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diff --git a/58774-0.txt b/58774-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a3dacff --- /dev/null +++ b/58774-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,20552 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 58774 *** + + + + + + + + + + + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + 1. Page scan source: Google Books + https://books.google.com/books?id=B05FAQAAMAAJ + Novels, Volume 23 (University of Minnesota) + + + + + + +COURT NETHERLEIGH. + + + + + + + +COURT NETHERLEIGH. +A Novel. + + +BY +MRS. HENRY WOOD, + +AUTHOR OF +"EAST LYNNE," "THE CHANNINGS," "JOHNNY LUDLOW," ETC. + + +Eighteenth Thousand. + + +LONDON: +RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON, +Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen. +1889. +(_All rights reserved_.) + + + + + + +CONTENTS. + +CHAPTER + I. Miss Margery. + II. The Shot. + III. Left To Robert. + IV. At Chenevix House. + V. Lady Adela. + VI. All Down-hill. + VII. Desperation. + VIII. Perversity. + IX. Joseph Horn's Testimony. + X. A Costly Mania. + XI. With Madame Damereau. + XII. A Lecture. + XIII. Folly. + XIV. Lady Adela. + XV. The Day of Reckoning. + XVI. The Diamond Bracelet. + XVII. Driven into Exile. + XVIII. An Unpleasant Rumour. + XIX. Flirtation. + XX. A Present of Coffee. + XXI. Given into Custody. + XXII. "That it may be well with us in after-life." + XXIII. Tracing the Notes. + XXIV. A Disagreeable Expedition. + XXV. Sir Turtle Kite. + XXVI. Infatuation. + XXVII. Separation. + XXVIII. On the Way from Blackheath. + XXIX. A Dreary Life. + XXX. Last Words. + XXXI. In the Old Château. + XXXII. Adela Startled. + XXXIII. Despair. + XXXIV. On Lady Livingstone's Arm. + XXXV. Light at Last. + XXXVI. Visitors at Moat Grange. + XXXVII. An Alarm. + XXXVIII. Robert Dalrymple. + XXXIX. Lady Adela. + XL. At Court Netherleigh. + XLI. Conclusion. + + + + + + +COURT NETHERLEIGH. + + + + +CHAPTER I. +MISS MARGERY. + + +In the midst of the Berkshire scenery, so fair and wealthy, this +pleasant little place, Netherleigh, nestled in a sylvan hollow. It was +only a small, unpretending hamlet at its best, and its rustic +inhabitants were hard-working and simple. + +On a wide extent of country, surrounded on all sides as far as the eye +could reach, with its forests, its hills and valleys, its sparkling +streams, sat many a noble mansion of ancient or modern architecture, +and of more or less note in the county. Farm homesteads might be seen, +surrounded by their outbuildings, their barns and substantial +hayricks. Labourers' cottages were dotted about; and the men +themselves toiled at their several occupations. + +Flanking the village, and looking down upon it from its eminence, rose +the stately walls of Court Netherleigh: an imposing and beautiful +edifice, with which none of the other mansions in the distance could +compare. It was built of red brick, curious but bright-looking, and +its gables and angles were quaint and picturesque in a high degree. +Winding upwards from the village, you came upon the entrance-gates on +the left of the road--great gates of wrought iron, with two smaller +gates beside them. The lodges stood one on each side the gates, roses +and honeysuckles adorning the porches and lower windows. In one of +these lodges, that on the left as you entered, lived the gatekeeper +and his family; in the other the head gardener. Let us, in +imagination, enter the gates. + +It is Monday morning, the first of October, and a lovely day--warm and +sunny. The gatekeeper's wife, a child clinging to her apron, runs to +the door at the sound of steps, lest, haply, the great gates should +need to be thrown open. Seeing only a foot-passenger, she drops a +curtsy. Winding onwards through the drive that surrounds the park, we +see the house itself--Court Netherleigh; a wide, low, picturesque +house: or perhaps it is only its size that makes it look low, for it +is three stories high. At the back, hidden by clustering trees, are +the stables and out-offices. Extensive gardens lie around, which show +a profusion of luscious fruits and choice vegetables, of smooth, green +lawns, miniature rocks, and lovely flowers. Fine old trees give shade +to the park, and the deer may be seen under their spreading branches. +Altogether, the place is noble, and evidently well-cared for. +Whosoever reigns at Court Netherleigh does so with no sparing hand. + +We shall soon see her, for it is a lady. Ascending the three broad +stone steps to the entrance-hall, rooms lie on either hand. These +rooms are not inhabited this morning. We must make our way to the back +of the hall, go down a passage on our right, and open a door at the +end. + +A rather small room, its walls white and gold, its furniture a pale, +subdued green, glass doors standing open to the outer air--this +arrested the eye. It was called Miss Margery's room, and of all the +rooms in Court Netherleigh it was the one that Miss Margery loved +best. + +Miss Margery was seated in it this morning, near the table, sewing +away at a child's garment, intended probably for one of the inmates at +the lodge, or for some little waif in the hamlet. Miss Margery was not +clever at fine work, she was wont to say, but at plain work few could +equal her, and she was never idle. She was a little woman, short and +small, with a fair complexion and plain features, possessing more than +her share of good sense, and was very active and energetic, as little +people often are. She always wore silk. Her gown this morning was of +her favourite colour, violet, with a large lace collar fastened by a +gold brooch, and black lace mittens under her lace-edged sleeves. She +wore also a white clear-muslin apron with a braided border. The +fashion of these aprons had come in when Miss Margery was a much +younger woman, and she would not give them up. She need not have worn +a cap, for her hair was still abundant; but in those days middle-aged +ladies wore caps, and Miss Margery was turned fifty. She wore her hair +in ringlets, also the custom then, and her lace lappets fell behind +them. This was Miss Upton, generally in the house called Miss Margery, +the owner of Court Netherleigh and its broad lands. + +The glass doors of the French windows opened to the lawn, on which +were beds of mignonette and other sweet-scented flowers, a fountain +playing in their midst. At the open window, one of them just outside, +the other within, stood two young girls in the first blush of +womanhood. The elder, Frances, had light hair and a piquant, saucy +face; it had no particular beauty to recommend it, but her temper was +very sweet, and her manner was charming. Hence Frances Chenevix was a +general favourite. Her sister, one year younger than herself, and just +nineteen, was beautiful. Her hair and eyes were of a bright brown, her +features faultless, and the colour on her cheeks was delicate as a +blush-rose. The sisters were of middle height, graceful and slender, +and eminently distinguished in bearing. They wore morning dresses of +pink cambric--a favourite material in those bygone days. + +The elder, standing outside, had her hand to her eyes, shading them +from the light while she looked out steadily. The window faced the +open country on the side farthest from the village, which lay on the +other side of the house. About half-a-mile away might be seen the +irregular chimneys of an old-fashioned house, called Moat Grange, with +whose inmates they were intimate; and in that direction she was +gazing. + +"Do you happen to have some opera-glasses, Aunt Margery? she suddenly +asked, turning to the room as she spoke. + +"There are some in the blue drawing-room. Adela can fetch them for +you. They are in the table-drawer, my dear. But what do you want to +look at, Frances?" added Miss Upton, as Adela went in search of the +glasses. + +"Only at a group in the road there. I cannot make out whether or not +they are the people from the Grange. If so--they may be coming here. +But they seem to be standing still. + +"Some labourers mending the road," quietly spoke Miss Upton. + +"No, Aunt Margery, I don't think so; I am almost sure I can +distinguish bonnets. Something is glittering in the sun." + +"Do bonnets glitter, Frances?" + +Frances laughed. "Selina has some sparkling grass in hers. Did you not +notice it yesterday in church?" + +"Not I," said Miss Upton; "but I can take your word for it. Selina +Dalrymple is more fond of dress than a Frenchwoman. Want of sense and +love of finery often go together," added Miss Upton, looking off her +work to re-thread her needle: and Frances Chenevix nodded assent. + +She stood looking out at the landscape: at the signs of labour to be +seen around. The harvest was gathered, but much outdoor work lay to +hand. Waggoners paced slowly beside their teams, with a crack now and +again of the whip, or a word of encouragement to the leading horse. At +this moment the sound of a gun was heard in the direction of Moat +Grange. Frances exclaimed-- + +"Aunt Margery, they are shooting!" + +"Well, my dear, is that anything unusual on the first of October?" +spoke Miss Upton, smiling. "Robert Dalrymple would think it strange if +he did not go out today to bag his pheasants--poor things! I dare say +it was his gun you heard." + +"And there's another--and another!" cried the young lady. "They are +shooting away! Adela must have run away with the glasses, Aunt +Margery." + +Adela Chenevix had gone, listlessly enough, into the blue room: one of +the magnificent drawing-rooms in front, its colours pale blue and +silver. She opened the first table-drawer she came to; but did not see +any glasses. Then she glanced about in other directions. + +"Janet," she called to a maid-servant passing the door, "do you know +where the opera-glasses are?" + +"The opera-glasses," returned the girl, entering. "No, I don't, my +lady." + +"Aunt Margery said they were in this room." + +"I know Miss Margery had them a few days ago. She was looking through +them at the rick that was on fire over yonder. I'll look in the other +rooms, my lady." + +Adela, sat down near the window, and fell into a train of thought. The +maid came back, saying she could not find the glasses: and the young +lady forgot all about them, and sat on. + +"Well," said Miss Margery, interrupting her presently, "and where are +the glasses you were sent for, Adela? And what's the matter?" + +Adela started up; the blush-rose on her cheek deepening to a rich +damask. + +"I--I am afraid I forgot all about them, Aunt Margery. I can't find +them." + +Miss Upton walked to the further end of the large room, opened the +drawer of a small table, and took out the glasses. + +"Oh," said Adela, repentantly; "it was in this table that I looked, +Aunt Margery." + +"No doubt. But you should have looked in this one also, Adela. I hope +the child has not got that Captain Stanley in her mind still, worrying +herself over his delinquencies?" mentally concluded Miss Upton for her +own private benefit. + +They went back to the other room together. Frances Chenevix eagerly +took the delayed glasses, used them, and put them down with a +disappointed air. + +"They are road labourers, Aunt Margery, and nothing else." + +"To be sure, my dear," calmly returned Miss Upton, settling to her +sewing again. + +The owner of Court Netherleigh, preceding Miss Margery, was Sir +Francis Netherleigh; his baronetcy being of old creation. Sir Francis +had lived at the Court with his wife, very quietly: they had no +children: and if both of them were of a saving, not to say +parsimonious, turn of mind, the fact might be accounted for, and +justified by their circumstances. Some of his ancestors had been +wofully extravagant: and before he, Sir Francis, was born, his +father and grandfather had contrived together to out off the +entail. The title had of course to go to the next male heir; but the +property--what was left of it--need not do so. However, it was +eventually willed in the right direction, and Francis Netherleigh came +into the estate and title when he was a young man. He married a +prudent, good woman, of gentle but not high lineage; they cheerfully +set themselves to the work of repairing what their forefathers had +destroyed, and by the time Sir Francis was five-and-fifty years of +age, the estate was again bringing in its full revenues of fifteen +thousand a-year. Lady Netherleigh died about that time, and Sir +Francis, as a widower, continued to live the same quiet, economical, +unceremonious life that he and his wife had lived together. He was a +religious, good man. + +Naturally, the question, to whom Sir Francis would bequeath the +estate, became a matter of speculation with sundry gossips--who +always, you are aware, take more interest in our own affairs than we +take ourselves. The title would lapse; that was known; unless indeed +Sir Francis should marry again and have a son. The only relatives he +had in the world were three distant female cousins. + +The eldest of these young ladies in point of years was Catherine +Grant; the second was Margery Upton; and the third was Elizabeth +Cleveland. Margery and Elizabeth were cousins in a third degree to one +another; but they were not related to Catherine. The young ladies met +occasionally at Court Netherleigh; for Sir Francis invariably invited +all three of them together; never one alone. They corresponded at +other times, and were good friends. The first to marry was Catherine +Grant. She became the wife of one Christopher Grubb, a merchant of +standing in the City of London. That, you must understand, was thirty +years before this month of October we are writing about: and _this_ +again was many years prior to the present time. + +In those days, to be in trade, no matter of how high a class it might +be, was looked upon by the upper classes as next door to being in +Purgatory. For all social purposes you might almost as well have been +in the one as the other. Trading was nothing less than a social crime. +Opinions have wonderfully altered now; but many will remember that +what I state is true. Therefore, when Catherine Grant, who was of +gentle blood, so far forgot what was due to herself and her friends as +to espouse Mr. Grubb, she was held to have degraded herself for ever. +What with the man's name, and what with his counting-house, poor +Catherine had effectually placed herself beyond the pale of society. A +few sharp, severe letters were written to her; one by Sir Francis +Netherleigh, one each by the two remaining young ladies. They told her +she had lost caste--and, in good truth, she had done so. From that +hour Mrs. Grubb was consigned to oblivion, the fate she was deemed to +have richly merited: and it may really be questioned whether in a few +years she was not absolutely forgotten. As the daughter of a small +country rector, Miss Grant had not had the opportunity of moving in +the higher ranks of society (except at Sir Francis Netherleigh's), and +the other two young ladies did move in it. She had, consequently, been +already privately looked down upon by Elizabeth Cleveland--whose +father, though a poor half-pay captain, was the Honourable Mr. +Cleveland: and so, said Elizabeth, the girl had perhaps made a +suitable match, after all, according to her station; all which made it +only the more easy to ignore Catherine Grubb's existence, and to +forget that such a person had ever inhabited the civilized world. The +next to marry was Elizabeth Cleveland. Her choice fell upon a +spendthrift young peer, George Frederick Chenevix, Earl of Acorn: or, +it may be more correct to say, his choice fell upon her. Margaret +Upton remained single. + +Years went on. Lord and Lady Acorn took care to keep up an intimacy +with Sir Francis Netherleigh, privately hoping he would make the earl +his heir. The earl needed it: he was a careless spendthrift. But Sir +Francis never gave them, or any one else, the slightest sign of such +intention--and Lord Acorn's hopes were based solely on the fact that +he had "no one else to leave it to;" he had no male heir, or other +relative, himself excepted. He, the earl, chose to consider that he +was a relative, in right of his wife. + +Disappointment, however, as all have too often experienced, is the lot +of man. Lord Acorn was fated to experience it in his turn. Sir Francis +Netherleigh died: and, with the exception of legacies to servants and +sundry charities, the whole of his property was left unconditionally +to Margery Upton. Miss Upton, though probably as much surprised as any +one else, accepted the large bequest calmly, just as though it had +been a matter of right, and she the heiress-apparent; and she took up +her abode at Court Netherleigh. + +This was fourteen years ago; she was eight-and-thirty then; she was +two-and-fifty now. Miss Upton had not wanted for suitors--as the world +will readily believe: but she only shook her head and sent them all +adrift. It was her money they wanted, not herself, she told them +candidly; they had not thought of her when she was supposed to be +portionless; they should not think of her now. Thus she had lived on +at Court Netherleigh, and was looked upon as a somewhat eccentric +lady; but a thoroughly good woman and a kind mistress. And the Acorns? +They had swallowed their bitter disappointment with a good grace to +the world; and set themselves out to pay the same assiduous court to +Miss Upton that they had paid to Sir Francis. "I don't think hers will +be a long life," Lady Acorn said in confidence to her lord, "and then +all the property must come to us; to you and to me: she has no other +relative on earth." + +The world at large took up the same idea, and Lord Acorn was +universally regarded as the undoubted heir to the broad lands of +Netherleigh. As to the peer himself, nothing short of a revelation +from heaven would have shaken his belief in the earnest of their +future good fortune; and, between ourselves, he had already borrowed +money on the strength of it. There never existed a more sanguine or +less prudent man than he. The young ladies now staying with Miss Upton +were his two youngest daughters. In the gushing affection professed +for her by the family generally, the girls had been trained to call +her "Aunt Margery:" though, as the reader perceives, she was not their +aunt at all; in fact, only very distantly related to them. + +"Tiresome things!" cried Lady Frances, toying with the glasses still, +but looking towards the distant group of labourers. "I wish it had +been the Dalrymples on their way here." + +"You can put on your hats and go to Moat Grange, as you seem so +anxious to see them," observed Miss Upton. "And you may ask the young +people to come in this evening, if you like." + +"Oh, that will be delightful," cried Frances, all alert in a moment. +"And that young lady who was at church with them, Aunt Margery--are we +to ask her also? They called her Miss Lynn." + +"Of course you are. What strangely beautiful eyes she had." + +"Thank you, Aunt Margery," whispered Adela, bending down with a kiss +and a bright smile, as she passed Miss Upton. Not that Adela +particularly cared for the Dalrymples; but the days at Court +Netherleigh were, to her, very monotonous. + +The girls set forth in their pretty gipsy straw hats, trimmed with a +wreath of roses. It was not a lonely walk, cottages being scattered +about on the way. When nearing the Grange they met a party coming from +it; Selina and Alice Dalrymple, the latter slightly lame, and a young +lady just come to visit them, Mary Isabel Lynn: a thoughtful girl, +with a fair, sweet countenance, and wonderful grey-blue eyes. Gerard +Hope was with them: a bright young fellow, who was a Government clerk +in London, and liked to run down to Moat Grange for Sundays as often +as he could find decent excuse for doing so. + +"So you _are_ here!" cried Frances to him, in her offhand manner--and +perhaps the thought that he might be there had been the secret cause +of her impatience to meet the Dalrymples. "What have you to say for +yourself, Mr. Gerard--after protesting and vowing yesterday that the +earliest morning train would not more certainly start than you." + +"Don't know what I shall say up there," returned Mr. Hope, nodding his +head in what might be the direction of London. "When I took French +leave to remain over Monday last time they told me I should some day +take it once too often." + +"You can put it upon the shooting, you know, Gerard," interposed +Selina. "No barbarous tyrant of a red-tape martinet could expect you +to go up and leave the pheasants on the first of October. Put it to +him whether he could." + +"And he will ask you how many pair you bagged, and look round for +those you have brought for himself--see if he does not," laughed Mary +Lynn. + +"But Gerard is not shooting," commented Frances. + +"No," said Gerard, "these girls kept me. Now, Selina, don't deny it: +you know you did." + +"What a story!" retorted Selina. "If ever I met your equal, Gerard! +You remained behind of your own accord. Put it upon me, if you like. +_I_ know. It was not for me you stayed." + +Frances Chenevix glanced at the delicate and too conscious face of +Alice Dalrymple. Mr. Gerard Hope was a general admirer; but these two +girls, Frances and Alice, were both rather dear to him--one of them, +however, more so than the other. Were they destined to be rivals? +Frances delivered Miss Margery's invitation; and it was eagerly +accepted: but not by Gerard. He really had to start for town by the +midday train. + +"Will Miss Margery extend her invitation to Oscar, do you think?" +asked Alice, in her quiet voice. "He is staying with us." + +"To be sure: the more, the merrier," assented Frances. "Not that Oscar +is one of my especial favourites," added the outspoken girl. "He is +too solemn for me. Why, he is graver than a judge." + +They all rambled on together. Gerard Hope and Frances somehow found +themselves behind the others. + +"Why did you stay today?" the girl asked him, in low tones. "After +saying yesterday that it was simply impossible!" + +"Could not tear myself away," he whispered back again. "For one thing, +I thought I might again see _you_." + +"Are you playing two games, Gerard?" continued Frances, giving him a +keen glance. In truth she would like to know. + +"I am not playing at one yet," answered the young man. "It would not +do, you know." + +"What would not do? As if any one could make anything of your talk +when you go in for obscurity!" she added, with a light laugh, as she +gave a toss to her pretty hat. + +"Were I to attempt to talk less obscurely, I should soon be set down; +therefore I never--we must conclude--shall do it," spoke he, in pained +and strangely earnest tones. And with that Mr. Hope walked forward to +join the others, leaving a line of pain on the fair open brow of Lady +Frances Chenevix. + + + + +CHAPTER II. +THE SHOT. + + +They had brought down the pheasants: never had a first of October +afforded better spoil: and they had lingered long at the sport, for +evening was drawing on. Robert Dalrymple, the head of the party and +owner of Moat Grange--a desolate grange enough, to look at, with the +remains of a moat around it, long since filled in--aimed at the last +bird he meant to hit that day, and missed it. He handed his gun to his +gamekeeper. + +"Shall I load again, sir?" + +"No; we have done enough for one day, Hardy: and it is getting late. +Come, Robert. Oscar, are you satisfied?" + +"He must be greedy if he is not," broke in the hearty voice of the +Honourable and Reverend Thomas Cleveland, the Rector of Netherleigh, +who had joined the shooting-party, and who was related to Lady Acorn, +though very distantly: for, some twenty years ago, the Earldom of +Cleveland had lapsed to a distant branch. + +"You will come home and dine with us, Cleveland?" spoke Mr. Dalrymple, +as they turned their faces towards the Grange. + +"What, in this trim? Mrs. Dalrymple would say I made myself free and +easy." + +"Nonsense! You know we don't stand upon ceremony. James will give your +boots a brush. And, if you insist on being smart, I will lend you a +coat." + +"You have lent me one before now. Thank you. Then I don't care if I +do," concluded the Rector. + +He had not time to go home and change his things. The Rectory and the +Grange stood a good mile apart from each other, the village lying +between them--and the dinner-hour was at hand. For the hours of that +period were not the fashionable ones of these, when people dine at +eight o'clock. Five o'clock was thought to be the proper hour then, or +six at the latest, especially with unceremonious country people. As to +parsons, they wore clothes cut as other people's were cut, only that +the coats were generally black. + +"Look out, Robert," cried Mr. Cleveland to young Dalrymple. "Stand +away." And, turning round, the Rector fired his gun in the air. + +"What is that for?" demanded Oscar Dalrymple, a relative of the +family, who was staying for a day or two at the Grange. + +"I never carry home my gun loaded," was Mr. Cleveland's answer. "I +have too many young ones to risk it; they are in all parts of the +house at once, putting their hands to everything. Neither do I think +it fair to carry it into the house of a friend." + +Oscar Dalrymple drew down the corners of his mouth; it gave an +unpleasing expression to his face, which was naturally cold. At that +moment a bird rose within range; Oscar raised his piece, fired and +brought it down. "That," said he, "is how I like to waste good powder +and shot." + +"All right, Mr. Oscar," was the Rector's hearty answer. "To use it is +better than to waste it, but to waste it is better than to run risks. +Most of the accidents that happen with guns are caused by want of +precaution." + +"Shall I draw your charge, Mr. Robert?" asked Hardy; who, as a good +church-going man, had a reverence for all the Rector said, in the +church and out of it. + +"Draw the charge from _my_ gun!" retorted Hardy's young master; not, +however, speaking within ear-shot of Mr. Cleveland. "No. I can take +care of my playthings, if others can't, Hardy," he added, with all the +self-sufficiency of a young and vain man. + +Presently there came up a substantial farmer, winding across the +stubble towards his own house, which they were passing. He rented +under Mr. Dalrymple. + +"Famous good sport today, hasn't it been, Squire?" cried he, saluting +his landlord. + +"Famous. Never better. Will you accept a pair, Lee?" continued Mr. +Dalrymple. "We have bagged plenty." + +The farmer gladly took the pheasants. "I shall tell my daughters you +shot them on purpose, Squire," said he, jestingly. + +"Do," interposed Robert, with a laugh. "Tell Miss Judith I shot them +for her: in return for her sewing up that rent in my coat, the other +day, and making me decent to go home. Is the fence, where I fell, +mended yet?" + +"Mended yet?" echoed Mr. Lee. "It was up again in an hour after you +left, Mr. Robert." + +"Ah! I know you are the essence of order and punctuality," returned +Robert. "You must let me have the cost." + +"Time enough for that," said the farmer. "'Twasn't much. +Good-afternoon, gentlemen; your servant, Squire." + +"Oh--I say--Lee," called out Robert, as the farmer was turning +homewards, while the rest of the party pursued their way, "about the +mud in that weir? Hardy says it will hurt the fish to do it now." + +"That's just what I told you, Mr. Robert." + +"Well, then---- But I'll come down tomorrow, and talk it over with +you: I can't stop now." + +"As you please, sir. I shall be somewhere about." + +Robert Dalrymple turned too hastily. His foot caught against something +sticking out of the stubble, and in saving himself he nearly dropped +his gun. He recovered the gun with a jerk, but the trigger was +touched, he never knew how, or with what, and the piece went off. A +cry in front, a confusion, one man down, and the others gathered round +him, was all Robert Dalrymple saw, as through a mist. He dropped the +gun, started forward, and gave vent to a cry of anguish. For it was +his father who had fallen. + +The most collected was Oscar Dalrymple. He always was collected; his +nature was essentially cool and calm. Holding up Mr. Dalrymple's head +and shoulders, he strove to ascertain where the injury lay. Though +very pale, and lying with closed eyes, Mr. Dalrymple had not fainted. + +"Oh, father," cried Robert, as he throw himself on his knees beside +him in a passion of grief, "I did not do it purposely--I don't know +how it happened." + +"Purposely--no, my boy," answered his father, in a kind tone, as he +opened his eyes. "Cheer up, Charley." For, in fond moments, and at +other odd times, they would call the boy by his second name, Charles. +Robert often clashed with his father's. + +"I do not believe there's much harm done," said the sufferer. "I think +the damage is in my left leg." + +Mr. Dalrymple was right. The charge had entered the calf of the leg. +Oscar cut the leg of the trouser round at the knee with a penknife, +unbuttoned the short gaiter, and drew them off, and the boot. The +blood was running freely. As a matter of course, not a soul knew what +ought to be done, whether anything or nothing, all being profoundly +ignorant of the simple principles of surgery, but they stumbled to the +conclusion that tying it up might stop the blood. + +"Not that handkerchief," interposed Mr. Cleveland, as Oscar was about +to apply Mr. Dalrymple's own, a red silk one. "Take mine: it is white, +and linen. The first thing will be to get him home." + +"The first thing must be to get a doctor," said Oscar. + +"Of course. But we can move him home while the doctor is coming." + +"My house is close at hand," said Farmer Lee. "Better move him there +for the present." + +"No; get me home," spoke up Mr. Dalrymple. + +"The Squire thinks that home's home," commented the gamekeeper. "And +so it is; 'specially when one's sick." + +True enough. The difficulty was, how to get Mr. Dalrymple there. But +necessity, as we all know, is the true mother of invention: and by the +help of a mattress, procured from the farmer's, with impromptu +bearings attached to it made of "webbing," as Mr. Lee's buxom daughter +called some particularly strong tape she happened to have by her, the +means were organized. Some labourers, summoned by Mr. Lee, were +pressed into the service; with Oscar Dalrymple, the farmer, and the +gamekeeper. These started with their load. Robert, in a state of +distraction, had flown off for medical assistance; Mr. Cleveland had +volunteered to go forward and prepare Mrs. Dalrymple. + +Mrs. Dalrymple, with her daughters and their guest, Mary Lynn, sat in +one of the old-fashioned rooms of the Grange, they and dinner alike +awaiting the return of the shooting-party. Old-fashioned as regarded +its construction and its carved-oak panelling--dark as mahogany, but +handsome withal--and opening into a larger and lighter drawing room. +Mrs. Dalrymple, an agreeable woman of three or four and forty, had +risen, and was bending over Miss Lynn's tambour-frame, telling her it +was growing too dusk to see. Selina Dalrymple sat at the piano, trying +a piece of new music, talking and laughing at the same time; and +Alice, always more or less of an invalid, lay on her reclining sofa +near the window. + +"Here is Mr. Cleveland," cried Alice, seeing him pass. "I said he +would be sure to come here to dinner, mamma." + +Mrs. Dalrymple raised her head, and went, in her simple, hospitable +fashion, to open the hall-door. He followed her back to the +oak-parlour, and stood just within it. + +"What a long day you have had!" she exclaimed. "I think you must all +be tired. Where are the others?" + +"They are behind," replied the clergyman. He had been determining to +make light of the accident at first telling; quite a joke of it; to +prevent alarm. "We have bagged such a quantity, Mrs. Dalrymple: and +your husband has asked me to dinner: and is going to accommodate me +with a coat as well. Oh, but, talking of bagging, and dinner, and +coats, I hope you have plenty of hot water in the house; baths, and +all the rest of it. One of us has hurt his leg, and we may want no end +of hot water to bathe it." + +"That is Charley, I know," said Selina. "He is always getting into +some scrape. Look at what he did at Lee's last week." + +"No; it is not Charley for once. Guess again." + +"Is it Oscar?" + +"Oscar!" interposed Alice, from her sofa. "Oscar is too cautious to +get hurt." + +"What should you say to its being me?" said Mr. Cleveland, sitting +down, and stretching out one leg, as if it were stiff and he could not +bend it. + +"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Dalrymple, running forward with a +footstool. "How did it happen? You ought not to have walked home." + +"No," said he, "my leg is all right. It is Dalrymple's leg: he has +hurt his a little." + +"How did he do it? Is it the knee? Did he fall?" was reiterated +around. + +"It is nothing," interrupted Mr. Cleveland. "But we would not let him +walk home. And I came on to tell you, lest you should be alarmed at +seeing him brought in." + +"Brought in!" echoed Mrs. Dalrymple. "How do you mean? Who is bringing +him?" + +"Hardy and Farmer Lee. Left to himself, he might have been for running +here, leaping the ditches over the shortest cut; so we just made him +lie down on a mattress, and they are carrying it. Miss Judith supplied +us." + +"Has he sprained his leg?" + +"No," carelessly returned Mr. Cleveland. "He has managed to get a +little shot into it; but----" + +"Shot!" interrupted Mrs. Dalrymple, in frightened tones. "_Shot?_" + +"It is nothing, I assure you. A very slight wound. He will be out with +us again in a week." + +"Oh, Mr. Cleveland!" she faintly cried. "Is it serious?" + +"Serious!" laughed the well-intentioned clergyman. "My dear lady, +don't you see how merry I am? The most serious part is the leg of the +trousers. Oscar, taking alarm, like you, decapitated it at the knee. +The trousers will never be fit to wear again," added Mr. Cleveland, +with a grave face. + +"We will turn them over to Robert's stock," said Selina. "I am sure, +what with one random action or another, half his clothes are in +ribands." + +"How was it done?" inquired Alice. + +"An accident," slightingly replied Mr. Cleveland. "One never does know +too well how such mishaps occur." + +"We must send for a doctor," observed Mrs. Dalrymple, ringing the +bell. "However slight it may be, I shall not know how to treat it." + +"We thought of that, and Robert is gone for Forth," said the Rector, +as he turned away. + +In the passage he met Reuben, a staid, respectable manservant who had +been in the family many years; his healthy face was ruddy as a summer +apple, and his head, bald on the top, was sprinkled with powder. Mr. +Cleveland told him what had happened; he then went to the back-door, +and stood there, looking out--his hands in the pockets of his +velveteen coat. Selina came quietly up; she was trembling. + +"Mr. Cleveland," she whispered, "is it not worse than you have said? I +think you have been purposely making light of it. Pray tell me the +truth. You know I am not excitable: I leave that to Alice." + +"My dear, in one sense I made light of it, because I wished to prevent +unnecessary alarm. But I assure you I do not fear it is any serious +hurt." + +"Was it papa's own gun that went off?" + +"No." + +"Whose, then?" + +"Robert's." + +"Oh!--but I might have known it," she added, her shocked tone giving +place to one of anger. "Robert is guilty of carelessness every day of +his life--of wanton recklessness." + +"Robert is careless," acknowledged Mr. Cleveland. "You know, my dear, +it is said to be a failing of the Dalrymples. But he has a good heart; +and he is always so sorry for his faults." + +"Yes; his life is made up of sinning and repenting." + +"Sinning!" + +"I call such carelessness sin," maintained Selina. "To think he should +have shot papa!" + +"My dear, you are looking at it in the worst aspect. I believe it will +prove only a trifling injury. But, to see him borne here on a +mattress, minus the leg of his pantaloons, and his own leg bandaged, +might have frightened some of you into fits. Go back to the +oak-parlour, Selina; and don't let Alice run out of it at the first +slight sound she may chance to hear." + +Selina did as she was told: Mr. Cleveland stayed where he was. Very +soon he distinguished the steady tread of feet approaching; and at the +same time he saw, to his surprise, the gig of the surgeon turning off +from the road. How quick Robert had been! + +Quick indeed! Robert, as it proved, had met the surgeon's gig, and in +it himself and Dr. Tyler, a physician from the nearest town. They had +been together to a consultation. Robert, light and slim, had got into +the gig between them. He was now the first to get out; and he began +rushing about like a madman. The clergyman went forth and laid hands +upon him. + +"You will do more harm than you have already done, young sir, unless +you can control yourself. Here have I been at the pains of impressing +upon your mother and sisters that it is nothing more than a flea-bite, +and you are going to upset it all! Be calm before them, at any rate." + +"Oh, Mr. Cleveland! You talk of calmness! Perhaps I have killed my +father." + +"I hope not. But I dare say a great deal depends upon his being kept +quiet and tranquil. Remember that. If you cannot," added Mr. +Cleveland, walking him forward a few paces, "I will just march you +over to the Rectory, and keep you there until all fear of danger is +over." + +Robert rallied his senses with an effort. "I will be calm; I promise +you. Repentance," he continued, bitterly, "will do _him_ no good, so I +had better keep it to myself. I wish I had shot off my own head +first!" + +"There, you begin again! _Will_ you be quiet?" + +"Yes, I will. I'll go and stamp about where no one can see me, and get +rid of myself in that way." + +He escaped from Mr. Cleveland, made his way to the kitchen-garden, and +began striding about amidst the autumn cabbages. Poor Robert! he +really felt as though it would be a mercy if his head were off. He was +good-hearted, generous, and affectionate, but thoughtless and +impulsive. + +As the gamekeeper was departing, after helping to carry the mattress +upstairs, he caught sight of his young master's restless movements, +and went to him. + +"Ah, Mr. Robert, it's bad enough, but racing about won't do no good. +If you had but let me draw that there charge! Mr. Cleveland's ideas is +sure to be right: the earl's always was, afore him." + +Robert went on "racing" about worse than before, clearing a dozen +cabbages at a stride. "How did my father bear the transport home, +Hardy?" + +"Pretty well. A bit faintish he got." + +"Hardy, I will _never_ touch a gun again." + +"I don't suppose you will, Mr. Robert--not till the next time. You may +touch 'em, sir, but you must be more careful of 'em." + +Robert groaned. + +"This is the second accident of just the same sort that I have been +in," continued Hardy. "The other was at the earl's, when I was a +youngster. Not Mr. Cleveland's father, you know, sir; t'other earl +afore him, over at t'other place. Two red-coat blades had come down +there for a week's sport, and one of 'em (he seemed to us keepers as +if he had never handled a gun in all his born days) got the shot into +the other's calf--just as it has been got this evening into the +Squire's. That was a worse accident, though, than this will be, I +hope. He was laid up at the inn, close by where it happened, for six +weeks, for they thought it best not to carry him to the Hall, and +then----" + +"And then--did it terminate fatally?" interrupted Robert, scarcely +above his breath. + +"Law, no, sir! At the end of the six weeks he was on his legs, as +strong as ever, and went back to London--or wherever it was he came +from." + +Robert Dalrymple drew a relieved breath. "I shall go in and hear what +the surgeons say," said he, restlessly. "And you go round to the +kitchen, Hardy, and tell them to give you some tea; or anything else +you'd like." + +Miss Lynn was in the oak-parlour alone, standing before the fire, when +Robert entered. + +"Oh, Robert," she said, "I wanted to see you. Do you fear this will be +very bad?--very serious?" + +"I don't know," was the desponding answer. + +"Whose gun was it that did the mischief?" + +"Whose gun! Have you not heard?" he broke forth, in tones of fierce +self-reproach. "MINE, of course. And if he dies, I shall have murdered +him." + +Mary Lynn was used to Robert's heroics; but she looked terribly +grieved now. + +"I see what you think, Mary," he said, being in the mood to view all +things in a gloomy light: "that you will be better without me than +with me. Cancel our engagement, if you will. I cannot say that I do +not deserve it." + +"No, Robert, I was not thinking of that," she answered. Tears rose to +her eyes, and glistened in the firelight. "I was wondering whether I +could say or do anything to induce you to be less thoughtless; +less----" + +"Less like a fool. Say it out, Mary." + +"You are anything but that, and you know it. Only you will act so much +upon impulse. You think, speak, move and act without the slightest +deliberation or forethought. It is all random impulse." + +"Impulse could hardly have been at fault here, Mary. It was a horrible +accident, and I shall deplore it to the last hour of my life." + +"How did it happen?" + +"I cannot tell. I had been speaking with Lee, gun in hand, and was +turning short round to catch up the others, when the gun went off. +Possibly the trigger caught my coat-sleeve--I cannot tell. Yes, that +was pure accident, Mary: but there's something worse connected with +it." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Mr. Cleveland had just before fired off his gun, because he would not +bring it indoors loaded. Hardy asked if he should draw the charge from +mine, and I answered him, mockingly, that I could take good care of +it. Why did I not let him do it?" added the young man, beginning to +stride the room in his remorse as he had previously been striding the +bed of cabbages. "What an idiot I was!--a wicked, self-sufficient +imbecile! You had better give me up at once, Mary." + +She turned and glanced at him with a smile. It brought him back to her +side, and he laid his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes +by the light of the fire. + +"It may be to your interest," he whispered, in agitation. "Some day I +may be shooting you, in one of my careless moods. What do you say, +Mary?" + +She said nothing. She only leaned slightly forward and smiled. Robert +threw his arms around her, and strained her to him in all the fervency +of a first affection. "My darling, my darling! Mary, you are too good +for me." + +They were nice-looking young people, both of them, and in love with +one another. Robert was three-and-twenty; she only nineteen; and the +world looked fair before them. But, that she was too good for him, was +a greater truth than Mr. Robert thought. + +Stir was heard in the house now; the medical men were coming +downstairs. Their report was favourable. The bleeding had been +stopped, the shots extracted, and there was no appearance of danger. A +little confinement, perfect quiet, and proper treatment, would, they +hoped, soon set all to rights again. + +Dinner had not been thought of. When the cook had nearly succumbed to +despair, and Mr. Dalrymple had dropped into a calm sleep, and the +anxious ones were gathered together in the oak-parlour, Reuben came +in, and said the soup was on the table. + +"Then I will wish you all a good appetite, and be gone," said the +Rector to Mrs. Dalrymple. + +"Indeed you will not go without some dinner." + +"I am in a pretty state for dinner," said he, "and I can't worry +Dalrymple about coats now. Look at me." + +"Oh, Mr. Cleveland do you think we shall regard your coat! Is this a +time to be fastidious? We are not very much dressed ourselves." + +"No?" said the Rector, regarding them. "I am sure you all look well. +You are not in shooting-jackets and gaiters and inch-thick boots." + +"I am going to sit down as I am," interrupted Robert, who had not +changed a thing since he came in. "A fellow with a dreadful care at +his heart has not the pluck to put on a dandy-cut coat." + +Mrs. Dalrymple ended the matter by taking the Rector's arm and bearing +him off to the dining-room. The rest followed. Oscar met them in the +hall--dressed. He was a small, spare man, cool and self-contained in +all emergencies, and fastidious in his habits, even to the putting on +of proper coats. His colourless face was rather unpleasing at times, +though its features were good, the eyes cold and light, the in-drawn +lips thin. Catching Selina's hand, he took her in. + +It was a lively dinner-table, after all. Hope had arisen in every +heart, and Mr. Cleveland was at his merriest. He had great faith in +cheerful looks round a sick-bed, and he did not want desponding ones +to be displayed to his friend, Dalrymple. + +Before the meal was over, a carriage was beard to approach the house. +It contained Miss Upton. The news of the accident had spread; it +had reached Court Netherleigh; and Miss Upton got up from her own +dinner-table and ordered her carriage. She came in, all concern, +penetrating to the midst of them in her unceremonious way. "And the +fault was _Robert's!_" she exclaimed, after listening to the recital, +as she turned her condemning eyes upon the culprit. "I am sorry to +hear _that_." + +"You cannot blame me as I blame myself, Miss Upton," he said +ingenuously, a moisture dimming his sight. "I am always doing wrong; I +know that. But this time it was really an accident that might have +happened to any one. Even to Oscar, with all his prudence." + +"I beg your pardon, young man; you are wrong there," returned Miss +Upton. "Oscar Dalrymple would have taken care to hold his gun so that +it _could not_ go off unawares. Never you fear that he will shoot any +one. I hope and trust your father will get well, Robert Dalrymple; and +I hope you will let this be a lesson to you." + +"I mean it to be one," humbly answered Robert. + +Miss Upton carried the three young ladies back to Court Netherleigh, +leaving Oscar and Robert to follow on foot: no reason why they should +not go, she told them, and it would help to keep the house quiet for +its master. + +"Will it prove of serious consequence, this hurt?" she took an +opportunity of asking aside of Mr. Cleveland, as she was going out to +the carriage. + +"No, I hope not. I think not. It is only a few stray shots in the +leg." + +"I don't like those stray shots in the leg, mind you," returned Miss +Upton. + +"Neither do I, in a general way," confessed the Rector. + +Thinking of this, and of that, Miss Upton was silent during the drive +home. But it never did, or could, enter into her imagination to +suppose that the fair girl, with the sweet and thoughtful grey-blue +eyes, sitting opposite her--eyes that somehow did not seem altogether +unfamiliar to her memory--was the daughter of that friend of her +girlhood, Catherine Grant. + + + + +CHAPTER III. +LEFT TO ROBERT. + + +The eighth day after the accident to Mr. Dalrymple was a day of +rejoicing, for he was so far recovered as to be up for some hours. A +sofa was drawn before the fire, and he lay on it. The symptoms had all +along been favourable, and he now merrily told them that if any one +had written to order him a cork leg, he thought it might be +countermanded. Mr. Cleveland, a frequent visitor, privately decided +that the thanksgiving for his recovery might be offered up in church +on the following Sunday--such being the custom in the good and simple +place. They all rejoiced with him, paying visits to his chamber by +turns. Alice and Miss Lynn had been in together during the afternoon: +when they were leaving, he beckoned the latter back, but Alice did not +notice, and went limping away. Any great trouble affected Alice +Dalrymple's spirits sadly, and her lameness would then be more +conspicuous. + +"Do you want me to do anything for you?" asked Mary, returning, and +bending over the sofa. + +"Yes," said Mr. Dalrymple, taking possession of both her hands, and +looking up with an arch smile: "I want you to tell me what the secret +is between you and that graceless Robert." + +Mary Lynn's eyes dropped, and her face grew scarlet. She was unable to +speak. + +"_Won't_ you tell me?" repeated Mr. Dalrymple. + +"Has he been--saying anything to you, sir?" she faltered. + +"Not he. Not a word. Some one else told me they saw that he and Miss +Lynn had a secret between them, which might possibly bear results some +day." + +She burst into tears, got one of her hands free, and held it before +her face. + +"Nay, my dear," he kindly said, "I did not wish to make you +uncomfortable; quite the contrary. I want just to say one thing, +child: that if you and he are wishing to talk secrets to one another, +I and my wife will not say nay to it: and from a word your mother +dropped to me the last time I was in town, I don't think she would +either. Dry up your tears, Mary; it is a laughing matter, not a crying +one. Robert is frightfully random at times, but he is good as gold at +heart. I invite you and him to drink tea with me this evening. There." + +Mary escaped, half smiles, half tears. And she and Robert had tea with +Mr. Dalrymple that evening. He took it early since his illness; six +o'clock. Mary made the tea, and Robert waited on his father, who was +then in bed. When tea was cleared away, Mary went with it; Robert +remained. + +"This might have been an unlucky shot, Charley," Mr. Dalrymple +suddenly observed. + +"Oh, father! do not talk about it. I am so thankful!" + +"But I am going to talk about it. To tell you why it would have been +unlucky, had it turned out differently. This accident has made me +remember the uncertainty of life, if I never remembered it before. Put +the candles off the table; I don't like them right in my eyes; and +bring a chair here to the bedside. Get the lotion before you sit +down." + +Robert did what was required, and took his seat. + +"When I married, Robert, I was only the second brother, and no +settlement was made on your mother: I had nothing to settle. The post +I had in London in what you young people are now pleased to call the +red-tape office, brought me in six hundred a-year, and we married on +that, to rub on as we best could. And I dare say we should have rubbed +on very well," added Mr. Dalrymple, in a sort of parenthesis, "for our +desires were simple, and we were not likely to go beyond our income. +However, when you were about two years old, Moat Grange fell to me, +through the death of my elder brother." + +"What was the cause of his death?" interrupted Robert. "He must have +been a young man." + +"Eight-and-twenty only. It was young. I gave up my post in town, and +we came to Moat Grange----" + +"But what did Uncle Claude die of?" asked Robert again. "I don't +remember to have heard." + +"Never mind what. It was an unhappy death, and we have not cared to +speak of it. Moat Grange is worth about two thousand a-year: and we +have been doing wrong, in one respect, ever since we came to it, for +we have put nothing by." + +"Why should you have put by, father?" + +"There! That is an exemplification of your random way of speaking and +thinking. Moat Grange is entailed upon you, every shilling of it." + +"Well, it will be enough for me, with what I have," said Robert. + +"I hope it will. But it would have been anything but well had I died; +for in that case your mother and sisters would have been beggars." + +"Oh, father!" + +"Yes; all would have lapsed to you. Let me go on. Claude Dalrymple +left many debts behind him, some of them cruel ones--personal ones--we +will not enter into that. I--moved by a chivalrous feeling perhaps, +but which I and your mother have never repented of--took those +personal debts upon me, and paid them off by degrees." + +"I should have done the same," cried impulsive Robert. + +"And the estate had of course to be kept up, for I would not have had +it said that Moat Grange suffered by its change of owners, and your +mother thought with me; so that altogether we had a struggle for it, +and were positively less at our ease for ready-money here than we had +been in our little household in London. When the debts were cleared +off, and we had breathing time, I began to think of saving: but I am +sorry to say it was only thought of; not done. The cost of educating +you children increased as you grew older; Alice's illness came on and +was a great and continued expense; and, what with one thing and +another, we never did, or have, put by. Your expenses at college were +enormous." + +"Were they?" returned Robert, indifferently. + +"Were they!" echoed Mr. Dalrymple, almost in sharp tones. "Do you +forget that you also ran into debt there, like your uncle Claude?" + +"Not much, was it, sir?" cried Robert, deprecatingly, who remembered +very little about the matter, beyond the fact that the bills had gone +in to Moat Grange. + +"Pretty well," returned Mr. Dalrymple, with a cough. "The sum total +averaged between six and seven hundred a-year, for every year that you +were there." + +"Surely not!" uttered Robert, startled to contrition. + +"It seems to have made but little impression on you; you knew it at +the time. But I am not recalling this to cast reproach on you now, +Robert: I only wanted to explain how it is that we have been unable to +put by. Not a day after I am well, will I delay beginning it. We will +curtail our expenses, even in things hitherto considered necessary, no +matter what the neighbourhood may think; and I shall probably insure +my life. Your mother and I were talking of this all day yesterday." + +"I can do with less than I spend, father; I will make the half of it +do," said Robert, in one of his fits of impulse. + +"We shall see that," said Mr. Dalrymple, with another cough. "But you +do not know the trouble this has been to me since the accident, +Robert. I have lain here, and dwelt incessantly upon the helpless +condition of your mother and sisters--left helpless on your +hands--should I be called away." + +"My dear father, it need not trouble you. Do you suppose I should ever +wish to disturb my mother and sisters in the possession of their home? +What do you take me for?" + +"Ah, Robert, these generous resolves are easily made; but +circumstances more often than not mar them. You will be wanting a home +of your own--and a wife." + +Robert's face took a very conscious look. "Time enough for that, sir." + +"If you and Mary Lynn can both think so." + +"You--don't--object to her, do you, sir?" came the deprecating +question. + +"No, indeed I don't object to her: except on one score," replied Mr. +Dalrymple. "That she is too good for you." + +Robert laughed. "I told her that myself, and asked her to give me up. +It was the night of the accident, when I was so truly miserable." + +"Well, Robert, you could not have chosen a better girl than Mary Lynn. +She will have money----" + +"I'm sure I've not thought whether she will or not," interrupted +Robert, quite indignantly. + +"Of course not; I should be surprised if you had," said Mr. Dalrymple, +in the satirical tone his son disliked. "Commonplace ways and means, +pounds, shillings and pence, are beneath the exalted consideration of +young Mr. Dalrymple. I should not wonder but you would set up to live +upon air tomorrow, if you had nothing else to live upon." + +"Well, father, you know what I meant--that I am not mercenary." + +"I should be sorry if you were. But when we contemplate the prospect +of a separate household, it is sometimes necessary to consider how its +bread-and-cheese will be provided." + +"I have the two hundred a-year that my own property brings in--that +Aunt Coolly left me. There's that to begin with." + +"And I will allow you three or four hundred more; Mary will bring +something and be well-off later. Yes, Robert, I think you may set +up your tent, if you will. I like young men to marry young. I did +myself--at three-and-twenty: your present age. Your uncle Claude did +not, and ran into folly. And, Robert, I should advise you to begin and +read for the Bar. Better have a profession." + +"I did begin, you know, father." + +"And came down here when you were ill with that fever, and never went +up again. Moat Grange will be yours eventually----" + +"Not for these twenty years, I hope, father," impulsively interrupted +Robert. "You are spared to us, and I can never be sufficiently +thankful for it. Why, in twenty years you would not be an old man; not +seventy." + +"I am thankful, too, Robert; thankful that my life is not cut off in its +midst--as it might have been. The future of your mother and sisters +has been a thorn in my side since I was brought face to face with +death. In health we are apt to be fearfully careless." + +"Hear me, father," cried Robert, rising, and speaking with emotion. +"Had the worst happened, they should have been my first care; I +declare it to you. First and foremost, even before Mary Lynn." + +"My boy, I know your heart. Are you going down? That's right. I think +I have talked enough. Bring a light here first. My leg is very +uneasy." + +"Does it pain you?" inquired Robert, who had noticed that his father +was getting restless. "How tight the bandage is! The leg appears to be +swollen." + +"The effect of the bandage being tight," remarked Mr. Dalrymple. +"Loosen it, and put plenty of lotion on." + +"It feels very hot," were Robert's last words. + +The evening went on. Just before bed-time, the young people were all +sitting round the fire in the oak-parlour, Mrs. Dalrymple being with +her husband. So assured did they now feel of no ill results ensuing, +that they had grown to speak lightly of it. Not of the accident: none +would have been capable of that: but of the circumstances attending +it. Selina had just been recommending Robert never in future to touch +any weapon stronger than a popgun. + +"I don't mean to," said Robert. + +"What a long conference you had with papa tonight after Mary came +down," went on Selina. "What was it about, Robert? Were you getting a +lesson how to carry loaded guns?" + +"Not that," put in Oscar Dalrymple: "Robert has learnt that lesson by +heart. He was getting some hints how to manage Moat Grange." + +Robert looked up quickly, almost believing Oscar must have been behind +the chamber wall. + +"Your father has come so very near to losing it," added Oscar. "A +chance like that brings reflection with it." + +"Only to think of it!" breathed Alice--"that we have been so near +losing the Grange! If dear papa had died, it would have come to +Robert." + +"Ay, all Robert's; neither yours nor your mother's," mused Oscar. "I +dare say the thought has worried Mr. Dalrymple." + +"I know it has," said Robert, in his hasty way. "But there was no +occasion for it." + +"No, thank Heaven!" breathed Selina. + +"However things had turned out, my father might have been easy on that +score. And we were talking of you," added Robert, in a whisper to Mary +Lynn, while making believe to regard attentively the sofa cushion at +her ear. "And of setting up our tent, Mary; and of ways and means--and +I am to go on reading for the Bar. It all looks couleur-de-rose." + +"Robert," returned Alice, "should you have sent us adrift, had you +come into the old homestead?" + +"To be sure I should, in double-quick time," answered he, tilting +Alice's chair back to kiss her, and keeping it in that position. +"'Sharp the word and quick the action' it would have been with me +then. I should have paid a premium with you both, and shipped you off +by an emigrant ship to some old Turkish Sultan who buys wives, so that +you might never trouble me or the Grange again." + +"And mamma, Robert?" + +"Oh, mamma--I _might_ perhaps, have allowed her to stop here," +conceded Robert, with a mock serious face. "On condition that she +acted as my housekeeper." + +They all laughed; they were secure in the love of Robert. In the midst +of which, the young man felt some one touch his shoulder. It was Mrs. +Dalrymple. + +"Dearest mamma," said he, letting Alice and her chair go forward to +their natural position, and stepping backwards, laughing still. "Did +you hear what we were saying?" + +"Yes, Robert, I heard it," she sighed. "Have you a mind for a drive +tonight?" + +"A drive!" exclaimed Robert. "To find the emigrant ship?" + +"I have told James to get the gig ready. He can go, if you do not, but +I thought you might be the quicker driver. It is to bring Mr. Forth. +Some change for the worse has taken place in your father." + +All their mirth was forgotten instantly. They sat speechless. + +"He complained, just now, of the bandage being too tight, and said +Robert had pretended to loosen it, but must have only fancied that he +did so," continued Mrs. Dalrymple, speaking to them generally. "It is +much inflamed and swollen, and he cannot bear the pain. I fear," she +added, sitting down and bursting into tears, "that we have reckoned on +his recovery too soon--that it is far off yet." + +Robert flew on the wings of the wind, and soon brought back Mr. Forth. +Mrs. Dalrymple and Oscar went with the surgeon to the sick-chamber. +Uncovering the leg, he held the wax-light close to examine it. One +look, and he glanced up with a too-expressive face. + +Oscar, always observant, noticed it; no one else. Mrs. Dalrymple asked +the cause of the change, the sudden heat and pain. + +"It is a change--that--does--sometimes come on," drawled Mr. Forth; +who of course, as a medical man, would have protested against danger +had he known his patient was going to drop out of his hands the next +moment but one. + +"That redness about it," said Mr. Dalrymple, "that's new." + +"A touch of erysipelas," remarked the surgeon. + +His manner soothed them, and the vague feeling of alarm subsided. None +of them looked to the worst side--and a day or two passed on. Dr. +Tyler came again now as well as Mr. Forth. + +One morning when the doctors were driving out of the stable-yard--that +way was more convenient to the high-road than the front-entrance--they +met Mr. Cleveland. Mr. Forth pulled up, and the Rector leaned on the +gig while he talked to them, one hand on the wing, the other on the +dashboard. + +"How is he this morning?" + +"We were speaking of you, sir," replied Mr. Forth: "saying that you, +as Mr. Dalrymple's chief friend, would be the best to break the news +to the Grange. There is no hope." + +"No hope of his life?" + +"None. A day or two must terminate it." + +Mr. Cleveland was inexpressibly shocked. He could not at first speak. +"This is very sudden, gentlemen." + +"Not particularly so. At least, not to us. We have done all in our +power, but it has mastered us. Will you break it to him?" + +"Yes," he answered, quitting them. "It is a hard task; but some one +must do it." And he went straight to Mr. Dalrymple. + +In the evening, Robert, who had been away all day on some matter of +business, returned. As he went to his father's room to report what he +had done, his mother came out of it. She had her handkerchief to her +face: Robert supposed she was afraid of draughts. He approached the +bed. + +Mr. Dalrymple, looking flushed and restless, took Robert's hand and +held it in his. "Have they told you the news, my boy?" + +"No," answered Robert, never suspecting the true meaning of the words. +"Is there any?" + +Robert Dalrymple the elder gazed at him; a yearning gaze. And an +uneasy sensation stole over his son. + +"I am going to leave you, Robert." + +He understood, and sank down by the side of the bed. It was as if a +thunderbolt had struck him: and one that would leave its trace +throughout life. + +"Father! It cannot be!" + +"In a day or two, Robert. That is all of time they can promise me +now." + +He cried out with a low, wailing cry, and let his head drop on the +counterpane beside his father. + +"You must not take it too much to heart, my son. Remember: that is one +of my dying injunctions." + +"I wish I could die for you, father!" he passionately uttered. "I +shall never forgive myself." + +"I forgive you heartily and freely, Robert. My boy, see you not that +this must be God's good will? I could die in peace, but for the +thought of your mother and sisters. I can but leave them to you: will +you take care of and cherish them?" + +He lifted his head, speaking eagerly. "I will, I will. They shall be +my only care. Father, this shall ever be their home. I swear----" + +"Be silent, Robert!" interrupted Mr. Dalrymple, his voice raised in +emotion. "How dare you? _Never take a rash oath_." + +"I mean to fulfil it, father; just as though I had taken it. This +shall ever be my mother's home. But, oh, to lose you thus! My father, +say once more that you do forgive me. Oh, father, forgive and bless me +before you die!" + + +Death came, all too surely; and the neighbourhood, struck with +consternation, grieved sincerely for Mr. Dalrymple. + +"If Mr. Robert had but let me draw that charge from his gun, the +Squire would have been here now," bewailed Hardy, the gamekeeper. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. +AT CHENEVIX HOUSE. + + +It was a magnificent room, everything magnificent about it, as it was +fitting the library of Chenevix House should be: a fine mansion +overlooking Hyde Park. What good is there to be imagined--worldly +good--that fortune, so capricious in her favours, had not showered +down upon the owner of this house, the Earl of Acorn? None. With his +majority he had come into a princely income, for his father, the late +earl, died years before, and the estates had been well nursed. Better +had it been, though, for the young Earl of Acorn that he had been born +a younger son, or in an inferior rank of life. With that spur to +exertion, necessity, he would have pushed on and _exercised_ the +talents which had been liberally bestowed on him; but gliding as he +did into a fortune that seemed unlimited, he plunged into every +extravagant folly of the day, and did his best to dissipate it. He was +twenty-one then; he is walking about his library now--you may see him +if you choose to enter it--with some five-and-thirty good years added +to his life: pacing up and down in perplexity, and possessing scarcely +a shilling that he can call his own. His six-and-fifty years have +rendered his slender figure somewhat portly, and an expression of +annoyance is casting its shade on his clear brow and handsome +features; but no deeper lines of sorrow are marked there. Not upon +these careless natures does the hand of care leave its sign. + +But the earl is--to make the best of it--in a brown study, and he +scowls his eyebrows, and purses his lips, and motions with his hands +as he paces there, communing with himself. Not that he is so much +perplexed as to how he shall escape his already great embarrassments, +as he is to contriving the means to raise more money to rush into +greater. The gratification of the present moment--little else ever +troubled Lord Acorn. + +A noise of a cab in the street, as it whirls along, and pulls up +before the steps and stately pillars of Chenevix House; a knock and a +ring that send their echoes through the mansion; and the earl strides +forward and looks cautiously from the window, so as to catch a glimpse +of the horse and vehicle. It was only a glimpse, for the window was +high from the ground, its embrasures deep, and the cab close to the +pavement; and, for a moment, he could not decide whether it belonged +to friend or foe; but soon he drew away with an ugly word, crossed the +room to unlatch the door, and stood with his ear at the opening. What! +a peer condescend to play eavesdropper, in an attitude that befits a +meaner man? Yes: and a prince has done the same, when in bodily fear +of duns. + +A few minutes elapsed. The indistinct sound of contention approaches +his lordship's ear, in conjunction with a very uncomfortable stream of +wind, and then the house-door closes loudly, the cab whirls off again, +and the earl rings the library-bell. + +"Jenkins, who was it?" + +"That impudent Salmon again, my lord. I said you were out, and he +vowed you were in. I believe he would have pushed his way up here, but +John and the porter stood by, and I dare say he thought we three +should be a match for him." + +"Insolent!" muttered his lordship. "Has Mr. Grubb been here?" + +"No, my lord." + +"What can detain him?" spoke the earl to himself, irascibly. "I begged +him to come today. Mind you are in the hall yourself, Jenkins; you +know whom to admit and whom to deny." + +"All right, my lord." And the butler, who had lived with the earl many +years, and was a confidential servant devoted to his master's +interests, closed the library-door and descended. + +It was not until evening that Mr. Grubb came, and was shown into the +library. Do not be prejudiced against him on account of his name, +reader, but pay attention to him, for he is worthy of it, and plays a +prominent part in this little history. He is thirty years of age, a +tall, slender, noble-looking man, with intellect stamped on his ample +forehead, and good feeling pervading his countenance. It is a very +refined face, and its grey-blue eyes are simply beautiful. He is the +son of that city merchant, Christopher Grubb, who married Catherine +Grant. Christopher Grubb has been dead many years, and the son, +Francis Charles Christopher, is the head of the house now, and the +only one of the name living. + +His acquaintanceship with Lord Acorn had commenced in this way. When +that nobleman's only son, Viscount Denne, was at Christchurch, Francis +Grubb was also there; and they became as intimate as two +undergraduates of totally opposite pursuits and tastes can become. +Lord Denne was wild, careless, and extravagant; more of a spendthrift +(and that's saying a great deal) than his father had been before him. +He fell into debt and difficulty; and Mr. Grubb, with his ample means, +over and over again got him out of it. During their last term, when +young Denne was in a maze of perplexity, and more deeply indebted to +his friend than he cared to count, the accident occurred that deprived +him of life. A mad race with another Oxonian, each of them in his own +stylish curricle, the fashionable bachelor carriage of the day, +resulted in the overturning of both vehicles, and in the fatal injury +of Lord Denne. During the three days that he lingered Mr. Grubb never +left him. Lord Acorn was summoned from London, but Lady Acorn and her +daughters were abroad. The young man told his father how much money he +owed to Francis Grubb, begging that it might be repaid, and the earl +promised it should be. The death of this, his only son, was a terrible +blow to him: he would have been nine-and-twenty this year. + +For this happened some nine or ten years ago; and during all that time +Mr. Grubb had not been repaid. + +Repaid! The debt had been only added to. For the earl had borrowed +money on his own score, and increased it with a vengeance. He had +borrowed it on the strength of some property that he was expecting +yearly to fall to him through the death of an uncle: and Mr. Grubb, +strictly honourable himself, had trusted to the earl's promises. The +property, however, had at length fallen in; had fallen in a year ago; +and Mr. Grubb had not been repaid one shilling. While Lord Acorn was +yet still saying to him, I shall have the money tomorrow, or, I shall +have it the next day, Mr. Grubb had now found out that he had had it +months before, and had used it in repaying more pressing creditors. +Francis Grubb did not like it. + +"Ah, Grubb, how are you?" cried Lord Acorn, grasping his hand +cordially. "I thought you were never coming." + +"It is foreign post night; I could not get away earlier," was Mr. +Grubb's answer, his voice a singularly pleasant one. + +"Look here, Grubb: I am hard up, cleared down to the last gasp, and +money I must have," began his lordship, as he paced the carpet +restlessly. "I want you to advance me a little more." + +"Not another farthing," spoke Mr. Grubb, in decisive tones. "It has +just come to my knowledge, Lord Acorn, that you received the proceeds +of your uncle's property long ago--and that you have spent them." + +Remembering the deceit he had been practising, his lordship had the +grace to feel ashamed of himself. His brow flushed. + +"I could not help it, Grubb; I could not indeed. I did not like to +tell you, and I have had the deuce's own trouble to keep my head above +water." + +"I am very sorry; very," said the merchant. "Had you dealt fairly and +honourably with me, Lord Acorn, I would always have returned it in +kind; always. Had you said to me, I have that money at last, but I +cannot let you have it, for it must go elsewhere, I should never have +pressed you for it. I must press now." + +"Rubbish!" cried the earl, secure in the other's long-extended good +feeling. "You will do nothing of the kind, I know, Grubb. You have a +good hold yet on the Netherleigh estate. That must come to me." + +"Not so sure. Lord Acorn, I must have my money repaid to me." + +"Then you can't have it. And I want you to let me have two thousand +pounds more. As true as that we are living, Grubb, if I don't get that +in the course of a few hours, I shall be in Queer Street." + +"Lord Acorn, I will not do it; and I will do the other. You should +have dealt openly with me." + +"Did you ever get blood from a stone?" asked the earl: and the +careless apathy of his manner contrasted strongly with the earnestness +of Mr. Grubb's. "There's no chance of your getting the money back +until I am under here," stamping his foot on the ground, "and you know +it: unless the Netherleigh estate falls in. I speak freely to you, +Grubb, presuming on our long friendship. Come, don't turn crusty at +last. You don't want the money: you are rich as Croesus, and you must +wait. I wish my son had lived; we would have cut off the entail." + +"The debt must be liquidated," returned Mr. Grubb, after a pause of +regret, given to poor Lord Denne. And he spoke so coldly and +determinedly that Lord Acorn wheeled sharply round in his walk, and +looked at him. + +"I don't know how the dickens it will be done, then. I suppose _you_ +won't proceed to harsh measures, and bring a hornets' nest about my +head." + +They faced one another, and a silence ensued. For once in his careless +life, the good-looking face of Lord Acorn was troubled. + +"There is one way in which your lordship can repay the debt," resumed +Mr. Grubb. "And it will not cost you money." + +"Ah!" laughed the earl, "how's that? If you mean by post-obit bonds, +I'll sign a cart-load, if you like." + +Mr. Grubb approached the earl in a sort of nervous agitation. "Give +me your youngest daughter, Lord Acorn," he breathed. "Let me woo and +win her! I will take her in lieu of all." + +His lordship was considerably startled; the proud Chenevix blood rose, +and dyed his forehead crimson. He had not been listening particularly, +and he doubted whether he heard aright. In one respect he had not, for +he thought the words had been your _eldest_ daughter. Against Francis +Grubb personally, nothing could be said; but against his standing a +great deal. Many years had gone by since Catherine Grant lost caste by +marrying a "City man," but opinions had not changed, for it was yet +long antecedent to these tolerant days. Men in trade, no matter how +high the class of trade, were still kept at a distance by the upper +orders--not looked upon as being of the same race. + +Therefore the demand was as a blow to Lord Acorn; and he dared not +resent it as he would have liked to. _His_ daughter descend from her +own rank, and become one with this trader! Was the world coming to an +end? + +But as the two men stood gazing at one another, neither of them +speaking, the earl began to revolve in his mind the pros of the +matter, as well as the cons. Lady Grace was no longer young; she was +growing thin and rather cross, for she had been before the world ten +years, with no result. Would it be so bad a match for her? + +"I will settle an ample income upon her," spoke Mr. Grubb. "And your +unpaid bonds--there are many of them, my lord--I will return into your +hands: all of them. Thus your debt to me will be cancelled, and, so +far as I am concerned, you are a free man again." + +"I cannot be that. I am at my wits' end now for two thousand pounds." + +"You shall have that." + +"Egad, Grubb's a generous fellow!" cogitated the earl, "and it will be +a famous thing for Grace: if she can only think so. Have you ever +spoken to Grace of this," he asked, aloud. + +"To Lady Grace? No." + +"Do you think Grace likes you," continued Lord Acorn, remembering how +attractive a man the merchant was. "Do you think she will accept you?" + +"I am not speaking of Lady Grace." + +"No!" repeated the earl, opening his eyes wider than usual. "Which of +them is it, then?" + +"Lady Adela." + +If Lord Acorn had been startled when he thought the object of this +proposal was Grace, he was considerably more startled now. Adela! +young, beautiful, and haughty!--she would never have him. His first +impulse was indignantly to reject the proposition; his second thought +was, that he was trammelled and _dared_ not do so. + +"I cannot force Adela's inclinations," he said, after an awkward +pause. + +"Neither would I take a wife whose inclinations require to be forced," +returned Mr. Grubb. "Pray understand that." + +"My lord," cried a servant, entering the library, "her ladyship wishes +to know how much longer she is to wait dinner?" + +"Dinner!" exclaimed the earl. "By Jove! I did not know it was so late. +Grubb, will you join us sans cérémonie?" + +It was not the first time, by many, Mr. Grubb had dined there. He +followed the earl into the drawing-room. Lady Acorn was in it, a +little woman, all fire and impatience; especially just now, for if one +thing put her out more than another, it was that of being kept waiting +for her meals. The five daughters were there: they need not be +described. Grace, little and plain, but nevertheless with a nice face, +and eight-and-twenty, was the oldest; Adela, whom you have already +seen, twenty now, and a very flower of beauty, was the youngest. Four +daughters were between them. Sarah, next to Grace, and one year +younger, had married Major Hope, and was in India; Mary, Harriet, and +Frances; Adela coming last. Not a whit less beautiful was she than +when we saw her a year ago at Court Netherleigh. + +"Here's the grub again," whispered Harriet, for the girls were given +to be flippant amongst themselves. Not that they disliked Mr. Grubb +personally, or wished to cast derision on him, but they made a +standing joke of his name. He was in trade--and all such people they +had been taught to hold in contempt. The house, "Christopher Grubb and +Son," was situated somewhere in the City, they believed: it did +business with India, and the colonies, and ever so many more places; +though what the precise business was the young ladies did not pretend +to understand; but they did know that it was second to few houses in +wealth, and that their father was a considerable debtor to it. While +liking Mr. Grubb personally very well indeed, they yet held him to be +of a totally different order from themselves. + +"Dinner at once," cried the countess, impatiently, to the butler. "Of +course it's all cold," she sharply added, for the especial benefit of +her husband. + +Mr. Grubb went to the upper end of the room after greeting the +countess, and was speaking with the young ladies there; Lord Acorn +bent over the back of his wife's chair, and began to whisper to her. + +"Betsy, here's the strangest thing! Grubb wants to marry one of the +girls." + +"Absurd!" responded the wrathful little woman. + +"So it appears, at the first blush. But when we come to look at the +advantages--now do listen reasonably for a moment," he broke off, "you +are as much interested in this as I am. He will settle hundreds of +thousands upon her, and cancel all my debts to him besides." + +"Did he say so?" quickly cried the countess, putting off her anger to +a less interested moment. + +"He did," replied the earl, forgetting that he had improvised the +hundreds of thousands. "And in addition to putting me straight, he +will give me a handsome sum down. You shall have five hundred pounds +of it for your milliner, Madame Damereau, which will enable you all to +get a new rig-out," concluded the wily man, conscious that if his +self-willed better-half set her temper against the match, the +Archbishop of Canterbury himself could never tie it into one. + +"Which of them does he want?" inquired the countess, snappishly, +as if wishing to intimate that, though she might have to say Yes, it +should be done with an ill grace. "He's talking now with--which is +it?--Mary." + +"I thought it was Grace," began the earl, in a deprecatory tone; "I +took that for granted----" + +"Dinner, my lady," came the interruption, as the door was flung open: +and the earl started up, and said not another word. He thought it well +that his lady wife should digest the news so far, before proceeding +further with it. The countess on her part, understood that all was +told, and that the desired bride was Grace. + +Mr. Grubb gave his arm to Lady Acorn, and sat down at her right hand. +Lady Grace was next him on the other side. He was an agreeable man, of +easy manners. Could they ignore the City house, and had he boasted of +ancestry and a high-sounding name, they could not have wished for a +companion who was more thoroughly the gentleman. Unusually agreeable +he was this evening, for he now believed that no bar would be thrown +in the way of his winning the Lady Adela. He had long admired her +above all women; he had long loved her, and he saw no reason why any +bar should be thrown: what incompatibility ought to exist between the +portionless daughter of a ruined peer and a British merchant of high +character and standing and next to unlimited wealth? The ruined peer, +however, had he heard this argument, might have said the merchant +reasoned only in accordance with his merchant-origin; that he could +not be expected to understand distinctions which were above him. + +Lady Acorn rose from table early. She had been making up her mind to +the match, during dinner: like her husband, she discovered, on +reflection, its numerous advantages, and she was impatient to disclose +the matter to Grace. Mr. Grubb held the door open as they filed out, +for which the countess thanked him by a bow more cordial than she had +ever bestowed on him in her life. Whether it had ever occurred to Lady +Acorn that this City man was probably the son of Catherine Grant, +cannot be told. She had never alluded to it. Catherine had offended +them all too greatly to be recalled even by name: and, so far as Lord +Acorn went, he did not know such a person as Catherine had ever +existed. + +The girls gathered their chairs round the fire in the autumn evening, +and began grumbling. "Engagements"--he did not say of what nature--had +been Lord Acorn's plea for remaining in town when every one else had +left it. Adela was especially bitter. + +"Papa never does things like other people. When we ought to be away, +we are boxed up in town; and when every one else is in town, we are +kept in the country. I'm sick of it." + +"It's a pity, girls, you haven't husbands to cater for you, as you are +sick of your father's rule," tartly spoke their mother. "You don't go +off; any of you." + +"It is Grace's turn to go first," cried Lady Harriet. + +"Yes, it is--and one wedding in a family often leads to another," +observed the wily countess. "I should like to see Grace well settled. +With a fine place of her own, where we could go and visit her, and a +nice town mansion; and a splendid income to support it all." + +"And a box at the opera," suggested Frances. + +"And a herd of deer, and a pack of hounds, and the crown diamonds," +interrupted Adela, with irony in her tone, and a spice of scorn in her +eye, as she glanced up from her book. "Don't you wish we had Aladdin's +lamp? It might come to pass then." + +"But if I tell you that it will come to pass without it," said Lady +Acorn, "that it _has_ come to pass, what should you say? Look up, +Grace, my dear; there's luck in store for you yet." + +Their mother's manner was so pointedly significant, that all were +silent from amazement. The colour mounted to the cheeks of Grace, and +her lips parted: could it be that she was no longer to remain Lady +Grace _Chenevix?