noticing
+the ungraciousness of her reply. After those ominous words, all other
+words, for the time being, fell on his ear as though he heard them
+not.
+
+Not a syllable was exchanged between them as they sat together in the
+cab, speeding homewards. Frank was too unpleasantly absorbed to speak;
+Daisy was indulging resentment. That last sentence of Mr. Backup's, "I
+should not be surprised at the affair cropping up again," kept surging
+in his mind. He asked himself whether it was spoken prophetically;
+and, he also asked, what, if it did crop up, would be the consequences
+to himself?
+
+"He is thinking of _her_," concluded Daisy, resenting the unusual
+silence, although she herself by her manner invoked it. And, in good
+truth, so he was.
+
+Handing Daisy out of the cab when it stopped, Frank opened the
+surgery-door for her, and turned to pay the driver. At that self-same
+moment some man came strolling slowly along the pavement. He was
+wrapped up in a warm coat, and seemed to be walking for pleasure.
+
+He looked at the cab, looked at the open door of the house, looked at
+Frank. Not straightforwardly; but by covert sidelong glances.
+
+"Good-night, Mr. Raynor," said he at length, as he was passing.
+
+"Good-night to you," replied Frank.
+
+And Mr. Blase Pellet sauntered on, enjoying the icicles of the winter
+night. Frank went in, and barred and bolted his door.
+
+"I wish to Heaven it needed nothing but bars and bolts to keep the
+fellow out!" spoke Frank in his dismay. "How long he will be kept out,
+I know not. Talk of whether the affair will crop up again!--why, it
+_is_ cropping up. And I have a bitter enemy in Blase Pellet."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+HUMILIATION.
+
+
+Again the weeks and the months went on, bringing round the autumn
+season of another year. For in real life--and this is very much of a
+true history--time passes imperceptibly when there are no special
+events to mark its progress. Seasons succeed each other, leaving
+little record behind them.
+
+It was a monotonous life at best--that of the Raynors'. It seemed to
+be spent in a quiet, constant endeavour to exist; a patient, perpetual
+struggling to make both ends meet: to remain under the humble roof of
+Laurel Cottage, and not to have to turn from it; to contrive that
+their garments should be decent, something like gentlepeople's, not
+ragged and shabby.
+
+But for Edina they would never have done it. Even though they had her
+fifty pounds a-year, without her presence they would never have got
+on. She managed and worked, and had ever a cheerful word for them all.
+When their spirits failed, especially Mrs. Raynor's, and the onward
+way looked unusually dark and dreary, it was Edina who talked of a
+bright day-star to arise in the distance, of the silver lining that is
+sure to be in every cloud. But for Edina they might almost have lost
+faith in Heaven.
+
+The one most altered of all was Charles. Altered in looks, bearing,
+manner; above all, in spirit. All his pride had flown; all his
+self-importance had disappeared as a summer mist before the sun:
+disappeared for ever. Had the discipline he was subjected to been
+transient, lasting for a few weeks, let us say, or even months, its
+impressions might have worn away with renewed prosperity, had such set
+in again, leaving no lasting trace for good. But when this sort of
+depressing mortification continues for years, the lesson it implants
+in the mind is generally permanent. Day by day, every day of his life,
+and every hour in the day, Charles was subjected to the humiliations
+(as he looked upon them, and to him they were indeed such) that attend
+the position of a working clerk. He who had been reared in the habits
+and ideas of a gentleman, had believed himself the undoubted heir to
+Eagles' Nest, found himself reduced by fate to this subordinate
+capacity, ordered about by the articled clerks, and regarded as an
+individual not at all to be ranked with them. He was at their beck and
+call, and obliged to be so; he had to submit to them as his superiors,
+not only his superiors in the office, but his superiors socially;
+above all, he had to submit to their off-hand tones, which always
+implied, unwittingly, perhaps, to themselves, but all too apparent to
+Charles, a consciousness of the distinction that existed between them.
+
+How galling it all was to Charles Raynor, the reader may imagine; but
+it can never be described. At first it was all but unbearable. Over
+and over again he thought he must run away from it, and escape to a
+land where these distinctions do not exist. He might dig for gold in
+California; he might clear a settlement for himself in the back-woods
+of America: and the life in either place would be as paradise compared
+with this one at Prestleigh and Preen's. Nothing but the broad fact
+that the wages he earned were absolutely necessary to his mother's and
+the family's support, detained him. To give that aid was his
+imperative duty before God: for had it not been through him and his
+carelessness that they were reduced to this terrible extremity? So
+Charles Raynor, helped on by the ever-ready counsel of Edina,
+_endured_ his troubles, put up with his humiliation, and bore onwards
+with the best resolution he could call up. Who knew, who could ever
+know, _how much_ of this wonderful change was really due to Edina?
+
+And, as the time went on, he grew to feel the troubles somewhat less
+keenly: habit reconciles us in a degree to the worst of things, no
+matter what that worst may be. But he had learnt a lesson that would
+last him his whole life. Never again could he become the arrogant
+young fellow who thought the world was made for his especial
+delectation. He had gained experience; he had found his level; he saw
+what existence was worth, and that those who would be happy in it must
+first learn and perform their duties in it. His very nature had
+changed. Self-sufficiency, selfish indifference, had given place to
+modesty, to a subdued thoughtfulness of habit, to an earnest sense of
+other's needs as well as his own. Frank Raynor, with all his
+sunny-heartedness and geniality, could not be more ready with a
+helping hand, than was Charles. He could give nothing in money, but he
+could in kind. No other discipline, perhaps, would have had this
+effect upon Charles Raynor. It had made a man of him, and, if a
+subdued, a good one. And so, he went on, reconciled in a degree to the
+changed life after his two years' spell at it, and looking forward to
+no better prospect in the future. Prospect of every sort seemed so
+hopeless.
+
+A little fresh care had come upon them this autumn, in the return of
+Alice. Changes had taken place in the school at Richmond, and her
+services were no longer required. Edina borrowed the advertisement
+sheet of the _Times_ every morning, and caused Alice to write to any
+notice that appeared likely to suit her. As yet--a fortnight had gone
+on--nothing had come of it.
+
+"No one seems to want a governess," remarked Alice one Monday morning,
+as they rose from breakfast, and Charles was brushing his hat to
+depart. "I suppose there are too many of us."
+
+"By one half," assented Edina. "The field is too crowded. Some lady in
+this neighbourhood recently advertised for a governess for her
+daughters, directing the answers to be addressed to Jones's library,
+where we get these papers. Mr. Jones told me that the first day's post
+brought more than a hundred letters."
+
+"Oh dear!" exclaimed Alice.
+
+"The lady engaged one of the applicants," continued Edina, "and then
+discovered that she was the daughter of a small shopkeeper at
+Camberwell. That put her out of conceit of governesses, and she has
+sent her children to school."
+
+"I should not like to be hard, I'm sure, or to speak against any class
+of people," interposed Mrs. Raynor, in her meek, deprecating voice;
+"but I do think that some of the young women who came forward as
+governesses would do much better as servants. These inferior persons
+are helping to jostle the gentlewomen out of the governess field--as
+Edina calls it."
+
+"Will they jostle me out of it?" cried Alice, looking up in alarm.
+"Oh, Charley, I wish you could hear of something for me!--you go out
+into the world, you know."
+
+Charles, saying good-bye and kissing his mother, went off with a smile
+at the words: he was thinking how very unlikely it was that he should
+hear of anything. Governesses did not come within the radius of
+Prestleigh and Preen's. Nevertheless, it was singular that Charles did
+hear of a vacant situation that self-same day, and heard it in the
+office.
+
+In the course of the afternoon the head-clerk had despatched Charles
+to Mr. Preen's room with a message. He was about to deliver it when
+Mr. Preen waved his hand to him to wait: a friend who had been sitting
+with him had risen to leave.
+
+"When shall we see Mrs. Preen to spend her promised day with us?"
+asked the gentleman, as he was shaking hands. "My wife has been
+expecting her all the week."
+
+"I don't know," was the reply. "The little girls' governess has left;
+and, as they don't much like going back to the nursery to the younger
+children, Mrs. Preen has them with her."
+
+"The governess left, has she?" was the answering remark. "I fancied
+you thought great things of her."
+
+"So we did. She suited extremely well. But she was summoned home last
+week in consequence of her mother's serious illness, and now sends us
+word that she will not be able to leave home again."
+
+"Well, you will easily find a successor, Preen."
+
+"Two or three ladies have already applied, but Mrs. Preen did not care
+for them. She will have to advertise, I suppose."
+
+Charles drank in the words. He delivered the message, and took Mr.
+Stroud the answer, his head full of Alice. If she could only obtain
+the situation! Mrs. Preen seemed a nice woman, and the two little
+girls were nice: he had seen them occasionally at the office. Alice
+would be sure to be happy there.
+
+Sitting down to his desk, he went on with his writing, making one or
+two mistakes, and drawing down upon him the wrath of Mr. Stroud. But
+his mind was far away, deliberating whether he might, or could, do
+anything.
+
+Speak to Mr. Preen? He hardly liked to do it: the copying-clerks kept
+at a respectful distance. And yet, why should he not speak? It seemed
+to be his only chance. Then came a thought that made Charley's face
+burn like fire: would _his_ sister be deemed worthy of the post? Well,
+he could only make the trial.
+
+Just before the time of leaving for the night, Charles went to Mr.
+Preen's room, knocked at the door, and was told to enter. Mr. Preen
+was standing in front of his desk, in the act of locking it, and a
+gentleman sat close before the almost-extinguished fire in the large
+easy-chair which had been old Mr. Callard's. Charles could see nothing
+but the back of his head, for the high, well-stuffed chair hid all the
+rest of him. He had a newspaper in his hand, and was reading it by the
+light of a solitary gas-burner; the other having been put out. To see
+this stranger here took Charles aback.
+
+"What is it?" questioned Mr. Preen.
+
+Charles hesitated. "I had thought you were alone, sir."
+
+"All the same. Say what you want."
+
+"I have taken the liberty of coming to speak to you on a private
+matter, sir; but----" There he stopped.
+
+"What is it?" repeated Mr. Preen.
+
+"When I was in this room to-day, sir, I heard you say that your little
+girls were in want of a governess."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"What I am about to say may seem nothing but presumption--but my
+sister is seeking just such a situation. If you--if Mrs. Preen--would
+only see her!"
+
+"Your sister?" returned the lawyer; with, Charles thought, chilling
+surprise. It damped him: made him feel sensitively small.
+
+"Oh, pray do not judge of my sister by me, sir!--I mean by the
+position I occupy here," cried Charles, all his prearranged speeches
+forgotten, and speaking straight from his wounded feelings, his full
+heart. "You only know me as a young man working for his daily bread,
+and very poor. But indeed we are gentlepeople: not only by birth and
+education, but in mind and habits. I was copying a deed to-day: the
+lease of a farm on the estate of Eagles' Nest. Do you know it, sir?"
+
+"Know what?" asked Mr. Preen. "That you were copying the deed, or the
+estate?"
+
+"Eagles' Nest."
+
+"I know it only from being solicitor to its owner. As my predecessor,
+Mr. Callard, was before me."
+
+"That estate was ours, sir. When Mr. George Atkinson came into
+possession of it he turned us out. It had come to my father from his
+sister, Mrs. Atkinson, and we lived in it for a year, never dreaming
+it possible that it could be wrested from us. But at the year's-end a
+later will came to light: my aunt had left Eagles' Nest to Mr. George
+Atkinson, passing my father over."
+
+Charles stopped to gather breath and firmness. The remembrance of his
+father, and of their subsequent misfortunes and privations, almost
+unnerved him. Mr. Preen listened in evident surprise.
+
+"But--was your father Major Raynor, of Eagles' Nest?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You never mentioned it."
+
+"To what end?" returned Charles; while the stranger took a momentary
+glance over his shoulder at him, and then bent over his newspaper
+again, as though the matter and the young clerk were no concern of
+his. "Now that my position in life has so much altered, I would rather
+let people think I was born a copying-clerk, than that I was heir to
+Eagles' Nest."
+
+"It sounds like a romance," cried Mr. Preen.
+
+"For us it has been, and is, only too stern reality. But I do not wish
+to trouble you with these affairs, sir; and I should not have presumed
+to allude to them, but for wishing to prove to you that Alice is
+superior to what you might imagine her to be as my sister. She is a
+very excellent governess indeed, accomplished, and a thorough lady."
+
+"And you say she is in want of a situation?"
+
+"Yes, sir. She has been for two years teacher in a school at Richmond.
+If Mrs. Preen would but consent to give her a trial, I know she would
+prove worthy. I do not say so merely to get her the post," he
+continued, earnestly, "but because I really believe she could and
+would faithfully fulfil its duties. I would not otherwise urge it: for
+we have learnt not to press ourselves forward at the expense of other
+people's interests, whatever the need."
+
+"Well, Raynor: I cannot say anything myself about this matter; it is
+Mrs. Preen's business and not mine," spoke the lawyer, upon whom
+Charles's story and Charles's manner had made an impression. "If your
+sister likes to call and see Mrs. Preen she can do so."
+
+"Oh, thank you; thank you very much, sir," said Charles. "I am sure
+you will like Alice."
+
+"Stay; not so fast"--for Charley was leaving the room in eager haste.
+"Do you know where my house is?"
+
+"To be sure I do, sir--in Bayswater. I have been up there with
+messages for you."
+
+"So that's young Raynor!" cried the gentleman at the fire, turning as
+Charles went out, and taking a look at him.
+
+"It is young Raynor, one of our copying-clerks," acquiesced Mr. Preen.
+"But I never knew he was one of the Raynors who were connected with
+Eagles' Nest."
+
+"Is he steady?--hardworking?"
+
+"Quite so, I think. He keeps his hours punctually, and does his work
+well. He has been here nearly two years."
+
+"Is not upstart and lazy?"
+
+Mr. Preen laughed. "He has no opportunity of being either. I fancy he
+and his family have to live in a very humble, reduced sort of way. If
+they were the Raynors of Eagles' Nest--and of course they were, or he
+would not say so--they must have been finding the world pretty hard of
+late."
+
+"So much the better," remarked the stranger. "By what I have heard,
+they needed to find it so."
+
+"He has to make no end of shifts, for want of means. At first the
+clerks made fun of him; but they left it off: he took it so helplessly
+and patiently. His clothes are often threadbare; he walks to and fro,
+instead of riding as the others do, though I fancy it is close upon
+three miles. I don't believe he has a proper dinner one day out of the
+six."
+
+The stranger nodded complacently: as if the information gave him
+intense satisfaction.
+
+"I wish I could persuade you to come home and dine with me," resumed
+Mr. Preen, as he concluded his preparations for departure.
+
+"I am not well enough to do so. I am fit for nothing to-night but bed.
+Will one of your people call a cab for me? Oh, here's Prestleigh."
+
+As Charles had gone out, dashing along the passage from his interview,
+he nearly dashed against Mr. Prestleigh, who was coming up, some
+papers in hand.
+
+"Take care, Raynor! What are you in such a hurry about? Is Mr. George
+Atkinson gone?"
+
+"Who, sir?" asked Charles, struck with the name.
+
+"Mr. George Atkinson. Is he still with Mr. Preen?"
+
+"Some gentleman is with him, sir. He is sitting over the fire.
+
+"The same, no doubt. He is a great invalid just now."
+
+Charles felt his face flush all over. So, it was the owner of Eagles'
+Nest before whom he had spoken. What a singular coincidence! The only
+time that a word had escaped his lips in regard to their fallen
+fortunes, _he_ must be present and hear it! And Charley felt inclined
+to wish he had lost his tongue first. All the world might have been
+welcome to hear it, rather than George Atkinson.
+
+The way home was generally long and weary, but this evening Charles
+found it light enough: he seemed to tread upon air. His thoughts were
+filled with Alice, and with the hope he was carrying to her. Never for
+a moment did he doubt she would be successful. He already saw her in
+imagination installed at Mrs. Preen's.
+
+Edina went to Bayswater with Alice in the morning. A handsome house,
+well appointed. Mrs. Preen, interested in what she had heard from her
+husband, received them graciously. She liked them at first sight.
+Though very plain in dress, she saw that they were gentlewomen.
+
+"It cannot be that I am speaking to Mrs. Raynor?" she cried, puzzled
+at Edina's youthful look.
+
+Edina set her right: she was _Miss_ Raynor. "The result of possessing
+no cards," thought Edina. "I never had more than fifty printed in my
+life, and most of those got discoloured with years. Mrs. Raynor is not
+strong enough to walk as far as this," she said aloud.
+
+"But surely you did not walk?" cried Mrs. Preen.
+
+"Yes, for walking costs nothing," replied Edina with a smile.
+
+"The Raynors, if I have been rightly informed, have experienced a
+reverse of fortune."
+
+"A reverse that is rarely experienced," avowed Edina. "From wealth and
+luxury they have been plunged into trouble and poverty. If you, madam,
+are what, from this short interview, I judge you to be, the avowal
+will not tell against our application."
+
+"Not in the least," said Mrs. Preen, cordially, for she was a
+warm-hearted, sensible woman. "We do not expect young ladies who are
+rich to go out as governesses."
+
+The result was that Alice was engaged, and they were asked to stay
+luncheon. Alice played, and her playing was approved of; she sang one
+short song, and that was approved of also. Mrs. Preen was really taken
+with hor. She was to have thirty guineas a-year to begin with, and to
+enter the day after the morrow.
+
+"I can buy mamma a new black silk, by-and-by, with all that money,"
+said Alice, impulsively, with a flushed, happy face. And though Mrs.
+Preen laughed at the remark, she liked her all the better for it: it
+was so naïve and genuine.
+
+"Oh my dear child, I am sure God is helping you!" breathed Mrs.
+Raynor, when they got back home and told her the news.
+
+On the afternoon appointed, Thursday, Alice went to take up her abode
+at Mrs. Preen's, accompanied, as before, by Edina. Poverty makes us
+acquainted with habits before unknown, and necessity, it is said, is a
+hard taskmaster; nevertheless, it was deemed well that Alice should
+not walk alone in the streets of London. Edina left her in safety, and
+saw for a moment her pupils--two nice little girls of eight and ten
+years old.