_ + +"Grace, child," continued the countess, "the time has gone by for you +to pick and choose. You are now getting on for thirty, and have never +had the ghost of a chance----" + +"That is more than you ought to say, mamma," interrupted Grace, her +face flushing, perhaps at her mother's assertion telling home. "I may +have had--I _did_ have a chance, as you call it, but----" + +"Well, not that we ever knew of; let us amend the sentence in +that way. What I was going to observe is, that you must not be +over-particular now." + +"_Has_ Grace got an offer?" inquired Harriet, breathlessly. + +"Yes, she has, and you need not all look so incredulous. It is a good +offer too, plenty of substance about it. She will abound in such +wealth that she'll be the envy of all the girls in London, and of you +four in particular. She will have her town and country mansions, +crowds of servants, dresses at will--everything, in short, that money +can purchase." For, in her maternal anxiety for the acceptance of the +offer, her ladyship thought she could not make too much of its +advantages. + +"Why, for all that, Grace would marry a chimney-sweep," laughed the +plain-speaking Lady Frances. + +"Grace has had it in her head to turn serious," added Harriet; "she +may put that off now. I think Aladdin's lamp has been at work." + +"Of course there are some disadvantages attending the proposed match," +said Lady Acorn, with deprecation; "no marriage is without them, I can +tell you that. Grace will have every real and substantial good; but +the gentleman, in birth and position, is--rather obscure. But he is +not a chimney-sweep: it's not so bad as that." + +"Good Heavens, mamma!" interrupted Lady Grace. "'So bad as that'?" + +"Pray do not make any further mystery, mamma," said Mary. "Who is it +that has fallen in love with Grace?" + +"Mr. Grubb." + +"Mr.----Grubb!" was echoed by the young ladies in every variety of +astonishment, and Grace thought that of all the men in the world she +should have guessed him last; but she did not say so. She was of a +cautious nature, and rarely spoke on impulse. + +The silence of surprise was broken by a ringing laugh from Adela, one +laugh following upon another. It seemed as though she could not cease. +When had they seen Adela so merry? + +"I cannot help it," she said apologetically, "but it did strike me as +sounding so absurd. 'Lady Grace Grubb!' Forgive me, Gracie." + +"It will not bear so aristocratic a sound as Lady Grace Chenevix," +retorted the mother, tartly, "but remember the old saying, 'What's in +a name?' It is you who are absurd, Adela." + + + + +CHAPTER V. +LADY ADELA. + + +"I have opened the matter to Grace, and there'll be no trouble with +her," began Lady Acorn to her husband the next morning, halting to say +it as she was going into her dressing-room. "No girl knows better than +she on which side her bread is buttered!" + +"To Grace!" cried the earl, who was only half awake, and spoke from +the bedclothes. "Do you mean about Grubb?" + +"Now what else should I mean?" + +"But it is not Grace he wants. It's Adela." + +"Adela!" echoed Lady Acorn, aghast. + +"I don't think he'd have Grace at a gift--or any of them but Adela. +And so you told _her_, making her dream of wedding-rings and +orange-blossoms! Poor Gracie, what a sell!" + +"Adela will never have him," broke forth the countess, in high +vexation, at herself, her husband, Mr. Grubb, and the world in +general. "Never!" + +"Oh, nonsense, she must be talked into it. With five girls, it's +something to get off one of them." + +"Adela is not a girl to be 'talked into' anything. She would like a +duke. She is the vainest of them all." + +"Look at the amount of devilry this will patch up," urged the earl, +impressively, as he lifted his head from the pillow. "If he does not +get Adela, he is going to sue for his overdue bonds." + +"You have no business with bonds, overdue or under-due," snapped his +wife. "I declare I have nothing but worry in this life." + +"I shall get the two thousand pounds from him, if this comes off; you +shall have five hundred of it, as I told you; and my debt to him he +will cancel. The man's mad after Adela." + +"But she's not mad after him," retorted Lady Acorn. + +"Make her so," advised the earl. And her ladyship went forth to her +dressing-room, and allowed some of her superfluous temper to explode +on her unoffending maid, who stood there waiting for her. + +"There, that will do," she impatiently said, when only half dressed, +"I'll finish for myself. Go and send Lady Grace to me." And the maid +went, gladly enough. + +"Gracie, my dear," she began, when her daughter entered, "I am so +sorry; so vexed; but it was your papa's fault. He should have been +more explicit." + +"Vexed at what?" asked Grace. + +"That which I told you last night--I am so grieved, poor child! It +turns out to have been some horrible mistake." + +Grace compressed her lips. "Yes, mamma?" + +"A mistake in the name. It is Adela Mr. Grubb proposed for--not you. I +am deeply grieved, Grace." + +Lady Grace laid one hand across her chest: it may be that her heart +was beating unpleasantly with the disappointment. Better, certainly, +that her hopes had never been raised, than that they should be dashed +thus unceremoniously down again. She had learnt to appreciate Mr. +Grubb as he deserved; she liked and esteemed him, and would gladly +have married him. + +"Will Adela accept him?" were the first words she said. For she did +not forget that Adela, by way of amusing herself, had not been sparing +of her ridicule, the previous night, of Mr. Grubb and his pretensions. + +"I don't know," growled Lady Acorn. "Adela, when she chooses, can be +the very essence of obstinacy. I have said nothing to her. It is only +now that I found out there was a misapprehension." + +"Mother!" suddenly exclaimed Grace, "it has placed me in a painfully +ridiculous position, there's no denying that: we have been talking of +it among ourselves. If you will help me, it may be made less so." + +"How?" + +"Say that I was in your confidence; that we both know it was Adela; +and that what was said about me was arranged between us to break the +matter to her, and get her reconciled to the idea of him. And let it +be myself, not you, to explain now to Adela." + +"Yes, yes; do as you will," eagerly assented the mother: for she did +feel sorry for Grace. + +Grace went to Adela's room, and found her there, with Harriet. She had +been recalling the past: and she saw now how attentive Francis Grubb +had been to Adela; how fond of talking with her. "Had our eyes been +open, we might have seen it all!" sighed Grace. + +"How nicely you were all taken in last night!" she said, assuming a +light playfulness, as she sat down at the open window. "Don't you +think mamma and I got up that fable well about Mr. Grubb?" + +"Got it up!" cried Harriet. "You hypocritical sinners! Did he not make +the offer?" + +"Ay; but not to me. It was better to put it so, don't you see, by way +of breaking it to you." + +"Then you are not going to be Lady Grace Grubb, after all!" said +Adela. "Well, it would have been an incongruous assimilation of +names." + +"I am not. Guess who it is he wants, Adela?" + +"Frances?" cried Harriet. + +"No, but you are very near--you burn, as we children used to say at +our play." + +"Not Adela!" + +"It is," answered Grace. "And I congratulate her heartily. Lady Adela +Grubb will sound better than Lady Grace would." + +"Thank you," satirically answered Adela; "you may retain the name +yourself, Grace. None of your Grubbs for me." + +"Ah, don't be silly, child. A grub, indeed! He is one of the best and +most admirable of men; a true nobleman." + +The words were interrupted by a laugh from Harriet; a ringing laugh. +"Oh, Gracie, how unfortunate! What shall we do! Frances wrote last +night to tell Miss Upton of your engagement, and the letter's posted." + +Grace Chenevix suppressed her mortification, and quitted her sisters +with a smiling face. But when she was safe in her own room, she burst +into a flood of distressing tears. + +Lord and Lady Acorn chose to breakfast that morning alone in the +library. Afterwards Adela was sent for. Straightening down the slim +waist of her pretty morning dress with an action that spoke of +conscious vanity, she obeyed the summons. Lord Acorn threw aside the +morning paper when she entered. + +"Adela, sit down," he said, pushing the chair at his elbow slightly +forward. "We have received an offer of marriage for you; and though it +is not in every respect all that we could wish----" + +"From the grub," interrupted Adela, merging ceremony in indignation, +as she stood confronting both her parents, regardless of the seat +proffered. "Grace has been telling me." + +"Hush, Adela! don't give way to flippant folly," interposed her +mother. "Have you considered the advantages of such an alliance as +this?" + +"Advantages, mamma! I don't understand. Have you"--turning to her +father--"considered the disadvantages, sir?" + +"There is only one disadvantage connected with it, Adela--that he is +not of noble birth." + +"But that is insuperable, papa!" + +"Indeed, no," said Lord Acorn. "You will possess every good that +wealth can command; all things that can conduce to happiness. Your +position will be an enviable one. How many of the daughters of our +order--in more favourable circumstances than yours--have married these +merchant-princes!" + +Adela pouted. "That is no reason why I should do so, papa. I don't +want to marry." + +"You might all remain unmarried for ever, and make five old maids of +yourselves, and buy cats and monkeys to pet, if it were not for the +horrible dilemma we are in," screamed the countess, in her well-known +fiery tones, and with a wrathful glance at the earl; for her tones +always were fiery and her glances wrathful when his unpardonable +recklessness was recalled to her mind. "Mr. Grubb has been, so to say, +the salvation of us for years--for years, Adela,--every year has +brought its embarrassments, and he has helped us out of them. As well +tell her the truth at once, Lord Acorn," she concluded sharply. + +"Ugh!" grunted he, in what might be taken for a note of unwilling +assent. + +"And if we put this affront upon him--refuse him your hand, which he +solicits with so much honour and liberality--it will be all over with +us. We can't live any longer in England, for there's nothing left to +live upon; we must go abroad to some wretched hole of a continental +place, and lodge on one dirty floor of six rooms, and live as common +people. What chance would there be of your picking up even a merchant +then?" + +Adela rose, smiling incredulously. "Things cannot be as bad as that, +mamma." + +"Sit down, Adela," cried her father, peremptorily, raising his hand to +check the flow of eloquence his wife was again about to enter upon. +"It _is_ as bad. Grubb has behaved like a prince to me, and nothing +less. And, if he should recall the money he has lent, I know not, in +truth, where any of us would be. _I_ should have to run; and be posted +up as a defaulter, into the bargain, all over the kingdom." And, in a +few brief words, he explained facts to her; making, of course, the +worst of them. The obstinacy on Adela's countenance faded away as she +listened: she was deeply attached to her father. + +"You will be a very princess, if you take him, Adela," said Lady +Acorn. "Ah! I can tell you, child, before you have come to my age you +will have found out that there's little worth living for but wealth, +which brings ease and comfort. I ought to know; for our want of it, +through one absurd extravagance or another"--with a dreadful glance at +her lord--"has been the worry and bane of my married life." + +"You have been extravagant on your own score," growled he. + +"But, papa, I don't care for Mr. Grubb. Apart from the disreputable +fact that he is a tradesman----" + +"Those merchant-princes cannot be called tradesmen, Adela," quickly +interposed Lord Acorn, who could put the case strongly, in spite of +his prejudices, when it suited his interest to do so. + +"Well, apart from that, I say I do not like him." + +"You cannot _dis_like him. No one can dislike Francis Grubb." + +"I shall if I am made to marry him." + +Her obstinate mood was returning; they saw that, and they let her +escape for a time. Adela, the youngest and most beautiful of all their +children, had been reprehensibly indulged: allowed to grow up in the +belief that the world was made for her. + +"Well, Adela, and how have you sped?" asked Grace. + +"Oh, I don't know," was Adela's answer, as she flung herself into a +low chair by her dressing-table. "Mamma is so fond of telling us that +the world's full of trouble; and I think it is." + +"Have you consented?" + +"No. And I don't intend to consent." + +"But why not? He is very nice; very; and the advantages are very +great. Tell me why you will not, Adela--_dear_ Adela?" + +Adela turned her head away. "I do not care to marry yet; him, or any +other man." + +A light--or rather a doubt--seemed to break upon Lady Grace. "Adela," +she whispered, "it is not possible you are still thinking of Captain +Stanley?" + +"Where would be the use of that?" was the answer. "He is fighting in +India, and I am here: little chance of our paths in life ever again +crossing each other." + +"If I really thought your head was still running upon Stanley, I would +tell you----" + +"What?" for Grace had stopped. + +"The truth," was the reply, in a low voice. "News of him reached +England by the last mail." + +"What news?" + +"Well, I--I hardly know whether you will care much to hear it." + +"Probably not. I should like to, for all that." + +"He is married." + +Adela looked up with a start, and her colour faded. "Married?" + +"He is. He has married his cousin, a Miss Stanley, and it is said they +have long been attached to each other. He was a frightful flirt, but +he had no heart; I always said it; and I think he was not a good man +in other respects." + +The news brought a pang of mortification to Adela; perhaps a deeper +pang than that. Some eighteen months back, she saw a good deal of this +Captain Stanley; it was thought by shrewd observers that she had lost +her heart to him. If so, it was now thrown back upon her. + +And, whether it might have been this, or whether it was the persistent +persuasion of her father and mother, ay, and of her sisters, Adela +Chenevix consented to accept Mr. Grubb. But she bitterly resented the +necessity, and from that hour she deliberately steeled her heart +against him. + +Daintily she swept into the room for her first interview with him. +He stood in agitation at its upper end--a fine, intellectual man; +one, young though he was, to be venerated and loved. She wore a +pink-and-white silk dress, and her hair had pink and white roses in +it; for Mr. Grubb had come to dinner, and she was already dressed for +it. A rich colour shone in her cheeks, her beautiful eyes and features +were lighted up with it, and her delicate figure was thrown back--in +disdain. Oh, that he could have read it then! + +He never afterwards quite remembered what he said when he approached +her. He knew he took her hand. And he believed he whispered words of +thanks. + +"They are not due to me," was her answer, delivered with cold +equanimity. "My father tells me I must marry you, and I accede to it." + +"May God enable me to reward you for the confidence you repose in me!" +he whispered. "If it be given to man to love a wife as one never yet +was loved, may it be given to me!" + +She twisted her hand from him with an ungracious movement, for he +would have retained it, and walked deliberately across the room, +leaving him where he stood, and rang the bell. + +"Tell mamma Mr. Grubb is here," she said to the servant. + +He felt pained: he understood this had been an accorded interview. +Like all other lovers, he began to speak of the future--of his hope +that she would learn to love him. + +"There should be no misunderstanding between us on this point," she +hastily answered; and could it be that there was _contempt_ in her +tone? "I have agreed to be your wife; but, until a day or two ago, the +possibility of my becoming so had never been suggested to me. +Therefore, the love that I suppose ought to accompany this sort of +contract is not mine to offer." + +How wondrously calm she spoke--in so matter-of-fact, business-like a +way! It struck even him, infatuated though he was. + +"It may come in time," he whispered. "My love shall call forth yours; +my----" + +"I hear mamma," interrupted Adela, drawing away from him like a second +cruel Barbara Allen. + +"Adela, where's your town house to be?" began one of the girls to her +when they got into the drawing-room after dinner, the earl and Mr. +Grubb being still at table. "Not in the smoky City, surely!" + +"His house is not in the City; it's in Russell Square," corrected +another. "Of course he won't take her _there!_" + +"Ada, mind which opera-box you secure. Let it hold us all." + +"Of course you'll be smothered in diamonds," suggested Lady Mary. + +"One good thing will come of this wedding, if nothing else does: mamma +must get us new things, and plenty of them." + +"I wonder whether he will give us any ornaments? He is generous to a +fault. Is he not, Adela?" + +"How you tease!" was Adela's languid rejoinder. "Go and ask him." + +"I protest, Adela, if you show yourself so supremely indifferent he +will declare off before the wedding-day." + +"And take one of you instead. I wish he would." + +"No fear. Ada's chains are bound fast about him. One may see how he +loves her." + +"Love!" cried Adela. "It is perfectly absurd--from him to me. But it +is the way with those plebeians." + +The preparations for the wedding were begun. On so magnificent a scale +that the fashionable world of London was ringing with them. The +bridegroom's liberality, in all that concerned his future wife, could +not be surpassed. Settlements, houses, carriages, horses, furniture, +ornaments, jewellery, all were perfect of their kind, leaving nothing +to be wished for. The Lady Adela had once spoken of Aladdin's lamp, in +reference to her sister Grace's ideal union; looking on these real +preparations, one might imagine that some magic, equally powerful, was +at work now. + +Lord Acorn had a place in Oxfordshire, and the family went to it in +October. Mr. Grubb paid it one or two short visits, and went down for +Christmas, staying there ten days. They were all cordial with him, +except Adela; she continued to be supremely indifferent. He won upon +their regard strangely; the girls could do nothing but sing his +praises. Poor unselfish Grace once caught herself wishing that that +early misapprehension had not been one, and then took herself to task +severely. She loved Adela, and was glad for her sake. + +But Adela was not quite always cold and haughty. As if to show her +affianced husband that such was not her true nature, she would now and +again be sweetly winning and gentle. On one of these occasions he +caught her hand. They were alone, sitting on a sofa; Frances had run +into the next room for a book they were discussing. + +"Adela," he whispered passionately, taking both her hands in his, "but +for these rare moments, I should be in despair." + +She did not, for a wonder, resent the words. She glanced up at him, a +shy look in her sweet brown eyes, a smile on her parted lips, a deeper +rose-blush on her delicate face. He stooped and kissed her; kissed her +fervently. + +She resented that. For when Frances, coming back on the instant, +entered, she met Adela sweeping from the room in a storm of anger. + +Not to let him kiss her! And in six weeks' time she was to be his +wife! + +Mr. Grubb had an adventure on the journey home. They had passed +Reading some minutes, when the train was stopped. A down-train had +come to grief through the breaking of an axle, throwing a carriage, +fortunately empty, right across the line; which in consequence was +temporarily blocked up. The passengers of the down-train, very few of +them, were standing about; the passengers of the up-train got out +also. + +"Can I be of any use?--can I do anything for you?" asked Mr. Grubb, +addressing a little lady in a black-silk cloak and close bonnet, who +was sitting on a box and looking rather helpless. And, though he had +heard of Miss Margery Upton, he was not aware that it was she to whom +he was speaking. + +"It is good of you to inquire, sir; you are the first who has done +it," she answered; "but I don't see that there's anything to be done. +We might all have been killed. They should keep their material in +safer order." + +She looked up as she spoke. Some drops of rain were beginning to fall. +Mr. Grubb put up his umbrella, and held it over her. To do this, he +laid down a small hand-bag of Russian leather, on the silver clasp of +which was engraved "C. Grubb." Miss Upton read the name, rose from her +box, and looked him steadily in the face. "It is a good face and a +handsome one," she thought to herself. + +"Sir, is your name Grubb?" she asked. + +"Yes, madam, it is." + +"I read it here," she explained, pointing to the old-fashioned +article. + +"Ah, yes," he smiled. "It was my late father's bag, and that was his +name." + +"Was he Christopher Grubb? + +"He was." + +She put her hand on his coat-sleeve, apparently for the purpose of +steadying herself while regarding his face more attentively. + +"You have your mother's eyes," she said; "I should know them anywhere. +Beautiful eyes they were. And so are yours." + +"And may I inquire who it is that is doing honour to my vanity in +saying this?" he rejoined, in the winning voice and manner +characteristic of him. + +"Ay, if you like. I dare say you have heard of me. I am Margery +Upton." + +"Indeed I have; and I have wondered sometimes whether I should ever +see you. Then--did you know my mother, Miss Upton?" + +"I did; in the old days when we were girls together. Has she never +told you so?" + +"Not to my recollection." + +"I see. Resented our resentment, and dropped us out of her life as we +dropped her," commented Miss Upton partly to herself, as she sat down +again. "What a tinkering they keep up there! Is your mother living?" + +"Yes; but she is an invalid." + +"Is it you who are about to marry Lord Acorn's daughter?" continued +Miss Upton. + +"Yes. I have just come from them." + +"I knew the name was Grubb, and that he was a City man and wealthy," +she candidly continued; "and the thought occurred to me that it might +possibly be the son of the Christopher Grubb I heard something of in +early life. I did not put the question to the Acorns." + +"It is by them I have heard you spoken of," he remarked. "Also by my +sister." + +"By your sister!" exclaimed Miss Upton, in surprise. "What sister? +What does she know of me?" + +"She was staying some fourteen or fifteen months ago with the +Dalrymples of Moat Grange--it was at the time of Mr. Dalrymple's sad +death--and she made your acquaintance there. She is Mary Lynn, my +half-sister. My father died when I was a little lad, and my mother +made a second marriage." + +Miss Upton was silent, apparently revolving matters in her mind. "Did +your sister know that I was her mother's early friend?" she asked. + +"Oh no; I think not. She only spoke of you as a stranger--or, rather, +as a friend of the Dalrymples. I never heard my mother speak of you at +all--I do not suppose Mary has." + +"That young girl had her mother's eyes," suddenly cried Miss Upton, +"just as you have. They seemed familiar to me; I remember that; but I +wanted the clue, which this name"--bending to look at the bag--"has +supplied. C. Grubb--Christopher was your father's name." + +"It is mine also." + +"And Francis too!" she quickly cried. + +"And Francis too--Francis Charles Christopher." It crossed his mind to +wonder how she knew it was Francis, then remembered it must have been +from the Acorns. Miss Upton had lifted her face, and was looking at +him. + +"Why did your mother name you Francis?" she asked, rather sharply. + +"I was named Francis after my father's only brother. He was my +godfather, and gave me his name--Francis Charles." And left me his +money also, Mr. Grubb might have added, but did not. + +"I see," nodded Miss Upton, apparently satisfied. "You have been +letting Lord Acorn borrow no end of money of you on the strength of +his coming into the Netherleigh estate," she resumed, in her open, +matter-of-fact way, that spoke so much of candour. + +Mr. Grubb hesitated, and his face slightly flushed. It did not seem +right to enter upon Lord Acorn's affairs with a stranger. But she +seemed to know all about it, and was waiting for his answer. + +"Not on the Netherleigh estate," he answered. "I have always told Lord +Acorn that he ought not to make sure of that." + +"You would be quite safe in lending it," she nodded, a peculiar look +of acuteness, which Mr. Grubb did not altogether fathom, on her face. +"Quite." + +Some stir interrupted further conversation. The tinkering, as Miss +Upton called it, had ceased, and the down-line was at length ready for +traffic. "Where are my people, I wonder?" cried Miss Upton, rising and +looking around. + +They came forward almost as she spoke--a man and a maid servant. The +former took up the box she had been sitting on, and Mr. Grubb gave her +his arm to the train, and put her into the carriage. + +"This is the first time I have seen you, but I hope it will not be the +last," she said, retaining his hand, in hers when he had shaken it. "I +am now on my way to Cheltenham, to spend a month, perhaps two months. +I like the place, and go to it nearly every year. When I return, you +must come to Court Netherleigh." + +"I shall be very much pleased to do so." + +Mr. Grubb had left her, and was waiting to see the train go on, when +she made a hasty movement to him with her hand. + +"Perhaps I was incautious in saying that you were safe in lending +money on the Netherleigh property," she whispered in his ear. "Take +care you don't breathe a word of that admission to Acorn. He would +want to borrow you out of house and home." + +Mr. Grubb smiled. "I will take care; you may rely on me, Miss Upton." +And he stood back and lifted his hat as the delayed train puffed on. + +And it may be well to give a word of explanation whilst Mr. Grubb is +waiting for _his_ delayed train, which is not ready to puff on yet. + +The house, "Christopher Grubb and Son," situated in Leadenhall Street, +was second in importance to few in the City; I had almost said second +to none. It had been founded by the old man, Christopher Grubb, father +of the Christopher who had married Catherine Grant, and grandfather of +the Francis who is waiting for his train. The two Christophers, father +and son, died about the same time, and the business was carried on by +old Christopher's other son, Francis. Catherine Grubb, née Grant, was +left largely endowed, provided she did not marry again. If she did, a +comparatively small portion only would remain hers, and at her +disposal--about a thousand a-year; the rest would go at once to her +little son, of whom she would also forfeit the personal guardianship. +Mrs. Grubb did marry again; and the little lad, aged eight, was +transferred to the care of his uncle Francis, in accordance with the +terms of the will, and to his uncle's house in Russell Square. But Mr. +Francis Grubb was no churlish guardian, and the child was allowed to +be very often at Blackheath with his mother. Mrs. Grubb's second +husband, Richard Lynn, who was a barrister, not often troubled with +briefs, did not live long; and she was again left a widow, with her +little girl, Mary Isabel. She continued in the house at Blackheath, +which was her own, and she was in it still. + +Upon quitting Oxford, where he took a degree, Francis entered the +house in Leadenhall Street, becoming at once its head and chief. He +showed good aptitude for business, was attentive, steady, punctual; +above all, he did not despise it. When he had been in it three or +four years, his uncle--with whom he continued to reside in Russell +Square--found his health failing. Seeing what must shortly occur, he +recommended his nephew to take a partner--one James Howard, a +methodical, middle-aged, honourable man, who had been in the house +since old Christopher's time. This was carried out; and the firm +became Grubb and Howard. The next event was the death of the uncle, +Francis Grubb. He bequeathed five thousand pounds to Mary Lynn, and +the whole of his large accumulated fortune, that excepted, to his +nephew, Francis the younger, including the house in Russell Square. +Francis had continued to reside in the house since then, until the +present time. + +He was quitting it now--transferring it to Mr. Howard; who had taken a +fancy to leave his place at Richmond and live in London. Of course, a +house in Russell Square would not suit the aspiring tastes of Lady +Adela Chenevix, and Francis Grubb had been fortunate enough to secure +and purchase the lease of one within the aristocratic regions of +Grosvenor Square. + +The wedding took place in February. Miss Upton did not attend it, +though pressed very much by the Acorn family to do so. She was +still at Cheltenham, not feeling very well, she told them, not +sufficiently so to come up; but she sent Adela a cheque for two +hundred pounds--which no doubt atoned for her absence. + +The bride and bridegroom took their departure for Dover en route for +Rome: Lady Adela having condescended to express a wish to visit the +Eternal City. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. +ALL DOWN-HILL. + + +The hot rays of the June sun lay on the west-end streets one Thursday +at midday, and on three men of fashion who were strolling through +them arm-in-arm. He who walked in the middle was a young man turned +six-and-twenty, but not looking it; a good-natured, easy-going, +attractive young fellow, who won his way with every one. It was Robert +Dalrymple. From two to three years had elapsed since his father's +death; and, alas, they had not been made years of wisdom to him. +Impulsive, generous, hasty, improvident, and very fond of London life, +Robert Dalrymple had been an easy prey to Satan's myrmidons in the +shape of designing men. + +These two gentlemen, with him today, were not precisely genii of +good. One of them, Colonel Haughton, was a stout, elderly man, with a +burly manner, and a mass of iron-grey hair adorning his large head; +his black eyes stood out, bold and hard, through his gold-rimmed +glasses. Mr. Piggott, much younger, was little and thin, with a stoop +in the shoulders, and one of the craftiest countenances ever seen, to +those who could read it. Suddenly Robert stood still, withdrew his arm +from Mr. Piggott's, and gazed across the street. + +"What now, Dalrymple?" + +"There's my cousin Oscar! If ever I saw him in my life, that is he. +What brings him to town? I will wish you good-day and be after him." + +"To meet tonight," quickly cried Colonel Haughton. + +"To meet tonight, of course. No fear of my not coming for my revenge. +Adieu to both of you until then." + +It is a sad story that you have to hear of Robert Dalrymple. How shall +I tell it? And yet, while running into this pitfall, and tumbling into +that, the young man's intentions were so good and himself so sanguine +that one's heart ached for him. + +In his chivalrous care for his mother, the first thing Robert did, on +coming home from his father's funeral, was to break off the engagement +with Mary Lynn. Or, rather, to postpone it--if you can understand such +a thing. "We shall not be able to marry for many a year, Mary," he +said, the tears that had fallen during the burial-service still +glistening in his eyes, "and so you had better take back your troth. +Moat Grange is no longer mine, for I cannot and will not turn my +mother and sisters out of it; I promised _him_ I would not: and +so--and so--there's nothing to be done but part." + +In the grey gloaming that same evening they went out under the canopy +of heaven and talked the matter over calmly. Neither of them wanted +to part with the other: but they saw no way at present of escaping +from it. Robert had property of his own that brought him two hundred +a-year; Mary had the five thousand pounds left her by Mr. Francis +Grubb. Mary would have risked marrying, though she did not say so; +Robert never glanced at the possibility. Super-exalted ideas blind us +to the ordinary view of everyday life, and Robert could only look at +housekeeping in the style of that at Moat Grange. It occurred to Mary +that perhaps his mother and her mother might spare them something +yearly, but again she did not like it to be herself to suggest it. So +the open agreement come to between them was, to cancel the engagement; +the tacit one was to _wait_--and that they were just as much plighted +to each other as ever. + +But the reader must fully understand Robert Dalrymple's position. He +had come into Moat Grange as surely and practically as though he had +had no mother in existence. Its revenues were his; his to do what he +pleased with. It is true that the keeping up of Moat Grange, as his +father had kept it up, would take nearly all those revenues: and +Robert had to learn that yet, in something beyond theory. Mrs. +Dalrymple instituted various curtailments, but her son in his +generosity thought they were unnecessary. + +Close upon his father's death, Robert came to London, attended by +Reuben, and entered upon some rather luxurious chambers in South +Audley Street. The rooms and the expenses of fashionable living made +havoc of his purse, and speedily plunged him into embarrassment. It +might not have been serious embarrassment, this alone, for he of +course took to himself a certain portion of his rents; but +unfortunately some of the acquaintances he made introduced him to that +most dangerous vice, gambling; and they did not rest until they had +imbued him with a love of it. It is of no use to pursue the course of +his downfall. He had been gradually getting lower and lower since then +in regard to finances, and deeper into embarrassments: and in this, +the third season, Robert Dalrymple had hardly a guinea he could call +his own; and Moat Grange was mortgaged. He was open-hearted, generous +as of old. Ah, if he could only have been as free from care! + +Dodging in and out among the vehicles that crowded Regent Street, +Robert got over at last, and tore after his cousin. "Oscar, Oscar! is +it you?" he called out. "When did you get here?" + +"Ah, Robert, how are you? I was on my way to South Audley Street to +find you." + +"Come for a long stay?" demanded Robert, as he linked his arm within +Oscar's. + +"I came today and I return tomorrow," replied Oscar. + +"You don't mean that, man. Visit London in the height of the season, +and stay only a day! Such a calamity was never heard of." + +"I cannot afford London in the season; my purse is not long enough." + +"You shall stay with me. But what did you come for?" + +"A small matter of business brought me," replied Oscar, "and I have to +go down tomorrow--thank you all the same." + +He did not say what the business was; he did not choose to say. Mrs. +Dalrymple, still living at the Grange, had been tormented by doubts, +touching her son, for some time past. Recently she had heard rumours +that rendered her doubly uneasy, and she had begged of Oscar to come +up and find out whether there was any, or how much, ground for them. +If things were as bad as Mrs. Dalrymple feared, Oscar concluded that +from Robert he should hear nothing. He meant to put a question or two +to him, to make his observations silently, and, if necessary, to +question Reuben. They were of totally opposite natures, these two +young men; Oscar was all cool calculation, and the senior by +half-a-dozen years; Robert all thoughtless impulse. + +Oscar put the question to Robert in the course of the afternoon; but +Robert simply waived the subject, laughing in Oscar's face the while. +And from the observations Oscar made in South Audley Street, nothing +could be gathered; the rooms were quiet. + +They dined there in the evening, Reuben waiting on them. Robert urged +various outdoor attractions on Oscar afterwards, but he urged them in +vain: Oscar preferred to remain at home. So they sipped their wine, +and talked. At eleven o'clock Oscar rose to leave. + +"It is time for sober people to be in bed, Robert. I hope I have not +kept you up." + +Robert Dalrymple fairly exploded with laughter. Kept him up at only +eleven o'clock! "My evening is not begun yet," said he. + +"No!" returned Oscar, looking surprised, whether he felt so or not. +"What do you mean?" + +"I am engaged for the evening to Colonel Haughton." + +"It sounds a curious time to us quiet country people to begin an +evening. What are you going to do at Colonel Haughton's?" + +"Can't tell till I get there." + +"Can I accompany you?" + +Robert's face turned grave. "No," said he, "it is a liberty I may not +take. Colonel Haughton is a peculiar-tempered man." + +"Good-night." + +"Good-night, Oscar. Come to breakfast with me at ten." + +Oscar Dalrymple departed. But he did not proceed to the hotel where he +had engaged a bed. On the contrary, he took up his station in a shady +nook, whence he could see the door he had just come out of; and there +he waited patiently. Presently he saw Robert Dalrymple emerge from it, +and betake himself away. + +A little while yet waited Oscar, and then he retraced his steps to the +house, and rang the bell. Reuben answered it. A faithful servant, +getting in years now. Robert was the third of the family he had +served. + +"Reuben, I may have left my note-case in the dining-room," said Oscar. +"Can I look for it?" + +The note-case was looked for without success: and Oscar discovered +that it was safe in his pocket. Perhaps he knew that all the while. + +"I am sorry to have troubled you for nothing, Reuben. Did I call you +out of your bed?" + +"No, no," answered the man, shaking his head. "There's rarely much bed +for me before daylight, Mr. Oscar." + +"How's that?" + +"I suppose young men must be young men, sir. I should not mind that; +but Mr. Robert is getting into just the habits of his uncle." + +Oscar looked up quickly, "His uncle--Claude Dalrymple?" he asked in a +low tone. + +"Ay, he is, sir: and my heart is almost mad at times with fear. If my +dear late master was alive, I should just go down to the Grange and +tell him everything." + +An idea floated into the mind of Oscar as he listened. Mrs. Dalrymple +had not mentioned whence she had heard the rumours of Robert's doings: +he now thought it might have been from no other than Reuben. This +enabled him to speak out. + +"Reuben," he said, "I came up today at Mrs. Dalrymple's request. She +is terribly uneasy about her son. Tell me all, for I have to report it +at the Grange. If what we fear be true, something must be done to save +him." + +"It is all true, sir, and I wrote to warn my mistress," cried Reuben. +"Should things ever come to a crisis with him, as they did with his +uncle, I knew Mrs. Dalrymple would blame me bitterly for not having +spoken. And I should blame myself." + +Oscar Dalrymple gazed at Reuben, for the man's words had struck +ominously on his ear. "Do you fancy--do you fear--things may come to a +crisis with him, as they did with his uncle?" he breathed in a low +tone. + +"Not in the same way, sir; not as to _himself_," returned the man, in +agitation. "Mr. Oscar, how could you think it?" + +"Nay, Reuben, I think it! Your words alone led to the thought." + +"I meant as to his money, sir. He has fallen into a bad, gambling set, +just as Mr. Claude fell. One of them is the very same man: Colonel +Haughton. He ruined Mr. Claude, and he is ruining Mr. Robert. He was +Captain Haughton then; he is colonel now; but he has sold out of the +army long ago. He lives by gambling. I have told Mr. Robert so; but he +does not believe me." + +"That's where he is gone tonight." + +"Where he goes every night, Mr. Oscar. Haughton and those men have +lured him into their toils, and he can't escape them. He has not the +moral courage; and he has the mania for play upon him. He comes home +towards morning, flushed and haggard; sometimes in drink--yes, sir, +drinking and gaming mostly go together. He appeared laughing and +careless before you, but it was all put on." + +"Have you warned him--or tried to stop him?" + +"Yes, sir, once or twice; but it does no good. I don't like to say too +much: he might not take it from me. Those harpies won't let him rest; +they come hunting after him, just as they hunted his uncle a score, or +more, years ago. Nobody ever had a better heart than Mr. Robert; but +he is pliable, and gets led away." + +Oscar frowned. He thought Robert had no business to be "led away," and +he felt little tolerance for him. Reuben had told all he knew, and +Oscar wished him good-night and departed, full of painful thought +touching Robert. + +The night passed. In the morning Oscar went to South Audley Street to +breakfast. Robert was looking ill and anxious. + +"Been making a night of it?" said Oscar, lightly. "You look as though +you had." + +"Yes, I was late. Pour out the coffee, will you, Oscar?" + +His own hands were shaking. Oscar saw it as Robert opened his letters. +One of them bore the Netherleigh postmark, and was from Farmer Lee. +Oscar hardly knew how to open the ball, or what to say for the best. + +"I'm sure something is disturbing you, Robert. You have had no sleep; +that's easy to be seen. What pursuit can you have that it should keep +you up all night!" + +"One is never at a loss to kill time in London." + +"I suppose not, if it has to be killed. But I did not know it was +necessary to kill that which ought to be spent in sleep. One would +think you passed your nights at the gaming-table, Robert." + +The words startled him, and a flush rose to his pallid features. Oscar +was gazing at him steadily. + +"Robert, you look conscious. Have you learnt to gamble?" + +"Oh, it's nothing," said Robert, confusedly. "I may play a little now +and then." + +"Do not shirk the question. _Have you taken to play?_" + +"A little, I tell you. Never mind. It's my own affair." + +"You were playing last night?" + +"Well--yes, I was. Very little." + +"Lose or win?" asked Oscar, carelessly. + +"Oh, I lost," answered Robert. "The luck was against me." + +"Now, my good fellow, do you know what you had best do? Go home to +Moat Grange, and get out of this set; I know what gamesters are; they +never let a pigeon off till he is stripped of his last feather. Leave +with me for the Grange today, and cheat them; and stop there until +the mania for play shall have left you, though it should be years to +come." + +Ah, how heartily Robert Dalrymple wished in his heart that he could do +it!--that he could break through the net in which he was involved, in +more ways than one! "I cannot go to Moat Grange," he answered. + +"Your reasons." + +"Because I must stay where I am. I wish I had never come--never set up +these chambers; I do wish that. But, as I did so, here I am fixed." + +"I cannot think why you did come--flying from your home as soon as +your father was under ground. Had you succeeded to twenty thousand +a-year, you could but have made hot haste to launch out in the +metropolis." + +"I did not come to launch out," returned Robert, angrily. "I came to +get rid of myself. It was so wretched down there." + +Oscar stared. "What made it so?" + +"The remembrance of my father. Every face I met, every stick and stone +about the place seemed to reproach me with his death. And justly. But +for my carelessness he would not have died." + +"Well, that is all past and gone, Robert. You shall come back to the +Grange with me. You will be safe there." + +"No. It is too late." + +"It is not too late. What do you mean? If----" + +"I tell you it is too late," burst out Robert, in a sharp tone: and +Oscar thought it was full of anguish. + +He tried persuasion, he tried anger; and no impression whatever could +he make on Robert Dalrymple. _He_ thought Robert was wilfully, +wickedly obstinate; the secret truth being that Robert was ruined. +Oscar told him he "washed his hands" of him, and departed. + +It chanced that same afternoon that Robert was passing through +Grosvenor Square and met Mr. Grubb close to his house. Looking at him +casually, reader, he has not changed; he has the same noble presence, +the same gracious manner; nevertheless, the fifteen or sixteen months +that have elapsed since his marriage, have brought a look of care to +his refined and thoughtful face, a line of pain to his brow. They +shook hands. + +"Will you come in, Robert?" + +"I don't mind if I do," was the answer--for in good truth Robert +Dalrymple was too wretched not to seize on anything that might serve +to divert him from his own thoughts. But Mr. Grubb paused in sudden +remembrance. + +"Mary is here today. Have you any objection to meet her?" + +"Objection! I shall like it," answered Robert, with a flush of +emotion, for Mary Lynn was still inexpressibly dear to him. "I wish +with my whole heart that she was my wife--that we had never parted! It +was all my foolish doing." + +"I thought at the time you were rather chivalrous: I must say that," +observed Mr. Grubb, regarding him attentively. "I suppose, in point of +fact, you are both waiting for one another now." + +"Why do you say that?" asked the young man, in evident agitation. + +"Step in here, Robert," said Mr. Grubb, drawing him through the hall +to his own room, the library. "Mary persistently refuses to accept +good offers: she has had two during the past year; therefore, I +conclude that she and you have some private understanding upon the +point. I told her so one day, and all the answer I received consisted +of a laugh and a blush." + +It could have been nothing to the blush that rose to Robert's face +now; brow, ears, neck, all were dyed blood-red. The terrible +consciousness of how untrue this was, how untrue it was obliged to be, +was smiting him with reproachful sting. Mr. Grubb mistook the signs. + +"I think," he said, "that former parting was a mistake. It was +perfectly right and just that Mrs. Dalrymple should have been well +provided for, but----" + +"You think I should have taken Moat Grange myself, and procured +another home for my mother," interrupted Robert. "Most people do think +so. But, if you knew how I hated the sight of the Grange!--never a +single room of it but my poor dead father's face seemed to rise up to +confront me." + +"It might have been best that you should remain in your own home; we +will not discuss it now. What I want to say is this--that if you and +Mary have been really living upon hope, I don't see why you need live +upon it any longer. A portion of your own revenues you may surely +claim, a few hundreds yearly; and Mary shall bring as much grist to +the mill on her side." + +"You are very kind, very thoughtful," murmured Robert. + +"But there must be a proviso to that," continued Mr. Grubb. "Reports +have reached me that Robert Dalrymple is going headlong to the +bad--pardon me if I speak out the whispers freely--that he is becoming +reckless, a gamester, I know not what all. I do not believe this, +Robert; I do not wish to believe it. I have seen nothing to confirm +it, myself; you are in one set of London men, I am in another. In a +young man situated as you are, alone, without home-ties, some latitude +of conduct may be pardoned if he be a good man and true, he will soon +pull himself straight again. If you can assure me on your honour it is +nothing more than this, well and good. If it be more--if the worst of +the whispers but indicate the truth, you cannot of course think of +Mary. Robert, I say I leave this to your honour." + +"I should like to pull myself up beyond any earthly thing," spoke the +young man, in a flash of what looked far more like despair than hope. +"If I _could_ do it--and if Mary were my wife--I--I should have no +fear. Let us talk of this another day. Let me see her!" + +Mary was just then alone in what they called the grey drawing-room. A +lovely room; as indeed all the rooms were in Mr. Grubb's house, made +so by him in his love for his wife. He went in search of his wife, +giving Robert the opportunity of seeing Mary alone. + +Let no woman go to the altar cherishing dislike or contempt of him who +is to be her husband. Marriages of indifference are made in plenty, +and in time they may become unions of affection. But the other!--it is +the most fatal mistake that can be made. Lady Adela treated her +husband with scorn, _did so systematically_; she did not attempt to +conceal her dislike; she threw his love back upon him. On the very day +of their marriage, when she, in what appeared to be a fit of +petulance, drew down all the blinds of the chariot as they drove away +from Lord Acorn's door, and he, taking advantage of the privacy, laid +his hand on hers, and bent to whisper a word of love, perhaps to take +a kiss from her cheek, she effectually repressed him. "Pray do not +attempt these--endearments," she said in a scornful tone, "they are +not agreeable." Francis Grubb drew back to his corner of the carriage, +and a bitter blight fell upon his spirit. + +For some months past now, Lady Adela had been pale and thin, sick and +ill. She resented the indisposition strongly, for it prevented her +joining in the gaiety she loved, and went about wishing fretfully that +her baby was born. + +"Oh, Robert! _Robert!_" + +Mary Lynn had started up with a cry, so surprised was she to see him +enter. She stood blushing even to tears. And Robert? Conscious how +unworthy he was of her, how impossible it was that he should dare to +claim her, while the love within him was beating on his heart with +lively pain, he sat down with a groan and covered his face with his +hands. She thought he was ill. She went to him and knelt down, and +looked up at him in appealing fear. + +"Robert, what is it--what is amiss?" + +And for answer, Robert Dalrymple, utterly overcome by the vivid sense +of the remorseful past, of despair for the future, let his face fall +upon her shoulder, and burst into a fit of heart-rending sobs so +terrible for a man to yield himself to. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. +DESPERATION. + + +Alone in the oak-parlour at Moat Grange, playing soft bits of melody +in the summer twilight, sat Selina Dalrymple, her very pretty face +slightly flushed, her bright hair pushed from her face. Ordinarily of +a calm and equable temperament, Selina was yet rather given to work +herself up to restlessness on occasion. She was expecting Oscar +Dalrymple; and though the excitement did not arise for himself, it did +for the news he might bring. + +"There he is!" she cried, as a step was heard on the gravel. "He has +walked up from the station." + +Oscar Dalrymple came in, very quiet as usual, not a speck of dust or +other sign of travel upon him, looking spick and span, as though he +had but come out of the next room. Oscar Dalrymple's place, a small +patrimony called Knutford, lay some three or four miles off; he would +probably walk on there by-and-by, if he did not sleep at the Grange. + +"I thought you would come!" exclaimed Selina, gladly springing towards +him. + +"I told Mrs. Dalrymple I should return before Saturday," was his +answer, as he took her hand, and kept it in his. "Where is she?" + +"Gone with Alice to dine at Court Netherleigh," replied Selina. "I +sent an excuse: I was impatient to see you." + +"Thank you, Selina!" he whispered in low, warm tones. "That is a great +admission from you." + +"Not to see _you_; but for what you might have to tell," she hastened +to say. "Oscar, how vain you are!" + +She sat down in the bow-window, in what remaining light there was, and +he took a chair opposite to her. Then she asked him his news. + +"Do you know exactly why I went up?" he inquired with some hesitation, +in doubt how far he ought to speak. + +"I know all," she answered pointedly. "I saw Reuben's letter to mamma; +and her fears are my fears. We keep it from poor Alice." + +In a hushed voice, befitting the subject and the twilight hour, Oscar +related to her what he had gathered in London. The very worst +impression lay on his own mind: namely, that Robert was going rapidly +to the dogs, money and honour and peace, and all; nay; had already +gone; but he did not make the worst of it to Selina. He said that +Robert seemed to be on a downward course, and would not listen to any +sort of reason. + +Selina sat in dismay; her soft dark eyes fixed on the evening sky, her +hands clasped on the dress of blue silk she wore. The evening star +shone in the heavens. + +"What will be the end of it, Oscar?" + +Oscar did not immediately answer. The end of it, as he fully believed, +would be ruin. Utter ruin for Robert; and that would involve ruin for +his mother and sisters. + +"Does Robert really _play?_" pursued Selina. + +"I fear he does. Yes." + +"Could--could he play away our home--Moat Grange?" + +"For his own life. That is, mortgage its revenues." + +"But you don't, surely, _fear_ it will come to this?" she cried in +agitation. + +"Selina, I hardly know what I fear. Robert is not my brother, and I +could not--I had no right--to question too closely. Neither, if I had +questioned, and--and heard the worst--do I see what I could have done. +Matters have gone too far for any aid, any suggestion, that I could +have given." + +"What would become of us? Poor mamma! Poor Alice! Oh, what a trouble!" + +"You, at least, can escape the trouble, Selina; you can let me take +you out of it. My home is not the luxurious home you have been +accustomed to here; but it will afford you every comfort--if you will +only come to it. Oh, my love, why do you let me plead to you so long +in vain!" + +Selina Dalrymple pouted her pretty red lips. Oscar loved her to folly. +She did not discourage him; did not absolutely encourage him. She +liked him very well, and she liked his homage, for she was one of the +vainest girls living; but, as to marrying him?--that was another +thing. Had he possessed the rent-roll of a duke, she would have had +him tomorrow; his income was a small one, and she loved pomp and +show. + +"Now, Oscar!" she remonstrated, putting him off as usual. "Is it a +time to bring in that nonsense, when we are talking and thinking of +poor Robert? And here come mamma and Alice, for that's Miss Upton's +carriage bringing them. They said they should be home early." + +And now we have to go back some few hours. It is very inconvenient, as +the world knows, to tell two portions of a story at one and the same +time. + + +Turning out of one of the handsomest houses in Grosvenor Square, in +the bright sunshine of this same Friday afternoon in June, went Robert +Dalrymple, his step spiritless, a look of perplexity and pain on his +young and attractive face. He had been saying farewell to Mary Lynn, +and he felt, in his despairing heart, that it must be for life. Just a +hint he whispered to her of the worst--that he had been heedless and +reckless, and was ruined; but, woman-like, fond and confiding, she had +told him she never would believe it, and if it was so, there existed +all the more reason for her clinging to him. + +Ah, if it only might be! If the prospect just suggested to him by that +good man, Francis Grubb, might only be realized! If he could pull up at +any cost, and enter upon a peaceful life! _If!_ None knew better than +himself that there was no chance of it. All he had was gone--and, had +not Mr. Grubb left it to his honour? + +Robert Dalrymple was ruined. Bitterly was the fact impressing itself +upon him, as he walked there under the summer sunlight. Not only were +all his available funds spent, but he had entered into liabilities +thick and threefold, far beyond what the rent-roll at the Grange would +be sufficient to meet. He had told Oscar Dalrymple this very morning +that he did not play much the previous night. Oscar did not believe +it, but it was true. Why did he not play much? Because he had nothing +left to play with, and had sat, gloomy and morose, looking on at the +other players. Introduced to the evil fascinations of play by Colonel +Haughton, he was drawn on until the unhappy mania took hold upon +himself. To remain away from the gambling table for one night would +have been intolerable, for the feverish disease was raging within him. +Poor infatuated man!--poor infatuated men, all of them, who thus lose +themselves!--he was positively still indulging a vision of success and +hope. Every time that he approached the pernicious table, it was rife +within him, buoying him up, and urging him on--that luck might turn in +his favour, and he might win the Grange back--or, rather, the money +he had lost upon it. Thus it is with all gamblers who are +comparatively fresh to the vice; only the vile old sinners such as +Colonel Haughton and his confederate, Piggott, know what such is +worth. The ignis-fatuus, delusive hope, beckoning ever onwards, lures +them to their destruction. Pandora's box, you know, contained every +imaginable evil, but Hope lay at the bottom. Even now, as Robert is +walking to South Audley Street, a feverish gleam of hope is positively +rising up within him. If he had only money to go to the tables that +night, who knew but luck might turn, and he could extricate himself +from his most pressing debts, and so be able to tell the whole truth +to Mr. Grubb?--and how carefully he would avoid all evil in future, +when Mary should be his wife! But--where was the use of conjuring up +these fantastic visions, he asked himself, as he flung himself into a +chair in his sitting-room, when he had no money to stake? + +Everything was gone, every available thing; he had nothing left but +the watch he had about him, and the ring he wore--and a few loose +shillings in his pocket. Nothing whatever, in the house, or out of it. + +Yes, he had, but it was not his. Farmer Lee, wishing to invest a few +hundred pounds in the funds, had prayed his young landlord to transact +the business for him, and save him a journey to London. Robert +good-naturedly acquiesced. Had any man told him he could touch that +money for his own purposes, he would have knocked the offender down in +his indignation. The cheque, for the money to be transferred, had come +from Mr. Lee that morning. There it lay now, on the table at his +elbow, and there sat Robert, striving to turn his covetous eyes from +it, yet unable, for it was beginning to bear for him the fascination +of the basilisk. He wished it was in the midst of some blazing fire, +rather than lying there to tempt him. For the notion had seized upon +his mind that it was with this money, if he might dare to stake it, he +might win back a portion of what he had lost. With a shudder he shook +off the idea, and looked at his watch. Was it too late to take the +cheque to its destination? Yes, it was; the afternoon was waning, and +business places would be closed. Robert felt half inclined to hand it +to Reuben, and tell him to keep it in safety. + +While in this frame of mind, that choice friend of his, Mr. Piggott, +honoured him with a call. Whether that worthy gentleman scented the +presence of the cheque, or heard of it casually from Robert, who was +candid to a fault, certain it was that he did not leave Robert +afterwards, but sat with him until the dinner-hour, and then took him +out to dine. Robert locked up the cheque in his desk before he went. + +About eleven o'clock he came home again, heated with wine. Opening his +desk, he snatched out the cheque and hid it away in his breast-pocket, +as if it were something he had a horror of looking at. Piggott and +Colonel Haughton had plied him with something besides wine; alluring +hopes. Turning to leave the room, buttoning his coat over what it +contained, he saw Reuben standing there. + +"Mr. Robert!--do not go out again tonight." + +Robert stared at the man. + +"Sir, I carried you in my arms when you were a child; your father, the +very day he died, told me to give you a word of warning, if I saw you +going wrong; let that be my excuse for speaking to you as you may +think I have no right to do," pleaded Reuben, the tears standing in +his faithful old eyes. "Do not go out again, sir; for this night, at +any rate, stay away from the set; they are nothing but blacklegs. +There's that Piggott waiting for you outside the door." + +"Reuben, don't be a fool. How dare you say my friends are blacklegs?" + +"They are so, sir. And you are losing your substance to them; and it +won't be their fault if they don't get it all." + +Robert, eager to go out to his ruin, hot with wine, would not waste +more words. He moved to the door, but Reuben moved more quickly than +he, and stood with his back against it. + +"What farce is this?" cried Robert, in his temper. "Stand away from +the door, or I shall be tempted to fling you from it." + +"Oh, sir, hear reason!" And the man's manner was so painfully urgent, +that a half-doubt crossed his master's mind whether he could know what +it was he was about to stake. "Three or four and twenty years ago, Mr. +Robert--I'm not sure as to a year--I stood, in like manner, praying +your uncle Claude not to go out to his ruin. He had come to London, +sir, as fine and generous a young man as you, and the gamblers got +hold of him, and drew him into their ways, and stuck to him like a +leech, till all he had was gone. Moat Grange was played away, +mortgaged, or bartered, or whatever it might be, for the term of his +life; there's a clause in its deeds, as I take it you know, sir, that +prevents its owner from encumbering it for longer--and, perhaps, +that's usual with other estates----" + +"You are an idiot, Reuben," interrupted Robert, his tone less fierce. + +"A night came when Mr. Claude was half mad," continued Reuben, +unheeding the interruption. "I saw he was; and I stood before him, and +prayed him not to go out with them, as I am now praying you. It was of +no use, and he went. If I tell you what that night brought forth, sir, +will you regard it as a warning?" + +"What did it bring forth?" demanded Robert, arrested to interest. + +"I will tell you, sir, if you will take warning by it, and break with +those gamblers this night, and never go amongst them more. Will you +promise, Mr. Robert?" + +"Out of the way, Reuben!" was the impatient rejoinder. "You are +getting into your dotage. If you have nothing to tell me, let me go." + +"Listen, then," cried Reuben, bending his head forward, in his +excitement. "At three o'clock that same morning, Mr. Dalrymple +returned. He had been half-mad, I say, when he went, he was wholly mad +when he came back; mad with despair and despondency. He came in, his +head down, his steps lagging, and went into his bedroom. I went to +mine, and was undressing, when he called me back. He had got his +portmanteau from against the wall, opened it, and was standing over +it, looking in, his coat and cravat off, and the collar of his shirt +unbuttoned. 'Reuben,' said he, 'I have made up my mind to leave +London, and take a journey.' + +"'Down to the Grange, sir?' I asked, my heart leaping within me at the +good news. + +"'No, not to the Grange this time; it's farther than that. But as I +have not informed any one of my intention I must leave a word with +you, in case I am inquired after.' + +"'Am I not to attend you, sir?' I interrupted. + +"'No, I shan't want you particularly,' he answered; 'you'll do more +good here. Tell all who may inquire for me, and especially my brother' +(your father, sir, you know), 'that although they may think I did +wrong to start alone on a road where I have never been, I am obliged +to do so. I cannot help myself. Tell them I deliberated upon it before +making up my mind, and that I undertake it in the possession of all my +faculties and senses.' Those were the words." + +"Well," cried Robert, impatient for the end of the tale. + +"I found these words somewhat strange," continued Reuben, "but his +true meaning never struck me--Oh," wailed the old man, clasping his +hands, "it never struck me. My thoughts only turned to Scotland; for +my master had been talking of going there to see a Scotch laird, a +friend of his, and I believed he had now taken a sudden resolution to +pay the visit; I thought he had pulled out his trunk to put in some +things before I packed it. I asked him when he intended to start, and +he replied that I should know all in the morning; and I went back to +my bed." + +Robert sat down on the nearest chair: his eyes were strained on +Reuben. Had he a foreshadowing of what was to come? + +"In the morning one of the women-servants came and woke me. Her +face startled me the moment I opened my eyes; it was white and +terror-stricken, and she asked me what that stream of red meant that +had trickled from under the door of the master's chamber. I went there +when I had put a thing or two on. Master Robert," he added, dropping +his voice to a dread whisper, his thoughts wholly back in the past, +"he had indeed gone on his long journey." + +"Was he dead?" + +"He had been dead for hours. The razor was lying beside him near the +door. I have never quite got over that dreadful sight: and the thought +has always haunted me that, had I understood his meaning properly, it +might have been prevented." + +"His trunk--what did he get that out for?" asked Robert, after a +pause. + +"To blind me, sir--as I have believed since--while he gave the +message." + +"Why did he commit the deed?" gloomily continued Robert, whom the +account seemed to have partially sobered. + +"He had fallen into the clutches of the same sort of people that you +have, sir, and they had fleeced him down to beggary and shame, and he +had not the resolution to leave them, and face the poverty; that was +why he did it. His worst enemy was Captain Haughton. He is Colonel +Haughton now." + +"What do you mean?" cried Robert Dalrymple, after a pause of +astonishment. + +"Yes, sir, the same man. He is your evil genius, and he was your +uncle's before you. The last time I saw him, in the old days, was when +we both stood together over my master's dead body; he came in, along +with others. 'He must have been stark mad,' was his exclamation. +'Perhaps so, Captain Haughton,' I answered, 'but the guilt lies on +those who drove him so.' He took my meaning, and he slunk away out of +the room. Mr. Robert," added the old man, the tears streaming down his +cheeks, "do you know what I like to fancy--and to hope?" + +Robert lifted his eyes. + +"Why, that the _punishment_ will lie with these wretched tempters, as +well as the guilt. The good God is just and merciful." + +Robert did not speak. Reuben resumed. + +"The first time that Haughton called here upon you, sir, I knew him, +and he knew me; and I don't think he liked it. He has never come here +himself since; I don't know whether you've noticed it, sir, he has +sent that Piggott--the man that's waiting for you outside now. Mr. +Robert, you had better have fallen into the meshes of the Fiend +himself than into that man Haughton's." + +"My uncle must have been insane when he did that," broke from Robert +Dalrymple. + +"The jury said otherwise," sadly answered Reuben. "They brought +it in felo-de-se; and he was buried by torchlight, without the +burial-service." + +The news had told upon Robert. His mind just then was a chaos. Nothing +tangible showing out of it, save that his plight was as bad as his +uncle Claude's had been, and that he was looking, in his infatuation, +for that night to redeem it. Could he go on with his work--with that +example before him? For a while he sat thinking, his head bent, his +eyes closed; then he rose up, and signed to Reuben to let him pass. +The latter's spirit sank within him. + +"Is what I have told you of no avail, Mr. Robert? Are you still bent +on going forth to those wicked men? It will be your ruin." + +"It is that already, Reuben. As it was with my uncle, so it is with +me: I am ruined, and worse than ruined, and after tonight I will know +Colonel Haughton no more. But I have resolved to make one desperate +effort this night to redeem myself; something whispers to me that I +shall have luck; and--and you don't know how much lies upon it." + +He was thinking of his union with Mary Lynn, poor infatuated man. +Could he redeem himself in a degree this night, he would disclose his +position to Mr. Grubb, entreat his condonation of the past, and +forswear play for ever. A tempting prospect. Nevertheless the tale had +staggered him. + +"Don't go, don't go, Mr. Robert. I ask you on my bended knees." + +"Get up, Reuben! don't be foolish. Perhaps I will not go. But I must +tell Piggott: I cannot keep him waiting there all night." + +Reuben could do no more. He stood aside, and his young master went +forth, _hesitating_. + +What strange infatuation could it have been, that it should so cling +to him? Any one who has never been drawn into the fiery vortex of +gambling would have a difficulty in understanding it. Robert Dalrymple +was a desperate man, and yet a hopeful one, for this night might lift +him out of despair. Moreover, the feverish yearning for play, in +itself, was strong upon him: as it always was now at that night hour. +As yet, the penalty he had incurred was but embarrassment and poverty: +he was now about to stake what was not his, and risk guilt. And yet, +_he went forth_: for the dreadful vice had got fast hold of him; and +he knew that the hesitation in his mind was but worthless hesitation; +a species of sophistry. + +Mr. Piggott had been cooling his heels and his patience outside, not +blessing his young friend for the unnecessary and unexpected delay, +and not doing the opposite. He was of too equable a nature to curse +and swear: he left that to his peppery partner, Haughton. + +"I thought you were gone to bed," he said, when Robert appeared: "in +another minute I should have come in to see after you." + +And it was a wonder he did not go in. But Colonel Haughton had +whispered a word of caution as to Reuben, and neither of them cared to +pursue the master too persistently in the man's sight. Robert +Dalrymple spoke of his hesitation, saying he was not sure he should +play that night. He did want to keep the farce of prudence up, even to +himself. + +"You have that cheque in your pocket, I suppose?" sharply questioned +Piggott. + +"Yes. But----" + +"Come on, then; we'll talk of it as we go along." And Robert linked +his arm within Mr. Piggott's and walked on in the direction of Jermyn +Street. + +They entered the "hell." It is not a pleasant word for polite pens and +ears, but it is an exceedingly appropriate one. It was blazing with +light, and as hot as its name; and fiery countenances of impassioned +triumph, and agonized countenances of vacillating suspense, and sullen +countenances of despair were crowding there. Colonel Haughton was in a +private room: it was mostly kept for himself and his friends, a choice +knot of whom stood around. Poor Robert's infatuation, under Mr. +Piggott's able tuition, had returned upon him. Down he sat at the +green cloth, wild and eager. + +"It is of no use to make fools of us," whispered Colonel Haughton. +"You know you do not possess another stiver; why take up a place?" + +"Now, Haughton, you are too stringent," benevolently interposed Mr. +Piggott, laying hold of the colonel's arm, and giving it a peculiar +pinch. "Here is Dalrymple, with an impression that luck will be upon +him tonight, a conviction of it, indeed, and you are afraid of giving +him his revenge. It is his turn to win now. As to stakes, he says he +has something with him that will do." + +Robert drew the cheque from his pocket, and dashed it before Colonel +Haughton. "I am prepared to stake this," he said. "Nothing risk, +nothing win. Luck must favour me tonight; even Piggott says so, and +he knows how bad it has been." + +Colonel Haughton ran his spectacles over the cheque. "I see," he said: +"it will do. The risking it is your business, not ours." + +"Of course it is mine," answered Robert. + +"Then put your signature to it. Here by the side of the other." + +It was done, and they sat down to play. "Nothing risk, nothing win," +Robert had said; he had better have said, "Nothing risk, nothing +lose;" and have acted upon it. A little past midnight, he went +staggering out of that house, a doomed man. All was over, all lost. +Farmer Lee's money, or the cheque representing it, had passed out of +his possession, and he was a criminal. A criminal in the sight of +himself, soon to be a criminal in the sight of the world; liable to be +arrested and tried at the bar of Justice, a common felon. + +He had tasted nothing since he entered, yet he reeled about the +pavement as one who is the worse for drink. What was to become of him? +Involuntarily the fate his unfortunate uncle Claude had resorted to +came across his mind: nay, it had not been away from it. Even in the +mad turmoil of that last hour, when the suspense was awful to bear, +and hope and dread had fought with each other as a meeting whirlwind, +the facts of that dark history had been thrusting themselves forward. + +His face was burning without, and his brain was burning within. It was +a remarkably windy night, and he took off his hat and suffered the +breeze to blow on his miserable brow. And so he paced the streets, +going from home, not to it. Where could he go? he with the brand of +crime and shame upon him? He got to Charing Cross, and there he +halted, and listened to the different clocks striking one. Should he +turn back to South Audley Street? And encounter Reuben, who had tried +to save him, and had failed? And go to bed, and wait, with what +calmness he might, till the law claimed him? Hardly. Anywhere but +home. The breeze was stronger now: it blew from the direction of the +water. Robert Dalrymple replaced his hat, pulled it firmly on his head +to hide his eyes from the night, and dragged his steps towards +Westminster Bridge. + +Of all places in the world!--the bridge and the tempting stream!--what +evil power impelled him thither? + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. +PERVERSITY. + + +In the bed of a large and luxurious chamber, her delicate face +pressing the pillow, her eyes closed to the shaded light, lay Lady +Adela Grubb. The baby she so wished for had come at last. Not that it +was the baby itself she wanted, but that she might be at liberty +through renewed health to mingle with the great world again. To be +deprived of its gaiety and obliged to keep herself very much at home +had been to her a species of intolerable thraldom. + +The baby was born on Friday night: a few hours subsequent to Robert +Dalrymple's interview with Mr. Grubb and Mary Lynn. Mary, only in +Grosvenor Square for the afternoon, returned to Blackheath unconscious +of the close approach of the event. The illness had been a favourable +one; and Adela, on this Sunday morning, was going on well towards +recovery. She had taken her breakfast, and was ready to see her +husband. The doctor had only now gone out. + +A wee cry from the cradle caused her to open her eyes. An elderly +woman, with soft step, bent over the cradle, and would have hushed the +baby to sleep again. + +"Put him here, nurse. I want to look at him." + +The nurse took up the white bundle, and laid it in the great bed, +beside Lady Adela. The little pale face was turned to her; for it was +a pale face, not a red one; and she lay looking at it. The child +opened its eyes: and, young though it was, one could see it had the +beautiful grey-blue eyes of its father. Her own brilliant yet soft +brown eyes grew fond as she gazed on the still face. + +"Is he quite healthy, nurse?" she suddenly asked. + +For the space of half a moment the nurse hesitated. "He was born quite +healthy, my lady; but I think he might get on better if you nursed +him. Some infants require their mother more than others do. I suspect +this one does." + +She made no reply; except by an all but imperceptible toss of the +head: one can't toss effectively lying down. There had been some +trouble with Lady Adela on the score of nursing the child. Nothing +would induce her to do it. It would be well for her and well for the +little one, Dr. Dove had said. Adela would not listen. Her mother, +Lady Acorn, had treated her to a sharp scolding the day before, +Saturday, and told her she was "unnatural." All the same: Adela +indignantly demanded whether they thought she should give up the +season for any infant in the world. She was also obstinate on another +score--she would not allow, would not hear of, a nurse being sought to +supply her place. And there she lay this morning: her own head on one +pillow, the child's on another. One of the windows was open behind the +drawn blind, admitting a breath of the warm June air. On a stand at +Lady Adela's elbow lay a bouquet of sweet-scented, lovely hot-house +flowers. + +"Little wee thing!" she fondly cried, stretching out her fingers to +stroke the baby's soft face, and its fragile hand that lay so still. + +A tap at the door. The nurse answered it and admitted Mr. Grubb; she +herself then retiring to the next room, which opened from this one. He +came to the bed, bent over his wife and gently kissed her. + +"Oh, don't!" she cried, turning her cheek ungraciously from him, just +as she had for the most part done ever since their wedding-day. It had +grown into a habit now. + +"Adela," he whispered, biting his trembling lips to keep down the +pain, "should not this little treasure, our child, teach you to be +more of a loving wife to me?" + +"I am very sorry it has come," she answered in fretful tones. "I'm +sure I shall be if they are going to worry me over it. You should hear +mamma go on:--and Grace, too!--with their old-fashioned notions." + +"No one shall worry you," he fondly said. "Tell me, Adela, what you +would like his name to be?" + +"His name!" she repeated, looking up in quick surprise. "Time enough +for that." + +"Dr. Dove thinks it may be as well to have him baptized. He came into +the library just now, as he went out; and, in talking of one thing and +another, he chanced to mention this." _Chanced_ to mention this! Mr. +Grubb was cautious not to alarm his wife. + +"The baby is not ill! Is it?" + +"No, no, I trust not, Adela. It is a delicate little thing; all babies +are, perhaps: and--and it is as well, you know, to be on the safe +side." + +"But I should like a christening. A grand, proper christening; to be +held when I get well." + +"Of course. His being baptized now will make no difference to that. I +think it must be done, my dear." + +"In this room, then; by my bedside. I should like to see it." + +"You shall. And now, what name?" + +Adela lay back on the pillow, her cheeks slightly flushed with their +delicate pink, fresh and pure as the hue of a seashell, her eyes cast +upwards in thought. + +"I should like it to have papa's name--George." + +"George Frederick?" + +"Not Frederick: I don't care about the name. George--would you like +also your own name--Francis?" she broke off to ask. "George Francis?" + +"Would you care to have it Francis?" he returned, his tone one of +emotion, bending over her until his face nearly touched hers. + +She heard the tone, she saw the wet eyelashes shading the wonderful +grey eyes, with their yearning, earnest expression. It flashed into +her mind to remember how few men were his equals, in looks, in worth, +in loving indulgence to a rebellious wife. Adela was not quite proof +against her better nature. She was not always hard. + +"Yes, I should; and he has your eyes," she whispered softly, in answer +to the question, her own sweet eyes lifted to her husband's. + +"Adela," he breathed, his voice low with its agitation, "you do love +me a little! You surely do!" + +"Just a very little--sometimes," she whispered in a half-saucy, +half-loving tone. And, when he let his face fall on hers, she for once +held it there, and welcomed the kisses from his lips. + +It was all the work of the baby, his child and hers, thought he in his +glad heart. But no. Now and again, at rare intervals, Adela did feel a +spark of tenderness for him: though instead of letting it come to +fruit, of allowing him to see it, she forced it back to the coldness +she had taken up, and resolutely steeled her heart against him. +Illness had just now somewhat softened her spirit. + +He went round the bed to the side where the baby lay, and looked at it +long and earnestly. The doctor had just told him that he did not feel +altogether easy on the score of the child; could not be sure that it +was likely to live. + +"It is a pale little blossom, Adela. I thought babies were generally +red." + +"Frightfully red. I have seen them." + +"Well, we will get it baptized; and then----" + +"What?" she cried--for he had stopped. + +"And then, I was going to say, whether it lives or dies, it will be +safe in its Saviour's arms." + +"But you do not _think_ it will die?" she cried, taking up some alarm. +"Oh, Francis, I should not like him to die, now he has come!" + +He went round to soothe her, the word "Francis" causing his heart to +leap. For in a general way she persistently called him "Mr. Grubb," +and not graciously either. + +"My darling, I assure you there is no cause for alarm. So far as I +know, the child is not ill; it will, I hope, do well. Dr. Dove does +not think him particularly strong--but what can be expected of a +two-day-old baby?" + +"True," answered Adela, feeling reassured again. "Francis, I do +believe there's mamma coming up! Yes, it is her voice. Mind you don't +tell her----" + +Lady Acorn came swiftly in; and, what he was not to tell her, Mr. +Grubb never knew. She had dressed early for church, and came round to +see Adela on her way to it. Grace was with her. One of the daughters +had married during the past year, but it was not Grace. It was +Harriet; she had espoused a little Scotch laird, Sir Sandy MacIvor. +Peppery and red, in came the countess, for she had just heard +something that vexed her; Lady Grace, so calm and still, presented a +contrast to her vivacious mother. + +"Well, and now what's this I hear about things not going on well?" +began Lady Acorn, subduing her voice with difficulty to the +requisition of a sick-room. + +"I am going on very well, mamma--how do you mean?" returned Adela, +assuming the doubt must apply to herself. "I have made a famous +breakfast. They let me have an egg and some buttered toast." + +"You are all right, Dove says--we have just met him," returned Lady +Acorn. "But he does not think the baby is. And you have yourself to +thank for it, Adela." + +The pink tinge on Lady Adela's cheeks increased to rose colour, as she +armed herself to do battle with her mother. + +"Dove says the baby wants its proper food; not that gruel stuff, or +milk-and-water, or whatever rubbish it is, that it is being dosed +with. And it is not too late for you to reform, Adela, and do what you +ought." + +"It is too late," retorted Adela, with flaming cheeks. "And +if you begin about it again, mamma, you will make me ill. +Francis"--stretching out her arm for her husband--"don't let me be +worried. You promised me, you know." + +With a loving word to his wife, a reassuring pressure of her hand, +which he kept in his, he turned to Lady Acorn, and spoke to her in a +low tone. + +"Talk to her when she's better and more able to bear it!" repeated the +countess, taking up his words aloud. "Why, my good man, it would be +too late. And--you do not want to lose your child, I suppose!" + +"Indeed, I do not. But, better lose my child than my wife." + +"_She_ is well enough, and safe enough," spoke the mother, secure in +her superior knowledge. "Adela has been an indulged girl all her life, +and you, her husband, continue the indulgence. It is not good for her; +mark you that. With regard to this caprice of hers, the not +undertaking the poor sickly baby, you ought to hold her to her duty, +Mr. Grubb, and insist upon her fulfilling it." + +He turned to his wife, his eyes unconsciously wearing a pleading look. +"If you would only suffer yourself to be persuaded, Adela! For the +child's sake." + +Adela looked at them separately; at her husband, at her mother, at +Grace, standing with a cold and impassive countenance that did not +betoken approbation; and she took up an idea that they were in league +with one another to "hold her to her duty," and enforce obedience. Had +not the doctor talked to her that very morning: had not the nurse +subsequently presumed to hint at an opinion? Yes, they were all in +league together. Lady Adela turned rebellious, and flung her husband's +hand away with passionate anger. + +"Why do you come into my room at all?" she exclaimed to him. "You know +I do not want you." + +At that moment the nurse looked in from the adjoining apartment and +made a sign to Mr. Grubb. He obeyed it at once, taking no notice of +his wife or her cruel words. + +"There! you have driven him away now!" cried Lady Acorn, on the eve of +an explosion: for she had not seen the summons of the nurse. "You will +never go to heaven, Adela, for your wickedness to your husband." + +Adela did not make any answer: perhaps she was feeling a little sorry +in her heart: and there ensued a silence. The sweet-toned bells, +calling people to service, rang out on the air. + +Mr. Grubb came in again. Feeling more alarmed in his heart at the +doctor's words than he allowed to appear, and anxious for the child, +he had written a note as the medical man left him, and sent it to a +young assistant clergyman whose lodgings were close by. He had now +called, on his way to church, ready to perform the ceremony at once if +it were wished for, and a servant had come up to inform the nurse. + +"Mr. Wilkinson has called, and is asking after you," began Mr. Grubb +to his wife, voice and demeanour a model of quietness, not to say +indifference. "It struck me, Adela, that he might as well baptize the +child--as he is here. He has time to do it before service." + +"What a hurry you are in!" she returned, ungraciously. + + "As well take +the opportunity of his being here, Adela. And then it will be over." + +"Oh, well, yes--if it has to be done," conceded she. "I'm sure there's +no necessity for it. Let Wilkinson come up." + +Lady Acorn's sharp red nose turned purple. She had listened in +surprise. Saying nothing to Adela, she trotted into the dressing-room, +and shut the door. + +"What's this, nurse--about the child being baptized?" + +"I believe it is going to be done, my lady. Mr. Grubb has just said a +word to me." + +"Is it so ill as that?" + +"Well, no, I did not think it was," acknowledged the woman. "Dr. Dove +did not much like its look this morning; I saw that. I suppose he +spoke to Mr. Grubb more fully than to me." + +"Do _you_ think it is in any danger?" + +The nurse paused before replying. "One can never be quite sure of +these very young infants. When it was born, I thought it a nice +healthy little thing; yesterday it seemed quiet and peeky, and wailed +a bit; this morning it seems anything but well, and does not take its +food. Still, my lady, I can't say that it is in danger." + +Lady Acorn nodded her head and her bonnet two or three times, as if +not satisfied with affairs in general, and went back to her daughter's +room. + +The young clergyman came up; things were made ready; and they gathered +round in a group at the bedside, kneeling down for the short +preparatory prayers used in private baptism. When they arose, the +clergyman took the child in his arms from Grace, who had held it. + +"Name this child." + +"George," promptly spoke the mother from the bed, her tone giving +emphasis to the word. And Francis Grubb's face flushed as he heard it. +Ah, what pain was often his! + +The short service was soon over. Mr. Wilkinson departed for his +church; Lady Acorn and Grace followed him. The nurse had gone back to +the dressing-room. Mr. Grubb stood by the bed in which the quiet child +had again been laid. + +"I thought you were going to church?" said Lady Adela. + +"Yes; directly." He wanted especially to go to church that day; to +return thanks to God for the mercy vouchsafed him in the preservation +of his wife. Though, indeed, he had not waited to be in church to do +that. + +"How quiet the baby was all through it!" cried Adela. + +"Very quiet. Too quiet, your mother says." + +"Mamma says all sorts of things when she is in a temper, as you have +learnt by this time, and she is in one this morning," was Adela's +light, and not over-dutiful remark. Not but that it was true. + +Mr. Grubb had taken the child in his arms, and stood looking down upon +it. Save that its eyes were open and that it breathed, it seemed still +enough for death. He did not understand babies, but he did think this +one was unnaturally quiet. + +"Why are you looking at him so attentively?" asked Adela, by-and-by. + +"I don't think he can be well." + +"But--you don't think he is ill, do you?" returned she after a pause, +and speaking quickly. + +"Adela, I do not know. He seems to me to have changed a little in the +last half-hour, since I first came in. Of course I may be mistaken." + +"Suppose you send for Dr. Dove?" + +"I can send if you like: he has only just gone, you know. The nurse +does not seem to be"--alarmed, he was about to say, but changed the +word--"anxious; so all may be well." + +He put the baby in its place, and Lady Adela raised her head to look +at it. "He gets paler, I think," she observed; "and, as you say, he is +very, very quiet. Poor little thing! he has no strength yet." + +"He cannot have much of that," remarked Mr. Grubb. "The nurse says she +cannot get him to take his food. If he does not, he must sink, Adela." + +Their eyes met. There was certainly no reproach in his, only a settled +look of pain. Adela did not want her baby to die, and the fear of it +was beginning to trouble her; she was aware that, looking at matters +from _their_ point of view, her enemies', she might not be altogether +unconscious of meriting some reproach. Back she lay on the pillow +again, and burst into tears. + +Mr. Grubb went round, bent down, and sheltered her head on his breast. +"I don't want him to die," she sobbed. + +"Won't you try to save him?" he whispered in his tenderly persuasive +tones, as he held her face close to his own. + +"But the trouble!--and the sacrifice. Oh, how cross and contrary the +world sometimes is!" + +"Your own child and mine, Adela! It would be only a little sacrifice, +a little trouble. When he gets older, he will repay you love for +love." + +A pause. "I suppose you will be very cross with me if I don't, +Francis." + +"Am I ever cross with you! I should grieve for the child, if he died; +I should grieve for your grief, for I know you would feel it. Oh, my +darling, won't you try to save him? To do so must be right in God's +sight." + +She cried silently for a minute longer, her wet cheek lying +contentedly against his. "Perhaps I will," she whispered in his ear. +"For _his_ sake, you know." + +"For all our sakes, Adela." + +"Put him nearer to me, please. I will look at him again--whether he +does seem ill. And how late you will be at church!" + +"Not very: the bell is going yet," said Mr. Grubb. He placed the +infant where she could look at it closely; gave her a farewell kiss, +and departed. Adela rang for the nurse. + +"You may throw away all the stupid gruel, nurse. I shall not let the +baby have any more of it." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. +JOSEPH HORN'S TESTIMONY. + + +"Some one is waiting to see you, sir," said one of Mr. Grubb's +servants to him, as he entered the house on his return from church. + +"Who is it?" + +"Mr. Dalrymple's man, sir. He has been waiting nearly an hour." + +Reuben came forward from the back of the hall. The moment Mr. Grubb +caught sight of his face, usually so full of healthy bloom, now pale +and woe-begone, he was seized with a presentiment of evil. + +"Come into the library, Reuben," he said. "Have you brought ill news +of any kind?" he added, shutting the door. "What is it?" + +And to make matters more intelligible to you, reader, we will go back +to the past Friday night, when Robert Dalrymple left his lodgings in +the company of Mr. Piggott, leaving poor Reuben in distress and +despair. + +Reuben sat up the livelong night. The light dawned after the brief +interval of darkness, very brief in June, the sun came out, the cries +and bustle in the streets gradually set in, and London had begun +another day. At six o'clock Reuben lay down on his bed for an hour, +and then got himself a bit of breakfast--which he could not eat. His +master did not come. + +Fearing he knew not what, and attaching more importance, in his vague +uneasiness, to Robert's having stayed out than he might have done at +another time, at nine o'clock Reuben betook himself to Mr. Piggott's. +That gentleman did not live in very fashionable lodgings, and his +address was usually given at his club, not there. Reuben, however, +knew it. Some time before, Reuben had gone on a fishing tour, to catch +what information he could as to the private concerns of Mr. Piggott +and Colonel Haughton, and had found out where each lived. + +The slipshod servant who came to the door could say nothing as to +whether Mr. Dalrymple was staying the night there; all she knew was, +that Mr. Piggott "warn't up yet." Reuben inquired as to the locality +of Mr. Piggott's chamber, went up to it without opposition, and +knocked at the door; a sharp, loud knock. + +"Who's there?" + +Another knock, sharper still. + +"Come in." + +Reuben walked in at once. "Sir," was his unceremonious address, "do +you know anything of my master?" + +"I!" cried Mr. Piggott, when he had recovered his surprise, and +speaking from the midst of his bedclothes. "I do not. Why?" + +"I thought you might know, sir, as you took him out last night. He +said he was going to play with you and Colonel Haughton. He has not +returned home, which I think very strange; and, as there is some +important business waiting for him, I want to find him." + +Reuben spoke out freely. But the "important business" was only an +invention. He did not care to betray how uneasy he was, yet wanted an +excuse for inquiring. Poor man! the fate of his early master lay +ominously on his mind. + +"He left us last night between twelve and one o'clock; to go home, as +I suppose," said Mr. Piggott, somewhat taken aback. + +"Between twelve and one, sir?" + +"Close upon one it may have been; it had not struck. I know nothing +more." + +"Did he go home with Colonel Haughton?" + +"That I am sure he did not. Colonel Haughton and I walked away +together. I left the colonel at his own door." + +"Away from Jermyn Street, I suppose you mean, sir!" + +"You have no right to suppose anything of the kind," roared Mr. +Piggott, aroused to anger. "What is it to you? Go out, and shut the +door." + +Reuben did as he was bid; there seemed to be no use in staying. He +sought out Colonel Haughton, who (remembering past events) was civil, +and who possibly felt some undefined uneasiness at the disappearance +of Robert. His story was the same as Piggott's--that the young man had +left them a little before one o'clock. + +Trusting these gentlemen just as far as he could see them, and no +farther, or their word either, Reuben went to the gambling-house in +Jermyn Street. After some difficulty--for every impediment seemed put +in the way of any inquiry; and, to judge by appearances, the place +might have been the most innocent in the world--Reuben found a man +attached to the house who knew Mr. Dalrymple. This man happened to be +at the front-door when Mr. Dalrymple went out the previous night; it +wanted about five or ten minutes to one. He watched him walk away. + +"Which way did he go?" asked Reuben. "Towards home--South Audley +Street?" + +"No; the other way. He staggered a bit, as if not quite sober." + +"Through the machinations of the wicked people that have been hunting +him; he never drank but when incited to it by them," spoke Reuben, in +his pain. + +Back he went to South Audley Street, in the hope that his master might +have now reached it. Not so. The day wore on, and he did not come. +Reuben was half distracted. In the evening, he went to various +police-stations, and told his tale--his master, Mr. Robert Dalrymple, +had disappeared. It may, perhaps, seem to you, reader, that all this +was premature; hardly called for; but the faithful old servant's state +of mind must plead his excuse. + +Another night passed. Sunday morning arose, and then tidings came of +Robert and his probable fate. The police had been making inquiries, +and one of them came to Reuben. + +A hat had been found in the Thames, the previous day, floating away +with the tide. Inside it was written "R. Dalrymple." The policeman had +it in his hand; bringing it to Reuben to be owned or disowned. Reuben +recognized it in a moment. It was the one his unfortunate master had +worn on Friday night. How could it have got in the water?--and where, +then, was Robert Dalrymple? + +Little need to speculate. Some bargemen who were in their vessel, +lying close to the side of Westminster Bridge, had disclosed to the +police that about two o'clock on Saturday morning they had heard a +weight drop into the water, seemingly from the bridge--"as if," said +one of them, "a body had throwed hisself right on to the Thames o' +purpose to make a hole in it." + +It was this disastrous news that Reuben had now brought to Mr. Grubb. +That gentleman sat aghast as he listened. The old man, seated opposite +to him, broke down with a burst of anguish as he concluded, the salt +tears raining on his cheeks. + +"Can he have wilfully destroyed himself?" breathed Mr. Grubb. + +"Only too sure, sir," wailed Reuben; "only too sure." + +"And the motive? Embarrassment?" + +"Not a doubt of it, sir: he was quite ruined." + +"If he had only applied to me!--if he had only applied to me!" +bewailed Mr. Grubb, rising from his chair to pace the room in +excitement. "I would have saved and helped him." + +"A dreadful set had got hold of him, poor young man," sobbed Reuben. +"The same gamblers--one of them's the same, at any rate--that got hold +of and ruined his uncle. Doubtless you know that story, sir. On this +last Friday evening that ever was, I told it to Mr. Robert, hoping it +would turn him back. But those wretched men had laid too fast a hold +upon him. One was waiting for him outside in the street then. My +belief is, sir, he _couldn't_ break with them." + +"Had the tale no effect upon him?" + +"Some little it had; not enough. He must go forth to play that night, +he said to me; he had given his word to Piggott to go, and, besides, +he thought the luck would turn and favour him; but once the night was +over, he would know that Haughton and the rest of the set no more. And +I think he would have kept his word, sir." + +"I suppose luck did not favour him? That shall, if possible, be +ascertained." + +Reuben shook his head. "No need to doubt, sir. The worst is--the worst +is--I hardly like to say it." + +"Can anything be worse, Reuben, than what you have told me?" was Mr. +Grubb's sad rejoinder, as he took his seat again. + +"Ay, but I meant as to his means, sir; his losses. He was quite +cleared out; he told me that; everything, including Moat Grange, so +far as his life interest in it went, was staked and gone. But that +last night"--Reuben's voice dropped to a dread whisper--"he took out +with him what was not his to stake. And, no doubt, lost it." + +"What was it?" questioned Mr. Grubb, in the same hushed tone, feeling +rather at sea, yet afraid of he knew not what. + +"It was a cheque that had come up that morning from Netherleigh. +Farmer Lee wanted some money invested in some particular security, and +he got my master to undertake to do it for him, to save himself the +journey up. Mr. Robert had told me all about it--he mostly did tell me +things. Ah, sir, his disposition was open and generous as the day." + +"And the money came?" + +"The cheque came, sir. It was for five hundred pounds. Piggott called +that Friday afternoon and scented the cheque; saw it, most likely. He +took Mr. Robert out to dinner, and plied him with wine, and between +ten and eleven he brought him back again, staying outside while my +master came in--come in for the cheque. It was then I tried to pull +him up by telling him about his uncle Claude--how the man Haughton had +lured Mr. Claude to his destruction, just as he was now luring Mr. +Robert. He said he would have no more to do with Haughton after that +night; but he went out to Piggott with the cheque in his pocket, and +they walked away together arm-in-arm." + +Mr. Grubb took out his pocketbook, and made a note in pencil. He +would get that cheque back from the gamblers, if possible. At any +rate, he would have a good try for it. + +Reuben had not much more to tell. Mr. Grubb put on his hat and went +with him to see the police inspector who had the case in hand. It was +a terrible blow: terrible in all ways: Francis Grubb was feeling it to +be so--and what then would it be to his sister Mary? + +The inspector pointed out to Mr. Grubb that, in spite of the finding +of the hat in the Thames, which hat was, beyond all doubt, Mr. +Dalrymple's, it did not follow that Mr. Dalrymple was himself in the +Thames; and the splash heard by the men in the barge might have been +made by any one else. There was no proof, he urged, that Mr. Dalrymple +had been on Westminster Bridge, or near it. And all this seemed so +reasonable that Mr. Grubb felt his heart's weight somewhat lightened. + +But, ere the Sunday afternoon closed in, testimony on this point was +forthcoming, and rather singularly. It chanced that a young man, named +Horn, who was an assistant to Robert Dalrymple's tailor, and had often +measured Robert for clothes, was spending the Friday with some friends +at South Lambeth. Horn, a very respectable and steady man, had stayed +late, for it was a wedding feast, beyond the time of omnibuses, and +had to walk home to his lodgings near Leicester Square. In passing +over Westminster Bridge, it was then close upon two o'clock, he saw +some one mounted on the top, leaning right over the parapet, hanging +over it, as if he had a mind to fling himself into the water. Horn, +startled at the sight, ran up, and pulled the man back; and then, to +his unbounded astonishment, he found it was Mr. Dalrymple. + +"I beg your pardon, sir," he said in apology. "I had no idea it was +you." + +"Good-night, Horn," replied Robert. + +"Good-night, sir," returned Horn; and walked on. + +But Horn felt uneasy; especially so at the remembrance of Mr. +Dalrymple's face, for it looked full of trouble; and he turned back +again. Robert was then standing with his arms folded, apparently +looking down quietly on the water. + +"Can I do anything for you, sir?" he asked. "Nothing has happened, I +hope?" + +"Oh, nothing at all," replied Robert. "I don't want anything done; +thank you all the same, Horn. The night is warm, and I am enjoying the +air: one gets it here, if anywhere. Good-night." + +Joseph Horn wished him good-night again and walked finally away. On +this day, Sunday, chancing to hear that Mr. Dalrymple was missing--for +inquiries were now being made extensively--he came forward and related +this. + +It was just the one link that had been wanting. Poor Robert Dalrymple, +utterly ruined, soon now to be pointed at as a felon, had found his +trouble greater than he could bear, and had put an end to it. Of that +there could exist no reasonable doubt. The melancholy tale speedily +fled over London--how quickly such news does fly! Robert Dalrymple had +drowned himself--another victim to Play. + +"It runs in the family," quoth some careless people who remembered the +former catastrophe. "Like uncle, like nephew! The name of Dalrymple +must be a fated one." + +"I would at least have used a pistol, and gone out of the world like a +gentleman," was the bad remark of that bad man, Colonel Haughton, as +he stood on the Sunday night--yes, the Sunday night--and listened to +the news in that place with the hot name. + +But the colonel changed his tone the following day, when Francis +Grubb, the great East India merchant, whom all men, high and low, +looked up to and respected, stood before him, and quietly informed him +he must give up a certain cheque belonging to Mr. Lee of Netherleigh, +or its value if it had been cashed; give it up, or submit to appear +before a magistrate, and run the gauntlet of public exposure. After +putting himself to a great deal of trouble, in the way of +remonstrance, excuse, and grumbling, to which Mr. Grubb made no sort +of reply, as he calmly waited the result, the colonel returned the +cheque--which had not been cashed. Possibly the disappearance of +Robert Dalrymple had put him and Mr. Piggott on their guard. + +Meanwhile the Grange remained in ignorance of what was passing; but +the terrible tidings would soon have to be carried thither. + +When Mrs. Dalrymple returned home on Friday evening from dining at +Court Netherleigh, she did not say much to Oscar about her son; but on +the following morning, after breakfast, Oscar having slept at the +Grange, she questioned him. Without making exactly the worst of it, +Oscar disclosed the truth--that is, that Robert was undoubtedly +falling into trouble through his gambling habits. He deemed it lay in +his duty to tell this; and Mrs. Dalrymple, as the reader must +remember, had been already warned by Reuben's letter. That letter had +been a great shock to her; she knew how fatal the vice had already +proved in the family. + +It was a lovely midsummer morning, and she and Selina were sitting on +the bench under the great elm-tree. The bees were humming, the +butterflies sporting, the birds singing around them. The grass was +green at foot; overhead, the blue sky could be seen through the +branches of the flickering trees. Oscar leaned against the trunk of an +opposite tree as he talked to them. + +"What can be done?--what can be done?" exclaimed Mrs. Dalrymple, +clasping her hands in distress. "Oscar, you ought to have brought him +down with you." + +"He positively refused to come. I might as well have tried to bring a +mountain. Something ought to be done, and must be done," added Oscar; +"you are quite right in saying that. The question is--what is it that +can be?" + +"The root of the evil lies in his having gone to London," said Mrs. +Dalrymple. "He ought to have taken up his own proper station here, and +ourselves have found a house elsewhere. But, in his chivalrous +affection for me, Robert would listen to no remonstrance; some implied +promise to his father, when he was on his death-bed, I believe, swayed +him. Robert was always so good-hearted--and so impulsive. He--here is +Alice," she broke off, in lowered tones. + +Alice, with her sweet face, her slight figure, and her quite +perceptible limp, came across the grass. "May I not be admitted to the +conference?" she asked pleadingly. "I know you are talking of Robert." + +"Oh, my dear, it is nothing that you need trouble yourself about," +said her mother, soothingly. "Go back to your tatting." + +"I have my tatting with me. Mamma--Oscar--do you not see that it will +be _well_ for me to hear what there is to hear. I know something is +wrong about Robert; I could not sleep all last night, no, nor the +night before, for dwelling on it. Whatever there is to hear, it cannot +make me more anxious than I am--and it would end this suspense." + +"Well, well, sit down," said Mrs. Dalrymple, giving way. "I hardly +know myself how much or how little of evil there is to hear, Alice." +And she went on to speak without reservation: "Robert had fallen into +gambling habits; and there was no telling how deeply. All his own +means were undoubtedly gone. Of course things must get worse night by +night," she concluded. "Any night he may stake the Grange." + +"Stake the Grange!" echoed Alice. "Mamma, what do you mean?" + +"Stake it and lose it," confirmed Oscar. "When the mania for play sets +in on a man, he is not content to confine his ventures to trifles." + +"But I do not understand," returned Alice. "How could he stake the +Grange? It is in the Dalrymple family, and cannot go out of it?" + +"He might stake its value. Mortgage it, that is, for his own life." + +"And could we not remain in it?" she quickly asked. + +"Scarcely. It might take every shilling of its incomings to pay off +the interest. You could not remain here upon nothing." + +"Would it be sacrificed; useless to us for so long as Robert lived?" +questioned Selina, not quite comprehending. + +Oscar nodded. "I am only saying that he might do it: I do not say he +will. He might so hamper himself, so involve the estate, that he could +never derive further benefit from it. Or his family either, so long as +he lived." + +"Does it return to us at Robert's death? I wish to goodness he would +be more careful of himself," added Selina, in her quick way. "Sitting +up till daylight, night after night, cannot be good for him." + +"It--would return into the family," spoke Oscar, hesitatingly. + +Alice Dalrymple looked up from a reverie. A contingency had occurred +to her which she had never thought of before: so entirely had the +Grange been theirs in their father's recent lifetime, and in the +certainty of its descending to Robert afterwards. "Suppose anything +were to happen to Robert," she said, "whose would the Grange be? +Mamma's?" + +No one answered her. + +"Oscar, I ask you, would it go to mamma?" + +"No." + +"To whom, then?" + +"My dear," interposed Mrs. Dalrymple, "it would be Oscar's. It goes in +the male line." + +The answer took both the young ladies by surprise. They were really +very ignorant of these matters. Each of them stole a glance at Oscar: +a red, conscious light had flown into his usually pale cheek. + +"I never knew it," breathed Selina. + +"And it is of little import your knowing it now," gently spoke Oscar. +"I am as likely to come into the Grange as I am of being made prime +minister. Robert is a younger man than I am." + +"Poor Robert!" lamented Alice. "He has been left to himself up in that +great wicked town, he has had no one to turn to for advice or counsel, +and I dare say he has only done what he has done from thoughtlessness. +A word from mamma may set him right. Mamma, do you not think you ought +to go to him?" + +"Yes, Alice. It is what I have been resolving to do, now, as you were +talking. And you must stay here over tomorrow, and go with me, Oscar. +We will start by the nine-o'clock train on Monday morning." + +"So be it," acquiesced Oscar. "It is the only thing. He may listen to +you." + +So Oscar Dalrymple stayed with them at the Grange until the Monday, +revelling in the society of the one only being he loved on +earth--Selina. + +Mrs. Dalrymple had made ready for the journey--and how fervent, how +imploringly earnest her prayers were that it might bear happy fruit, +she and Heaven alone know. They all sat down to an early breakfast: +even Alice, whose lameness was an apology for not rising betimes in +general. In the midst of breakfast, James came in, and looked at Oscar +Dalrymple. + +"Will you please to step here, sir, for a minute?" + +"What for?" + +"Just for a minute, sir," repeated the man; and his eyes seemed to +telegraph a momentary entreaty with the words. + +Oscar went out hurriedly, for there was no time to spare, and the +carriage to take them to the station had already come round. James +shut the door. + +"Here's Reuben come down, sir, by the early train," he whispered. "He +told me to fetch you out to him, quietly, but not to say who it was." + +Oscar walked quickly across the hall. Reuben awaited him in an empty +room. + +"What is it, Reuben? What has brought you from town?" + +The old servant trembled with agitation, and grasped hold of the back +of a chair. "Oh, Mr. Oscar, it is all over. My poor young master is +gone." + +Oscar sat down, seemingly unconscious what he did, and the red light +came again into his cheeks. + +"The very night after you left London, sir, those men drew him out +again. Before he went, I spoke to him, trying to stop him, and he told +me he was ruined and worse than ruined. He never came back. He has +just followed in the steps of Mr. Claude Dalrymple, and has met with +the same fate." + +"Surely he has not destroyed himself?" breathed Oscar. + +"He has; he has." + +"But how? In what manner?" + +"By drowning, sir. He jumped over Westminster Bridge right into the +water during that same night. About two o'clock, they say. Oh, what +distraction his poor mind must have been in, to urge him to such a +death as that!" + +Oscar rose and looked from the window. Cold as was his nature, the +news could not fail to shock him--although he was the inheritor of the +Grange. + +"Has he been found?" he presently asked. + +"No. Perhaps never will be. The officers say that not half the bodies +that get into the Thames ever see the light again. But his fate is as +sure and certain, sir, as though he had been found, and the drags are +yet at work. Mr. Oscar, I'd rather it was my own death that had to be +told of than his," added Reuben, breaking into sobs. + +"It is sad indeed," cried Oscar, feeling, truth to say, terribly cut +up. "I and Mrs. Dalrymple were on the point of starting for London. It +is no use to go now. At least she must not." + +"His hat was found in the Thames," said poor Reuben, regaining some +composure; "and, curious to say, one Joseph Horn, a young man, +who----" + +"Oscar," called out the voice of Mrs. Dalrymple, "where are you? We +have not any more time to spare." + +"How shall I break it to them?" wailed Oscar to himself, knowing that +it must be done, and without delay. "It is a terrible mission. Reuben, +don't show yourself for a minute." + +He walked across the hall, now his own, and re-entered the +breakfast-room. He proceeded with his task as well as he could, and +got through it, not telling them the worst, only that some accident +had happened to Robert. By intuition however, they seemed to seize on +the truth--that he was dead. Oscar felt almost thankful that Alice +fainted and fell to the floor, because it caused some diversion to +Mrs. Dalrymple's death-like shock. + +And, ere the midday sun was at its height, the estate was ringing +with the news that its generous young landlord had passed away, with +his faults and follies, and that Oscar Dalrymple would reign at the +Grange. + + + + +CHAPTER X. +A COSTLY MANIA. + + +The residence of Mrs. Lynn at Blackheath was a substantial, +old-fashioned, roomy house on the heath, standing alone within a high +wall surrounded by trees. And to this house, on the Monday morning, +went her son, Francis Grubb, carrying with him his burden of ill news. +The same fatal news which the old-serving man, Reuben, had already +taken to Moat Grange. + +In the morning-room sat Mary Lynn, glancing over a short letter she +had just written. She started up in what looked like alarm when her +brother entered. + +"Oh, Francis!" she exclaimed, a hectic colour flushing her face, "what +have you come today for--now? Is it to bring me ill news?" + +"Why do you imagine that?" he asked, rather struck with her words--and +her looks. "Can't a business man come out to pay a morning visit, +Mary, without bringing ill news with him? My wife and the baby are +going on well, if you are thinking of them." + +He spoke in a half-jesting tone, making light of it at first. It was +not usual with him to leave the City at this early hour. Mary glanced +at the open letter on the table. She wore a cool muslin dress of a +pinkish colour, and was looking altogether fresh and fair and +pure--but sad. + +"How is mamma?" he asked. + +"Not at all well; she is keeping her room today," said Mary. Mr. +Grubb, standing so near, could not fail to see that the letter was +written to Robert Dalrymple. The reader may like to see its contents. + + +"My DEAR ROBERT, + +"Considering that you and I ceased to correspond some years ago, +you will be surprised at my writing to you. I have no doubt all +proper-minded old ladies, including my mother, would shake their heads +at me. Will you just drop me one line in answer, to say how you are, +and how the world is using you, and please let it be by return of +post. I have a reason for asking this. Pardon the trouble; and believe +me ever affectionately yours, + +"MARY ISABEL LYNN." + + +"_Have_ you brought me ill news, Francis?" she repeated. "About Robert +Dalrymple?" + +Her brother looked at her. "Again I ask you, Mary, why you should put +the question?" + +"I will tell you," she said: "at the risk of your laughing at me, +Francis; and that I know you will do. I have had a dream about Robert, +and it has made me uneasy." + +"A dream!" he repeated in surprise. But he did not laugh. + +"It was last Friday night," she went on. "I came home from your house +rather tired, and--and troubled; troubled about Robert. I had seen +that he was in great trouble himself; in fact, he told me so; but he +would not tell me its nature. The world was using him hardly--that was +the most explicit admission he made. I could not get to sleep at first +for thinking of him; not before one o'clock, I dare say; and then I +had a terrible dream." + +"You should not think of dreams, child," put in her brother. "But go +on." + +"I thought we were in some gloomy room, Robert and I. At the end of it +was a small door, closed, with an opening at the top protected by iron +spikes. Beyond that narrow opening nothing could be seen, for it was +dark. Robert stood near this door, facing it in silence, as if waiting +for it to open, and I stood some yards behind him, waiting also. Some +trouble seemed to lie upon both of us, some apprehension, but I know +not what; something that could not be spoken of: it filled my heart to +sickness. Suddenly the door began slowly to open; and, as the intense +darkness beyond began to disclose itself more and more--a black, inky +darkness that seemed to reign in illimitable space--a most frightful +terror took possession of me, a terror more awful than can ever be +experienced in life. Robert turned and looked at me in token of +farewell, still in silence--and oh, Francis, I shall never forget the +despairing misery depicted on his face. He turned it away again, and +took a step towards the door, now quite open. I rushed forward with a +scream and caught his arm on its threshold. 'No, no, you shall not go +out there!' I cried: 'stay, and pray for deliverance.' This awoke me; +awoke me to the same vivid terror I had felt in the dream," concluded +Miss Lynn; "and just afterwards the clock struck two." + +"Two?" + +"Two. I lay in the most extreme agitation for the rest of the night; +instinct whispering me that some evil had befallen Robert. With the +morning the feeling in some degree passed away, and the occupations of +the day served still more to deaden it: several visitors called on +Saturday. Nevertheless, the dream has haunted me over since like a +nightmare. Not a word of the sermon yesterday morning could I take in. +When mamma asked me what the text was when I got home from church, I +was obliged to say I could not remember it. So, this morning, I +thought I would write a line to Robert, asking if things are well with +him--for anxiety and suspense yet cling to me." + +Her voice ceased. Mr. Grubb made no comment. + +"Has any ill happened to Robert?" she continued her face raised +wistfully. "Have you come to tell it me?" + +Oh, it was a hard task, this, that was imposed upon him. Far harder +than the one that had fallen to Oscar Dalrymple at Moat Grange in +Berkshire. For the natures of the two men were essentially different: +the one stoically calm; the other warm, generous, loving. Francis +Grubb took his sister gently by the hand. + +"Let us go into the open air, Mary; to the quiet shrubbery. What I +have to tell you, I will tell you there." + + +It was a most terrible thing to have come to pass. Better that the +ill-fated Robert Dalrymple, when in the very act of self-destruction, +had arrested himself, and prayed to God for deliverance as Mary Lynn +seemed to have implored him to do in her dream. + +And if any latent doubt lingered in the minds of fond relatives, this +was to be extinguished. Some three weeks after the fatal night he was +found in the water near Mill-wall: quite unrecognizable in himself, +but identified by his clothes. The jury brought in a more merciful +verdict than was passed on his uncle before him--"Temporary insanity;" +and he was buried in the nearest churchyard. + +As to his creditors, they were not paid. There was nothing to pay them +with. With the exception, however, of his gambling debts, it turned +out that Robert did not owe much. Mr. Grubb had got back Farmer Lee's +five-hundred-pound cheque--and Mr. Grubb, Reuben, and Oscar, to whom +it was alone known, kept that matter secret from the farmer and from +the world. + +Oscar Dalrymple had come into the Grange, and would take possession of +it as soon as Mrs. Dalrymple could, at her convenience, move out. +Oscar, cold and calculating though he was, could but come forward to +Mrs. Dalrymple's rescue. It fell to him to keep her and her daughters +now. He spoke to her in a kindly, generous tone, letting nothing +appear of the inward wincing he possibly may have felt. She had +absolutely no resource in the world, save Oscar. They had a distant +relative indeed, one Benjamin Dalrymple, living in the West of +England; a crusty old man, who was reported to be very rich, and had +made his money at cotton-spinning; but this old man had created quite +a deadly feud between himself and all the Dalrymple family; and Mrs. +Dalrymple would starve rather than apply to him. Better be under an +obligation to Oscar than to him: though she did not over-well like +that. Oscar proposed (perhaps he felt he could do no less) that she +and her daughters should still make the Grange their home; but Mrs. +Dalrymple declined. A pretty little house on the estate, called Lawn +Cottage, was assigned to her use, rent free; and two hundred pounds +per annum. Oscar remonstrated against the smallness of the pittance, +but she absolutely refused to accept more. With her poultry and fruit +and vegetables, and the milk from her one cow, Mrs. Dalrymple assured +him she did not see how she could spend even that. So she and her +daughters removed to Lawn Cottage, and Oscar entered upon his reign at +the Grange. + + +A year had gone by. London was in a commotion: nothing was talked of +in its gay circles but the young and lovely bride, Mrs. Dalrymple. +Peers were going mad for her smiles; peeresses condescended to court +them. Panics do sometimes come over the fashionable world of this +great metropolis: now it is a rage for speculation, like that railway +mania which once turned people's sober senses upside down; now it is +the new and very ugly signora who is ruling the boards and the boxes +at Her Majesty's Theatre; now it is an insane sympathy--insane in the +working--with all the black Uncle and Aunt Toms in the western +hemisphere; but at the time of which we are writing, it was the +admiration of one of themselves, a woman, the beautiful Mrs. +Dalrymple. + +She was charming; not because fashion said it, but that she really was +so. Naturally fascinating, the homage she received in the gay world--a +new world to her--rendered her manners irresistibly so. Some good +wives, staid and plain, who had never been guilty of courting a look +in their lives, and prided themselves on it, avowed privately to their +lords that she laid herself out for admiration, and was a compound of +vanity and danger; and the lords nodded a grave approval, and the +moment they could get out of sight, went running in the wake of Mrs. +Dalrymple. + +A stylish vehicle, much favoured in those days by young fellows with +little brains and less prudence, something between a brake and a +dandy-horse, with two stylish men in it, especially in the extent of +their moustaches, was driving down Regent Street. He who held the +reins, Captain Stanley, was attending to some object at a distance +rather than to his horse: his head was raised, his eyes were intently +fixed far before him. A cab whirled suddenly round the corner of +Argyle Place: Captain Stanley was too much absorbed to avoid it, and +the two vehicles came into contact with each other. + +No damage was done. All that came of it was a wordy war: for the +cabman's abuse was unlimited, and Captain Stanley retorted in angry +explosion. + +"Is that the way you generally drive in London?" quietly asked his +companion, as they went on again. + +"An insolent reptile! he shall smart for it. I'll have him before the +magistrate at Marlborough Street." + +"Don't call me as a witness, then. It was your fault. You got into the +fellow's way." + +"I didn't get into his way." + +"At any rate, you didn't get out of it, which amounts to the same +thing. I ask if that is your usual mode of driving?" + +"What if it is?" + +"It is a careless one. The next time you offer me a seat, Stanley, I +shall propose to take the reins." + +"I thought I saw her carriage before us," explained Captain Stanley, +in a more conciliatory tone, as he began to recover his good-humour. +"It made me blind to everything else, Winchester." + +"Who is 'her'?" demanded Lord Winchester, who had just returned from a +prolonged sojourn on the Continent. + +"The loveliest woman, Winchester. I can tell you you have a treat in +store: you will say it when you get introduced to her. I couldn't +exist," added the captain, twirling his moustache, "without a daily +sight of that angel." + +The viscount smiled. He knew, of old, Captain Stanley's propensity for +going into heroics over "angels:" he did so himself upon occasion. +"Mrs. Stanley to be?" asked he, indifferently, by way of saying +something. + +"No such luck. She's married. And so am I." + +"Pardon, Stanley; I forgot it. When a fellow marries over in India, +the fact is apt to slip out of one's memory." + +"By Jove here she comes! She has turned back again. The green carriage +and dark livery. I knew I saw it. Isn't she----" + +"Take care of your horse," interrupted Lord Winchester; "here's +another cab." + +"Hang the cabs! Look at her." + +An open barouche was approaching. One lady sat within it. Lord +Winchester caught sight of an exquisite toilette, and then, the +point-lace parasol being slightly moved, of an exquisite face. A young +face, looking younger, perhaps, than it really was; clearly cut, +delicate features; cheeks of a rich damask, brown glossy hair, and +soft dark eyes of wonderful brightness. + +"There's a picture for you!" murmured the enamoured Captain Stanley, +letting his horse go as it would. "And the face is nothing to her +fascination, when you come to talk to her. She has sent half London +wild." + +Off went his hat, for the bright eyes were smiling, and the fair head +bowing to him. But off went Lord Winchester's also: for a brighter +smile and a more familiar recognition, though one of surprise, greeted +him. + +"Halloa, Winchester! I say, that's too bad!" cried Captain Stanley, +when they had passed. "You know her?" + +"Knew her before I knew you. She's Selina Dalrymple." + +"Selina? yes, that is her Christian name; I saw it one day on her +handkerchief. Where was the use of your making a mystery over it? Why +couldn't you say that you knew her?" + +"I made no mystery, my good fellow. I did not know it was Selina +Dalrymple you were speaking of. I used to meet her years ago at Court +Netherleigh. Whom has she married? What's her name?" + +"What is the matter with you?" cried Captain Stanley, looking at the +viscount. "You call her Selina Dalrymple, and then ask what her name +is. Do you suppose she bears one name, and her husband another?" + +"She has never married Oscar Dalrymple!" exclaimed Lord Winchester, in +lively tones. "Has she?" + +"Her husband is the only Dalrymple I know of in the land of the +living. A cold, dry, wizen-faced man." + +"So he, Master Oscar! it is better to be born lucky than rich. Moat +Grange and its fairest flower! You did not bargain for that, once upon +a time. Poor Robert Dalrymple! he was nobody's enemy but his own." + +"You mean her brother. He went out of the world ungenteelly, I +believe, as Miss Bailey's ghost says. I did not know him." + +"The Oscar Dalrymples are up in town for the season, I suppose?" + +"Ay. They have taken part of a small house in Berkeley Street--not +being rich." + +"Anything but that, I should fancy." + +"It is said that he did not want to come to town; hates it. Only, her +heart was set upon it, and he can't deny her anything." + +"Oh, that's it, is it," returned Lord Winchester. + +That was it. Selina Dalrymple, the bride of a month or two, had made +Oscar promise that they should spend part of the season in town. Vain, +giddy, and thoughtless, Selina's heart was revelling in the pleasures +of this London life, her head turned with the admiration she received. +Alas! she had all too speedily forgotten the tragical end of her +once-loved brother, though it came but a year ago. Amidst all this +whirl of gaiety there was no time to remember _that_. + +Mrs. Dalrymple's carriage had continued its course. It was now on its +way to her dressmaker's, Madame Damereau. Dead now, and the once large +business dispersed, Madame Damereau, a Frenchwoman, was famous in that +gone-by day. An enormous custom--clientèle she used to call it--had +she. Her house was handsome, and, so far as its appearance went, +strictly private. It was in a private street, amidst other handsome +houses, and there was nothing to betray its business except the +brass-plate on the wide mahogany door--"Madame Damereau." It was as +handsome inside as out; its rooms were a mixture of Parisian taste and +English comfort, with their velvet carpets, rich crimson furniture, +brilliant mirrors, and ornamental objects of porcelain, all delicate +landscape painting and burnished gold. Surely, rooms so elaborately +fitted up were not needed to carry on the business of a milliner and +dressmaker, great though that business was! Needed or not, there they +were. Madame Damereau had taste, and liked them. There was a hall and +a reception-room; and a painted glass-door at the end of a passage, as +the clientèle turned to ascend a handsome staircase that led to the +show-rooms; through which glass-door might be caught glimpses of a +paved court with green shrubs and plants. Above the stairs came an +anteroom, and a trying-on room--and I know not how much more. Madame +Damereau was as fascinating, in her line, as Mrs. Dalrymple in hers. +Ask the ladies who were for ever paying her visits, and they would +tell you that, once within reach of the fascinations of herself and +her show-rooms, there they were contentedly fixed; there was no +getting away, and there was no trying to get away. Madame's expenses +were very great, and she had feathered her nest pretty well: somebody +paid for it. When madame's nest should be sufficiently well +feathered--or what she would consider so--it was her intention to +return to La Belle France--pays chéri!--and quit England and its +natives--les barbares!--for ever. Every thought of madame had +reference to this enchanting finale: not a dress did she make, a +bonnet sell, a mantle improvise, but the charges for them (very high +generally) were elaborated with this one desirable end in view. Apart +from this propensity to gain, madame was not bad at heart. Very good, +in fact; and many a little kindness did she enact in private, +especially to her poor countrymen and women domiciled here. What +though she did stick on ruinous prices for those who could pay?--a +person must live. Que voulez-vous? + +There had been a Monsieur Damereau once upon a time. He had something +to do with the theatres, though not in the way of acting. But he grew +too fond of English porter and of fingering madame's profits. Madame +inveigled him into a journey to Paris with her; let him have his fling +a little while, and one fatal morning the poor deluded man woke to +find that he and his wife were two; she had obtained a separation from +him "de corps et de biens." Madame returned to England the same day, +and what became of him she neither knew nor cared; except that he +regularly drew the annuity she allowed to him, and which was to cease +if he ever reset his foot in the British Isles. + +At the period of which we are writing, a great mania had seized upon +the gay London world. That other mania, admiration for Oscar +Dalrymple's wife, which chiefly concerned the men, was but a small and +private one; this was public and universal, and pertained to the +women. It was a love for dress. A wild, rampant love for extravagant +dress, not to be controlled within any limit. No fever yet known was +like unto it; and Madame Damereau blessed it heartily, and petted it, +and nursed it, and prayed--good Catholic that she was!--that it might +never abate. We who have come to a certain age (than which nothing was +ever more uncertain) can remember this, and the commotion it wrought. +It was not the ordinary passion for finery that obtains in the beau +monde, more or less, at all times, that is prevailing now, but +something worse--different. In truth it was a very madness; and it +ruined thousands. Few had fallen into this insidious snare as +completely as Mrs. Oscar Dalrymple. Bred up in the country, in +simplicity and comparative seclusion, London and its attractions had +burst upon her with irresistible power, dazzling her judgment, and +taking captive her senses. The passion for dress had been born with +Selina. No wonder, therefore--example is so contagious, rivalry so +rife in the human heart--that it had, with its means of gratification, +seized frantic hold of her; just as another passion had formerly +seized upon and destroyed her unfortunate brother. Not caring +particularly for her husband, the world's homage had become as second +life to her vain (and somewhat empty) mind; and of course she must +dress accordingly and go out at all times and seasons armed for +conquest. At breakfast gatherings; in afternoon visits; at teas, I was +going to say, but kettledrums had not then come into vogue; in the +parks, at dinners, at the play, and in the ball-room, she would be +conspicuous for the freshness and beauty of her toilette. + +Does the reader remember a remark made by Miss Upton, of Court +Netherleigh? "Selina Dalrymple is more fond of dress than a +Frenchwoman. Want of sense and love of finery often go together." + +Poor Oscar Dalrymple, knowing nothing of the mysteries of a lady's +toilette, or its cost, was content to admire his wife's as did other +men. And, it may be, that no thought ever intruded itself into +Selina's mind of the day of reckoning that must inevitably come. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. +WITH MADAME DAMEREAU. + + +Mrs. Oscar Dalrymple's carriage stopped at the door of Madame +Damereau. Other carriages, waiting for their ladies, drew aside for +it, and Mrs. Dalrymple descended. Rather tall, very elegant, her +dress, a delicate lilac silk, flounced to the waist, became her well, +and her rich white lace mantle became that. The Damereau footman threw +open the door for her, and she went up to the show-room. A lady in +plain black silk, but than which nothing could be more rich of its +kind, with a small cap on her head of costly lace, and lappets of the +same, disengaged herself from a group, to whom she was talking, and +came forward, bowing; such bows as only a Frenchwoman can achieve. It +was Madame Damereau. A clever-looking woman, with a fair skin, and +broad smooth forehead. + +What could she have the honour of doing today for Madame Dalreemp? + +Mrs. Dalrymple scarcely knew. If put upon her conscience, she perhaps +could not have said she wanted much. She would walk round first, and +see. Was there anything fresh? + +The Frenchwoman put the tip of one of her white fingers (very white +they were, and displayed some valuable rings) upon the glove of her +visitor, and then passed carelessly through the door to the next room. +Madame Damereau certainly favoured Selina, who bought so largely of +her, and never grumbled at the price. Selina understood the movement, +and, stopping to look at a displayed article or two in her way, as +carelessly followed her. That was madame's pet way when she was bent +upon doing a good stroke of business. + +"Tenez--pardon, madame," quoth she, as soon as Selina joined her, and +speaking in scraps of French and English, as was her custom: though +she spoke both languages almost equally well, barring her accent of +ours--which was more than could be said for the clientèle, taking them +collectively, and hence, perhaps, the origin of her having acquired +the habit--"I have got the rarest caisse of articles arrived from +Paris this morning. Ah! qu'ils sont ravissants!" + +"What are they?" cried Selina, with breathless interest. + +"I have not shown them to anybody: I have kept them en cachette. I +said to my assistants, 'You put that up, and don't let it be seen till +Madame Dalreemp comes.' Il-y-a une robe--une robe--une robe!" +impressively repeated madame, turning up the whites of her eyes--"ma +chère dame, it could only have been made for you!" + +Selina's eyes sparkled. She thought herself the especial protégée of +the Damereau establishment--as many another vain woman had thought +before, and would think again. + +"Is it silk?" she inquired. + +"No. Dentelle. Mais, quelle dentelle! Elle----" + +"Madame," said one of the assistants, putting in her head and speaking +in a low tone, "the countess wishes to see you before she leaves." + +"I am with her ladyship in the moment. Madame Dalreemp, if you are not +too hurried, if you can wait till some of these ladies are gone, the +caisse shall be brought out. I will not show it while they are here; I +want you to have first view." + +"I am in no hurry," replied Mrs. Dalrymple. "I have not been here for +two days, so shall give myself time to look round." + +As Selina did, and to gossip also. Several of her acquaintances were +present. Lady Adela Grubb for one. Adela was looking a little worn and +weary. A discontented expression sat on her face, not satisfactory to +see, and she evidently did not take the enraptured interest in those +fine articles, displayed around, that Selina took. Of course they were +all "superbes" and "ravissant," as madame was given to observe: still +a show-room, even such a one as this, tempting though it undoubtedly +is, does not bear for every one quite the fascination of the basilisk. + +Amidst other ladies who came in was Selina's old neighbour in the +country, Mrs. Cleveland, the Rector's wife. Selina was surprised. + +"I am only up for a day or two, my dear," she said. "I shall call in +Berkeley Street before I go back." + +"And how is mamma?" + +"She is pretty well, my dear, and Alice too. Mary Lynn is staying with +them." + +"Oh is she? You never told me that," added Selina, turning to Lady +Adela. + +Lady Adela's mouth took rather a scornful curve. "Do you suppose Miss +Lynn's movements concern me, that I should hear of them? When did you +see Aunt Margery last, Mrs. Cleveland?" + +"At church on Sunday." + +"How beautiful!" exclaimed Selina, as they were slowly walking round +the room, to look at the displayed wares: some on stands ranged +against the walls, some on a large centre table. The ladies moved from +one sight to another with enraptured gaze. + +"What is beautiful?" asked Mrs. Cleveland. "That mantle?" + +"Which mantle? That old dowdy black silk thing! I meant these sleeves. +See; there's a collar to match." + +"Yes, ma'am," interrupted one of the assistants, "we never had +anything more beautiful in the house." + +"What are they?" inquired Selina. + +The young woman, attired in black silk only a degree less rich than +madame's and a gold chain, her hair arranged in the newest fashion, +carried the sleeves to her mistress. + +"What am I to ask?" she said in a low tone. + +"Twelve guineas." + +"It is for Mrs. Dalrymple." + +"Oh! I thought it was Madame Cliv-land. Fifteen guineas." + +"They are fifteen guineas, madam," said the young person, returning. +"And dirt cheap." + +"I inquired what description of lace it was," said Mrs. Dalrymple. +"Not the price." + +"It is Venice point, madam. Real Venice point." + +"I think I must have them," cried Mrs. Dalrymple. "Are they not +tempting? + +"Not to me," laughed Mrs. Cleveland. "I have too many little pairs of +live arms to provide for, to give that price for a pair of sleeves." + +"Only fifteen guineas!" remonstrated Selina. "And that includes the +collar. I will take these sleeves," she added to the young woman. + +"Thank you, madam." + +"Those are pretty, that muslin pair." + +"Very pretty, madam, for morning. Will you allow me to put these up +with the others?" + +"I don't mind--yes, if you like," replied Selina, never asking the +price. "I saw Lord Winchester just now," she resumed to Mrs. +Cleveland. "I did not know he had returned." + +"Only a day or two since, I believe. My husband does not care to renew +our acquaintance with him, so----" + +"Oh, what a love of a bonnet!" unceremoniously interrupted Mrs. +Dalrymple, as her eye fell on a gossamer article, all white lace and +beauty, with something green sparkling and shining in it. + +"Ah," said madame, coming forward, "ce chapeau me rend triste chaque +fois que je le vois." + +"Pourquoi?" demanded Selina, who was not quite sure of her French, but +liked to plunge into a word of it now and then. In those days, French +was not so universal a language, even in polite circles, as it is in +these. + +"Parce que je ne suis pas dame, jeune et belle. Ainsi je ne peux que +le regarder de loin. Mais madame est l'une et l'autre." + +Selina blushed and smiled, and fixed her eyes on the bonnet. + +"It is a charming bonnet," observed Mrs. Cleveland. "What is the +price?" + +"Thirteen guineas, madam." + +Thirteen guineas! Mrs. Cleveland shook her head. Such bonnets were not +for her. + +"It is a high price," observed Selina. + +"High! Mesdames have surely not regarded it closely. These are +emeralds. Look well, ma chère Madame Dalreemp. Emeralds. It is the +very cheapest bonnet--for its real value--that I have shown this +season." + +"I think I will try it on," cried Selina. + +Madame was not backward to follow the thought. In a twinkling the +bonnet was on Selina's head, and herself at the glass. Twitching the +border and the flowers, twitching her own hair, she at length turned +round with a radiant face, blushing in its conscious beauty, as she +spoke to Mrs. Cleveland. + +"Is it not a sweet bonnet?" + +"If you do not take it, it will be a sin against yourself," interposed +the bonnet's present owner. "You never looked so well in all your +life, Madame Dalreemp. Your face does set off that chapeau +charmingly." + +"I will take it," decided Selina. "What did you say it was? Fifteen +guineas?" + +"Thirteen, madam; only thirteen. Ah! but it is cheap!" + +Mrs. Cleveland bought the mantle Selina had designated as dowdy, and a +bonnet equally so. Selina told her they were frightful; fit for an +almshouse. + +"My dear, they are quiet, and will wear well. I cannot afford more +than one new bonnet in a season. As to a mantle, it generally lasts me +three or four years." + +"Look at this handkerchief," interposed Selina, thinking what a +dreadful fate Mrs. Cleveland's must be. "I really think it matches the +sleeves and collar I have bought. Yes, it does. I must have that." + +"That's a dear handkerchief, I know," cried Mrs. Cleveland. "What is +it, Madame Damereau?" + +"That--oh, but that's recherché, that," said madame, in a rapture. +"Nine guineas. Ah!" + +"Send it home with the other things," said Selina. + +"I am going," said Mrs. Cleveland. "I have bought all I came to buy, +and it is of no use staying here to be tempted, unless one has a long +purse." + +"The truth is, one forgets whether the purse is long or short in the +midst of these enchanting things," observed Selina. + +"I fear it is sometimes the case," was Mrs. Cleveland's reply. "Are +you coming, my dear?" + +"Not yet," answered Selina. + +Lady, Adela went out with Mrs. Cleveland. She had not given a single +order; had not gone with any particular intention of giving one, +unless she saw anything especially to take her fancy. But Madame +Damereau's was regarded as a favourite lounging place, and the gay +world of the gentler sex liked to congregate there. + +"Can I drive you anywhere?" asked Adela of Mrs. Cleveland, as they +stood on the steps of Madame Damereau's handsome entrance-door. "Will +you come home with me?" + +"Thank you, I wish I could," was the answer. "But when I do come to +London I have so many little commissions to execute that my time has +to be almost entirely given to them. I shall hope to call and see you +the next time." + +"I wish you would come and stay with me for a week," cried Adela, +quickly. "It would be a charity--an oasis of pleasure in my lonely +life." + +"Lonely from the want of children," thought Mrs. Cleveland, with a +sad, faint smile. + +"Are you quite well?" asked Adela, quickly, some delicacy in Mrs. +Cleveland's face striking her. + +"I--hope I am," was the hesitating answer. "At least, I hope that +nothing serious is amiss. It is true I have not felt quite right +lately, have suffered much pain; and one of my errands here is to see +a physician. He has made an appointment for tomorrow morning." + +Adela renewed her invitation, wished her good-day, and watched the +rather fragile form away with a wistful look. They never saw each +other again in life. Before two months had run their course, poor Mrs. +Cleveland had gone where pain and suffering are not. + +Meanwhile, when the show-rooms had thinned a little, Madame Damereau +had the "caisse" brought out: that is to say, the contents of it. The +caisse was taken for granted; the articles only appeared. The chief +one, the lace dress, new from Paris, and secluded till that moment +from covetous eyes, was of a species of lace that madame called Point +d'Angleterre. + +Madame shook out its folds with tender solicitude, and displayed its +temptations before Mrs. Dalrymple's enthralled eyes. Madame did not +speak; she let the dress do its own work: her face spoke eloquently +enough. Selina was sitting on one of the low crimson velvet ottomans, +her parasol tracing unconscious figures on the carpet, and her own +elegant silk gown spread out around her. + +"Oh dear!" she ejaculated, withdrawing her enraptured gaze. "But I +fear it is very dear." + +"Never let madame talk about that," said the Frenchwoman. "It is high; +but--look at it. One could not pick up such a dress as that every +day." + +"How I should like to have it!" + +"The moment we took this dress out of the caisse, I said to Miss +Atkinson, who was helping me, 'That must be for Madame Dalreemp: there +is no other lady who could do it justice.' Madame," she quickly added, +as if an idea had just occurred to her, "fancy this robe, fine et +belle, over a delicate pink glacé or a maize!" + +"Or over white," suggested Selina. + +"Or over white--Madame Dalreemp's taste is always correct. It would be +a dress fit for a duchess, too elegant for many of them." + +Some silks of different colours were called for, and the lace robe was +displayed upon them successively. Selina went into ecstasies when the +peach-blossom colour was underneath. + +"I must have it. What is the price?" + +"Just one hundred guineas, neither more nor less: and to anybody but +Madame Dalreemp I should say a hundred and twenty. But I know that +when once she appears in this before the world, I shall have order +upon order. It will be, 'Where did you get that dress, ma chère Madame +Dalreemp?' and madame will answer, 'I got it of Damereau;' and then +they will come flocking to me. Ainsi, ma bonne dame, I can afford to +let you have your things cheap." + +"I don't know what to say," hesitated Selina, taking in, nevertheless, +all the flattery. "A hundred guineas; it is a great deal: and what a +bill I shall have! that lace dress I bought three weeks ago was only +sixty." + +"What was that lace robe compared with this?" was madame's indignant +rejoinder. "That was nothing but common guipure. Look at what the +effect of this will be! Ah, madame, if you do not take it I shall not +sleep: I shall be vexed to my heart. Just as madame pleases, though, +of course. Milady Grey did come to me yesterday for a lace dress: I +told milady I should have one in a week's time: I did not care for her +to see it first, for she is short, and she does not set off the things +well. I know she would give me one hundred and twenty for this, and be +glad to get it." + +This was nearly the climax. Lady Grey, a young and pretty woman, +dressed as extravagantly as did Mrs. Dalrymple, and there was a hidden +rivalry between them, quite well known. + +"There is another lady who would like it, I know, and she has but just +gone out--and a most charming angel she is. I do speak of the Lady +Adela----" + +This was quite the climax, and Selina hastily interrupted. Lady Adela +was even more lovely than was she herself: very much, too, in the same +style of delicate beauty. What would Adela be in that lace dress! + +"I will take it," cried Selina. "I must have a slip of that peach +glacé to wear underneath it." + +"It will be altogether fit for a queen," quoth madame. + +"But could I have them home by tomorrow night for Lady Burnham's +party?" + +"Certainly madame can." + +"Very well then," concluded Selina. "Or--stay: would white look better +under it, after all? I have ever so many white glacé slips." + +Madame's opinion was that no colour, ever seen in the earth or in the +air, could or would look as well as the peach. Milady Grey could not +wear peach; she was too dark. + +"Yes, I'll decide upon the peach blossom," concluded Selina. "But +that's not a good silk, is it?" + +"Si. Mais si. C'est de la soie cuite." + +"And that is all, I think, for today." + +"What will Madame Dalreemp wear in her hair with this, tomorrow +night?" + +"Ah! that's well thought of. It must be either white or peach." + +"Or mixed. Cherchez la boîte, numero deux," quietly added madame to an +attendant. + +Box, number two, was brought. And madame disentangled from its +contents of flowers a beautiful wreath of peach-blossom and white, +with crystallized leaves. "They came in only today," she said. Which +was true. + +"The very thing," cried Selina, in admiration. "Send that with the +bonnet and sleeves today." + +"Madame ought to wear amethysts with this toilette," suggested Madame +Damereau. + +"Amethysts! I have none." + +"It is a great pity, that. They would look superbe." + +"I was admiring a set of amethysts the other day," thought Selina, as +she went down to her carriage. "I wish I could have them. I wonder +whether they were very out-of-the-way in point of cost? I'll drive +there and ascertain. I have had a good many little things there that +Oscar does not know of." + +She entered her carriage, ordering it to the jeweller's; and with +her pretty face reposing amidst its lace and its flowers, and her +point-lace parasol shading it, Mrs. Dalrymple, satisfied and happy, +bowed right and left to the numerous admiring faces that met and bowed +to her. + +That same evening, Madame Damereau, having dined well and taken her +coffee, proceeded to her usual business with her cashier, Mrs. Cooper. +A reduced gentlewoman, who had tried the position of governess till +she was heart-sick, and thankfully left it for her present situation, +where she had less to do and a liberal salary. Miss Atkinson and Miss +Wells, the two show-room assistants, came in. It was necessary to give +Mrs. Cooper a summary of the day's sale, that she might enter the +articles. They arrived, in due course, at the account of Mrs. +Dalrymple. + +"Dress of Point d'Angleterre," cried Madame Damereau. "One hundred +guineas." + +"Which dress is it she has bought?" inquired Mrs. Cooper, looking up +from her writing. She had learnt to take an interest in the sales and +customers. + +"The one that the baroness ordered for her daughter, and would not +have when it came," explained madame. "I then sent it to the Countess +of Ac-corn, who was inquiring about a lace robe yesterday morning: but +it seems she did not keep it. She never knows her own mind two hours +together, that Milady Ac-corn." + +"It is a very nice dress," remarked Mrs. Cooper. + +"It is a beauty," added Miss Atkinson. "And Lady Acorn need not have +cried it down." + +"Did she cry it down?" quickly asked madame. + +"She said it was as dear as fire's hot." + +"Par exemple!" uttered madame, with a flashing face. "Did she say +that?" + +"Yes, madame. So Robert told me when he brought it back." + +"She's the most insolent customer we have, that Femme Ac-corn," +exploded madame. "And pays the worst. The robe would have been cheap +at the price I asked her--eighty guineas." + +"Mrs. Dalrymple, lace robe, one hundred guineas," read Mrs. Cooper. +"What else?--making?" + +"Making, two guineas. Peach glacé slip comes next." + +"Peach glacé slip," wrote Mrs. Cooper. "The price, if you please?" + +"Put it down in round figures. Ten guineas. She did not ask." + +"I sold her those morning sleeves with the little dots," interposed +Miss Wells. "There was no price mentioned, madame." + +"What were they marked?" asked madame. + +"Fourteen and sixpence." + +"Put them down at a guinea, Mrs. Cooper. Making peach glacé slip--let +me see, no lining or trimming--say fourteen shillings. White +point-lace bonnet, thirteen guineas. Sleeves and collar--what did I +say for that, Miss Wells?" + +"Fifteen guineas, madame: and the handkerchief nine." + +"Sleeves, collar, and handkerchief of Venice point, twenty-four +guineas," read Mrs. Cooper. "She must be rich, this Mrs. Dalrymple." + +"Comme ça, for that," quoth madame. + +"She has had for more than a thousand pounds in the last six weeks. I +suppose you are sure of her, madame? She is a new customer this +season." + +"I wish I was as sure of getting to Paris next year," responded +madame. "Her husband has not long ago come into the Dalreemp estate. +And the English estates are fine, you know. These young brides will +dress and have their fling, and they must pay for it. They come to me: +I do not go to them. The Dalreemps are friends of the Cliv-lands, and +of those rich people in Grosvenor Square, the Grubbs, which is quite +sufficient passe-port. You can go on now to Madame Cliv-land, Mrs. +Cooper: one black mantle, silk and lace, three pounds ten shillings, +and one fancy straw bonnet, blue trimmings, three guineas." + +"Is that all there is for Mrs. Cleveland?" + +Madame shrugged her shoulders. "That's all. I would not give thank you +for the custom of Madame Cliv-land in itself; but they are well +connected, and she is a gentle, good woman. I thought she looked ill +today." + +"There was Mrs. Dalrymple's wreath," interrupted Miss Atkinson, +referring to a pencil list in her hand. + +"Tiens, I forgot," answered madame. "What were those wreaths invoiced +to us at, Miss Wells? This is the first of them sold." + +"Twenty-nine and sixpence each, madame." + +"Peach-and-white crystallized wreath, Mrs. Cooper, if you please. +Forty-nine shillings." + +"Forty-nine shillings," concluded Mrs. Cooper, making the entry. "That +is all, then, for Mrs. Dalrymple." + +And a pretty good "all," for one day, it was, considering Mr. +Dalrymple's income. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. +A LECTURE. + + +A small, friendly dinner-table, Mr. Grubb and Lady Adela presiding. A +thin, sharp-featured, insignificant little man, whose evening clothes +looked the worse for wear, and who wore a black watered ribbon across +his waistcoat in lieu of a gold chain, sat at Lady Adela's right hand. +It was Colonel Hope. To look at him and his attire, you would have +said he did not know where to turn for a shilling: yet he was the +possessor of great wealth, and had seen hard service in India. Beside +Mr. Grubb sat the colonel's wife, Lady Sarah; a tall, portly woman, +whose face bore much resemblance to her mother's, Lady Acorn. Grace +and Frances Chenevix and Mr. Howard, Mr. Grubb's partner, completed +the party: the latter was a staid, stiff gentleman of sixty, with +iron-grey hair and whiskers, and a stern face. He and the colonel had +known each other in early life, when both had the world to fight for +fame or fortune. Each had fought it well, and won; certainly so far as +fortune was concerned. The colonel was just home from India, and Mr. +Grubb had given the two early friends a speedy opportunity of meeting. +One place at table was empty, and the young lady who sat next it, +Frances Chenevix, did not look quite pleased at its being so. It was +intended for Gerard Hope, who had somehow failed to make his +appearance. + +Colonel Hope had retired from the army and was come home for good. +About a year ago he and Lady Sarah had lost their two sons, lads of +seven and eight, from fever. They had no other children, and it was +generally supposed the colonel would make his nephew, Gerard, his +heir. The colonel and his wife were both tired this evening, having +been looking at houses all day. Frances had been with them, but she +seemed fresh and bright as a lark. The colonel had bought a pretty +little property in Gloucestershire, but Lady Sarah wished for a town +house also. + +"I think I shall take it, though it is rather small," observed the +colonel, talking of one of the houses they had seen. "There'd be room +for a friend or two as well as for ourselves: and for Gerard also, if +I decide to adopt him. By the way--what is your opinion of that young +man, Grubb?" + +"As to looks, do you mean, colonel?" smiled Mr. Grubb. "They are good. +I don't know much else of him." + +"Thought you did," growled the colonel, who was a hot-tempered man, +and liked plain answers to his questions. + +"I know nothing against him," said Mr. Grubb, emphatically. "I have +seen but little of him, but that little I like." + +"He is very nice and very good, and quite worthy to be adopted by you +and Sarah, colonel," spoke up Lady Frances in her free way. "I'm sure +the manner he slaves away in that red-tape office he is chained to, +ought to be a gold feather in his cap." + +"A gold feather?" repeated the literal colonel, looking at the speaker +questioningly. While Mr. Howard, who knew what "slaving away" amounted +to in a red-tape office, indulged in a silent laugh. + +"Well, ought to tell in his favour, I mean," said Frances, mending her +speech. + +"I suppose he only does what he is put to do--his daily work," +continued the colonel. "That, he cannot shirk: he has nothing to look +to but his salary to pay his way. There's no merit in doing one's +simple duty." + +"I think there is a great deal, when it is such hard work as +Gerard's," contended Frances. And this time Mr. Howard laughed +outright at the "hard work." + +"Perhaps the hard work is keeping him tonight," suggested Mr. Grubb, +with just the ghost of a smile. + +"No," said Frances, "I think the office closes at four." + +"Oh," cried the colonel. "Where is he then? What does he mean by +staying away?" + +"He is run over, of course," said Frances, "and taken to the nearest +hospital. Nothing short of that would have kept him away." + +Lady Sarah Hope looked down the table at her sister. "Is Gerard in +love with you, Frances?" + +"In love with me!" exclaimed the young lady, her face flushing +vividly. "What ridiculous fable will you imagine next, Sarah?" + +"Is it a fable?" added Lady Sarah, struck with the flush. + +"What else should it be?" laughed Frances. "Gerard could not think of +falling in love upon nothing a-year. Nothing a-year, and find himself! +That has been his case, poor fellow--or something akin to it." + +"That may be remedied," remarked Lady Sarah. She had caught up an +opinion upon the subject, and she held to it in the future. + +As the small line of ladies filed out of the dining-room, Lady Sarah, +walking first, turned just outside the door to wait for her sister +Adela. Mr. Grubb, who was holding the door open, said something to his +wife in an undertone as she passed him. Adela made no answer whatever; +except that her lifted face put on a look of scorn, and her lips took +a downward curve. + +"What did your husband say to you?" asked Lady Sarah, having fancied +that she heard her own name--Hope. + +"I don't know--or care. As if I should listen to anything he might +say!" contemptuously added Lady Adela. + +Lady Sarah stared. "Why, child, what do you mean? He is your husband." + +"To my cost." + +"What do you mean? What does she mean?" continued Lady Sarah, +appealing to the other two sisters, for Adela had not deemed it +necessary to lower her voice. They did not answer. Grace took up an +album, her face wearing a sad look of pain; Frances walked into the +other drawing-room. + +"I insist upon knowing what you mean, in saying that Mr. Grubb is your +husband to _your cost_," cried Lady Sarah, returning to the charge. +She was so much older than Adela--looking, in fact, old enough to be +her mother, for India's sun and the loss of her children had greatly +aged her--that she took her to task at will. Lady Sarah, like her +mother, had always displayed somewhat of a propensity for setting the +world to rights. + +"It is to my cost," spoke Adela, defiantly. "That I should be _his_ +wife, obliged to stand as such before the world, a man of _his_ name, +a tradesman!" And the emphatic scorn, the stress of aversion laid on +the "his," no pen could adequately express. "I never hear myself +announced, 'Lady Adela Grubb,' but I shiver; I never see it in the +_Morning Post_, amongst the lists at an entertainment, or perhaps at +Court, but I fling the paper from me. As I should like to fling +_him_." + +"Bless my heart and mind, what's in a name?" demanded Lady Sarah, +having listened as one astounded. + +"Grubb! Grubb!" hissed Adela, from between her dainty lips. "There is +a great deal in that name, at any rate, Sarah. I hate it. It is to me +as a nightmare. And I hate him for forcing me to bear it." + +"Forcing you to bear it! Why, you are his wife." + +"I am--to my shame. But he had no right to make me his wife: to ask me +to be his wife. Why could he not have fixed upon any one else? Grace, +there, for instance. She would not have minded the name or the trade. +She'd have got used to it--and to him." + +Lady Sarah Hope nodded her head four or five times in succession. "A +pretty frame of mind you are cherishing, Adela! Leave off such evil +speaking--and thinking. Your husband is a true gentleman, a man that +the world may be proud of; he can hold his own as such anywhere. As to +the house in Leadenhall Street, it is of world-wide fame--the idea of +your calling him a 'tradesman!'--Let me speak! Where can you find a +man with so noble a presence, so refined and sweet a countenance? And +I feel sure that he is as good and true and generous in himself as he +is distinguished in reputation and person." + +"All the same, I scorn him. I hate him for having chosen me. And it is +the pleasure of my life to let him see that I do," concluded Adela, in +sheer defiance, as she tossed her pretty head. + +"Cease, Adela, cease!" interposed Grace, coming forward, her hands +lifted imploringly. "You little know the wickedness of what you are +saying; or the evil you may be laying up for yourself in the days to +come. This is not your true nature; you are only forcing it upon +yourself to gratify a resentment you have persistently taken up. How +often have I prayed to you to be your own true self! + +"Pray for it yourself, child," enjoined Lady Sarah, laying her hand +with a firm grasp upon Adela's shoulder. "Pray upon your bended knees +to Heaven, to snatch and shield you from Satan. Most assuredly he has +got into you." + +"What has got into me?" asked Adela, with languid indifference, not +having caught the words. + +"The devil," angrily amended Lady Sarah. + +That infant of Lady Adela's, little George, did not live. Just for a +month or two, just long enough for her to get passionately attached to +him, to use every means to make him strong, he lingered. Then there +came three days of illness, and the little soul fled from the feeble +frame. No other child had been born, and Lady Adela seemed to be left +with no end or aim in life, except that of cherishing resentment +against Mr. Grubb. She took it up more fiercely than ever, and she let +him feel it to his heart's core. The still, small voice of conscience, +warning her that this was a forced and unnatural state of mind, could +not always be deadened. The very fact of its pricking her caused her +to resent the pricks, and to nourish her ill-omened temper the more +persistently. Francis Grubb's life was not one of fair skies and +rose-leaves. + +"I should like to shake it out of her--and I wonder he does not do +it," ran the thoughts of Frances Chenevix, as she opened the piano in +the next room and began to play a dashing march. + +Very especially just now was the Lady Adela Grubb resenting things in +general. Captain Stanley--who had set up a flirtation with her when +she was but a slip of a girl, and with whom it had pleased her to +fancy herself in love after he sailed for India, though that was pure +fancy and not fact--had taken no notice of her now that he was home +again, beyond that demanded by the ordinary usages of society; and at +this Lady Adela felt mortified--slighted. He had not as much as said +to her, "So we are both married, you and I; we cannot sit in corners +any more to talk in whispers:" on the contrary, he spent his time +talking with newer beauties, Selina Dalrymple for one. It was quite +the behaviour of a bear, decided Adela; and she was resenting it by +showing temper to the world. + +Frances Chenevix dashed through the march. Its last bars were dying +into silence, when she thought she heard footsteps on the stairs. +Going to the door, she saw Gerard Hope. + +"Well, and what account have you to give of yourself?" began Frances, +as he took her hand. + +"I was at a water-party at Richmond," breathlessly answered Gerard, +who had been having a race with time. + +"Well, I'm sure! And here have I been vowing to them that nothing +could have kept you but being run over in the streets; and Colonel +Hope thinks you are detained over the red-tape duties. You might have +come for once, Gerard." + +"I couldn't possibly, Frances; I couldn't land; and then I had to +dress. The tide kept us out. It has vexed me above a bit, I can tell +you." + +"You look vexed," she retorted, regarding his laughing countenance. + +"I am vexed; but it is of no use to weep over it. You know I want to +stand well with my uncle. I suppose you have finished dinner?" + +"Ages ago." + +"Where are the rest of you ladies?" + +"In the next room, quarrelling. Lady Sarah is treating Adela to a bit +of her mind--and she deserves it. Now, Gerard, behave yourself. What +do you want to come so close to me for?" + +For Mr. Gerard Hope was squeezing himself beside her on a small +ottoman, meant for only one portly personage. He did more than that: +he stole his arm round her waist. + +"I believe Uncle Hope wants to adopt me," cried Gerard. "Won't it be +jolly. No more scratch, scratch, scratch away with a pen all the +blessed day." + +"I called it 'slavery' to them just now," interrupted Frances. + +"Good girl! No more getting up by candle-light in winter, and trudging +off through the frost and through the thaw without breakfast, which +you have not had time to take! It will be a change--if he does it. I'm +not sure of it yet." + +"You don't deserve it, Gerard." + +"No! Why don't I? I'd try and be a good nephew to him--as dutiful as +the good boy in the spelling-book. I say, Frances, has he been asking +about me?