+
+Alice was taking off her bonnet in the chamber assigned her when Mrs.
+Preen entered it.
+
+"We shall have a few friends with us this evening, Miss Raynor," she
+said. "It may give you a little pleasure to come to the drawing-room
+and join them."
+
+"Oh, thank you," said Alice, her face beaming at the unexpected, and,
+with her, very rare treat. "If I can--if my boxes arrive. They were
+sent off this morning by the carrier."
+
+The boxes arrived. Poor Alice might have looked almost as well had
+they been delayed, for her one best dress was an old black silk.
+Prettily made for evening wear, it is true; but its white lace and
+ribbon trimmings could not conceal the fact that the silk itself was
+worn and shabby.
+
+The few friends consisted of at least thirty people, most of them in
+gay evening dress. Mrs. Preen introduced her to a young lady, a Miss
+Knox, who was chatty and pleasant, and told her many of the names of
+those present. But after a while Miss Knox went away into the next
+room, leaving Alice alone.
+
+She felt something like a fish out of water. Other people moved about
+here and there talking with this acquaintance and laughing with that;
+but Alice, conscious of being only the governess, did not like to do
+so. She was standing near one of the open windows, within shade of the
+curtains that were being swayed about by the draught, turning her gaze
+sometimes upon the rooms, sometimes to the road below.
+
+Suddenly, her whole conscious being seemed struck as by a blow. Her
+pulses stopped, her heart felt faint, every vestige of colour forsook
+her cheeks. Walking slowly across the room, within a yard of her, came
+William Stane.
+
+Not until he was close up did he see her standing there. A moment's
+hesitation, during which he seemed to be as surprised as she, and then
+he held out his hand.
+
+"It is Miss Raynor, I think?"
+
+"Yes," replied Alice, her hand meeting his, and the hot crimson
+flushing her cheek again. How well he was looking! Better, far better
+looking than he used to be. And he was of more importance in the
+world, for he had risen into note as a pleader, young at the Bar
+though he was, and his name was often on the lips of men. His presence
+brought back to Alice the old Elysian days at Eagles' Nest, and her
+heart ached.
+
+"Are Sir Philip and Lady Stane quite well?" she asked, in sheer need
+of saying something; for the silence was embarrassing.
+
+"My mother is well; my father is very poorly indeed. He is a confirmed
+invalid now."
+
+His tone was frigid. Alice felt it painfully. She stood there before
+him in the blaze of light, all too conscious of her shabby dress, her
+subdued manner, all her other disadvantages. Not far off sat a young
+lady in rich white silk and lace, diamond bracelets gleaming on her
+arms. Times had indeed changed!
+
+"Are any of your family here to-night, Miss Raynor? I do not see
+them."
+
+"No; oh no;--I am only the governess here," replied poor Alice, making
+the confession in bitter pain. And he might hear it in her voice.
+
+"Oh--the governess," he assented, quite unmoved. "I hope Mrs. Raynor
+is well."
+
+"Not very well, thank you."
+
+Mr. Stane moved away. She saw him several times after that in
+different parts of the room; but he did not come near her again.
+
+And that, the first night that Alice spent at her new home, was passed
+in the same cruel pain, her pillow wet with tears. Pain, not so much
+for the life of ease she had once enjoyed, the one of labour she had
+entered upon, not so much in regret for the changed position she held
+in the world, as for the loss of the love of William Stane.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+THE MISSING DESK.
+
+
+But there is something yet to relate of the afternoon. It was about
+five o'clock when Edina reached home. Very much to her astonishment
+she saw a gentleman seated by Mrs. Raynor. The tea-things were on the
+table. Bobby sat on the floor. Kate stood, her back to the window,
+gazing with some awe at the visitor--so unusual an event in the
+retired household. He was a scanty-haired little gentleman, with cold,
+light eyes, and a trim, neat dress. Edina knew him at once, and held
+out her hand. It was Street, the banker.
+
+It was evident that he had come in only a minute before her, for he
+had not yet entered upon his business. He began upon it now. Edina
+silently took off her things as she listened, put them on the
+side-table, and made the tea. There he sat, talking methodically, and
+appearing to notice nothing, but in reality seeing everything: the
+shabby room, the scanty attire of the young children, the faded
+appearance of Mrs. Raynor, as she sat putting fresh cuffs on a jacket
+of Alfred's. Edina began to pour out the tea, and brought him a cup,
+handing him the sugar and milk.
+
+"Is it cream?" asked Mr. Street. "I can't take cream."
+
+"It is skim-milk," said Edina. "But it is good: not at all watered. We
+buy it at a small farmhouse."
+
+He had come to ask Mrs. Raynor whether she remembered a small ebony
+desk that had been at Eagles' Nest. It had belonged to the late Mrs.
+Atkinson, he observed: "she kept papers in it: receipts and things of
+that sort."
+
+"I remember it quite well," replied Mrs. Raynor. "My husband took it
+into use, and kept papers of his own in it. He used to put all the
+bills there."
+
+"Do you know what became of the desk, madam?"
+
+"It was left in the house," said Mrs. Raynor.
+
+"Ay: we supposed it would be," nodded the banker. "But, madam, it
+cannot be found. I was at Eagles' Nest myself all day yesterday,
+searching for it. Mr. Fairfax says he does not remember to have seen
+it."
+
+The name struck unfamiliarly on Mrs. Raynor's ear. "Mr. Fairfax? Who
+is he?"
+
+"The land-steward, who lives in the house. He thinks that had the desk
+been there when he entered into possession, he should have noticed
+it."
+
+"Is the desk particularly wanted?" interposed Edina, struck with the
+fact that so busy a man as Mr. Street should have been down in search
+of it.
+
+"We should be glad to find it," was the answer, as he turned again to
+Mrs. Raynor. "Lamb, the butler, who remained in the house for some two
+or three weeks after you left it, says he does not remember to have
+seen it there after your departure. So I procured your address from my
+brother, madam, and have come to ask you about it."
+
+Mrs. Raynor, who had put aside her work soon after Mr. Street entered,
+sat with her cup and saucer in her hand, looking a little bewildered.
+He proceeded to explain further.
+
+On the evening of Mr. George Atkinson's arrival in London--which had
+only taken place on Monday, the day Charles Raynor saw him in Mr.
+Preen's office--he and the banker were conversing together on various
+matters, as would naturally be the case after his long absence.
+Amongst other subjects touched upon was that of the lost money and the
+vouchers: neither of which had ever been discovered. Whilst they were
+recalling, in a desultory sort of way, every probable and improbable
+place in which these vouchers, if they existed, could have been
+placed, Mr. Atkinson suddenly asked whether the ebony desk had been
+well examined. Of course it had, and all the other desks, was Mr.
+Street's answer. "But," said George Atkinson, "that ebony desk had a
+false bottom to it, in which things might be concealed. I wonder I
+never thought of that before. It may be that the Raynors never found
+that out; and I should not be much surprised if Mrs. Atkinson put the
+bonds in it, and if they are in it to this day."
+
+Of course the suggestion was worth following up. Especially worthy of
+it did it appear to Street, the banker, who had a keen scent for
+money, whether his own or other people's. He went down himself to
+Eagles' Nest to search the desk: but of the desk he could find no
+traces. The land-agent who had since occupied the house did not
+remember to have seen anything of the kind. He next inquired for Lamb,
+the former butler, and heard that he was now living with Sir Philip
+Stane. To Sir Philip Stane's proceeded Mr. Street, and saw Lamb. Lamb
+said he knew the desk quite well; but he could not recollect seeing it
+after the family had left, and he had no idea what became of it. Mr.
+Street, feeling baffled, had returned to town without learning
+anything of the desk. He had now come down to question Mrs. Raynor.
+
+"I wish, madam, I could hear that you had brought it away with you,"
+he observed, the explanation over. It had been rather a long one for
+curt-speaking Mr. Street.
+
+"We should not be likely to bring it away," said poor Mrs. Raynor, in
+her mild, meek voice. "We were told that we must not remove anything
+that had been Mrs. Atkinson's."
+
+"True. Those instructions were issued by Mr. George Atkinson, through
+me, madam."
+
+"And I can assure you, sir, that we did _not_ remove anything," she
+replied, a little flurried. "All that we brought away belonged
+strictly to ourselves. But I fancy Mr. George Atkinson must be
+mistaken in supposing the bonds were in that desk. Had they been there
+my husband could not have failed to see them."
+
+"Did he know of the false bottom?"
+
+"I am not aware that he did. But still--he so often used the desk. It
+frequently stood in the little room, upon the low cabinet, or
+secretaire. I have seen him turn it upside down, when searching for
+some particular bill he had mislaid."
+
+"That does not prove the bonds were not in the secret compartment,"
+remarked the banker.
+
+"Did you know of this secret compartment?" inquired Edina.
+
+"I did not, Miss Raynor. Or you may be sure it would have been
+searched when we were first looking for the bonds. This desk George
+Atkinson himself brought from Ceylon the first time he went there, and
+gave it to Mrs. Atkinson. It was not, I believe, really of ebony, but
+of black wood peculiar to the country; handsomely carved, as you no
+doubt remember, if you made acquaintance with the desk at Eagles'
+Nest. Mr. George Atkinson cannot imagine how he could have forgotten
+the desk until now; but it had as completely slipped his memory, he
+says, as though it had never existed."
+
+"I'm sure I wish it could be found!" spoke Mrs. Raynor. "It may be
+that the bonds are in it. That my husband never discovered the
+compartment you speak of, I feel assured. If he had, we should all
+have known it."
+
+"And--just one more question, madam," said the banker, rising to
+depart. "Do you chance to remember in what room that desk was left
+when you quitted Eagles' Nest?"
+
+Mrs. Raynor paused in thought; and then shook her head hopelessly.
+"No, I do not," she answered. "I know the desk must have been left
+there because we did not bring it away, but I have no especial
+recollection about it at all. Dear me! What a strange thing if the
+bonds were lying concealed in it all that time!"
+
+"That they are lying in it I think more than likely--provided there
+are any to lie anywhere," observed the banker, "for it is most
+singular that none have come to light. It is also to be regretted that
+Mr. Atkinson did not think of the desk before this. Good-evening,
+madam."
+
+"We heard that Mr. Atkinson was in London," remarked Edina, as she
+accompanied Mr. Street to the front-door.
+
+"For a few days only."
+
+"For a few days only! When does he intend to enter into possession of
+Eagles' Nest?"
+
+"I cannot tell: he is an invalid just now," was the hurried answer, as
+if the banker did not care to be questioned. "Good-day, Miss Raynor."
+And away he went with a quick step.
+
+Edina began to wash up the tea-things, that she might get to some
+ironing. Her mind was busy, and somewhat troubled. Reminiscences of
+George Atkinson, thoughts of the missing desk and of the lost bonds
+that were perhaps in it, kept rapidly chasing each other in her
+brain--and there seemed to be no comfort in any one of them.
+
+"Had the desk been brought away from Eagles' Nest, I must have seen
+it," she remarked at length, but in doubtful tones, as if not feeling
+altogether sure of her assertion.
+
+"But surely, Edina, you don't think we _should_ bring it!" cried Mrs.
+Raynor, looking up from her work, which she had resumed.
+
+"Not intentionally, of course, Mary. The only chance of it would be if
+Charles, or any one else, inadvertently packed it up."
+
+"I am sure he did not," said Mrs. Raynor. "Had it been brought away by
+accident we should certainly have seen it, and sent it back to Eagles'
+Nest."
+
+"I remember that desk quite well," spoke up Kate, looking off the
+spelling-lesson she was learning. "I remember seeing Frank empty all
+the papers out of it one morning.
+
+"Frank did?" cried Edina.
+
+"Why, yes: it was Frank who examined the desk," said Mrs. Raynor. "I
+now recollect as much as that. It was the day after the funeral. You
+were upstairs, Edina, helping to pack Daisy's things for London. I was
+crying about the money we owed, not knowing whether it was much or
+little, and Frank said we had better examine the bills. I told him the
+bills were most likely all in the little ebony desk--and he went to
+get them.
+
+"I saw him do it," reiterated Kate. "I was in the little room with
+Mademoiselle Delrue. He came and unlocked the desk, shook all the
+papers out of it, and took them away with him."
+
+"And what did he do with the desk?" asked Edina. "Did he leave it
+there?"
+
+"I don't know. I think he took that away too."
+
+"I wonder whether Frank would remember anything of it?" mused Edina.
+"Perhaps he put up the desk somewhere for safety, after taking the
+papers out of it: in some cupboard or closet?"
+
+"Perhaps he did," added Mrs. Raynor. "It is so strange a thing that it
+cannot be found."
+
+"I may as well walk over to Frank's, and hear what his recollections
+are upon the subject," said Edina after a pause.
+
+"But you must be so tired, Edina, after that walk to Bayswater."
+
+"Not very. I meant to iron the boy's collars and Charley's wristbands
+this evening, but I can do that to-morrow."
+
+Mrs. Raynor made no further objection; and Edina set out. The visit of
+the banker seemed to have saddened rather than cheered her--as so
+unusual a little change in the monotony of their home life might have
+been expected to do. They all felt faint and weary with their
+depressing prospects. Were things to go on for life as they now were?
+It was a question they often asked themselves. And, for all they could
+see, the answer was--Yes. Even Edina at times lost heart, and indulged
+in a good cry in secret.
+
+Matters were not in a much better state at Frank Raynor's. It is true
+no poverty was there, no privation; but the old happiness that existed
+between him and his wife had disappeared. Daisy was much changed. The
+once warm-hearted girl had become cold and silent, and frightfully
+apathetic. Her husband never received a kindly look from her, or heard
+a loving tone. She did not complain. She did not reproach him. She did
+not find fault with any earthly thing. She just went through life in a
+listless kind of manner, as if all interest had left her for ever.
+Frank put it down to dissatisfaction at their changed circumstances;
+to the obscure manner in which they lived. Ever and anon he would try
+to breathe a word of hope that things would be different sometime: but
+his wife never responded to it.
+
+Steeped in her miserable jealousy, was Mrs. Frank Raynor. All through
+this past year had she been silently indulging it. It had become a
+chronic ailment; it coloured her mind by day and her dreams by night.
+The most provoking feature of it all was, that she could not obtain
+any tangible proof of her husband's delinquency, anything very special
+to make a stir about: and how intensely aggravating that is to a
+jealous woman, let many confess. That her husband did go to Mrs.
+Bell's frequently, was indisputable: but then, as a counterbalance to
+that, there was the fact that he went in his professional capacity. No
+end of pills and potions were entered in Mrs. Bell's name in the
+medicine-book, and Daisy was therefore unable to assert that the plea
+for his visits was a mere pretence. But she believed it was so. Once,
+chance had given her an opportunity of speaking of these visits. A
+serious accident happened in the street just opposite their door,
+through a vicious horse. Daisy watched it from the drawing-room
+window; saw the injured man brought into the surgery. She ran down in
+distress. Frank was not at home. The boy flew one way in search of
+him, Eve ran another: but Frank could not be found, and the poor man
+had to be carried insensible elsewhere. "I'm very sorry," said Frank,
+when he returned, speaking rather carelessly; "I was at Mrs. Bell's."
+"You appear to be pretty often there," retorted Daisy, an angry sound
+in her usually cold tones. "I go every two or three days," said he.
+And how much oftener, I wonder! thought Daisy: but she said nothing
+more.
+
+No, there was no tangible proof of bad behaviour to be brought against
+him. Not once, during the whole past twelvemonth, had she even seen
+them abroad together. She did not watch Frank as at first; she had
+grown ashamed of that, perhaps a little weary; and she had not once
+been rewarded by the sight of Rosaline. Had that obnoxious individual
+been a myth, she could not have more completely hidden herself from
+her neighbours and from Daisy on a week-day. On Sundays Daisy
+generally saw her at church. The girl would be sitting quietly in her
+pew wearing a plain black silk gown; still, devout, seeming to notice
+no one: had she been training for a nun, the world could not have
+appeared to possess less interest for her. Her black lace veil was
+never lifted from her face: but it could not hide that face's beauty.
+As soon as church was over Rosaline seemed to glide away before any
+one else stirred, and was lost to sight.
+
+In this unsatisfactory manner the seasons had passed, Frank and his
+wife living in an estranged atmosphere, without any acknowledged cause
+for the unhappy state of affairs.
+
+On this self-same evening when Edina was on her way to them, the West
+Indian mail brought a letter to Frank from Mr. Max Brown. That roving
+individual wrote regularly once a month, all his letters being filled,
+more or less, with vague promises of return. Vague, because no certain
+time was ever given. Frank called Eve to light the lamp, and stood by
+the fire in the little parlour whilst he read his letter. It was a
+genial autumn, and very few people had taken to fires; but Daisy ever
+seemed chilly, and liked one lighted at twilight.
+
+"He says he is really coming, Daisy," cried Frank in quick tones as he
+looked over the letter. "Listen: 'I am now positively thinking of
+starting for home, and may be with you soon after the beginning of the
+new year. I know that you have thought my prolonged absence singular,
+but I will explain all in person. My mother is, I fear, sinking!'"
+
+Mrs. Frank Raynor made no reply of any sort. For days together she
+would not speak to her husband, unless something he might say
+absolutely demanded an answer.
+
+"And when Brown comes, we shall have to leave," went on Frank. "You
+will be glad of it, I am sure."
+
+"I don't care whether we leave or not," was the ungracious retort.
+
+And she really did not seem to care. Life, for her, had lost its
+sweetness. Nay, she probably would prefer, of the two, to remain where
+she was. If away, the field would be so free and open for her husband
+and that obnoxious young woman, Rosaline Bell.
+
+"I shall be at liberty, once Brown is here again to take to his own
+practice," continued Frank; "and I will try to place you in a more
+genial atmosphere than this. I know you have felt it keenly, Daisy,
+and are feeling it still; but I have not been able to help myself."
+
+His tone was considerate and tender; he stooped unexpectedly and
+kissed her forehead. Daisy made no response: she passively endured the
+caress, and that was all. The tears sprang to her eyes. Frank did not
+see them: he carried his letter into the surgery, where very much of
+his home time was passed.