--getting references as to character?" + +"Yes, he has," was the perhaps unexpected answer. "Just as if you were +a footman. Mr. Grubb said he did not know much of you; but what he did +know he liked. Hark! They are coming out of the dining-room. And if +you want any dinner, you had better go there and ring for it." + +"Perhaps there's none left for me." + +Frances laughed. "I heard Mr. Grubb whisper to his wife that if Gerard +Hope came he was to go into the dining-room." + +Gerard rose, went out, and met the gentlemen. Frances stayed where she +was, and fell into a reverie. Did Gerard really love her? At times she +thought so, at others she thought not. + + +The days wore onwards in their rapid flight. Time does not stand still +even for those favoured ones who are plunged, for the first time, into +the allurements of a London season: as was Selina Dalrymple. + +One bright morning, when the sun was shining brilliantly and the +skies were blue and the streets warm and dusty, she sat in the +breakfast-room with her husband. The late meal was over, and Selina, a +hot colour in her cheeks, was drumming her pretty foot on the floor, +and not looking the essence of good-humour. She wore a richly +embroidered white dress with pink ribbons. Mr. Dalrymple's eyes had +rarely rested on a fairer woman, and his heart knew it too well. + +"Selina, I asked you last night whether you intended to go to Lady +Burnham's breakfast, at that rural villa of theirs. Of course, if you +go, I will accompany you, otherwise I have some business I should like +to attend to on Thursday." + +"I can't go," answered Selina. "I have nothing to wear." + +"Nothing to wear!" + +"Nothing on earth." + +"How can you say so?" + +"I did think of ordering a suitable toilette for it, and was at +Damereau's about it yesterday. But, after what you said last +night----" + +"My dear, what do you mean? what did I say? Only that you seemed, to +me, never to appear in the same gown whether at home or out; and I +begged you to remember that our income was limited." + +"You said I changed my dresses four times a-day, Oscar." + +"Well. Don't you?" + +"But every one else does; Some change them five times. You would not +like me to come down in the morning and go up to bed at night in the +same dress, would you?" + +"I suppose not. It's of no use asking me about dress, Selina. I +scarcely know one gown from another. But it does strike me that you +have a most extraordinary number of new things. Go out or come in when +I will, there's sure to be the milliner's porter and basket at the +door." + +"Would you have me look an object?" + +"You never do look an object." + +"Of course I don't. I guard against it. I'd give the world to go to +this fête at the Burnhams'. Every soul will be there, but me." + +"And why not you, if your heart is so set upon It? I think all such +affairs a stupid bore: but that's nothing." + +"Would you wish me to go there in a petticoat?" + +"No; I suppose not. I tell you I am no judge of a lady's things. I +don't think I should know a petticoat from a gown. Those are gowns, +are they not, hanging in rows round the walls in the room above, and +covered up with sheets and table-cloths." + +"Sheets and table-cloths! Oscar!" + +"My dear, they look like it." + +"Well--if they are gowns--there's not one I can wear." + +"They are all recently new," said Mr. Dalrymple. "What's the matter +with them?" + +"There's not one I can wear," persisted his wife. + +"But why?" + +"Why!" repeated Mrs. Dalrymple, in quite a contemptuous tone, for she +had no patience with ignorance. "You ought to know why!" + +"My dear, I really don't. If you wish me to know, you must tell me." + +"_I have worn them all once_," was the angry answer. "And some twice, +and some three times. And one---- Oscar," she broke off, "you remember +that lovely one; a sky blue, shot with white; a robe à disposition?" + +"What is à disposition?" + +"Oh--a silk, flounced, and the flounces have some designs upon them, +embossed, or raised, sometimes of a different colour. That dress I +have worn five times. I really have, Oscar; five times! + +"I wear my coats fifty times five." + +"The idea of my being seen at Lady Burnham's in a dress I have worn +before! No; I'd rather go in a petticoat, of the two evils, and hide +my head for ever after." + +Mr. Dalrymple was puzzled. "Why could you not be seen, there or +anywhere else, in a dress you have worn before?" + +"Because no one else is." + +"Then what becomes of all the new gowns?" inquired the wondering man. + +"For goodness' sake, do not keep on calling them 'gowns.'" + +"Dresses, then. What becomes of them?" + +"Oh--they do for the country. Some few, by dint of retrimming, can be +made to look new for town. You don't understand ladies' dresses, +Oscar." + +"I have said I do not." + +"Neither ought you," added Selina, crossly. "We do not worry ourselves +to interfere between you and your tailors, or pry into the shape and +make of your waistcoats and buttons and things, and we do not expect +to have it done by us." + +"Selina, let your grievance come to an end. I do not like to hear this +tone of reproach." + +"Then you must retract what you said last night. It was as if you +wanted me never to have a new dress again." + +"Nay, Selina, I only reminded you how small our income is. You must +not overlook that." + +"Don't be foolish, Oscar. Do you fear I am going to ruin you? What's +the cost of a few dresses? I _must_ have one for Lady Burnham's fête." + +"My dear, have what you like, in reason," he said, in the innocence of +his unconscious heart: "you are the best judge. Of course I can trust +you." + +The words were as the sweetest music in her ear. She sprang up, +dancing to a scrap of a song. + +"You dear, good Oscar I knew you were never going to be an old +griffin. I think I must have that lovely green-and-white gauze. It was +the most magnificent dress. I was divided between that and a +cream-coloured damask. I'll have the gauze. And gauze dresses cost +nothing." + +"Nothing?" + +"Next to nothing." + +Selina flew upstairs. She pulled aside the "sheets and table-cloths," +and glanced underneath. It was a goodly stock of robes; but yet not +all the stock: for the lace, and muslin, and flimsy gauze, and +delicate white, and delicate pearl, and delicate pink, and delicate +other shades, were reposing in drawers, out of sight, between folds of +tissue paper. Barège and balzarine: satin, plain and figured; velvet; +silk, plain, damask, flowered, shot, corded, and of all the colours of +the rainbow. Beautiful dresses; and yet--new, and rich, and elegant as +they were, Selina Dalrymple could not go to the fête without a new +one! + +Away she went to Madame Damereau's. Astonishing that renowned artiste +by the early hour of her visit. + +"I want a thousand things," began Selina, in the blitheness of her +heart. "Have you sold the green-and-white gauze dress?" + +No, was madame's answer, she had kept it on purpose for Madame +Dalreemp. Milady Ac-corn had come in yesterday afternoon late, and +wanted it, but she had told milady that it was sold. + +Selina took it all in. The fact was, madame had tried to persuade +Milady Ac-corn into buying it, but milady was proof against the price. +She had wanted it for Frances. It was only seventeen guineas, and that +included the fringe and trimmings. Selina had told her husband that +gauze dresses cost nothing! + +"I want it for the breakfast on Thursday," cried Selina. "What mantle +can I wear?" + +A momentous question. They ran over in memory the mantles, scarfs, +fichus, possessed by Mrs. Dalrymple, and came to the conclusion that +not one of them would "go with" the gauze dress. + +"I have a lace mantle," said madame--"ah! but it is recherché!--a real +Brussels. If there is one robe in my house that it ought to go with, +it is that green-and-white." + +She brought it forward and exhibited it upon the dress. Very +beautiful; of that there was no doubt. It was probably a beautiful +price also. + +"Twenty-five guineas." + +"Oh my goodness--twenty-five guineas!" cried Selina. "But I'll take +it. A breakfast fête does not come every day." + +For a wonder--_for_ a wonder--Selina, having exhibited her white lace +bonnet with the emeralds only twice, came to the conclusion that that +"would do." Not that she hesitated at buying another, but that it was +so suitable to the green-and-white dress. + +"And now for---- Oh, stop; I think I must have a new parasol. My +point-lace one is soiled, and I caught it in my bracelet the other day +and tore it a little. You had a beautiful point-lace parasol here +yesterday. Let me see it." + +"The one you wore looking at yesterday will not do," cried madame. "It +is lined with blue: Madame Dalreemp knows that blue can never go with +the green dress. I have one parasol--ah, but it is a beauty!--a +point-lace, lined with white. I will get it. It does surpass the +other." + +It did surpass the other, and in price also. Selina chose it. It was +twenty guineas. + +"My husband thought I could have worn one of my old dresses," observed +Selina, as she turned over some gloves; "he says I have a great many. +But one can only appear in a perfectly fresh toilette at a magnificent +gathering such as this is to be." And madame fully assented. + +Mrs. Dalrymple went to the breakfast, and she and her attire were +lovely amidst the lovely, exciting no end of admiration. Very +gratifying to her heart, then topsy-turvy with vanity. And so it went +on to the end of the season, and her pleasurable course was never +checked. + +When they were preparing to return to the Grange, and her maid was +driven wild with perplexity as to the stowing away of so extensive a +wardrobe, and conjecturing that the carriage down of it would alone +come to "something," it occurred to Selina, as she sat watching, that +the original cost would also come to "something." Some hundreds, she +feared, now she came to see the whole collection in a mass. + +"Of course I shall not let Oscar see the bill," she soliloquized. +"I'll get it from madame before I leave: and then there'll be no fear +of its coming to him at the Grange." + +Mrs. Dalrymple asked for the bill; and madame, under protest that +there was no hurry in the world, promised to send it in. + +Selina was alone, sitting in the drawing-room by twilight, when the +account was delivered to her; it was enclosed in a large thick +envelope, with an imposing red seal. She opened it somewhat eagerly. +"What makes it such a bulk?" she thought. "Oh, I see; she has detailed +the things." + +Holding it close to the window, she looked at the bottom of the page, +and saw ninety-four pounds. + +"Ninety-four pounds!" ejaculated Selina. "What does madame mean? It +must be much more than that." + +She lighted the little taper on her writing-table; and then found she +had been looking at one item only--the Venice point-lace for the +decoration of a dress. So she turned the page and looked at the foot +of the next. + +"Antique robe, lace trimmings, and sapphire buttons, one hundred and +twenty-five pounds. Tush!" impatiently exclaimed Selina. + +With a rapid movement she turned the account over to the end, and +gazed at the sum total; gazed at it, stared at it, and recoiled from +it. Three thousand and odd pounds, odd shillings, and no pence! What +the odd pounds were, whether one, or whether nine hundred +ninety-nine, she did not catch in that moment of terror; the first +grand sum of three thousand absorbed her eyes and her faculties. And +there floated over her a confused consciousness of other bills to come +in: one from the jeweller's, one for shawls, one for expensively +trimmed linen. There was one shawl, real India--but she dared not +think of that. "Oscar will say I have been mad," she groaned. + +No doubt he would. + +At that moment she heard his step, coming in from the dining-room, and +turned sick. She crushed the bill in her right hand and thrust it down +the neck of her dress. Then she blew out the taper, and turned, with a +burning brow and shrinking frame, to the window again, and stood +there, apparently looking out. Selina had never attempted to sum up +what she had bought. At odd moments she had feared it might come to +something like a thousand pounds. + +Oscar came up and put his arm around her, asking whether it was not +time to have the lights. + +"Yes. Presently." + +"What in the world have you got here?" cried he. "A ball?" + +She pushed the "ball" higher up, and murmured something about "some +paper." + +"My dear, what is the matter with you here? You are trembling." + +"The night-air, I suppose. It is rather chilly." + +Yet the night was hot. Mr. Dalrymple immediately began to close the +window. He was a minute or two over it, for one of the cords was stiff +and did not go well. When he turned round again, his wife had left the +room. + +"Selina does not seem very well," thought Oscar. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. +FOLLY. + + +There is no misfortune on earth so great as that of a troubled +conscience: there is nothing that will wear the spirits and the frame +like a burdensome secret which may not be told. It will blanch the +cheek and sicken the heart; it will render the day a terror and the +bed weary; so that the unhappy victim will be tempted to say with Job: +When shall I arise and the night be gone? He is full of tossings to +and fro unto the dawning of the day: his sleep is scared with dreams +and terrified with visions. + +Had Mrs. Oscar Dalrymple been of a different temperament, this unhappy +state of mind would have been hers. But she had no very deep feeling. +Troubled in a degree she undoubtedly was. That terrible secret, the +debts she had incurred, lay on her mind always in a greater or a less +degree; for she knew that when her husband paid them he would be half +ruined; certainly crippled for years to come. + +Another season had come round and was at its height; and Mr. and Mrs. +Dalrymple had again come up to it. The past autumn and winter had been +spent at Moat Grange, which Selina found insufferably dull, and where +her chief solace and recreation consisted in looking over her +beautiful and extensive wardrobe, and trying on portions of it in +private. A very negative sort of enjoyment. Where was the use of +possessing these divine dresses and adjuncts, when no field was +afforded for their display? Selina had ventured to wear one costly +robe on a certain evening that she dined at Court Netherleigh, and was +severely taken to task by her mother, who was the only other guest, +and by Miss Upton, for appearing in such "finery." They asked her what +she meant by such extravagance. And that before Oscar, too! Selina +blushed a little and laughed it off; but she mentally wondered what +would have been said had she put on her very finest, or if they saw +the stock at home. + +During the winter Selina had a fever, brought on, it was thought, from +exposing herself unduly to damp. She grew better, but was somewhat +delicate and very capricious. Oscar, loving her intensely, grew to +humour her fancies and to pet her as if she were a spoiled child. Her +conscience reproached her now and then for the tacit deceit she was +enacting, in thus suffering him to live in blissful ignorance of their +true position; but on the whole it did not trouble her greatly. Alice, +her sensitive sister, would have died under it; Selina contrived to +exist very comfortably. + +"If you found out that I had done anything dreadfully wrong, would you +quite kill me?" she playfully said to him one day. + +"Dare say I should," answered Oscar, putting on a face of mock +severity. "Might depend, perhaps, upon what the thing was." + +"Ah, no; you'd just scold me for five minutes, and then kiss and be +friends. I always said you'd never turn out to be an old griffin." + +That was the nearest approach Selina ever made towards confessing to +her husband. And Oscar had only looked upon it as a bit of passing +pleasantry. + +Alice Dalrymple had left her mother's house to become companion to +Lady Sarah Hope. During a week's visit that Colonel Hope and his wife +made to Miss Upton in the autumn--it was soon after they had got into +their new house in London--Alice had also been staying at Court +Netherleigh. One day Lady Sarah chanced to say she wished she could +find some nice young gentlewoman, who would come to her in the +capacity of companion: upon which Alice said, "Would you take me?" +"Ay, and be glad to get you," returned Lady Sarah, supposing that +Alice had spoken in jest. Alice, however, was in earnest. She could +not bear to be living on the charity of Oscar Dalrymple, for she +shrewdly guessed that Selina threw as much expense on him as he could +well afford; and Alice quite believed that her mother, devoted to the +care of her poultry, her birds, and her flowers, would not miss her. +So the bargain was struck. "And please remember, Lady Sarah, that I +come to you entirely as companion, prepared to fulfil all a +companion's duties, and not merely as a visitor," Alice gravely said; +and she meant it. + +Selina was vexed when she heard of the arrangement. She went straight +down to her mother's cottage, and upbraided Alice sharply. "It is +lowering us all," she said to her. "A companion is next door to a +servant; every one knows that. It will be just a disgrace to the name +of Dalrymple." + +"Very well, Selina; then, as you think that, I will drop the name," +returned Alice. "I was christened Alice Seaton, you know, after my +godmother, and I will be called Miss Seaton at Lady Sarah's." + +"Stuff and nonsense, child!" retorted Selina. "You may call yourself +Seaton all the world over, but all the world will know still that you +are Alice Dalrymple." + +Alice entered upon her new home in London, and gravely told everybody +in it that she wished to be called by her second name, Seaton. Lady +Sarah laughed, and promised to humour her as often as she could +remember to do it. + +In December, Colonel Hope had formally adopted his nephew, Gerard. The +young man threw up his post in the red-tape office (not at all a wise +thing to do), and took up his abode with his uncle. They all went down +to the colonel's place in Gloucestershire to spend Christmas, +including Frances Chenevix, who almost seemed to have been as much +adopted as Gerard, so frequently was she staying with them. Christmas +passed; they came to London again, and things went on smoothly and +gaily until just before Easter, when a fracas occurred. Gerard Hope +contrived in some way to offend the colonel and Lady Sarah so +implacably that they discarded him; frequent growls had ended in a +quarrel. Gerard was insolent, and the colonel, hot and peppery, turned +him out of the house. They went again into Gloucestershire for Easter, +Alice with them as companion and Frances as a guest; but not Gerard. +In fact, so far as one might judge, he was discarded for ever. + +The cause was this: Lady Sarah, detecting the predilection of her +sister Frances for the young man, and believing that he was equally +attached to her, went out of her way and her pride to offer her to +him. Gerard had refused it point blank. No wonder Lady Sarah was +angry! + + The sweet month of June came round again, and the London +season, as I have said, was at its height. Amidst those who were +plunging headlong into its vanities was Selina Dalrymple. She had +coaxed and begged and prayed her husband to give her just another +month or two of it this year, assuring him she should die if he did +not. And Oscar, though wincing at the cost, knowing well he could not +and ought not to afford it, at length gave in. It appeared that he +could deny her nothing. The expenses of the previous season were far +more than he had expected, and as yet he had not been able to +discharge them all. Apart, this, from his wife's private expenses, of +which he as yet remained in ignorance. + +It may be questioned, however, whether Selina enjoyed this second +season quite as much as she had the last. The visit and the gaiety and +the homage were as captivating as ever, but she lived in a kind of +terror; for Madame Damereau was pressing for the payment of her +account. If that came to Oscar's knowledge, he would not only do to +her, she hardly knew what, perhaps even box her ears, but he would be +quite certain to carry her forthwith from this delightful London life +to that awful prison, Moat Grange, at Netherleigh. + +One afternoon, Oscar was turning out of his temporary home in Berkeley +Street--for they had the same rooms as last year--when he saw coming +towards him a young lady who walked a little lame. It was Alice +Dalrymple. + +"Ah, Alice!" he cried. "Have you come to London?" + +"Yes," she replied. "Lady Sarah is better, and we left Gloucestershire +yesterday to join the colonel here: he has been writing for us for +more than a week past. Is Selina at home?" + +"She is, for a wonder. Waiting for somebody she intends to go out +with." + +"How is she?" + +"I cannot tell you how she is. Rather strange, it seems to me." + +"Strange!" + +"Take my arm, Alice, and walk with me a few paces. There's something +the matter with Selina, and I cannot make it out," continued Mr. +Dalrymple. "She acts for all the world as if she had committed some +crime. I told her so the other day." + +"Acts in what way?" cried Alice. + +"She's frightened at her own shadow. When the post used to come in at +the Grange she would watch for the boy, dart down the path, and seize +the letters, as if she feared I might read the directions of hers. +When she was recovering from that fever, and I would take her letters +in to her, she more than once became blanched and scared. Often I ask +her questions, or address remarks to her, and she is buried in her own +thoughts, and does not hear me. She starts and moans in her sleep; +twice lately I have awakened in the middle of the night and found her +gone from the bed and pacing the dressing-room." + +"You alarm me," exclaimed Alice. "What can it be?" + +"I can only suppose that her nerves are overwrought with all these +follies she is plunged into. It is nothing but turmoil and excitement; +turmoil and excitement from day to day. I was a fool to come here +again this year, and that's the truth." + +"Selina had always led so very quiet a life," murmured Alice. + +"Of course she had; and it has been a wonderful change for her; enough +to upset the nervous system of a delicate woman. Selina has not been +too strong since she had that fever." + +"She ought to keep more quiet." + +"She ought; but she will not. Before we came up I told her she must +not do as she did last year; and I thought she did not mean to. Alice, +she is mad after these gay frivolities; worse than she was last +summer, I do believe--and that need not be. I wished not to come; I +told Selina why--the expense, and other reasons--but she would. She +would, Alice. I wonder what it is that chains her mind to this Babel +of a city. I hate it. Go you in and see her, Alice. I can't stay now, +for I have an appointment." + +Mrs. Dalrymple was in her bedroom when Alice entered, dressed, and +waiting to go out: dressed with an elegance regardless of expense. + +"Good gracious, child, is it you!" she exclaimed. + +When the first moments had passed, Alice sat down and looked at her +sister: her cheek was thin, and its bloom told more of hectic than of +health. + +"Selina!" exclaimed Alice, "what is the matter? You are much altered." + +"Am I? People do alter. You are altered. You look ill." + +"Not more so than usual," replied Alice. "I grow weaker with time But +you are ill: I can see it. You look as if you had something preying on +your mind." + +"Nonsense, Alice. You are fanciful." + +"What is it?" persisted Alice. + +"If I have, your knowing it would do me no good, and would worry you. +And yet," added Mrs. Dalrymple, "I think I will tell you. I have felt +lately, Alice, that I must tell some one!" + +Alice laid gentle hold of her. "Let us sit down on the sofa, as we +used to sit together at the Grange, when we were really sisters. But, +Selina, if you have wanted a confidant in any grief, who so fitted to +be that as your husband?" + +"He!" cried Selina--"_he!_ It is the dread of his knowing it--the +anxiety I am in, daily and hourly, to keep it from him--that is +wearing me out. Sometimes I say to myself, 'What if I put an end to it +all, as Robert did?'" + +Alice was accustomed to the random figures of speech her sister was at +moments given to using; nevertheless her heart stood still. + +"What is it that you have done, Selina?" + +"Ruined Oscar." + +"Ruined Oscar!" + +"And ruined myself, with him," added Selina, in reckless tones, as she +took off her bonnet with a jerk, and let it lie in her lap. "I have +contracted debts that neither he nor I can pay, thousands upon +thousands; and the worry of it, the constant fear is rendering my life +a--I will not _say_ what--upon earth." + +"Debts! thousands upon thousands!" confusedly uttered Alice. + +"It is so." + +"How did you contract them? Not as--as--Robert did? Surely that +infatuation is not come upon you?" + +"No. But that infatuation, as you call it, is in fashion in our +circles just now. I could tell you of one young lady, whom you know, +who amuses herself with it pretty largely." + +"A young lady!" + +"She is younger than I am--but she's married," returned Selina: and the +young lady in question was the Lady Adela Grubb. "My embarrassment +arises from a love of pretty gowns," she added lightly; for it was not +possible for Selina Dalrymple to maintain a tragic mood many minutes +together. "Damereau's bill for last season was between three and four +thousand pounds. It is between four and five thousand now." + +Alice Dalrymple felt bewildered. "It is not possible for one person to +owe all that for one year, Selina!" + +"Not possible?" repeated Mrs. Dalrymple. "Some of my friends spend +double--treble--four times what I do." + +"And so their example led you on?" cried Alice, presently, waking up +from a whirlpool of thought. + +"Something led me on. If one is in the world, one must dress." + +"No, Selina: not as you have done. Not to ruin. If people have only a +small income they dress accordingly." + +"And make a sight of themselves. I don't choose to." + +"Better that, and have peace of mind," remarked Alice. + +"Peace of mind! Oh, I don't know where that is to be found nowadays." + +"I hope you will find it, Selina. How much do you say you owe?" + +"There's four thousand to Damereau, and----" + +"Who is Damereau?" + +"Goodness me, Alice; if you never did spend a season in town, you +ought to know who she is, without asking. Madame Damereau's the great +milliner and dressmaker; every one goes to her." + +"I remember now. Lady Sarah has her things elsewhere." + +"Then I owe for India shawls, and lace, and jewels, and furs and +things. I owe six thousand pounds if I owe a farthing." + +"What a sum!" echoed Alice, aghast. "Six thousand pounds!" + +"Ay, you may well repeat it! Which of the queens was it who said that +when she died the name of Calais would be found engraven on her heart? +Mary, I think. Were I to die, those two words, 'six thousand,' would +be found engraven on mine. They are never absent from me. I see +them written up in figures in my dreams; I see them always; in the +ball-room, at the opera, in the park they are buzzing in my ears; when +I wake from my troubled sleep they come rushing over me, and I start +from my bed to escape them. I am not at all sure that it won't turn +out to be seven thousand," candidly added Mrs. Dalrymple. + +"You must have dressed in silver and gold," said poor Alice. + +"No: only in things that cost it: such things as these," said Mrs. +Dalrymple, pulling at her bonnet with both hands in irritation so +passionate that it was torn in two. + +"Oh, pray! pray!" Alice interposed, but too late to prevent the +catastrophe. "Your beautiful bonnet! Selina, it must have cost three or +four guineas. What a waste!" + +"Tush!" peevishly replied Mrs. Dalrymple, flinging the wrecks to the +middle of the room. "A bonnet more or less--what does it matter?" + +Alice sat in thought; looking very pained, very perplexed. + +"It appears to me that you are on a wrong course altogether, Selina. +The past is past; but you might strive to redeem it." + +"Strive against a whirlpool," sarcastically responded Selina. + +"You are getting deeper into it: by your own admission, you are having +new things every day. It is adding fuel to fire." + +"I can't go naked." + +"But you must have a large stock of dresses by you." + +"Do you think I would appear in last year's things? I can't and I +won't. You do not understand these matters, Alice." + +"Then you ought not to 'appear' at all. You should have stopped at the +Grange." + +"As good be in a nunnery. Once you have been initiated into the +delights of a London season, you can only come back to it. Fancy my +stopping at that mouldy old Grange." + +"What is to be the end of all this?" lamented Alice. + +"Ah, that's it! The End. One does not know, you see, how soon it may +come. I'd not so much mind if I could get all the season first. The +torment of it is, that Damereau is pressing for payment. She is +throwing out hints that she can't supply me any longer on credit--and +what on earth am I to do if she won't? What a shame it is that there +should be so much worry in the world!" + +"The greatest portion of it is of our own creating, Selina. And no +worry ought to have the power very seriously to disturb our peace," +the younger sister continued, in a whisper. + +"Now, Alice, you are going to bring up some of those religious notions +of yours! They will be lost upon me. One cannot have one's body in +this world and one's heart in the next." + +"Oh yes, we can," said Alice, earnestly. + +"Well, I don't suppose I am going into the next yet, unless I torment +myself out of this one; so don't go on about it," was Selina's +graceless reply. But as Alice rose to leave, her mood changed. + +"Forgive my fractiousness, Alice; indeed, you would excuse it, if you +only knew how bothered and miserable I am. It makes me cross with +myself and with other people." + +"Ma'am," interrupted Ann, Mrs. Dalrymple's maid, "Lady Burnham is at +the door, waiting for you." + +"I am not going out today," answered her mistress, rising. "I have +changed my mind." + +"Oh, my patience!" uttered the maid. "What's this? Why, ma'am, it's +never your bonnet?" + +No man is a hero to his valet-de-chambre: I fear the same may be said +of woman. "Bother the bonnet," was the undignified reply of Mrs. +Dalrymple, as she flirted the pieces further away with her foot. Ann +humbly followed them to the far-off corner, and there took them into +her hands. "Reach me another bonnet," said her mistress; "I think I +will go, after all. What's the use of staying indoors?" + +"Which bonnet, ma'am?" + +"Oh, I don't know! Bring some out." + +An array of bonnets, new and costly, were displayed for Mrs. +Dalrymple's difficult choice. Alice, to whom all this was as a +revelation, took her departure with uplifted hands and a shrinking +heart. + +Mrs. Dalrymple went downstairs, and took her seat in Lady Burnham's +carriage. The latter, an extremely wealthy woman, full of pleasurable +excitement, imparted some particulars she had learnt of the marriage +festivities about to be held in a family of their acquaintance, to +which they were both invited. Lady Burnham was then on her road to +Damereau's to order a suitable toilette for it--one that would eclipse +everybody's but the bride's. Selina, in listening, forgot her cares: +when carried out of herself by the excitement of preparing for these +pomps and vanities, she generally did so forget. But only then. In the +enacting of the pomps and vanities themselves, when they were before +her in all their glory, and she made one of the bedizened crowd, her +nightmare would return to her; the skeleton in the closet would at +those festive times, be exceeding prominent and bare. The reader may +be a philosopher, a grave old F.R.S., very learned in searching out +cause and effect, and so be able to account for this. I am not. + +Selina's mouth watered as she listened to Lady Burnham's description +of what she meant to wear at the wedding, and what she recommended to +Selina: and the carriage stopped at Madame Damereau's. Mrs. +Dalrymple's orders were quite moderate today--only amounting to about +ninety pounds. + +Was she quite silly? the reader will ask. Well, not more so than many +another thoughtless woman. + +Madame Damereau took the order as politely and carefully as though +Mrs. Oscar Dalrymple had been made of bank notes and gold. She knew +better manners--and better policy, too--than to make any objection +before others of her clientèle. But that same evening, when Selina was +dressing, she was told that a lady who gave the name of Cooper wished +to see her. Selina knew that there was a Mrs. Cooper in the +establishment of Madame Damereau, a partner, she fancied, or +book-keeper; something of that sort. She had seen her once or twice; a +lady-like woman, who had been reduced. + +"Let Mrs. Cooper come up here," she said to the maid. And Mrs. Cooper +entered the bedroom. + +"I come from Madame Damereau's," she began, taking the chair that +Selina pointed to. "She hopes----" + +"For goodness' sake, speak low!" interrupted Selina, in ill-concealed +terror. "Mr. Dalrymple is only in his dressing-room, and I do not wish +him to hear all my private affairs. These London walls are thin. She +wants money, I suppose." + +"She hopes, madam, that you will make it convenient to let her have +some," said Mrs. Cooper, sinking her voice to a whisper. "If it were +only a few hundred pounds," she said. "That is trifling compared with +the whole sum, which amounts now to----" + +"Oh, I know what it amounts to; I can guess it near enough," hastily +interposed Mrs. Dalrymple. "In the course of a week or two I will see +what I can do." + +Poor Selina, at her wits' end for excuses, had said "in the course of +a week or two" so many times now, that Madame Damereau was tired of +hearing the phrase. + +Mrs. Cooper hesitated, not much liking her errand. "She bade me say, +madam, that she was extremely sorry to cause inconvenience, but that +she cannot execute the order you gave today unless she previously +receives some money." + +"Not execute it!" repeated Selina, with flashing eyes. "What do you +mean by saying such a thing to me?" + +"Madam, I am but the agent of Madame Damereau. I can only speak as she +bids me." + +"True," answered Selina, softening; "it is not your fault. But I must +have the things. You will get them for me, will you not?" she said, in +an accent of entreaty, feeling that she was speaking to a gentlewoman, +although one who but held a situation at a milliner's. "Oh, pray use +your influence; get her to let me have them." + +Mrs. Cooper stood in distress, for hers was one of those refined +natures that cannot bear to cause or to witness pain. + +"If it depended upon me, indeed you should have them," she answered, +"but I have no influence of that sort with Madame Damereau. She would +not allow the slightest interference between her and her ladies: were +I to attempt it, I might lose my place in her house, and be turned out +again to struggle with the world." + +"Has it been a harsh world to you?" inquired Selina, pityingly. + +"Oh yes," was Mrs. Cooper's answer, "or I should not be where I am +now. And I am thankful to be there," she hastily added: "I would not +seem ungrateful for the mercy that has followed me in my misfortunes." + +"I think misfortunes are the lot of all," spoke Selina. "What can I do +to induce Madame Damereau to furnish me with these things?" + +"Perhaps you had better call and see her yourself, madam," replied +Mrs. Cooper, relapsing into her ostensible position. "I will try and +say a word to her tonight that may prepare her. She has a good +heart." + +"I will see her tomorrow. Thank you," replied Mrs. Dalrymple, ringing +for Mrs. Cooper to be shown out. + +Selina finished dressing, and went forth to the evening's gaiety with +what spirits she had. Once plunged into the gay scene, she forgot care +and was merry as the merriest there. Her husband had never seen her +face brighter. + +On the following day, Selina proceeded to Madame Damereau's at an +early hour, before any of the other clientèle would be likely to +appear. But the interview, although Mrs. Cooper had said as much as +she dared, was not productive of good. Madame had gradually learnt the +true position of Oscar Dalrymple, that he was a very poor man, instead +of a rich one; she feared she might have trouble over her account, and +was obstinate and obdurate. Not exactly insolent: she was never that, +to her customers' faces: but she and Mrs. Dalrymple both lost temper, +and the latter was impolitic enough to say some cutting things, not +only in disparagement of madame's goods, but about the "cheating +prices" she had been charged. Madame Damereau's face turned green, and +the interview ended by her stating that if some money was not +immediately furnished her, she should sue Mr. Dalrymple for the whole. +Selina went away sick at heart; for she read determination on the +incensed lips of the Frenchwoman. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. +LADY ADELA. + + +"How sly Mary has been!" + +The above exclamation spoken by Lady Adela Grubb in a sort of +resentful tone, as she read a letter while sipping her coffee, +caused her husband to look up. He sat at the opposite end of the +breakfast-table, attractive with its silver and flowers and its +beautiful Worcester china. + +"Are you speaking of your sister Mary?" he asked. "What has she done?" + +Any answer to this question Lady Adela did not condescend to give. +Unless the tossing of the letter across the table to him could be +called one--and she did it with a gesture of scorn. The letter, a +short one, came from Miss Upton, of Court Netherleigh. + + +"My DEAR ADELA, + +"I have a little business to transact in London tomorrow, and will +take luncheon with you at one o'clock, if quite convenient. Tell your +husband, with my kind regards, that I hope to see him also--if he can +spare an hour from that exacting place of his, Leadenhall Street. So I +am to have your sister Mary as a neighbour, after all! + +"Your sincere friend, + +"MARGERY UPTON." + + +"Which means, I presume, that Mary is to marry Cleveland," remarked +Mr. Grubb, as he read the concluding sentence. + +"Stupid thing! I told her, weeks ago, she was flirting with him." + +"Nay, not flirting, Adela. Cleveland is not capable of that." + +Adela tossed her head. How lovely she looked! fair as the fresh summer +morning. + +"She was flirting, though. And he would flirt, if he were not too old. +Parsons, as a rule, flirt more than laymen. She must be hard up for a +husband to take him. He has a houseful of children!" + +"I dare say she likes him," said Mr. Grubb. + +"Oh, nonsense! One only point can be urged in his favour--that he is a +patrician." + +"That he is what?" cried Mr. Grubb, who was drinking his coffee at the +moment, and did not hear the word. + +"A patrician. Not a plebeian." + +The offensive stress laid by Adela on the last word, the marked scorn +sitting on her lips, brought a flush to her husband's brow. Nothing +seemed to afford her so much gratification as to throw out these +lance-shafts to Mr. Grubb, on what she was pleased to term his +plebeian origin. + +"Do you wish for more coffee?" she asked ungraciously. + +"No. I have not time for it. I must make the best of my way into the +City, if I am to get back to luncheon." + +"There is not the least necessity for you to get back," was her +slighting remark. "You will not be missed, if you don't come." + +"By yourself, no. I am aware of that. But I do not care to be so +lacking in common courtesy as to disregard the express wish of Miss +Upton." + +"She may have expressed it out of mere politeness." + +"Miss Upton is not one to express a wish out of mere politeness," +replied Mr. Grubb, as he gathered up some papers of his that were by +the side of his plate. "Besides, I shall like to see her." + +Approaching his wife, who had taken up the _Morning Post_, he stood +over her. "Good-bye, Adela," he said; and bent to kiss her cheek. + +"Oh, good-bye," she retorted in curt tones, and jerked her cheek away +from his very lips. + +He went away with a suppressed sigh. This line of treatment had been +dealt out to him by her so long now that he had become inured to it. +It was none the less bitter for that. + +Adela, dropping the newspaper and picking up a rose from one of the +glasses on the breakfast-table, went to the window to see whether it +looked very hot, for she wanted to walk to her mother's and hear about +Mary's contemplated marriage. She saw her husband cross the square. +For some reason he was crossing it on foot, his close carriage slowly +following him: on very hot days he rarely used an open one. What a +fine, noble-looking man he was! what a face of goodness and beauty was +his!--how few could compare with him. At odd moments this would even +strike Adela; it struck her now; and a flash of something like pride +in him darted into her heart. + +Ah! she saw now why he had walked across the square instead of getting +into his carriage at the door: her father was advancing towards him. +The two met, shook hands, stood for a few moments talking, and then +Lord Acorn put his arm within his son-in-law's, and they turned the +corner together. + +"Papa wants more money of him," thought Adela. "It's rather too bad, I +must say. But that Leadenhall Street is just a mine of wealth." + +For, now and again, ever since the marriage, Lord Acorn had come with +his troubles and embarrassments to Mr. Grubb, who seldom refused to +assist him. + +As the clock was striking one that day, they sat down to lunch: Miss +Upton, who had just arrived, Mr. Grubb, and Lady Adela. Miss Upton +never took the meal later if she could help it. Indeed, at home she +took it at twelve. Her breakfast hour was eight precisely, and by +twelve she was ready for luncheon. Lady Acorn came in as they were +sitting down, threw her bonnet on a chair, and sat down with them. +Hearing that Miss Upton would be there, she had come, uninvited, to +meet her. + +"How early you went out, mamma!" cried Adela, in rather an aggrieved +tone. For, when she reached Chenevix House that morning, she found her +mother and sisters had already left it: so that she had heard no +particulars at all about Lady Mary's proposed wedding, not even +whether there was certainly to be one, and Adela had her curiosity +upon the subject. + +"We went shopping," answered Lady Acorn. "One likes to do that before +the heat of the day comes on. Do you know that Mr. Cleveland is going +to marry again, Margery?" she added abruptly, looking across the table +at Miss Upton. + +"Yes, I know it. He came to the Court yesterday morning to tell me of +it. I think Mary will make him a good wife." + +"She has courage," said Mr. Grubb, with a pleasant laugh. "How many +children are there? Ten?" + +"No. Eight. And they are of all ages; from seven, up to +four-and-twenty," added Miss Upton. + +Lady Acorn was nodding her head, in emphatic acquiescence to Mr. +Grubb's remark. "I told Mary she had the courage of Job, when the +thing first came to my ears. Eight children and a poor country Rector! +Young women are ready to marry a broomstick when they get to Mary's +age, if the chance falls in their way." + +"Had Job so much courage, mamma?" put in Adela. + +"Courage or patience, or some such virtue. It is not I that would have +taken an old widower with a flock of young ones," continued the +countess, in her plain-speaking tartness. + +"You will get rid of us all in time, mamma," observed Adela. + +"It entails trouble enough," was her mother's ungracious rejoinder. "I +am quite done over with heat and fatigue now--going about from one +place to another after Mary's things. Gowns and bonnets and slips and +mantles, and all the rest of it! Girls are so exacting when they are +going to marry: they must have this, and they must have that, and Mary +is no exception to the rule. One would think she had picked up a +duke." + +"It is natural they should be," observed Miss Upton. + +"But it's not the less ridiculous," retorted the countess. "One thing +I must say--that Tom Cleveland is showing himself in desperate haste +to take another wife." + +"The haste is for his children's sake," said Miss Upton; "be very sure +of that, Betsy. 'I must have some one to control and train them; since +my poor wife's death the girls have run wild,' he said to me +yesterday, when he told me about Mary, and the tears were almost +running down his cheeks." + +"It is a great charge," spoke Mr. Grubb. "I mean for Lady Mary." + +"It is," acquiesced Miss Upton. "But I hope--I think--she will be +found equal to it, and will prove a good stepmother. That she +understands the responsibility she is undertaking, and has counted the +cost, I am sure of, by what she said in a long letter I received from +her this morning." + +"It is to be hoped she will have no children of her own," struck in +Lady Acorn. "Many a woman makes a good stepmother until her own babies +come. After that----" + +"After that--what?" asked Miss Upton, for Lady Acorn had stopped +abruptly. + +"After that, she thinks of her own children and not of the first +wife's. And sometimes the poor things get hardly dealt by." + +"And when is the wedding-day to be?" asked Adela. + +"The day after twelve months shall have elapsed since the death of the +first Mrs. Cleveland; or in as short a time subsequent to that day as +may be convenient to me and the milliners," laughed Lady Acorn. + +"That will make it some time in August, mamma?" + +"Yes, in August." + +"Adela, you must give them a substantial present--something worth +having," said Mr. Grubb to his wife. + +"Is Damereau to furnish the wedding-dresses?" questioned Adela, +ignoring her husband's remark rather too pointedly, and addressing her +mother. + +"Damereau!" shrieked the countess. "Not if I know it. We have been to +plain Mrs. Wilson. Damereau gets dearer every day. She is all very +well for those who have a long purse: mine's a short one." + +At the close of the luncheon, Miss Upton said she must take her +departure: she had commissions to do. A fly waited for her at the +door. + +"You should use one of Adela's carriages," said Mr. Grubb, as he took +her down to it. + +"Ah, thank you; I know you and she would lend it to me with hearty +goodwill; but I like, you see, to be independent," was Miss Upton's +answer. "I have employed the same fly and the same man for years. When +I am coming to London, I write to him previously, and he holds himself +at my service for the day." + +"Is there anything I can do for you?" asked Mr. Grubb, as he placed +her comfortably in the closed fly. + +"Nothing. Unless you will get in and ride a little way with me. I am +going first to a shop in the Strand. Perhaps you can't spare the +time." + +"Indeed I can," he answered, stepping in and taking the seat facing +her. "The Strand will be all in my way to Leadenhall Street." + +They had not seen much of one another, and yet they were intimate, for +each liked the other. Mr. Grubb had paid one short visit to Court +Netherleigh with his wife; it was in the first year of his marriage, +and they stayed three days. Miss Upton called on them sometimes when +she came to town, perhaps once or twice a-year; and that was all. + +"You were saying something to Adela about giving a present to her +sister," began Miss Upton, as they ambled along. "I take it that you +were sincere." + +"Indeed I was. I should like to give them something that will be +useful--regardless of cost," he added, with a smile. "Can you suggest +anything?" + +"I can. A little open-carriage and pony--if you would like to go as +far as that. Mary will want it badly. The old pony-carriage used by Mrs. +Cleveland all her married life to get about the straggling parish in, +is the most worn, ramshackle thing now you ever saw; it will hardly +hold together. And the poor pony is on its last legs." + +"They shall have a new one. Thank you for telling me," added Mr. +Grubb, with a sunny smile. + +"And I dare say you wonder why I can't give them this thing myself," +resumed Miss Upton; "but the truth is--don't laugh--I am refurnishing +the house, and I don't like to do too much. It would look +ostentatious, patronizing, and Cleveland would feel it so in his +heart. I had a rare battle with him about the furniture, when I told +him what I meant to do; I had already, in fact, given orders for it. +'You cannot bring Lady Mary home to that shabby dining and +drawing-room of yours,' I said to him yesterday. 'I fear I can't +afford to have them renewed,' he answered me, his face taking a long +look. 'Of course you can't,' I said, 'whoever heard of a parson who +could; I mean to do it myself.' Well, then we had a fight. Mary had +seen the walls and the rooms and knew what they were, he maintained. +Upon which I cut short the argument by saying the orders were already +given, and the workmen ready to go in. I had seen for a month or two +past, you must understand, Francis, how matters were going between him +and Mary Chenevix." + +Miss Upton broke off with a short laugh. "The idea of my calling you +Francis!" she exclaimed. "Will you forgive me?" + +"_Forgive_ you! Dear Miss Upton, if you only know how pleasant to me +the name sounds from your lips!" + +"When I think of you it is generally as _Francis_ Grubb, and so it +escaped me. Well, then, you will give them this new pony and +carriage?" + +"I will. And thank you sincerely for suggesting it." + +"Does Adela make you a good wife yet?" cried Miss Upton, fixing her +keen eyes upon him. And Francis Grubb, at the abrupt query, grew red +to the very roots of his waving hair. + +"Is she becoming affectionate to you, as a gracious wife should be?" +pursued Miss Margery, for he did not answer. + +"I do not complain of my wife; please understand that, Miss Upton." + +"Quite right of you not to. But I believe I understand rather more +than appears on the surface; have understood for some time past. I +gave her a lecture when I was last here. I did, indeed; though you may +not suppose it." + +He smiled. A poor smile at best. Margery Upton leaned forward and put +her hand upon his hand, that lay on his knee. + +"There is only one thing for it--patience. Bear quietly. Adela used to +be a sweet girl! I think she has a good heart, and what evil spirit has +taken possession of her I cannot conceive. I think things will work +round in time, even as you could desire them." + +"Ay!" + +"And, for the present, I say, keep up a good heart--and bear. It is my +best advice to you." + +He took her hand within both his, and pressed it fervently, making no +further reply. And just then the fly pulled up in the Strand. + +"I have not asked about your mother," said Miss Upton, as he stood at +the door to say farewell after getting out. + +"She is pretty well, now." + +"And your sister? Does she get over that wretched business of Robert +Dalrymple's?" + +"Of course--in a degree. Time softens most things. But she will never +forget him." + +He shook hands finally with Miss Upton; he walked on to his house in +Leadenhall Street, his step flagging, his heart weary. Entering his +own private room, he found two ladies within it. His mother, who was +seated in the most easy chair the room afforded; and his sister. Mrs. +Lynn was a tall, dignified, upright woman still: her beautiful grey +eyes were just like his own, her refined countenance, sickly now, bore +yet its marks of unusual intellect. + +"Mother!" he exclaimed, in surprise. "How glad I am to see you!" + +"I drove up to the Bank upon a little matter of business, and came on +to see you after it was transacted," she explained, as he kissed her. +"It is unusual to find you out at this time of day, Francis; but the +clerks thought you would be in soon, and I waited. I am glad of the +rest; the journey has so tired me." + +"Why will you not let me do your matters of business for you, mother?" +he tenderly asked, as he busied himself to get a glass of wine for her +and some biscuits. + +"Because so long as I _can_ do things for myself, I like to do them," +she answered, "and my old-fashioned chariot is an easy one: I do not +care to become quite the incapable old woman before the necessity for +it inevitably sets in. And now, how is it with yourself, Francis? Your +brow wore a troubled look as you entered." + +Never did Francis Grubb give a more genial smile than now. Not even to +his mother would he willingly show his care. "It is quite well with +me," he laughed; "well and flourishing. Take your wine, mother." + +"Your wife?" whispered Mrs. Lynn, in a tone of doubt--of pain. "Is +she--more friendly?" + +"Oh, we are friendly enough--quite so," he lightly answered, angry +with himself for not being able to suppress the flush that rose at the +question. "Is that a new dress you have on, Mary? It is marvellously +pretty." + +"If her child had only lived!" sighed Mrs. Lynn, alluding to Lady +Adela. + +"Quite new; new on today; and I am very glad you admire it," gaily +answered Mary, as she spread out the dress with both hands, and turned +herself about on her brother's dull red carpet for inspection. She was +as thankful to drown the other subject as he was: she knew, unhappily, +more about it than her mother. "I am going out on a visit, so of +course I must have some pretty things." + +"Going where?" + +"To Lawn Cottage, at Netherleigh. Mrs. Dalrymple wants me--she is +lonely there. I can only spare her a week, though: it will not do to +leave mamma for longer. Alice is at Lady Sarah Hope's, you know, and +Selina is in town, the gayest of the gay." + +"Rather too gay, I fancy," remarked Mr. Grubb. "Mother," he added, +turning from his sister, "I have just left your friend of early +life--Miss Upton. She inquired after you." + +"Very good of her!" retorted Mrs. Lynn, proudly and stiffly. "I do not +care to be spoken to of Margery Upton, as you know, Francis. She--and +others--voluntarily severed all connection between us in those early +years. It pained me more than you, or any one else, will ever know; +but it is over and done with, and I do not willingly recall it, or +them, to my memory." + +Ah! that separation might have brought keen pain to Mrs. Lynn in early +days, but not so cruelly keen as the pain something else was bringing +to her son in these later ones. As Francis Grubb, his visitors +departed, took his place at his desk, and strove to apply his mind to +his business, he found it a difficult task. Twice today had his +wife's behaviour to him been remarked upon--by Miss Upton and by his +mother. Was it, could it be the fact, that the unhappiness of his +home, the miserable relations obtaining between himself and his wife, +had become patent to the world? The draught had already been rising to +a pretty good height in his cup of bitterness; this would fill it to +the brim. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. +THE DAY OF RECKONING. + + +The hum of the busy London world came floating drowsily in through a +bedroom window in Berkeley Street, open to the hot and brilliant +summer day, and falling, unnoticed, upon the ears of Mrs. Oscar +Dalrymple. + +"What an idiot I have been!" soliloquized she. "And what a cat that +Damereau is!" + +The above pretty speech--not at all suitable for pretty lips--was +given vent to by Selina on her return from that morning visit to her +milliner, when the latter had wholly refused to listen to reason, and +both had lost their courtesy. + +Her dainty bonnet tossed on the bed, her little black lace mantle on +the back of her low dressing-chair, Selina, who had come straight +home, swayed herself backwards and forwards in the said chair, as she +mentally ran over the items of the keen words just exchanged between +herself and madame, and wondered what in the world she was to do. + +"If I had only kept my temper!" she thought, in self-reproach. "It was +always a fault of mine to be quick and fiery--like poor Robert. +Nothing but that made her so angry. What on earth would become of me +if she should do as she says--send the account to Oscar?" + +Selina started up at the thought. Calmly equable to a rather +remarkable degree in general, she was one of the most restless of +human beings when she did give way to excitement. Just as Robert had +been. + +"If he had but lived!" she cried, tears filling her eyes as her +thoughts reverted to her brother, "I'd have taken this trouble to him +and he would have settled it. Robert was generous!" + +But Selina quite forgot to recall the fact that her brother's income, +at the best, would not have been larger than her husband's was. Not +quite as large, indeed, for Oscar had his own small patrimony of six +or seven hundred a-year in addition. Just now she could not be +expected to remember common sense. + +The Dalrymples had a distant cousin, a merchant, or cotton-broker, or +something of the kind, residing in Liverpool, who was supposed to be +fabulously rich. He had quarrelled with the family long ago, and was +looked upon as no better than an ill-natured, growling bear. An idea +had come into Selina's brain lately--what if she wrote to tell him her +position and beg a little money from his rich coffers to set her +straight? It came to her again now, as she sat there. But, no that +ungenial man was known to hold unseemly debt and extravagance of all +kinds in especial abhorrence. He would only write her a condemnatory +answer; perhaps even re-enclose her begging letter to Oscar! Selina +started from the thought, and put away for ever all notion of aid from +Benjamin Dalrymple. + +"How is this woman to be pacified?" she resumed, her reflections +reverting to Madame Damereau. "What a simpleton I was to provoke her! +Two or three hundred pounds might do it for the present. Where am I to +get them? If she carries out this dreadful threat and appeals to +Oscar, what should I do? What _could_ I do? And all the world would +know---- Oh!" she shivered, "I must stop that. _I_ must get some from +him, if I can. I will try at once. Ugh; what a calamity the want of +money is!" + +She descended the stairs and entered the dining-room, where her +husband was. He sat at the table writing letters, and seemed to be in +the midst of business accounts. + +"Oscar!" + +He looked up. "What is it?" + +"Oscar," she said, advancing close to him, "can you, please, let me +have a little money?" + +"No, that I can't, Selina. I am settling up a few payments now, and +can only do it by halves. Others I am writing to put off entirely for +the present." + +He had bent over his writing again, as if the question, being +answered, was done with. + +"Oscar, I must have it." + +"What money do you mean? Some for housekeeping. I can let you have +that." + +"No, no: for myself. I want--I want--two hundred pounds," she said, +jerking it out. She did not dare to say three; her courage failed her. + +He put down the pen and turned towards her in displeasure. "Selina, I +told you before we came to town that I could not have these calls made +upon me, as I had last year. You know how very small our income is, +and you know that your extravagance has already crippled it. The +allowance I make you is greater than I can afford. I cannot give you +more." + +"Oh, Oscar, I must have it," she exclaimed in excitement, terrified at +the aspect her situation presented to her, for her mind was apt to be +imaginative. "Indeed, I must--even at an inconvenience. Only two +hundred pounds!" + +"To squander away in folly?" + +"No. If it were only to squander away, I might do without it; and I +cannot do without this." + +Mr. Dalrymple looked keenly at her, and she turned from his gaze. "Let +me know what you want it for, that I may judge of the necessity you +speak of. If it is not convenient to you to tell me, Selina, you must +be satisfied with my refusal." + +"Well, then," she said, seeing no help for the avowal, "I owe it." + +"Owe it! Owe two hundred pounds! _You!_" + +So utter was his astonishment, so blank his dismay, that Selina's +heart failed her. If her owing two hundred pounds thus impressed him, +what would become of her when he learnt the whole truth! + +"And I am pressed for it," she faintly added. "_Please_ let me have +it, Oscar." + +"What have you gone in debt for?" + +"Various things," she answered, not caring to avow particulars. But he +looked steadfastly at her, waiting for the truth. "Dress." + +"The compact between us was that you should not run into debt," he +said, in severe tones; "you promised to make your allowance do. You +have behaved ill to me, Selina." + +She bent her head, feeling that she had. Oh, feeling it terribly just +then. + +"Is this all you owe? All?" + +"Y--es." But the falsehood, as falsehoods ought to, left a tremor on +her lips. + +Without speaking another word, he unsealed a paper in which were +enclosed some bank-notes, and handed several to her, to the amount of +two hundred pounds. "Understand me well, Selina, this must never occur +again," he said, in an impressive tone. "These notes had a different +and an urgent destination." + +"What a goose I was, not to ask for the other hundred!" was her mental +comment, as she escaped from the room. "It is not of the least use +offering Damereau two hundred: but she might take three. And where am +I to get it?" + +Where, indeed? Did the reader ever try when in extremity to borrow a +hundred pounds, or what not?--and does he remember how very hopeless a +cause it seemed when present before him? Just as it appeared now to +Selina Dalrymple. + +"I wonder whether Alice could lend it to me?" she cried, swaying her +foot helplessly as she sat in the low chair. "It's not in the least +likely, but I might ask her. Who's this?" + +The "Who's this," applied to a footstep on the stairs. It was her +husband's. Some tiresome, troublesome old man of their acquaintance +had come up from Netherleigh, and Oscar wanted his wife to help +entertain him. Remembering the two hundred pounds just procured from +Oscar she did not like to refuse, and went down. + +They dined, to accommodate this gentleman, at what Selina called an +unearthly hour--four o'clock; and it was evening before she could +get to Lady Sarah Hope's. Alice, looking ill, was alone in the +drawing-room, having begged to be excused going down to dinner. On a +table in the back room lay some of Lady Sarah's jewels; valuable gems. +Selina privately wished they were hers. She had to take her departure +as she came, for Alice could not help her. A curiously mysterious +matter connected with these jewels has to be related. It ought to come +in here; but it may be better to defer it, not to interfere with the +sequence of events connected with this chapter. + +Nothing further could be done that evening, and Selina went to rest +betimes--eleven o'clock--disappointing two or three entertainments +that were languishing for her presence: but she had no heart that +night. + +To rest! It was a mockery of the word, for she had become thoroughly +frightened. She passed the night turning and tossing from side to +side; and when morning came, and she arose, it was with trembling +limbs and a fevered brain. + +Her whole anxiety was to make up this money, three hundred pounds; +hoping that it would prove a stop-gap for the milliner, and stave off +that dreaded threat of application to Oscar. What was to come +afterwards, and how in the world further stop-gaps would be supplied, +she did not now glance at. That evil seemed a hundred miles off, +compared with this one. + +A faint idea had been looming through her mind; possibly led to by +what she had seen at Lady Sarah Hope's. At the commencement it had +neither shape nor form, but by midday it had acquired one, and was +entertained. She had heard of such things as pledging jewels: she was +sure she had heard that even noble ladies, driven to a pinch, so +disposed of them. Mrs. Dalrymple locked her bedroom door, reached out +her ornaments, and laid them in a heap on the bed. + +She began to estimate their value: what they had cost to buy, as +nearly as she could remember and judge, amounted to fully five hundred +pounds. They were not paid for, but that was nothing. She supposed she +might be able to borrow four hundred upon them: and she decided to do +it. Some few, others, had belonged to her mother. Then, if that +cormorant of a French marchande de modes refused to be pacified with a +small sum, she should have a larger one to offer her. Yes, and get the +things for the wedding-breakfast besides. + +The relief this determination brought to the superficial mind of +Selina Dalrymple, few, never reduced to a similar strait, can picture. +It almost removed her weight of care. The task of pledging them would +not be a pleasant one, but she must go through with it. The glittering +trinkets were still upon the bed when some one knocked at the +room-door. It was only her maid, come to say that Miss Alice was +below. Selina grew scared and terrified; for a troubled conscience +sees shadows where no shadows are, and hers whispered that curious +eyes, looking on those ornaments, must divine what she meant to do +with them. With a hasty hand she threw a dress upon the bed, and then +another on the first, and then a heavy one over all, before unbolting +the door. The glittering jewels were hidden now. + + +Oscar Dalrymple was thinking profoundly as he sat over his +after-dinner wine--not that he ever took much--and the street-lamps +were lighted, when a figure, looking as little like Mrs. Dalrymple as +possible, stole out of the house; stole stealthily, and closed the +door stealthily behind her, so that neither master nor servant should +hear it. She had ransacked her wardrobe for a plain gown and dark +shawl, and her straw bonnet might have served as a model for a +Quaker's. She had been out in the afternoon, and marked the place she +meant to go to. A renowned establishment in its line, and respectable; +even Selina knew that. She hurried along the streets, not unlike a +criminal; had she been going to rob the warerooms of their jewels, +instead of offering some to add to their hidden store, she could not +have felt more guilty. When she reached the place she could not make +up her mind to enter: she took a turn or two in front, she glanced in +at its door, at the window crowded with goods. She had never been in a +pawnbroker's in her life, and her ideas of its customers were vague: +comprising gentlewomen in distress, gliding in as she was; tipsy men +carrying their watches in their hand; poor objects out of work, in +dilapidated shirt-sleeves; and half-starved women with pillows and +flat-irons. It looked quiet, inside; so far as she could see there did +not appear to be a soul. With a desperate effort of resolution she +went in. + +She stood at the counter, the chief part of the shop being hidden from +her. A dark man came forward. + +"What can we do for you, ma'am?" + +"Are you the master?" inquired Selina. + +"No." + +"I wish to see him." + +Another presently appeared: a respectable-looking, well-dressed man, +of good manners. + +"I am in temporary need of a little money, and wish to borrow some +upon my jewels," began Mrs. Dalrymple, in a hoarse whisper; and she +was really so agitated as scarcely to know what she said. + +"Are they of value?" he inquired. + +"Some hundreds of pounds. I have them with me." + +He requested her to walk into a private room, and placed a chair. She +sat down and laid the jewels on the table. He examined them in +silence, one after another, not speaking until he had gone through the +whole. + +"What did you wish to borrow on them?" + +"As much as I can," replied Mrs. Dalrymple. "I thought about four +hundred pounds." + +"Four hundred pounds!" echoed the pawnbroker. "Madam, they are not +worth, for this purpose, more than a quarter of the money." + +She stared at him in astonishment. "They are real." + +"Oh yes. Otherwise, they would not, to us, be worth so many pence." + +"Many of them are new within twelve months," urged Selina. +"Altogether, they cost more than five hundred pounds." + +"To buy. But they are not worth much to pledge. The fashion of these +ornaments changes with every season: and that, for one thing, +diminishes their value." + +"What could you lend me on them?" + +"One hundred pounds." + +"Absurd!" returned Mrs. Dalrymple, her cheeks flushing. "Why, that one +set of amethysts alone cost more. I could not let them go for that. +One hundred would be of no use to me." + +"Madam, it is entirely at your option, and I assure you I do not press +it," he answered, with respectful courtesy. "We care little about +taking these things in; so many are brought to us now, that our sales +are glutted with them." + +"You will not be called upon to sell these. I shall redeem them." + +The jeweller did not answer. He could have told her that never an +article, from a service of gold plate to a pair of boy's boots, was +pledged to him yet, but it was quite sure to be redeemed--in +intention. + +"Are you aware that a great many ladies, even of high degree, now wear +false jewellery?" he resumed. + +"No, indeed," she returned. "Neither should I believe it." + +"Nevertheless, it is so. And the chief reason is the one I have just +mentioned: that in the present day the rage for ornaments is so great, +and the fashion of them so continually changing, that to be in the +fashion, a lady must spend a fortune in ornaments alone. I give you my +word, madam, that in the fashionable world a great deal of the +jewellery now worn is false; though it may pass, there, unsuspected. +And this fact deteriorates from the value of real stones, especially +for the purpose of pledging." + +He began, as he spoke, to put the articles into their cases again, as +if the negotiation were at an end. + +"Can you lend me two hundred pounds upon them?" asked Mrs. Dalrymple, +after a blank pause. + +He shook his head. "I can advance you what I have stated, if you +please; not a pound more. And I feel sure you will not be able to +obtain more on them anywhere, madam, take them where you will." + +"But what am I to do?" returned she, betraying some excitement. Very +uselessly: but that room was no stranger to it. The jeweller was firm, +and Mrs. Dalrymple gathered up her ornaments, her first feeling of +despair lost in anger. She was leaving the room with her parcel when +it occurred to her to ask herself, in sober truth, WHAT she was to +do--how procure the remainder of the sum necessary to appease Madame +Damereau. She turned back, and finally left the shop without her +jewels, but with a hundred pounds in her pocket, and her understanding +considerably enlightened as to the relative value of a jewel to buy +and a jewel to pledge. + +Now it happened that, if Mrs. Dalrymple had repented showing her +temper to Madame Damereau, that renowned artiste had equally repented +showing hers to Mrs. Dalrymple. She feared it might tell against her +with her customers, if it came to be known: for she knew how popular +Selina was; truth to say, she liked her herself. Madame came to the +determination of paying Mrs. Dalrymple a visit, not exactly to +apologize, but to soothe away certain words. And to qualify the +pressing for some money, which she meant to do (whether she got it or +not), she intended to announce that the articles ordered for the +wedding festivities would be supplied. "It's only ninety pounds, more +or less," thought madame, "and I suppose I shall get the money some +time." + +She reached Mrs. Dalrymple's in the evening, soon after that lady had +departed on her secret expedition to the pawnbroker. Their London +lodgings were confined. The dining-room had Mr. Dalrymple in it, so +Madame Damereau was shown to the drawing-room, and the maid went +hunting about the house for her mistress. + +Whilst she was on her useless search, Mr. Dalrymple entered the +drawing-room, expecting to find it tenanted by his wife. Instead of +that, some strange lady sat there, who rose at his entrance, made him +a swimming curtsy, the like of which he had never seen in a ball-room, +and threw off some rapid sentences in an unknown tongue. + +His perplexed look stopped her. "Ah," she said, changing her language, +"Monsieur, I fear, does not speak the French. I have the honour, I +believe, of addressing Mr. Dalreemp. I am covered with contrition at +intruding at this evening hour, but I know that Mrs. Dalreemp is much +out in the day; I thought I might perhaps get speech of her as she was +dressing for some soirée." + +"Do you wish to see her? Have you seen her?" he asked. + +"I wait now to see her," replied madame. + +"Another of these milliner people, I suppose," thought Oscar to +himself, with not at all a polite word in connection with the +supposition. "Selina's mad to have the house beset with them; it's +like a swarm of flies. If she comes to town next year may I be shot!" + +"Ann! tell your mistress she is wanted," he called out, opening the +door. + +"I can't find my mistress, sir," said the servant, coming downstairs. +"I thought she must be in her own room, but she is not. I am sure she +is not gone out, because she said she meant to have a quiet evening at +home tonight, and she did not dress." + +"She is somewhere about," said Mr. Dalrymple. "Go and look for her." + +Madame Damereau had been coming to the rapid conclusion that this was +an opportunity she should do injustice to herself to omit using. And +as Mr. Dalrymple was about to leave her to herself, she stopped him. + +"Sir--pardon me--but now that I have the happiness to see you, I may +ask if you will not use your influence with Mrs. Dalreemp to think of +my account. She does promise so often, so often, and I get nothing. I +have my heavy payments to make, and sometimes I do not know where to +find the money: though, if you saw my books, your hairs would bristle, +sir, at the sums owing to me." + +"You are----?" + +"I am Madame Damereau. If Mrs. Dalreemp would but give me a few +hundred pounds off her bill, it would be something." + +A few hundred pounds! Oscar Dalrymple wondered what she meant. He +looked at her for some moments before he spoke. + +"What is the amount of my wife's debt to you, madame?" + +"Ah, it is---- But I cannot tell it you quite exactly: there are +recent items. The last note that went in to her was four thousand +three hundred and twenty-two pounds." + +He had an impassive face, rarely showing emotion. It had probably not +been moved to it half-a-dozen times in the course of his life. But now +his lips gradually drew into a straight thin line, and a red spot +shone in his cheek. + +"WHAT did you say? Do you speak of the account?" + +"It was four thousand three hundred and twenty-two pounds," equably +answered madame, who was not familiar with his countenance. "And there +have been a few trifles since, and her last order this week will come +to ninety pounds. If you wish for it exactly, sir," added madame, +seizing at an idea of hope, "I will have it sent to you when I go +home. Mrs. Dalreemp has the details up to very recently." + +"Four thousand pounds!" repeated Mr. Dalrymple, sitting down, in a +sort of helpless manner. "When could she have contracted it?" + +"Last season, sir, chiefly. A little in the winter she had sent down +to her, and she has had things this spring: not so many." + +He did not say more, save a mutter which madame could not catch. She +understood it to be that he would speak to Mrs. Dalrymple. The maid +returned, protesting that her mistress was not in the house and must +have changed her mind and gone out; and Madame Damereau, thinking she +might have gone out for the evening, and that it was of no use +waiting, made her adieu to Mr. Dalrymple, with the remarkable curtsy +more than once repeated. + +He was sitting there still, in the same position, when his wife +appeared. She had entered the house stealthily, as she had left it, +had taken off her things, and now came into the room ready for tea, as +if she had only been upstairs to wash her hands. Scarcely had she +reached the middle of the room, when he rose and laid his hand heavily +on her shoulder. His face, as she turned to him in alarm, with its +drawn aspect, its mingled pallor and hectic, was so changed that she +could hardly recognize it for his. + +"Oscar, you terrify me!" she cried out. + +"What debts are these that you owe?" he asked, from between his parted +lips. + +Was the dreaded moment come, then! A low moan escaped her. + +"Four thousand and some hundred pounds to Damereau, the milliner! How +much more to others?" + +"Oh, Oscar, if you look and speak like that, you will kill me." + +"I ask how much more?" he repeated, passing by her words as the idle +wind. "Tell me the truth, or I shall feel tempted to thrust you from +my home, and advertise you." + +She wished the carpet would open and let her in; she hid her face. +Oscar held her, and repeated the question: "How much?" + +"Six thousand pounds--in all--about that. Not more, I think." + +He released her then with a jerk. Selina began to cry like a +school-girl. + +"Are you prepared to go out and work for your living, as I must do?" +he panted. "I have nothing to keep you on, and shall not have for +years. If they throw me into a debtor's prison tomorrow, I cannot +help it." + +"Oh," shrieked silly Selina, "a prison! I'd go with you." + +"I might have expected something of this when I married into your +branch of the family," returned Oscar, who, in good truth, was nearly +beside himself. "A mania follows it. Your uncle gambled his means +away, and then took his own life; your father hampered himself with +his brother's debts, and remained poor; your brother followed in his +uncle's wake; and now the mania is upon you!" + +"Oh, please, Oscar, please!" pleaded Selina, who had no more depth of +feeling than a magpie, while Oscar had plenty of it. "I'll never, +never go in debt again." + +"You shall never have the chance," he answered. And, there and then, +Oscar Dalrymple, summoning his household, gave orders for their +removal to the Grange. Selina cried her eyes out at having to quit the +season and its attractions summarily. + +Thus, as a wreathing cloud suddenly appears in the sky, and as +suddenly fades sway, had Mrs. Dalrymple, like a bright vision, +appeared to the admiring eyes of the London world, and vanished from +it. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. +THE DIAMOND BRACELET. + + +But, as you have heard, there is something yet to relate of that hot +June day, or, rather, of its evening, when poor Selina Dalrymple had +applied for help, and unsuccessfully, to her sister Alice. + +The great world of London was beginning to think of dinner. In a +well-furnished dressing-room, the windows being open for air, and the +blinds drawn down to exclude the sun, stood a tall, stately lady, +whose maid was giving the last touch to her rich attire. It was Lady +Sarah Hope. + +"What bracelets, my lady?" asked the maid, taking a small bunch of +keys from her pocket. + +"Not any, now: it is so very hot. Alice," added Lady Sarah, turning to +Alice, who was leaning back on a sofa, "will you put all my bracelets +out for me against I come up? I will decide then." + +"_I_ put them out, Lady Sarah?" returned Alice. "Yes, certainly." + +"If you will be so kind. Hughes, give the key to Miss Seaton." For +they did sometimes remember to address Alice by her adopted name. + +Lady Sarah left the room, and the maid, Hughes, began taking one of +the small keys off the ring. "I have leave to go out, miss," she +explained, "which is the reason why my lady has asked you to see to +her bracelets. My mother is not well, and wants to see me. This is the +key, ma'am." + +As Alice took it, Lady Sarah reappeared at the door. "Alice, you may +as well bring the bracelet-box down to the back drawing-room," she +said. "I shall not care to come up here after dinner: we shall be late +as it is." + +"What's that about the bracelet-box?" inquired a pretty-looking girl, +who had come swiftly out of another apartment. + +"Lady Sarah wishes me to bring her bracelets down to the drawing-room, +that she may choose which to put on. It was too hot to wear them to +dine in, she said." + +"Are you not coming in to dinner, Alice?" + +"No. I walked out, and it has tired me. I have had some tea instead.". + +"I would not be you for all the world, Alice! To possess so little +capability of enjoying life." + +"Yet, if you were as I am, weak in health and strength, your lot would +have been so soothed to you, Frances, that you would not repine at or +regret it." + +"You mean I should be content," laughed Frances, upon whom the +defection of Mr. Gerard Hope earlier in the year did not appear to +have made much impression: though perhaps she did not know its +particulars. "Well, there is nothing like contentment, the sages tell +us. One of my detestable schoolroom copies used to be 'Contentment is +happiness.'" + +"I can hear the dinner being taken in," said Alice. "You will be late +in the drawing-room." + +Lady Frances Chenevix turned away to fly down the stairs. Her light, +rounded form, her elastic step, all telling of health and enjoyment, +presented a marked contrast to that of Alice Dalrymple. Alice's face +was indeed strangely beautiful, almost too refined and delicate for +the wear and tear of common life, but her figure was weak and +stooping, and her gait feeble. + +Colonel Hope, thin and spare, with sharp brown eyes and sharp +features, sat at the foot of his table. He was beginning to look so +shrunk and short, that his friends jokingly told him he must have been +smuggled into the army, unless he had since been growing downwards, +for surely so little a commander could never expect to be obeyed. No +stranger could have believed him at ease in his circumstances, any +more than they would have believed him a colonel who had seen hard +service in India, for his clothes were frequently threadbare. A black +ribbon supplied the place of a gold chain as guard to his watch, and a +blue, tin-looking thing of a galvanized ring did duty for any other +ring on his finger. Yet he was rich; of fabulous riches, people said; +but he was of a close disposition, especially as regarded his personal +outlay. In his home and to his wife he was liberal. A good husband; +and, putting his crustiness and his crotchets aside, a good man. It +was the loss of his two boys that had so tried and changed him. His +large property was not entailed: it had been thought his nephew, +Gerard Hope, would inherit it, but Gerard had been turned from the +house. Lady Sarah remarked that it was too hot to dine; but the +colonel, in respect to heat, was a salamander. + +Alice meanwhile lay on the sofa for half-an-hour; and then, taking the +bracelet-box in her hands, descended to the drawing-rooms. It was +intensely hot, she thought; a sultry, breathless heat; and she threw +open the back window. Which in truth made it hotter, for the sun +gleamed right athwart the leads which stretched themselves beyond the +windows over the outbuildings at the back of the row of houses. + +Alice sat down near this back window, and began to put out some of the +bracelets on the table before it. They were rare and rich: of plain +gold, of silver, of pearl, of precious stones. One of them was of gold +links, studded with diamonds; it was very valuable, and had been the +present of Colonel Hope to his wife on her recent birthday. Another +diamond bracelet was there, but it was not so beautiful or so costly +as this. When her task was done, Alice passed into the front +drawing-room, and put up one of its large windows. Still there was no +air in the room. + +As she stood at it, a handsome young man, tall and agile, who was +walking on the opposite side of the street, caught her eye. He nodded, +hesitated, and then crossed the street as if to enter. + +"It is Gerard!" muttered Alice, under her breath. "Can he be coming +here?" She walked away from the window hastily, and sat down by the +bedecked table in the other room. + +"Just as I supposed!" exclaimed Gerard Hope, entering, and advancing +to Alice with stealthy steps. "When I saw you at the window, the +thought struck me that you were alone here, and they at dinner. Thomas +happened to be airing himself at the door, so I crossed over, found I +was right, and came up. How are you, Alice?" + +"Have you come to dinner?" inquired Alice, speaking at random, and +angry at her own agitation. + +"_I_ come to dinner!" repeated Gerard. "Why, you know they'd as soon +sit down with the renowned Mr. Ketch." + +"Indeed I know nothing about it: we have been away in Gloucestershire +for months, as I dare say you are aware: I was hoping that you and the +colonel might have been reconciled. Why did you come in, Gerard? +Thomas may tell them." + +"Thomas won't. I charged him not to. The idea of your never coming up +till June! Some whim of Lady Sarah's, I suppose. Two or three times +a-week for the last month have I been marching past this house, +wondering when it was going to show signs of life. Frances is here +still?" + +"Oh yes. She remains here altogether." + +"To make up for---- Alice, was it not a shame to turn me out?" + +"I was extremely sorry for what happened, Mr. Hope, but I knew nothing +of the details. Lady Sarah said you had displeased herself and the +colonel, and after that she never mentioned your name." + +"What a show of smart things you have here, Alice! Are you going to +set up a bazaar?" + +"They are Lady Sarah's bracelets." + +"So they are, I see! This is a gem," added Gerard, taking up the fine +diamond bracelet already mentioned. "I don't remember this one." + +"It is new. The colonel has just given it to her." + +"What did it cost?" + +Alice laughed. "Do you think it likely I have heard? I question if +Lady Sarah has." + +"It never cost a farthing less than two hundred guineas," mused Gerard, +turning the bracelet in various directions, that its rich diamonds +might give out their gleaming light. "I wish it was mine." + +"What should you do with it?" laughed Alice. + +"Spout it." + +"I do not understand," returned Alice. She really did not. + +"I beg your pardon, Alice. I was thinking of the colloquial lingo +familiarly applied to such transactions, instead of to whom I was +talking. I mean raise money upon it." + +"Oh, Mr. Hope!" + +"Alice, that's twice you have called me 'Mr. Hope.' I thought I had +been 'Gerard' to you for many a year." + +"Time changes things; and you seem more like a stranger than you +used to," returned Alice, a flush rising to her sensitive face. +"But you spoke of raising money: I hope you are not in temporary +embarrassment." + +"A jolly good thing for me if it turns out only temporary," he +rejoined. "Look at my position! Debts hanging over my head--for you +may be sure, Alice, all young men, with a limited allowance and large +expectations, contract debts--and thrust out of my uncle's home with +just the loose cash I had in my pocket, and my clothes sent packing +after me." + +"Has the colonel stopped your allowance?" + +Gerard Hope laid down the bracelet from whence he had taken it, before +he replied. + +"He stopped it then; it's months ago, you know; and I have not had a +shilling since, except from my own resources. I first went upon tick; +then I disposed of my watch and chain and all my other little matters +of value: and now I am upon tick again." + +Alice did not answer. The light tone vexed her. + +"Perhaps you don't understand these free terms, Alice," he said, +looking fondly at her, "and I hope you may never have occasion to. +Frances would: she has lived in their atmosphere." + +"Yes, I know what an embarrassed man the earl often is. But I am +grieved to hear about yourself. Is the colonel implacable? What was +the cause of the quarrel?" + +"You know I was to be his heir. Even if more children had come to him, +he undertook to provide amply for me. Last autumn he suddenly sent for +me to tell me it was his pleasure and Lady Sarah's that I should take +up my abode with them. So I did take it up, glad to get into such good +quarters; and stopped here like an innocent, unsuspicious lamb, +until--when was it, Alice? March? Then the plot came out." + +"The plot," exclaimed Alice. + +"It was nothing less. They had fixed upon a wife for me; and I was +ordered to hold myself in readiness to marry her at any given moment." + +"Who was it?" inquired Alice, in a low tone, as she bent her head over +the bracelets. + +"Never mind," laughed the young man; "it wasn't you. I said I would +not have her; and they both, he and Lady Sarah, pulled me and my want +of taste to pieces, assuring me I was a monster of ingratitude. It +provoked me into confessing that I liked some one else better. And +then the colonel turned me out." + +Alice looked her sorrow, but she did not express it. + +"Of course I saw the imprudence then of having thrown up my place in +the red-tape office; but it was done. And since then I have been +having a fight with my creditors, putting them off with fair words and +promises. But they have grown incredulous, and it has come to dodging. +In favour with my uncle, and his acknowledged heir, they would have +given me unlimited time and credit, but the breach between us is +known, and it makes all the difference. With the value of that at my +disposal"--nodding at the bracelet--"I should stop a few pressing +personal trifles and go on again for a while. So you see, Alice, a +diamond bracelet may be of use to a gentleman, should some genial +fortune drop one into his hands." + +"I sympathize with you very much," said Alice, "and I would I had it +in my power to aid you." + +"Thank you for your kind wishes; I know they are genuine. When my +uncle sees the name of Gerard Hope figuring in the insolvent list, or +amongst the outlaws, he---- Hark! Can they be coming up from dinner?" + +"Scarcely yet," said Alice, starting up simultaneously with himself, +and listening. "But they will not sit long today, because they are +going to the opera. Gerard, they must not find you here." + +"It might get you turned out as well as myself! No, not if I can help +it. Alice!"