+
+His thoughts were far away. Would Mr. Blase Pellet tolerate this
+anticipated removal when it came? Or, would he not rather dodge
+Frank's footsteps and establish himself where he could still keep him
+in view? Yes: Frank felt certain that he would. Unconscious though
+Frank was of his wife's supervision, he felt persuaded in his mind
+that he was ever subjected to that of Blase Pellet. It was not, in one
+sense of the word, offensive; for not once in three months did he and
+Pellet come into contact with each other: but Frank felt always as a
+man chained--who can go as far as the chain allows him, but no
+farther. With all his heart he wished that he could better his
+position for Daisy's sake; had long wished it; but in his sense of
+danger he had been contented to let things go on as they were,
+dreading any attempt at change. Over and over again had he felt
+thankful for the prolonged wanderings of Mr. Max Brown, which afforded
+him the plea for putting up with his present lot.
+
+Daisy set on with her discontented face. A very pretty face still;
+prettier, if anything, than of yore; with the clear eyes and their
+amber light, the delicate bloom on the lovely features, the sunny,
+luxuriant hair. She often dressed daintily, wishing in her secret
+heart, in spite of her resentment, to win back her husband's
+allegiance. This evening she wore a dark blue silk, one of the
+remnants of better days, with some rich white lace falling at the
+throat, on which rested a gold locket, attached to a thin chain. Very,
+very pretty did Edina think her when she arrived, and was brought into
+the room by Frank.
+
+"You never come to see me now," began Daisy, in fretful tones of
+complaint. "I might be dead and buried, for all you or any one else
+would know of it, Edina."
+
+"Ah, no, Margaret, you might not," was Edina's answer. "Not while you
+have Frank at your side. If you really needed us, he would take care
+that we should be sent for."
+
+"All the same, every one neglects me," returned Daisy. "I am glad you
+have thought of me at last."
+
+"I came this evening with a purpose," said Edina: who would not urge
+in excuse the very little time she had to give to visiting, for
+Daisy must be quite aware of it. And she forthwith, loosening her
+bonnet-strings, told Frank of Mr. Street's visit, of its purport, and
+of their own conjectures at Laurel Cottage after the banker had
+departed.
+
+"Why, yes, it was I who emptied that ebony desk," said Frank. "A false
+bottom! I really can't believe it, Edina. Some of us would have found
+it out."
+
+"We cannot doubt Mr. Street. He knew nothing of it himself, you hear,
+until Mr. George Atkinson spoke about it."
+
+"But why in the world did not Atkinson speak about it before? When he
+was last in England these bonds were being hunted for, high and low."
+
+"He says, I tell you, that he forgot all about the desk and its secret
+compartment. But, Frank, we cannot remedy the omission if we talk of
+it for ever; what I wanted to ascertain from you is, whether you
+remember where you left the desk."
+
+"No, that I don't. I remember turning the bills and papers out of it
+wholesale, and carrying them into the room where Mrs. Raynor was
+sitting. As to the desk, I suppose it remained upon the table."
+
+"You are sure you emptied it of all the papers?"
+
+"Quite sure," replied Frank. "I turned the desk upside down and shook
+the papers out, and saw that the desk was quite empty."
+
+"Kate says she saw you do it. But she does not recollect what became
+of the desk."
+
+"Neither do I. No doubt it was left in the room. I dare say it still
+remained there when you all came away from the house."
+
+"Well, it cannot be found," concluded Edina. "I think the probability
+is, that the desk was packed up by the servants and brought away in
+one of the large boxes, and was lost in the fire. If it had remained
+at Eagles' Nest, it would no doubt be there still?"
+
+"Then I suppose they will never find the lost money as long as oak and
+ash grow," observed Frank. "It is a very unsatisfactory thing. George
+Atkinson ought to have remembered and spoken in time."
+
+He was called away into the surgery, and Edina began to retie her
+bonnet-strings. Daisy had picked up some crochet-work.
+
+"Why don't you take your bonnet off, Edina, and stay?"
+
+"Because I must go home, dear."
+
+"Not before you have had some supper. Not stay for it! Why can't you
+stay?"
+
+"I do not like going back so late."
+
+"As if any one would hurt you!"
+
+"I do not fear that. But I am not London bred, you know, Margaret, and
+cannot quite overcome my dislike to London streets at night."
+
+"Oh, very well. No one cares to be with me now."
+
+Edina looked at her. It was not the first indication by several that
+Mrs. Frank Raynor had given of a spirit of discontent.
+
+"Will you tell me what is troubling you, Margaret? Something is, I
+know."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"Because I perceive it. I detect it every time I see you."
+
+"It's nothing at all," returned Daisy--who would not have spoken of
+her jealousy for the world. "That is, nothing that any one could help
+or hinder."
+
+"My dear," said Edina, bending nearer to her, her sweet voice sounding
+like music, "that some grievance or other is especially trying you, I
+think I cannot mistake. But oh, remember one thing, and take comfort.
+In the very brightest and happiest lot, lurks always some sorrow.
+Every rose, however lovely, must have its thorn. We ought not, in the
+true interest of our lives, to wish it otherwise. God sends clouds,
+Margaret, as well as sunshine. He will guard you whilst trouble lasts,
+if you only bear patiently and put yourself under His care; and He
+will bring you out of trouble in His own good time. _Trust to Him_, my
+dear, for He is a sure refuge."
+
+And when Edina had left, Frank escorting her through the more narrow
+streets, Daisy burst into tears, and sobbed bitterly. Indulging this
+jealousy might be very gratifying to her temper; but it had lasted
+long, and at times she felt ill and weak.
+
+"If God cared for me He would punish that Rosaline Bell," was her
+comment on Edina's words. "Lay her up with a broken leg, or
+something."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+UNDER THE CHURCH WALLS.
+
+
+"I cannot buy the bonnet unless you will make the alteration at once.
+Now: so that I may take it home with me in the carriage."
+
+The speaker was Mrs. Townley. Daisy was spending the day with her in
+Westbourne Terrace, and they had come out shopping. Mrs. Townley had
+fallen in love with a bonnet she saw in a milliner's window in Oxford
+Street; she entered the shop and offered to buy the bonnet, subject to
+some alteration. The proprietor of the business seemed rather
+unwilling to make it.
+
+"I assure you, madam, it looks better as it is," she urged. "Were we
+to substitute blue flowers for the grey and carry the side higher, it
+would take away all its style at once."
+
+Mrs. Townley somewhat hesitated. If there was one thing she went in
+for, above all else, it was "style." But she liked to have her own way
+also, and thought a great deal of her own taste.
+
+"Three parts of these milliners object to any suggested alteration
+only to save themselves trouble," she said aside to Daisy. "Don't you
+think it would look better as I propose?"
+
+"I hardly know," replied Daisy. "If we could first see the alteration,
+we might be able to judge."
+
+But, to make the change, unless the bonnet was first bought, Madame
+François, the milliner, absolutely refused. It would ruin it, she
+said, for another customer. Of course she would alter it, if madam
+insisted after purchasing the bonnet; but she must again express her
+opinion that it would spoil its style.
+
+The discussion was carried on with animation, madame's accent being
+decidedly English, in spite of her name. Mrs. Townley still urged her
+own opinion, but less strenuously; for she would not have risked
+losing the "style" for the world.
+
+"I will call my head milliner," said madame at length. "Her taste is
+very superior. Mam'selle, go and ask Miss Bell to step here."
+
+Mam'selle--a young person, evidently French--left her place behind the
+counter and went into another room. Every pulse in Daisy's body seemed
+to tingle to her fingers' ends when she came back with Rosaline.
+Quiet, self-contained, without a smile on her face to betray any
+gladness of heart there might be within, Rosaline gave her opinion
+when the case was submitted to her. She took the bonnet in her hand,
+and kept it there, for a minute, or so, looking at it.
+
+"I think, madame," she said to her mistress, "that if some grey
+flowers of a lighter shade were substituted for these, it would be
+prettier. Blue flowers would spoil the bonnet. As to the side, it
+certainly ought not to be carried higher. It is the right height as it
+is."
+
+"Then take it, and change the flowers at once, Miss Bell," said
+madame, upon Mrs. Townley's signifying her assent to the suggestion.
+"The lady will wait. Miss Bell's taste is always to be depended upon,"
+added madame, as Rosaline went away with the bonnet.
+
+"How extremely good-looking she is!" exclaimed Mrs. Townley: who had
+never seen Rosaline before, and of course knew nothing about her.
+"Quite beautiful."
+
+"Yes," assented madame. "When I engaged her I intended her to be in
+this front-room and wait on customers; for it cannot be denied that
+beauty attracts. But Miss Bell refused, point-blank: she had come to
+be in my work-room, she said, not to serve. Had I insisted, she would
+have left."
+
+"Is she respectable?"
+
+The question came from Daisy. Swelling with all sorts of resentful and
+bitter feelings, she had allowed her anger to get the better of her
+discretion; and the next moment felt ashamed of herself. Madame
+François did not like it at all.
+
+"Res-pect-able!" she echoed with unnecessary deliberation. "I do not
+understand the question, madam."
+
+Daisy flushed crimson. Mrs. Townley had also turned a surprised look
+upon her sister.
+
+"Miss Bell is one of the best-conducted young persons I ever knew,"
+pursued madame. "Steady and quiet in manner at all times, as you saw
+her now. She is very superior indeed; quite a lady in her ways and
+thoughts. Before she came to me, nearly two years ago, she had a
+business of her own down in Cornwall. That is, her aunt had; and Miss
+Bell was with her."
+
+"She looks very superior indeed, to me," said Mrs. Townley, wishing to
+smooth away her sister's uncalled-for remark: "her tones are good.
+Have you any dentelle-de-Paris?"
+
+The bonnet soon reappeared: but it was not brought by Rosaline. Mrs.
+Townley chose some lace; paid the bill, and left. As Daisy followed
+her sister into the carriage, her mind in a very unpleasant whirl, she
+knew that the matter which had puzzled her--never seeing her husband
+abroad with Rosaline--was now explained. Rosaline was here by day; but,
+she supposed, went home at night.
+
+It was so. The reader may remember that one evening when Frank went in
+to see Dame Bell soon after she had come to London, she had told him
+that Rosaline had gone to Oxford Street on some mysterious errand:
+mysterious in so far as that Rose had not disclosed what she went for.
+The fact was, that Rosaline had then gone to this very milliner's by
+appointment, having procured a letter of introduction to her from a
+house of business in Falmouth, with the view of tendering her
+services. For she knew that her mother's income was too small to live
+on comfortably, and it would be well if she could increase it. Madame
+François, pleased with her appearance and satisfied with the letter
+she brought, engaged her at once. Rosaline had been there ever since:
+going up in a morning and returning home at night. The milliner had
+wished her to be entirely in the house, but she could not leave her
+mother.
+
+On this day, as usual, Rosaline sat at her work in the back-room,
+planning out new bonnets--that would be displayed afterwards in the
+window as "the latest fashion from Paris:" and directing the young
+women under her. That she had a wonderful and innate taste for the
+work was recognized by all, and Madame François had speedily made her
+superintendent of the room. The girl, as madame thought, always seemed
+to have some great care upon her: when questioned upon the point,
+Rosaline would answer that she was uneasy respecting the decaying
+health of her mother.
+
+More thoughtful than usual, more buried in the inward life, for the
+appearance of Mrs. Frank Raynor, whom she knew by sight, had brought
+back old reminiscences of Trennach, Rosaline sat to-day at her
+employment until the hours of labour had passed. Generally speaking
+she went home by omnibus, though she sometimes walked. She walked this
+evening: for it was mild and pleasant, and she felt in great need of
+fresh air. So that it was tolerably late when she arrived home: very
+nearly half-past nine.
+
+The first thing to be noticed was, that her mother's chair was empty:
+the room also. Rosaline passed quickly into the bedchamber, and saw
+that her mother had undressed and was in bed.
+
+"Why, mother! what's this for? Are you not well?"
+
+"Not very," sighed the dame. "Your supper is ready for you on the
+table, Rose."
+
+"Never mind my supper, mother," replied Rose, snuffing the candle, and
+putting two or three things straight in the room generally, after
+taking off her bonnet. "Tell me what is the matter with you. Do you
+feel worse?"
+
+"Not much worse--that I know of," was the answer. "But I grew weary,
+and thought I should be better in bed. For the past week, or more, I
+can't get your poor father out of my head, Rose: up or in bed, he is
+always in my mind, and it worries me."
+
+"But you know, mother, this cannot be good for you--as I have said,"
+cried Rosaline: for she had heard the same complaint once or twice
+lately.
+
+"What troubles me is this, child--how did he come by his death? That's
+the question I've wanted answered all along; and now it seems never to
+leave me."
+
+Rosaline drooped her head. No one but herself knew how terribly the
+subject tried her.
+
+"Blase Pellet called in at dusk for a minute or two to see how I was,"
+resumed Mrs. Bell. "When I told him how poor Bell had been haunting my
+mind lately, and how the prolonged mystery of his fate seemed to press
+upon me, he nodded his head like a bobbing image. 'I want to know how
+he came by his death,' I said to him. 'The want is always upon me.' 'I
+could tell, if I chose,' said he, speaking up quickly. 'Then why don't
+you tell? I insist upon your telling,' I answered. Upon that, he drew
+in, and declared he had meant nothing. But it's not the first time he
+has thrown out these hints, Rosaline."
+
+"Blase is a dangerous man," spoke Rosaline, her voice trembling with
+anger. "And he could be a dangerous enemy."
+
+"Well, I don't see why you should say that, Rose. He is neither your
+enemy nor mine. But I should like to know what reason he has for
+saying these things."
+
+"Don't listen to him, mother; don't encourage him here," implored
+Rosaline. "I'm sure it will be better for our peace that he should
+keep away. And now--will you have some arrowroot to-night, or----"
+
+"I won't have anything," interrupted Dame Bell. "I had a bit of supper
+before I undressed and a drop of ale with it. I shall get to sleep if
+I can: and I hope with all my heart that your poor father will not be
+haunting me in my dreams."
+
+Rosaline carried away the candle, and sat down to her own supper in
+the next room. But she could not eat. Mr. Blase Pellet's reported
+words were quite sufficient supper for her, bringing before her all
+too vividly the horror of that dreadful night. Would this state of
+thraldom in which she lived ever cease, she asked herself; would she
+ever again, as long as the world should last for her, know an hour
+that was not tinged with its fatal remembrances and the fears
+connected with them.
+
+In the morning her mother said she was better, and rose as usual. This
+was Saturday. When Rosaline reached home in the afternoon, earlier
+than on other days, she found her stirring about at some active
+housework. But on the Sunday morning she remained in bed, confessing
+that she felt very poorly. Rosaline wanted to call in Mr. Raynor: but
+her mother told her not to be silly; she was not ill enough for that.
+
+The internal disorder which afflicted Mrs. Bell, and would eventually
+be her death, was making slow but sure progress. Frank Raynor--and his
+experience was pretty extensive now--had never known a similar case
+develop so lingeringly. He thought she might have a year or two's life
+in her yet. Still, it was impossible to say: a change might occur at
+any moment.
+
+On this Sunday afternoon, when she and Rosaline were sitting together
+after dinner, Mr. Blase Pellet walked in. Rosaline only wished she
+could walk out. She would far rather have done so. But she forced
+herself to be civil to him.
+
+"Look here," said Blase, taking a newspaper out of his pocket when he
+had sat some minutes. "This advertisement must concern those Raynors
+that you know of. I'll read it to you."
+
+"'Lost. Lost. A small carved ebony desk. Was last seen at Eagles' Nest
+in the month of June more than two years ago. Any one giving
+information of where it may be found, or bringing it to Mr. Street,
+solicitor, of Lawyers' Row, shall receive ten guineas reward.'
+
+"Those Raynors, you know, came into the Eagles' Nest property, and
+then had to turn out of it again," added Blase.
+
+"Ten guineas reward for an ebony desk!" commented Mrs. Bell. "I wonder
+what was in it?"
+
+Blase did not receive an invitation to stay tea this afternoon, though
+he probably expected it. However, he was not one to intrude unwished
+for, and took his departure.
+
+"I had a great mind to ask him what he meant by the remark he made the
+other evening about your poor father," said Mrs. Bell to Rosaline as
+he went out.
+
+"Oh, mother, let it be!" exclaimed Rosaline in piteous tones, her pale
+face turning hectic. "He cannot know anything that would bring peace
+to you or me."
+
+"Well, I should like my tea now," said Dame Bell. "And I should have
+asked him to stay, Rose, but for your ungracious looks."
+
+Rosaline busied herself with the tea, which they took almost in
+silence. While putting the things away afterwards, Rosaline made some
+remark: which was not answered. Supposing her mother did not hear, she
+spoke again. Still there came no reply, and Rose looked round. Mrs.
+Bell was lying back on the sofa, apparently insensible.
+
+"It was the pain, child," she breathed, when Rosaline had revived her;
+but she had not quite fainted; "the sharp, sudden pain here. I never
+had it, I think, as badly as that."
+
+Like a ghost she was still, with a pinched look in her face. Rosaline
+was frightened. Without saying anything to her mother, she wrote a
+hasty line to Frank, to ask if he would come round, twisted it up
+three-cornered fashion, and despatched it by the landlady's daughter.
+
+The note arrived just as Frank Raynor and his wife were beginning to
+think of setting out for evening service. Frank chanced to have gone
+into a small back-room near the kitchen, where he kept his store of
+drugs, and Daisy was alone when Sam came in, the note held between his
+fingers.
+
+"For master, please, ma'am; and it is to be given to him directly."
+
+With an impatient word--for Daisy knew what these hastily-written,
+unsealed missives meant, and she did not care to go to church at night
+alone--she untwisted it, and read the contents.
+
+
+"Dear Mr. Raynor,
+
+"If you could possibly come round this evening, I should be very much
+obliged to you. My mother has been taken suddenly worse, and I do not
+like her looks at all.
+
+"Very truly yours,
+
+"R. B."
+
+
+"The shameless thing!" broke forth Mrs. Frank Raynor in her rising
+anger. "She writes to him exactly as if she were his equal!"