--suddenly laying his hands upon her shoulders, and gazing +down into her eyes--"do you know who it was I had learnt to love, +instead of--of the other?" + +She gasped for breath, and her colour went and came. "No--no; do not +tell me, Gerard." + +"Why, no, I had better not, under present circumstances. But when the +good time comes--for all their high-roped indignation must and will +blow over--_then I will_; and here's the pledge of it." He bent his +head, took one long earnest kiss from her lips; and the next moment +was gone. + +Agitated almost to sickness, trembling and confused, Alice stole to +look after him, terrified lest he might not escape unseen. She crept +partly down the stairs, so as to obtain sight of the hall-door, and +make sure that he got out in safety. As Gerard drew it quietly open, +there stood a lady just about to knock. It was Selina, waiting to +exchange a few words with Gerard. He waved his hand towards the +staircase. Alice met her, and took her into the front drawing-room. + +"I cannot stay to sit down, Alice: I must hasten back to dress, for I +am engaged to three or four places tonight. Neither do I wish to +horrify Lady Sarah with a visit at this untoward hour. I had a request +to make to you, and thought to catch you in your room before you went +in to dinner." + +"They are alone, and are dining earlier than usual. I was too tired to +appear. What can I do for you, Selina?" + +Mrs. Oscar Dalrymple had come (as you have already heard) to try that +one hopeless task--the borrowing money of her sister. + +"I am in pressing need of it, Alice," she said. "Can you lend it me?" + +"I wish I could," returned Alice; "I am so very sorry. I sent all I +had to poor mamma the day before we came to town. It was only +twenty-five pounds." + +"_That_ would have been of no use to me: I want more. I thought if you +had been misering up your salary, you might have had a hundred pounds, +or so, by you." + +Alice shook her head. "I should be a long while saving up a hundred +pounds, even if dear mamma had no wants. But I send to her what I can +spare. Is it for--dresses, and that?" + +"Yes," was Selina's laconic answer. + +"I wish I had it to give you! Do not be in such a hurry," continued +Alice, as her sister was moving to the door. "At least wait one minute +while I fetch you a letter I received from mamma this morning, in +answer to mine. You will like to read it, for it is full of news of +the old place. You can take it home with you, Selina." + +Alice left her sister standing in the front-room, and went upstairs. +But she was more than one minute away; she was three or four, for +she could not at first lay her hand upon the letter. When she +returned, her sister advanced to her from the back drawing-room, the +folding-doors between the two rooms being, as before, wide open. + +"What a fine collection of bracelets, Alice!" she exclaimed, as she +took the letter. "Are they spread out for show?" + +"No," laughed Alice; "Lady Sarah is going to the opera, and will have +no time to spare when she comes up from dinner. She asked me to bring +them all down, as she had not decided which to wear." + +"I like to dress entirely before dinner on my opera nights." + +"Oh, so of course does Lady Sarah," returned Alice, as her sister +descended the stairs; "but she said it was too hot to dine in +bracelets." + +"It is fearfully hot. Good-bye, Alice. Don't ring: I will let myself +out." + +Alice returned to the front-room and looked from the window, wondering +whether her sister had come in her carriage. No. A trifling evening +breeze was rising and beginning to move the curtains about. Gentle as +it was, it was grateful, and Alice sat down in it. In a very few +minutes the ladies came up from dinner. + +"Have you the bracelets, Alice. Oh, I see." + +Lady Sarah went into the back-room as she spoke, and stood before the +table, looking at the bracelets. Alice rose to follow her, when Lady +Frances Chenevix caught her by the arm, and began to speak in a covert +whisper. + +"Who was that at the door just now? It was a visitor's knock. Do you +know, Alice, every hour, since we came to town, I have fancied Gerard +might be calling. In the country he could not get to us, but +here---- Was it Gerard?" + +"It--it was my sister," carelessly answered Alice. It was not a true +answer, for her sister had not knocked, and she did not know who had. +But it was the readiest that rose to her lips, and she wished to +escape the questioning, for more reasons than one. + +"Only your sister," replied Frances, turning to the window with a +gesture of disappointment. + +"Which have you put on?" inquired Alice, going towards Lady Sarah. + +"Those loose, fancy things; they are the coolest. I really am so hot: +the soup was that favourite soup of the colonel's, all capsicums and +cayenne, and the wine was hot; there had been a mistake about the ice. +Gill trusted to the new man, and he did not understand it. It was all +hot together. What the house will be tonight, I dread to think of." + +Lady Sarah, whilst she spoke, had been putting the bracelets into the +jewel-box, with very little care. + +"I had better put them straight," remarked Alice, when she reached the +table. + +"Do not trouble," returned Lady Sarah, shutting down the lid. "You are +looking flushed and feverish, Alice; you were wrong to walk so far +today. Hughes will set them to rights tomorrow morning; they will do +until then. Lock them up, and take possession of the key." + +Alice did as she was bid. She locked the case and put the key in her +pocket. "Here is the carriage," exclaimed Lady Frances. "Are we to +wait for coffee?" + +"Coffee in this heat!" retorted Lady Sarah; "it would be adding fuel +to fire. We will have some tea when we return. Alice, you must make +tea for the colonel; he will not come out without it. He thinks this +weather just what it ought to be: rather cold, if anything." + +Alice had taken the bracelet-box in her hands as Lady Sarah spoke; +when they had departed, she carried it upstairs to its place in Lady +Sarah's bedroom. The colonel speedily rose from table, for his wife +had laid her commands on him to join them early. Alice helped him to +his tea, and as soon as he was gone she went upstairs to bed. + +To bed, but not to sleep. Tired as she was, and exhausted in frame, +sleep would not come to her. She was living over again her interview +with Gerard Hope. She could not, in her conscious heart, affect to +misunderstand his implied meaning--that she had been the cause of his +rejecting the union proposed to him. It diffused a strange rapture +within her; and, though she had not perhaps been wholly blind and +unconscious during the period of Gerard's stay with them, and for some +time before that, she now kept repeating the words, "Can it be that he +loves me? can it be?" + +It certainly was so. Love plays strange pranks. There was Gerard +Hope--heir to the colonel's fabulous wealth, consciously proud of his +handsome person, his height and strength--called home and planted down +by the side of a pretty and noble lady on purpose that he might fall +in love with her: the Lady Frances Chenevix. And yet, the well-laid +project failed: failed because there happened to be another at that +young lady's side: a sad, quiet, feeble-framed girl, whose very +weakness may have seemed to others to place her beyond the pale of +man's love. But love thrives by contrasts; and it was the feeble girl +who won the love of the strong man. + +Yes; the knowledge diffused a strange rapture within her, Alice +Dalrymple, as she lay that night; and she may be excused if, for a +brief period, she allowed range to the sweet fantasies it conjured up. +For a brief period only. Too soon the depressing consciousness +returned to her, that these thoughts of earthly happiness must be +subdued: for she, with her confirmed ailments and conspicuous +weakness, must never hope to marry, as did other women. She had long +known--her mother had prepared her for it--that one so afflicted and +frail as she, whose tenure of existence was likely to be short, ought +not to become a wife; and it had been her earnest hope to pass through +life unloving, in that one sense, and unloved. She had striven to arm +herself against the danger, against being thrown into the perils of +temptation. Alas! it had come insidiously upon her; all her care had +been set at naught; and she knew that she loved Gerard Hope with a +deep and fervent love. "It is but another cross," she sighed, "another +burden to surmount and subdue, and I will set myself from this night +to the task. I have been a coward, shrinking from self-examination; +but now that Gerard has spoken out, I can deceive myself no longer. I +wish he had spoken more freely, that I might have told him it was +useless." + +It was only towards morning that Alice dropped asleep: the consequence +was that long after her usual hour for rising she was still sleeping. +The opening of her door awoke her. It was Lady Sarah's maid who stood +there. + +"Why, miss; are you not up? Well, I never! I wanted the key of the +small jewel-box; but I'd have waited, had I known." + +"What do you say you want?" returned Alice, whose ideas were confused; +as is often the case on being suddenly awakened. + +"The key of the bracelet-box, if you please." + +"The key?" repeated Alice. "Oh, I remember," she added, recollection +returning to her. "Be at the trouble, will you, Hughes, of taking it +out of my pocket: it is on that chair, under my clothes." + +The servant came to the pocket, and speedily found the key. "Are you +worse than usual, Miss Seaton, this morning," asked she, "or have you +overslept yourself?" + +"I have overslept myself. Is it late?" + +"Between nine and ten. My lady is up, and at breakfast with the +Colonel and Lady Frances." + +Alice rose the instant the maid left the room, and made haste to +dress, vexed with herself for sleeping so long. She was nearly ready +when Hughes came in again. + +"If ever I saw such confusion as that jewel-case was in!" cried she, +in as pert and grumbling a tone as she dared to use. "The bracelets +were thrown together without law or order--just as if they had been so +much glass and tinsel from the Lowther Arcade." + +"It was Lady Sarah," replied Alice. "I would have put them straight, +but she told me to leave it for you. I thought she might prefer that +you should do it." + +"Of course her ladyship is aware there's nobody but myself knows their +right places in it," returned Hughes, consequentially. "I could go to +that or to the other jewel-box in the dark, ma'am, and take out any +one thing my lady wanted, without disturbing the rest." + +"I have observed that you have the gift of order," remarked Alice, +with a smile. "It is very useful to those who possess it, and saves +them much trouble and confusion." + +"So it do, ma'am," said Hughes. "But I came to ask you for the diamond +bracelet." + +"The diamond bracelet!" echoed Alice. "What diamond bracelet! What do +you mean, Hughes?" + +"It is not in the box." + +"The diamond bracelets are both in the box," rejoined Alice. + +"The old one is there; not the new one. I thought you might have taken +it out to show some one, or to look at yourself, ma'am, for it's just +a sight for pleasant eyes." + +"I can assure you it is in the case," said Alice. "All are there, +except the pair Lady Sarah had on. You must have overlooked it." + +"I am a great donkey if I have," grumbled the girl. "It must be at the +very bottom, amongst the cotton," she soliloquized, as she returned to +Lady Sarah's apartments, "and I have just got to take every individual +article out, to get to it. This comes of giving up one's keys to other +folks." + +Alice entered the breakfast-room, begging pardon for her late +appearance. It was readily accorded. Her office in the house was +nearly a sinecure. When she had first entered upon it Lady Sarah was +ill, and required some one to sit with and read to her: now that she +was well again, Alice had little to do. + +Breakfast was scarcely over when Alice was called from the room. +Hughes stood outside the door. + +"Miss Seaton," said she, with a long face, "the diamond bracelet is +not in the box. I thought I could not be mistaken." + +"But it must be in the box," said Alice. + +"But it is _not_," persisted Hughes, emphasizing the negative. "Can't +you believe me, ma'am? I want to know where it is, that I may put it +up and lock the box." + +Alice Seaton looked at Hughes with a puzzled, dreamy look. She was +thinking matters over. Her face soon cleared again. + +"Then Lady Sarah must have kept it out when she put in the rest. It +was she who returned them to the case; I did not. Perhaps she wore it +last night." + +"No, miss, that she didn't. She wore only those two----" + +"I saw what she had on," interrupted Alice. "But she might also have +put on the other, without my noticing. Or she may have kept it out for +some other purpose. I will ask her. Wait here an instant, Hughes; for +of course you will like to be at a certainty." + +"That's cool," thought Hughes, as Alice went into the breakfast-room, +and the colonel came out of it, with his _Times_. "I should have said +it was somebody else would like to be at a certainty, instead of me," +continued the girl, indulging in soliloquy. "Thank goodness the box +wasn't in my charge last night, if anything dreadful has come to pass. +My lady don't keep out her bracelets for sport. Miss Seaton has left +the key about, that's what she has done, and it's hard to say who +hasn't been at it: I knew the box had been ransacked over." + +"Lady Sarah," said Alice, "did you wear your new diamond bracelet last +night?" + +"No." + +"Then did you put it into the box with the others?" + +"No," repeated Lady Sarah, who was languidly toying with a basket of +ferns. + +"After you had chosen the bracelets you wished to wear, you put the +others into the box yourself," explained Alice, thinking she was not +understood. "Did you put in the new one, the diamond, or keep it out?" + +"The new one was not there." + +Alice stood confounded. "It was lying on the table, at the back of all +the rest, Lady Sarah," she presently said. "Next the window." + +"I tell you, Alice, it was not there. I don't know that I should have +worn it if it had been, but I certainly looked for it. Not seeing it, +I supposed you had not put it out; and I did not care sufficiently to +ask for it." + +Alice felt in a mesh of perplexity; curious thoughts, and very +unpleasing ones, were beginning to dawn upon her. "But indeed the +bracelet was there when you went to the table," she urged. "I put it +there." + +"I can assure you that you labour under a mistake, as to its being +there when I came up from dinner," answered Lady Sarah. "Why do you +ask?" + +"Hughes has come to say it is not in the case. She is outside, +waiting." + +"Outside, now? Let her come in. What's this about my bracelet, +Hughes?" + +"_I_ don't know, my lady. The bracelet is not in its place, so I asked +Miss Seaton for it. She thought your ladyship might have kept it out +yesterday evening." + +"I neither touched it nor saw it," said Lady Sarah. + +"Then we have had thieves at work," spoke Hughes, decisively; who had +been making up her mind to that as a fact. + +"It must be in the box, Hughes," said Alice. "I laid it out on the +table in the back drawing-room; and it is impossible that thieves--as +you phrase it--could have come there." + +"Oh yes, it is in the box, no doubt," said Lady Sarah, somewhat +crossly, for she disliked to be troubled, especially in hot weather. +"You have not searched properly, Hughes." + +"My lady," answered Hughes, "I can trust my hands and I can trust my +eyes, and they have all four been into every hole and crevice of the +box." + +Lady Frances Chenevix laid down the _Morning Post_, and advanced. "Is +the bracelet really lost?" + +"It cannot be lost," returned Lady Sarah. "You are sure you put it +out, Alice?" + +"I am quite sure of that. It was lying first in the case, and----" + +"Yes, it was," interrupted Hughes. "That is its place." + +"And was consequently the first that I took out," continued Alice. "I +put it on the table; and the others in a semicircle, nearer to me. +Why, as a proof that it lay there----" + +What was Alice going to add? Was she going to adduce as a proof that +Gerard Hope had taken it up and made it a subject of conversation? +Recollection came to her in time; she faltered and abruptly broke off. +But a faint, horrible dread, to which she would not give a shape, came +stealing over her; her face turned white, and she sank on a chair, +trembling visibly. + +"Now look at Alice!" uttered Frances Chenevix. "She is going into one +of her agitation fits." + +"Do not agitate yourself, Alice," cried Lady Sarah; "that will do no +good. Besides, I feel sure the bracelet is all safe in the case: where +else can it be? Fetch the case, Hughes, and I will look for it +myself." + +Hughes whirled out of the room, inwardly resenting the doubt cast on +her eyesight. + +"It is so strange," mused Alice, "that you did not see the bracelet +when you came up from dinner." + +"It was certainly not there to see," returned Lady Sarah. "Perhaps +you'll now look for yourself, my lady," cried Hughes, returning with +the jewel-box in her hands. + +The box was well searched. The bracelet was not there. + +"This is very strange, Hughes," exclaimed Lady Sarah. + +"It's very ugly also, my lady," answered Hughes, in a lofty tone, "and +I'm thankful to the presiding genuses which rules such things, that I +was not in charge when it happened. Though maybe, if I had been, it +never would have took place, for I can give a guess how it was." + +"Then you had better give it," said her mistress, curtly. + +"If I do," returned Hughes, "I may offend Miss Seaton." + +"No, you will not, Hughes," said Alice. "Say what you please: I have +need to wish this cleared up." + +"Well, ma'am, if I may speak my thoughts, I think you must have left +the key about. And we have strange servants in the house, as my lady +knows. There's a kitchen-maid that only entered it when we came up; +and there's the new under-butler." + +"Hughes, you are wrong," interrupted Alice. "The servants could not +have touched the box, for the key was never out of my possession, and +you know the lock is a Bramah. I locked the box last night in her +ladyship's presence, and the key was not out of my pocket afterwards, +until you took it from there this morning." + +"The key seems to have had nothing to do with it," interposed Frances. +"Alice says she put the diamond bracelet on the table with the rest; +Lady Sarah says when she went to the table after dinner the bracelet +was not there. Were you in the room all the while, Alice?" + +"Not quite. Very nearly. But no one could possibly have gone in +without my seeing them. The folding-doors were open." + +"It is quite a mystery," cried Lady Sarah. + +"It beats conjuring, my lady," said Hughes. "Did any visitor come +upstairs, I wonder?" + +"I did hear a visitor's knock while we were at dinner," said Lady +Sarah. "Don't you remember, Fanny You looked up as if you noticed it." + +"Did I?" answered Lady Frances, in a careless tone. + +At that moment Thomas happened to enter with a letter; and his +mistress put the question to him: Who had knocked? + +"Sir George Danvers, my lady," was the ready answer. "When I said the +colonel was at dinner, Sir George began to apologize for calling; but +I explained that you were dining earlier than usual, because of the +opera." + +"No one else called?" + +"Nobody knocked but Sir George, my lady." + +"A covert answer," thought Alice. "But I am glad he is true to +Gerard." + +"What an untruth!" thought Lady Frances, as she remembered hearing of +the visit of Alice's sister: "Thomas's memory must be short." In point +of fact, Thomas knew nothing of it. + +All the talk--and it was much prolonged--did not tend to throw any +light upon the matter; and Alice, unhappy and ill, retired to her own +room. The agitation had brought on a nervous and violent headache; she +sat down in a low chair, and bent her forehead on her hands. One +belief alone possessed her: that the unfortunate Gerard Hope had +stolen the bracelet. Do as she would, she could not put it out of her +mind: she kept repeating that he was a gentleman, that he was +honourable, that he would never place her in so painful a position. +Common sense replied that the temptation was suddenly laid before him, +and he had confessed his pecuniary difficulties to be great; nay, had +he not wished for this very bracelet, that he might make money---- + +A knock at the chamber-door. Alice lifted her sickly countenance, and +bade the intruder enter. It was Lady Frances Chenevix. + +"I came to---- Alice, how wretched you look! You will torment yourself +into a fever." + +"Can you wonder at my looking wretched?" returned Alice. "Place +yourself in my position, Frances: it must appear to Lady Sarah as if +I--I--had made away with the bracelet. I am sure Hughes thinks so." + +"Don't you say unorthodox things, Alice. They would rather think that +I had done it, of the two, for I have more use for diamond bracelets +than you." + +"It is kind of you to try to cheer me," sighed Alice. + + "Just the thing +I came to do. And to have a bit of chat with you as well. If you will +let me." + +"Of course I will let you." + +"I wish to tell you I will not mention that your sister was here last +evening. I promise you I will not." + +Alice did not immediately reply. The words and their hushed tone +caused a new trouble, a fresh thought, to arise within her, one which +she had not glanced at. Was it possible that Frances could imagine her +sister to be the---- + +"Lady Frances Chenevix!" burst forth Alice. "You cannot think it! She! +my sister!--guilty of a despicable theft! Have you forgotten that she +moves in your own position in the world? that our family is scarcely +inferior to yours?" + +"Alice, I forgive you for so misjudging me, because you are not +yourself just now. Of course, your sister cannot be suspected; I know +that. But as you did not mention her when they were questioning +Thomas, nor did he, I supposed you had some reason for not wishing her +visit spoken of." + +"Believe me, Selina is not the guilty person," returned Alice. "I have +more cause to say so than you think for." + +"What do you mean by that?" briskly cried Lady Frances. "You surely +have no clue?" + +Alice shook her head, and her companion's eagerness was lulled again. +"It is well that Thomas was forgetful," remarked Frances. "Was it +forgetfulness, Alice; or did you contrive to telegraph to him to be +silent?" + +"Thomas only spoke truth, as regards Selina: he did not let her in. +She came but for a minute, to ask me about a private matter, and said +there was no need to tell Lady Sarah she had been." + +"Then it is all quite easy; and you and I can keep our own counsel." + +Quite easy, possibly, to the mind of Frances Chenevix. But anything +but easy to Alice Dalrymple: for the words of Lady Frances had +introduced an idea more repulsive, more terrifying even, than that of +suspecting Gerard Hope. Her sister acknowledged that she was in need +of money, "a hundred pounds, or so;" nay, Alice had only too good +cause to know that previously; and she had seen her come from the back +room where the jewels lay. Still--_she_ take a bracelet! Selina! It +was preposterous. + +Preposterous or not, Alice's torment was doubled. Which of the two had +been the black sheep? One of them it must have been. Instinct, +sisterly relationship, reason, and common sense, all combined to turn +the scale against Gerard. But that there should be a doubt at all was +not pleasant, and Alice started up impulsively and put her bonnet on. + +"Where now!" cried Lady Frances. + +"I will go to Selina's and ask her--and ask her--if--she saw any +stranger here--any suspicious person in the hall or on the stairs," +stammered Alice, making the best excuse she could make. + +"But you know you were in or about the drawing-rooms all the time, and +no one came into them, suspicious or unsuspicious; so, how will that +aid you?" + +"True," murmured Alice. "But it will be a relief to go somewhere or do +something." + +Alice found her sister at home; had disturbed her, in fact, at a very +interesting employment, as the reader may remember. In spite of her +own emotional preoccupation, Selina instantly detected that something +was wrong; for the suspense, illness, and agitation had taken every +vestige of colour from Alice's cheeks and lips. + +"What can be the matter, Alice?" was her greeting. "You look just like +a walking ghost." + +"I feel that I do," breathed poor Alice, "and I kept my veil down in +the street, lest I might be taken for one and scare the people. A +great misfortune has fallen upon me, Selina. You saw those bracelets +last night, spread out on the table?" + +"Yes." + +"They were in my charge, and one of them has been abstracted. It was +of great value; gold links, holding diamonds." + +"Abstracted!" repeated the elder sister, in both concern and surprise, +but certainly without the smallest indications of a guilty knowledge. +"How? In what manner?" + +"It is a mystery. I only left the room when I met you on the +staircase, and when I went upstairs to fetch the letter for you. +Directly after you left, Lady Sarah came up from dinner, and the +bracelet was not there." + +"It is incredible, Alice. And no one else entered the room at all, you +say? No servant? no----" + +"Not any one," interrupted Alice, determined not to speak of Gerard +Hope. + +"Then, child, it is simply impossible," was the calm rejoinder. "It +must have fallen on the ground; or been mislaid in some way." + +"It is hopelessly gone. Do you remember seeing it?" + +"I do remember seeing amidst the rest a bracelet set with diamonds; +but only on the clasp, I think. It----" + +"That was another; that one is safe," interrupted Alice. "The one +missing is of fine gold links studded with brilliants. Did you see +it?" + +"Not that I remember. I was there scarcely a minute, for I had only +strolled into the back-room just before you came down. To tell you the +truth, Alice, my mind was too fully occupied with other things, to +take much notice even of jewels. Do not look so perplexed: it will be +all right. Only you and I were in the room, you say; and we could not +take it." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Alice, clasping her hands, and lifting her white, +beseeching face to her sister's, "did you take it? In--in sport; or +in---- Oh, surely you were not tempted to take it for anything else? +Forgive me, Selina! you said you had need of money." + +"Alice, are we going to have one of your old scenes of excitement? +Strive for calmness. I am sure you do not know what you are implying. +My poor child, I would rather help you to jewels than take them from +you." + +"But look at the mystery." + +"It does appear to be a mystery, but it will no doubt be cleared up," +was the reply, calm and equable. "Alice, what could you have been +dreaming of, to suspect me? Have we not grown up together in our +honourable home? You ought to know me, if any one does." + +"And you really saw nothing of it!" moaned Alice, with a sobbing of +the breath. + +"Indeed I did not. In truth, I did not. If I could help you out of +your perplexity I would thankfully do it. Shall I return with you and +assist you to search for the bracelet?" + +"No, thank you. Every search has been made." + +"You have not told me what could induce you to suspect me?" + +"I think--it was the impossibility of suspecting any one else," +breathed poor Alice, with hesitation. "And you told me, you know, +Selina, how very badly you wanted money." + +"So I do; far more badly than you have any idea of, child. So badly +that the thought crossed me for a moment of applying to that +dreadfully rich fifteenth cousin of papa's in Liverpool, Benjamin +Dalrymple, who estranged himself from us years ago; but I knew he +would only growl out a 'No' if I did apply. But not badly enough, +Alice, to bring me to stealing a diamond bracelet," emphatically +concluded Selina. + +Not only was the denial fervent and calm, but Selina's manner and +countenance conveyed the impression of truth. Alice left her, +inexpressibly relieved; though the conviction, that it must have been +Gerard, returned to her in full force. "I wish I could see him!" was +her mental exclamation. + +And, for once, fortune favoured her wish. As she was dragging her +weary limbs along, he came right upon her at the corner of a street. + +"I am so thankful!" she exclaimed. "I wanted to see you." + +"I think you most want to see a doctor, Alice. How ill you look!" + +"I have cause," she returned. "That bracelet has been stolen." + +"Which bracelet?" asked Gerard. + +"That valuable one. The diamond. It was taken from the room." + +"Taken when?" he rejoined, looking her full in the face--as a guilty +man would scarcely dare to look. + +"Then; or within a few minutes of that time. When Lady Sarah came up +from dinner it was not there. She came up almost immediately." + +"Who took it?" he repeated, not yet recovering his surprise. + +"I don't know," she faintly said. "It was under my charge. No one else +was there." + +"You do not wish me to understand that _you_ are suspected?" he burst +forth with genuine feeling. "Their unjust meanness cannot have gone +that length!" + +"I trust not, but I am very unhappy. It is true I left the room when +you did, but I only lingered outside on the stairs, watching--if I may +tell the truth--whether you got out safely, and then I returned to it. +Yet when Lady Sarah came up from dinner it was gone." + +"And did no one else go into the room?" he repeated. "Did Selina? I +met her at the door, and sent her upstairs." + +"She went in for a minute. But she would not touch the jewels, +Gerard." + +"Of course not. She counts as ourselves in this. The bracelet was in +the room when I left it----" + +"You are sure of that?" interrupted Alice. + +"I am. When I reached the door, I turned round to take a last look at +you, and the diamonds of that particular bracelet gleamed at me from +its place on the table." + +"Oh, Gerard! Is this the truth?" + +"It is the truth, on my sacred word of honour," he replied, looking at +her agitated face and wondering at her words. "Why else should I say +it? Good-bye, Alice; I cannot stay another moment, for there's +somebody yonder I don't want to meet." + +He was off like a shot. But his words and manner had conveyed a +conviction of innocence to the mind of Alice, just as those of her +sister had done. She stood still, looking after him in her dreamy +wonder, and was jostled by the passers-by, mentally asking herself +_which_ of the two was the real delinquent? One of them it must have +been. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. +DRIVEN INTO EXILE. + + +Colonel Hope was striding about his library with impatient steps. He +wore a wadded dressing-gown, handsome once, but remarkably shabby now, +and he wrapped it closely around him, though the heat of the weather +was intense. But Colonel Hope, large as were his coffers, never spent +upon himself a superfluous farthing, especially in the way of personal +adornment; and Colonel Hope would not have felt too warm cased in +sheepskins, for he had spent the best part of his life in India, and +was, besides, of a chilly nature. + +That same afternoon he had been made acquainted with the unpleasant +transaction which had occurred in his house the past evening. The +household termed it a mystery; he, a scandalous robbery: and he had +written forthwith to the nearest chief police-station, demanding that +an officer might be despatched back with the messenger, to investigate +it. So there he was, waiting for their return in impatient +expectation, and occasionally halting before the window, to look out +on the busy London world. + +The officer at length came, and was introduced. Lady Sarah joined +them, and she proceeded to give him the outline of the case. A +valuable diamond bracelet, recently presented to Lady Sarah by her +husband, had disappeared in a singular manner. Miss Seaton Dalrymple, +the companion to Lady Sarah, had temporary charge of the jewel-box. +She had brought it down the previous evening, Thursday, this being +Friday, to the back drawing-room, and laid several pairs of bracelets +out on a table, ready for Lady Sarah, who was going to the opera, to +choose which she would wear when she came up from dinner. Lady Sarah +chose a pair, and put, herself, the rest back into the box, which Miss +Seaton then locked, and carried to its place upstairs. In the few +minutes that the bracelets lay on the table, the most valuable one of +all, a diamond, disappeared from it. + +"I did not want this to be officially investigated; at least, not so +quickly," observed Lady Sarah to the officer. "The colonel wrote for +you quite against my wish." + +"And so have let the thief get clear off, and put up with the loss!" +cried the colonel. "Very fine, my lady." + +"You see," added her ladyship, explaining to the officer, "Miss +Dalrymple is a young lady of extremely good family, with whom we are +intimate. She is of feeble constitution, and this affair has so +completely upset her, that I fear she will be laid on a sick bed." + +"It won't be my fault, if she is," retorted the colonel, taking the +implied reproach to himself. "She'd be as glad to find it out as +ourselves. The loss of a diamond bracelet, worth two or three hundred +guineas, is not to be hushed up. They are not to be bought every day, +Lady Sarah." + +The officer was taken to the back drawing-room, whence the bracelet +disappeared. It presented nothing peculiar. The folding-doors between +it and the front-room stood open, the back window, a large one, looked +out upon some flat leads. He seemed to take in the points of the +double room at a glance: he examined the latches of the two doors +opening to the corridor, he looked next from the front windows and +then from the one at the back. From the front ones ordinary ingress +was impossible; it was nearly as much so from the back one. + +The officer leaned out for some time, but could make nothing of a +case; The window was shut in by a balcony that just encircled it, and +was not accessible from the leads underneath. The house was one of a +row, or terrace, of houses, and they all bore the same features: the +leads running along below; the confining balconies to the windows on +this floor above. But the windows could not be gained from the leads +except by means of a ladder; and the balconies were not at all near +each other. + +"Nothing to be suspected there," concluded the officer, bringing in +his head and shoulders. "I should like, if you please, ma'am, to see +Miss Dalrymple." + +Lady Sarah went for her, and brought her. A delicate girl, with a +transparent skin, looking almost too weak to walk. She was in a +visible tremor, and shook as she stood before the police-officer: +whose name, it turned out, was Pullet. + +But he was a man of pleasant manners and speech, and he hastened to +reassure her. "There's nothing to be afraid of, young lady," said he, +with a broad smile. "We are not ogres: though I do believe some timid +folks look upon us as such. Just please to compose yourself; and tell +me as much as you can recollect of this." + +"I laid out the bracelets here," began Alice, indicating the table +underneath the window. "The diamond bracelet, the one lost, I placed +just here," she added, touching the middle of the table at the back, +"and the rest I put around it." + +"It was worth more than any of the others, I believe, ma'am?" + +"Much more," growled the colonel. + +The officer nodded to himself and Alice resumed: + +"I left the bracelets, and went into the other room and sat down at +one of the front windows----" + +"With the intervening doors open, I presume?" + +"Wide open, as they are now," said Alice. "The other two doors were +shut. Lady Sarah came up from dinner almost directly; and then, as it +appears, the bracelet was not there." + +"You are quite certain of that?" + +"I am quite certain," interposed Lady Sarah. "I looked particularly +for that bracelet: not seeing it, I supposed Miss Seaton had not laid +it out. I chose out a pair, put them on, returned the others to the +box, and saw Miss Dalrymple lock it." + +"Then your ladyship did not miss the bracelet at that time?" +questioned Mr. Pullet. + +"I did not miss it in one sense, because I did not know it had been +put out," she returned. "I saw it was not there." + +"But did you not miss it?" he asked of Alice. + +"I only reached the table as Lady Sarah was closing the lid of the +box," she answered. "Lady Frances Chenevix had detained me in the +front-room." + +"My sister," explained Lady Sarah. "She is staying with me, and had +come up with me from dinner." + +"You say you went and sat in the front-room," resumed the officer to +Alice, in a quicker tone than he had used previously; "will you show +me where?" + +Alice did not stir; she only turned her head towards the front-room, +and pointed to a chair a little drawn away from the window. "In that +chair," she said. "It stood as it stands now." + +The officer looked baffled. "You must have had the back-room full in +view from there; both the door and window." + +"Quite so," replied Alice. "If you will sit down in it, you will +perceive that I had an uninterrupted view, and faced the doors of both +rooms." + +"I perceive that from here. And you saw no one enter?" + +"No one did enter. It was impossible any one could do so without my +observing it. Had either of the doors been only quietly unlatched, I +must have both heard and seen." + +"And yet the bracelet vanished," interposed Colonel Hope. "They must +have been confoundedly deep, whoever did it; but thieves are said to +possess sleight of hand." + +"They are clever enough, some of them," observed the officer. + +"Rascally villains! I should like to know how they accomplished this." + +"So should I," significantly returned the officer. "At present it +appears to me incomprehensible." + +There was a pause; the officer seemed to muse; and Alice, happening to +look up, saw his eyes stealthily studying her face. It did not tend to +reassure her. + +"Your servants are trustworthy; they have lived with you some time?" +resumed Mr. Pullet, not apparently attaching much importance to what +the answer might be. + +"Were they all escaped convicts, I don't see that it would throw light +on this," retorted Colonel Hope. "If they came into the room to steal +the bracelet, Miss Dalrymple must have seen them." + +"From the time you put out the bracelets, to that of the ladies coming +up from dinner, how long was it?" inquired the officer of Alice. + +"I scarcely know," panted she. What with his close looks and his close +questions, her breath was growing short. "I did not take particular +notice of the lapse of time: I was not well yesterday evening." + +"Was it half-an-hour?" + +"Yes--I dare say--nearly so. + +"Miss Dalrymple," he continued in a brisk tone, "will you have any +objection to take an oath before a magistrate--in private, you +know--that no person whatever, except yourself, entered either of +these rooms during that period?" + +Had she been requested to go before a magistrate to testify that she, +herself, was the guilty person, it could scarcely have affected her +more. Her cheeks grew white, her lips parted, and her eyes assumed a +beseeching look of terror. Lady Sarah Hope hastily pushed a chair +behind her, and drew her down upon it. + +"Really, Alice, you are very foolish to allow yourself to be excited +about nothing," she remonstrated: "you would have fallen on the floor +in another minute. What harm is there in taking an oath privately, +when it is to further the ends of justice?" + +The officer's eyes were still keenly fixed on Alice Dalrymple's, and +she cowered visibly beneath his gaze. He was puzzled by her evident +terror. "Will you assure me, on your sacred word, that no person did +enter the room?" he repeated in a low, firm tone; which somehow +carried to her the impression that he believed her to be trifling with +them. + +She looked at him; gasped, and looked again; and then she raised her +handkerchief in her hand and wiped her ashy face. + +"I think some one did come in," whispered the officer in her ear; "try +and recollect who it was." And Alice fell back in hysterics, and was +taken from the room. + +"Miss Dalrymple has been an invalid for years; she is not strong, like +other people," remarked Lady Sarah. "I felt sure we should have a +scene of some kind, and that is why I wished the investigation not to +be gone into hurriedly." + +"Don't you think there are good grounds for an investigation, sir?" +testily asked Colonel Hope of the officer. + +"I must confess I do think so, colonel," was the reply. + + "Of course: +you hear, my lady. The difficulty is, how can we obtain the first clue +to the mystery?" + +"I do not suppose there will be an insuperable difficulty," observed +Mr. Pullet. "I believe I have obtained one." + +"You are a clever fellow, then," cried the colonel, "if you have +obtained it here. What is the clue?" + +"Will Lady Sarah allow me to mention it--whatever it may be--without +taking offence?" continued the officer, looking at her ladyship. + +She bowed her head, wondering much. + +"What's the good of standing upon ceremony?" peevishly put in Colonel +Hope. "Her ladyship will be as glad as we shall be to get back her +bracelet; more glad, one would think. A clue to the thief! Who is it?" + +Mr. Pullet smiled. When men have been as long in the police force as +he had, they give every word its due significance. "I did not say a +clue to the thief, colonel: I said a clue to the mystery." + +"Where's the difference?" + +"Pardon me, it is perceptible. That the bracelet is gone is a palpable +fact: but by whose hands it went is as yet a mystery." + +"What do you suspect?" + +"I suspect," returned the officer, lowering his voice, "that Miss +Dalrymple knows how it went." + +There was a silence of surprise; on Lady Sarah's part, of indignation. + +"Is it possible that you suspect _her?_" demanded Colonel Hope. + +"No," said the officer, "I do not suspect herself: she appears not to +be a suspicious person in any way: but I believe she knows who the +delinquent is, and that fear, or some other motive, keeps her silent. +Is she on familiar terms with any of the servants?" + +"But you cannot know what you are saying!" interrupted Lady Sarah. +"Familiar with the servants! Miss Dalrymple is a gentlewoman; she has +always moved in good society. Her family is little inferior to mine; +and better--better than the colonel's," concluded her ladyship, +determined to speak out. + +"Madam," said the officer, "you must be aware that in an investigation +of this nature we are compelled to put questions which we do not +expect to be answered in the affirmative. Colonel Hope will understand +what I mean, when I say that we call them 'feelers.' I did not expect +to hear that Miss Dalrymple had been on familiar terms with your +servants (though it might have been); but that question, being +disposed of, will lead me to another. I suspect that some one did +enter the room and make free with the bracelet, and that Miss +Dalrymple must have been cognizant of it. If a common thief, or an +absolute stranger, she would have been the first to give the alarm: if +not on too familiar terms with the servants, she would be as little +likely to screen them. So we come to the question--whom could it have +been?" + +"May I inquire why you suspect this of Miss Dalrymple?" coldly +demanded Lady Sarah. + +"Entirely from her manner; from the agitation she displays." + +"Most young ladies, particularly in our class of life, would betray +agitation at being brought face to face with a police-officer," urged +Lady Sarah. + +"My lady," he returned, "we are keen, experienced men: and we should +not be fit for the office we hold if we were not. We generally do find +lady witnesses betray uneasiness when first exposed to our questions, +but in a very short time, often in a few moments, it wears off, and +they grow gradually easy. It was not so with Miss Dalrymple. Her +agitation, excessive at first, increased visibly, and it ended as you +saw. I did not think it the agitation of guilt, but I did think it +that of conscious fear. And look at the related facts: that she laid +the bracelets there, never left them, no one came in, and yet the most +valuable one vanished. We have many extraordinary tales brought before +us, but not quite so extraordinary as that." + +The colonel nodded approbation. Lady Sarah began to feel +uncomfortable. + +"I should like to know whether any one called whilst you were at +dinner," mused the officer. "Can I see the man who attends to the +hall-door?" + +"Thomas attends to that," said the colonel, ringing the bell. "There +is a side-door, but that is only for the servants and tradespeople." + +"I heard Thomas say that Sir George Danvers called whilst we were at +dinner," observed Lady Sarah. "No one else. And Sir George did not go +upstairs." + +The detective smiled. "If he had gone, my lady, it would have made the +case no clearer." + +"No," laughed Lady Sarah; "poor old Sir George would be puzzled what +to do with a diamond bracelet." + +"Will you tell me," said the officer, wheeling sharply round upon +Thomas when he entered, "who it was that called here yesterday +evening, while your master was at dinner? I do not mean Sir George +Danvers; the other one." + +Thomas visibly hesitated: and that was sufficient for the lynx-eyed +officer. "Nobody called but Sir George, sir," he presently said. + +The detective stood before the man, staring him full in the face, with +a look of amusement. "Think again, my man," quoth he. "Take your time. +There was some one else." + +The colonel fell into an explosion: reproaching the unfortunate Thomas +with having eaten his bread for five years in India, to turn upon the +house and its master at last, and act the part of a deceitful, +conniving wretch, and let in that swindler---- + +"He is not a swindler, sir," interrupted Thomas. + +"Oh no, not a swindler," roared the colonel; "he only steals diamond +bracelets." + +"No more than I steal 'em, sir," again spoke Thomas. "He's not +capable, sir. It was Mr. Gerard." + +The colonel was struck speechless: his rage vanished, and down he sat +in a chair, staring at Thomas. Lady Sarah coloured with surprise. + +"Now, my man," cried the officer, "why could you not have said it was +Mr. Gerard?" + +"Because Mr. Gerard asked me not to say he had been, sir. He is not +friendly here, just now; and I promised him I would not. And I am +sorry to have had to break my word." + +"Who is Mr. Gerard, pray?" + +"He is my nephew," interposed the checkmated colonel. "Gerard Hope." + +"But, as Thomas says, he is no swindler," remarked Lady Sarah: "he is +not the thief. You may go, Thomas." + +"No, sir," stormed the colonel; "fetch Miss Dalrymple here first. I'll +come to the bottom of this. If he has done it, Lady Sarah, I will +bring him to trial: though he is Gerard Hope." + +Alice came back, leaning on the arm of Lady Frances Chenevix; the +latter having been dying with curiosity to come in before. + +"So the mystery is out, ma'am," began the colonel, to Miss Dalrymple: +"it appears this gentleman was right, and that somebody did come in. +And that somebody was the rebellious Mr. Gerard Hope." + +Alice was prepared for this, for Thomas had told her Mr. Gerard's +visit was known; and she was not so much agitated as before. It was +the fear of its being found out, the having to conceal it which had +troubled her. + +"It is not possible that Gerard can have taken the bracelet," said +Lady Sarah. + +"No, it is not possible," replied Alice. "And that is why I was +unwilling to mention his having come up." + +"What did he come for?" thundered the colonel. + +"It was not an intentional visit. I believe he only followed the +impulse of the moment. He saw me at the front window; and Thomas, it +appears, was standing at the door. He ran across, and came up." + +"I think you might have said so, Alice," observed Lady Sarah, in a +stiff tone. + +"Knowing he had been forbidden the house, I did not wish to bring him +under the colonel's displeasure," was all the excuse Alice could +offer. "It was not my place to tell of it." + +"I presume he approached sufficiently near the bracelets to touch +them, had he wished?" observed the officer, who of course had now +made up his mind upon the business--and upon the thief. + +"Y--es," returned Alice, wishing she could have said "No." + +"Did you notice the bracelet there, after he was gone?" + +"I cannot say I did. I followed him from the room when he left, and +then I went into the front-room, so that I had no opportunity of +observing the bracelets." + +"The doubt is solved," was the mental comment of the detective +officer. + +The colonel, hot and hasty, sent several servants various ways in +search of Gerard Hope. He was speedily found, and brought; coming in +with a smile on his frank, good-looking face. + +"Take him into custody, officer," was the colonel's impetuous command. + +"Hands off, Mr. Officer--if you are an officer," cried Gerard, in the +first shock of the surprise, as he glanced at the gentlemanly +appearance of the other, who wore plain clothes. "You shall not touch +me, unless you can show legal authority. This is a shameful trick. +Colonel--excuse me for speaking plainly--as I owe nothing to you, I do +not see that you have any right, or power, to bring about my arrest." + +The group would have made a fine study: especially Gerard, his head +thrown back in defiance, and looking angrily at every one. + +"Did you hear me?" cried the colonel. + +"I must do my duty," said the police-officer, approaching Gerard. "And +for authority--you need not suppose I should act without it." + +"Allow me to understand a little, first," remarked Gerard, haughtily +eluding the officer. "What is it for? What is the sum total?" + +"Two hundred and fifty pounds," growled the colonel. "But if you are +thinking to compromise it in that way, young sir, you will find +yourself mistaken." + +"Oh, no fear," retorted Gerard; "I have not two hundred and fifty +pence. Let me see: it must be Dobbs's. A hundred and sixty--how on +earth do they slide the expenses up? I did it, sir, to oblige a +friend." + +"The deuce you did!" echoed the colonel, who understood nothing of the +speech except the last sentence. "I never saw a cooler villain in all +my experience!" + +"He was awfully hard up," went on Gerard, "as much so as I am now; and +I did it. I don't deny having done such things on my own account, but +from this particular one I did not benefit a shilling." + +His calm assurance, and his words, struck them with consternation. You +see, he and they were at cross-purposes. + +"Dobbs said he'd take care I should be put to no inconvenience--and +this comes of it! That's trusting your friends. He vowed to me, this +very week, that he had provided for the bill." + +"He thinks it is only an affair of debt!" screamed Frances Chenevix. +"Oh, Gerard what a relief! We thought you were confessing." + +"You are not arrested for debt, sir," explained the officer. "You are +apprehended for--in short, it is a case of felony." + +"Felony!" echoed Gerard Hope. "Oh, indeed! Could you not make it +murder?" he added, with sarcasm. + +"Off with him to Marlborough Street, officer," cried the exasperated +colonel; "I'll come with you, and prefer the charge. He scoffs at it, +does he?" + +"Yes, that I do," answered Gerard. "Whatever pitfalls I may have +walked into in the way of debt and carelessness, I have not gone in +for felony." + +"You are accused, sir," said the officer, "of stealing a diamond +bracelet." + +"Hey!" uttered Gerard, a flash of intelligence rising to his face, as +he glanced at Alice. "I might have guessed it was the bracelet affair, +if I had had my recollection about me." + +"Oh, oh," triumphed the colonel, in mocking jocularity. "So you +expected it was the bracelet, did you? We shall have it all out +presently." + +"I heard of the bracelet's disappearance," said Gerard. "I met Alice +when she was out this morning, and she told me it was gone." + +"Better make no admissions," whispered the officer in his ear. "They +may be used against you." + +"Whatever admissions I may make, you are at liberty to use them," +haughtily returned Gerard. "Is it possible that you do suspect me of +taking the bracelet, uncle?--or is this a joke?" + +"Allow me to say a word," panted Alice, stepping forward. "I--I--did +not accuse you, Mr. Hope; I would not have mentioned your name in +connection with it, because I am sure you are innocent; but when it +was discovered that you had called, I could not deny that you were +upstairs while the bracelets lay on the table." + +"Of course I was. But the idea of my taking one is absurdly +preposterous," went on Gerard. "Who accuses me?" + +"I do," said Colonel Hope. + +"Then I am very sorry it is not somebody else, sir, instead of you." + +"Explain. Why?" + +"Because they should get a kindly taste of my cane across their +shoulders." + +"Gerard," interrupted Lady Sarah, "do not treat it in that light way. +If you did take the bracelet, say so, and you shall be forgiven. I am +sure you must have been put to it terribly hard; only confess it, and +the matter shall be hushed up." + +"No, it shan't, my lady," cried the colonel. "I will not have him +encouraged--I mean, felony compounded." + +"It shall," persisted Lady Sarah, "it shall, indeed. The bracelet was +mine, and I have a right to do as I please. Believe me, Gerard, I will +put up with the loss without a murmur; only confess, and let the worry +be done with." + +Gerard Hope looked at her: little trace of shame was there in his +countenance. "Lady Sarah," he asked in a deeply earnest tone, "can you +indeed deem me capable of taking your bracelet?" + +"The bracelet was there, sir; and it went; and you can't deny it," +cried the colonel. + +"The bracelet was there, sure enough," assented Gerard. "I held it in +my hand for two or three minutes, and was talking to Alice about it. I +told her I wished it was mine--and I said what I should do with it if +it was." + +"Oh, Mr. Hope, pray say no more," involuntarily interrupted Alice. + +"What do you want to screen him for?" impetuously broke forth the +colonel, turning upon Alice. "Let him say what he was going to say." + +"I do not know why I should not say it," Gerard Hope answered, in his +spirit of bravado, which he disdained to check. "I said I should +pledge it." + +"You'll send off to every pawnbroker's in the metropolis, before the +night's over, Mr. Officer," cried the choking colonel, breathless with +rage. "This beats everything." + +"But I did not take it any the more for having said that," put in +Gerard, in a graver tone. "The remark might have been made by any one, +from a duke downwards, if reduced to his last shifts, as I am. I said +_if_ it were mine: I did not say I would steal it. Nor did I." + +"I saw him put it down again," said Alice, in a calm, steady voice. + +"Allow me to speak a word, colonel," resumed Lady Sarah, interrupting +what her husband was about to say. "Gerard--I cannot believe you +guilty; but consider the circumstances. The bracelet was there; you +acknowledge it: Alice left the apartment when you did, and went into +the front-room, and stayed there with the bracelet in view. Yet when I +came up from dinner, it was gone." + +The colonel would speak. "So it lies between you and Miss Alice," he +put in. "Perhaps you would like us to believe she appropriated it." + +"No," answered Gerard, with a flashing eye. "She cannot be doubted. I +would rather take the guilt upon myself, than allow her to be +suspected. Believe me, Lady Sarah, we are both innocent." + +"The bracelet could not have gone without hands to take it, Gerard," +replied Lady Sarah. "How else do you account for its disappearance?" + +"I believe there must be some misapprehension, some great mistake, in +the affair altogether, Lady Sarah. It appears incomprehensible now; +but it will be unravelled." + +"Ay, and in double-quick time," wrathfully exclaimed the colonel. "You +must think you are talking to a pack of idiots, Master Gerard. Here +the bracelet was spread temptingly out on a table; you went into the +room, being hard up for money, fingered it, wished for it, and both +you and the bracelet disappeared. Sir"--turning sharply round to Mr. +Pullet--"did a clearer case ever go before a jury!" Gerard Hope bit +his lip. "Be more just, colonel," said he. "Your own brother's son +steal a bracelet!" + +"And I am happy my brother is not alive to know it," rejoined the +colonel, in an obstinate tone. "Take him in hand, Mr. Officer: we'll +go to Marlborough Street. I'll just change my coat, and----" + +"No, no, you will not," cried Lady Sarah, laying hold of the +dressing-gown and the colonel in it. "You shall not go; or Gerard, +either. Whether he is guilty or not, it must not be brought against +him publicly. He bears your name, colonel, and so do I, and it would +reflect disgrace on us all." + +"Perhaps you are made of money, my lady. If so, you may put up with +the loss of a two hundred-and-fifty guinea bracelet. I don't choose to +do so." + +"Then, colonel, you will and you must. Sir," added Lady Sarah to the +detective, "we are obliged to you for your attendance and advice, but +it turns out to be a family affair, as you perceive, and we must +decline to prosecute. Besides, Mr. Hope may not be guilty." + +Alice rose, and stood before Colonel Hope. "Sir, if this charge were +preferred against your nephew; if it came to trial; I think it would +kill me. You know my unfortunate state of health; the agitation, the +excitement of appearing to give evidence would be--I--I cannot +continue; I cannot speak of it without terror. I _pray_ you, for my +sake, do not prosecute Mr. Gerard." + +The colonel was about to storm forth an answer, but her white face, +her heaving throat, had some effect upon him. Perhaps, also, he was +thinking of his dead brother. "He is so doggedly obstinate, you see, +Miss Dalrymple! If he would only confess, and tell where it is, +perhaps I'd let him off." + +Alice thought some one else was obstinate. "I do not believe he has +anything to confess," she deliberately said; "I truly believe that he +has not. He could not have taken it, unseen by me: and when we quitted +the room, I feel sure the bracelet was left in it." + +"It was," said Gerard. "When I left the room, I left the bracelet in +it, so help me Heaven!" + +"And, now, I shall speak," put in Frances Chenevix. "Colonel, if you +press the charge against Gerard, I will go before the magistrate, and +proclaim myself the thief. I vow and protest I will; just to save him. +And you and Sarah could not prosecute _me_, you know." + +"_You_ do well to stand up for him!" retorted the colonel. "You would +not be quite so ready to do it, my Lady Fanny, if you knew something I +could tell you." + +"Oh yes, I should," returned the young lady, with a vivid blush. + +The colonel, beset on all sides, had no choice but to submit; but he +did so with an ill grace, and dashed out of the room with Mr. Pullet +as fiercely as though he had been charging an enemy at full tilt. "The +sentimental apes these women make themselves!" cried he, in his polite +way, when he got Mr. Pullet in private. "Is it not a clear case of +guilt?" + +"In my private opinion, it certainly is," was the reply; "though he +carries it off with a high hand. I suppose, colonel, you still wish +the bracelet to be searched for?" + +"Search in and out, high and low; search everywhere. The rascal! to +dare even to enter my house in secret!" + +"May I be allowed to inquire, colonel, whether the previous +estrangement between you and your nephew had anything to do with money +matters?" + +"No," said the colonel, turning more crusty at the thoughts called up. +"I fixed upon a wife for him, and he wouldn't have her; so I turned +him out-of-doors and stopped his allowance." + +"Oh," was the only comment of Mr. Pullet. + +So Gerard was allowed to go out of the house, a free man. + + +It was the following week, and Saturday night. Thomas was standing at +Colonel Hope's door without his hat, a pastime he much favoured, +chatting sociably with an acquaintance, when he perceived Gerard come +tearing up the street. Thomas's friend backed against the rails and +the spikes, and Thomas himself stood with the door in his hand, ready +to touch his hair to Mr. Gerard, as he passed. Instead of passing, +however, Gerard cleared the steps at a bound, pulled Thomas with +himself inside, shut the door, and double-locked it. + +Thomas was surprised in all ways. Not only at Mr. Hope's coming in at +all, for the colonel had most solemnly interdicted it, but at the +suddenness and strangeness of the action. + +"Cleverly done," quoth Gerard, when he could get his breath. "I saw a +shark after me, Thomas, and had to make a bolt for it. Your having +been at the door saved me." + +Thomas turned pale. "Mr. Gerard, you have locked it, and I'll put up +the chain, if you order me, but I'm afeard it's going again' the law +to keep out them detectives by force of arms." + +"What is the man's head running on now?" returned Gerard. "There are +no detectives after me: it was only a seedy sheriff's officer. Psha, +Thomas! there's no worse crime attaching to me than a slight suspicion +of debt." + +"I'm sure I trust not, sir: only master will have his own way." + +"Is he at home?" + +"He is gone to the opera with my lady. The young ladies are upstairs +alone. Miss Dalrymple has been ill, sir, ever since the bother of the +bracelet, and Lady Frances is staying at home with her." + +"I'll go up and see them. If the colonel and my lady are at the opera, +we shall be snug and safe." + +"Oh, Mr. Gerard, had you better go up, do you think?" the man ventured +to remark. "If the colonel should come to hear of it----" + +"How can he? You are not going to tell him, and I am sure the young +ladies will not. Besides, there's no help for it: I can't go out again +for hours yet. And, Thomas, if any demon should knock and ask for me, +I am gone to--to--an evening party at Putney: went out, you know, by +the other door." + +Thomas watched him run up the stairs, and shook his head, thinking +deeply. "One can't help liking him, with it all; though where could +the bracelet have gone to, if he did not take it?" + +The drawing-rooms were empty, and Gerard made his way to a small room +that Lady Sarah called her boudoir. There they were: Alice buried in +the pillows of an invalid-chair, and Lady Frances careering about the +room, apparently practising some new mode of waltzing. She did not see +him: Gerard danced up to her, took her hands, and joined in it. + +"Oh!" she cried, with a little scream of surprise, "you! Well, I have +stayed at home to some purpose. But how could you think of venturing +within these sacred and forbidden walls? Do you forget that the +colonel threatens us with the terrors of the law, if we suffer you to +enter? You are a bold man, Gerard." + +"When the cat's away, the mice can play," said Gerard, treating them +to a pas seul. + +"Mr. Hope!" remonstrated Alice, lifting her feeble voice. "How can you +indulge in these light spirits while things are so miserable?" + +"Sighing and groaning won't make things better," he answered, sitting +down on a sofa near to Alice. "Here's a seat for you, Fanny; come +along," he added, pulling Frances to his side. "First and foremost, +has anything come to light about that mysterious bracelet?" + +"Net yet," sighed Alice. "But I have no rest: I am in hourly fear of +it." + +"_Fear!_" uttered Gerard, in astonishment. + +Alice winced, and leaned her head upon her hand: she spoke in a low +tone. + +"You must understand what I mean. The affair has been productive of so +much pain and annoyance to me, that I wish it could be ignored for +ever." + +"Though it left me under a cloud," said Gerard. "You must pardon me, +if I cannot agree with you. My constant hope is, that daylight may +soon be let in upon it. I assure you I have specially mentioned it in +my prayers." + +"Pray don't!" reproved Alice. + +"I'm sure I have cause to mention it, for it is sending me into exile. +That, and other things." + +"It is the guilty only who flee, not the innocent," said Frances. "You +don't mean what you say, Gerard." + +"Don't I! There's a certain boat advertised to steam from London +Bridge Wharf tomorrow, wind and weather permitting, and it will steam +me with it. I am compelled to fly my country." + +"Be serious, and say what you mean." + +"Seriously, then, I am over head and ears in debt. You know my uncle +stopped my allowance in the spring, and sent me--metaphorically +speaking--to the dogs. It got wind; ill news always does get wind; I +had a few liabilities, and they have all come down upon me. But for +this confounded bracelet affair, there's no doubt the colonel would +have settled them, rather than let the name of Hope be dubiously +bandied about by the public; he would have expended his ire in growls, +and then gone and paid up. But that resource is over now; and I go to +take up my abode in some renowned colony for desolate Home subjects, +beyond the pale of British lock-ups. Boulogne, or Calais, or Dieppe, +or Ostend; I don't know which of the four I shall stay in: and there +I may be kept for years." + +Neither of the young ladies answered immediately. They saw the facts +were difficult, and that Gerard was only making light of it before +them. + +"How shall you live?" questioned Alice. "You must live there as well +as here: you cannot starve." + +"I shall just escape the starving. I am possessed of a trifle: enough +to keep me on potatoes and salt. Upon my word, it's little more. +Perhaps I may get some writing to do for the newspapers? Don't you +envy me my prospects?" + +"When do you suppose you may return?" inquired Lady Frances. "I ask it +seriously, Gerard." + +"I know no more than you, Fanny. I have no expectations but from the +colonel. Should he never relent, I am caged there for good." + +"And so you have ventured here to tell us this; and to bid us +good-bye?" + +"No; I never thought of venturing here," was the candid answer: "how +could I tell that the Bashaw would be at the opera? A shark set on me +in the street, and I had to run for my life. Thomas happened to be +conveniently at the open door, and I rushed in, and saved myself." + +"A shark!" exclaimed Alice, her inexperience taking the words +literally--"a shark in the street!" Frances Chenevix laughed. + +"One with sharp eyes and nimble feet, Alice, speeding after me with a +polite invitation from one of the law lords. He is watching outside +now." + +"How shall you get away?" wondered Frances. + +"If the Bashaw comes home before twelve, Thomas must dispose of me +somewhere in the lower regions: Sunday is a free day for us, thank +goodness. So please to make the most of me, both of you, for it is the +last time you will have the privilege. By the way, Fanny, will you do +me a favour? There used to be a little book of mine in the glass +book-case in the library; my name in it, and a mottled cover: I wish +you would go and find it for me." + +Lady Frances left the room with alacrity. Gerard immediately bent over +Alice, and his tone changed. + +"I have sent her away on purpose. She'll be half-an-hour rummaging, +for I have not seen the book there for ages. Alice, one word before we +part. You must know that it was for your sake I refused the marriage +proposed to me by my uncle: you will not let me go into banishment +without a hope; a promise of your love to lighten it." + +"Oh, Gerard," she eagerly said, "I am so glad you have spoken: I +almost think I must have spoken myself, if you had not. Just look at +me?" + +"I am looking at you," he fondly answered. + +"Then look at my hectic face; my constantly tired limbs; my sickly +hands: do they not plainly tell you that the topics you would speak of +must be barred topics to me?" + +"Why should they be? You will get stronger." + +"Never. There is no hope of it. Many years ago, when the illness first +came upon me, the doctors said I might grow better with time, but the +time has come, and come, and come, and--gone; and it has only left me +a more confirmed invalid. To an old age I cannot live; most probably +but a few years. Ask yourself, Gerard, if I am one who ought to marry, +and leave behind a husband to regret me; perhaps children. No, no." + +"You are cruel, Alice." + +"The cruelty would be, if I selfishly allowed you to talk of love to +me; or, still more selfishly, let you cherish hopes that I would +marry. When you hinted at this the other evening, the evening that +wretched bracelet was lost, I reproached myself with cowardice, in not +answering more plainly than you had spoken. I should have told you, +Gerard, as I tell you now, that nothing, no persuasion from even the +dearest person on earth, shall ever induce me to marry." + +"You dislike me. I see that." + +"I did not say so," answered Alice, with a glowing cheek. "I think it +very possible that--if I could allow myself ever to dwell on such +things--I should like you very much; perhaps better than I could like +any one." + +"And why will you not?" he persuasively uttered. + +"Gerard, I have told you. I am too weak and sickly to be other than I +am. It would be a sin, in me, to indulge hopes of it: it would only be +deceiving myself and you. No, Gerard, my love and hopes must lie +elsewhere." + +"Where?" he eagerly asked. + +Alice pointed upwards. "I am learning to look upon it as my home," she +whispered, "and I must not suffer hindrances to obscure the way. It +will be a better home than even your love, Gerard." + +Gerard Hope smiled. "Even than my love: Alice, you like me more than +you admit. Unsay your words, my dearest, and give me hope." + +"Do not vex me," she resumed, in a pained tone; "do not seek to turn +me from my duty. I--I--though I scarcely like to speak of these sacred +things, Gerard--_I have put my hand to the plough_: even you cannot +turn me back." + +He did not answer; he only played with the hand he held between both +of his. + +"Tell me one thing, Gerard: it will be safe. Was not the dispute about +Frances Chenevix?" + +He contracted his brow; and nodded. + +"And you could refuse her! You must learn to love her, for she would +make you a good wife." + +"Much chance there is now of my making a wife of any one!" + +"Oh, this will blow over in time: I feel it will. Meanwhile----" + +"Meanwhile you destroy every hopeful feeling I thought to take with me +to cheer me in my exile," was his impatient interruption. "I love you +alone, Alice; I have loved you for months, nay years, truly, +fervently; and I know that you must have seen that I did." + +"Love me still, Gerard," she softly answered; "but not with the love +you would give to one of earth: the love you will give--I hope--to +Frances Chenevix. Think of me as one rapidly going; soon to be gone." + +"Oh, not yet!" he cried in an imploring tone, as if it were to be as +she willed. + +"Not just yet: I hope to see you return from exile. Let us say +farewell while we are alone." + +She spoke the last sentence hurriedly, for footsteps were heard. +Gerard snatched her to him, and laid his face upon hers. + +"What cover did you say the book had?" demanded Frances Chenevix of +Gerard, who was then leaning back on the sofa, apparently waiting for +her. "A mottled? I cannot see one anything like it." + +"No? I am sorry to have given you the trouble, Fanny. It has gone, +perhaps, amongst the 'have-beens.'" + +"Listen," said Alice, removing her hand from before her face, "I hear +a carriage stopping. Can they have come home?" + +Frances and Gerard flew into the next room, whence the street could be +seen. A carriage had stopped, but not at their house. "It is too early +for them yet," said Gerard. + +"I am sorry things go so cross just now with you, Gerard," whispered +Lady Frances. "You will be very dull over there." + +"Ay; fit to hang myself, if you knew all. And the bracelet may turn +up, and Lady Sarah be sporting it on her arm again, and I never know +that the cloud is off me. No chance that any of you will be at the +trouble of writing to a fellow." + +"I will," said Frances. "Whether the bracelet turns up, or not, I will +write to you sometimes, if you like, Gerard, and give you all the +news." + +"You are a good girl, Fanny," returned he, in a brighter accent, "and +I will send you my address as soon as I possess one. You are not to +turn proud, mind, and be off the bargain, if you find it to be in a +fish-market, au cinquième." + +Frances laughed. "Take care of yourself, Gerard." + +He took leave of them, and got out by the aid of Thomas, contriving to +elude the shark. And the next day the friendly steamer conveyed him +into exile on other shores. The prevalent opinion at Colonel Hope's +was, that he paid his expenses with the proceeds of the diamond +bracelet. + +Perhaps it was not only the "bother of the bracelet" as Thomas phrased +it, that was rendering Alice Dalrymple so miserable. That, of course, +was bad enough to bear, from its very uncertainty. But she was in +trouble about her sister. Selina's debts had become known to the +world, and the embarrassment into which they had flung her husband. +What with her seven thousand pounds (at least) of debts, and the +liabilities cast on Oscar by the two London seasons, he owed a sum of +ten thousand pounds. + +How was he to pay it? He knew not. That he should be a crippled man +for years and years, obliged to live in the nearest possible way, +before the debts and their attendant costs, in the shape of interest +and expenses, could be worked off, he knew. Selina knew it now, and +had the grace to feel repentant. They had shut themselves up at Moat +Grange, were "immured in it," Selina called it, every outlay of every +kind being cut down. + +All these things tried Alice; and would try her more as the days went +on. There was no corner on earth to which she could turn for comfort. + +In the silent watches of the night, in the broad glare of noonday, one +question was ever tormenting her brain--which of the two had taken the +bracelet? Impossible though it seemed to suspect either of stealing +it, emphatically though they both denied it, common sense told Alice +Dalrymple that one of them it must have been. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. +AN UNPLEASANT RUMOUR. + + +Once more a year has gone its round, bringing again to London all the +stir and bustle of another season. It is a lovely afternoon towards +the close of May, and there is some slight commotion in Chenevix +House. Only the commotion of an unexpected arrival. Lady Mary +Cleveland, with her infant child and its nurse, had come up from +Netherleigh on a short visit. The infant, barely four weeks old yet, +was a very small and fretful young gentleman, who had chosen to make +his appearance in the world two good months before the world expected +him. + +No one was at home but Lady Grace. She ran down the stairs to welcome +her sister. + +"My dear Mary! I am so glad to see you! We did not expect you until +Monday. You are doubly welcome." + +"I thought it would make no difference--my coming a few days earlier, +and without warning you," said Lady Mary, as she kissed her elder +sister. "I am not very strong, Grace, and Mr. Forth has been anxious +that I should have a change. This morning was so warm and fine, and I +felt so languid, that he said to me, 'Why not start today?' So he and +my husband packed me off, whether I would or no. Where's mamma?" + +"Mamma is out somewhere. Gone to see the pictures, I think," added +Grace, as Lady Mary turned, of her own accord, into a small, cosy +sitting-room that used to belong to the girls, and which they had +nicknamed "The Hut." "Harriet is with her." + +Lady Mary looked surprised. "Harriet! Are the MacIvors here?" + +"Oh dear, yes; staying with us. They came up from Scotland on Monday." + +"I am rather sorry I came, then. It may be an inconvenience. And there +won't be a bit of quiet in the house." + +"It will be no inconvenience at all, Mary--what are you thinking of? +You are to have your old room, and the baby the room next it. As to +the house, it shall be as quiet as you please. I assure you it is +wonderfully changed, in that respect, since all you girls were at home +together." + +"That time seems ages ago," remarked Lady Mary. + +"What light-headed, frivolous girls we were--and how life's cares +change us! Fancy our all marrying and leaving you behind!" + +"There's Frances also." + +"I forgot Frances. She is at Sarah's, I suppose, as usual. She will be +marrying next, no doubt. _I_ always thought she would be one of the +first to marry, though she is the youngest except Adela. And then it +will be your turn, Grace." + +Grace slightly shook her head. "It will never be mine, Mary--as I +believe. I have settled down into an old maid--and I feel like one. I +would rather not marry now; at least, I think so. The time has gone by +for it." + +"What nonsense you talk! Why, you are only about three or four and +thirty, Grace, though you are the eldest. A woman is not too old to +marry, at that age." + +"Well, I am not anxious to marry," replied Grace. "Papa and mamma +should have one of us with them in their old age; and Frances will no +doubt marry. It will, I know, be all as God pleases. Morning by +morning as I get up, I put myself into His good care, and beseech Him +to undertake for me--to use me as He will." + +Lady Mary Cleveland smiled. This was all very right, of course--Grace +had always had a religious corner in her heart. + +"And now tell me all the news of Netherleigh," began Grace, when her +sister had taken some refreshment, and the small mite of a baby was +asleep, and they were back again in "The Hut," Mary lying on the sofa. +"How is Aunt Margery?" + +"You have had this room refurnished!" cried Mary, looking about +her--at the bright carpet and chintz curtains. + + "Yes, this spring. It +was so very shabby." + +"It is very pretty now. Aunt Margery?--oh, she is fairly well. Not too +strong, I fancy. I went to the Court yesterday and had lunch with her. +She is my baby's godmother." + +"Is she? The baby's christened, then?" + +"As if we should bring him away from home if he were not! You will +laugh at his old-fashioned name, Grace--Thomas." + +"Thomas is a very good name. It is your husband's." + +"Yes--and not one of his first wife's children bear it. So I thought +it high time this one should." + +"Why did your husband not bring you up today?" + +"Because he has two funerals this afternoon--people are sure to die at +the wrong time," added Lady Mary, quaintly. "And the vicar of the next +parish, who is always ready to help him, is away this week." + +"And the godfathers?--who are they, Mary?" + +"My husband is one of them: he has stood to all his children. The +other is Oscar Dalrymple." + +"Oscar Dalrymple?" echoed Grace. + +"Yes. He is not a general favourite; but Mr. Cleveland likes him. And +he thinks he has behaved very well in this wretched business of +Selina's. The one we should have preferred to have for godfather, we +did not like to ask--if you can understand that apparent +contradiction, Gracie?" + +"And who was that?" asked Grace, looking up. + +"Francis Grubb. He has been so very, very kind to us, and we like and +respect him so greatly, above all other men on the face of the earth, +that we quite longed to ask him to stand to the poor little waif. On +the other hand, he is so wealthy and so generous, that my husband +thought it might look like coveting more benefits. And so we fixed on +Mr. Dalrymple." + +Grace mused. + +"I never use my beautiful pony-carriage but I feel grateful to Mr. +Grubb," went on Lady Mary. "And look how good he has been in regard to +Charles!" + +A slight frown at the last word contracted Grace's fair and open brow, +as though the name brought her some sort of discomfort. It was +smoothed away at once. + +"Are the Dalrymples at Moat Grange?" she asked. + +"Still there; living like hermits, in the most inexpensive manner +possible, with two servants only--or three, I forget which. Two maids, +I think it is; and a man who has to do the garden--as much as one man +can do of it--and feed the two pigs, and milk the cow, and see to the +cocks and hens." + +A smile crossed Grace's lips. "Does Selina like that kind of life?" + +"Selina has to like it; at any rate, to put up with it, and she does +it with a good grace. It is she who has reduced Oscar to poverty; the +least she can do is to share in his retirement and retrenchments +without murmuring. Oscar is trying to let Moat Grange, but does not +seem able to succeed. His own little place, Knutford, was let for a +term of years when he came into Moat Grange, so they cannot retire to +that." + +"It was very sad of Selina to act so," sighed Grace. + +"It was unpardonable," corrected Lady Mary. "She knew how limited her +husband's income was. Thoughtlessness runs in the Dalrymple family. +Poor Mrs. Dalrymple wanted to give up the cottage and the income Oscar +allows her, and go out into the world to shift for herself; but Oscar +would not hear of it. We respect him for it. Close he may be, rather +crabbed in temper; but he has a keen sense of honour. It is said his +debts amount to ten thousand pounds." + +"Ten thousand pounds!" almost screamed Grace. + +"Quite that. Though indeed I should have said Selina's debts, rather +than his. Mr. Grubb's sister, Mary Lynn, comes sometimes to +Netherleigh, to spend a week with Mrs. Dalrymple--who was to have been +Mary's mother-in-law, you know, had things gone straight with Robert. +What a sweet girl she is!" + +"I have always thought Mary Lynn that, since I knew her." + +"Do you see Alice Dalrymple often?" continued Lady Mary. + +"Pretty often, except when the Hopes are in Gloucestershire. Alice +looks very delicate." + +"The colonel is not reconciled to Gerard yet?" + +"No; and not likely to be. Poor Gerard is somewhere abroad." + +"And that mysterious bracelet of Sarah's--I conclude it has never come +to light. Grace," added Lady Mary, dropping her voice, "is it still +thought that Gerard helped himself to it?" + +Grace shook her head. "The colonel thinks so. And as long as he does +he will never forgive him, or take him back to favour." + +"Well, I don't know that he could be expected to. Poor Gerard! If he +did do it, he must have been reduced to some pitiable strait. And my +husband's boy, Charley--do you see much of him, Grace?" + +"Oh, we see him now and then," replied Grace, in a tone of constraint. + +"Adela has quite taken him up, we find. It is a relief to us, for we +feared she might not; might even, we thought, resent having him in the +house. How kind Mr. Grubb was over that; how considerately +thoughtful!" continued Lady Mary. "None can know how truly good he +is?" + +"You are right there," acquiesced Grace. "But he does not always find +his reward." + +"How does Adela behave to him now?" questioned Lady Mary, who had +understood the last remark to apply to her sister Adela; and again she +dropped her voice as she asked it. + +"Just as usual. There's no improvement in her." + +The previous summer, when the marriage of Lady Mary Chenevix took +place with Mr. Cleveland, he, the Rector, came up the day before it, +and stayed at Mr. Grubb's by invitation, to be in readiness for the +morrow's ceremony. Mr. Grubb liked the Rector: he had felt deeply +sorry for him when he was left a widower with so many children, and +was glad he was going to have a new helpmate and they a second mother. +That night, as they sat talking together after dinner--Adela being at +her mother's, deep in all the wedding paraphernalia--the Rector opened +his heart and his sorrows to Mr. Grubb: what a care his children were +to him, and what he should do to place his many sons out in life. +Charles, the second, was chiefly on his mind now. The eldest son, +Harry, was in the army, and getting on well; expected to get his +company soon. Charles, who was then twenty years of age, had been +intended for the Church, but he had never taken to the idea kindly, +and was now evincing a most unconquerable dislike to it. "I cannot +force him into it," said the Rector, sadly. "I must find some other +opening for him. He must go out and begin to earn a living somehow--I +have too many of them at home. I suppose,"--he added, in a hesitating +tone of deprecation--"you could not make room for him in Leadenhall +Street?" But Mr. Grubb told the Rector that he would gladly make room +for him; and, amid the grateful thanks of the Rector, it was decided +upon, there and then, Mr. Grubb being most liberal in his +arrangements. "I must find him a lodging," said the Rector; "perhaps +some family would take him and board him." "No, no; he had better come +here," said Mr. Grubb; "provided Adela makes no objection. Strange +lodgings are the ruin of many a young fellow--and will be of many +more. London lodgings are no true home for young men; they take to +going abroad at night out of sheer loneliness, get exposed to the +temptations of this most dangerous city, teeming with its specious +allurements, and fall helplessly into its evil ways. Your son, Mr. +Cleveland, shall come here and be sheltered from the danger, if my +wife will have him." + +Lady Adela apathetically consented, when the proposal was made to her; +the lad might come if he liked, she did not care, was all she +answered. And so Charles Cleveland came: and his father believed and +declared that no man had ever been so good and generous as Mr. Grubb. + +A tall, slender, gentlemanly, dark-eyed, very handsome and somewhat +idle young fellow Mr. Charles Cleveland turned out to be. He took well +enough to his duties in the counting-house; far better than he had +taken to Latin and Greek and theology; and Mr. Grubb was as kind to +him as could be; and the more active partner, Mr. Howard, not too +severe. + +But at the close of winter, when Charles Cleveland had been some +months located in Grosvenor Square, Lady Adela began to show herself +very foolish. She struck up a flirtation with him. Whether it was done +out of sheer ennui at the prolonged cold weather, or in very +thoughtlessness, or by way of inventing another source of vexation for +her husband, Adela set up a strong flirtation with Charles Cleveland, +and the world was already talking of it and laughing at it. The +matter, absurd though it was in itself, was vexing Grace Chenevix, and +her sister's mention of Charley brought the vexation before her. + +"We heard something about Adela last week," spoke Lady Mary, +maintaining her low tone, "not at all creditable to her: but we hope +it is not true." + +Grace Chenevix felt her face flush. She assumed that her sister +alluded to what was filling her thoughts, and she would have been glad +to be spared speaking of it. + +"It is only nonsense, Mary. It comes of sheer idle thoughtlessness on +Adela's part, nothing more. Rely upon that." + +"I am glad to hear you say so, Grace. But--do you ever go there with +her?" + +"Go where with her?" + +"To Lady Sanely's." + +The two sisters gazed at one another. They were at cross-purposes. + +"To Lady Sanely's?" exclaimed Grace, in surprise. "I don't go there +with Adela; I don't go there at all. Mamma has scarcely any +acquaintance with Lady Sanely." + +"Then how can you speak so confidently?" returned Mary Cleveland. +"Adela may be quite deep in the mischief, for all you know." + +"Mary, I do not understand you. You must explain what you mean." + +"It is said," whispered Mary, glancing round at the walls, as if to +reassure herself no one else was present, "that Adela has taken to +gambling. That----" + +"To gambling?" gasped Grace. + +Lady Mary nodded. "It is said that gambling to a very dangerous extent +is carried on at Lady Sanely's and that Adela has been drawn into the +snare, and goes there nightly, and plays deeply. How do you think we +heard this?" + +"Heaven knows!" cried poor Grace, feeling a conviction that it might +be true. + +"From Harry; my husband's eldest son. He has got his promotion at +last, as perhaps you know, and is daily expecting orders to embark for +India. He ran down last week to see us, and it was he who mentioned +it. My husband told him to be careful; that it could not be true. +Harry maintained that it was true, and was, moreover, quite well +known. He said he thought Lord Acorn was aware of it--but that Mr. +Grubb was not." + +"Papa _cannot_ be aware of it," disputed Grace. + +"Don't make too sure of it, Grace. Papa does a little in that line +himself, you know; he may not look upon it in the dreadful light that +you do, or that we people do in a rustic parsonage. Anyway, Harry says +there's no mistake about Adela." + +"Mr. Grubb ought to be warned--that he may save her." + +"It is what my husband says--that Mr. Grubb ought to be told. I hope +Adela has enough petty sins on her conscience!" + +"This the worst of all. She may ruin her husband, rich though he is." + +"As poor Robert Dalrymple ruined himself. Scarcely that, however, in +this case, Gracie. Mr. Grubb cannot be brought to ruin blindfold by +his wife: and it strikes me he will take very good care, for her sake +as well as his own, that she does not bring him to it. But he ought to +be told without delay." + +Grace Chenevix fell into one of the most unpleasant reveries she had +ever experienced. Adela went often to Lady Sanely's; she knew that. +Another moment, and Lord Acorn came in. + +"Papa," cried Lady Mary, after she had greeted her father, "we were +talking of Adela. A rumour reached us at Netherleigh that she was +growing too fond of card-playing. It is carried on to a high extent at +Lady Sanely's house, we are led to believe, and that Adela is often +there, and joining in it." + +"Ay, they go in for tolerably high stakes at Lady Sanely's," replied +the earl, in his careless, not to say supercilious manner. "Very silly +of Adela!" + +"It is true then, papa!" gasped Grace. + +"True enough," he remarked. "I dare say, though, Adela can take care +of her purse-strings, and draw them in when necessary." + +"How indifferent papa is!" thought Grace, with a sigh. + +She was anything but indifferent. She was thinking what it might be +best to do; how save Adela from further folly. After dinner, when the +carriage came round to take her mother and Harriet to a small early +gathering at old Lady Cust's, and Mary, tired with her day's journey, +had retired for the night, Grace suddenly spoke. + +"Mamma, I think, if you have no objection, I will go with you in the +carriage and let it leave me at Adela's. I should like to sit an hour +with her." + +"I have no objection," was the answer of Lady Acorn, spoken rather +tartly; as usual; for she lived in a chronic state of dissatisfaction +with her daughter Adela. "Go, if you like. And just give her a hint to +mend her manners, Grace, with regard to that boy." + +"_That_ is pure idle pastime," was the mental comment of Grace +Chenevix. "This other may be worse." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. +FLIRTATION. + + +They stood together in the dusk of the evening, the tempter and the +deceived. Really it is not too much so to designate them. She, one of +the fairest of earth's fair daughters, leaned in a listless attitude +against the window-frame, looking out on the square. Perhaps, +listening: for a woman of misery, with three children round her, was +singing her doleful ditty there, and gazing up at the noble mansion as +if she hoped some poor mite might be dropped to her from its +superfluity of wealth. The children were thin and haggard, with that +sharp, pinching look of _age_ in their faces so unsuited to childhood, +and which never comes but from famine and long-continued wretchedness. +The mother--she was little more than a girl--made a halt opposite the +window: her eye had caught the beautiful face enshrined there amidst +the curtains, and she sang out louder and more piteously than ever. + +"Now I think that's real--no imposture--none of those made-up cases +that the Mendicity Society look up and expose." + +The remark came from a young man, who was likewise looking out, a very +good-looking fellow of prepossessing countenance. There was an air of +tenderness in his manner as he spoke, implying tenderness of heart for +her who stood by him. And the Lady Adela roused herself, and +carelessly asked, "What's real?" For her mind and thoughts had been +dwelling on invisible and absent things, and the poverty and the +singing had remained to her as though they had not been. + +"That poor wretch there, and those famished children. That one--the +boy--looks as if he had not tasted food for a week. See how he fixes +his eyes up here! I am sure they are famished." + +"Oh, Charles, don't talk so! Street beggars ought not to be allowed to +bring the sight of their misery here. It makes one shiver. They should +confine themselves to the City, and similar low parts." + +"What's that about the City," inquired Mr. Grubb, who had entered and +caught the last words; while the young man, Charley Cleveland, moving +listlessly towards a distant window, stealthily threw a shilling from +it and then quitted the room. + +"Street beggars," answered Adela. "I say they ought not to be allowed +out of the City, exposing their rags and their wretchedness to us! It +is too bad." + +"The City is much obliged to you," said her husband, in a marked +manner, as if implying that he belonged to it. And the Lady Adela +shrugged her shoulders in very French fashion, the gesture betraying +contempt for the speaker and his words. + +"Adela," he said, quietly drawing her to a sofa and sitting down +beside her, "I have long wanted a few minutes' serious talk with you; +and I have put it off from day to day, for the subject is full of pain +to me, as it ought to be to you. Of shame, I had almost said." + +She turned her lovely eyes upon him. He could see the hard and defiant +expression they took, even in the twilight gloom. + +"You may spare yourself the trouble of a lecture--if that is what you +intend. It will do me no good." + +"Whether it will do you good or not, you must hear it. Your +behaviour----" + +She interrupted him, humming a merry tune. + +"Adela, listen to me," he resumed; and perhaps it was the first time +she had heard from him so peremptory a tone. "Your behaviour is not +what it ought to be; it is not wise or seemly; and you must alter it." + +"So you have told me ever since we were married, all the four years +and odd months," she said, with a half-playful, half-mocking laugh. + +"Of your behaviour to me I have told you so repeatedly and uselessly +that I have now dropped the subject for ever. What I would speak of is +your behaviour to young Cleveland. The world is beginning to notice +it; and, Adela, what is objectionable in it _shall_ be discontinued." + +"There is nothing objectionable--except in your imagination." + +"There is: and you know it, Adela. You may treat me as you like; I +cannot, unfortunately, alter that; but I will guard _you_ from being +talked about. As to Cleveland----" + +"Charley," she broke in, turning her head to look for him; "Charley, +do you hear my husband? He would like to---- I thought Charley was +here." + +"Had he been here, I should not have spoken," was Mr. Grubb's reply, +signs of mortification on his refined and sensitive lips. + +"Is your rôle going to be that of a jealous husband at last?" + +"No," he replied. "You have striven, with unnecessary endeavour, to +deaden the love for you which once filled my heart; if that love has +not turned to gall and bitterness, it is not your fault. This is not a +case for jealousy, Adela. You must know that. _I_ jealous of a +schoolboy!" + +"What is it a case of, then?" + +"Your fair reputation. That shall be cared for in the eyes of the +world." + +"There is no necessity for your caring for it," she retorted. "My +reputation--and your honour--are perfectly safe in my own keeping. +There lives not a man who could bring disgrace upon me. You are out of +your senses, Mr. Grubb." + +"That my honour is safe, I do not doubt," he returned, drawing himself +slightly up. "Forgive me, if my words could have borne any other +construction. I speak only of your reputation for folly--frivolity. +The world is laughing at you: and I do not choose that it shall +laugh." + +A shade of annoyance flashed into her pretty face. "The world is +nothing to me. It had better laugh at itself." + +"Perfectly true. But I must take care it does not laugh at you. Your +mother spoke to me today about Charles Cleveland. She called you a +child, Adela; and she said, if I did not interfere and put a stop to +it, she should." + +"Let my mother mind her own affairs," was Adela's answer, full of +resentment. "She can dictate to the two who are left to her, but not +to the rest of us. When we married, we passed out of her control." + +"Surely not. Your mother is always your mother." + +"Pray where did you see her? Has it come to secret meetings, in which +my conduct is discussed?" + +"Nonsense, Adela! Lady Acorn came to see me in Leadenhall Street, but +upon other matters." + +"And so you got up a nice little mare's-nest between you! That I was +too fond of Charles Cleveland, and ought to be put in irons for it!" + +"That you were too _free_ with him, Adela," corrected her husband. +"That your manners with him, chiefly in this your own house, were +losing that reserve which ought to temper them, though he is but a +boy. It was she who said the world was laughing at you." + +"And what did you say?" asked Lady Adela, with an ill-concealed sneer. + +"I said nothing," he replied, a sort of sadness in his tone. "I could +have said that the subject had for some little time been to me a +source of annoyance; and I might have added that if I had refrained +from remonstrance, it was because remonstrance from me to my wife had +ever been worse than useless." + +"That's true enough, sir. Then why attempt it now?" + +"For your own sake. And in years to come, when time shall have brought +to you sense and feeling, you will thank me for being more careful of +your fair fame than you seem inclined to be yourself. I do not wish to +pursue the subject, Adela; let the hint I have given you avail. Be +more circumspect in your manners to young Cleveland. You know +perfectly well that you are pursuing this senseless flirtation with +him for one sole end--to vex me: you really care no more for him than +for the wind that passes. But society, you see, not being behind the +scenes, may be apt to attribute other motives to you. Change your +tactics; _be true to yourself_; and then----" + +"And then? Well?" + +"I shall not be called upon to interpose my authority. To do so would +be against my inclination and Charles Cleveland's interests." + +"_Your_ authority?" she retorted, in a blaze of scorn--for if there +was one thing that put out Lady Adela more than another it was to be +lectured: and she certainly did not like to be told that the world was +laughing at her. "Have I ever altered my manners for any authority you +could bring to bear?--do you suppose that I shall alter them now? Go +and preach to your people in the City, if you must preach somewhere." + +"Lady Grace Chenevix," interrupted the groom of the chambers, throwing +wide the door. + +"You are all in the dark!" exclaimed Grace. "I took the chance of +finding you at home, Adela. Mamma and Harriet are gone to the Dowager +Cust's." + +"I am glad you came, Grace," said Mr. Grubb, ringing for lights. "I +wanted to look in at the club for half-an-hour: you will stay with +Lady Adela." + +"Grace," to his sister-in-law, "_Lady_ Adela" to his wife: what did +that tell? Anyway, it told that he had been provoked almost beyond +bearing. + +"Mary came up this afternoon, taking us by surprise," began Grace, as +Mr. Grubb left the room, and the man retired after lighting the +wax-lights. "She does not seem strong; and the baby is such a poor +little thing----" + +"Pray are you a party to this conspiracy between my mother and him?" +unceremoniously interposed Adela, with a motion of her hand towards +the door by which her husband had disappeared, to indicate whom she +meant; and the words were the first she had condescended to speak to +her sister since her entrance. + +"Conspiracy! I don't know of any," answered Grace, wondering what was +coming. + +"Had you been a few moments earlier, you would have found him holding +forth about Charley Cleveland. And he said my mother went to him in +the City today to put him up to it." + +"Oh, if you mean about Charley Cleveland, I was going to speak to you +of it myself. You are getting quite absurd about him, Adela. Or he is +about you. It was said at Brookes's the other day that Charley +Cleveland was losing his head for Lady Adela Grubb." + +Lady Adela laughed. "Who said it, Gracie?" + +"Oh, I don't know; a lot of them were together. Captain Foster, and +John Cust, and Lord Deerham, and Booby Charteris, and others. It seems +Charley was a little overcome the previous evening. He and his brother +had been dining with the Guards, very freely, and afterwards they went +to--I forget the place--somewhere that young men go to of an evening, +and Charley finished himself up with brandy and cigars; and then he +managed to hiccup out, that the only angel living upon earth was Lady +Adela Grubb." + +"And that's all!" she said lightly--"that Charley called me an angel! +I told him it was a mare's-nest." + +"No; it is not all," quickly answered Lady Grace. "It might be all, if +it were not for your folly. I have seen Charley hold your hand in his; +I have seen him kiss it; I have seen him bend forward and whisper to +you until his hair has all but touched yours. It is very bad, Adela." + +"It is very amusing; it serves to pass away the time," laughed Adela. +"And, pray, Grace, how came you to know so much of what they say and +do at their clubs?" + +"That's one of the annoying parts of it. Colonel Hope heard it; he was +present. He went home, shocked and scared, to tell Sarah; and Sarah +came yesterday morning and told mamma." + +"Shocked and scared too? I should like to have seen Sarah's long +face!" + +"You should have seen mamma's. No wonder she went down to your +husband. But that is not all yet, Adela. One of them, I think it +was Lord Deerham--whoever it was, had dined here a night or two +before--told the others that you flirted with Charley desperately +before your husband's eyes, and that while you showed favour to one +you snubbed the other." + +"And it's true," coolly avowed Adela. "I like Charley Cleveland, and +I _choose_ to flirt with him. But if you strait-coated people think I +have any wrong liking for him, you err woefully. Grace, all this is +but idle talk. I shall never compromise myself by so much as a +hazardous word, for Charley, or for any one else. I have just told him +so." + +"Pleasant! the necessity for such an assertion to one's lord and +master!" + +"I never loved any one in my life; and I'm sure I am not going to +begin now. Not even Captain Stanley--though I did have a passing +liking for him. Perhaps you will be surprised to hear, Grace, that +there were odd moments in my life during the first year or two after +my marriage, when I was nearer loving Francis Grubb than I had been of +loving any one--only that I had set out by steeling my heart against +him." + +Grace gazed at her sister wonderingly. + +"But that's all past: and of love I feel none for any mortal man, and +don't mean to feel it. But I like amusement--and I am amusing myself +with Charley Cleveland." + +"You have no right to do it, Adela. What is but sport to you, as it +seems, may be death to him." + +"That is his look-out," laughed Adela. "My private belief is, if you +care to know it, that my husband was thinking as much of Charley as of +me when he took upon himself to lecture me just now. Of the +consequences to Charley's vulnerable and boyish heart; though he did +put it upon me and on what the world might say." + +"How grievously you must try your husband!" exclaimed Grace. + +"He's used to it." + +"You provoking woman! You'll never go to heaven, I should say, if only +for your treatment of him. Adela, you made your vows before Heaven to +love and honour him: how do you fulfil them?" + +"I heard the other day you had turned Methodist: Bessy Cust came in +and said it. I am sorry I contradicted it," cried the provoking Adela. + +"You cannot set the world at defiance." + +"I don't mean to. As to Charley dancing attendance on me, or kissing +my hand--what harm is there in it?" + +"That may be according to one's own notion of 'harm.' Even the most +trifling approach to flirting is entirely unseemly in a married +woman." + +"Are you quite a competent judge--not being married yourself?" +rejoined Adela. "See here, Grace--if you never flirt more with any one +than Charley flirts with me, you won't hurt." + +"I am afraid he has learnt to _love_ you, Adela." + +"Then more silly, he, for his pains. Why, I am oceans of years older +than Charley is. He ought to think of me as his grandmother." + +"_Can't_ you be serious, child? I want you to see the thing in its +proper--or, rather, improper--light. When it comes to a man, other +than your husband, kissing you, it is time---- + +"Who said Charley kissed me?" retorted Adela, in a blaze of anger. "He +has never done such a thing--never dared to attempt it. I said he +kissed my hand sometimes--and then it has generally had a glove upon +it." + +"Well, well, whatever the nonsense may be, you must give it up, Adela. +There can be no objection on your part to doing so, as you say you do +not care for Charles Cleveland." + +"Incorrect, Lady Grace. I do care for him; I enjoy his friendship +amazingly. What I said was, that I did not love him. That would be too +absurd." + +"Call it flirtation, don't call it friendship," wrathfully retorted +Grace. "And he must be devoid of brains as a calf, to attach himself +to you, if he has done it. I hope nothing of this will reach the ears +of Mary or of his father. They would not believe him capable of such +folly. From this hour, Adela, you must give it up." + +"Just what Mr. Grubb has been good enough to tell me; but 'must' is a +word I do not understand," lightly rejoined Adela. "Neither you nor he +will make me break off my flirtation with Charles Cleveland. I shall +go into it all the more to spite you." + +"If I were Francis Grubb I should beat you, Adela." + +"If!" laughingly echoed Lady Adela. "If you were Francis Grubb, you +would do as he does. Why, Gracie, girl, he loves me passionately +still, for all his assumed indifference. Do you think there are never +moments when he betrays it? He is jealous of Charley; that's what he +is, in spite of his dignified denial--and oh, the fun it is to me to +have made him so!" + +"Adela," said Grace, sadly, "does it never occur to you that this +behaviour may tire your husband out?--that his love and his patience +may give way at last?" + +"I wish they would!" cried the provoking girl, little seeing or +caring, in her reckless humour, what the wish might imply. "I wish he +would go his way and let me go mine, and give me hundreds of thousands +a-year for my own share. He should have the dull rooms in the house +and I the bright ones, and we would only meet at dinner on state +occasions, when the world and his wife came to us." + +Lady Grace felt downright angry. She wondered whether Adela spoke in +her heart's true sincerity. + +"There's no fear of it, Gracie: don't look at me like that. My husband +would no more part company with me, whatsoever I might do, than he +would part with his soul. He loves me too well." + +"It is a positive disgrace to have one's married sister's name coupled +with a flirtation," grumbled Grace: for the Lady Acorn, whatever might +be her failings as to tongue and temper, had brought her daughters up +to the purest and best of notions. "That reverend man, Dr. Short--I +cannot think how it came to _his_ ears--hinted at it today in talking +with mamma when they met at the picture-galleries. He----" + +"There it is!" shouted Adela, in glee; "the murder's out! So it is you +who have been putting mamma up to complain to Mr. Grubb! You are +setting your cap at that sanctimonious Dr. Short, and you fear he +won't see it if you have a naughty sister given to flirting. Oh, +Gracie!" + +"You are wrong; you know you are wrong. How frivolous you are, Adela! +Dr. Short is going to be married to Miss Greatlands." + +"Well, there's something of the sort in the wind, I know. If it's not +the Reverend Dr. Short, it's the Reverend Dr. Long; so don't shake +your head at me, Gracie." + +Dancing across the room, Adela rang the bell. "My carriage," she said +to the servant. + +"It has been waiting some time, my lady." + +"Where are you going?" asked Grace, surprised: + +"To Lady Sanely's." + +"To Lady Sanely's," echoed the elder sister. Then, after a pause, +"Your husband did not know you were going there?" + +"Do you suppose I tell him of my engagements? What next, I wonder?" + +"Oh, Adela!" uttered Grace, rising from her seat--and there was a +piercing sound of grief in her tone, deeper than any which had +characterized it throughout the interview--"do not say you are +going _there!_ Another rumour is rife about you; worse than that +half-nonsensical one about Charles Cleveland; one likely to have a far +graver effect on your welfare and happiness." + +"I--I do not understand," repeated Adela; but her tone, in spite of +its display of haughtiness, betrayed that she did understand, and it +struck terror to the heart of her sister. "I think you are all beside +yourselves today!" + +Grace, greatly agitated, clasped the other's arm as she was turning +away. "It is said, Adela--I have heard it, and papa has confirmed +it--it is rumoured that you have become addicted to a--a--dangerous +vice. Oh, forgive me, Adela! Is it so? You shall not go until you have +answered me." + +The rich colour in Lady Adela's cheeks had faded to paleness; her eyes +dropped; she could not look her sister in the face. From this, her +manner of receiving the accusation, it might be seen how much more +real was this trouble, than the half-nonsensical one, as Grace had +called it, connected with Charles Cleveland. + +"Vice!" she vaguely repeated. + +"That of gaming," spoke Grace, her own voice unsteady in its deep +emotion. "That you play deeply, night by night, at Lady Sanely's." + +"What strong words you use!" gasped Adela, resentfully. "Vice! Just +because I may take a hand at cards now and then!" + +"Oh, my poor sister, my dear sister, you do not know what it may lead +to!" pleaded Grace. "You shall not go forth to Lady Sanely's this +night--do not! do not! Break through this dreadful chain at +once--before it be too late." + +Angry at hearing this amusement of hers had become known at home, +vexed and embarrassed at being pressed, almost by force, to stay away +from its fascinations, Adela flung her sister's arm from her and moved +forward with an impatient gesture of passion. They were near a table, +and her own hand, or that of Grace, neither well knew which, caught in +a beautiful inkstand, and turned it over. The ink was scattered on the +light carpet: an ugly, dark blotch. + +What cared Adela? If the costly carpet was spoiled, _his_ money might +purchase another. She moved on to her dressing-room, caused her maid, +waiting there, to envelop her in her evening mantle, and then swept +down to her carriage. + +That Lady Adela did not care for Charles Cleveland was perfectly true. +She would have laughed at the very idea; she regarded him but as a +pleasant-mannered boy: nevertheless, partly to while away the time, +which sometimes hung heavily on her hands, partly because she hoped it +would vex her husband, whom she but lived to annoy, she had plunged +into the flirtation. + +It was something more on Charley's part. For, while Adela cared not +for him, beyond the passing amusement of the moment, would not have +given to him a regretful thought had he suddenly been removed from her +sight for ever, he had grown to love her to idolatry. It is a strong +expression, but in this case justifiable. Almost as the sun is to the +world, bringing to it light and heat, life to flowers, perfection to +the corn, so had Lady Adela become to him. In her presence he could +alone be said to live; his heart then was at rest, feeding on its own +fulness of happiness, and there he could thankfully have lived and +died, and never asked for change: when obliged to be absent from her, +a miserable void was his, a feverish yearning for the hour that should +bring him to her again. Surely this was most reprehensible on his +part--to have become attached, in this senseless manner, to a married +woman! Reprehensible? Hear what one says of another love; he who knew +so much about love himself--Lord Byron: + + + "Why did she love him? Curious fool, be still: + Is human love the growth of human will?" + + +Could the fault have lain with Lady Adela? Most undoubtedly. She, not +casting a thought to the effect it might have upon his heart, and +secure in her own supreme indifference, purposely threw out the bait +of her beauty and her manifold attractions, and so led him on to +love--a love as true and impassioned as was ever felt by man. What did +he promise himself by it?--what did he think could come of it? +Nothing. He was not capable of cherishing towards her a dishonourable +thought, he had never addressed to her a disloyal word. It was not in +the nature of Charles Cleveland to do anything of the kind; he was +single-minded, single-hearted, chivalrously honourable. He thought of +her as being all that was good and beautiful: to him she seemed to be +without fault, sweet and pure as an angel. To conceal his deep love +for her was beyond his power; eye, tone, manner, tacitly and +unconsciously betrayed it. And Lady Adela, to give her her due, did +not encourage him to more. + +And so, while poor Charley was living on in his fool's paradise, +wishing for nothing, looking for nothing, beyond the exquisite sense +of bliss her daily presence brought him, supremely content could he +have lived on it for ever, Lady Adela already found the affair was +growing rather monotonous. The chances were that had her husband and +Grace not spoken to her, she would very speedily have thrown off +Charley and his allegiance. Adela had no special pursuit whence to +draw daily satisfaction. No home (the French would better express it +by the word ménage) to keep up and contrive for; the hand of wealth +was at work, and all was provided for her to satiety; she had no +children to train and love; she had no husband whom it was a delight +to her to yield to, to please and cherish: worse than all, she had +(let us say _as yet_) no sense of responsibility to a higher Being, +for time and talents wasted. + +A woman cannot be truly happy (or a man either) unless she possesses +some aim in life, some daily source of occupation, be it work or be it +pleasure, to contrive, and act, and live for. Without it she becomes a +vapid, weary, discontented being, full of vague longings for she knows +not what. One of two results is pretty sure to follow--mischief or +misery. Lady Adela was too young and pretty to be miserable, therefore +she turned to mischief. + +Chance brought her an introduction to the Countess of Sanely, with +whom the Chenevix family had no previous acquaintance, and who had a +reputation for loving high card-playing and for encouraging it at her +house: she and Adela grew intimate, and Adela was drawn into the +disastrous pursuit. At first she liked it well enough; it was +fascinating, it was new: and now, when perhaps she was beginning to be +a little afraid and would fain have retreated, she did not see her way +clear to do so: for she owed money that she could not pay. + +Lady Grace Chenevix, unceremoniously left alone in her sister's +drawing-room, rang the bell. It was to tell them to attend to the ink. +The carriage was not coming for her till eleven o'clock, and it was +now but half-past ten. Hers were not very pleasant thoughts with which +to get through the solitary half-hour. Mr. Grubb came in, and inquired +for his wife. Grace said she had gone out. + +"What, and left you alone! Where's she gone to?" + +"To Lady Sanely's." + +"Who are these Sanelys, Grace?" he inquired as he sat down. "Adela +passes four or five nights a-week there. The other evening I took up +my hat to accompany her, and she would not have it. What sort of +people are they?" + +"Four or five nights a-week," mechanically repeated Grace, passing +over his question. "And at what time does she get home?" + +"At all hours. Sometimes very late." + +Grace sat communing with herself. Should she impart this matter of +uneasiness to Mr. Grubb, or should she be silent, and let things take +their chance; which of the two courses would be more conducive to the +interests of Adela; for she was indeed most anxious for her. She +looked up at him, at his noble countenance, betraying commanding sense +and intellect--surely to impart the truth to such a man was to make a +confidant of one able to do for her sister all that could be done. Mr. +Cleveland and Mary both said he ought to hear it without delay. And +Grace's resolution was taken. + +"Mr. Grubb," she said, her voice somewhat unsteady, "Adela is your +wife and my sister; we have both, therefore, her true welfare at +heart. I have been deliberating whether I should speak to you upon a +subject which--which--gives me uneasiness, and I believe I ought to do +so." + +"Stay, Grace," he interrupted. "If it is--about--Cleveland, I would +rather not enter upon it. Lady Acorn spoke to me today, and I have +given a hint to Adela." + +"Oh no, it is not that. She goes on in a silly way with him, but +there's no harm in it, only thoughtlessness. I am _sure_ of it." + +He nodded his head, in acquiescence, and began pacing the room. + +"It is of her intimacy with Lady Sanely that I would speak; these +frequent visits there. Do you know what they say?" + +"No," he replied, assuming great indifference, his thoughts apparently +directed to placing his feet on one particular portion of the pattern +of the carpet, and to nothing else. + +"They say--they do say"--Grace faltered, hesitated: she hated to do +this, and the question flashed across her, could she still avoid it? + +"Say what?" said Mr. Grubb, carelessly. + +"That play to an incredible extent is carried on there. And that Adela +has been induced to join in it." + +His assumed indifference was forgotten now, and the carpet might have +been patternless for all he knew of it. He had stopped right under the +chandelier, its flood of light illumining his countenance as he looked +long and hard at Grace, as one in a maze. + +Much that had been inexplicable in his wife's conduct for some little +time past was rendered clear now. Her feverish restlessness on the +evenings she was going to Lady Sanely's; her coming home at all hours, +jaded, sick, out of spirits, yet unable to sleep; her extraordinary +demands for money, latterly to an extent which had puzzled and almost +terrified him. But he had never yet refused it to her. + +"It must be put a stop to somehow," said Grace. + +"It must," he answered, resuming his walk, and drawing a deep breath. +"What's all this wet on the carpet?" + +"An accident this evening. Some ink was thrown down: my fault, I +believe. At any cost, any sacrifice," continued Lady Grace. "If the +habit should get hold of Adela, there is nothing but unhappiness +before her--perhaps ruin." + +"Any cost, any sacrifice, that I can make, shall be made," repeated +Mr. Grubb. "But Adela will listen to no remonstrance from me. You know +that, Grace." + +"You must--stop the supplies," suggested Grace, dropping her voice to +a confidential whisper. "Has she had much of late?" + +"Yes." + +"More than her allowance? Perhaps not, as that is so liberal." + +"Her allowance!" half laughed her husband, not a happy laugh. "It has +been, to what she has drawn of me, as a silver coin in a purse of +gold." + +Grace clasped her hands. "And you let her have it! Did you suspect +nothing?" + +"Not of this nature. I suspected that she might be buying costly +things--after the reckless fashion of Selina Dalrymple. Or else +that--forgive me, Grace, I would rather not say more." + +"Nay," said Grace, rising to put her hand on his arm and meeting his +earnest glance, "let there be entire confidence between us; keep +nothing back." + +"Well, Grace, I fancied she might be lending it to your mother." + +"No, no; my mother has not borrowed from her lately. Oh, how can we +save her! This is an insinuating vice that gains upon its votaries, +they say, like the eating of opium." + +"Your carriage, my lady," interrupted a servant, entering the room. +And Grace caught up her mantle. + +"Must you go, Grace? It is scarcely eleven." + +"Yes. If mamma does not have the carriage to the minute, she won't +cease scolding for days, and it must take me home first. Dear Mr. +Grubb, turn this over in your mind," she whispered, "and see what you +can do. Use your influence with her, and be firm." + +"My influence, did you say?" And there was a touch of sarcasm in his +tone, mingled with a grief painful to hear. "What has my influence +with her ever been, Grace?" + +"I know, I know," she cried, wringing his hand, and turning from him +towards the stairs, that he might not see the tears gathering in her +eyes. Tears of sympathy with his wrongs, and partly, perhaps, of +regret: for she was thinking of that curious misapprehension, years +ago, when she had been led to believe that it was herself who was his +chosen bride. "I would not have treated him so," her heart murmured; +"I would have made his life a happy one, as he deserves it should be." + +He gained upon her fast steps; and, drawing her arm within his, led +her downstairs, and placed her in the carriage. + +"Dear Mr. Grubb," she whispered, as he clasped her hands, "do not let +what I have been obliged to say render you harsh with poor Adela. +Different days may be in store for you both; she may yet be the mother +of your children, when happiness in each other would surely follow. Do +not be unkind to her." + +"Unkind to Adela! No, Grace. Separation, rather than unkindness." + +"Separation!" gasped Grace, the ominous word affrighting her. + +"I have thought sometimes that it may come to it. A man cannot +patiently endure contumely for ever, Grace." + +He withdrew his hand from hers, and turned back into his desolate +home. Grace sank back in the carriage, with a mental prayer. + +"God keep him; God comfort him, and help him to bear!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX. +A PRESENT OF COFFEE. + + +It was two o'clock when Lady Adela returned home. She ran lightly +upstairs and into the drawing-room, throwing off her mantle as she +came in. A tray of refreshments stood on a side-table. + +Mr. Grubb rose from his chair. "It is very late, Adela." + +"Late! Not at all. I wish to _goodness_ you wouldn't sit up for me!" + +She went to the table and stood looking at the decanters, as if +deliberating what she should take, murmuring something about being +"frightfully thirsty." + +"What shall I give you?" he asked. + +"Nothing," was the ungracious answer, most ungraciously spoken. And +she poured out a tumbler of weak sherry-and-water, and drank it; a +second, and drank that also. Then, without taking any notice of him, +she went up to her chamber. Anything more pointedly, stingingly +contemptuous than her behaviour to her husband now, and for some time +past, has never been exhibited by mortal woman. + +Mr. Grubb rang for the servants to put out the wax-lights, and went up +in his turn. There was no sleep for him that night, whatever there +might have been for her. He knew not how to act, how to arrest this +new pursuit of hers; he scarcely knew even how to open the matter to +her. She appeared to be asleep when he rose in the morning and passed +into his dressing-room. She herself soon afforded him the opportunity. + +He was seated at his solitary breakfast, a meal his wife rarely +condescended to take with him, when her maid entered, bringing a +message from her lady--that she wished to see him before he left for +the City. Master Charley Cleveland, usually his breakfast companion, +had not made his appearance at home since the previous night. + +"Is your lady up, Darvy?" + +"Oh dear yes, sir, and at breakfast in her dressing-room." + +He went up to it. How very lovely she looked, sitting there at her +coffee, in her embroidered white dress and pink ribbons, and the +delicate lace cap shading her sweet features. She had risen thus early +to get money from him; he knew that, before she asked for it. + +"You wished to see me, Lady Adela." + +"I want some money," she said in a light, flippant kind of tone, as if +it were the sole purpose of Mr. Grubb's existence to supply her +demands. + +"Impossible," he rejoined. "You had two hundred pounds from me the day +before yesterday." + +"I must have two hundred more this morning. I want it." + +"What is it that you are doing with all this money? It has much +puzzled me." + +"Oh--making a purse for myself," she answered saucily. + +"You can trust to me to do that for you. I cannot continue to supply +you, Adela." + +"But I must have it," she retorted, raising her voice, and speaking as +if he were the very dirt under her feet. "I will have it." + +"No," he replied calmly, but with firm resolution in his tone. "I +shall give you no more until your allowance is due." + +She looked up, quite a furious expression on her lovely face. + +"Not give it me! Why, what do you suppose I married you for?" + +"Adela!" came his reproof, almost whispered. + +"I would not have taken you but for your money; you know that. They +promised me at home that I should have unlimited command of it; and I +will." + +"You have had unlimited command," he observed, and there was no +irritation suffered to appear in his tone, whatever may have been his +inward pain. "It is for your own sake I must discontinue to supply +it." + +"You are intelligible!" was her scornful rejoinder: for, in good +truth, this refusal was making havoc of her temper. + + "All that you can +need in every way shall be yours, Adela. Purchase what you like, order +what you like; I will pay the bills without a murmur. _But I will not +give you money to waste, as you have latterly wasted it, at Lady +Sanely's_." + +She rose from her seat, pale with anger. "First Charles Cleveland, +then Lady Sanely: what else am I to be lectured upon? How dare you +presume to interfere with my pursuits?" + +"I should ill be fulfilling my duty to you, or my love either, Adela, +what is left of it, if I did not interfere." + +"I will not listen, Mr. Grubb: if you attempt to preach to me, as you +did last night, I will run away. Sit down and write me a cheque for +the money." + +"There is no necessity for me to repeat my refusal, Adela. Until I +have reason to believe that this new liking for PLAY has left you, you +should draw my blood from me, sooner than money to pursue it. But +remember," he impressively added, "that I say this in all kindness." + +She looked at him, her delicate throat working, her breath growing +short with passion. + +"Will you give me the cheque?" + +"I will not. Anything more, Adela, for I am late?" + +There was no answer in words, but she suddenly raised the cup, which +chanced to be in her hand and was half full of coffee and flung it at +him. It struck him on the chin, the coffee falling upon his clothes. + +It was a moment of embarrassment for them both. He looked steadfastly +at her, with a calm, despairing sorrow, and then quitted the room. +Lady Adela, her senses returning, sank back in her chair; and in the +reaction of her inexcusable passion, she sobbed aloud. + +It was quite a violent fit of sobbing: and she smothered her head up +that he should not hear. She did feel ashamed of herself, felt even a +little honest shame at her general treatment of him. As her sobs +subsided, she heard him in his dressing-room, changing his things, and +she wished she had not done it. But she must have the money; that, and +more; and without it, she should be in a frightful dilemma, and +might have her name posted up as a card-playing defaulter in the +drawing-rooms of society. So she determined to have another battle for +it with her husband, and she dried the tears on her fair young face, +and opened his dressing-room door quite humbly, so to say, and went +into it. + +It was empty. Mr. Grubb's movements had been rapid, and he was already +gone. He had put out of sight the stained things taken off, removed +all traces of them. Was she not sensible even of this? Did she not +know that he was thus cautious for her own sake--that no scandal might +be given to the servants? Not she. With his disappearance, and the +consequent failure of her hope, all her resentment was returning. Her +foot kicked against something on the floor, and she stooped to pick it +up. It was her husband's cheque-book, which he must have unconsciously +dropped when transferring things from one pocket to another. + +Was a demon just then at Lady Adela's side?--what else could have +impelled her?--what else whispered to her of a way to supply the money +she wanted? Once only a momentary hesitation crossed her; but she +drove it away, and carried the cheques to her writing-table and _used +one of them_. + +She drew it for five hundred pounds, a heavy sum, and she boldly +signed it "Grubb and Howard." For it happened to be the cheque-book of +the firm, not of her husband's private account. She was clever at +drawing, clever at imitating styles of writing--not that she had ever +turned her talent to its present use, or thought so to turn it--and +the signature, when finished, looked very like her husband's own. Then +she carried back the cheque-book, and laid it on the floor where she +found it. + +Some time after all this was accomplished, she was passing downstairs, +deliberating upon whether she could dare to go to the bank herself to +get the cheque cashed, when Charles Cleveland came in, and bounded up +the stairs. + +"Where did Mr. Grubb breakfast this morning?" he inquired, apparently +in a desperate hurry, as they shook hands, and turned into one of the +sitting-rooms, Charley devouring her with his eyes all the time. +Little blame to him either, for she was looking most lovely: the +excitement, arising from what she had done, glowing in her cheeks like +a sweet blush rose. + +"What a question! He breakfasted at home." + +"Yes, yes, dear Lady Adela. I meant in which room." For Mr. Grubb +sometimes breakfasted in the regular breakfast-room, and sometimes in +his library. + +"I really don't know, and don't care," returned Adela, connecting the +question somehow, in her own mind, with the present of coffee he had +received. "His breakfasting is a matter of indifference to me. And +pray, Mr. Charley, where did _you_ breakfast this morning?--and what +became of you last night? Have you been making a night of it with the +owls and the bats?" + +"I went to my brother's. Harry had some fellows with him, and we, as +you express it, dear Lady Adela, made a night of it. That is, we broke +up so late that I would not disturb your house by returning here: +Harry gave me a sofa, and I went direct from him to Leadenhall Street +this morning." + +"And what have you come back for?" + +"For Mr. Grubb's cheque-book. He has missed it, and thinks he must +have left it on the breakfast-table." + +"Charley," she said, "I was just wanting you. _Will_ you do me a +favour?" + +"I will do everything you wish," he answered, his tones literally +trembling with tenderness. + +"I want you to go to the bank in Lombard Street, and got me a cheque +cashed. Mr. Grubb gave it me this morning, and I am in a hurry for the +money, for I expect people here every minute with some accounts. It is +not crossed. Take a cab, and go at once." + +"I will. I can leave the cheque-book in Leadenhall Street first." + +"No, you must not wait to find the cheque-book. I will look for it +whilst you are gone. You will not be many minutes, I am sure, and I +tell you I am all impatience." + +Charley Cleveland hesitated. "I scarcely know what to say," he +replied, dubiously, to this. "Mr. Grubb is waiting for the +cheque-book. This is Saturday, you know." + +"What if it is?" + +"We are always so busy on Saturdays." + +"Very well, Charles," she returned in hurt, resentful tones. "If you +like Mr. Grubb better than you do me, you will oblige him first. You +would be there and back in no time." + +"Dearest Lady Adela! Like Mr. Grubb better than---- Well, I will do +it, though I dare say I shall get into a row. Have the cheque-book +ready, that I may not lose a moment when I get back." And Adela nodded +assent. + +"A confounded row, too," he muttered to himself, as he tore down the +stairs, and into the cab; "but I will go through a thundercloud full +of rows for _her_." Charley gave a concise word to the driver, and +away dashed the cab towards Lombard Street, at a pace which terrified +the road generally, and greatly astonished the apple-stalls. + +He was back in an incredibly short space of time, and paid the notes +over to her. "Have you found the cheque-book?" he asked then. + +"I declare I never thought about it," was Lady Adela's reply. "But he +breakfasted in the library, I hear. Perhaps you will find it there." + +He rushed into the library. And there, on the table, was the missing +cheque-book. Oh, wary Lady Adela! + +She followed him into the room. "Charley," she whispered, "don't say +you have been out for me--no need to say you have seen me. The fact +is, that staid husband of mine had a grumbling fit upon him last +night, and accused me of talking and laughing too much with the world +in general and Mr. Charles Cleveland in particular. If they find fault +with you for loitering, say you were detained on some matter of your +own." + +He nodded in the affirmative. But a red vermilion was stealing over +his face, dyeing it to the very roots of his hair, and his heart's +pulses were rising high. For surely in that last speech she meant to +imply that she _loved_ him. And Master Charles felt his brain turn +round as it had never turned before, and he bent that flushed face +down upon her hand, and left on it an impassioned, though very +respectful kiss, by way of adieu. + +"What a young goose he is!" thought Adela. + +Very ill at ease, that day, was the Lady Adela. Reckless though she +might be as to her husband's good opinion, implicitly secure though +she felt that he would hush up the matter and shield her from +consequences, she could not help being dissatisfied with what she had +done. Suppose exposure came?--she would not like that. She had written +Mr. Howard's name, as well as her husband's! She lost herself in a +reverie, her mind running from one ugly point to another. Try as she +would, she could not drive the thoughts away, and by the afternoon she +had become seriously uneasy. Was such a case ever known as that of a +wife being brought to trial for---- "Whatever possesses me to dwell +upon such things?" she mentally queried, starting up in anger with +herself. "Rather order the carriage and go and pay my last night's +losses." + +From Lady Sanely's she went to her mother's, intending to stay and +dine there. Somehow she was already beginning to shrink from meeting +her husband's face. However, she found they were all engaged to dine +at Colonel Hope's, including her sister Mary. So Adela had to return +home: but she took care not to do it until close upon the dinner hour. + +Mr. Grubb and Charles Cleveland were both at table. Neither of them +alluded to the unpleasant topic uppermost in her mind, so she +concluded that as yet nothing had come out. Mr. Grubb was very +silent--the result no doubt of the coffee in the morning. + +"I am going to Netherleigh tomorrow morning, sir," observed Charles; +"shall try to get there in time for church. My father has written to +ask me. Could you allow me to remain for Monday also? Harry means to +run down that day, to say good-bye." + +"Monday?" considered Mr. Grubb. "Yes, I suppose you can. There's +nothing particular that you will be required for on Monday, that I +know of. You may stay." + +"Thank you, sir." + +"When does your brother leave?" + +"I think on Tuesday morning." + +Accordingly, on the following morning, Sunday, Charley left the house +to go to Netherleigh. Mr. Grubb went to church, as usual; Adela made +excuse--said her head ached. When he returned home at one o'clock, he +found she had gone to her mother's; and, without saying to him with +your leave, or by your leave, without, in fact, giving him any +intimation whatever, she remained at Chenevix House for the rest of +the day. + +On the Monday, Mr. Grubb went to business at the customary hour, +but returned early in the afternoon to attend some public +meeting in Westminster, connected with politics. Influential +people--Conservatives: who were called Tories then--had for some time +past been soliciting him to go into Parliament; he had not quite made +up his mind yet whether he would, or not. + +He and his wife dined alone. Lord and Lady Kindon, with whom they were +intimate, were to have dined with them; but only a few minutes before +the time of sitting down, a note came to say they had received ill +news of one of their children, who was at school at Twickenham, and +had to hasten thither. Adela was tryingly cross and contrary at table: +she had not wished to be alone with her husband, lest he should have +found out what she had done, and begin upon it. So, after the first +few minutes, the meal proceeded nearly in silence. She did not fear +the explosion quite as much as she did at first: each hour, as it went +on smoothly, helped to make her uneasiness less. + +But she was not to escape long. Just as the servants were quitting the +room, leaving the wine on the table, one of them came back again. + +"Mr. Howard has called, sir. He says he would not disturb you at this +hour, but he must see you on a matter of pressing business." + +"Pressing business!" echoed Mr. Grubb. "Show Mr. Howard in. A chair, +Richard, and glasses." + +The stiff and stern old man entered, bowing to Lady Adela. His +iron-grey hair looked greyer than usual, and his black coat rusty. +Rusty coats are worn by more than one millionaire. + +"Why, Howard, this is quite an event for you! Why did you not come in +time for dinner? Sit down. Anything new? Anything happened?" + +"Why, yes," replied Mr. Howard, who was a slow-speaking man, giving +one the idea that the bump of caution must be large on his head. +"Thank you, port." + +"What is it?" inquired the senior partner. + +"I will enter upon the matter presently," replied James Howard, +deliberately sipping his wine. By which answer Mr. Grubb of course +understood that he would only speak when they were alone. + +Lady Adela swallowed her strawberries and left her seat so quickly +that Mr. Grubb could hardly get to the door in time to open it, and +she went up to the drawing-room. She felt sure, as sure as though she +could read his very thoughts, that "that horrid Howard" had come about +the cheque. She did not care so much that her husband should find it +out; he might do his best and his worst, and the worst from him she +did not dread greatly; but that that old ogre should know it, perhaps +take steps--oh, that was quite another thing. _Could_ he take +steps?--would the law justify it? Adela did not know; but she began to +give the reins to her imagination, and cowered in terror. + +As she thus sat, her ears painfully alive to every sound, a cab +rattled into the square, and stopped at the door. It brought Charles +Cleveland. Charley had just come up from Netherleigh; the train was +late, and he was in a desperate hurry to get into his dress-clothes, +to attend a "spread"--it was what Charley called it--given by his +brother. Adela ran out, and arrested him as he was making for his +room, three stairs at a time. + +"Charley, I want to speak to you--just for a moment. What mortal haste +you are in!" + +To be invited thus into the drawing-room by her, to meet her again +after this temporary absence, was to him as light breaking in upon +darkness. "Oh, Charles," she added, giving him both her hands, in the +moment's agitation, "surely some good fairy sent you! I am in +distress." + +"Can I soothe it?" he asked, wondering at her emotion, and retaining +her hands in his. "Can I do anything for you?" + +"I am in sore need of a friend--to--to shelter me," she continued. +"Great, desperate need!" + +"Can I be that friend? Suffer me, if you can. _Suffer_ me to be, Lady +Adela. Dear! dear! what can have happened?" + +"But it may bring danger upon you, difficulty, even disgrace. I +believe I ought not to ask it of you." + +"Danger and difficulty would be welcome, borne for you," returned +Charley, in his loyalty. "Believe that, Lady Adela." + +He could not imagine what was amiss, and he caught somewhat of her +agitation. That she was in real trouble, nay, in terror, was all too +plain. For a moment the thought occurred--was Mr. Grubb angry with her +on his account? Oh, what a privilege it appeared to him, foolish but +honest-hearted fellow, to be asked to shield her! + +"I will trust you," she cried, her emotion increasing. "That cheque-- +but oh, Charles, do not you think ill of me! It was done in a moment +of irritation." + +"Say on, dear Lady Adela." + +"That cheque--he did not give it me. I had asked for money, and he +refused. I wanted it badly; and I was angry with him: _so I drew out +the cheque_." + +Charley felt all at sea: not comprehending in the least. She saw it: +and was forced to go on with her painful explanation. The colour was +coming and going in her cheek; now white as a lily, now rose-red. + +"That cheque you cashed for me on Saturday morning, Charley. Mr. Grubb +did not draw it. Mr. Howard's name was signed as well as his; and--and +he is with my husband in the dining-room, and I am frightened to +death." + +There was a momentary pause. Charley understood now; and saw all the +_difficulty_ of the matter, as she had lightly called it. But his +honest love for her was working strongly in his heart, and he formed a +hasty, chivalrous resolve to shield her if he could. Had she not +appealed to him? + +"I want you not to say that it was from me you had the cheque, +Charley." + +"I never will say it. Rely upon me." + +"They cannot do anything to me, I suppose; or to anyone else," she +went on. "It is the exposure that would drive me wild. I could not +bear that even that old Howard should know it was I. Oh, Charles, what +can be done?" + +"Be at ease, Lady Adela. You shall never repent your confidence. Not a +breath of suspicion shall come near you. I will shield you; I am proud +to do it: shield you, if need be, with my life. You little know how +valueless that life would be without your society, dear Lady Adela." + +"Now, Charles, hold your tongue. You must not take to say such things +to me. They are not right--and are all nonsense besides. What would +Mr. Grubb think?" + +"Forgive me," murmured Charley, all repentance. "I did not mean to say +aught that was disloyal to him or you, Lady Adela: I could not be +capable of it, now, or ever. And I will keep my word--to shield you +through this trouble. I repeat it. I swear it." + +He wrung her hand in token of good-faith, and escaped to prepare for +his engagement. She sat down, somewhat reassured, but not at all easy +in her conscience. The world just now seemed rather hard to the Lady +Adela. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. +GIVEN INTO CUSTODY. + + +They sat at the well-spread dessert-table in Grosvenor Square, those +two gentlemen, the sole partners of almost the wealthiest house in +London; keen, honourable, first-rate men of business, yet presenting +somewhat of a contrast in themselves. He at the table head, Francis +Grubb, was fine and stately, wearing in his countenance, in its +expression of form and feature, the impress of true nobility--nature's +nobility, not that of the peerage--and young yet. James Howard, who +might be called the chief partner, so far as work and constant, +regular attendance in the City went, though he did not receive +anything like an equal share of the profits, was an elderly man, +high-shouldered, his face hard and stern, his hair iron-grey, and his +black coat rusty. Mr. Howard had walked up from his house in Russell +Square this evening to confer with his chief upon some matter of +business. It a little surprised Mr. Grubb: for, with them, business +discussions were always confined to their legitimate province--the +City. + +The Lady Adela, Mr. Grubb's rebellious but very charming wife, quitted +the room speedily, leaving them to the discussion that Mr. Howard had +intimated he wished for. But Mr. Howard did not show himself in any +haste to enter upon it. He sat on, surveying abstractedly the +glittering table before him, with its rich cut glass, its silver, its +china, and its sweet flowers, talking--abstractedly also--of the +passing topics of the day, more particularly of a political meeting +which had taken place that afternoon. Mr. Grubb was a Conservative; he +a Liberal; or, as it was more often styled in those days, Tory and +Whig. + +"What news is it that you have brought me, Howard?" began Mr. Grubb, +at last, breaking a pause of silence. + +"Ay--my news," returned Mr. Howard, as though recalled to the thought. +"Did you draw a cheque on Saturday morning, before leaving home, in +favour of self, and get it cashed at Glyn's?" + +Mr. Grubb threw his thoughts back on Saturday morning. The +reminiscence was unpleasant. The scene which had taken place with his +wife was painful to him, disgraceful to her. He had drawn no cheque. + +"No," he answered, thinking a great deal more of that scene than of +Mr. Howard's question. + +"A cheque for five hundred pounds, in favour of self?" continued Mr. +Howard, slowly sipping his port wine. + +"I don't draw at Glyn's in favour of self. You know that, Howard, as +well as I do." Messrs. Glyn and Co. were the bankers of the firm; +Coutts and Co. the private bankers of Mr. Grubb. + +"Just so. Therefore, upon the fact coming to our notice this afternoon +that such a cheque had been drawn and paid, I stepped over to Glyn's +and made inquiries." + +"How did it come to your notice?" + +"This way. John Strasfield had all the cheques drawn last week sent to +him for the usual purpose of verification--he has his own ways of +doing his business, you know. In looking over them he was rather +struck with this cheque, because it was drawn to self. Self, too; not +selves. After regarding it for a minute or two, another thought struck +him--that the signature was not quite like yours. So he brought the +cheque to me. I don't think you signed it." + +Mr. Grubb rose and closed the door, which he had left ajar after +opening it for Lady Adela, the evening being very warm. John +Strasfield was their confidential cashier in Leadenhall Street. + +"If it is your signature, your hand must have been nervous when you +wrote it," continued Mr. Howard, "rendering the letters less decided +than usual." + +That Mr. Grubb had been nervous on Saturday morning he was quite +conscious of; though not, he believed, to the extent of making his +hand unsteady. But he had not drawn any cheque. + +"It was drawn in favour of self, you say. Was it signed with my +private signature, Francis C. C. Grubb?" + +"No; with the firm's signature, Grubb and Howard. Glyn's people +suspected nothing wrong, and cashed it." + +"Who presented the cheque?" + +"Charles Cleveland. And he received the money." + +"Charles Cleveland!" repeated Mr. Grubb, in surprise, his whole +attention fully aroused now. "There is some mystery about this." + +"So it seemed to me," answered the elder man. "Cleveland stayed out of +town today--by your leave, I think you said." + +"Yes, he asked me on Saturday to let him have today; he was going +down to Netherleigh: his elder brother, Captain Cleveland, meant to +run down there to say good-bye, Charles will be back tonight, I +suppose. But--I don't understand about this cheque." + +"I'm sure I don't," said Mr. Howard. "Except that Charles Cleveland +got it cashed." + +"Where did Charles Cleveland procure the cheque?" asked Mr. Grubb, his +head all in a puzzle. "Who drew the cheque? Where's the money? Howard, +there must be some mistake in your information." + +"It was Saturday morning that you left the cheque-book at home, and +sent Cleveland for it, if you remember," said Mr. Howard, quietly. + +"Ah, to be sure it was; I do remember. A long while he was gone." + +"You asked him what made him so long: I chanced to be in your room at +the moment: and he said he had been doing a little errand for himself. +Well, during the period of his absence, that is, somewhere between ten +and half-past eleven, the cheque was presented by him at Glyn's, and +cashed. What does it all say?" concluded Mr. Howard. + +Francis Grubb looked a little bewildered. No clear idea upon the point +was suggesting itself to his mind. + +"I thought young Cleveland was given to improvident habits," resumed +Mr. Howard, "but I never suspected he was one to help himself to money +in this way; to----" + +"He _cannot_ have done it," interrupted Mr. Grubb, earnestly decisive. +"It is quite impossible. Charles Cleveland is foolish and silly +enough, just as boys will be, for he is no better than a boy; but he +is honest and honourable." + +"Are you aware that he spends a great deal of money?" + +"I think he does. I said so to him last week. It was that pouring wet +day, Wednesday I think, and I told him he might go down to Leadenhall +Street with me in the carriage, if he liked. I took the opportunity of +speaking to him about his expenditure, telling him it was a great deal +easier to get into debt than to get out of it." + +"Which he had found out for himself, I expect," grumbled Mr. Howard. +"How did he receive it?" + +"As ingenuously as you could wish. Blushed like a school-girl. He +confessed that he had been spending too much money lately, and laid it +chiefly to the score of his brother's being in London. Captain +Cleveland's comrades are rather an extravagant set; the allowance that +he gets from his uncle is good; and Charles has been led into expense +through mixing with them. The very moment his brother left, he said, +he should draw in and spend next to nothing." + +Mr. Howard smiled grimly. "One evening, strolling out after my dinner, +I chanced to meet my young gentleman, came full upon him as he was +turning out of a florist's, a big bouquet of white flowers in his +hand. 'You must have given a guinea for that, young sir,' I said to +him, and he did not deny it; just leaped into a cab and was off. I +don't suppose those flowers were presented to Captain Cleveland or to +any of his comrades." + +Mr. Grubb knitted his brow. He had not the slightest doubt they were +intended for his wife. What a silly fellow that Charley was! + +"He may get into debt; I feel sure he is in debt; but he would not +commit forgery--or help himself to money that was not his. I tell you, +Howard, the thing is impossible." + +"He presented the cheque and received the money," dryly remarked Mr. +Howard. "What has he done with it?" + +"But no one, not oven a madman, would go to work in this barefaced +way," contended his more generous-minded partner, "conscious that it +must bring immediate detection and punishment upon his head." + +"Detection, yes; punishment does not necessarily follow. That, he may +be already safe from." + +"How do you mean?" + +"Suppose you inquire what clothes he took with him," suggested Mr. +Howard. "My impression is that he's off. Gone. The Netherleigh tale +may have been only a blind." + +Mr. Grubb rose and rang the bell, staggered nearly out of his senses; +and, until it was answered, not another word was spoken. Each +gentleman was busy with his own thoughts. + +"Richard," began the master to his servant, "when Mr. Charles +Cleveland left for the country yesterday morning, did he take much +luggage with him?" + +"I don't think he took any, sir; unless it was his small portmanteau." + +"Did you happen to hear him say whether he intended to make a long +stay?" + +"I did not hear him say anything, sir: he went out early, to catch the +first train. But Mr. Cleveland is back." + +"Back!" echoed Mr. Howard, surprised into the interference. + +"Yes, sir, just now, and went out again as soon as he had dressed. He +is gone to dine at the Army and Navy." + +"Then no elucidation can now take place until morning," observed Mr. +Grubb, as the servant withdrew. "When he has gone out lately on these +dining bouts he does not get home till late, sometimes not at all. But +rely upon it, Howard, this matter will be cleared up satisfactorily, +so far as he is concerned. Though what the mystery attending the +cheque can be, I am not able to imagine." + +"I'm sure I am not, looking at it from your point of view," returned +the elder man. "See here: you come down to Leadenhall Street on +Saturday morning, and find you have left the cheque-book of the firm +at home here. You send Charles Cleveland for it, telling him to take a +cab and to make haste. After being away three or four times as long as +he need be, he comes back with the cheque-book, having found it, he +says, where you had told him it probably would be found--in the room +where you breakfasted. He does not account for his delay, except by +the excuse that he was doing an errand for himself, and begs pardon +for it. Well and good. Today we find that a cheque has been +abstracted from that same cheque-book, filled in for five hundred +pounds, and was cashed by Cleveland himself; all during this same +interval on Saturday morning when he declines to account for his time. +What do you make of it?" + +Put thus plainly before him, Mr. Grubb did not know what to make of +it, and his faith in Charles Cleveland began to waver. The most +confiding mind cannot fight altogether against palpable facts. Mr. +Howard opened his pocketbook, took the cheque in question from it, and +laid it, open, before his senior partner. + +"This is not Cleveland's writing," remarked Mr. Grubb. + +"Of course not. It is an imitation of yours. That is, not his ordinary +handwriting. He has done it pretty cleverly. Glyn's were deceived. Not +but that I consider Glyn's clerk was incautious not to see the +difference between 'self' and 'selves.' He says he did not notice the +word at all: but he ought to have noticed it." + +"It is a singular affair altogether," observed Mr. Grubb, in a musing +tone. "To begin with, my bringing home the cheque-book at all was +singular. You were not in the City on Friday, you know, Howard, +and----" + +"I couldn't come when I was ill," grunted out Mr. Howard. + +"My dear, good old friend, do you suppose I thought you could?" +answered Mr. Grubb, checking a laugh. "I was going to say that, as you +were absent, I signed the cheques on Friday, and the book lay on my +desk. It happened that my private cheque-book also lay there. When I +left, I put the firm's cheque-book in my pocket by mistake, and locked +up the other; meaning, of course, to do just the contrary. But for +this carelessness on my part, Charles Cleveland would not have had the +opportunity of--Good Heavens! what a blow this will be for his father! +We must hush it up!" + +"Hush it up!" cried out the other and sterner man of business. "Not if +I know it. That's just like you, Francis Grubb! Your uncle Francis, my +many years' friend, used to accuse you, you know, of having a soft +place in your heart." + +"I am thinking of that good man, with his many cares, the Rector of +Netherleigh." + +"And I am thinking of his son's bold, barefaced iniquity. Be you very +sure of one thing, sir--Glyn's won't hush it up; they are the wrong +people to do it. Neither must you. A pretty example it would be! No, +thank you, no more wine! I have had my quantum." + +"Well, well, we shall see, Howard. I cannot understand it yet." + +When Mr. Grubb got upstairs that night, he found his wife gone out, +leaving no message for him. She never did leave any. Darvy thought her +lady had gone to the opera. Mr. Grubb followed, and found her there. +The box was full, and there was little room for him. He said nothing +to her of what had occurred: he meant to keep it from her if he could, +to save her pain; and from all others, for the Honourable and Reverend +Mr. Cleveland's sake. + +Mr. Grubb sat down to breakfast the next morning alone. Lady Adela had +not risen; Charles Cleveland did not make his appearance. + +"Does Mr. Charles Cleveland know I am at breakfast, Hilson?" he +inquired of the butler, who was in attendance. + +"Mr. Charles Cleveland left word--I beg your pardon, sir, I forgot to +mention it--that he has gone out to breakfast with his brother, +Captain Cleveland, who sails today for India. He went out between six +and seven." + +"He came home last night, then?" + +"Yes, sir; about one o'clock." + +Mr. Grubb glanced over the letters waiting beside his plate, some for +himself, some for Lady Adela. Amidst the former was one from his +sister, written the previous day. Her mother (who had been seriously +ill for some time) was much worse, she said, and she begged her +brother to come down, if possible, in the morning. + +It chanced that Mr. Grubb had made one or two appointments for people +to see him that morning at his house; so that it was eleven o'clock +when he reached Leadenhall Street. + +"Well, where is he?" began Mr. Howard, without ceremony of greeting. + +"Where's who?" asked Mr. Grubb. + +"Charles Cleveland." + +"What--is he not come yet?" returned Mr. Grubb, whose thoughts had +been elsewhere. + +"Not yet. I don't think he means to come." + +To be late, or in any other way inattentive to his duties, had not +been one of Charley's sins. Therefore his absence was the more +remarkable. Mr. Grubb started for Blackheath, almost endorsing Mr. +Howard's opinion that the delinquent had embarked with his brother for +India; or for some other place not speedily accessible to officers of +justice. + +Twelve o'clock was striking by St. Paul's when Charley bustled in; +hot, and out of breath. He was told that Mr. Howard wanted him. + +"I beg your pardon, sir, for being so late," he panted, addressing +himself to that gentleman, when he reached his private room, +"especially after my holiday of yesterday. I went early this morning +to Woolwich, and on board ship with my brother, intending to be back +by business hours; but, what with one delay and another, I was unable +to get up till now." + +"It is not business-like at all, sir," growled the old merchant. +"But--stay a bit, Mr. Cleveland; we have a few questions to put to +you." + +Charles glanced round. In his hurry, he had seen no one but Mr. +Howard. His eye now fell on a little man, who sat in a corner. Charley +knew him to be connected with Messrs. Glyn's house; and he knew that +the time was at hand when he would have need of all his presence of +mind and his energies. It chanced that this gentleman had just called +to enquire if anything had come to light about the mysterious cheque. + +"You presented a cheque for five hundred pounds at Glyn's on Saturday +morning, and received the amount in notes," began Mr. Howard, to +Charles. "From whom did you get that cheque?" + +No reply. + +"Purporting to be drawn and signed by Mr. Grubb. I ask from whom you +received it?" + +"I decline to answer," Charles said at length, speaking with +hesitation, in spite of his preparation for firmness. + +"Do you deny having presented the cheque?" + +"No. I do not deny that." + +"Do you deny having received the money for it?" interposed the +gentleman from the bank. + +"Nor that, either. I acknowledge to having received five hundred +pounds. It would be worse than folly to deny it," continued Charles to +him, in a sort of calm desperation, "since your clerk could prove the +contrary." + +"But did you know what you were laying yourself open to?" cried Mr. +Howard, evidently in a marvel of astonishment, for he took these +admissions of Charles's to be tantamount to an absolute acknowledgment +of his guilt. + +"I know now, sir." + +"Will you refund the money?" asked Mr. Howard, dropping his voice; for +that stern man of business had been going over the affair half the +night as he lay in bed, and concluded to give the reckless young +fellow a chance. Truth to say, Mr. Howard's bark was always worse than +his bite. "Out of consideration for your family, connected, as it is, +with that of the head of our firm, we are willing to be lenient; and +if you will confess, and refund----" + +"I cannot refund, and I must decline to answer any more questions," +interrupted Charles, fast relapsing into agitation. + +Mr. Howard stared at him. "Do you understand, young man, what it is +that you would bring upon your head? In point of fact, we are laying +ourselves open to, I hardly know what penalty of law, in making you +this offer; but Mr. Grubb is anxious it should be hushed up for your +father's sake--whom every one respects. If you decline it; if you set +me at defiance, as it seems to me you wish to do; I shall have no +resource but to give you into custody." + +"I beg to state that the matter is not in our hands yet," spoke up the +banker to Charles. "If it were, we could not make you any such offer. +Though of course we can fully understand and appreciate the motives +that actuate your principals, with whom the affair at present wholly +rests. It would be a terrible blow to fall on the Cleveland family; +and every one must wish to save them from it." + +"I--I am very sorry," gasped Charles, feeling all this to his heart's +core. "Unfortunately----" + +"The matter is not known beyond ourselves," interposed Mr. Howard +again, indicating himself and the banker; "and it need not be. But it +is solely out of consideration for your family, you understand, that +we offer to hush it up. Will you explain?" + +"I cannot. Unfortunately, I cannot, sir. It is not in my power?" + +"Then I give you in charge at once." + +"I can't help it," said poor Charles, passing his hand over his hot +brow. + +Mr. Howard, very hard, very uncompromising when deliberately provoked, +was as good as his word. And Charles Cleveland was given into custody +for forgery. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. +"THAT IT MAY BE WELL WITH US IN AFTER-LIFE." + + +It was all over and done with long before Mr. Grubb got up from +Blackheath in the afternoon. He felt terribly vexed. Vexed for Charles +himself, terribly vexed for Charles's family, vexed on his own score. +To his refined and sensitive mind, it almost seemed that he had +violated the sacred laws of hospitality, for Charles had been staying, +as a guest, in his house. + +The first thing he did was to hasten to the prison to which Charles +had been conveyed, preparatory to his examination on the morrow. The +young man was in his cell, sitting on the edge of his narrow bed, and +looking very downhearted. The entrance of Mr. Grubb seemed to bring to +him a sudden flash of hope. He started up. + +"Oh, sir," he exclaimed, in high excitement, "will you not look over +this one error? My father will replace the money--I am sure he will, +rather than suffer this public disgrace to fall upon the family. Do +not force the shame upon him. And--and there's my brother--just +embarked--what will he do? Oh, Mr. Grubb, if you will but have mercy! + +"Charles--don't excite yourself like this--I have come here to offer +you the mercy," spoke Mr. Grubb; and his considerate manner, his voice +of music, were just like a healing balm. "I have come straight from +Mr. Howard to renew the offer he made you. It is not yet too late: we +will make things right tomorrow: there will be no prosecutor, you +understand. Will you give me, myself only, the particulars you denied +to Mr. Howard?" + +Just for one eager moment the wish flashed across Charles's mind that +he might tell the truth to this good man. Was he not Adela's husband, +and would he not excuse her in his love? The next, he saw how futile +was the wish. Could _he_ be the one to betray her?