+
+Folding the note again, she threw it on the table, and went upstairs
+to put on her bonnet. It did not take her long. Frank was only
+returning to the parlour as she went down.
+
+"Oh," said he, opening the note and reading it, "then I can't go with
+you to-night, Daisy. I am called out."
+
+No answer.
+
+"I will take you to the church-door and leave you there," he added,
+tossing the note into the fire.
+
+"Of course you could not stay the service with me and attend to your
+patient afterwards!" cried Daisy, not attempting to suppress the
+sarcasm in her tone.
+
+"No, I cannot do that. It is Mrs. Bell I am called to."
+
+"Oh! Of all people _she_ must not be neglected."
+
+"Right, Daisy. I would neglect the whole list of patients rather than
+Mrs. Bell."
+
+He spoke impulsively, pained by her look and tone. But had he taken
+time to think, he would not have avowed so much. The avowal meant
+nothing--at least, as Daisy interpreted it. But for him, Francis
+Raynor, Mrs. Bell's husband might have been living now. This lay on
+his conscience, and rendered him doubly solicitous for the poor widow.
+To Frank it had always seemed that, in a degree, she had belonged to
+him since that fatal night.
+
+But Daisy knew nothing of this; and the impression the words made upon
+her was unfortunate, for she could only see matters from her own
+distorted point of view. It was for Rosaline's sake he was anxious for
+the mother, reasoned her mind, and it had now come to the shameful
+pass that he did not hesitate to declare it--even to her, his wife!
+Perhaps the woman was not even ill--the girl had resorted to this ruse
+that they might spend an evening together!
+
+She kept her face turned to the fire lest he should see her agitation:
+she pressed her hands upon her chest, to still its laboured breathing.
+Frank was putting on his overcoat, for it was a cool night, and
+noticed nothing. Thus they started: Daisy refusing to take his arm, on
+the plea of holding up her dress: refusing to let him carry her
+Prayer-book; giving no reply to the few remarks he made. The church
+bells were chiming, the stars were bright in the frosty sky.
+
+Under the silence and gloom of the church walls, away from the lights
+inside and out, Frank stopped, and laid his hand upon his wife's.
+
+"You are vexed, Daisy, because I cannot go to church; but when my
+patients really need me I must not and will not neglect them. For a
+long time now you have seemed to live in a state of constant
+discontent and resentment against me. What the cause is, I know not. I
+do not give you any, as far as I am aware. If it is that you are
+dissatisfied with our present position--and I am not surprised that
+you should be--I can only say how much for your sake I regret that I
+cannot alter it. But that is what I am not yet able to do; and to find
+your vexation constantly turned upon me is hard to bear. Let us,
+rather, look forward to better days, and cheer on one another with the
+hope."
+
+He wrung her hand and turned away. His voice had been so loving and
+tender, and yet so full of pain, that Daisy found her eyes wet with
+sudden tears. She went into church. What with resentment against her
+husband, her own strong sense of misery, and this softened mood, life
+seemed very sad to her that night.
+
+And as the service proceeded, and the soothing tones of the sweet
+chant chosen for the _Magnificat_ fell on her ear and heart, the mood
+grew more and more softened. Daisy cried in her lonely pew. Hiding her
+face when she knelt she let the tears rain down. A vision came over
+her of a possible happy future: of Frank's love restored to her as by
+some miracle; of Rosaline Bell and these wretched troubles, lost in
+the memory of the past; of the world being fair for them again, and
+she and her husband walking hand in hand, down the stream of time.
+Poor Daisy let her veil fall when she rose, that her swollen eyes
+should not be seen.
+
+And the sermon soothed her too. The text was one that she especially
+loved: "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I
+will give you rest." Daisy thought none had ever been so heavily laden
+before as she was; just as the lightly chastened are apt to think.
+
+"If I can only be a little more pleasant with him, and have patience,"
+said she to herself, "who knows but things may work round again."
+
+But the heart of man is rebellious, as all the world knows; especially
+rebellious is the heart of woman, when it is filled with jealous
+fancies. The trouble to which Mrs. Frank Raynor was subjected might
+bear precious fruit in the future, but it was not effecting much good
+in the present. No sooner was she out of church, and the parson's
+impressive voice and the sweet singing had faded on her ear, than all
+the old rancour came rushing up to the surface again.
+
+"I wonder if he is there still?" she thought. "Most likely. I wish I
+could find out!"
+
+Instead of turning her steps homeward, she turned them towards West
+Street, and paced twice before the house that contained Dame Bell and
+her daughter. A light shone behind the white window blind, indicating
+the probability that the room had inmates; but Daisy could not see who
+they were. She turned towards home, and had almost reached it when
+Frank came hastily out of the surgery, a bottle of medicine in his
+hand.
+
+"Is it you, Daisy? I began to think you were late. I meant to come to
+the church and fetch you, but found I could not."
+
+"Shall I walk with you?" asked Daisy, trying to commence carrying out
+the good resolutions she had made in church, and perhaps somewhat
+pacified by his words. "It is a fine night."
+
+For answer he took her hand, and placed it within his arm. Ah, never
+would there have been a better husband than Frank Raynor, if she had
+only met him kindly.
+
+"Who is the medicine for?" asked Daisy.
+
+"For Dame Bell. I am walking fast, Daisy, but she ought to have it
+without delay."
+
+"Have you been with her all this time?"
+
+"Yes. I was coming away when she had a sort of fainting-fit, the
+second this evening; and it took more than half-an hour to get her
+round."
+
+"She is really ill, then?"
+
+"Really ill!" echoed Frank in surprise. "Why, Daisy, she is dying. I
+do not mean dying to-night," he added; "or likely to die immediately;
+but that which she is suffering from will gradually kill her. My uncle
+suspected from the first what it would turn out to be."
+
+Daisy said no more, and the house was gained. As Frank rang the bell,
+she left his arm and went a few steps away; beyond sight of any one
+who might open the door, but not beyond hearing of any conversation
+that might take place.
+
+Rosaline appeared. Frank put the bottle into her hand.
+
+"I brought it round myself, Rosaline, that I might be sure it came
+quickly. Has there been another fainting-fit?"
+
+"No, not another, Mr. Frank," replied Rosaline. "She is in bed now and
+seems tranquil."
+
+"Well, give her a dose of this without delay."
+
+"Very well, sir. I--I wish you would tell me the truth," she went on
+in a somewhat agitated voice.
+
+"The truth as to what?"
+
+"Whether she is much worse? Dangerously so."
+
+"No, I assure you she is not: not materially so, if you mean that. Of
+course--as you know yourself, Rosaline, or I should not speak of it to
+you--she will grow worse and worse with time."
+
+"I do know it, sir, unfortunately."
+
+"But I think it will be very gradual; neither sudden nor alarming.
+This evening's weakness seems to me to be quite exceptional. She must
+have been either exerting or exciting herself: I said so upstairs."
+
+"True. It is excitement. But I did not like to say so before her. For
+the past few days she has been complaining that my father worries
+her," continued Rosaline, dropping her voice to a whisper. "She says
+he seems to be in her mind night and day: asleep, she dreams of him;
+she dwells on him. And oh, what a dreadful thing it all is!"
+
+"Hush, Rosaline!" whispered Frank in the same cautious tones: and as
+Daisy's ears could not catch the conversation now, she of course
+thought the more. "The fancy will subside. At times, you know, she has
+had it before."
+
+"Blase Pellet excites her. I know he does. Only the other day he said
+something or other."
+
+"I wish Blase Pellet was transported!" cried Frank quickly. "But
+it--it cannot be helped, Rosaline. Give your mother half a wine-glass
+of this mixture at once."
+
+"I am so much obliged to you for all, sir," she gently said, as he
+shook hands with her. "Oh, and I beg your pardon for asking another
+question," she added as he was turning away. "I have been thinking
+that I ought perhaps to leave my situation and stay at home with my
+mother. I always meant to do so when she grew worse. Do you see any
+necessity for it?"
+
+"Not yet. Later of course you must do it: and perhaps it might be as
+well that you should be at home to-morrow, though the people of the
+house are attentive to her. You may rely upon me to tell you when the
+necessity arrives."
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Frank. Good-night."
+
+"Good-night, Rose."
+
+Frank held out his arm to his wife. She took it, and they walked home
+together. But this time she was very chary in answering any remark he
+made, and did not herself volunteer one. The interview she had just
+witnessed had only served to augment the sense of treason that filled
+the heart of Mrs. Frank Raynor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+MEETING AGAIN.
+
+
+Time flew on. Summer had come round again: and it was now close upon
+three years since Mrs. Raynor and her children had quitted Eagles'
+Nest. Certainly, affairs could not be said to be progressing with
+them. The past winter and spring had again brought trouble. The three
+younger children were attacked with scarlatina, and it had left Kate
+so long ill that much care had to be taken with her. Mrs. Raynor was
+laid up at the same time for several weeks with bronchitis; and the
+whole nursing fell upon Edina.
+
+With so much on her hands, and Mrs. Raynor invalided, Edina could not
+continue to do the work which helped to keep them. A little of it she
+continued to take, but it was very little: and she had to sit up at
+night and steal hours from her rest to accomplish even so much. This
+did not please the people who supplied her with it; they evidently did
+not care to continue to supply her at all; and when things came round
+again, and she and Mrs. Raynor would have been glad to do the same
+quantity of work as before, the work was not forthcoming. Their
+employment failed.
+
+Such, in these early days of June, was the state of affairs: the
+family pinching and starving more than ever, Charles wearing out his
+days at the office, Alice teaching at Mrs. Preen's. Never had the
+future looked so dark as it was looking now.
+
+One day when they were at dinner, Alice came in. Perhaps the little
+pinched faces around the scanty board--and both Kate's and Robert's
+looked pinched--struck unpleasantly upon Alice, for she was evidently
+in less good spirits than usual. She had come down by the omnibus, and
+taken them by surprise.
+
+An idea, like a fear, flashed into the mind of Mrs. Raynor. It was so
+very unusual for Alice to come down in this unexpected manner. "You
+have brought bad news, child!" she faintly said. "What is it?"
+
+And, for answer, Alice burst into tears. The knowledge of their home
+privations was to her as a very nightmare, for she had a warm heart.
+What with that and other thoughts, her spirits were always more or
+less subdued.
+
+"I don't know how to tell you," she cried; "but it is what I have come
+to do. Mamma, I am going to leave Mrs. Preen's."
+
+Mrs. Raynor sank back in her chair. "Oh, child! For what reason?"
+
+Alice explained as she dried her eyes. Mrs. Preen, who had not been in
+strong health lately, was ordered for a lengthened term to her native
+place, Devonshire, where she would stay with her mother. She could not
+take her two elder children with her, neither did she care to leave
+them at home during her absence. So they were to be placed at school,
+and Alice had received notice to leave at the end of a month.
+
+"If I were sure of getting another situation at once, I would not mind
+it so much," she said. "But it is the uncertainty that frightens me. I
+cannot afford to be out of a situation."
+
+"Misfortunes never come alone," sighed Mrs. Raynor.
+
+"Let us hope for the best," said Edina. "A whole month is a good
+while, Alice, and we can make inquiries for you at once. Perhaps Mr.
+Jones at the library can hear of something. I will speak to him: he is
+very kind and obliging."
+
+"Do you ever come across that Bill Stane now, Alice?" cried Alfred, as
+he picked up his cap to go off to school. "We saw in the paper that
+Sir Philip was dead. That is, we saw something about his will."
+
+"He comes now and then to Mrs. Preen's," replied Alice, blushing
+vividly, for she could not hear William Stane's name without emotion.
+"What did you see about Sir Philip's will?" she added, as carelessly
+as she could speak.
+
+"Oh, I don't know--how his money was left, I think Charley reckoned up
+that Bill Stane would have ten thousand pounds to his share. Charley
+says he is getting on at the Bar like a house on fire."
+
+"Shall you not be late, Alfred?"
+
+"I am off now. Good-bye; Alice. It will be jolly, you know, if you
+come home."
+
+"Not jolly for the dinners," put in poor Katie, who had learnt by sad
+experience what a difference an extra one made.
+
+"Oh, bother the dinners!" cried Alfred, with all a schoolboy's
+improvidence. "I'll eat bread-and-cheese. Goodbye, Alice."
+
+"Did you chance to hear what Sir Philip died of, Alice?" questioned
+Mrs. Raynor, when the doors had done banging after Alfred.
+
+"No, mamma."
+
+"But you see William Stane sometimes, don't you?"
+
+"Yes, I see Mr. Stane now and then. Not often. He has not said
+anything about his father in my hearing. When I first went to Mrs.
+Preen's he was very cold and distant; but lately he has been much more
+friendly. But we do not often meet."
+
+"Well, child, I can only say how unfortunate it is that you should
+lose your situation. It may be so difficult to get another."
+
+Another matter, that had been giving Mrs. Raynor and Edina concern for
+some little time, was the education of the children. Alfred ought now
+to go to a better school; Robert ought to be at one. The child was
+eight years old. Sometimes it had crossed Edina's mind to wish he
+could be got into Christ's Hospital: she thought it high time, now
+that Alice was coming home, to think about it practically. If poor
+little Bob could be admitted there, it would make room for Alice.
+
+Talking it over with Mrs. Raynor and Charles that same evening, it was
+decided that the first step towards it must be to obtain a list of the
+governors. It might be that one of that body had known something of
+Major Raynor in the days gone by, and would help his little son. How
+was the list to be procured? They knew not, and went to bed pondering
+the question.
+
+"I will go to the library and ask Mr. Jones," said Edina the next
+morning. "Perhaps he has one."
+
+Mr. Jones had not a list, but thought he knew where he could borrow
+one. And he did so, and left it at the door in the after-part of the
+day. Edina sat down to study it.
+
+"Here is a name almost at the beginning that we know," she said,
+looking up with a smile.
+
+"Is there!" exclaimed Charles, with animation, and taking an
+imaginative view of Robert, yellow-stockinged and bareheaded. "Whose
+name is it, Edina?"
+
+"George Atkinson, Esquire, Eagles' Nest," read out Edina.
+
+"How unfortunate!" exclaimed Mrs. Raynor. "The very man to whom we
+cannot apply."
+
+"The very man to whom we will apply," corrected Edina. "If you will
+not do so, Mary, I will."
+
+"Would you ask a favour of _him?_"
+
+"Yes," said Edina emphatically. "Mr. Atkinson has not behaved well to
+you: let us put it in his power to make some slight reparation."
+
+"Edina, I--I hope I am not uncharitable or unforgiving, but I do not
+feel that I _can_ ask him," breathed poor Mrs. Raynor.
+
+"But I don't want you to ask him, Mary; I will do that," returned
+Edina. "Perhaps I shall not _like_ doing it more than you would; but
+the thought of poor little Robert will give me courage."
+
+"Those governors have only a presentation once in three years, I
+fancy," observed Charles. "George Atkinson may have given away his
+next turn."
+
+"We can only ascertain, Charley. And now--I wonder how we are to find
+his address? I hope he is in England!"
+
+"He is at Eagles' Nest, Edina."
+
+"At Eagles' Nest!" repeated Edina.
+
+"He took possession of it six months ago, and gave Fairfax, who was in
+it, a house close by. And I know he is there still, for only a day or
+two ago I saw Preen address a letter to him."
+
+"Well, I am glad to hear it, for now I shall go to him instead of
+writing," concluded Edina. "In these cases a personal application is
+generally of more use than a written one. And, Mary, you will, at any
+rate, wish me God speed."
+
+"With my whole heart," replied Mrs. Raynor.
+
+
+Once mere Edina Raynor stood before the gates of Eagles' Nest. As she
+walked from the station, the great alteration in the place struck her.
+Not in Eagles' Nest itself: that looked the same as ever: but in its
+surroundings. The land was well-cared for and flourishing; the
+cottages had been renovated into decent and healthy tenements; the row
+of ugly skeletons had been completed; all were filled with contented
+inhabitants; and the men and women that Edina saw about as she passed,
+looked respectable and happy. None could look on the estate of Eagles'
+Nest as it was now, and not see how good and wise was its ruler.
+
+"Is Mr. Atkinson at home?" asked Edina, as a servant whom she did not
+know answered her ring.
+
+"He is at home, ma'am, but I do not think you can see him," was the
+answer. "Mr. Atkinson is very unwell, and does not see visitors."
+
+"I think he will perhaps see me," said Edina. And she took a leaf from
+her pocket-book, and wrote down her name, adding that she wished to
+see him very much.
+
+The man showed her to a room. He came back immediately, and ushered
+her into his master's presence. As she entered, George Atkinson rose
+from a sofa on which he had been lying near the window, and went
+forward to meet her.
+
+"Edina!"
+
+The old familiar name from the once loved lips--nay, perhaps loved
+still: who knew?--in the old familiar voice, brought a tremor to her
+heart and a tear to her eye. Mr. Atkinson handed her to a chair and
+sat down in another. The window stood open to the delicious summer
+air, the morning sunshine--for Edina had come early, and it was not
+yet much past eleven--to the charming landscape that lay stretched
+around in the distance. But the impulse that had prompted the warm
+greeting seemed to die away again, and he addressed her more coldly
+and calmly.
+
+"Your coming here this morning seems to me to be a very singular
+coincidence. You see that letter on the table, just ready for the
+post: have the kindness to read the address."
+
+Edina did so. It bore her own name: and was addressed to the "Care of
+Charles Raynor, Messrs. Prestleigh and Preen's."
+
+"I did not know your address. That it was somewhere in or near London,
+I did know, but not the exact locality. The letter contains only a
+request that you would kindly come down to me here."
+
+"I!" exclaimed Edina.
+
+"Yes. I wanted to see you. But I will ring for my housekeeper to show
+you to a room where you can take your bonnet off.
+
+"I have not come to remain," replied Edina. "Half-an-hour will be more
+than enough to transact my business with you.
+
+"But half-an-hour will not transact mine with you. Remain the day with
+me," he pleaded, "and enliven a poor invalid for a short time." And
+Edina made no further objection.
+
+When she returned to the room, looking cool and fresh in her summer
+muslin, old though it might be, with her brown hair braided from her
+pleasant face, and the brown eyes sweet and earnest as of yore, George
+Atkinson thought how little, how very little she was altered. It is
+these placid faces that do not change. Neither had he changed very
+much. He looked ill, and wore a beard now; a silky brown beard; but
+his face and eyes and voice were the same. And somehow, now that she
+was in his presence, heard that musical voice, and met the steadfast,
+kindly look in the grey eyes, she almost forgot her resentment against
+him for his conduct to the Raynors.
+
+"You are a governor of Christ's Hospital, I believe," she began,
+entering upon her business at once as she resumed her seat.
+
+"I am."
+
+"I came here to ask for your next presentation to it. Is it promised?"
+
+"Not yet. It falls due next year."
+
+"Then will you promise it to me?" continued Edina. "It is for the
+youngest child of Mrs. Raynor. Will you give it to him?"
+
+"No."
+
+"No!" she repeated, tone and spirit falling with the disappointment.
+"But why not?"
+
+"I have a boy in my eye who is badly in want of it: more than Mrs.
+Raynor's son will be."
+
+"It is almost impossible that any boy can want it more than poor
+Robert does."
+
+"In that matter our opinions differ, Miss Raynor."
+
+"And it would be making some trifling reparation to the family."
+
+"Reparation for what?"
+
+"For--what you did," answered Edina, hesitating for a moment and then
+speaking up bravely. "For turning them out of Eagles' Nest."
+
+"What would you have done in my place?" questioned Mr. Atkinson
+good-humouredly. "Have left them in quiet possession of Eagles' Nest?"
+
+"I--don't--know--whether I should, or not," hesitated Edina, for the
+question puzzled her. "Of course Eagles' Nest was legally yours, and I
+cannot say you were wrong to take it. But I think you might in some
+way have softened the blow. _I_ could not have turned a family from
+their home and not inquired how they were to live in the future."
+
+"I am aware you could not: for, unless I am mistaken, it was you who
+provided them with another. The Raynors wanted a lesson read to them,
+and it was well they should have it. What did I find when I came home;
+what did I hear? Was there a single good act done by any one of them
+whilst they were at Eagles' Nest? How did they use the property they
+came into: well?--or disgracefully? Yes, I repeat it, disgracefully.
+Things were going to rack and ruin. The poor tenants were ground down
+to the dust, the uttermost farthing of rent was exacted from them,
+whilst they were uncared for; body and soul alike abandoned, to get
+through life as they could, or to perish. And all for what?--to add to
+the pride, the folly and the prodigality of the Raynors. Could you
+approve of all this, Edina, or find excuse for it?"
+
+She shook her head in the negative. He seemed to have called her Edina
+again unconsciously.
+
+"It was self with them all; nothing but self, from Major Raynor
+downwards," he continued. "Show, extravagance, and vanity! Not a sound
+moral, or prudent, or worthy aim was inculcated on the children, not a
+penny given away in charity. Charles Raynor, the supposed heir, was an
+apt pupil in all this. He even had writs out against him, though he
+was under age."
+
+Edina could not gainsay a word. It was all too true. "You had this
+reported to you on your return, I presume, Mr. Atkinson?"
+
+"I had. But I did not take the report uncorroborated. I came down
+here, and saw for myself I was here for many weeks, watching."
+
+Edina felt surprised. "How could that have been? The Raynors did not
+see you?"
+
+"I came down unknown. No one knew me in the place, and I stayed on in
+my lodgings at Jetty the carpenter's and looked about me. The natives
+took me for an inquisitive man who was fond of poking himself into
+matters that did not concern him; a second Paul Pry. Mr. Charles
+Raynor, I heard, christened me the Tiger," added the speaker, with a
+smile.
+
+Edina held her breath. What a singular revelation it was!
+
+"I was in Australia when I heard that Mrs. Atkinson had left Eagles'
+Nest to me," he resumed. "The news reached me in a letter from
+herself, written only a day or two before her death; written chiefly
+to tell me where her will would be found--in the hands of my
+solicitors, Callard and Prestleigh. She also stated that a duplicate
+copy of the will was kept in this, her own house. But that, I think,
+must have been a mistake."
+
+"Had one been here, it would have been found at the time of her
+death," remarked Edina.
+
+"Just so. When this letter of hers arrived at Sydney," continued Mr.
+Atkinson, "I was travelling in the more remote and unfrequented parts
+of the country, and I did not receive it for some six months
+afterwards, on my return to Sydney. Rather an accumulation of letters
+awaited me at Sydney, as you may suppose; and I found, by those from
+my partner, Street, and his brother the lawyer, that the former will
+was alone known to exist, and that Major Raynor had entered into
+possession of Eagles' Nest. Now what did I at once resolve to do? Why,
+to leave him in possession of it; never to speak of this later will,
+but destroy it when I got back to England, and say nothing about it.
+The major had a right to Eagles' Nest; I had not any right at all to
+it: and the resolve did not cost me a moment's thought----"
+
+"It is just as I should have expected you to act," put in Edina, her
+cheeks flushing.
+
+"Don't give me more credit than I deserve, Miss Raynor. I cannot tell
+what I might have done had I been a poor man. Kept the estate,
+perhaps. But I was a rich one, and I did not want it. I sailed for
+England; and, on landing, went direct to London, to Street the
+banker's, arriving there at night. He chanced to be at home alone; his
+wife and children were at Brighton, and we had a few hours' quiet
+chat. The first thing I heard of, was the miserable state of affairs
+down here. Eagles' Nest was going to ruin, Street said, and the major
+and his son were probably going to ruin with it. 'I will go down
+incog. and see for myself,' I said to Street, 'and you need not tell
+any one of my return at present.' I did go down, as I have told you:
+went down the next day; and Street kept counsel as to my having
+returned to Europe, and when he wrote to me at Grassmere, addressed
+his letters to 'Mr. George.' There I stayed, looking about at my
+leisure."
+
+"How was it my uncle Francis did not recognize you?"
+
+"He never saw me. At first I kept out of his way lest he should do so;
+but I soon learnt that there was little chance of our meeting, as he
+never went beyond his own gates. Had he met me, I don't think he would
+have known me, my beard altered me so much; and I always pulled my
+broad-brimmed hat well on. No, I felt quite easy, and remained on
+until my purpose was answered."
+
+He paused, as if recalling the scenes of that past time. Edina made no
+remark. Presently he resumed.
+
+"What I saw here shocked me. I could not detect one redeeming point in
+the conduct of Major Raynor and his family, though I assure you I
+should have been glad to do so. To leave the estate in their hands
+would be little less than a sin, as I looked upon it, and a cruel
+wrong upon the poor people who lived on it. So I deliberated on my
+measures, and finally took them. Edwin Street announced my speedy
+return, and conveyed a letter from me (apparently written in
+Australia) to Callard and Prestleigh, informing them that they held
+the will, and ordering them to produce it, that it might be proved and
+acted upon. I was more than justified in what I did, as I thought
+then," emphatically concluded Mr. Atkinson, "and as I think now."
+
+"Well--yes, I cannot say you were not," acquiesced Edina. "But it
+seemed to us so bitterly hard--never to inquire what became of the
+Raynors; never to offer them any help."
+
+"Stay," said he. "I did inquire. I heard that Miss Edina Raynor had
+come forward from Trennach with her help, and had established Mrs.
+Raynor in a school in which she was likely to do well. I heard that
+Charles Raynor was about to be taken by the hand by an old friend of
+his father's, one Colonel Cockburn, who meant to put him forward in
+the world. In short, I left England again in the belief that the
+Raynors were, in a smaller way, as prosperous as they had been at
+Eagles' Nest."
+
+"What misapprehensions exist!" exclaimed Edina. "That home was soon
+lost again through a fire, and Colonel Cockburn only saw Charles to
+tell him he could not help him. Their life for the last three years
+has been one long course of humiliation, poverty and privation."
+
+"Ay! and you have voluntarily shared it with them," he answered,
+looking straight into her eyes. "Well, they needed the lesson. But I
+would have been a friend to Charles Raynor had he allowed me, and not
+shown himself so haughtily upstart; and to his cousin the doctor also.
+When Charles was in a mess at Eagles' Nest, in danger of being
+arrested for debt, I asked him to confide his trouble to me and let me
+help him. Not a bit of it. He flung my words back in my face with as
+much scorn as if I had been a dog. So I let him go his own way: though
+I privately settled the debt for him. Had he known who I was, and that
+I had power to eject him and his family from their heritage, I could
+have understood his behaviour: but that was impossible, and I think I
+never met with so bad an example of conduct shown to a stranger. Yes:
+Charles Raynor needed a lesson read to him, and he has had it."
+
+"Indeed he has. They all have. Charles Raynor is as true and good a
+young man now as he was once thoughtless and self-sufficient. There
+will be no fear of his lapsing in this life."
+
+"I saw him a year ago in Preen's office," remarked Mr. Atkinson, "and
+liked his tones. Preen gives me an excellent account of him and his
+sister."
+
+"They deserve it," said Edina. "But oh, you do not know what a
+struggle it is for us all," she added, her voice almost broken by
+emotion, "or what a boon it would be to get Robert into the Bluecoat
+School. If you did, I think you would grant it me."
+
+"No, I should not," persisted he, smiling. "The presentation falls due
+next year; and by that time little Raynor will not want it. He may be
+back here again at Eagles' Nest."
+
+Edina gazed at him. "What do you mean?" she gasped.
+
+"I have not had particularly strong health--as you know; but a couple
+of months ago I was so ill as to fear the worst. It caused me to wish
+to revise my will, and to consider certain of its provisions. I think
+I shall leave Eagles' Nest to you."
+
+"I won't have it," cried Edina, bursting into tears. "I will not. How
+can you be so unjust, Mr. Atkinson? What right have I to Eagles'
+Nest?"
+
+"Right! You have shared your home with the Raynors when it was a
+humble one--for the home is virtually yours, I am told: you can do the
+like, you know, when you become rich."
+
+"I will not have Eagles' Nest," she cried. "It is of no use to think
+of such a thing, for I will not. I have told you the Raynors are
+worthy of it themselves."
+
+He almost laughed at her alarm; at the frightened earnestness with
+which she spoke.
+
+"Well, well, the bequest is not made," he said in a changed tone; and
+an idea flashed over Edina that he had only been joking with her.
+"Very thankful I am to say that health and strength appear to be
+returning to me; the doctors think I have taken a turn, and shall soon
+be quite well again; better than I have been for years. So, as my
+death seems improbable, I have thought of making over Eagles' Nest to
+Charles Raynor by deed of gift. That request for your presence here,"
+glancing at the letter on the table, "was to ask you whether he was so
+changed in heart and conduct that it might safely be done."
+
+"Oh yes, indeed he is," responded Edina, drying her happy tears. "I
+told you so before I knew of this, and I told you only the truth."
+
+"I fully believe you. But I must have an interview with him. Let him
+come down here on Saturday and remain with me until Monday morning. If
+I find that he may be fully trusted for the future, in a short time he
+and his mother will be back at Eagles' Nest. London will be hereafter
+my chief home. They shall come and see me there when they please: and
+I shall doubtless be welcome to come here occasionally."
+
+"And you do not intend to go wandering again?"
+
+"Never again. I have had enough of it. It may be, that I should have
+enjoyed better health had I been contented to take more rest. I have
+purchased the lease of a house in London, to which I shall remove on
+quitting Eagles' Nest. I am also looking out for some snug little
+property in this neighbourhood--which I have learned to like--and,
+when I can find it, shall purchase that."
+
+"How was it," asked Edina, "that you did not take possession of
+Eagles' Nest when the Raynors left it? We were told you would do so."
+
+George Atkinson smiled. "I had seen enough of Eagles' Nest while
+staying at Jetty's. And perhaps I did not care to be recognized
+immediately by the community for that same prying individual."
+
+"Have the lost bonds been found?"
+
+"No. I feel more than ever convinced that they are in the ebony desk.
+Unless, indeed, your aunt left no money behind her; in which case
+there would of course be no bonds anywhere. I begin to think that
+whoever has the desk must have found and used the bonds."
+
+"You have not heard of the desk?"
+
+"No. The advertisements Street inserted in the newspapers brought
+forth no more result than the previous inquiries."
+
+"Perhaps if a larger reward had been offered?" said Edina. "We thought
+the sum small."
+
+"Ten guineas was the sum offered first; twenty afterwards. I suggested
+increasing it to fifty, or a hundred: but the cautious lawyers said
+no. Such a reward offered for a desk, would have betrayed that it
+contained something of value--if the possessor of the desk had not
+already found that out for himself. It was certainly singular that I
+should not have thought to ask whether the secret compartment of that
+desk had been searched when I first knew the bonds were being looked
+for; but I did not. It altogether escaped my memory."
+
+A servant came in to lay the cloth for dinner: since his illness Mr.
+Atkinson had taken that meal at one o'clock. The tears rose to Edina's
+eyes as she sat down to the abundant table, and a choking sensation to
+her throat. George Atkinson noticed her emotion.
+
+"What is it, Edina?"
+
+"I was only wishing I could transport some of this to London," she
+answered, glancing at him through her wet eyelashes with a smile.
+
+They sat at the open window again after dinner, talking of the past
+and the future, and Edina stayed to make tea for him--which came in
+early. As she put her hand into his, on saying farewell, he left a
+small case of money in it.
+
+"Shall you be too proud to accept it for them?"
+
+"I have not any pride," answered Edina with a grateful smile. "If I
+ever had any, the experience of the past three years has taken it out
+of me."
+
+"I never intended to keep Eagles' Nest," he whispered. "I think you
+might have divined that, Edina. You knew me well once."
+
+"And suppose Charles Raynor had continued to be unworthy?"
+
+"Then Eagles' Nest would have passed away from him for ever. Its
+inheritor would have been Edina."
+
+
+The evening was getting on at Mrs. Raynor's. Charles, who had been
+detained late at the office was sitting down to his frugal supper,
+which had been kept warm over the fire, and little Robert was in bed.
+They had been saying how late Edina was. Mrs. Raynor had a very bad
+headache.
+
+"Let me place that cushion more comfortably for you mamma," said
+Charles.
+
+"It will do very well as it is, my dear," she answered. "Get your
+supper: you must want it."
+
+"Oh, not very much," said Charles, making a pretence of eating slowly,
+to conceal his hunger. "Alfred, do be quiet!--don't you know mamma is
+ill? Kate, sit down."
+
+"There's Edina!" cried Alfred, clattering out to meet her in the
+passage.
+
+She came in, looking pleased and gay, with sundry parcels in her hand.
+Kate and Alfred jumped round her.
+
+"How have you sped, Edina?" asked Mrs. Raynor. "Has George Atkinson
+given Robert the presentation?"
+
+"No; he will not give it him."
+
+"I feared so. He must be altogether a hard-hearted man. May Heaven
+have mercy upon us!"
+
+"It will, it will," said Edina. "I have always told you so."
+
+She was undoing the papers. The young eyes regarding them were opened
+to their utmost width. Had a fairy been out with Edina? Buns,
+chocolate, a jar of marmalade, a beautiful pat of butter, and--what
+could be in that other parcel?
+
+"Open it, Charley," said Edina.
+
+He had left his supper to look on with the others, and did as he was
+told. Out tumbled a whole cargo of mutton chops. Ah, that was the best
+sight of all, dear as cakes and sweets are to the young! Mrs. Raynor
+could see nothing clearly for her glistening tears.
+
+"I thought you could all eat a mutton chop for supper, Mary. I know
+you had scarcely any dinner."
+
+"Are we _all_ to have one?" demanded Alfred, believing Aladdin's lamp
+must really have been at work.
+
+"Yes, all. Charley and mamma can have two if they like. Don't go on
+with your miserable supper, Charles."
+
+"Robert," cried Kate, flying to the door, "Edina's come home, and she
+has brought up so many things, and a mutton chop apiece."
+
+Why, there he was, the audacious little Bob, peeping in in his white
+nightgown!
+
+"A _whole_ mutton chop!" cried he, amazed at the magnitude of the
+question.
+
+"Yes, a whole one, dear," said Edina turning to him. "And not only for
+to-night. Every day you shall have a whole mutton chop, or something
+as good."
+
+"And puddings too!" stammered Kate, the idea of the fairy becoming a
+certainty.
+
+"And puddings too," said Edina. "Ah, children, I bring you such news!
+Did I not always tell you that God would remember us in His own good
+time? Mary, are you listening? Very soon you will all be back again at
+Eagles' Nest."
+
+Charles's heart beat wildly. He looked at Edina to see if she were
+joking, his eyes fearfully earnest.
+
+"I am telling you the truth, dear ones: Eagles' Nest is to be yours
+again, and our struggles and privations are over. George Atkinson
+never meant to keep it from you. You are to go down to him on
+Saturday, Charley, and stay over Sunday."
+
+"I'll never abuse him again," said Charley, smiling to hide a deeper
+emotion. "But--my best coat is so shabby, you know, Edina. I am
+ashamed of it at church."
+
+"Perhaps you may get another between now and then," nodded Edina.
+
+"What's _this?_" cried Kate, touching the last of the parcels.
+
+"A bottle of wine for mamma. She will soon look so fit and rosy that
+we shan't know her, for we shall have nothing to do but nurse her up."
+
+"My goodness!" cried Kate. "Wine! Mamma, here's some wine for you!"
+
+But there was no answer. Poor Mrs. Raynor lay back in her chair unable
+to speak, the silent tears stealing down her worn cheeks.
+
+Charles bent over and kissed her. Little Bob, in his nightgown,
+crouched down by her side at the fire; whilst Edina, throwing off her
+shawl and bonnet, began to prepare for supper.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+HARD LINES.
+
+
+Lying in her darkened chamber, sick almost unto death, was Mrs. Frank
+Raynor. A baby, a few days old, slept in a cot by the wall. No other
+child had been born to her, until now, since that season of peril at
+Eagles' Nest: and just as her life had all but paid the forfeit then,
+so it had again now. She was in danger still; she, herself, thought
+dying.