--and to her +husband? Shame upon him for the thought! He had vowed to her to hold +her harmless, and he would do so for her sake. + +"To me it appears that there is a mystery in the affair which I cannot +fathom," continued Mr. Grubb. "Your conduct in it is perfectly +incomprehensible. It may be better for you to confide in me, Charles." + +"I cannot, sir. I wish I could." + +"What if I tell you that, in spite of appearances, I do not myself +believe you guilty?" + +A bright, eager flush, a glance as of mutual _understanding_ illumined +for a moment Charley's face. It seemed to say that just, honourable +natures know and trust in each other's innocence, no matter what may +be the surrounding signs of guilt. But the transient expression faded +away to sadness, and Mr. Grubb was in doubt whether it had really been +there. + +"I can explain nothing," said the prisoner. "I can only thank you, +sir, for this proof of confidence, and implore your clemency on the +ground of compassion alone." + +"Charles Cleveland, this won't do. You are either guilty or innocent. +Which is it?" + +"Guilty, of course," said Charley, in his desperation. For if he said +"innocent," the next rejoinder would be, "Then who is guilty?" And he +could not answer that, or any other close question. + +"Did you do this vile thing of your own accord; or were you induced to +do it by another?" pursued Mr. Grubb, his head running upon Charley's +debts and Charley's fast companions. + +"I--I--pray do not ask me more, sir! It is a wretched business, and I +must suffer for it." + +"Am I to understand that you wholly refuse to confide in me?--refuse +to be helped? I would be your true friend." + +"I must refuse," gasped poor Charley. "I have nothing to tell. I did +present the cheque at Glyn's, and I drew the money. And--and I hope +you will forgive me, sir, for I am very miserable." + +"Is all the money spent?" + +"I--I have not as much as a shilling of it. If I had, I'd give it +back. It's too late." + +Nothing better than this could Mr. Grubb wring from the unfortunate +prisoner. And he left him _believing he was guilty_. He left in rather +an angry mood, too, for he thought Charles was bearing out Mr. +Howard's report, and showing himself defiantly, ungratefully +obstinate. That he had been in some most pressing and perhaps +dangerous difficulty on the Saturday morning, and had used these +desperate means to extricate himself, must be, he concluded, the fact. +A great deal of his compassion for Charles melted away; the young man +seemed hardened. + +In the morning the case was taken before the magistrates. It was heard +in private. The influential house, Grubb and Howard, could have +commanded a greater concession than that. One magistrate only sat, a +very pliable one, Sir Turtle Kite. The case was only slightly gone +into, the prosecutors asking for a remand until the following week: +they wished to trace out more particulars, also wished to trace the +notes. Then the prisoner would be brought up again; and meanwhile he +was consigned to that awful place, Newgate. + +In spite of all efforts to keep it secret, the affair partially got +wind. Not, however, in its true details. All kinds of exaggerated +rumours and surmises ran the round of the clubs. But for the recent +sojourn of Captain Cleveland in London, Charley might have remained +quite an obscure individual, as regarded the fashionable world. But he +had been a great deal with his brother, and was known and liked +everywhere. + +What a commotion arose! Charles Cleveland in Newgate on a +charge of robbery, or forgery, or what not! Charley Cleveland, the +popular--Charley Cleveland, the grandson of an earl gathered to his +fathers, and nephew of one who stood in his shoes--Charley Cleveland, +the out-and-out good fellow, who was wont to scare the blue-devils +away from every one--Charley Cleveland, who, in defiance of his +improvidence and his shallow pocket, was known to be of the nicest +honour amongst the honourable! + +"The thing's altogether preposterous," stuttered John Cust, who had a +natural stammer. "If Charley had drawn the money he would have had the +money, and I know that on Saturday afternoon he had not a rap, for he +borrowed three sovs. of me to take him down to Brighton----" + +"Netherleigh, Cust." + +"Netherleigh, then. What put Brighton in my head, I wonder? Fancy he +went to try to get some money out of his governor." + +"Which he did," added Lord Deerham. "A five-pound note." + +"And paid me back the three sovs. on the Monday night, when he came to +his brother's spread at the Rag and Famish," continued John Cust. +"Gammon! Charley has not been making free with any one's name." + +"But he acknowledges to having drawn the money," squeaked Booby +Charteris. "A thousand pounds, they say." + +"You may take that in yourself, Booby. We don't." + +"But the Lord Mayor----" + +"Lord Mayor be hanged! If he swears till he's black in the face that +Charley did it, I know he didn't. There." + +"'Twasn't the Lord Mayor. Some other of those City bigwigs." + +"Anyway, he is in Newgate. It's said, too, that it is Grubb and Howard +who have sent him there." + +"Did he rob their cash-box?" + +"Do they accuse him of it, you mean, Booby. As if Charley would do +such a thing!" + +"Let us go down to Newgate, and have a smoke with him," cried +Charteris, who had so small a share of brains and so very small a +voice as to have acquired the nickname of Booby. "It may cheer the +young fellow up, under the present alarming state of things." + +"As if they'd admit us inside Newgate, or a smoke either!" retorted +John Cust. "There's only one thing more difficult than getting into +Newgate, and that is, if you are in, getting out again. Don't forget +that, Booby." + +"Couldn't some of us go and punch a few heads down there, beginning +with old Howard's?" again proposed Booby. "I don't say Grubb's." + +"Grubb has had nothing to do with bringing the charge; you may rely +upon that," said Lord Deerham. "Grubb's a gentleman. You shut up, +Booby." + +Ah! it was all very well for these idle, foolish young men to express +their sympathy with the prisoner in their idle, foolish way: but, what +of the distress of those connected with him? + +Thomas Cleveland, Honourable and Reverend, heard from his wife, who +was still staying at her mother's, that something was amiss, and came +up from Netherleigh to find his son incarcerated in Newgate, and +accused of forgery. Down he went to the prison at once, and obtained +admission. Charley looked, in that short period, greatly changed. His +dress was neglected, his hair unkempt, and his face haggard. Charley, +the fastidious! + +Mr. Cleveland was overcome beyond control, and sobbed aloud. He was a +venerable-looking man of nearly sixty years now, and had always been a +fond father. Charley was little less affected. + +"Why did you not kill me when you last came down, Charles?" he moaned +out in his perplexity and anguish. "Better have put me out of this +world of pain than bring this misery upon me. Oh, my boy! my boy! you +were your mother's favourite: how can you so have disgraced her +memory?" + +"I would I had been put out of the world, rather than be the curse to +you I have proved," writhed Charley, wishing Newgate would yawn +asunder and engulph him. "Oh, don't--father, don't!" he implored, as +Mr. Cleveland's sobs echoed through the cell. "If it will be a +consolation to you to know it, I will avow to you that I am not +guilty," he added, the sight of his father's affliction momentarily +outweighing his precaution. "By all your care of me, by your present +grief, by the memory of my dead mother, I swear to you that I am not +guilty." + +Mr. Cleveland looked up, and his heart leaped within him. He knew +Charles was speaking truth. It was impossible to mistake that earnest +tone. + +"Thank God!" he murmured. "But what, then, is this I hear, about your +declining to make a defence?" he presently asked. "I am told you have +as good as acknowledged your guilt." Charles hung his head, and +relapsed into prudence again. + +"My boy, answer me. How came you to accept--as it were--the charge, if +you are innocent?" + +"For your private comfort I have said this, dear father, but it must +remain between us as if it had not been spoken. The world must still, +and always, believe me guilty." + +"But why?--why? What mystery is this?" + +"Do not ask me, sir. Believe that you have not a son more free from +the guilt of this crime than I am. Nevertheless, I must pay the +penalty, for I cannot defend myself." + +Mr. Cleveland thought this about the most extraordinary thing he had +ever met with. Nothing more could be got out of Charles; nevertheless, +he did believe in his innocence. From Newgate he went on to Leadenhall +Street, to see the gentlemen who had brought this charge, and found +only one of them in: Mr. Grubb. + +"You are not more pained at the affair than I am," said the latter, +closing the door of his private room, "and certainly not more +astonished." + +"Oh, Mr. Grubb," cried the clergyman, "could you not have hushed this +wretched disgrace up, for all our sakes?--or at least made more +inquiries before taking these extreme steps? You who have shown so +much true friendship for me!" + +"I would have hushed it up. I wished to hush it up altogether. I would +have paid the money over and over again out of my own pocket, rather +than it should have become known, even to Mr. Howard. It was he, +however, who brought the tidings of it to me." + +"And Mr. Howard would not?" + +"Mr. Howard would. At first he seemed inclined to be hard. Thorough +business men look upon these things with a stern eye. However, he knew +my wishes, and came to. He was the first to speak to Charles. He asked +him to acknowledge the truth to him, and he would forgive it. Charles +refused; set him, so to say, at defiance; told him, I believe, to do +his best and his worst; and Mr. Howard gave him into custody." + +"It is very strange." + +"When I found what had happened--I had been out of town that day--I +went at once to Charles. I told him that I could not believe him +guilty, and I entreated him to tell me the circumstances of the case, +which looked to me then, and look still, unaccountably mysterious----" + +"And he would not?" interrupted Mr. Cleveland, recalling how Charles +had just met a similar request from himself. + +"He would not tell me a word: told me he would not. I said I could +even then set matters straight, and would get his release on the +morrow, and nothing about it should ever transpire. He thanked me, but +said he had nothing to tell; was, in fact, guilty. I could only think +he must be guilty, and left him with that impression on my mind." + +"It is altogether very strange," repeated Mr. Cleveland, in a musing +tone, as he sat stroking his face and thinking. "Will you state the +particulars to me, as far as you are cognizant of them. I asked +Charles to do so, but he would not." + +"It occurred on Saturday morning," began Mr. Grubb. "When I reached +the City, here, I found I had not got with me the cheque-book of the +firm, which I had taken away by mistake the previous evening; and I +sent Charles home to look for it. He was a long while gone, but +brought it when he came. During the period of his absence one of the +cheques was abstracted, filled up for five hundred pounds, and----" + +"Filled up by whom?" + +"The writing was an imitation of mine. Charles presented it at Glyn's, +and got it cashed. All this he acknowledges to; but he refuses to say +what he did with the money." + +"Mr. Grubb," cried the agitated father, "appearances are against +him--were never, I perceive, more strongly against any one; but, +before Heaven I believe him to be innocent." + +Mr. Grubb made no reply. + +"He has assured me of his innocence by the memory of his dead mother; +and innocent I am sure he must be. He stated in the same breath that +he should avow it to no one else, but submit to the penalty of the +crime just as though he had committed it. As to what he did with the +money--he could not have used it for himself. On that very Saturday +afternoon he had to borrow money to bring him down to Netherleigh the +next morning. John Cust lent it him." + +"It is very singular," acknowledged Mr. Grubb. + +"Charles confessed as much to me at Netherleigh--that he had borrowed +the money from Cust to get down with; three pounds, I think it was. I +gave him a five-pound note, and a lecture with it. He promised to be +more cautious for the future, and said that after Harry left he should +not have occasion to spend much--which is true. But now, what I would +like to know is this--if he drew that money, that five hundred pounds, +where is it? How came it that the next hour, so to say, he had none in +his pocket?" + +Mr. Grubb certainly could not answer, and remained silent. + +"Has he been made the instrument of another?" returned Mr. Cleveland. +"Was be imposed upon by any one?--sent to cash a cheque that he +himself thought was a genuine and proper cheque?" + +"That is scarcely likely. Were it the case, what objection could he +have to declare it? My opinion is--I am sorry to have to give it--that +Charles had got into some desperate money trouble, and used desperate +remedies to extricate himself." + +"What more desperate trouble could he be in than this?" + +"True. But he may have hoped we should be lenient. Even now," added +Mr. Grubb, his voice trembling with the concern he felt; "we might be +able to save him if he would only disclose the truth. Mr. Howard +absolutely refuses to quash the matter unless he does so: and I think +he is right." + +"But Charles won't disclose it; he won't," bewailed the clergyman, +taking the other's hand in token of his gratitude. "Look here, my dear +friend," he added, after a pause of thought, "can Charles be keeping +silence to screen some one?" + +"To screen some one? How?" + +"That he did this thing willingly, with his eyes open, I never will +believe. It is not in a Cleveland's nature to commit a crime. +Moreover, I repeat to you that he has just assured me of his innocence +by the memory of his dead mother. No, no; whatever may be the facts, +Charles was not wilfully guilty. I could stake my life upon it. In +cashing that cheque he must have been made the innocent tool of +another, whom he won't betray out of some chivalrous feeling of +honour." + +"But no one had possession of the cheque-book but Charles," reasoned +Mr. Grubb. "He found it in the breakfast-room where I had left it. My +servants are honest; they would not touch it. Moreover, it was Charles +himself who presented the cheque for payment, and got the money." + +Mr. Cleveland rubbed his grey hair back with a look of perplexity; +hair that was getting scanty now. Look at the case in what way he +would, it presented contradictions and difficulties that seemed to be +insuperable. + +"You are staying at Lord Acorn's, I suppose?" remarked Mr. Grubb, when +the clergyman rose to leave. + +"Until Saturday. I can't run away from London and leave my boy in +Newgate. Heaven be with you! I know you'll do for him what you can." + +The whole of the after-part of this day certain words spoken by the +unhappy father haunted Francis Grubb. _In cashing that cheque he must +have been made the innocent tool of another, whom he won't betray, out +of some chivalrous feeling of honour_. An idea had been presented to +him which he might never have taken up of himself; a painful idea; +and, do what he would, he could not drive it away. It intruded itself +into his business; it followed him home to dinner; and it worried him +while he ate it. He had not found Lady Adela at home. She was dining +out somewhere. Certainly, Mr. Grubb's domestic life was not a very +sociable one. After dinner, he went to his club. + +It was eleven o'clock before he got home; later than he meant to be, +but he did not expect his wife to be there yet. The butler, a +trustworthy, semi-confidential servant, who had entered the service of +the uncle, Francis Grubb, when his present master was a boy, and who +had become greatly attached to him, came to the drawing-room to see if +anything was wanted. + +"Is Lady Adela in?" asked his master. + +"No, sir. Her ladyship came in not long ago, for a minute or two, and +went out again." + +"Stay a minute, Hilson," cried Mr. Grubb, as the man was turning away. +"Shut the door. Carry your memory back to last Saturday. Did you +happen to see Mr. Charles Cleveland come in that morning?" + +"Yes, sir: I was at the front-door, talking to one of Lady Acorn's +servants, who had brought a parcel for my lady. Mr. Cleveland jumped +out of the cab he was in, and ran past me all in a hurry, saying he +had come to look for something the master had left behind him." + +"Did he go at once to the room where I breakfasted?" + +"No, sir. My lady chanced to be descending the stairs at the moment; +Mr. Cleveland asked her where Mr. Grubb had breakfasted, and she +turned with him into the small room. In a minute or two, it could not +have been more, he came running out again, leaped into the cab, and +went away in it at a great rate. That was the first time, sir." + +Mr. Grubb lifted his eyes. "The first time! What do you mean?" + +"Mr. Charles Cleveland came back again, sir. Not directly; +half-an-hour or three-quarters later it may have been, perhaps more, I +had not taken particular note of the time. I was in the hall then, +watching John clean the lamp--he has done it slovenly of late. The +front-door was rung and knocked at as if it was going to be knocked +down. I opened it, and Mr. Charles Cleveland rushed past me up to the +drawing-room. I never hardly saw anybody in a greater hurry than he +seemed to be. He came down again directly, my lady with him, and they +went into the breakfast-room. He then ran out to the cab, and drove +away at a fiercer rate than before." + +"Was it the same cab?" + +"Oh yes, sir. Taking both times together, he was not in the house +three minutes." + +"Not long enough to----" Mr. Grubb checked himself, and remained +silent. + +"Not long enough to have drawn a false cheque, sir, when the +handwriting has to be studied--as we have been saying below," put in +the butler, following too closely his master's thoughts. + +Mr. Grubb felt disagreeably startled. "Hilson! what are you saying? +_Who_ has talked of this below?" + +"Only Darvy, sir. She got to know of it this morning, +through---- Well, sir, I believe through a letter that my lady gave +her to read." + +"But how was that?" questioned Mr. Grubb, in a displeased tone. + +"It was through a mistake of my lady's, sir," replied Alison, dropping +his voice. "She had meant to give Darvy a note from Madame Damereau, +about the trimming of a dress; instead of that, she gave her one from +Lady Grace. Darvy has been uneasy ever since, and she spoke in +confidence to me." + +"Why uneasy?" + +"Well, sir, Darvy thinks it an unpleasant thing to have happened, +especially for us upper servants. The cheque must have been torn out +and filled in by somebody." + +"Nonsense," interposed Mr. Grubb. "Take care you do not speak of this, +Hilson; and caution Darvy." + +"No fear of me, sir; you know that. I told Darvy she must have +misunderstood Lady Grace's note, and that she must hold her tongue; +and I am sure she will. She was very sorry to have read it. She asked +my lady's instructions as to the dress, and my lady tossed the note to +her, saying she would find them there. Darvy read on to the very end, +expecting to come to them. That's how it was, sir." + +Mr. Grubb remained on alone, deep in painful thought, his head bent on +his hand. His vague suspicions were strengthening--strengthening +terribly. + +And what of Lady Adela? This could not have been a good time for +her--as the children say. Made aware that morning by Grace's letter +that Charles was taken into custody, she was seized with terror; and +perhaps it was not so much carelessness as utter bewilderment that +caused the stupid error of handing the wrong letter to Darvy. Adela +saw her father in the course of the day. Too anxious to remain +passive, she went out to hear what she could at Lord Acorn's, putting +to him a cautious word of inquiry. Lord Acorn made light of the whole +business--he did not yet know the particulars. Charley would soon be +released, he carelessly said; Grubb would take care of that. As to a +little fright, or a short incarceration, it would do Master Charley +good--he had been going the pace of late. And this opinion of her +father's so completely reassured Lady Adela, that her fears of +consequences to Charley subsided: she returned home, took up her +visiting, and was her own saucy self again. + +She came in early tonight, before twelve o'clock, looking cross: Her +husband rose from his chair, and smoothed his troubled face. + +"Where have you been, Adela?" + +"At Lady Sanely's:" and the tone of defiance audible in Lady Adela's +answer arose from the consciousness that he had forbidden her to go +there. The dissatisfied face she brought back with her, and the early +hour of her return, seemed to say that she had not met with much +pleasure there this evening. Perhaps she had staked, and lost, all the +money she had taken; or, perhaps play was not going on that night. + +She threw herself into a chair, eating a biscuit she had caught up +from a plate on the table, and let her mantle fall from her shoulders. +How very pretty she looked! Her dress was white lace, trimmed about +with small blush roses; her cheeks were a lovely flush; a pearl +necklace, of priceless value, lay on her fair neck, bracelets to match +encircled her slender arms: one of the many magnificent gifts of her +fond husband. + +"Don't shut the door," cried Adela, tartly, for he had crossed the +room to do it. "I'm sure it's hot enough." + +"Ah, but I want to say a few words to you," he replied, as he closed +it. And the Lady Adela, divining by a subtle instinct which penetrates +to us all at odd moments, one cannot tell how or wherefore, that the +subject of his "few words" was to be Charley's trouble, and not her +transgression as to Lady Sanely's, armed herself for reprisal. Adela +never felt sure afterwards that she had not been wicked enough to put +up a hasty prayer for aid. Aid to be firm in disguising the truth: aid +to blind him as to her share in the past Saturday's exploit, and to +strengthen the accusation against Charley. Rising from her seat, she +crossed to the nearest window and threw it open, as if needing a +breath of the soft midnight air. + +"This is a sad business about Charles Cleveland, Adela. I find you +know of it." + +"Yes," she answered, fanning away a moth that was floating in, +attracted by the light. "I hope you are satisfied with your work. You +had a paltry spite against him, and you have cast him into Newgate to +gratify it." + +"Adela, you know better." + +"It is enough to ruin his prospects for life. It would ruin some +people's--they who are without influential connections. Of course +Charley will soon be on his legs again, and laugh at his paltry +enemies." + +Mr. Grubb put his hand, almost caressingly, on his wife's arm, and +caused her to turn her face to him. "Will you tell me what you know of +this, my dear?" + +"Tell you what I know of it!--how should I know anything of it?" she +retorted, flirting her costly fan. "Poor Charley may have meant to +borrow the money for a day or two--I don't accuse him; I only say it +may have been so--and then to have replaced it: but you and that old +kangaroo of a partner of yours have prevented his doing it. To gratify +your own revenge you seized upon him before he had time to act, and +threw him into that place of crime where men are hung from--Newgate. +You did it to bring disgrace upon my family, through my sister Mary." + +He did not reply to this; he was accustomed to her unjust accusations. + +"Adela," he said, dropping his voice to a whisper, "were you wholly +ignorant of this business? _Who drew the cheque?_" + +She turned round with a start, defiance in her eyes. + +"Adela, my wife," he whispered, gently laying both hands upon her +shoulders in his earnestness, "if you had anything to do with this +business, if Charles Cleveland was not the guilty party, acknowledge +it now. Confide in me for once. I will avert consequences from him and +suspicion from you. The secret shall be buried in my breast, and I +will never revert to it." + +Oh, what possessed her that she did not respond to this loving appeal +in time? Was it pure fright that prevented her? Shame?--Shame to have +to confess to her guilt? Any way, she steeled her heart against it. +Her lovely features had grown white, and her eyes fell before his. +Presently she raised them, flashing with indignation, her tone, her +words, as haughty as you please. + +"Mr. Grubb, how dare you offer me this insult?" + +"Do not meet me in this way, Adela. I am asking you a solemn question; +remember that there is One above Who will hear and register your +answer. Were you the principal in this transaction, and was Cleveland +but your agent? Do not fear to trust me--_your husband_: you shall +have my free forgiveness, now, beforehand, my shelter, my protection. +Only tell me the truth, as you wish it to be well with us both in +after-life." + +Again she cowered before his gaze, and again recovered herself. Could +it be that her better angel was prompting her to the truthful path? + +"What can possibly have induced you to put such a question to me?" + +"It is an idea that has forced itself upon my mind. Without some such +explanation the affair is to me an utter mystery. If Charles +Cleveland----" + +"And don't you think you ought to be ashamed of yourself!" she +interrupted. "I rob a bank! I steal a cheque! Has it come to this--that +you suspect _me?_" + +"Forgive me, Adela, if I am wrong. Be it how it may, you should meet +me differently. Oh, my wife, let there be perfect confidence between +us at this moment, on this subject. Tell me the truth, as before +Heaven!" + +"Am I in the habit of telling you untruths? I thought the truths I +tell you were generally a little too plain to be pleasant," she added, +in her bravado. "None but a mean-spirited man could so suspect his +wife." + +"This is all you have to say to me, Adela--your definite answer?" + +"Definite enough," she retorted, with a nervous sob, between a laugh +and a cry; for, what with fear and discomfort, she was becoming +slightly hysterical. + +"I am bound to believe you, Adela," he said, the tears in her eyes +disarming his latent doubts. "I do believe you. But----" + +"And now that you have had your say, listen to me," she interrupted, +choking down all better feelings and speaking with contemptuous anger. +"Never speak on the subject to me again if you would keep up the +semblance of peace between us. My spirit is being dangerously aroused +against you, Mr. Grubb; not only for this injustice to me, but for +your barbarous treatment of poor Charles Cleveland." + +Once more, he knew not why or wherefore, something like a doubt +returned to Mr. Grubb's mind. He held her before him. + +"It has been the truth, Adela?--as I hope, and pray, and trust! I ask +it you once again--that it may be well with us in after-life." + +"Would I trouble myself to tell a falsehood about it to _you!_ Do you +think I have no feeling--that I should bear such distrust? And if you +would recompense me for this mauvais quart d'heure, you will release +that poor fellow tomorrow--for his father's sake." + +She flung her husband's arm away and quitted the room, leaving him to +_his_ feelings. Few can imagine them--torn, outraged, thrown back upon +his generous heart. But she had certainly managed to dispel his doubts +of herself. No guilty woman, as he believed, could have faced it out +as she did. + +"It must have been Cleveland's own act and deed, and no other +person's," he mentally concluded. "What madness could have come over +the lad?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. +TRACING THE NOTES. + + +One of the most able counsellors of the day, Mr. Serjeant Mowham, +chanced to be intimately acquainted with the Rector of Netherleigh; +and the unhappy father despatched him to Newgate, in a friendly, not +in a legal capacity, to see what he could do with or for the prisoner. + +He could not do much. The old saying, "Tell your whole case to your +lawyer and your doctor," is essential advice, but Charles Cleveland +would tell nothing, neither truth nor falsehood. In vain Serjeant +Mowham protested, with tears in his eyes (a stock of which, so the Bar +affirmed, he kept in readiness), that he was working in the dark, +working for pure friendship's sake, and that without some clue or hint +to go upon, no defence that had a chance of success could be made, +even though his advocate before the judge told all the _un_truths that +ever advocate's tongue gave utterance to. The prisoner was immovable, +and Serjeant Mowham in despair. + +How matters really would have ended, and whether Mr. Howard would have +allowed it to come to trial, cannot be said, had not fortune been +kinder to Charles than he was to himself. + +One morning, when the days before the prisoner's second examination +were growing few, the Earl of Acorn had a slice of luck. He had backed +a certain horse at a provincial race meeting, and the horse won. +Amongst other moneys that changed hands was a fifty-pound note. An +hour after the earl received it he made his way into his drawing-room +in haste, where sat his daughters, Grace, and Mary Cleveland; the +latter with her infant on her lap. + +"Mary," cried the earl, "what were the numbers of the notes paid over +to Charles Cleveland at Glyn's? I partly remember them, but not +quite." + +"My husband has the numbers," answered Lady Mary. "But the thing has +given me by far too much worry, papa, for me to retain them in my +head. I am not sure I ever heard them." + +"I have them," interrupted Grace. "I copied them the other day. There +was no knowing, I thought, but it might prove useful." + +"Quite right, Gracie, girl," said the earl. "Let's see them: 'A/Y 3, +0, 2, 5, 5,'" continued Lord Acorn, reading one of the numbers which +Lady Grace laid before him. "I thought so. One of these notes has just +been paid to me, Mary, by young Waterware." + +"Where did he get it?" eagerly inquired Grace. + +"I did not ask him. It was only since I left him that I noticed the +number. I'll get it out of him by-and-by." + +"At once, at once, sir," urged Mary. "Oh, papa, do go to him. I feel +_sure_ Charles is not guilty." + +"No impatience, Mary. Where the deuce am I to pick up Waterware at +this time of day? I might as well look for a needle in a bottle of +hay. Tonight I shall know where to find him." + +Chance, however, favoured the earl. In strolling up St. James's Street +in the afternoon, he met Lord Waterware. + +"I say, Waterware," he began, linking his arm in that of the younger +peer, "where did you get that fifty-pound note you gave me this +morning?" + +"Where did I get it? Let's see. Oh, from Nile. He was owing me a +hundred pounds, and paid me yesterday. That fifty, two twenties, and a +ten. Why? It's not forged, I suppose," cried the young nobleman, with +a yawn. + +"Not exactly. Wish I had a handful of them. Good-day. I'm going on to +Nile's." + +Colonel Nile, though addicted to playing a little at cards for what he +called amusement, and sometimes did it for tolerably high stakes, +was a very different man from those other men mentioned in this +history--Colonel Haughton and Mr. Piggott, who had led Robert +Dalrymple to his ruin. They were professed gamblers, and had +disappeared from good society long ago. Colonel Nile was a popular +member of it, liked and respected. + +Lord Acorn found him at home, walking about in a flowery +dressing-gown. He was a middle-aged man and a bachelor, and well off. + +"The fifty-pound note I paid over to Waterware," cautiously repeated +Colonel Nile, somewhat surprised at the question, and wondering +whether random young Waterware had got into any scrape. "Why do you +want to know where I got it?" + +"Because it is one of the notes that Charley Cleveland is in trouble +for: the first of them that has been traced. You must give me the +information, Nile, or I shall apply for it publicly." + +"Oh, I have no objection in the world," cried the colonel, determined +to afford all that was in his power, and so wash his hands of any +unpleasantness that might turn up. "I received it at Lady Sanely's loo +table, from---- Egad! from your own daughter, Lady Adela." + +"From Lady Adela!" echoed the surprised listener. + +"From Lady Adela, and nobody else," repeated Colonel Nile. "She paid +another fifty to the old Dowager Beck the same evening." + +Lord Acorn stared. "But surely they don't play as high as that there!" + +"Don't they, though! and higher too. To tell you the truth, Acorn, +it's getting a little too high for prudent people. I, for one, mean to +draw in. Old Mother Sanely lives but for cards, and she'd stake her +head if it were loose. She has the deuce's own luck, though." + +With a mental word, sharp and short, given to his daughter Adela for +allowing herself to be mixed up in company and amusement such as this, +Lord Acorn brought his attention back to the present moment. "Adela +gave another fifty-pound note to Lady Beck, you say, the same evening! +Do you happen to know its number?" + +"Not I," retorted the colonel, who was not altogether pleased at the +question. "I don't make it my business to pry into notes that do not +concern me." + +"How long is it ago?" + +"I hardly know. Nearly a week, I suppose. It is four or five days +since I was first confined to the house with this incipient gout. I +think it was the night before that--Saturday night." + +Lord Acorn proceeded straight to Lady Beck's; and, with much trouble +and persuasion, she was induced to exhibit the note spoken of by +Colonel Nile, which was still in her possession, for, like the +colonel, she had been ill for some days, so had had no opportunity of +playing it away. The old dowager was verging on her dotage, and could +not, at first, be convinced that the earl was not going to take law +proceedings against her for winning money of his daughter. He soothed +her, copied the number by stealth, went home, and compared it with +Lady Grace's pocketbook. _It was another of the notes!_ + +"What do you think of it, Grace?" cried the earl, in perplexity. "Can +Cleveland have been owing money to Adela?" + +"I should imagine not," replied Lady Grace. + +"To think she should be such a little fool as to frequent a place +where they play like that!" + +"But, papa, you knew of it." + +"I did not know old Sanely went in for those ruinous stakes. Five +pounds, or so, in a night to risk--I thought no worse than that." + +Grace understood now. She had deemed her father indifferent. He was +then looking at it from one point of view; she from another. + +"It wears a singular appearance," mused the earl. "To tell you the +truth, Grace, I don't like the fact of these notes being traced to +Adela. It looks--after the rumour of the absurd flirtation they +carried on--almost as if she and Cleveland had gone snacks in the +spoil. What now, Gracie? Are you going to fly?" + +For Lady Grace Chenevix had bounded from her chair in sudden +agitation, her arms lifted as if to ward off some dread fear. "Sir! +father! the thing has become clear to me. That I should not have +suspected it before!--knowing what I did know." + +"Child," he cried, gazing at her in amazement, "what is the matter +with you?" + +"Adela did this. I see it all. She drew the cheque. Charles Cleveland +was only her instrument; and, in his infatuated attachment he has +taken the guilt on himself, to shield her. Well may he have asserted +his innocence to his father! Well may his conduct have appeared to us +all so incomprehensible!" + +"Why, Grace, you are mad!" gasped the earl. "Accuse your sister +of--of--forgery! Do you reflect on the meaning of your words?" + +"Father, do not look so sternly at me. I feel sure I am right. I +assure you it is as if scales had fallen from my eyes, for I see it +perfectly clearly. Adela wanted money for play: she had been drawn in, +far deeper than any one suspected, sir, at Lady Sanely's gaming-table. +It was Mr. Grubb's intention to refuse her further funds: no doubt he +did refuse them: and then----" + +"How do you know it was his intention?" + +"Oh, papa, I do know it; never mind how, now; I say that Mr. Grubb +must have refused her; and she, when this cheque-book fell into her +hands----" + +"Don't continue, Grace," sharply interposed Lord Acorn; "you make +my blood run cold. You must prove what you assert, or retract it. +If--it--is proved"--the earl drew a long breath--"Cleveland must be +extricated. What a thundering fool the fellow must be?" + +"Let me have time to think," said Grace, putting her hand to her head. +"Extricated of course he must be, for I know it is true, but--if +possible--without exposing Adela." + +With the last words, Grace sank back in her chair and burst into a +storm of sobs. Lord Acorn was little less moved. They spoke together +further, and agreed not to tell Mary Cleveland, in spite of her state +of impatience, that Lord Acorn had traced the numbers of the two +notes. + +Lady Grace decided to confide all to Mr. Grubb. It could not be kept +from him long; and she wanted to bespeak his clemency for Adela. So in +the evening she proceeded to his house, tolerably sure that her sister +would be out somewhere or other. But she found Mr. Grubb also out: at +his club, Hilson thought. Grace dismissed her carriage, went up to the +drawing-room, and wrote a word to Mr. Grubb, asking him to come home. +The thought crossed her, that perhaps it was not quite the thing to +do, but Lady Grace Chenevix was not the one to stand upon formal +ceremony. + +He returned at once, looking rather anxious. "Anything the matter, +Grace? Anything amiss with Adela? She's not ill?" + +"She is at the opera, I fancy; very well, no doubt." And then she sat +down and imparted her suspicions--just an allusion to them--that her +poor sister was the culprit. + +"Grace," he whispered, "I don't mind telling you that the same fear +haunted me, and I spoke to her. She indignantly denied it." + +"Two of the notes have been traced," murmured Grace. + +"Traced!" + +"Paid away by Adela at Lady Sanely's." + +There was a dead silence. Lady Grace Chenevix did not raise her +eyelids, for she felt keenly the pain of avowal. An ominous shade of +despair overspread his face. + +"Grace, Grace," he broke forth in anguish, "what is it you are +saying?" + +"One of them, for fifty pounds, came into my father's hands today, +and he has traced it back to Adela," continued Grace, striving to keep +down the signs of her pain. "Another of them she paid the same evening +to the Dowager Beck. Papa knows of this; he found it out today. What +inference can we draw but that Adela---- You know what I would say." + +"Could she descend to this?" he groaned. "To be a party with Charles +Cleveland in----" + +"Charles was no party to it," interrupted Grace, warmly; "he must have +been her instrument, nothing more. Rely upon that. Whatever may be his +follies, he is the soul of honour. And it must be from some chivalrous +sense of honour, of noblesse oblige, you understand, that he is +continuing to shield her now the matter has come out. What is to be +done? Charles Cleveland must not be tried as a felon." + +"Heaven forbid!--if he be indeed innocent. But, Grace," thoughtfully +added Mr. Grubb, "I cannot but think you are mistaken. Were Adela +guilty, she would have acknowledged it to me when I assured her in all +tenderness that I would forgive, shield, and protect her." + +Grace answered by a despairing gesture. "She would not confess to you +for very shame, I fear. Dear Mr. Grubb, _what_ is to be done? We have +to save Adela's good name as well as his. You must see Charles, and +get the truth from him." + +"I would rather get it from Adela." + +"If you can. I doubt it. Having denied it once, she will never confess +now." + +Lady Grace had reason. Mr. Grubb spoke to his wife the following +morning. He said that two of the notes had been traced to her +possession; and that, for her own sake, she had better explain, while +grace was yet held out to her. But he spoke very coolly, without the +smallest sign of endearment or tenderness; nay, there was a suspicion +of contempt in his tone, and that put Adela's spirit up. + +What answered she? Was she quite blind, quite foolish? She persisted +in her denial, called him by a scornful name, haughtily ordered him to +be silent, and finally marched out of his presence, declaring she +would not re-enter it until he could finally drop all allusion to the +subject. + +With a half-curse on his lips--he, so temperate and sweet-tempered a +man!--Mr. Grubb went straight to Newgate, and obtained an interview +with the prisoner. It came to nothing satisfactory; Charles was harder +in his obstinacy than ever. From thence Mr. Grubb drove back to the +West End, to Chenevix House. Some morning visitors were there, and +Lady Mary Cleveland was exhibiting her baby to them. Mr. Grubb admired +with the rest, and then made a sign to Grace. She followed him into +the next room. + +"I don't see what is to be done," he began. "Adela will not hear a +word, will not admit anything, and I can make nothing of Charles +Cleveland. Upon my mentioning Adela--of course, only in hints; I could +not accuse my wife outright to him--he interrupted me with a request +that I would not introduce Lady Adela's name into so painful a matter; +that he had brought the disgrace upon himself, and was prepared to pay +for it. I think he may have lent the two notes to Adela. It would be +only one hundred pounds out of the five. I cannot believe, if my wife +were guilty, that Cleveland would take the penalty upon himself. +Transportation for life, or whatever the sentence incurred may be, is +no light matter, Grace." + +Grace shuddered. "Do not let him incur the risk of it." + +"I would rather cut off my right hand than punish a man unjustly, were +he my greatest enemy. But unless I can get at the truth of this +matter, and find proof that your view of it is correct, I shall have +no plea, to my partner, to my bankers, or to my own conscience, for +hushing it up; and the law must take its course." + +"Alas! alas!" murmured Lady Grace. + +"You seem to overlook my feelings in this affair, Grace," he +whispered, a deep hue dyeing his cheeks. "That she may have had +something to do with it, her paying away the notes proves: and to find +the wife of your bosom thus in league with another---- You don't know +what it is, Grace." + +"I can imagine it," she answered, the tears standing in her eyes, as +she rose to answer his adieu. "Believe me, you have, and always have +had, my deepest and truest sympathy; but Adela is my sister; what more +can I say?" + +Grace sat on, alone. The murmur of voices came to her from the +adjacent room, but she heeded it not. She leaned her head upon her +hand, and debated with herself. It was imperative that the real facts +of the case should be brought to light; for if Charles Cleveland were +permitted to stand his trial, perhaps to suffer the penalty of +transportation, and it came out, later, that he was innocent, and her +sister the guilty party, what a fearful position would be that of +Adela! + +Could Charley not be brought to confess through stratagem, mentally +debated Grace. Suppose he were led to believe that Adela, to save him, +had declared the truth, then he might speak. It was surely a good +idea. Grace weighed it, in all its bearings, and thought the end would +justify the means. But to whom entrust so delicate a mission? Not to +Mr. Cleveland, he would betray it all to Charles at the first +sentence; not Mr. Grubb; his high sense of honour would never let him +intimate that Adela had confessed what she had not; not to Lady Mary, +for her only idea of Newgate was that it was a place overflowing with +infectious fevers, which she should inevitably bring home to baby. +Lord Acorn? Somehow Grace could not ask him. Who next? Who else was +there? _Herself?_ Yes, and Grace felt that none were more fitted for +the task than she was--she who had the subject so much at heart. And +she resolved to go. + +But she could not go alone to Newgate. Her mother ought to be with +her. Now the matter, relative to the tracing of the notes to Adela, +had been kept from Lady Acorn. Grace disclosed it to her in the +emergency, and made her the confidante of what she meant to do. + +Lady Acorn sat aghast. For once in her life she was terrified to +silence and meekness. Grace obtained her consent, and the time for the +expedition was fixed. Not that Lady Acorn relished it. + +"If it be as you and your father believe, Grace, Master Charley +Cleveland deserves the soundest shaking man ever had yet," cried she, +when speech returned to her. + +"Ah, mamma! Then what must Adela deserve?" + +"To be in Newgate herself," tartly responded Lady Acorn. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. +A DISAGREEABLE EXPEDITION. + + +It was Monday morning. Charles Cleveland sat on his iron bedstead in +his dreary cell in Newgate: of which cell he had become heartily tired +by this time: chewing there in solitude the cud of his reflections, +which came crowding one upon another. None of them were agreeable, as +may be imagined, but pressing itself upon him more keenly than all, +was the sensation of deep, dark disappointment. Above the discomfort +of his present position, above the sense of shame endured, above the +hard, degrading life that loomed for him in the future, he felt the +neglect of Lady Adela. She, for whom he was bearing all the misery and +disgrace in this dreadful dungeon, had never, by letter or by message, +sought to convey a ray of sympathy to cheer him. The neglect, the +indifference may have been unavoidable, but it told not the less +bitterly on the spirit of the prisoner. + +A noise at his cell door. The heavy key was turning in the lock, and +the prisoner looked up eagerly--a visit was such a break in his dreary +day. Two ladies were entering, and his heart beat wildly--wildly; for +in the appearance of one he discerned some resemblance to Lady +Adela's. _Had_ she come to see him! and he had been so ungratefully +blaming her! But the lady raised her veil, and he was recalled to his +sober senses. It was only Grace Chenevix. + +"So, Charles, an awful scrape you have brought yourself into, through +your flirting nonsense with Adela!" began the Countess of Acorn, as +she followed her daughter in. + +"Now, mamma, dear mamma," implored Grace, in a whisper, "if you +interfere, you will ruin all." + +"Ruin all! much obliged to you, Grace! I think he has ruined himself," +retorted the countess, in a shrill tone. Never famous for a sweet +temper or a silent tongue, Lady Acorn was not improved by the trouble +that had fallen on them, or by this distasteful expedition which she +had been forced, so to say, to take this morning, for she could not +allow Grace to come alone. The unhappy prisoner would reap the full +benefit of her acrimony. + +"I wonder you can look us in the face," she went on to him. "Had any +one told me I should sometime walk through Newgate attended by +turnkeys, I should have said it was a libel. We came down in a hack +cab. I wouldn't have brought the servants here for the world." + +"I shall ever feel grateful to you," breathed Charles. + +"Oh, never mind about gratitude," unceremoniously interrupted Lady +Acorn; "there's no time for it. Let us say what we have to say, Grace, +and be gone. I'm all in a tremor, lest those men with keys should come +and lock me up. Of course, Charles, you know it has all come out." + +Charles looked up sharply. + +"Which is more luck than you could have expected," added the countess, +while Grace sat on thorns, lest some unlucky admission of her mother's +should ruin all, as she had just phrased it, and unable to get a word +in edgeways. "Of all brainless simpletons you are the worst. If Adela +chose (like the thoughtless, wicked girl she is, though she is my +daughter) to write her husband's name to a cheque, was that any reason +why you should go hotheaded to work, and make believe you did it? Mr. +Grubb is not your husband, and you have no right to his money. Things +that the law will permit a wife to do with impunity, you might be run +up to the drop for." + +"Who has been saying this?" breathed the prisoner, bewildered with the +torrent of words, and their signification. "Surely not Lady Adela." + +"Charles," interposed Grace, and her quiet tones, after those of the +countess, sounded like the lulling of a storm, "there is no necessity +for further mystery, or for your continuing to assume the guilt; +which, as my mother says, was an unwise step on your part----" + +"I did not say unwise," sharply interrupted the countess; "call things +by their right names, Lady Grace. It was insanity, and nobody but an +idiot would have done it. That's what I said." + +"The circumstances are known to us now," went on Grace, speaking +quietly. "Poor Adela, at her wits' end for money, drew the cheque, and +sent you to cash it. And then, terrified at what she had done, +persuaded you to assume the responsibility." + +"She did not persuade me," explained Charles, falling completely into +the snare, and believing every word that was spoken, yet still anxious +to excuse Lady Adela. "I volunteered to bear it. And I would do as +much again." + +"Charles--mamma, pray let me speak for a minute--had you been present +when Adela wrote the cheque, you would been doubly to blame. She----" + +Charles shook his head. "I was not present." + +"She, poor thing, was excited at the moment, and incapable of +reflection, but you ought to have recalled her to reason, and refused +to aid in it--for her own sake." + +"And of course I should," eagerly answered Mr. Charles, "had I known +there was anything wrong about it. She brought me the cheque, ready +filled in----" + +"When you went up from the City for the cheque-book, on the Saturday +morning. Yes, we know all." + +"I declare I thought it was Mr. Grubb's writing, if ever I saw his +writing in my life. I was not likely to have any other thought--how +could I have? And I never recalled the matter to my mind, or knew +anything more about it, till the Monday night, when I came up from +Netherleigh: as I suppose Lady Adela has told you, if she has told you +the rest." + +"And then you undertook to shield her," interposed Lady Acorn, "and a +glorious mess you have made of it between you. Grace, how you worry! +you can speak when I have done. What she did would have been hushed up +by her husband for all our sakes, but what you did was a very +different matter. And the disgrace you have gratuitously brought upon +yourself may yet be blazoned forth to every corner of the United +Kingdom." + +"And these are all the thanks I get," remarked Charles, striving to +speak lightly. + +"What other thanks would you like?" remarked the countess. "A service +of plate presented to you? You deserve a testimonial, don't you, for +having run your head into a noose of this dangerous kind for any woman! +And for Adela, of all others, who cares for no one on earth but her +blessed self. Not she." + +"My mother is right," said Lady Grace, "and it may be as well, +Charles, that you should know it. Adela has never cared for you in any +way, except as an amusing boy, who could talk nonsense to her when she +chose to condescend to listen. If you have thought anything else----" + +"I never had a disloyal thought to Lady Adela," interrupted Charles, +warmly. "Or to her husband--who has always been so kind to me. I would +have warded all such--all ill--from her with my life." + +"And nicely she has repaid you!" commented Lady Acorn. "Do you suppose +she would have confessed this herself?--no, we found it out. She would +have let you suffer, and never said 'Thank you.' I tell you this, +Master Charley; and I hope you will let it prove to you what the +smiles of a heartless butterfly of a married woman are worth." + +He bit his dry and fevered lips with mortification--fevered for _her_. +And Lady Acorn, after bestowing a few more unpalatable truths upon the +unhappy prisoner, took her daughter's arm and hurried away, glad to +escape from the place and the interview. + +"A capital success we have had, Gracie," she cried, when they were +outside the stone walls, "but it is all thanks to me. You would have +beat about the bush, and palavered, and hesitated, and done no good. I +got it out of him nicely--like the green sea-gull that the boy is. +But, Grace, my child"--and Lady Acorn's voice for once grew hushed and +solemn--"what in the world will be done with Adela?" + + +It was a painful scene, that in which they brought it home to Lady +Adela. When Lady Acorn carried to her husband the news of Charles's +unconscious avowal, he was struck almost dumb with consternation. The +worst conclusion he had come to, in regard to some of the notes being +traced to his daughter, was that she had but borrowed money from +Charles Cleveland. Innocently? Yes; he could not and would not think +she had any knowledge of how Charles became possessed of the notes. +Lord Acorn, in spite of his perpetual embarrassments, and his not +altogether straightforward shifts to evade them, possessed the true +sense of honour that generally belongs to his order. He possessed it +especially in regard to woman; and to find that his most favoured and +favourite daughter had been guilty of theft; of--of---- He could not +pursue the thought, as he sank down with his pain. + +"We had better go to her, and hear what she has to plead in excuse, +and--and--ascertain how far her peculations have gone," he said +presently to his wife. "Perhaps there are more of them. Poor Grubb!" + +So they went to Grosvenor Square, arm-in-arm, but sick at heart, and +found Lady Adela alone. She was toying with a golden bird in a golden +cage; gold at any rate in colour; a recent purchase. Her afternoon +dress of muslin had golden-hued sprigs upon it, and there was much +gilding of mirrors and other ornaments in the room, the taste of that +day. A gay scene altogether, and Adela the gayest and prettiest object +in it. + +She was not quite as heartless, though, as appeared on the surface, or +as Lady Acorn judged her to be. Adela was growing frightened. She was +beginning to realize what it was she had done, and to wonder, in much +self-torment, what would come of it. That Mr. Grubb would release +Charles Cleveland she had not at first entertained the smallest doubt, +or that the affair would be entirely hushed up. Charles would be true +to her, never disclose her name, and there it would end. With this +fond expectation she had buoyed herself up. But as the days went on, +and Charles was still kept in Newgate, soon to be brought up for +another examination preparatory to committal for trial, she grew +alarmed. For the past day or two her uneasiness had been intolerable. +Could she have saved Charles and his good name by confessing the +truth, and run away for ever from the sight of men, she would have +done it thankfully; but to take the guilt upon herself, and such +debasing guilt, _and_ remain before the world!--this was utterly +repugnant, not to say impossible, to the proud heart of Lady Adela. + +It was so unusual to see her father and mother come in together, and +to see them both with solemn faces, that Adela's heart leaped, as the +saying runs, into her mouth. Still, it _might_ not portend any adverse +meaning, and she rallied her courage. + +"I want to make him sing," she cried, turning on them her bright and +smiling face. "Did you ever see so beautiful a colour, papa? I _hope_ +he is not too beautiful to sing." + +But there was no answering smile on the faces of either father or +mother, only an increased solemnity. Lord Acorn, waving his hand +towards the bird as if he would, wave off a too frivolous toy, touched +her arm and pointed to a chair. + +"Sit down, Adela." + +She turned as white as death. Lady Acorn opened her lips to begin, a +great wrath evidently upon them, but her lord and master imperatively +waved his hand to her for silence, as he had just waved away the +frivolous bird, and addressed his daughter. + +"What is to become of you, Adela?" + +She neither spoke nor moved. She sat back in an armchair, with her +white and terror-stricken face. Her teeth began to chatter. + +"How came you to do it?" he continued. + +"To--to--do what?" she gasped. + +"To do what!" screamed out Lady Acorn, utterly unable to control her +tongue and her reproaches longer--"why, to rifle your husband's +cheque-book of a cheque, and fill it in, and forge the firm's +signature, and despatch that unsuspicious baby, Charles Cleveland, to +cash it." + +"Who--who says I did that?" asked Adela, making one last, hopeless, +desperate effort to defend herself. + +"Who----" + +"Betsy, if you can't let me speak, you had better go away for a few +minutes," cried Lord Acorn, arresting a fresh burst of eloquence from +his wife. "That you did do this thing, Adela, is known now; some of +the notes have been traced to you, all the particulars have been +traced, and Charles Cleveland has confessed to them. Any denial you +could attempt would be more idle than the chirping of that bird." + +"Charles has confessed to them?" she whispered, taken aback by this +blow. Nothing, save his confession, could have brought it absolutely +home to her. + +"Did you set up a fantastic hope that he would keep silence to the +end, and go to his hanging to save you?" demanded Lady Acorn, defying +her lord's wish to have the whole ball to himself. "Proofs came out +against you, Madam Adela, as your father says; they were carried to +Charles Cleveland, and he could but admit the truth." + +"_Why_ did you do this terrible thing? That my daughter whom I have so +loved, should be capable of sullying herself with such disgrace!" +broke off Lord Acorn, with a wail. In good truth, it had been a blow +to him, and one he had never bargained for. To play a little at Lady +Sanely's for amusement, was one thing; he had, so to say, winked at +that; but to _gamble_ and to steal money to pay her gambling debts, +was quite another. "Adela, I could almost wish I had died before +hearing of it." + +Adela burst into tears. "I wanted the money so badly," she sobbed, +hiding her face with her trembling hands. "I owed it--a great deal--to +people at Lady Sanely's. I was at my wits' end, and Mr. Grubb would +not give me any more. Oh, papa, forgive me! Can't it be hushed up?" + +"Did you help yourself to more than that?" asked Lord Acorn. + +"I do not understand," she faltered, not catching his meaning. + +"Have you drawn or used any other false cheque?" + +"Oh no, no; only that. Papa, _won't_ you forgive me?" + +He shook his head. No, he felt that he could not. "My forgiveness may +not be of vital consequence to you, one way or the other, Adela," he +remarked, with a groan, that he drowned by coughing. "The termination +of this affair does not lie with me." + +"It lies with my husband," she said in a low tone. "He will hush it +up." + +"It does not lie with him, Adela," sternly spoke Lord Acorn. "Had it +been one of his private cheques, had you used his name only, it might +in a great degree have rested with him--unless the bankers had taken +it up." + +"But you borrowed old Mr. Howard's name as well," struck in Lady +Acorn; "and, if he pleases to be stern and obstinate, he can just +place you where Charles Cleveland is, and you would have to stand your +trial in the face and eyes of the world. A pretty disgrace for us all! +A frightful calamity!" + +Adela looked from one to the other, her face changing pitiably; now +white as snow with fear, now hectic with emotion and shame. + +"Mr. Grubb has full power in Leadenhall Street," she pleaded. "He will +take care to shield _me_." + +"Are you sure of that?" quietly asked her father. "Has your conduct to +him been such--I don't allude to this one pitiable instance, I speak +of your treatment of him generally--has it been such that you can +assume he will inevitably go out of his way to shield you, right or +wrong?" + +In spite of the miserable shame that filled her, a passing flush of +triumph crossed her face. Ay! and her heart. What though she _had_ +persistently done her best to estrange her husband, with her provoking +ways and her scornful contumely, very conscious felt she that she was +all in all to him still. Why, had he not begged of her to confide this +thing to him, and he would make it straight and guard her from +exposure? + +"I have nothing to fear from him, papa; I know it. It will be all +right." + +"How can you assert this in barefaced confidence, you wicked child?" +groaned Lady Acorn. "I would not--no, I would not be so brazen for the +world." + +"Adela, don't deceive yourself with vain expectations; it may be +harder for you in the end," interposed her father, once more making a +deprecatory motion towards the place where his wife's tongue lay. "You +are assuming a surety which you have no right to feel; better look the +truth sternly in the face." + +"I am his wife, papa," she faintly urged. "He will be _sure_ to +shelter me." + +"He may be able to shelter you from exposure; I doubt not but that he +will do it, so far as he can, for his own sake as well as for yours; +for all our sakes, indeed. But----" + +"A few years ago you might have been hanged," struck in Lady Acorn. +"Hanged outside Newgate. I can remember the time when death was the +penalty for forgery. Dr. Dodd was hung for it. How would you have +liked that?" + +Adela did not say how she would have liked it. She was passing her +hands nervously across her face, as if to keep down its pallor. As to +Lord Acorn, he despaired of being allowed to finish any argument he +might begin, and paced the room restlessly. + +"But, though your husband may shield you from public exposure, it is +too much to hope that he will absolve you from consequences, and I +think you will have to face and bear them," recommenced Lord Acorn, +talking while he walked. "Had my wife served me as you have served +Grubb, I should have put her away from me for ever; and I tell it you, +Adela, before her as she stands there, though she is your mother." + +"And served me right, too," commented Lady Acorn. + +"How do you mean, papa?" gasped Adela. + +"My meaning ought to be plain enough," was Lord Acorn's angry reproof. +"Are you wilfully shutting your eyes to the nature of the offence you +have sullied yourself with?--its degradation?--its sin?" he sharply +questioned. "There's hardly a worse in our criminal code, that I know +of, except murder." + +"But I do not understand," she faintly reiterated. "If my husband +absolves me, who else----" + +"He may absolve you so far as the general public goes, shield you from +that penalty," was the impatient interruption; "but not from your +offence to himself. In my judgment, you must not look for that." + +Adela did not answer. She glanced at her father questioningly, with an +imploring look. + +"A man has put his wife away from him for a much less cause than +this," continued Lord Acorn. "And your husband, I fancy, must have +been already pretty nigh tired out. What has your conduct been to him, +Adela, ever since your marriage?" + +She bent her head, her face flushing. To be taken to task by her +father was a bitter pill, in addition to all the other discomfort. + +"_It has been shameful!_" emphatically pronounced Lord Acorn. "For my +part, I marvel that Grubb has borne it. But that I make it a rule not +to interfere with my daughters, once they have left my roof for that +of a husband, I should not have borne it tamely for him; and that I +now tell you, Adela. One or two hints that I have given you from time +to time you have disregarded." + +"He has borne with her and indulged her to the top of her bent, when +he ought to have taken her by the shoulders and shaken her insolence +out of her," nodded the mother. + +"Had you been a loving wife, Adela, things might have a better chance +of going well with you," pursued her father, with another motion of +the hand. "But, remembering what your treatment of your husband has +persistently been, you can have no plea for praying leniency of him +now, or he much inclination to accord it." + +Lady Adela would have liked to give her head a saucy toss. She knew +better; her father could not judge of her husband as she could. +"Francis can't beat me," she thought. "He can lecture me, and _will_; +and I must bear it meekly for once, under the circumstances." + +She looked up at her father. + +"My husband is very fond of me, in spite of all," she whispered. + +"Yes; he is fond of you," returned Lord Acorn, with emotion. "Too +fond. His behaviour to you proves that. Why, how much money have you +had of him, drawn from him by your wiles, beyond your large legitimate +allowance?" + +Adela did not answer. "Has he spoken of it?" she asked, the question +occurring to her. + +"No, he has not spoken of it; he is not the man to speak of it. I +gather so much from your sisters: they talk of it among themselves. +One might have thought that your husband's kindness to you would have +won your regard, had nothing else done it. It strikes me all that will +be over now," concluded Lord Acorn. + +Adela answered by a sobbing sigh. + +"You have been on the wrong tack for some time now," he resumed, as an +afterthought. "Who but a silly-minded woman would have made herself +ridiculous, as you have, by flirting with a boy like Charles +Cleveland? Do----" + +"Oh, papa! You cannot think for a moment I meant anything!" she +exclaimed, her cheeks flushing hotly. + +"Except to vex your husband. Do you think your foolishness--I could +call it by a harsher name--did not give sorrow to myself and your +mother? We had deemed you sensible, honourable, open as the day: not +the hard-hearted, frivolous woman you have turned out to be. Well, +Adela, people generally have to reap what they sow: and I fear your +harvest will not be a pleasant one." + +She pressed her trembling hands together. + +"Where are you going?" inquired Lady Acorn, as her husband took his +hat up. + +"To Leadenhall Street--to Grubb. Some one must apprise him of this +dreadful truth; and I suppose it falls to me to do it--and a most +distressing task it is. Would you have allowed young Cleveland to +stand his trial?--to have suffered the penalty of the crime?" broke +off Lord Acorn to his daughter. + +"It would never have come to that, papa." + +"But it would have come to that; it was coming to it. I ask, would you +have allowed an innocent lad to be sent over the seas for you?" + +Adela shuddered. "I must have spoken then," was her faint answer. + +Lord Acorn, jumping into a cab, proceeded to Leadenhall Street, to +make this wretched confession to his son-in-law. Had he been making it +of himself, he would have felt it less. He was, however, spared the +task. Mr. Grubb was not in the City, and Mr. Grubb already knew the +truth. + +It chanced that, close upon the departure of Lady Acorn and her +daughter Grace from Charles Cleveland's cell that morning, Serjeant +Mowham was shown into it: and the reader may as well be reminded that +the learned serjeant had not taken up Charles's case in his +professional capacity, but simply as an anxious friend. Without going +into details, Charles told him that the truth had now come out, his +innocence was made apparent to those concerned, and he hoped he should +soon see the last of the precious walls he was incarcerated within. +Away rushed Serjeant Mowham to Leadenhall Street, asking an +explanation of Messrs. Grubb and Howard; and very much surprised did +he feel at finding those gentlemen knew nothing. + +"I am positive it is a fact," persisted the serjeant to them. "One +cannot mistake Charley's changed tones and looks. Some evidence that +exculpates him has turned up, rely upon it, and I thought, of course, +you must know what it was. Lady Acorn and one of her daughters went +out from him just before I got there." + +Mr. Grubb felt curious; rather uneasy. If Charles Cleveland was +exonerated, who had been the culprit? + +"I shall go and see him at once," he said to Mr. Howard. + +And now Charles Cleveland fell into another error. Never supposing but +that Mr. Grubb must know at least as much as Lady Acorn knew, he +unconsciously betrayed all. In his eagerness to show his kind patron +he was not quite the ungrateful wretch he appeared to be, he betrayed +it. + +"I never thought of such a thing, sir, as that it was not your +cheque--I mean your own signature," he pleaded. "I wouldn't have done +such a thing for all the world--and after all your goodness to me for +so many months! It was only when I came up from Netherleigh on the +Monday evening I found there was something wrong with it." + +"You heard it from Lady Adela," spoke Mr. Grubb, quietly accepting the +mistake. + +"Yes. She told me how it was. Mr. Howard was with you then in the +dining-room, and his coming had frightened her. She seemed in dreadful +distress, and I promised to shield her as far as I could." + +"You should have confided the truth to me," interrupted Mr. Grubb. +"All trouble might have been avoided." + +"But how could I?--and after my voluntary promise to Lady Adela! What +would you have thought of me, sir, had I shifted the blame from myself +to lay it upon her?" added Charley, lifting his ingenuous, honest eyes +to his master's. + +Mr. Grubb did not say what he should have thought. Charles rather +misinterpreted the silence: he fancied Mr. Grubb must be angry with +him. + +"Of course it has been a heavy blow to me, the being accused of such a +thing, and to have had to accept the accusation, and to lie here in +Newgate, with no prospect before me but transportation; but I ask you +what else I could do, sir? I could not clear myself at the expense of +Lady Adela." + +Mr. Grubb did not answer this appeal. Telling Charles that steps +should be taken for his release, and enjoining him to absolute silence +as regarded Lady Adela's name, he returned to Leadenhall Street, and +held a private conference with his partner. + +What passed at it was known only to themselves, or how far Francis +Grubb found it necessary to speak of his wife. Mr. Howard noticed one +thing--that the young man (young, as compared with himself) looked at +moments utterly bewildered; once or twice he talked at random. The +following morning was the one fixed for Charles's second examination +before Sir Turtle Kite, when, that worthy alderman being satisfied, he +must of course be released. + +Barely was the conference over and this resolution fixed upon, when a +most urgent summons came to Mr. Grubb from Blackheath--his mother was +supposed to be dying. He started off without the loss of a moment. And +when, some time later, the Earl of Acorn arrived, he found only Mr. +Howard, and learnt from him that Charles would be discharged on the +following morning. + +Just for a moment we must return to Adela. When Lady Acorn left +her--after exhausting her whole vocabulary in the art of scolding, +and waiting to drink some tea she asked for, for her lips were +parched--Adela buried her face on the gold-coloured satin +sofa-cushion, and indulged her repentance to her heart's content. It +was sincere--and bitter. Were the time to come over again--oh, that it +could!--far rather would she cut off her right hand than do what she +had done; she would die, rather than do such a thing again. It was +altogether a dreadful prospect yet--at least, it might be. What if +they would not exonerate Charley without inculpating her? Not her +husband; she did not fear him; old Howard, and the bankers, and those +aldermen on the bench? How should she meet it? where should she run +to? what would the world say of her? Lady Adela started from the +cushion affrighted. Her lips were more parched than her mother's had +been, and she rang for some tea on her own score. + +She sat back in her chair after drinking it, her pretty hands lying +listless on her pretty dress, and tried to think matters out. As soon +as her husband came home she would throw herself upon his bosom and +confess all, and plead for mercy with tears and kisses as she had +never pleaded before, and give him her word never to touch another +card, and whisper that in future she would be his dear wife. He would +not refuse to forgive her; no fear of that; he would tell her not to +be naughty again, and make all things right. She would tell him that +she might have loved him from the first, for it was the truth, but +that she steeled her heart and her temper against him, because of his +name and of his being a City man; and she would tell him that she +could and should love him from henceforth, that the past was past, and +they would be as happy together as the day was long. + +A yearning impatience grew upon her for his return as she sat and +thought thus. What hour was it? Surely he was at home sometimes +earlier than this! + +As she turned her head to look at the timepiece on the marble console, +Hilson came in, a note on his small silver salver. + +"One of the clerks brought it up from Leadenhall Street, my lady," he +remarked, as he held it out to her. "He said there was no answer." + +It was not her husband's writing, and Lady Adela opened it with +trembling fingers. Had some now and dreadful phase turned up in this +unhappy business? The fear, that it had, flashed through her. + + +"DEAR MADAM, + +"Mr. Grubb has been sent for to his mother, who is dangerously ill. He +requested me to drop you a line to say he should probably remain at +Blackheath for the night. I therefore do so, and despatch it to you by +a clerk. + +"Your obedient servant, + +"JAMES HOWARD." + + +"So I can't do it," she cried, thinking of all she had been planning +out, something like resentment making itself heard in her disappointed +heart. "What a wretched evening it will be!" + +Wretched enough. She did not venture to go to Chenevix House whilst +lying under its wrathful displeasure; she had not the face to show +herself elsewhere in this uncertainty and trouble. + +"I wish," she burst forth, with a petulant tap of her black satin +slipper on the carpet, "I wish that tiresome Mrs. Lynn would get well! +Or else die, and have done with it." + +The Lady Adela was not altogether in an entirely penitential frame of +mind yet. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. +SIR TURTLE KITE. + + +What a delightful world this might be if all our fond plans and hopes +could only be fulfilled! if no adverse influence crept in to frustrate +them! + +Never a doubt had crossed the mind of those concerned for the welfare +of Charles Cleveland, that he would be set at liberty on Tuesday, the +day following the one above spoken of. + +It was not to be. Charles was brought up, as previously, for private +examination before Alderman Sir Turtle Kite. No evidence was offered; +on the contrary, a legal gentleman, one Mr. Primerly, the noted +solicitor for the house of Grubb and Howard, intimated that there was +none to offer--the charge had been a mistake altogether. + +Sir Turtle Kite was a little man, as broad as he was long, +with a smiling round face and shiny bald head, the best-hearted, +easiest-natured, and pleasantest-tempered of all the bench of +aldermen. He would fain have been lenient to the worst offender; added +to which, he knew about as much of the law as he did of the new comet, +just then spreading its tail in the heavens. Therefore, unconsciously +lacking the acumen to make an able administrator of justice, Sir +Turtle, as a natural sequence, was especially fond of sitting to +administer it. Latterly he had sat daily, and generally alone, much +gout and dyspepsia prevailing just then amidst his brother-aldermen. +The Lord Mayor of the year was a bon vivant, and gave a civic dinner +five days in the week. Certain recent judicial decisions of Sir +Turtle's, mild as usual, had been called in question by the +newspapers; and one of them sharply attacked him in a leading article, +asking why he did not discharge every prisoner brought before him, and +regale him with luncheon. + +Reading this article at breakfast, Sir Turtle came forth to the +magisterial bench this day, Tuesday, smarting under its castigation. +And, to the utter surprise of every one in the private justice-room, +he declined to release the prisoner, Charles Cleveland. Rubbing his +bald head, and making the best little speech he could--he was no +orator--Sir Turtle talked of the fatal effects that might arise from +the miscarriage of justice, and his resolve to uphold it in all its +integrity. + +Mr. Grubb was not present. Mr. Howard, who was, stared with +astonishment, having always known the benevolent little alderman to be +as pliant as a bit of cap-paper. James Howard said what he dared; as +much as it was expedient to say, against the alderman's decision; but +to no purpose. Sir Turtle, trying to put the wisdom of an owl into his +round face, demanded to know, if the prisoner was not guilty, who was? +This not being satisfactorily explained, he remanded the prisoner to +the following morning, when he would probably be committed for trial. +And, with this consolatory decision, Charles was conveyed back to his +lodgings in Newgate. + +Mr. Howard, somewhat put out by the contretemps, and by the alderman's +rejection of his declared testimony that the prisoner was innocent, +wrote a note to Lord Acorn with the news, and sent it to Chenevix +House by hand. He had promised to notify the release of Charles, when +that should be accomplished. But he had to notify a very different +fact. + +"Bless my heart!" exclaimed Lord Acorn, when he opened the note late +in the afternoon, for he (also relieved of his worst fears) had been +out gadding. "This is a dreadful thing!" + +"What is the matter?" cried his wife, who was sitting there with +Grace. "One would think the world was coming to an end, to look at +your face." + +The earl's face just then was considerably lengthened. He stood +twirling his whiskers, and gazing at James Howard's very plain +handwriting. + +"They won't release Cleveland, Howard writes me," said the earl. +"Things have taken a cross turn." + +Grace closed her book and clasped her hands. Lady Acorn threw down her +knitting, and inquired who would not release him. + +"The magistrate who has sat to hear the case," replied Lord Acorn. +"Sir--what's the odd name?--Turtle Kite. He refuses, absolutely, to +release Charles, until the true culprit shall be brought before +him--seems to think it is a trick, Howard says." + +"Good Heavens!" cried Lady Grace, foreseeing more dire consequences +than she would have liked to speak of. "What will become of Charles? +What of Adela? Oh, papa! they cannot compel her to appear, can +they?--to take Charles's place?" + +"I don't know what they can do," gloomily responded the earl. "Hang +these aldermen! What right have they to turn obstinate, when a +prisoner's innocence is vouched for?" + +"And where _is_ the prisoner?" cried my lady. + +"Taken back to Newgate. Is to be brought up again tomorrow, _to be +committed for trial_. Well, this is a pretty kettle of fish!" + +Grace bit her pale and trembling lips. "Was Mr. Grubb at the +examination, papa?" + +"No. Grubb's at Blackheath. Has not been up, Howard says, since he +went down yesterday. What on earth is to be done?" + +"The best thing to do is for you to go to Blackheath and see Mr. +Grubb," promptly cried the countess. "If Adela were a child, I should +beat her. Bringing all this worry and disgrace upon us!" + +"I couldn't go there and be back for the dinner," cried he. + +For they were engaged that evening to a state dinner at a duke's. + +"Bother dinner!" irascibly retorted Lady Acorn. "If this affair can't +be stopped, Adela will have to be smuggled over to the Continent, and +stay in hiding there. If it is _not_ stopped, and her name has to +appear, we shall never be able to show our faces at a dinner-table +again." + +Lord Acorn wore a perplexed brow. Look at the affair in what light +they would, it seemed to present nothing but difficulty. Once Charles +Cleveland was committed for trial, what would be the end of it? He +_could not_ be allowed to stand his trial--and what might not that +involve for Adela? + +Lord Acorn, hating personal trouble of all kinds, especially trouble +so disagreeable as this, betook himself--not to Blackheath, as +enjoined by his wife, but to the City. He would see Mr. Howard first, +and hear what his opinion was. Jumping out of the cab which had +conveyed him to Leadenhall Street, he jumped against Serjeant Mowham. + +"No good your going up," cried the serjeant. "Howard has left, and +Grubb seems to be nowhere today." + +"Have you heard about poor Charley?" asked Lord Acorn. + +"Of course I have; that has brought me here. Primerly came to my +chambers on other business, and told me what had happened. I came down +here at once to catch one of the partners--or both of them--and see if +there's anything to be done." + +"What can be done?" returned Lord Acorn. + +"Be shot if I know," said the serjeant. "It will be a serious thing +for Charley, mind you, if he does get committed for trial--as Sir +Turtle Kite has promised." + +"What an ill-conditioned, revengeful man that Sir Turtle Kite must +be!" + +"There you are wrong, my lord. He is just the contrary: one of the +sunniest-natured little men you can picture, and about as able upon +the bench as my old wig would be if you stuck it there. The newspapers +have been going in to him lately for his leniency, so I suppose he +thinks he must make an example of somebody. One of the papers had a +bantering article this morning, suggesting that Sir Turtle should open +a luncheon-room at the court, and treat the delinquents who appeared +before him to bottled stout and oysters. That article, I suspect, is +the cause of his turning crusty today. Look here," added the +serjeant, lowering his voice and catching hold of the other's +button-hole, "what is there at the bottom of all this matter? Who +was it that Charley made himself a scapegoat for? Do you know?" + +As it chanced, they were jostled just then by some one of the many +passers-by in the busy street--nearly pushed off the causeway. Lord +Acorn, forgetting his usual superlative equanimity, allowed himself to +be put out by it, and so evaded an answer. + +"Nobody does know, that I can find out," said the serjeant, returning +to the charge, and facing Lord Acorn, with whom he had long been on +intimate terms: "and Charley makes a mystery of it. I suspect it +was some one of those wild blades he has been hand-in-glove with +lately--and that he won't betray him." + +"Ah, yes, no doubt," carelessly assented Lord Acorn, his face wearing +a deeper tinge than ordinary. "I wonder where Howard is? Charley must +be saved." + +"It will be of no use your seeing Howard, Lord Acorn--except for any +odds and ends of information he might afford you. The affair is out of +his hands now." + +"But it can't be out of Mr. Grubb's!" + +"Indeed it is. It is in Sir Turtle Kite's." + +"Could one do any good with _him?_" + +Serjeant Mowham laughed. "I can't say, one way or the other. You might +try, perhaps. Don't say, though, that I recommended it." + +The peer smoothed his brow, smooth enough before to all appearance. +How often do these smiling brows hide a heavy load of perplexity +within! + +"As for me, I must be off," added the serjeant. "I've a consultation +on for five o'clock at my chambers, and I believe five has struck." + +He bustled away, leaving Lord Acorn in the crowd. Thought is +quick. That nobleman was saying to himself, "What if I _do_ see Sir +Turtle?