+
+An attentive nurse moved noiselessly about the room. Edina stood near
+the bed, fanning the poor pale face resting on it. The window was wide
+open, behind the blind: for the invalid's constant cry throughout the
+morning had been, "Give me air!"
+
+A light, quick step on the stairs, and Frank entered. He took the fan
+from Edina's tired hand, and she seized the opportunity to go down to
+the kitchen, to help Eve with the jelly ordered by Dr. Tymms; a
+skilful practitioner, who had been in constant attendance. Daisy
+opened her eyes to look at her husband, and the nurse quitted the
+room, leaving them together.
+
+"You will soon be about again, my darling," said Frank, in his low,
+earnest, hopeful tones, that were worth more than gold in a sick
+chamber. "Tymms assures me you are better this morning."
+
+"I don't want to get about," faintly responded Daisy.
+
+"Not want to get about!" cried Frank, uncertain whether it would be
+best to treat the remark as a passing fancy arising from weakness, or
+to inquire farther into it--for everything said by his wife now bore
+this depressing tenor.
+
+"And you ought to know that I cannot wish it," she resumed.
+
+"But I do not know it, Daisy, my love. I do not know why you should
+speak so."
+
+"I shall be glad to die."
+
+Frank bent a little lower, putting down the fan. "Daisy, I honestly
+believe that you will recover; that the turning-point has come and
+gone. Tymms thinks so. Why, yesterday you could not have talked as you
+are talking now."
+
+"I know I am dying. And it is so much the better for me."
+
+He put his hand under the pillow, raising it slightly to bring her
+face nearer his, and spoke very tenderly and persuasively. He knew
+that she was _not_ dying; that she was, in fact, improving.
+
+"My darling, you are getting better; and will get better. But, were it
+as you think, Daisy, all the more reason would exist for telling me
+what you mean, and why you have so long been in this depressed state
+of mind. Let me know the cause, Daisy."
+
+For a few minutes she did not reply. Frank thought that she was
+deliberating whether or not she should answer--and he was not
+mistaken. She closed her eyes again, and he took up the fan.
+
+"I have thought, while lying here, that I should like to tell you
+before I die," spoke Daisy at last. "But you don't need to be told."
+
+"I do. I do, indeed."
+
+"It is because you no longer love me. Perhaps you never loved me at
+all. You care for some one else; not for me."
+
+In very astonishment, Frank dropped the fan on the counterpane. "And
+who is--'some one else'?"
+
+"Oh, you know."
+
+"Daisy, this is a serious charge, and you must answer me. I do not
+know."
+
+She turned her face towards him, without speaking. Frank waited; he
+was ransacking his brains.
+
+"_Surely_ you cannot mean Edina!"
+
+A petulant, reproachful movement betrayed her anger. Edina! Who was an
+angel on earth, and so good to them all!--and older, besides. The
+tears began to drop slowly from her closed lashes, for she thought he
+must be trifling with her.
+
+"You will be sorry for it when I am gone, Frank. _Edina!_"
+
+"Who is it, Daisy?"
+
+A flush stole into her white cheeks, and the name was whispered so
+faintly that Frank scarcely caught it.
+
+"Rosaline Bell!" he repeated, gazing at her in doubt and surprise, for
+the thought crossed him that her senses might be wandering. "But,
+Daisy, suppose we speak of this to-morrow instead of now," he added as
+a measure of precaution. "You----"
+
+"We will speak of it now, or never," she interrupted, as vehemently as
+any one can speak whose strength is at the lowest ebb. And the sudden
+anger Frank's words caused her--for she deemed he was acting
+altogether a deceitful part and dared not speak--nerved her to tell
+out her grievances more fully than she might otherwise have had
+courage to do. Frank listened to the accusation with apparent
+equanimity; to the long line of disloyal conduct he had been indulging
+in since the early days at Trennach down to the present hour. His
+simple attempt at refutation made no impression whatever: the belief
+was too long and firmly rooted in her mind to be quickly dispelled.
+
+"I could have borne any trial better than this," concluded she, with
+laboured breathing: "all our misfortunes would have been as nothing to
+me in comparison. Don't say any more, please. Perhaps she will feel
+some remorse when she hears I am dead."
+
+"We will let it drop now then, Daisy," assented Frank. "But I have had
+no more thought of Rosaline than of the man in the moon."
+
+"Will you go away now, please, and send the nurse in?"
+
+"What on earth is to be done?" thought Frank, doing as he was ordered.
+"With this wretched fancy hanging over her, she may never get well;
+never. Mental worry in these critical cases sometimes means death."
+
+"How is she now?" asked Edina, meeting him on the stairs.
+
+"Just the same."
+
+"She seems so unhappy in mind, Frank," whispered Edina. "Do you know
+anything about it?"
+
+"She is low and weak at present, you see," answered Frank, evasively.
+And he passed on.
+
+Frank Raynor lapsed into a review of the past. Of the admiration he
+had undoubtedly given to Rosaline Bell at Trennach; of the solicitude
+he had evinced for her (or, rather, for her mother) since their stay
+in London. Of his constant visits to them: visits paid every three or
+four days at first; later, daily or twice a day--for poor Mrs. Bell
+was now near her end. Yes, he did see, looking at the years carefully
+and dispassionately, that Daisy (her suspicions having been, as she
+had now confessed, first aroused by the waiting-maid Tabitha) might
+have fancied she saw sufficient grounds for jealousy. She could not
+know that his friendship and solicitude for the Bells proceeded from a
+widely different cause. That clue would never, as he believed, be
+furnished to her so long as she should live.
+
+"What a blessing it would be if some people were born dumb!" concluded
+Frank, thinking of Tabitha Float.
+
+The slight symptoms of improvement continued; and at sunset Frank
+Raynor knew that his wife's condition would bear the carrying out of
+an idea he had formed. It was yet daylight outside, though the drawn
+curtains made the room dark, when Daisy was conscious of a sad,
+beautiful face bending over her, and an entreating voice whose gentle
+tones told of sadness.
+
+"Don't shrink from me, Mrs. Frank Raynor," whispered Rosaline--for she
+it was. "I have come to strive to put straight what I hear has been so
+long crooked."
+
+And the few words she spoke, spoke earnestly and solemnly, brought
+peace to the unhappy wife's heart. Daisy was too ill to feel much
+self-reproach then, but it was with some shame she learnt how mistaken
+she had been.
+
+"Oh, believe me!" concluded Rosaline, "I have never had a wrong
+thought of Mr. Frank Raynor; nor he one of me. Had we been brother and
+sister, our intercourse with each other could not have been more open
+and simple."
+
+"He--he liked you at Trennach, and you liked him," murmured poor
+Daisy, almost convinced, but repentant and tearful. "People talked
+about it."
+
+"He liked me as an acquaintance, nothing more," sighed Rosaline,
+passing over all mention of her own early feelings. "He was fond of
+talking and laughing with me, and I would talk and laugh back again. I
+was light-hearted then. But never, I solemnly declare it, did a word
+of love pass between us. And, in the midst of it, there fell upon me
+and my mother the terrible grief of my father's unhappy death. I have
+never laughed since then."
+
+"I have been thinking these past two years that he went to West Street
+only to see you," sobbed Daisy.
+
+Rosaline shook her head. "He has come entirely for my mother. Without
+fee, for he will not take it, he has been unremittingly kind and
+attentive, and has soothed her pains on the way to death. God bless
+him for it! A few days, and I shall never see him again in this world.
+But I shall not forget what he has done for us; and God will not
+forget it either."
+
+"_You_ are not going to die, are you?" cried poor puzzled Daisy.
+
+"I am going out to New Zealand," replied Rosaline. "As soon as I have
+laid my dear mother in her last home--and Death's shadow is even now
+upon her--I bid farewell to England for ever. We have relations who
+are settled near Wellington, and they are waiting to receive me. Were
+Mr. Raynor a free man and had never possessed any other ties on earth,
+there could be no question, now or ever, of love between him and me."
+
+Daisy's delicate hand went out to clasp the not less delicate one that
+rested near her on the bed, and her cheeks took quite a red tinge for
+her own folly and mistakes in the past. A wonderful liking, fancy,
+admiration, esteem--she hardly knew what to call it--was springing up
+in her heart for this sad and beautiful young woman, whom she had so
+miserably misjudged.
+
+"Forgive me my foolish thoughts," she whispered, quite a painful
+entreaty in her eyes. "I wish I had known you before: I would have
+made a friend of you."
+
+"Thank you, thank you!" warmly responded Rosaline. "That is all I came
+to say; but it is Heaven's truth. I, the unconscious cause of the
+trouble, am more sorry for it than you can be. Farewell, Mrs. Raynor:
+for now I must go back to my mother. I shall ever pray for your
+happiness and your husband's."
+
+"Won't you kiss me?" asked Daisy with a sob. And Rosaline bent over
+her and kissed her.
+
+"Are you convinced now, Daisy?" questioned Frank, coming into the room
+when he had seen Rosaline out of the house. "Are you happier?"
+
+All the answer she made was to lie on his arm and cry silently,
+abjectly murmuring something that he could not hear.
+
+"I thought it best to ask Rosaline to come, as you would not believe
+me. When I told her of the mischief that was supposed to have been
+afloat, she was more eager to come than I to send her."
+
+"Forgive me, Frank! Please don't be harsh with me! I am so ashamed of
+myself; so sorry!"
+
+"It is over now; don't think about it any more," kissing her very
+fervently.
+
+"I will never be so stupid again," she sobbed. "And--Frank--I think I
+shall--perhaps--get well now."
+
+
+Rosaline had said that Death's shadow lay upon her mother even while
+she was talking with Mrs. Raynor. In just twenty-four hours after
+that, Death himself came. When the day's sunlight was fading, to give
+place to the tranquil stars and to the cooler air of night, Mrs. Bell
+passed peacefully away to her heavenly home. She had been a great
+sufferer: she and her sufferings were alike at rest now.
+
+It was some two hours later. The attendant women had gone downstairs,
+and Rosaline was sitting alone, her eyes dry but her heart overwhelmed
+with its anguish, when Blase Pellet came to make a call of inquiry. He
+had shown true anxiety for the poor sick woman, and had often brought
+her little costly dainties; such as choice fruit. And once--it was a
+positive fact--once when Rosaline was absent, Blase had sat down and
+read to her from the New Testament.
+
+"Will you see her, Blase?" asked Rosaline, as he stood quiet and
+silent with the news. "She looks so peaceful."
+
+Blase assented; and they went together into the death-chamber. Very
+peaceful. Yes: none could look more so.
+
+"Poor old lady!" spoke Blase. "I'm sure I feel very sorry: almost as
+though it was my own mother. Was she sensible to the last?"
+
+"Quite to the very last; and collected," replied Rosaline, suppressing
+a sob in her throat. "Mr. Frank Raynor called in the afternoon; and I
+know he saw that nothing more could be done for her, though he did not
+say so. She was very still after he left, lying with her eyes closed.
+When she opened them and saw me, she put up her hand for me to take
+it. 'I have been thinking about your father and that past trouble,
+dear,' she said. 'I am going to him: and what has never been cleared
+here will be made clear there.' They were nearly the last words she
+spoke."
+
+"It's almost a pity but it had been cleared up for her here," said
+Blase. "It might have set her uncertainty at rest, don't you see.
+Sometimes I had three parts of a mind to tell her. She'd have thought
+a little less of Mr. Frank Raynor if I had told."
+
+Rosaline, standing on one side the bed, cast a steady look on the
+young man, standing on the other. "Blase," she said, "I think the time
+has come for me to ask you what you mean. As you well know, it is not
+your first hint, by many, in regard to what you saw that fatal night
+at Trennach. I have wanted to set you right; but I was obliged to
+avoid the subject whilst my mother lived; for had the truth reached
+her she might have died of it."
+
+"Died of it! Set me right!" repeated Blase, gazing back at Rosaline.
+
+"By the words which you have allowed to escape you from time to time,
+I gather that you have believed my unfortunate father owed his death
+to Mr. Frank Raynor."
+
+"So he did," said Blase.
+
+"So he did _not_, Blase. It was I who killed my father."
+
+The assertion seemed to confound him. But for the emotion that
+Rosaline was struggling with, her impressive tones, and the dead woman
+lying there, across whom they spoke, Blase might have deemed she was
+essaying to deceive him, and accorded her no belief.
+
+"Are you doubting my words, Blase?" she asked. "Listen. In going home
+from Granny Sandon's that night, I took the street way, and saw you
+standing outside the shop, preparing to shut it up. You nodded to me
+across the street, and I thought you meant to follow me as soon as you
+were at liberty. When I was out of your sight, I quickened my pace,
+and should have been at home before you could have caught me up,
+but for meeting Clerk Trim's wife. She kept me talking for I cannot
+tell how long, relating some sad tale about an accident that had
+happened to her sister at Pendon. I did not like to leave her in the
+middle of it; but I got away as soon as I could, though I dare say a
+quarter-of-an-hour had been lost. As I reached the middle of the
+Plain, I turned and saw some one following me at a distance, and I
+made no doubt it was you. At that same moment, Mr. Frank Raynor met
+me, and began telling me of a fight that had taken place between Molly
+Janes and her husband, and of the woman's injuries, which he had then
+been attending to. It did not occupy above a minute, but during that
+time, whilst I was standing, you were advancing. I feared you would
+catch me up; and I wished Mr. Frank a hurried good-night, and ran
+across to hide behind the mounds whilst you passed by. He did not
+understand the motive of my sudden movement, and followed me to ask
+what was the matter. I told him: I had seen you coming, and I did not
+want you to join me. When I thought you must have gone by, I stole out
+to look; and, as I could not see you, thought what good speed you had
+made, to be already out of sight. It never occurred to me to suppose
+you had come to the mounds, instead of passing on."
+
+"But I had come to them," interrupted Blase eagerly. "My eyes are
+keener than most people's, and I knew you both; and I saw you dart
+across, and Raynor after you. So I followed."
+
+"Well--in very heedlessness, I ran up to the mouth of the shaft, and
+pretended to be listening for Dan Sandon's ghost. Mr. Raynor seized
+hold of me; for I was too near the edge, and the least false step
+might have been fatal. Not a moment had we stood there; not a moment;
+when a shout, followed by a blow on Mr. Raynor's shoulder, startled
+us. It was my poor father. He was raising his stick for another blow,
+when I, in my terror, pushed between him and Mr. Raynor to part them.
+With all my strength--and a terrified woman possesses strength--I
+flung them apart, not knowing the mouth of the pit was so near. _I
+flung my father into it, Blase_."
+
+"Good mercy!" ejaculated Blase.
+
+"Mr. Frank Raynor leaped forward to save him, and nearly lost his own
+life in consequence; it was an even touch whether he followed my
+father, or whether he could balance himself backwards. I grasped his
+coat, and I believe--he believes--that that alone saved him."
+
+"I saw the scuffle," gasped Blase. "I could have taken my oath that it
+was Raynor who pushed your father in."
+
+"I am telling the truth in the presence of my dead mother and before
+Heaven," spoke Rosaline, lifting her hands in solemnity. "Do you doubt
+it, Blase Pellet?"
+
+"No--no; I can't, I don't," confessed Blase. "Moonlight's deceptive.
+And the wind was rushing along like mad between my eyes and the
+shaft."
+
+"I only meant to part them," wailed Rosaline. "And but that my poor
+father was unsteady in his gait that night, he need not have fallen.
+It is true I pushed him close to the brink, and there he tottered, in
+his unsteadiness, for the space of a second, and fell backwards: his
+lameness made him awkward at the best of times. A stronger man, sure
+of his feet, need not and would not have fallen in. But oh, Blase,
+that's no excuse for me! It does not lessen my guilt or my misery one
+iota. It was I who killed him: I, I!"
+
+"Has Mr. Raynor known this all along?" asked Blase, whose faculties
+for the moment were somewhat confused.
+
+Rosaline looked at him in surprise. "_Known it?_ Why, he was an actor
+in it. Ah, Blase, you have been holding Mr. Raynor guilty in your
+suspicious heart; he knows you have; and he has been keeping the
+secret out of compassion for me, bearing your ill thoughts in patient
+silence. All these four years he has been dreading that you would
+bring the accusation against him publicly. It has been in your heart;
+I know it has; to accuse him of my father's murder."
+
+"No, not really," said Blase, knitting his brows. "I should never have
+done it. I only wanted him to think I should."
+
+"And, see you not what it would have involved? I honestly believe that
+Frank Raynor would never have cleared himself at my expense, whatever
+charge you might have brought, but he feared that I should speak and
+clear him. As I should have done. And that confession would have gone
+well-nigh to kill my poor mother. For my sake Mr. Raynor has borne all
+this; borne with you; and done what lay in his power to ward off
+exposure."
+
+"He always favoured you," spoke Blase in crestfallen tones.
+
+"Not for the sake of _that_ has he done it," quickly returned
+Rosaline. "He takes his share of blame for that night's work; and
+_will_ take it, although blame does not attach to him. Had he gone
+straight home as I bade him, and not followed me to the mounds, it
+would not have happened, he says; so he reproaches himself. And, so
+far, that is true. It was a dreadful thing for both of us, Blase."
+
+"I wish it had been him instead of you," retorted Blase.
+
+"It might have been better, far better, had I spoken at the time--or
+allowed Mr. Raynor to speak. To have told the whole truth--that I had
+done it, though not intentionally; and that my poor father was lying
+where he was--dead. But I did not; I was too frightened, too
+bewildered, too full of horror: in short, I believe I was out of my
+senses. And, as I did not confess at the time, I could not do so
+afterwards. Mr. Raynor would have given the alarm at the moment, but
+for me: later, when I in my remorse and distress would have confessed,
+he said it must not be. And I see that he was right."
+
+Blase could only nod acquiescence to this: but his nod was a sullen
+one.
+
+"You know that our old clergyman at Trennach, Mr. Pine, was in London
+last Easter and came here to see my mother," resumed Rosaline. "I
+privately asked him to let me have half-an-hour alone with him, and he
+said I might call on him at his lodgings. I went; and I told him what
+I have now told you, Blase; and at my request he got a lawyer there,
+who drew up this statement of mine in due form, and I swore to its
+truth and signed it in their presence. A copy of this, sealed and
+attested, has been handed to Mr. Raynor; Mr. Pine keeps another copy.
+I do not suppose they will ever have to be used; but there the deeds
+are, in case of need. It was right that some guarantee of the truth
+should be given to secure Mr. Raynor, as I was intending to go to the
+other end of the world."
+
+"It sounds altogether like a tale," cried Blase.
+
+"A very hideous one."
+
+"And as to your going to the end of the world, Rosaline, you know that
+you need not do it. I am well off, now my father's dead, and----"
+
+She held up her hand warningly. "Blase, _you_ know that this is a
+forbidden subject. I shall never, never marry in this world: and, of
+all men in it, the two whom I would least marry are you and Mr.
+Raynor. He takes a share of that night's blame; you may take at least
+an equal share: for, had you not persisted in following me from
+Trennach, when you knew it would be distasteful to me, I should have
+had no need to seek refuge in the mounds, and the calamity could not
+have occurred. Never speak to me of marriage again, Blase."
+
+"It's very hard lines," grumbled Blase.
+
+"And are not my lines hard?--and have not Mr. Frank Raynor's been
+hard?" she asked with emotion. "But, oh, Blase," she softly added,
+"let us remember, to our consolation, that these 'hard lines' are only
+sent to us in mercy. Without them, and the discipline they bring, we
+might never seek to gain heaven."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+TEARS.
+
+
+Alice Raynor was sitting in a small parlour at Mrs. Preen's, dedicated
+to herself and the children's studies, busily employed in correcting
+exercises. The afternoon sun shone upon the room, and she had drawn
+the table into the shade. Her head and hands were given to their work,
+but her deeper thoughts were far away: for there existed not a minute
+in the day that the anxiety caused by her uncertain prospects was not
+more or less present to her mind. She knew nothing of the new hopes
+relative to Eagles' Nest. In truth, those hopes, both to Mrs. Raynor
+and Edina, seemed almost too wonderful to be real; and as yet they
+refrained from giving them to Alice.
+
+The corrections did not take very long, and then Alice laid down the
+pen and sat thinking. She felt hot and weary, and wished it was nearer
+tea-time. The old days at Eagles' Nest came into her thoughts. They
+very often did so: and the contrast they presented to these later ones
+always made her sad.
+
+A slight tap at the door, and a gentleman entered: William Stane.
+Alice blushed through her hot cheeks when she saw who it was, and
+brushed the tears from her eyes. But not before he had seen them.
+
+"I beg your pardon, Miss Raynor. Mrs. Preen is out, I hear."
+
+"Yes, she is out with the two little girls."
+
+"I am sorry. I have brought up some admission tickets for the
+Botanical flower-show: they were only given me this morning. Do you
+think Mrs. Preen will be back soon?"
+
+"Not in time to use the tickets. They have gone to an afternoon-tea at
+Richmond."
+
+"What a pity! It is the rose show. I--suppose you could not go with
+me?" added Mr. Stane in some hesitation.
+
+"Oh dear, no," replied Alice, glancing at him in astonishment. "Thank
+you very much."
+
+"Mrs. Preen would not like it, you think?"
+
+"I am sure she would not. You forget that I am only the governess."
+
+Down sat Mr. Stane on the other side the table, and began fingering
+absently one of the exercise-books, looking occasionally at Alice
+while he did so.
+
+"What were you crying about?" he suddenly asked.
+
+ Alice was taken
+aback. "I--I don't think I was quite crying."
+
+"You were very near it. What was the matter?"
+
+"I am very sorry to have to leave," she truthfully answered. "Mrs.
+Preen is about to stay for a time in Devonshire, as perhaps you know,
+and the little girls are to go to school. So I am no longer wanted
+here."
+
+"I should consider that a subject for laughter instead of tears. You
+will be spared work."
+
+"Ah, you don't know," cried Alice, her tone one of pain. "If I do not
+work here, I must elsewhere. And the next place I get may be harder
+than this."
+
+"And you were crying at the anticipation?"
+
+"No. I was crying at the thought of perhaps not being able speedily to
+find another situation. I--suppose," she timidly added, "you do not
+happen to know of any situation vacant, Mr. Stane?"
+
+"Why, yes, I believe I do. And I think you will be just the right
+person to fill it."
+
+Her blue eyes brightened, her whole face lighted up with eagerness.
+
+"Oh, if you can only obtain it for me! I shall be so thankful, for
+mamma's sake."
+
+"But it is not as a governess."
+
+"Not as a governess! What then?"
+
+"As a housekeeper."
+
+"Oh dear!" cried Alice in dismay. "I don't know very much about
+housekeeping. People would not think me old enough."
+
+"And as a wife."
+
+She did not understand him. He was rising from his seat to approach
+her, a smile on his face. Alice sat looking at him with parted lips.
+
+"As _my_ wife, Alice," he said, bending low. "Oh, my dear, surely our
+foolish estrangement may end! I have been wishing it for some time
+past. I am tired of chambers, and want to set up a home for myself. I
+want a wife in it. Alice, if you will be that wife, well: otherwise I
+shall probably remain as I am for ever."
+
+Ah, there could be no longer any doubt: he was in earnest. His tender
+tones, his beseeching eyes, the warm clasp of his hands, told her all
+the happy truth--his love was her own still. She burst into tears of
+emotion, and William Stane kissed them away.
+
+"You don't despise me because I have been a governess?" she sobbed.
+
+"My darling, I only love you the better for it. And shall prize you
+more."
+
+He sat down by her side and quietly told her all. That for a
+considerable period after their parting, he had steeled his heart
+against her, and done his best to drive her from it. He thought he had
+succeeded. He believed he should have succeeded but for meeting her
+again at Mrs. Preen's. That showed him that she was just as dear to
+him as ever. Still he strove against his love; but he continued his
+visits to the Preens, who were old friends of his and each time, that
+he chanced to see Alice, served to convince him more and more that he
+could not part with her. He was about to tell his father that he had
+made up his mind to marry Miss Raynor, when Sir Philip died, and then
+he did not speak to Alice quite immediately. All this he explained to
+her.
+
+"And but for your coming into this house, Alice, and my opportunities
+of seeing you in it, we should in all human probability have remained
+estranged throughout life. So, you see that I would not have had you
+not become a governess for the world."
+
+She smiled through her tears. "It was not in that light I spoke."
+
+"I am aware of it. But you are more fitted to make a good wife now,
+after your experiences and your trials, than you would have been in
+the old prosperous days at Eagles' Nest. I shall be especially glad
+for one thing--that when you are mine I shall have a right to ease
+your mother's straits and difficulties. She has deemed me very
+hard-hearted, I dare say: but I have often and often thought of her,
+and wished I had a plea for calling on and helping her."
+
+His intention showed a good heart. But William Stane and Alice were
+both ignorant of one great fact--that Mrs. Raynor no longer needed
+help. She would shortly be back again at Eagles' Nest, all her
+struggles with poverty over.
+
+The hot sun still streamed into the little room, but Alice wondered
+what had become of its oppression, what of her own weariness. The day
+and all things with it, without and within, had changed to Elysium.
+
+
+Frank Raynor attended the funeral of old Mrs. Bell. He chose to do so:
+and Rosaline felt the respect warmly, and thanked him for it. He would
+have been just as well pleased not to have Mr. Blase Pellet for his
+companion mourner: but it had to be. On his return home from the
+cemetery, Frank's way led him through West Street, and he called in
+just to see Rosaline, who had been too disturbed in health, too
+depressed in spirits, to attend herself. Not one minute had he been
+there when Mr. Blase Pellet also came in. On the third day from that,
+Rosaline was to sail for New Zealand.
+
+"And I say that it is a very cruel thing of her to sail at all,"
+struck in Blase, when Frank chanced to make some remark about the
+voyage. "As my wife, she would----"
+
+"Blase, you know the bargain," quietly interrupted Rosaline, turning
+her sad eyes upon him. "Not a word of that kind must ever be spoken by
+you to me again. I will not hear it, or bear it."
+
+"I'm not going to speak of it; it's of no use speaking," grumbled
+Blase. "But a fellow who feels his life is blighted can't be wholly
+silent. And you might have been so happy at Trennach! You liked the
+place once."
+
+"Are you going back to Trennach?" asked Frank in some surprise.
+
+"Yes," said Blase. "I only came to London to be near her; and I shan't
+care to stay in it, once she is gone. Float, the druggist, has been
+wanting me for some time. I am to be his partner; and the whole
+concern will be mine after he has done with it."
+
+"I wish you success, Blase;" said Frank heartily. "You can make a
+better thing of the business than old Float makes, if you will."
+
+"I mean to," answered Blase.
+
+"I will take this opportunity of saying just a word to you, Blase,"
+again spoke up Rosaline, smoothing down the crape of her gown with one
+hand, in what looked like nervousness. "I have informed Mr. Raynor of
+the conversation I had with you the night my mother died, and that you
+are aware of the confession he and Mr. Pine alike hold."
+
+Frank turned quickly to Blase. "You perceive now that you have been
+lying under a mistake from the first, with regard to me."
+
+"I do," said Blase. "I am never ashamed to confess myself in the
+wrong, once I am convinced of it. But I should never have brought it
+against you, Mr. Frank Raynor; never; and that, I fancy, is what you
+have been fearing. In future, the less said about that past night the
+better. Better for all of us to try and forget it."
+
+Frank nodded an emphatic acquiescence, and took up his hat to depart.
+Yes, indeed, better forget it. He should have to allude to it once
+again, for he meant to tell the full truth to Edina; and then he would
+put it from his mind.
+
+He went home, wondering whether any urgent calls had been made upon
+him during this morning's absence; and was standing behind the
+counter, questioning Sam, when a sunburnt little gentleman walked in.
+Frank gazed at him in amazement: for it was Mr. Max Brown.
+
+"How are you, Raynor?" cried the traveller, grasping Frank's hand
+cordially.
+
+"My goodness!" exclaimed Frank. "Have you dropped from the moon?"
+
+"I dropped last from the Southampton train. Got into port last night."
+
+"All well?"
+
+"_Very_ well. And my good old mother is not dead yet."
+
+There was no mistaking the stress upon the first word: no mistaking
+the perfectly contented air that distinguished Mr. Max Brown's whole
+demeanour. Whatever cause might have detained him so long from his
+home and country, it did not appear to be an unpleasant one.
+
+"There was a young lady in the case," he acknowledged, entering on his
+explanation with a smile on his bronzed face. "Lota Elmaine; old
+Elmaine the planter's only daughter. The old man would not let us be
+married: Lota was too young, he said; the marriage should not take
+place until she was in Europe. Will you believe it, Raynor, old
+Elmaine has kept me on like that all the blessed time I have been
+away, perpetually saying he was coming over here, and never coming!
+Never a month passed but he gave out he should sail the next."
+
+"And so you stayed also!"
+
+"I stayed also. I would not leave Lota to be snapped up by some
+covetous rascal in my absence. Truth to tell, I could not part with
+her on my own score."
+
+"And where is Miss Lota Elmaine?"
+
+"No longer in existence. She is Mrs. Max Brown.
+
+"Then you have brought her over with you!"
+
+"Poor Elmaine died a few months ago; and Lota had a touch of the
+native fever, which left her thin and prostrate: so I persuaded her to
+marry me off-hand that I might bring her here for a change. She is
+better already. The voyage has done her no end of good."
+
+"Where is she?"
+
+"At a private hotel in Westminster. We have taken up our quarters
+there for the time being."
+
+"Until you can come here," assumed Frank. "I suppose you want me to
+clear out as soon as possible. My wife is ill----"
+
+"I want you to stay for good, if you will," interrupted Mr. Brown.
+"The business is excellent, you know, better than when I left it. If
+you will take to it I shall make it quite easy for you."
+
+"What are you going to do yourself?" questioned Frank.
+
+"Nothing at present," said Mr. Max Brown. "Lota's relatives on the
+mother's side live in Wales, and she wants to go amongst them for a
+time. Perhaps I shall set up in practice there. Lota's fortune is more
+than enough for us, but I should be miserable with nothing to do. Will
+you take to this concern, Raynor?"
+
+"I think not," replied Frank, shaking his head. "My wife does not like
+the neighbourhood."
+
+"Neither would my wife like it. Well, there's no hurry; it is a good
+offer, and you can consider it. And, look here, Raynor: if you would
+like a day or two's holiday now, take it: you have been hard at work
+long enough. I will come down and attend for you. I should like to see
+my old patients again: though some of them were queer kind of people."
+
+"Thank you," said Frank mechanically.
+
+Thought after thought was passing through his mind. No, he would not
+stay here. He had no further motive for seeking obscurity, thank
+Heaven, and Daisy should be removed to a more congenial atmosphere.
+But--what could he do for means? He must be only an assistant yet, he
+supposed; but better luck might come in course of time.
+
+And better luck, though Frank knew it not, was on his way to him even
+then.
+
+What with one thing and another, that day seemed destined to be
+somewhat of an eventful day to Frank Raynor. In the evening a letter
+was delivered to him from Mr. George Atkinson, requesting him to go
+down to Eagles' Nest on the morrow, as he wished particularly to see
+him.
+
+"What can he want with me?--unless he is about to appoint me
+Surgeon-in-Ordinary to his high and mighty self!" quoth Frank,
+lightly. "But I should like to go. I should like to see the old place
+again. _Can_ I go? Daisy is better. Max Brown has offered me a day or
+two's rest. Yes, I can. And drop Max a note now to say his patients
+will be waiting for him to-morrow morning."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+MADEMOISELLE'S LETTER.
+
+
+"A parcel for you, sir."
+
+"A parcel for me!" repeated Mr. Atkinson to his servant, some slight
+surprise in his tone. For he was not in the habit of receiving
+parcels, and wondered what was being sent to him.
+
+The parcel was done up rather clumsily in brown paper, and appeared,
+by the label on it, to have come by fast train from Hereford. Mr.
+George Atkinson looked at the address with curiosity. It did not bear
+his name, but was simply directed to "The Resident of Eagles' Nest.
+
+"Undo it, Thomas," said he.
+
+Thomas took off the string and unfolded the brown paper. This
+disclosed a second envelope of white paper: and a sealed note,
+similarly superscribed, lying on it. Mr. Atkinson took the note in his
+hand: but Thomas was quick, and in a minute the long-lost ebony desk
+stood revealed to view, its key attached to it.
+
+"Oh," said Mr. Atkinson. "What does the letter say?"
+
+The letter proved to be from Mademoiselle Delrue, the former governess
+at Eagles' Nest. In a long and rather complicated explanation, written
+partly in French, partly in English, the following facts came to
+light.
+
+When about to leave Eagles' Nest; things and servants being at that
+time at sixes-and-sevens there; the kitchen-maid, one Jane--or, as
+mademoiselle wrote it, Jeanne--a good-natured girl, had offered to
+assist her to pack up. She had shown Jeanne her books piled ready in
+the small study, and Jeanne had packed them together in several
+parcels: for mademoiselle's stock of books was extensive. After
+leaving Mrs. Raynor's, Mademoiselle Delrue had gone into a family
+who spent a large portion of their time in travelling on the Continent
+and elsewhere: much luggage could not be allowed to mademoiselle,
+consequently her parcels of books had remained unpacked from that time
+to this. She had now settled down with the family in Herefordshire,
+had her parcels forwarded to her, and unpacked them. To her
+consternation, her grief, her horror--mademoiselle dashed all three of
+the words--in one of these parcels she discovered not books, but the
+black desk, one that she well remembered as belonging to Major Raynor:
+that stupid Jeanne must have taken it to be hers, and committed the
+error of putting it up. Mademoiselle finished by asking whether she
+could be forgiven: if one slight element of consolation could peep out
+upon her, she observed, it was to find that the desk was empty. She
+had lost not an instant in sending it back to Eagles' Nest, and she
+begged the resident gentleman there (whose name, she had the pain of
+confessing, had quite escaped her memory) to be so kind as to forward
+it, together with this note of contrition and explanation, to Mrs.
+Raynor--whose present residence she was not acquainted with. And she
+had the honour to salute him with respectful cordiality.
+
+"Don't go away, Thomas," said his master. "I want you to stay while I
+search the private compartment of this desk: I fancy those missing
+papers may be in it. Let me see? Yes, this is the way--and here's the
+spring."
+
+With one touch, the false bottom was lifted out. Beneath, quietly lay
+the lost bonds; also a copy of Mrs. Atkinson's last will--the one made
+in favour of George Atkinson, and a few words written by her to
+himself.
+
+"You see them, Thomas? See that I have found them here?"
+
+"Indeed I do, sir."
+
+"That's all, then. People are fond of saying that truth is stranger
+than fiction," said Mr. Atkinson to himself with a smile, as the man
+withdrew. He examined the bonds; ascertained, to his astonishment,
+that the money they related to had been invested in his name, and in
+one single profitable undertaking. And it appeared that Mrs. Atkinson
+had given directions that the yearly interest, arising, should remain
+and be added to the principal, until such time as he, George Atkinson,
+should come forward to claim the whole.
+
+"Little wonder we could not find the money," thought he. "And
+now--what is to be done with it?" And taking only a few minutes for
+consideration, he addressed the letter spoken of in the foregoing
+chapter, to Frank Raynor. Which brought the latter down in person.
+
+"I never heard of so romantic a thing!" cried Frank with his sweet
+smile and gay manner, that so won upon everybody; and was now winning
+upon George Atkinson, as he listened to the narrative on his arrival
+at Eagles' Nest. "I am sure I congratulate you very heartily. The
+hunts that poor Uncle Francis used to have over those very bonds! And
+to think that they were lying all the time close under his hand!"
+
+"I expect that very little of the money would have been left for me
+had he found them," significantly remarked Mr. Atkinson.
+
+Frank laughed. "To speak the truth, I don't think it would. Is it very
+much?"
+
+"A little over twenty-one thousand pounds. That is what I make it at a
+rough calculation--of course including the interest to this date."
+
+"What a heap of money!" exclaimed Frank. "You can set up a
+coach-and-six," added he, joking lightly.
+
+"Ay. By the way, Mr. Francis Raynor, how came _you_ to treat me so
+cavalierly when I was playing 'Tiger' here?--the name you and Charles
+were pleased to bestow----"
+
+"Oh, Charley gave you that name," interrupted Frank, his blue eyes
+dancing with merriment. "He took you for a sheriff's officer about to
+capture him. I'm sure I never was so astonished in all my life as when
+Charley told me the other day that the Tiger had turned out to be, not
+a Tiger, but Mr. George Atkinson.
+
+"I can understand his shunning me, under the misapprehension. But why,
+I ask, did you do it? You were not in fear, I presume, of a sheriff's
+officer?"
+
+Frank's face grew grave at once. "No, I was not in fear of that," he
+said, dropping his voice, "but I had fears on another score. I had
+reason to fear that I was being watched--looked after--tracked; and I
+thought you were doing it. I am thankful to say," he added, his
+countenance brightening again, "that I was under a misapprehension
+altogether: but I only learnt that very lately. It has been a great
+trouble to me for years, keeping me down in the world--and yet I had
+done nothing myself to deserve it. I--I cannot explain further, and
+would be glad to drop the subject," he continued, raising his eyes
+ingenuously to George Atkinson's. "And I heartily beg your pardon for
+all the discourtesy I was guilty of. It is against my nature to show
+any--even to a Tiger."
+
+"As I should fancy. It gave me a wrong impression of you. Made me
+think all you Raynors were alike--worthless. It's true, Frank. I was
+ready to be a good friend to you then, had you allowed me. And now
+tell me of your plans."
+
+Frank, open-natured, full of candour, told freely all he knew about
+himself. That he did not intend to remain at Mr. Max Brown's, for
+Daisy disliked the neighbourhood, and he should look out for a more
+desirable situation at the West End as assistant-surgeon.
+
+"Why not set up in practice for yourself at the West End?" asked
+George Atkinson.
+
+"Because I have nothing to set up upon," answered Frank. "That has
+been a bar all along. We must live, you see, whilst the practice is
+coming in."
+
+"You could do it on seven thousand pounds."
+
+"Seven thousand pounds!" echoed Frank. "Why, yes on half of it; on a
+quarter. But I have no money at all, you understand."
+
+"Yes, you have, Frank. You have just that sum. At least you will have
+it in the course of a few days!"
+
+Frank's Frank's pleasant lips were parting with a smile. He thought it
+was meant as a joke.
+
+"Look here. This money that has come to light, of your aunt
+Atkinson's--you cannot, I hope, imagine for a moment that I should
+keep it. By law it is mine, for she willed it to me; but I shall
+divide it into three portions, and give them to those who are her
+rightful heirs: her brothers' families. One portion to Mrs. Raynor;
+one to that angel of goodness, Edina----"
+
+"And she is an angel," interrupted Frank hotly, carried away by the
+praise. "How we should all have got on without Edina, I don't know.
+But, Mr. Atkinson, you must not do this that you are talking of: at
+least as far as I am concerned. It would be too chivalrously
+generous."
+
+"Why not to you?"
+
+"I could not think of taking it. I have no claim upon you. Who am I,
+that you should benefit me?"
+
+"I benefit you as your father's son. Were he living, this money would
+be his: it will now be yours. There, say no more, Frank; you cannot
+talk me out of doing bare justice. You will own seven thousand pounds
+next week, and you can lay your plans accordingly."
+
+"I shall not know how to thank you," cried Frank, with a queer feeling
+in his throat. "Eagles' Nest first, and twenty-one thousand pounds
+next! You must have been taking a lesson from Edina. And what will Max
+Brown say when he hears that I shall leave him for certain? He does
+not believe it yet."
+
+"Max Brown can go promenading."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+SUNSHINE.
+
+
+It was a warm September day. The blue sky was without a cloud; the
+sunbeams glinted through the foliage, beginning to change with the
+coming autumn, and fell on the smooth velvet lawn at Eagles' Nest. On
+that same green lawn stood a group of people in gala attire, for this
+had been a gala day with them. William Stane and Alice Raynor were
+married that morning. They had now just driven from the gates, around
+which the white satin shoes lay, and the rice in showers.
+
+It had been Mr. George Atkinson's intention to resign Eagles' Nest at
+the end of June, almost immediately after he first spoke of doing so.
+But his intention, like a great many more intentions formed in this
+uncertain world of ours, was frustrated. The Raynors could not come
+down so soon to take possession of it. Charles had given notice at
+once to leave Prestleigh and Preen's; but he was requested, as a
+favour, not to do so until the second week in August, for the office
+had a hard task to get through its work before the long vacation. And
+as Charles had learnt to study other people's interests more than his
+own, he cheerfully said he would remain. It was a proud moment for
+him, standing amongst the fellow-clerks who had looked down upon him,
+when one of those very clerks copied out the deed of gift by which
+Eagles' Nest was transferred to him by George Atkinson, constituting
+him from henceforth its rightful owner. Charles, who knew a little of
+law by this time, proposed to himself to commence reading for the Bar:
+he had acquired the habit of work and knew its value, and did not wish
+to be an idle man. But George Atkinson, their true friend and
+counsellor, spoke against it. The master of Eagles' Nest need be no
+idle man, he said; rather, if he did his duty faithfully, too busy a
+one. Better for Charles to learn how to till his land and manage his
+property, than to plead in a law court; better to constitute himself
+the active manager of his estate. Charles saw the advice was sound,
+and meant to follow it.
+
+Neither was Alice ready to leave London as soon as she had expected,
+for Mrs. Preen's intended departure from home was delayed for some
+weeks, and she also requested Alice to remain. Alice was nothing loth.
+She saw William Stane frequently, and Mrs. Preen took a warm interest
+in the arrangement of her wedding clothes.
+
+But the chief impediment to their departure from Laurel Cottage, the
+poor home which had sheltered them so long, lay with Mrs. Raynor.
+Whether the reaction, at finding their miserable troubles at an end
+and fortune smiling again, told too strongly upon her weakened frame;
+or whether that headache, which you may remember she complained of the
+night Edina reached home with the joyful news from Eagles' Nest, was
+in truth the advance symptom of an illness already attacking her,
+certain it was that from that night Mrs. Raynor drooped. The headache
+did not leave her; other symptoms crept on. At the end of a few days:
+days that Edina had spent at Frank's in attendance on his sick wife: a
+doctor was called in. He pronounced it to be low fever. Edina left
+Daisy, who was then out of danger, to return home, where she was now
+most wanted. For some weeks Mrs. Raynor did not leave her bed.
+Altogether there had been many hindrances.
+
+It was getting towards the end of August before the day came when they
+went down to take possession of Eagles' Nest. Mrs. Raynor was better
+then; almost well; but much reduced, and still needing care.
+
+"This place will bring back your health and spirits in no time,
+mother," cried Charles, bending towards her, as they drove up to the
+gates of Eagles' Nest. She was leaning back in the carriage, side by
+side with Edina, and tears were trickling down her pale cheeks. He
+took her hand. "You don't speak, mother."
+
+"Charley, I was thanking God. And wondering what we can do to show our
+thanks to Him in the future. I know that my life will be one long,
+heartfelt hymn of gratitude."
+
+Charley leaned from the carriage window. Talking to the lodge-keeper
+was Jetty the carpenter. Standing with them and watching the carriage
+was a man whom Charles remembered as one Beck; remembered, to his
+shame, what his own treatment had been of the poor fellow in the
+days gone by. Good Heavens! that he should have been so insolent,
+purse-proud, haughty a young upstart! his cheeks reddened now with the
+recollection. Ungenerous words and deeds generally come flashing back
+upon us as reminders when we least want them.
+
+Could that be Charles Raynor!--their future master? Jetty and Beck
+scarcely believed that in the pale, self-contained, gentle-faced man,
+who looked so much older than his years, they saw the arrogant youth
+of other days: scarcely believed that the sweet smile, the passing
+word of greeting, the steadfast look shining from the considerate
+eyes, could be indeed meant for them. Ah yes, they might cast out
+fear; it was Charles Raynor. And they saw that the good news whispered
+to them all by Mr. Atkinson was indeed true: their new master would be
+as good and faithful a friend to them as he himself had been during
+these past three years.
+
+"God ever helping me to be so!" aspirated Charles to his own heart. A
+whole lifetime of experience, spent in prosperity, could not have
+worked the change wrought in him by this comparatively short period of
+stern adversity.
+
+George Atkinson stood at the door to receive them. He had not left
+Eagles' Nest. For a week or so they were to be his guests in it: or he
+theirs. Some hearty joking and laughter was raised in this the first
+moment of meeting, as to which it would be, led to by a remark of Mrs.
+Raynor's: that she hoped he would not find the children--coming on
+with Alice in another carriage--troublesome guests.
+
+"Nay, the house is yours, you know, not mine: you cannot be my
+guests," laughed George Atkinson. "How do you say, Miss Raynor?"
+
+"I say we are your guests," answered Edina. "And very glad to be so."
+
+"At least I did not think _you_ would side against me," said George
+Atkinson, with pretended resentment. "For this day, let it be so,
+then. To-morrow I subside into my proper place, and Mrs. Raynor begins
+her reign.
+
+"I have been wondering how we can ever be sufficiently grateful to
+God," she whispered with emotion, taking his hand in hers. "I know not
+how we can ever thank _you_."
+
+"Nay, my dear lady, I have done only what was right and just; right
+and just in His sight, and according to His laws," was George
+Atkinson's solemn answer. "We must all strive for that, you know, if
+we would ensure peace at the last. Here comes the other fly with the
+young ones!--and that curly-headed urchin, gazing at us with his great
+blue eyes, must be my disappointed little candidate for the Bluecoat
+School."
+
+The week passed soon; and the wedding morning dawned. And now that was
+past, and the bridal carriage had driven off; and the white slippers
+and the rice were thrown, and they had all collected on the lawn in
+the afternoon sun. The only guests were Frank Raynor and his wife, who
+had arrived the night before. Street the lawyer and a brother of
+William Stane's had come for the morning; but had already left again
+by an afternoon train.
+
+Frank Raynor, aided by the seven thousand pounds made over to him, had
+taken to the house and practice of a deceased medical man in Mayfair,
+and was securely established there and doing already fairly well. Mr.
+Max Brown, who, with his wife, had been spending a week with them, had
+disposed of the Lambeth practice to another purchaser. Daisy was happy
+again, and just as pretty and blooming as in the old days at Trennach.
+Frank, without entering into actual particulars (he did that only to
+Edina), had disclosed to her enough of that past night's fatal work to
+account for his interest in, and care of, Mrs. Bell and poor Rosaline.
+A dozen times at least in the day, Daisy, with much contrition and
+many repentant tears, would whisper prayers to her husband to be
+forgiven; saying at the same time she could never forgive herself.
+Frank would kiss the tears away and tell her to let bygones be
+bygones; they were beginning life afresh. Rosaline had sailed for her
+new home and country--was probably by this time nearing its shores.
+Most earnestly was it to be hoped she would regain happiness there.
+
+Who so proud as Daisy, flitting about the lawn with her three-months'
+old baby in her arms, resplendent in its white robes! The little thing
+was named Francis George, and George Atkinson was its godfather. So
+many interests had claimed their attention that day, that not a minute
+had yet been found for questions and answers; and it was only now, at
+the first quiet moment, that Mr. Atkinson was beginning to inquire how
+Frank was prospering.
+
+"First-rate," said sanguine Frank, his kindly face glowing. "I wish
+with all my heart every beginner was getting on as well as I."
+
+"And my mother has recovered her amiability," put in Daisy,
+irreverently, handing the baby over to its nurse, who stood by. "I had
+quite a long letter from her yesterday morning, Mr. Atkinson, in which
+she graciously forgives me, and says I shall have my share of the
+money that my uncle Tom left her last year. That will be at least some
+thousands of pounds."
+
+"It never rains but it pours, you know," smiled Frank. "Money drops
+in, now that we don't particularly want it."
+
+"And so," added Daisy, "we mean to set up our brougham. Frank needs
+one very badly."
+
+"Frank needs it for use and you for show," cried George Atkinson,
+laughing.
+
+"Yes that is just it," acknowledged Daisy. "I expect I shall not have
+much of it, though, as his practice increases. When do you take
+possession of your town house, Mr. Atkinson? You will not be very far
+from us."
+
+"I go up to it from Eagles' Nest to-morrow," was the reply. "Perhaps
+not to remain long in it at present. I am not yet able to form my
+plans."
+
+"Not able to form your plans!" echoed Daisy, in her saucy, engaging
+way; her bright eyes gazing questioningly into his. "Why, I should
+have thought you might have laid your plans on the first of January
+for all the year, having no one to consult but yourself."
+
+"But if I am uncertain--capricious?" returned he, in half-jesting
+tones.
+
+"Ah, that's a different thing. I should not have thought you that at
+all. But--pray tell me, Mr. Atkinson! What do the people down here
+say, now they have found out that it was you, yourself, who lived
+amongst them three years ago?"
+
+"They say nothing to me. I dare say they conjecture that I had my
+reasons for it. Or perhaps they think I was only amusing myself,"
+continued George Atkinson, glancing at Edina.
+
+Edina smiled at him in return. All's well that ends well: and that
+incognito business had turned out very well in the end. To her only
+had George Atkinson spoken out fully of the motives that swayed him,
+the impressions he received.
+
+Edina stood near them in all her finery. She had never been so grand
+in her life: and perhaps had never looked so well. A lilac-silk dress,
+and a lovely pink rose in her bosom, nestling amidst white lace. Edina
+was rich now--as _she_ looked upon riches. Seven thousand pounds, and
+all her own! She had held out strenuously against receiving it,
+pointing out to George Atkinson that it would be wrong and unfair to
+give it to her, as her aunt Ann had never meant to leave her any money
+at all. But Edina's arguments and objections proved of no avail. Mr.
+Atkinson quietly closed his ears, and transferred the money to her, in
+spite of her protests. The first use Edina made of her cheque-book was
+to send a hundred pounds to Mr. Pine, that he might distribute it
+amongst the poor of Trennach.
+
+Like George Atkinson, as he had just avowed, Edina had not formed her
+plans. She could not decide where her chief residence should be. Mrs.
+Raynor and Charles naturally pressed her to remain at Eagles' Nest:
+but she hesitated. A wish to have a home of her own, some little place
+of her own setting up, was making itself heard in her heart: and she
+could visit Eagles' Nest from time to time. Should the little
+homestead be near to them?--or at Trennach? It was this that she could
+not yet decide. But she must do so very shortly, for she wished to
+give them her decision on the morrow.
+
+Turning away from the busy talkers, from the excited children; Kate in
+white, and little Bob, not in a long skirted blue coat and yellow
+stockings, but in black velvet and knickerbockers; Edina wandered
+away, her mind full, and sat down on a bench shaded by clustering
+trees, out of sight and sound of all. The small opening in the trees
+before her disclosed a glimpse of the far-off scenery--the Kentish
+hills, with their varying foliage, lying under the calm, pale blue
+sky.
+
+"I like Trennach," she argued with herself. "I love it, for it was my
+girlhood's home; and I love those who are in it. I could almost say
+with Ruth, 'The people there shall be my people, and their God my
+God.' On the other hand are the claims of Eagles' Nest, and of Frank
+and Daisy. I love them all. Mary Raynor says she cannot get on unless
+I am near her; and perhaps the young ones need me too. If I only
+knew!"
+
+"Knew what?" cried a voice at her elbow--for she had spoken the last
+sentence aloud.
+
+The interruption came from George Atkinson. He had been about looking
+for her, and at last had found her. Edina blushed at having allowed
+her words to be heard: as he sat down beside her.
+
+"I was only wishing I knew whether it would be better for me to settle
+near London or at Trennach," she answered with a smile. "It was very
+silly of me to speak aloud."
+
+"Charles Raynor has just informed us that you intend to remain for
+good at Eagles' Nest."
+
+"Oh no, I do not. I have never said I would; and to-morrow I shall tell
+them why. I should like to have a little place of my own; ever so
+little, but my very own. Either at Trennach, or in this neighbourhood:
+or perhaps--in London."
+
+"Both in this neighbourhood and in London," he interrupted. "And,
+sometimes sojourning elsewhere: at the seaside or at Trennach. That is
+what I should recommend."
+
+"You have made me a millionaire in my own estimation, but not quite so
+rich as that," laughed Edina.
+
+"The houses are ready for you, and waiting."
+
+Some peculiarity in his tone made her heart stand still. He turned and
+took her hands in his, speaking softly.
+
+"Edina! Don't you know--have you not guessed--that I want you in my
+houses, my home? Surely you will come to me!--you will not say me nay!
+I know that it is late, very late, for me to say this to you: but I
+will try and make you happy as my wife."
+
+Her pulses went rushing on tumultuously. As the words fell on her ear
+and heart, the truth was suddenly opened to her--she loved him still.
+
+"I am no longer young, George," she whispered, the tears slowly
+coursing down her cheeks.
+
+"Too young for me, Edina. The world may say so."
+
+"And I--I don't know that others can spare me."
+
+"Yes, they can. Had I been wise I should have secured you in the days
+so long gone by, Edina. I have never ceased to care for you. Oh, my
+best friend, my first and only love, say you will come and make the
+sunshine of my home! Say you will."
+
+"I will," she whispered.
+
+And Mr. George Atkinson drew her to him and sheltered her face on his
+breast. After all the sadness and vicissitudes of her life, what a
+haven of rest it felt to Edina!
+
+"There shall be no delay; we cannot afford it. As soon as possible,
+Edina, I shall take you away. And that seven thousand pounds that you
+tried hard to fight me over--you can now transfer it to the others, if
+you like."
+
+"As you will," she breathed. "All as you will from henceforth, George.
+I have found my home: and my master."
+
+"God bless you, my dear one! May He be ever with us, as now, and keep
+us both to the end, in this world and in the next."
+
+The birds sang in the branches; the distant hills were fair and
+smiling; the pale blue sky had never a cloud: all nature spoke of
+peace. And within their own hearts reigned that holy peace and rest
+which comes alone from Heaven; the peace that passeth all
+understanding.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+----------------------------------------------------------------
+PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLES.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Edina, by Mrs. Henry Wood
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 58701 ***