--who knows but I might come over him by persuasion? Wonder +where he is to be found?" + +He glanced up and down Leadenhall Street, at its houses on this side +and on that, as if, haply, he might discern the name. During this +survey he found himself subjected to an increased amount of jostling, +and became aware that the clerks were pouring out of the offices of +Grubb and Howard. + +"Oh--ah," began Lord Acorn, addressing a young man who was nearly the +last, all his nonchalance of manner in full force again, "can you tell +me where Sir Turtle Kite is to be found?" + +"Sir Turtle Kite, sir?" replied the young clerk, civilly. "I +think--I'm not quite sure--but I think his place is somewhere down by +the river. Here--Aitcheson"--stopping an older clerk--"where is Sir +Turtle Kite's place? This gentleman is asking." + +"Tooley Street--forget the number--can't mistake it," replied the +other, who seemed in a great hurry to get away, and threw back the +words as he went. + +"Tooley Street," repeated Lord Acorn, by way of impressing the name on +his mind. "Some commercial stronghold, I apprehend. What business is +he?" + +"He's a tallow-merchant, sir." + +"Ah--thank you--a tallow-merchant," repeated his lordship, with a +deprecatory shrug of the shoulders at the objectionable word, tallow. +"Thank you very much." And the young man, who was of good breeding, +lifted his hat and walked away. + +Lord Acorn had as much notion in which direction he must look for +Tooley Street as he might have had in looking for the way to the North +Pole. Making another inquiry, this time of a policeman, the road was +pointed out to him, and the information given that it was "not far." +That, at least, was the policeman's opinion. + +So Lord Acorn, whose cab had been dismissed at first, and who liked +walking, for he was a lithe, active man for his age, at length reached +Tooley Street, and began a pilgrimage up and down its narrow confines, +which seemed to be choked up with cumbersome drays and trolleys. +Presently he discovered a huge pile of dark buildings, all along the +wide face of which was posted the name of the firm: "Turtle Kite, +Tanner, Rex, and Co." The goal at last! + +Wondering within himself how Sir Turtle Kite, or any other person +possessing rational instincts and ordinary lungs, could exist in such +an atmosphere of dirt and turmoil, Lord Acorn looked about for the +entrance. There was none to be seen: and he was beginning seriously to +speculate whether Turtle Kite, Tanner, Rex, and Co. entered the +building by means of a rope-ladder affixed to one of the little square +holes that served for windows, when a man, who had the appearance of a +porter, came out of a narrow, dark entry. + +"Is there any entrance to this building, my man?" + +"Entrance is up here, sir; waggon-entrance on t'other side." + +"Oh--ah--you belong to it, I perceive. Do you happen to know whether +Sir Turtle Kite is in?" + +"There's nobody in at all, sir; warehouses is shut for the evening," +returned the porter. "Sir Turtle don't come here much hisself now; he +leaves things mostly to Tanner and Rex. They'll both be here tomorrow +morning, sir. Watchman's coming on presently." + +"Ah, yes, no doubt," assented Lord Acorn, in his suave way. "Then Sir +Turtle does not live here, I presume." + +The porter checked a laugh at the notion. "Sir Turtle lives at +Brixton, sir. Leastways, it's between Brixton and Clapham. Rosemary +Lodge, sir--a rare beautiful place it is." + +Brixton now! To Lord Acorn's dismayed mind it seemed that he might +almost as well start for the moon; and for a few seconds he hesitated. +But--having undertaken this adventurous expedition--adventurous in +more ways than one--he must carry it through for his unhappy +daughter's sake. + +"Do you fancy Sir Turtle is likely to be at home now, at--ah, Rosemary +House--if I go there, my man?" + +"Most likely, sir. He is mostly at home earlier than this. Sir Turtle +is very fond of his garden and greenhouses, you see, and makes haste +home to 'em. He's got no wife nor child. But it's Rosemary Lodge, sir; +not Rosemary House." + +"Ah, yes, thank you--Rosemary Lodge," repeated his lordship, dropping +a shilling into the porter's hand, and hailing the first cab he met. + +"Rosemary Lodge, Brixton," said he to the driver. + +"Yes, sir. What part of Brixton?" + +"Don't know at all," said his lordship. "Never was at Brixton in my +life." + +"Brixton's a straggling sort of place, you see, sir. I might be +driving you about----" + +"It is between Brixton and Clapham," interrupted the earl. "Rosemary +Lodge: Sir Turtle Kite's." + +"Oh, come, the name's something," said the man, as he drove off. + +Rosemary Lodge was not difficult to find, once the locality was +reached. It was a large and very pretty white villa, painted glass +borders surrounding its windows, and it stood in the midst of a +spacious lawn dotted with beds of bright flowers. Walking round the +gravel-drive, Lord Acorn rang at the door, which was speedily opened +by a man in chocolate-coloured livery. + +"Is Sir Turtle Kite at home?" + +"Yes, sir; but he is at dinner; just sat down to it." + +"At dinner!" echoed Lord Acorn. "I want to see him very particularly." + +"Well, sir, Sir Turtle does not much like to be disturbed at his +dinner," hesitated the man. "Perhaps you could wait?--or call again?" + +"Look here," said Lord Acorn, hunting in his pocket for his card-case, +a bright idea seizing him, "you shall ask Sir Turtle to allow me to go +into the dining-room to him, and I'll say the few words I have to say +while he dines. I suppose he is alone! I won't disturb him from it. +Deuce take it!" muttered his lordship, finding he had not his +card-case with him. "You must take in my name: Lord Acorn." + +This colloquy took place in the hall. At that moment another +serving-man came out of the dining-room--his master wanted to know +what the stir was. Lord Acorn caught a glimpse of a well-spread table, +and of a round, good-humoured face above it. "Announce me," he rapidly +said: and the servant did so. + +"Lord Acorn." + +Up rose Sir Turtle, his beaming countenance looking its surprise, his +napkin tucked into his uppermost button-hole. Lord Acorn, a +fascinating mannered man as any living, entered upon his courtly +apology, his short explanation, and offered his hand. In two minutes +his lordship was seated at the dinner-table, regaling himself with +real turtle soup, served out of a silver tureen; he and his host +laughing and talking together as freely as though they were friends of +years. + +"It is so very good of you to ask me to partake of your dinner in this +impromptu way, Sir Turtle," remarked his lordship. "I should have lost +mine. We were to have dined--I and my wife--with the Duke of Dunford +this evening, but I could not have got back for it. As to my business, +the little matter I have come down to you to speak of, I won't trouble +you with that until dinner's over." + +"Quite right, my lord," said the knight. "Never unite eating and +business together when it can be avoided. As to your lordship's +partaking of my dinner, such as it is, the obligation lies on my side, +and I think it very condescending of you." + +Sir Turtle Kite, knight, alderman, and tallow-merchant, held the same +reverence for dukes and lords that many another Sir Turtle holds, and +his round face and his little bald head shone again with the honour of +having the Earl of Acorn as a guest. But he need not have disparaged +his dinner by saying "such as it is!" Lord Acorn had rarely sat down +to a better. The knight liked to dine well, and he had a rare good +cook. + +"As rich as Croesus, I know: these City men always are," thought Lord +Acorn. "And he is as genial a little man as one could wish to meet, +and not objectionable in any way," mentally added his lordship, as the +dinner went on. + +It was not until the wine was on the table, and the servants were +gone, that Lord Acorn entered upon and explained the subject which had +brought him. He spoke rather lightly, interspersing praises of the +wines, which for excellence matched the dishes. One bottle of choice +claret, brought up specially for his lordship to taste, was truly of +rare quality. + +"It would be so very dreadful a thing if this honest-minded, +chivalrous young fellow were to be compelled to stand a trial," +continued the earl, confidentially, as he sipped the claret. "Painful +to your generous heart, I am quite sure, Sir Turtle, as well as to +mine and Mr. Grubb's." + +"Of course it would, my lord." + +"And I thought I would come to you myself and privately explain. By +allowing this young fellow to be released tomorrow, you will be doing +a righteous and a generous act." + +Sir Turtle nodded. "But what a young fool the lad must be to have +allowed the world to think him guilty!" he remarked. "Who is it that +he is screening, do you say, my lord? Some unfortunate acquaintance of +his, who had got into a mess? Was the fellow also staying at Grubb's?" + +Lord Acorn coughed. "Yes: the culprit was staying in Grosvenor Square +at the time. He, the true criminal, is out of the law's reach now, and +can't be caught," added the Earl, drawing upon his invention. "And we +wish to keep his name quiet, and give him another chance. But that the +prisoner, who has been twice before you, is innocent as the day, I +give you my solemn word of honour. I hope you will release him, dear +Sir Turtle." + +"I will," assented Sir Turtle. "There's my hand upon it. And those +libellous newspapers may go and be--hanged." + +Perhaps the word "hanged" was not exactly the one Sir Turtle rapped +out in his zeal. But he was not before his own magisterial bench just +then. Lord Acorn clasped the hand warmly. He had taken quite a fancy +to the genial little alderman, and he felt inexpressibly grateful. + +"I do thank you; I thank you truly--for the young fellow's sake. What +claret this is, to be sure! Not equal to the port, you say? I have a +bin of very good port myself, and if you will dine with me tomorrow, +Sir Turtle, you shall taste it. Seven o'clock, sharp. Come a little +before it. I shall be glad to see you." + +Sir Turtle Kite, in his gratification, hardly knew whether he stood on +his head or his heels. He had never, to his recollection, been bidden +to an earl's dinner-table before, and was profuse in thanks. + +"I'll ask Grubb to join us," said Lord Acorn. "You know him?" + +"Ay, we all know Grubb. What a charming young man he is! Young +compared with you and me, my lord--especially with me," added Sir +Turtle. "So honourable, so good, and so prosperous!" + +Lord Acorn made quite an evening of it: looking at the greenhouses, +and the pinery, and the growing melons, with all the rest of the +horticultural treasures at Rosemary Lodge, and went back to town on +the top of a West-end omnibus. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. +INFATUATION. + + +Midnight. Pacing her chamber in her light dressing-robe, its open +sleeves thrown back from her restless hands, as if for coolness, was +the Lady Adela. Throughout the whole business she had never been so +terrified as now, had never before realized her dangerous position in +all its fulness. Her heart and her brow were alike beating with fever +heat. + +On the Monday evening, for we must go back a day, after receiving the +news that her husband would probably not be home, as conveyed to her +by note from Mr. Howard, Adela did not spend quite the solitary hours +she had anticipated. Grace came to her: and though rather given to +calling Grace an "old lecturer," Adela was heartily glad to see her +now. The evening's solitude had only intensified her fears, and dismal +doubts chased each other through her mind. + +Ever thoughtful and kind, though she did condemn Adela, Grace came to +bring her the tidings that Charles Cleveland would be discharged on +the morrow--for Lord Acorn, on his return from that afternoon's +interview with Mr. Howard, in Leadenhall Street, had spoken of the +release as an assured fact. The more bitter the condemnation by her +father and mother of Adela, and it really was bitter, the greater +need, thought Grace, that some one should stand by her: and here she +was, with her cheering news. And the relief it brought no pen can +express. Adela forgot her fears; ay, and her repentance. She became +her own light-headed self again, and provoked Grace by her saucy +words. In the great revulsion of feeling she almost forgot her +trouble; nay, resented it. + +"What a shame!--to frighten me as papa and mamma did this afternoon! I +thought old Howard would not be quite a bear; and I knew my husband +had all power in his hand--if he chose to exercise it." + +"Any way, Adela, he has exercised it. You have a husband in a +thousand. I do hope you will show your gratitude by behaving to him +well in future." + +"I dare say! I did think of--what do you suppose I thought of doing, +Gracie? That if he proved obdurate, as papa hinted, I would win him +over by saying, 'Let us kiss and be friends.'" + +"If you could have so won him." + +"If!" retorted Adela, a mocking smile on her pretty lips. "You do +think he yet cares for me a little, Gracie; but you do not know how +much. I believe--now don't you start away at my irreverence!--that he +loves me better than Heaven. I shall not do it now." + +"Do what?" asked Grace. + +"Kiss and be friends. Neither the one nor the other. I shall abuse him +instead; reproach him for having stood out so long about that poor +wretched Charley: and I shall hold him at arm's-length, as before. The +time has not come for me to be reconciled to _him_." + +"You do not mean it, Adela! You cannot be so wicked." + +"Not mean it! You will see. So will he. Tra-la-la-la! Oh, what a +horrible nightmare it has been!--and what a mercy to awaken from it!" + +She laid hold of her pretty gold-sprigged muslin dress with both +hands; she had not changed it; and waltzed across the room and back +again. Grace wondered whether she could be growing really heartless; +she was not born so: but of course it must be a glad relief. + +The old proverb, "when the devil was sick," no doubt so well known to +the reader that it need not be quoted, is exemplified very often +indeed in our everyday life. With the removal of the danger, Adela no +longer remembered it had been there, only too willingly did she thrust +it away from her. She passed a good night, and the next day was seen +driving gaily in the Park and elsewhere with her friend the young Lady +Cust--who was just as frivolous as herself. + +Evening came: Tuesday evening, please remember. Mr. Grubb did not come +home: neither had Adela heard from him: she supposed him to be still +at Blackheath, and sat down to dinner alone. She wondered whither +Charley had betaken himself off on his release: and whether he would +be likely to call upon her. She hoped not: her cheeks would take a +tinge of shame at facing him. Suppose he were to come in that evening! + +Charley did not come. But Frances Chenevix did. Frances, very +downright, very outspoken, had been honestly indignant with Adela for +the part she had played, she had not scrupled to tell her so, and they +had quarrelled. Therefore Adela was not much pleased to see her. She +found that Frances had been dining at home, and had ordered the +carriage round here on her way back to Lady Sarah Hope's. It was about +nine o'clock. + +"Is your husband at home?" she inquired of Adela, without any +circumlocution, when she entered the drawing-room. + +"No. He has not been home since yesterday morning. I expect he is at +Blackheath with that wavering old mother of his, dying today and well +tomorrow," listlessly added Adela. + +"Had he been at home I should have sent him round to the mother and +Grace; they are so frightfully uneasy." + +"The mother?" repeated Adela. "Is she back already from the +Dunfords'?" + +"She has not been to the Dunfords'," said Frances. "I suppose you know +of the dreadful turn affairs have taken with Charles Cleveland?" + +Something like a drop of iced water seemed to trickle down Adela's +back. "I know nothing--I have heard nothing," she gasped. "Is Charles +not set at liberty?" + +"Good gracious, no! And he is not going to be. The city magistrates +won't do it; they will commit him for trial." + +It was as if a whole pailful of cold water were pouring down now. "Oh, +Frances, it cannot be true!" + +"It is too true. Mr. Howard wrote this afternoon to tell papa that +Charles was remanded back to prison, and would be committed in the +morning. Papa went off at once to see about it, and mamma sent an +excuse to the Dunfords. I was to have dined quietly with Grace and +Mary this evening; and I heard all this when I arrived." + +"And--is papa not back yet?" again gasped Adela. + +"No; and mamma can hardly contain herself for uneasiness. For, of +course, you see what this implies?" + +Adela was not sure whether she saw it or not. She only gazed at her +sister. + +"It means that either Charles must suffer, or you, Adela, so far as +can be gathered from present aspects. And the question at home is--can +they allow him to suffer, even if he be willing, and the truth does +not transpire in other ways?" + +"To--suffer?" hesitated Adela. + +"To stand his trial." + +"Why does not Mr. Grubb stop all this?" angrily flashed Adela, in her +sick tremor. + +"Mr. Grubb would no doubt be only too glad to do it--and Mr. Howard +also would be now, but it is out of their hands. Once a magistrate +turns adverse, it is all up. Charley's lawyer impressed upon the +magistrate, one Sir Turtle Kite, that his client was not the +individual who was guilty: very well, said Sir Turtle, bring forward +the individual who was guilty, and he would release Charley; not +before. Adela, we have not seen the mother cry often, but she sobbed +tonight." + +Suddenly, violently, almost as though she had caught the infection +from the words, Adela burst into a storm of sobs. The revulsion from +terror to ease had told upon her feelings the previous night, but not +as that of ease to terror was telling this. What now of her boastful, +saucy avowals to Grace? + +Leaving her sister to digest the ill-starred news, Frances departed; +she could not keep the carriage longer, as it was wanted by Lady +Sarah. Adela sat up till past eleven, and then, shivering inwardly, +went to her room, but she was too uneasy to go to bed. Dismissing her +maid, she put on a dressing-gown--as was told at the beginning of the +chapter--and so prepared to pass the wretched night. Now pacing the +carpet in an agony, now gazing eagerly from the open window at every +cab that rattled across the square, lest happily it might bring her +husband. She could see no refuge anywhere but in him. + +The intelligent reader has of course discerned that it was on this +same evening Lord Acorn was at Rosemary Lodge, making things right +with Sir Turtle Kite. About eleven o'clock the earl got home, bringing +with him his glad tidings. Lady Acorn, relieved of her fears, took up +her temper again, and was more wrathfully bitter against Adela than +ever. But Adela knew nothing of all this. + +With the morning, Wednesday, Sir Turtle Kite appeared on the +magisterial bench, and the prisoner, Charles Cleveland, was brought +before him. As before, the proceedings were heard in private. Mr. +Grubb was present; had come up specially from Blackheath. He assured +Sir Turtle that the prisoner was wholly innocent, had been made the +unconscious dupe of another: upon which Sir Turtle, in a learned +speech that even his own legal clerk could make neither head nor tail +of, discharged the prisoner, and graciously informed him he left the +court "without a stain upon his character." + +Charles looked half-dazed amidst the sea of faces around him: he made +his way to Mr. Grubb. "I thank you with my whole heart, sir," he +whispered deprecatingly. "I shall never forget your kindness." + +"Let it be a warning to you for all your future life," was the grave, +kind answer. + +The question flashed through Charley's mind--where was he to go? That +he had forfeited his post at Grubb and Howard's, and his residence in +Mr. Grubb's house, went without saying. At that moment Lord Acorn +advanced from some dark region of the outer passage. + +"You are going down to Netherleigh this afternoon with your father, +Charles," said he. "But you can come home with me first and get some +lunch. Wait a minute. I want to speak to Mr. Grubb." + +Mr. Grubb appeared to have vanished. Lord Acorn could not see him +anywhere. He wrote a line in pencil, asking him to dine with him that +day at seven o'clock, sent it to Leadenhall Street, and got into a cab +with Charley. + +"Oh," said the Countess of Acorn, when she saw the ex-prisoner arrive, +"so you _are_ here, young man! It is more than I expected." + +"And more than I did--since yesterday," confessed he. + +"Pray what name do you give to that devoted chivalry of yours, +Charley?--the taking of another's sins upon your own shoulders?" +whispered Frances Chenevix, who happened to be at her father's. In +fact, Colonel Hope and Lady Sarah, outwardly anxious, and inwardly +scandalized at the whole affair, beginning with Adela and ending with +Charley, had despatched her to Chenevix House for any news there might +be. + +"I don't know," answered Charley. "Perhaps you might call it +infatuation." + +"That was just it," nodded Frances. "Don't you go and be an idiot +again. _That_ is my mother's best name for you." + +Charles nodded assentingly. He saw the past in its true light now. He +was a changed man. His confinement and reflections in prison, combined +with the prospect of being condemned as a felon, from which he had +then seen no chance of escape except by his own confession, which he +had persistently resolved not to make, had added years to his +experience in life. He was a light-hearted, light-headed boy when he +entered Newgate; he came out of it older and graver than his years. + +More severely than for aught else did he blame himself for having +responded in ever so slight a degree to the ridiculous flirtation +commenced by Lady Adela; and for having fallen into worshipping her +almost as he might have worshipped an angel; and he thanked God in his +heart, now, that he had never been betrayed into offering her a +disrespectful look or word. She belonged to her husband; not to him; +and to be disloyal to either of them Charley would have regarded as +the most consummate folly or sin. + +Was he cured of that infatuation? Ay, he was. The heartless conduct of +Lady Adela, in leaving him to bear the brunt of the crime and the +disgrace that came of it, without giving heed or aid, had helped to +cure him. He had not wished that she should sacrifice her good name to +save his, though the whole sin lay with her; but he did think she +might have offered him one little word of sympathy. He lay languishing +within the walls of that awful prison for her sake, and she had never +conveyed to him, by note or message, so much as the intimation, I am +sorry for you. Charles Cleveland could not know that Adela had been +afraid to do it; afraid lest the smallest notice on her part should +lead to the betrayal of herself. What she would have done, what they +would all have done, had he really been committed to take his trial, +she does not know to this day. However, to him her silence had +appeared to be heartless indifference; and that, combined with his own +danger and his prolonged reflection, had served to change and cure +him. + +"I am very thankful, Charles," breathed Grace, and the tears stood in +her eyes as she took his hand. "No one knows what trouble this has +been to me." + +"I have more cause to be thankful than you, Grace; and I think I am," +he answered. "It has been to me a life's lesson." + +"Ay. You will not fall into mischief again, Charley?" she said, almost +entreatingly. "You will not lose your wits for a married woman, as you +did for Adela?" + +"If ever again I get trapped by any woman, married or single, all +courtly smiles one day, when she wants to amuse herself and serve her +turn, and all careless neglect the next, like a confounded +weathercock, I'll give you leave to transport me to a penal settlement +in earnest," was Charley's wrathful interruption, the sense of his +wrongs pressing upon him sorely. "But let me thank _you_, Grace," he +added, his tone changing to one of deep feeling, "for all your care +and concern for me." + +Charles could not eat any lunch, though the table was well spread. In +spite of his release from the great danger, he was altogether +miserable. Lady Acorn talked at him; Lady Frances, taking matters +lightly, after her custom, joked and laughed, and handed him all the +sweets upon the table, one dish after another. It was all one to +Charley: and perhaps he felt that he merited Lady Acorn's reproaches +more than he did the offered sweets. He had not yet seen his father +and his stepmother. For the past two or three days they had been +staying with their relative, the Earl of Cleveland; a confirmed +invalid, who lived in seclusion a few miles out of London. + +They all departed for Netherleigh in the course of the afternoon: +the Rector, Lady Mary and the baby; Charles joining them at the +railway-station. What was to become of him in future? It was a +question he seriously put to himself. Surely he had bought experience, +if any young man ever had in this world; an experience that would +leave behind it its lasting and bitter pain. + +Seven o'clock--nay, some fifteen minutes before it--brought Sir Turtle +Kite to the Earl of Acorn's. Sir Turtle enjoyed the visit and the +dinner immensely--though he frankly avowed his opinion that his own +port wine was the best. For once the earl's wife made herself +gracious; tart though she might be at other times, she knew something +of gratitude; and Grace, who made the fourth at table, could not keep +her heart's thankfulness out of her manner--for where should they all +have been without Sir Turtle? + +But Mr. Grubb did not make his appearance. Neither had Lord Acorn +heard from him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. +SEPARATION. + + +Pacing his library at Chenevix House, in almost the same perturbation +that was tormenting his mind when we first met him in this history, +strode the Earl of Acorn. The cause of disquiet was not the same. Then +it had arisen from a want of cash; now it was the trouble connected +with his daughter Adela. + +By the mantelpiece, erect and noble as ever, but with a countenance +full of pain, stood Mr. Grubb. He could scarcely speak without +betraying his emotion. Lord Acorn was agitated also--which was a great +deal to say of _him_. + +Mr. Grubb had come this morning to inform Lord Acorn of the separation +he had resolved upon; and to submit its terms for his approval. Never, +he said, would he live with his wife again. After what had passed +recently, and after the years of penance he had endured with her, he +could only put her away from him. + +"And, egad, it is what I should do myself," thought the earl. But he +did not say so. He said just the opposite. + +"_Must_ this be, Grubb? Cannot she and you make it up--or something?" + +"Never again," was the decisive answer. "Could you, looking at matters +impartially, _wish_ me to do it? Though, as her father, perhaps it is +too much to expect you to exercise an impartial judgment," +considerately added Mr. Grubb. + +"I don't excuse her; mind that, Grubb. And I acknowledge--I'll be shot +if I can help saying it--that some men would have put her away before +this. She has behaved ill to you; no doubt of it; but she is young and +light-headed, and will gain sense with time. Can't there be some +modification?" + +"Not any," spoke Mr. Grubb. "The pain this decision has caused me no +one will ever know, but there has not been one moment's wavering in my +mind as regards its absolute necessity. Lord Acorn, I think you cannot +blame me. Imagine yourself in my place, and then see whether you do." + +"I don't, I don't, looking at it from your point of view," said the +earl. "I am thinking of Adela, and the blow it will be to her." + +"A blow?--to be rid of me? Surely not. It is what she has been wishing +for years." + +"In talk. Girls will talk--silly minxes! To be put away by you, Grubb, +and from her home, is quite another thing." + +"She must care for my home as little as she cares for me. She has +already taken the initiative, and left it." + +Lord Acorn wheeled round on his heel in surprise. "Left your home, +Grubb? What do you mean?" + +Mr. Grubb looked surprised in his turn. "Did you not know it? Is she +not here?" + +"She is certainly not here, and I did not know it. Confound these +silly women! She has run away, I suppose, to hide herself from----" + +"From the law," Lord Acorn would have said; but he did not end the +sentence. He asked Mr. Grubb when she went, and how, and if he had any +idea where she was. Mr. Grubb had not any idea, and related all he +knew; he had supposed her to be at Chenevix House. + +Heaven alone knew, or ever would know, the terrible shock, the blow +the discovery of his wife's treachery brought to Mr. Grubb. That she +should have been capable of robbing him, of forging his name and his +partner's, of obtaining the money, all in so imprudent, so barefaced a +manner, and of using it to pay her gaming debts, would alone have +filled him with a dismay to shrink from. But that she should have +allowed the guilt and the punishment to fall upon another; and that +she should have impudently denied her own guilt to himself, and flung +back with scorn his entreaties for her confidence and the offer he +made to shield her in all tenderness, shook his soul to the centre. + +From the hour of his enlightenment he was a changed man. That which +the insults, the scorn of years, had failed to effect on his heart, +was accomplished now. His consideration for his wife had turned to +sternness; his love to righteous anger. Never again would he bear her +contumely; no longer should his home be hers. This most fatal action +of hers--the crime she had committed, and the innocent tool she had +made of Charles Cleveland--afforded Mr. Grubb the justification for +extreme measures, which he might otherwise have lacked. During the +hours he spent by his mother's sick-bed, he formed and matured his +plans. Not with Lady Adela would he enter on the negotiations for +their separation, but with her father and mother. She must return to +them; must live under their protection and guidance, as she did before +her marriage; she was not yet old enough or wise enough to be trusted +alone. + +And Mr. Grubb came up from Blackheath to make known his decision to +Lord Acorn. It was the morning following the day of Charles's release +and of Sir Turtle Kite's dinner at Chenevix House. + +Mrs. Lynn's illness had been a dangerous one. For many hours it had +not been known whether she would live or die. On the Tuesday evening, +Mr. Howard went to Blackheath, carrying with him the tidings of the +obduracy of Sir Turtle Kite: in consequence of which, Mr. Grubb came +up on the Wednesday to attend the examination. His mother was then a +shade better, but he returned to her the instant the examination was +over and Charles released. + +On the Thursday morning, Mr. Grubb again came up, as just stated, to +confer with Lord Acorn. On his way he called at his own home in +Grosvenor Square, intending to acquaint his wife with his +decision--that they must separate--but not to enter into details with +her. Hilson looked very glad to see his master, and feelingly inquired +after Mrs. Lynn. Better, answered Mr. Grubb; she might recover now. + +"Ask Lady Adela if she will be good enough to come to me here," he +added to the butler, as he turned into his library. + +"Her ladyship is not at home, sir," promptly replied Hilson. + +"Not at home!" and Mr. Grubb could not altogether keep his surprise +out of his tone. "She has gone out early." + +"My lady left home yesterday morning, sir, before breakfast. Darvy, I +believe, carried a cup of tea to her room." + +"But she returned, I suppose?" + +"No, sir, not since." + +"Where is her ladyship gone? Do you know?" + +"Not at all, sir. Darvy was mysterious over it. She heard her lady say +this was no longer any home for her; she told me that much. John was +sent to fetch a cab, and her ladyship and Darvy went away in it, with +a carpet bag." + +"She must be at Lord Acorn's," remarked Mr. Grubb; a conclusion he had +rapidly come to. Hilson agreed with it. + +"No doubt, sir. My lady may have felt lonely here without you." + +Mr. Grubb went straight to Chenevix House. Not to see Adela, but to +enter on his business with Lord Acorn. And then, as you find, he +learnt that she was not there. + +"Stay a moment," said Lord Acorn, a recollection occurring to him. +"Adela was at Colonel Hope's yesterday: I remember Frances said so. +She must be staying there. That's it." + +"Probably so," was Mr. Grubb's cold assent. "She has, I say, taken the +initiative in the matter." + +He sat down as he spoke, motioning Lord Acorn to the seat on the other +side of the small table between them, and took a paper from his +pocketbook on which he had pencilled a few notes, as to the terms of +separation. + +Terms that were wonderfully liberal in their pecuniary aspect. Lord +Acorn heard the amount of the sum he proposed to allow his wife +annually with a thrill of generous admiration. Oh, what a fool Adela +has been! thought he. Why could she not have made herself a loving +helpmeet to this noble-minded man, whose every instinct is good and +great? + +"Are you satisfied with the amount, Lord Acorn?" + +"Quite." + +"It will be paid to you; not to herself," continued Mr. Grubb. "As a +matter of course, her home must be with you and her mother. The +allowance that you may deem suitable for herself personally you will +be good enough to pay to her out of it, as you and she may arrange. I +do not interfere with details. She had better have her own separate +carriage and horses." + +Lord Acorn nodded in silence. He knew why he was to be the recipient +of the income, instead of Adela--that she might not have the means at +her disposal to lose herself in future at Lady Sanely's. _That_ had +been the leading source of this last dangerous episode. + +"I hope you will take care of her," cried Mr. Grubb, as he rose, and +pressed Lord Acorn's hand in parting. + +"To the best of my power. Ah, Grubb I--I can't grumble, of course; no, +neither at the step nor the proposed arrangements--but, if you _could_ +but see your way to condone the past; to receive her back!" + +"Never again," was the quiet answer. "Darvy can attend to the removal +of her things from Grosvenor Square." + +Mr. Grubb walked back to his own home with slow and thoughtful steps, +his heart filled with the bitterness of disappointed hopes. It is no +light matter for a man to part for ever with the wife of his bosom; to +say to her, "Your road lies that way from henceforth; mine this." +Especially a wife who had been loved as Francis Grubb had loved his. + +That Adela had run away from his home, abandoned it and him, he +entertained not the slightest doubt. She had been tacitly +demonstrating to him for years that she wished to be rid of +him--indeed, not always tacitly--and now she had accomplished it. This +impression did not lead to Mr. Grubb's decision to put her away; it +had, and could have had, nothing to do with that: but it tended to +deaden any small regret he may have felt. + +It was a wrong impression, however. Lady Adela had not run away from +Grosvenor Square to be quit of her husband; she had left it under +fear. + +When Frances Chenevix quitted her the night already told of, Tuesday, +leaving her with the dread news that the magistrates would not release +Charley, unless they produced the true culprit, herself, in his stead, +Adela's worst fears were aroused. She passed a wretched night, now +pacing her chamber, now tossing on her sleepless bed. She saw the +matter now in its true colours, all its deadly peril, its shameful +sin. Throwing herself on her knees, she raised her hands in prayerful +agony, beseeching the Most High to spare them both--herself from +exposure, the innocent young fellow, who had been made her tool, from +punishment--and she took a solemn oath never again to be tempted to +play. + +Whether the prayer soothed her spirit, or whether the natural reaction +that follows upon violent emotion set in, certain it was that a sort +of calm stole over Adela. Her head lay on the bed, her arms were +outstretched, and by-and-by she slept. If, indeed, it could be called +sleep. + +For she still seemed to be conscious of the peril that awaited her and +a sort of dream, that was half reality, began weaving its threads in +her brain. + +She thought she was in that, her own chamber, and kneeling down by the +bed, as she was, in fact, kneeling. She seemed to be endeavouring to +hide and could not. Suddenly, a faint noise arose in the street, and +she appeared to rise from her knees, and go to the window to peep out. +There she saw two fierce-looking men, whom she knew instinctively to +be officers of justice come to apprehend her, mounted on horses. Each +horse had a red lantern fixed above its head, from which bright red +rays radiated on all sides. As she looked, the rays flashed upwards +and discovered her. "There she is!" called out a voice that she knew +to be Charles Cleveland's, and in the fright and horror she awoke. Her +whole frame shook with terror, and several minutes passed before she +could understand that it was not reality. + +The peril existed, all too surely. What if Charles, to save himself, +avowed the truth, that it was she who was guilty, and was already +piloting those dread officers of justice to her house? Nay, and if he +did not avow it, others must. How could she, she herself, allow him to +stand in her place to suffer for her, now that it had come to this? + +The dream had struck to her nerves. Ensuing upon the natural fear, it +had created a perfect terror. The horrible red lights seemed yet to +flash upon her face: and a lively dread set in that the officers might +be, there and then, on their way westward, to secure her. This fear +tormented her throughout the rest of the livelong night; and by the +morning it had grown into a desperate belief, a reality, a living +agony. There was only one step that could save her--flight. + +With the first sounds of stir in the house, she rang for Darvy. That +damsel, fearing illness, threw on a few garments, and ran to her +lady's room. To her intense astonishment, there stood Lady Adela, up +and dressed, her eyes wild and her cheeks hectic. + +"I want to go away somewhere, Darvy," she said, her lively imagination +picturing to herself, with increased certainty and increased terror, +the capturing officers drawing nearer and nearer. "Will you pack up a +few things, and have a cab called?" + +"Name o' goodness!" uttered Darvy, who was three-parts Welsh, and was +privately wondering whether her lady had gone suddenly demented. "And +what's it all for, my lady?--and where is it you want to go?" + +"Anywhere; this house is no longer a home for me. At least--there, +don't stand staring, but do as I tell you," broke off Lady Adela, +saying anything that came uppermost in her perplexity and fear. "Put +up a few things for me in haste, and get a cab." + +"Am I to attend you, my lady?" asked the bewildered woman. + +"No--yes--no. Yes, perhaps you had better," finally decided Lady +Adela, in grievous uncertainty. "Don't lose a moment." + +Darvy obeyed orders, believing nevertheless that somebody's head was +turned. She got herself ready, packed a carpet bag, had the thought to +take her lady a cup of tea, exchanging a little private conference +with her crony, the butler, while she made it, and ordered the cab. +Then she and Lady Adela came down and entered it, neither of them +having the slightest notion for what quarter of the wide world she was +bound. + +"Where to?" asked John of Darvy, as she followed her mistress into the +cab. + +"Where to, my lady?" demanded Darvy, in turn. "Anywhere. Tell him to +drive on," responded Lady Adela. + +"Tell him to drive straight on," said Darvy to John. + +"Where can I go?--where shall I be safe?" thought Adela to herself, as +they went along. "I wonder--I wonder if Sarah would take me in?" +came the next thought. "They"--the "they" applying to the legal +thief-catchers--"would never think of looking for me there. Sarah is +angry with me, I know, but she won't refuse to hide me. Darvy, direct +the man to Colonel Hope's." + +This last sensible injunction was a wonderful relief to Darvy's +troubled mind. And to Colonel Hope's they went. + +Lady Sarah "took her in," and Adela hid herself away in the bedroom of +her sister Frances. Truth to say, they were in much anxiety +themselves, the colonel included, as to what trouble and exposure +might not be falling upon Adela. They did not refuse to shelter her, +but they let her know tacitly how utterly they condemned her conduct. +Lady Sarah was coldly distant in manner; the colonel would not see her +at all. + +Before the day was over--it was in the afternoon--Grace came to them +with the truth--that Charles Cleveland was released and had gone to +Netherleigh. Adela, perhaps not altogether entirely reassured about +herself, said she would stay at the colonel's another night, if +permitted: and she did so. + +That was the explanation of Adela's absence from home. She had left +the house in fear; not voluntarily to quit it or her husband. Her +husband, however, not knowing this, took the opposite view, and dwelt +upon it as he walked away from Lord Acorn's in the summer sun. Not +that, one way or the other, it would make any difference to him. + +Entering his house, Mr. Grubb went straight upstairs to his +dressing-room, intending to change the coat he wore for a lighter one. +The bedroom door came first. He opened that, intending to pass across +it, when he came face to face with his wife. + +Just for a moment he was taken by surprise, having supposed the room +to be empty. She had returned from Lady Sarah's, and was standing at +the dressing-glass, doing something to her hair, her bonnet evidently +just taken off. She wore a quiet dress of black silk--the one she had +gone away in. + +That frequent saying, "the devil was sick," was alluded to a few +pages back. It might again be quoted. Lady Adela, when she thought the +trouble had not passed and her heart was softened, had mentally +rehearsed once more a little scene of tenderness, to be enacted when +she next met her husband. She met him now; and she turned back to the +looking-glass without speaking a word. + +She now knew that the danger was over; over for good. Charley was +discharged, scathless; her own name had been kept silent and +sacred--and there was an end of it. + +She turned back to the glass, after looking round to see who it was +that had come in, saying not a word. Possibly she anticipated a +lecture, and deemed it the wisest plan to keep silent--who knew? Not +Mr. Grubb. She gave him neither word nor smile, neither tear nor kiss. + +He walked across the room, and stood at the window nearest the +dressing-table, turning to face her. Could she not have said +good-morning?--could she not have asked him how he had been these +three days, and what the news was from Blackheath? She appeared to be +too much occupied with her lovely hair. + +"I must request you to give me your attention for a few minutes, Lady +Adela." + +There was something in the proud, distant tone, in the formality of +the address, that caused her to glance at him quickly. She did not +like his face. It was stern, impassive, as she had never before seen +it. + +"Yes," she answered, quite timidly. + +In the same cold tone, with the same unbending countenance, Mr. Grubb +in a few concise words informed her of the resolution he had taken. He +could never allow her to inhabit the same house with himself again; +her father and mother would receive her back in her maiden home. The +arrangements connected with this step had been settled between himself +and Lord Acorn: and he should be glad if she made it convenient to +leave Grosvenor Square that day. + +Intense astonishment, gradually giving place to dismay, kept her +silent. The comb dropped from her hand. "Anything but this," beat the +refrain in her heart; "anything but this." For Lady Adela, so alive to +the good opinion of the world, would almost rather have preferred +death than that she should be publicly put away by her husband. + +"You have no right to do this," she stammered, her face ashy pale. + +"No right! After what has passed? Ask your father whether I possess +the right, or not," he added, his voice stern with indignation. "But +for my clemency, you might have taken the place from which Charles +Cleveland has been released." + +"Is that the reason?" she asked. + +"It has afforded the justification for the step. Following on the +course of treatment you have dealt out to me for years----" + +"I have been very wrong," she interrupted. "I meant to have told you +so. I have not behaved as--as--I ought to behave for a long while; I +acknowledge it. Won't you forgive me?" + +"No," he answered--and his voice had no relenting in it. + +"I will try and do better; I will indeed," she reiterated: not daring +now to offer the caresses her imagination had planned out. "Oh, you +must forgive me; you must not put me away!" + +"Lady Adela, but a few days ago, it was my turn to make supplication +to you; I did so more than once. I told you I would protect, forgive, +shield you. I prayed you, almost as solemnly as I pray to Heaven, to +trust me--your husband--_as you wished it to be well with us in our +future life_. Do you remember how you met that prayer?--how you +answered me?" + +Yes, she did. And her face flushed painfully at the remembrance. + +"As you rejected me, so must I reject you." + +"Not to separation!" + +"Separation will be only too welcome to you. Have you not been telling +me as much for years?" + +"But not in earnest; not to mean it really. I will give up play--I +have given it up; believe that. A man may not reject his wife," she +continued in agitation. + +"He may--when he has sufficient reason for it. Look at the wife you +have been to me; the shameful treatment you have persistently dealt to +me. I speak not now of this recent act of disgrace, by which you +hazarded your own good name and mine--I will not trust myself to speak +of it--but of the past. Few men would have borne with you as I have +borne. I loved you with a true and tender love: how have you repaid +me?" + +"Let us start afresh," she said, imploringly, putting up her hands. +Indeed this was a most terrible moment for her. + +"It may not be," he coldly rejoined. "My resolution has been +deliberately taken, and I cannot change it upon impulse." + +"I had meant to pray you to forgive me--for this and all the past--I +had indeed. I had meant to say that I would be different--would try to +love you." + +"Too late." + +"In a little while, then," she panted, her face working with emotion, +tears starting to her eyes. "You will take me back later! In a week or +two." + +"Neither now nor later. My feelings were long, long outraged, and I +bore with you, hoping for better things. But in this last fearful act, +and more especially in the circumstances attending it, you have broken +all allegiance, you have deliberately thrown off my protection. Lady +Adela, I shall never live under the same roof with you again." + +She laid her hand upon her palpitating heart. He crossed the room with +the last words, and quietly left it. A faint cry of distress seemed to +be sounding in his ear: "Mercy! mercy" as he closed the door. +Descending the stairs with a deliberate step, he caught up his hat in +the hall, and went out. And Adela, the usually indifferent, fell to +the ground in a storm of anguished tears. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. +ON THE WAY FROM BLACKHEATH. + + +Strolling hither and thither, just as his steps led him, for in truth +he had no purpose just then, so intense was his mental distress, Mr. +Grubb found himself somehow in Jermyn Street. He was passing the +Cavendish Hotel, his eyes nowhere, when a hand was laid upon his arm. +A little lady in a close bonnet and black veil, standing at the hotel +entrance, had arrested him. + +"Were you going to pass me, Francis Grubb?" + +"Miss Upton!" he exclaimed, coming with an effort, out of his +wilderness, and clasping her offered hand. "I did not see you; I was +buried in thought." + +"In deep thought, as it seemed to me," rejoined Miss Upton, regarding +his face with a meaning look. "Come upstairs to my sitting-room." + +"Are you staying here?" he asked. + +"Only until tomorrow afternoon. I came from home this morning. Sit +down and take lunch with me," she added, removing her bonnet. "It is +ready, you perceive. I told them to have it on the table by one +o'clock. They are punctual, and so am I." + +"You have been out?" + +"Only to Chenevix House. I came up on business of my own, but I wanted +to see the Acorns, so I drove there at once, after reporting myself +here to the hotel people, to whom I wrote yesterday to secure my +rooms. No meat! Why, what do you live upon?" + +Something like a faint smile parted his lips. "Thank you--no, not +today. I have no appetite." + +"_Try_," she kindly whispered, leaning forward and laying her hand for +a moment upon his. "Other men have had to bear as much before you." + +So, then, she knew it! A vivid red dyed his brow. How painful it was, +this allusion to it, even from her. + +"You have heard it?" he breathed. + +"I heard of the trouble about the cheque last week from the Rector, +during a flying visit he had to pay Netherleigh. The man was in +terrible distress, hardly knowing whether his son was guilty or not +guilty. A little further news dropped out later, and yesterday Charles +was brought home by his father and stepmother; his name cleared, but +some one else's mentioned." + +She paused a moment. Mr. Grubb said nothing. + +"When I reached Lady Acorn's this morning, she was alone--and in a +state, not of temper, but of real, genuine distress," continued Miss +Upton. "I told her I had come to hear the whole truth about this +miserable business, and she told me all, from beginning to end. She is +full of wrath and bitterness: and who can wonder?" + +"Against me?" + +"Against you! No. Against Adela. She did not spare her daughter in the +recital. She said that Mr. Grubb--you--were at that moment with Lord +Acorn, negotiating, she believed, the articles of a separation. Was it +so?" + +"Yes. They are arranged." + +"Alas! I have long foreseen that it might come to it. Before there was +any notion of this last terrible offence of hers, I thought the day of +retribution must surely come, unless she mended her ways. But we will +say no more, now. Adela is my god-daughter, and I will do what I can +for her, though I would rather have seen her in her grave." + +He lifted his eyes to the earnest face. + +"I would, indeed. Far rather would I have seen her in her grave than +what she is--a heartless woman. You have been to her a husband in a +thousand, and this is how she has requited you. And now, tell me--if +you don't mind telling tales out of school--how Acorn is going on: for +I expect you know. Fighting shy of his debts, as usual?" + +In spite of the mental pain that pressed so heavily upon him, Mr. +Grubb could not forbear a smile, her tone was so quaint. "Just now his +lordship is flourishing," replied he, his voice assuming a lightness +he did not feel. "He had a slice of luck at the Derby: won, it is +said, between ten and twelve thousand pounds." + +Miss Upton lifted her hands. "What a sum of money to win, or to lose! +He might have lost it, I suppose, as easily as gained it: and then +where would he have been? How can men do these things lightly? How +much does he owe you?" + +The question was put abruptly. A faint colour tinged Mr. Grubb's face. +He hesitated. + +"You do not care to say," quickly spoke Miss Upton. "Quite right of +you, no doubt. I conclude you feel pretty secure, having taken his +bonds on Court Netherleigh--whenever it shall fall in." + +"I have not taken any bonds on Court Netherleigh. Believe that, Miss +Upton." + +"Do you mean to say that he has not offered you bonds on it, as +security for your loans?" + +"He has offered them over and over again. But I have never taken them. +In the first place, it would have been no true security. Court +Netherleigh is not his, and there exists, of course, a possibility +that it may never be his: for he--is older than its present +possessor," concluded Mr. Grubb, his eyes meeting Miss Upton's. "No; +for what I have lent Lord Acorn, I possess no security beyond his +acknowledgment." + +"Ah," shortly commented Miss Upton. "I told you once, you know, that +you were safe in letting him borrow money on the Netherleigh estate. +But I did not mean to imply that I sanctioned your doing so; certainly +not to help him to any extent." + +"I have not helped him to any great extent. At least, not to more than +I can afford to lose with equanimity. I have never advanced to him a +sum, large or small, but in the full consciousness that it would +probably never be returned." + +Miss Upton nodded her approval, and passed to another topic. "Will you +tell me how your mother is?" she asked. "I hear she is so ill as to be +in danger, and that you have been afraid to leave her." + +"She was in danger three or four days ago, and I was sent for in +haste. But the danger has passed, and she is tolerably well +again--excepting for weakness. My mother has had several of these +attacks now, and it seems to me, that each one is more severe than the +last. They are connected with the heart." + +"Ay, we must all have some affliction or other as we draw near to the +close of life; some reminder, more or less ominous in itself, that God +will soon be calling us to that better world where there is neither +sickness nor death," she remarked, dreamily. "She is going--and I am +going--and yet----" + +"Not you, surely, dear Miss Upton!" he interrupted, struck with the +words. + +She looked at him for a moment, saw his concern, and smiled. + +"Are we not all going?" she asked--"some sooner, some later. And yet, +I was about to say, what a short time ago it seems since I and +Catherine Grant were girls together: dear friends and companions! How +much I should like to see her!" + +"Would you really like to do so? Would you care to go to Blackheath?" + +"I should. But I don't know how to get there. When one comes to be +close upon sixty years of age, and not strong, these short railway +journeys try one mightily. I know they try me." + +"Dear Miss Upton, you can go to Blackheath without the slightest +exertion or trouble. My carriage will take you to my mother's door, +and bring you back to this. Shall it do so?" + +"Without trouble, you say? Then I will go this afternoon. No time like +the present. I had meant to do two or three errands for myself, and +told the fly to be here at three o'clock, but Annis shall do them for +me." + +"The carriage shall be here instead. Will you have it open or shut?" + +"Open in going. Closed in returning, if it be at all late. Catherine +and I will have a great deal to say to each other; once we meet, we +shall not be in haste to part. That is, if she does not cherish too +much resentment to speak to me at all. Of course, you will accompany +me?" + +"Of course I will," he answered: and hastened away to give the +necessary orders. Not to his house; he did not go near that; and did +not intend to do so, until fully assured that Lady Adela had left it; +he went direct to the stables. + +At three o'clock the carriage stood before the door of the hotel. Its +master stood waiting for it, and Miss Upton came out, followed by her +maid Annis, who was departing to do the errands. Mr. Grubb handed Miss +Upton into the carriage, and they drove to Blackheath. + +"Catherine!" + +"Margery!" + +The names simultaneously broke from their lips when the early friends +met; they who had lived estranged for the better part of their lives. +Mrs. Lynn was in what she called her invalid sitting-room, one that +opened from her bed-chamber, and which she occupied when she was +too ill to go downstairs. She was lying on a sofa near the +open window--from which window there was to be seen so fair a +landscape--but she rose when Miss Upton entered. + +They sat on the sofa side by side, hand clasping hand. Grievances were +forgotten, estrangement was at an end. Miss Upton had taken off her +bonnet and mantle, and looked as much at home as though she had lived +there for years. They fell to talking of the old days. Francis +remained below with his sister. + +"I did not expect to see you again, Margery, on this side the grave," +spoke Mrs. Lynn. "Not so very long ago, I should have declined a visit +from you had you proffered it. It is only when sickness has subdued +the spirit that we lay aside old animosities." + +"And therefore towards the end of life sickness comes to us. I said so +this afternoon to your son. We quarrel and fight and take vengeance on +one another in our hotheaded days: but when the blood chills with +years and the world is fading from us, we see what our crooked ways +have been worth." + +"You were all very bitter with me for marrying Christopher Grubb, +Margery; and you took care to let me know it. Uncle Francis--as we +used to call Sir Francis Netherleigh, though without the slightest +right to do so--was the most bitter of all." + +"Just as Elizabeth Acorn's girls call me 'aunt' in these later years," +remarked Miss Upton. "Yes, Uncle Francis was very angry. He thought +you had thrown yourself away." + +"Elizabeth Acorn has never condescended to take the slightest notice +of me. Although my son has married her daughter, she has never given +him the smallest intimation that she remembers we were friends in +early life." + +"Betsy always had her crotchets; they don't diminish with age," +returned Miss Upton. "She may be called a disappointed woman; and +disappointment seldom renders any one more genial." + +Mrs. Lynn did not understand. "Disappointed in what way?" + +"In her husband. Not in himself, but in his circumstances. When Betsy +married him, it was to enter, as she supposed, upon a career of +unlimited wealth and splendour. Instead of that, she found him to be +the most reckless of men as regards money, spending all before him, +and her life has been one of almost incessant embarrassment. You +little know what shifts she has been sometimes put to. It has soured +her, Catherine. What a noble man your son is," added the speaker, +after a brief pause. "One in a thousand." + +"And what a miserable mistake he made in wedding Adela Chenevix!" +returned Mrs. Lynn, with emotion. "She makes him the most wretched +wife. He does not open his lips to me, he never will do it; but I can +see what a blighted life his is--and I hear others speak of it. I +cannot help thinking that he is in some especial trouble with her at +the present moment, or why does he remain down here, now that I am +better?" + +"So they have not thought well to tell his mother," reflected Margery +Upton. Neither would she tell her. + +"You are happy in your children, Catherine. Of your son the world may +be proud--and is. As to your daughter, she is one of the sweetest +girls I know." + +"Yes, I am truly happy in my children," assented Mrs. Lynn. "It is a +wonderful consolation. But happiness does not attend them. Francis we +have spoken of. And poor Mary lost her betrothed husband, Robert +Dalrymple, by a dreadful fate, as you know. She will never marry." + +"Ah, that was a cruel business. Poor Robert! If he had only brought +his troubles to me, I would have saved him." + +"The singular thing is, that he did not take them to Francis," quickly +spoke Mrs. Lynn. "Francis had the power to help him, equally with +yourself, and he had the will. The very last day of Robert's life; at +least, I think it was the last, he was with Francis in Grosvenor +Square, and I believe Francis then offered to help him--or as good as +offered to do so." + +Margery Upton sighed. It was an unprofitable subject; a gloomy +reminiscence. "Let us leave it, Catherine," she said. "Did you give +your son the name of Francis in remembrance of Francis Netherleigh?" + +"Indeed I did not. Sir Francis Netherleigh had wounded me too greatly +for me to wish to retain any remembrance of him. Francis was named +after his uncle and his father." + +"Were you surprised at Netherleigh's being left to me?" resumed Miss +Upton, breaking a pause of silence. + +"Not at all. I thought it the most natural thing for Sir Francis to +do. I had married, and was discarded; Betsy Cleveland had also +married; her husband was a nobleman; mine was rich; and we neither of +us needed Netherleigh. It was not likely he would leave it to either +of us. You, on the contrary, continued to live with him as his +niece--his child--and you had no fortune. It was a just bequest, +Margery, in my judgment. It never occurred to me to think of it in any +other light." + +"Betsy Acorn has never forgiven me for having inherited it--or +forgiven Uncle Francis for leaving it to me. I have wondered at odd +moments whether you felt about it as she did." + +"I?" returned Mrs. Lynn, in surprise. "Never. Sir Francis did right in +leaving it to you. And, now, tell me a little about yourself, Margery. +Are you in good health? You do not look strong." + +We will leave them to themselves. It was a pleasant, and yet partly a +sad meeting; and perhaps each opened her heart to the other in more +confidential intercourse than had ever been exchanged between them +before. + +"Won't you come down and stay with me, and see the old place again, +Catherine?" spoke entreatingly the mistress of Court Netherleigh, in +parting. + +"Never again, Margery. I would willingly come to you; I should like to +see the dear old spot; but I shall never be able to go another day's +journey from this, my home. Not very long now, and I shall be carried +from it." + +Twilight was advancing, when the carriage came round to take Miss +Upton back to London. Lovely sunset colours lingered in the west; a +few light clouds floated across the sky; the crescent moon shone with +a pale silvery light. + +Lost, no doubt, in thoughts of the past interview, Margery Upton sat +in silence, leaning back in her corner of the carriage. Mr. Grubb did +not break it. So far as could be seen, he was wholly occupied with the +beauties of the sky. At least a mile of the way was thus passed. +Presently she glanced at him, and noted his outward, dreamy gaze. How +this trouble of his had troubled her, she did not care to tell. He had +her warmest sympathy. + +"Do not let this crush you," she suddenly cried, leaning towards him. +"Do not let the world see that it has subdued you; don't give her that +triumph. God can never mean that the life of a good and noble +Christian man, as you are, should be blighted. Yes, I know," she +continued, interrupting some words he spoke, "troubles come to all, +and it is on the best of us, as I believe, that they fall most +heavily; on God's chosen few." + +He laid his other hand upon hers, and kept it there. + +"It is, you know, through tribulation that we enter into the Kingdom," +she continued, softly; "and tribulation takes various shapes and +forms, as may be best suited to our true welfare. The cruelest pain +that the world knows may be fraught with guidance to the gate of +Eternity: which, otherwise, we might have missed." + +He could but give a silent assent. + +"Accept this trial, Francis. Bear it like a man, and you will in time +live it down. Make no change in your manner of living; do not give up +your home or establishment: no, nor your visitors: continue all that +as before. It is my best advice to you." + +"It is the best advice you could give," he answered, with emotion. +"Thank you for all your sympathy, dear Miss Upton. Thank you ever." + +She drew back to her corner, and he looked out at the night again. +Thus nearly another mile was passed. + +"Did you find my mother much changed?" he said by-and-bye. "Should you +have known her again?" + +"Known her again!"--returned Miss Upton, with a brief smile. "I knew +whom I was going to see, and therefore I could trace the features I +was once familiar with. We were girls when we parted, young and +blooming; now we are old women verging on the grave. Catherine retains +her remarkable eyes, undimmed, unclouded. They are beautiful as ever; +beautiful as yours." + +Francis Grubb had heard so much of his eyes all his life, remarkable +eyes, in truth, as Miss Upton called them, and very beautiful, that +the allusion fell unheeded, if not unheard, on his ear. Something else +in the words laid more hold upon him. + +"Not verging on the grave yet, I trust: _you_. My dear mother will +not, I fear, be spared long to us; but she has an incurable disease. +Such is not your case, dear Miss Upton; and you should not talk so. +You are young yet, as compared with many people. As, in fact, is my +mother." + +Margery Upton touched his arm, that he should look at her. "How do you +know that I have not an incurable disease? Why should not such a thing +come to me, as well as to your mother?" + +Something in the tone, the earnest look, struck on him with fear. "It +cannot be!" he slowly whispered. + +"It is. I am dying, Francis. Dying slowly but surely. The probability +is that I shall go before your mother goes." + +He remembered how worn and weary he had thought her looking for some +time past; how especially so on this same morning when she stopped him +at the door of the Cavendish. He recalled a sentence, a word, that had +fallen from her now and then, seeming to imply that she saw the close +of life drawing near. Yet still, with all this presenting itself to +him in a sudden mental effort, he could only reiterate: "It cannot be; +it cannot be!" + +"It is," she repeated. "I have suspected it for some time. I know it +now." + +A lump seemed to rise in his throat. How truly he esteemed and valued +this good lady he never quite realized until this morning. She +resumed. + +"I know my friends, the few who consider they have a right to concern +themselves about me, wonder that I should have come up to town so much +more frequently during the past few months than I was wont to come. +What I come for is to see my physician, Dr. Stair. I live too far off +to expect him to come to me; and the journey does me no harm. I have +an appointment with him tomorrow at eleven: after that, I return +home." + +"Is it the heart?" he asked, drawing a deep breath. + +"No: but it is a disorder none the less fatal than some of those +diseases that attack the heart. It is about two years ago--perhaps not +quite so much," she broke off, "since I began to fear I was not well. +I let it go on for a little time; Frost, our local doctor, did not +seem to make much out of it; and then I came up to Dr. Stair. He is a +straightforward man, and he plainly said he did not like my symptoms, +but he thought he could subdue them and set me right. I grew better +for a time; the malady seemed to have been checked, though it did not +entirely leave me. Latterly it has returned with increased force; +and--I know my fate." + +The disclosure brought to him the keenest pain. "If I could only avert +it!" he cried out, in his sorrow; "if I could only ward it off you!" + +"No one on earth can do that. For myself, I am quite resigned; +resting, and content to rest, in God's good hands." + +"And, how long----" + +"How long will it be before the end comes, you would ask," she said, +for he did not conclude the sentence. "That I do not know. I mean to +put the question to Dr. Stair tomorrow, and I am sure he will answer +it to the best of his belief. It may be pretty near." + +"Do you suffer pain?" + +"Always; more or less. That will grow worse, I suppose, before it is +over." + +"Alas! alas!" he mentally breathed. "Should not your friends be made +acquainted with this, Miss Upton?" + +"My chief friends are acquainted with it. I have no very close +friends. The Rector of Netherleigh is the closest, and he has known of +it for some time. That is, he knows I am suffering from a disorder +that I shall probably never get the better of. Your mother knows it, +for I told her this evening; and now you know it. My faithful maid +Annis knows a little--Frost and Dr. Stair most of all. No one else +knows of it in the wide world: and I do not wish that any one should +know." + +"Is it right? Right to them?" + +"Why, what other friends have I? Lady Acorn, you may say. She has +never been as a _friend_ to me. Your mother and I, had opportunity +permitted, might have been the truest and dearest friends, but I and +Betsy Acorn, never. She and I do not assimilate. Time enough to +proclaim my condition to the world when I become so ill that it cannot +be concealed." + +She fell into a reverie; and they scarcely exchanged another word for +the rest of the way. + +"You will not speak of this to the Acorns," she said to him, as the +carriage stopped at the hotel. + +"Certainly not, as you do not wish it. Or to any one else." + +"It would only give a fillip to Lord Acorn's extravagance. With the +prospect of coming into Court Netherleigh close at hand, he would +increase his debts thick and threefold." + +Francis Grubb nodded assent; he knew how true it was: he shook her +hand with a lingering pressure, and watched her up the stairs. Then, +dismissing his carriage, he walked through the lighted streets to +Charing-Cross Station on his way back to Blackheath. + +It may be that he shunned his home lest his wife should still be in +it. He need not have feared. Within an hour of his departure from it +at midday, while she was still in the depth of the bewilderment which +the blow had brought her, Lord Acorn arrived. His errand was to take +her away with him; and to take her peremptorily. He did not say to +her, "Will you put on your bonnet and come with me, Adela:" he said, +curtly, "Come." + +"I cannot leave my home in this dreadful way, papa," she gasped, voice +and hands alike trembling. "I cannot leave it for ever." + +"You will," he coldly answered. "You must. You have no alternative. I +am come to remove you from it." + +"No, no," she pleaded. "Oh, papa, have mercy! Papa, papa!" + +"You should have made that prayer to your husband, Adela--while the +time to do it yet remained to you." + +She clasped her hands in bitter repentance. "He will forgive me yet; I +know he will. He may let me----" + +"Never," interrupted Lord Acorn. "You may put that notion out of your +mind for good, Adela. Francis Grubb will never forgive you, or receive +you back while life shall last." + +She moaned faintly. + +"And you have only yourself to thank for it. Put your things on, as I +bid you," he sternly added. "This is waste of time. And send your maid +to me for instructions." + +And thus Adela was removed from her husband's house overwhelmed with +shame and remorse. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. +A DREARY LIFE. + + +In the light of the late but genial autumn sunshine lay Court +Netherleigh. September was quickly passing. It was summer weather when +we last met the reader; it is getting on for winter now. + +In that favourite room of Miss Upton's where we first saw her--Miss +Margery's room, as it is called in the household--she sits today, +shivering near a blazing fire, a bright cashmere shawl worn over her +purple silk gown, a simple cap of rich white lace shading her shrunken +features. Her malady is making steady progress, and she always feels +cold. + +The small, pretty room has been renewed, but its old colours are +retained. The glass-doors, that used to stand open when the sun shone +or the air was balmy, are closed today, for the faintest breath of +wind chills the invalid. On the table at her elbow lies a book of +devotion half closed, her spectacles resting between the leaves; one +of those books that the gay and busy world turn from as being so +gloomy, and that bring comfort so great to those who are leaving it. +Miss Upton sits back in her chair, looking up at the blue heavens, +where she is so soon to be. + +"I cannot help wishing sometimes," she began in low dreamy tones, +"that more decided revelation of what heaven will be had been +vouchsafed to us. I mean as to our own state there, our work, and +occupations. Though I suppose that all work--work, as we call it +here--will be as rest there. We know that we shall be in a state of +happiness beyond conception; but we know not precisely of what it will +consist." + +"I suppose we were not meant to know," replied the young lady to whom +she spoke, who sat apart on the green satin sofa, her elbow resting on +one arm of it, her delicate hand shading her face. The tone of her +voice was weary and depressed, the other hand lay listless on her +muslin dress. "Time enough for that, perhaps, when we get there--those +who _do_ get there." + +"Don't be irreverent," came the quick reproof. + +"Irreverent! I did not mean to be so, Aunt Margery." + +"You used to be irreverent enough, Lady Adela. As the world knows." + +"Ay. Things have changed for me." + +It was indeed the Lady Adela sitting there. But she was altered in +looks almost as much as Miss Margery. The once careless, saucy, +haughty girl had grown sad, her manner utterly spiritless, the once +blooming face was pale and thin. Only yesterday had she come to Court +Netherleigh, following on a communication from Lady Acorn. + +"I can do nothing with her; she is utterly self-willed and obstinate; +I shall send her to you for a little while, Margery," wrote Lady Acorn +to Miss Upton: and Margery Upton had replied that she might come. + +That a wave of trouble had swept over Lady Adela, leaving desolation +and despair behind it, was all too visible. To be put away by her +husband in the face and eyes of her own family and of the world, was +to her proud spirit the very bitterest blow possible to be inflicted +on it; a cruel mortification, that she would never quite lose the +sting of as long as life lasted. + +On the very day the separation was decided upon, not an hour after Mr. +Grubb left her in her chamber after apprising her of it, Lord Acorn, +as you have read, came to the house, and took her from it without +ceremony. His usual débonnaire indifference had given place to a +sternness, against which there could be no thought of rebellion. + +She took up her abode at Chenevix House that day, and Darvy followed +with the possessions that belonged to her. She was not kindly +received, or warmly treated. No, she had given too serious offence for +that. Her mother did not spare her in the matter of reproach; her +father was calmly bitter; Grace was cold. Lady Sarah Hope ran away to +the country to avoid her, taking her sister Frances and Alice +Dalrymple; and Lady Sarah made no scruple of letting it be known at +her father's why she had gone. + +Lord and Lady Acorn might have their personal failings, the one be too +lavish of money, the other of temper, but they had at least brought up +their daughters to be good and honourable women, instilling into them +strict principles; and the blow was a sharp one. They deemed it right +and just not to spare her who had inflicted it--inflicted it in wanton +wilfulness--and they let her pain come home to her. It all told upon +Adela. + +The world turned upon her a cold shoulder. Rumours of the separation +between Mr. and Lady Adela Grubb soon grew into certainty; and the +world wanted to know the cause of it. For, after all, the true and +immediate cause, that terrible crime she had allowed herself to +commit, never transpired. The very few cognizant of it buried the +secret within their own bosoms for her good name's sake. No clue +transpiring as to this, people fell back upon the other and only cause +known, more or less, to them--her long-maintained cavalier treatment +of her husband. Mr. Grubb must have come to his senses at last, +reasoned society, and sent her home to her mother to be taught better +manners. And society considered that he had done righteously. + +So the world, taking up other people's business according to custom, +turned its back upon her. Which was, to say the least of it, +inconsistent. For now, had the Lady Adela been suspected of any grave +social crime; one, let us say, involving fears of having to appear +before the Judge of the Divorce Court, society would have shaken hands +with her as usual, so long as public proceedings remained in abeyance: +what every one may privately see or suspect goes for nothing. This +other offence was lighter, it did not involve those fatal extremes; +this was more as though she were being punished as a naughty child; +consequently the world thought fit to let its opinion be known, and to +deal out a meed of censure on its own immaculate score. + +But it told, I say, on Lady Adela. Told cruelly. Cast off by her +husband for good and aye; tacitly reproached daily and hourly by her +parents; rejected by her sisters, as though she might tarnish them if +brought into too close contact, and looked askance at by society; Lady +Adela drank the cup of repentance to the dregs. + +If she could, if she could only undo her work--if that one fatal +morning, when she found the cheque-book lying on the floor of her +husband's dressing-room, had never been numbered in the calendar of +the past! She was for ever wishing this fruitless wish. For ever +wishing that her treatment of her husband had been different in the +time before that one temptation set in. + +No more invitations came for her from the gay world. Not that she +would have accepted them. For the short time the Chenevix family +remained in town after the outbreak, cards would come in, bidding Lord +and Lady Acorn and their daughter Grace to this entertainment or to +that; but never a one came for Lady Adela Grubb. She might have passed +out of existence for all the notice taken of her. Mr. Grubb had +suggested to her father that she should have her own carriage. She did +not set one up; she would have had no use for it, had it been set up +for her. + +They went to their seat in Oxfordshire, carrying her with them. Lord +Acorn returned to town in a day or two: Grace went on to Colonel +Hope's place near Cheltenham, to stay with her sisters, Sarah and +Frances. This left Adela and Lady Acorn alone; and her ladyship very +nearly drove the girl wild with her tartness. She would have driven +her quite wild had Adela's spirit been what it once was; but it was +altogether subdued. + +"Mamma," said Adela to her one day, after some mutual bickering, "do +you want me to die?" + +"Don't talk like a simpleton," retorted Lady Acorn. + +"I think I shall die--if I have to lead this life much longer." + +"You are as much likely to die as I am. What do you mean?" + +"I mean what I say. I think I must--must kill myself, or something. +Take a dose of opium, perhaps." + +"You wicked girl! Running on in that false manner! Whatever your life +may be, you have brought it upon yourself." + +"Yes," thought Adela, "there lies the sting." + +"What's the matter with the life?" tartly resumed her mother. + +"It is so weary. And there's no hope left in it." + +"It would not be weary if you chose to exert yourself. Get +music--books--work. Look at Grace, how busy she is when we are staying +here, with her sick-clubs, and her poor cottagers, and her schools." + +Lady Adela turned up her pretty nose. "Sick-clubs and schools! Yes, +that suits Grace." + +"At all events, it keeps her from being dull. What do you do all day +long! Just sit with your head bent on your hand, or mope about the +rooms like one demented! It gives me the fidgets to look at you! You +should rouse yourself, Adela." + +"Rouse myself to what?" she faintly asked. "There's nothing to rouse +myself to." + +"_Make_ something: some interest for yourself. No life is open to you +now except a quiet one. Even were it possible that you could wish for +any other, I and your father would take care you did not enter on it. +But quiet lives may be made full of interest, if we will; a great deal +more so than noisy ones." + +Good advice, no doubt: perhaps the only advice now open to Lady Adela. +She did not profit by it. The weary time went on, and she grew more +weary day by day. Lady Acorn called her obstinate; sometimes Adela +retaliated. At last, the countess, losing all patience, wrote to Miss +Upton to say she should send her for a little change to Court +Netherleigh; for she was quite unaware of the critical state of Miss +Upton's health. + +And this was the first time, this morning when we see Miss Upton and +Adela sitting together, that any special conversation had been held +between them. The previous day had been one of Miss Margery's "bad +days," when she was confined to the sofa in her chamber, and she had +only been able to see Adela for a minute or two, to bid her welcome. +Miss Upton criticizing Adela's appearance by the morning light, found +her looking ill, but she quite believed her to be just as graceless as +ever. + +"Things change for all of us, Adela," observed she, continuing the +conversation. "They have changed most especially for you." + +Lady Adela raised her face, something like defiance on it. Was the +miserable past to be recalled to her _here_, as well as at home?--was +she going to be for ever lectured upon its fruits, as her mother +lectured her? She was wretched enough herself about it, Heaven knew, +and would undo it if she could; but that was no reason why all the +world should be incessantly casting it in her teeth. She answered +sharply. + +"The past is over, Aunt Margery, and the less said about it the +better. To be told of it will do me no good." + +Aunt Margery did not like the tone. Could this mistaken girl--she +really looked but as a girl--be _extenuating_ the past, and her own +conduct in it? + +"Do you know what I said, Adela, when the news reached me of all +you had done, and I thought of the consequences it might involve? I +said--and I spoke truly--that I would rather have seen you in your +grave." + +"Said it to mamma, I suppose?" + +"No. I tried to excuse you to her. I said it to your husband." + +"Oh--to him," said Adela, assuming an indifference she did not feel. + +"And I am not sure but death might have been a happier fate for you +than this that you have brought upon yourself--disgrace, the neglect +of the world, and a dreary, purposeless life." + +It might have been. Adela felt it so to her heart's core. She bit her +lips to conceal their trembling. + +"All the same, Aunt Margery, he was harsher than he need have been." + +"Who was?" + +"Mr. Grubb." + +"Do you think so, Adela--remembering your long course of scorn and +cruelty? My only wonder was that he had not emancipated himself from +it long before." + +Adela flushed, and began to tap her foot on the carpet in incipient +rebellion. Of all things, she hated to be reminded of that mistake of +the long-continued years. Miss Margery noted the signs. + +"Child, I do not wish to pain you unnecessarily: but, as the topic has +come up, I cannot allow you to mistake my opinion. You had a prince of +a husband; a man of rare merit: he has, I truly believe, scarcely his +equal in the world----" + +"I know you always thought him perfection," interrupted Adela. + +"I _found_ him so. As near perfection as mortal man may be here." + +"Including his name," she put in, with a touch of her old sauciness. + +Miss Upton replied not in words: she simply looked at her. It was a +long, steady, and very peculiar look, one that Adela did not +understand, and it passed away with a half-smile. + +"For true nobility of mind," resumed Miss Margery, "for uprightness of +life, for goodness of heart, who is like him? Look at his generosity +to all and every one. Recall one slight recent act of his--what he did +for that fantastically foolish lad, Charles Cleveland. Most men, +provoked as Mr. Grubb had been by you, and in a degree also by +Charles, would have abandoned him to his fate. Not he. That is not his +way. When the poor Rector was fretting himself to discover what was +next to be done with Charles, and the young fellow was mooning about +Netherleigh, his hands in his pockets, trying to make up his mind to +go and enlist, for he saw no other opening for him, there came a +letter to the Rector from Mr. Grubb. He had interested himself with +his correspondents in Calcutta--I'm not sure but it is a branch of his +own house--and had obtained Charles a place, out there, at just double +the salary he enjoyed here." + +"And Charley is half-way over the seas on his voyage to it," lightly +remarked Adela. "Charley was only a goose, Aunt Margery." + +"You cannot say that of your husband," sharply returned Miss Margery, +not approving the tone. "Unless it was in his love for you. Your +husband was fond of you to folly; he indulged your every whim; he +would have made your life happy as a dream of Paradise. And how did +you requite him?" + +No answer. The rebellious tapping of the foot had ceased. + +"It has been a sad, cruel business altogether," sighed Miss Upton: +"both for him and for you. It has blighted his life; taken all the +sunshine out of it. And what has it done for yours?" + +What indeed? Adela pushed back her pretty brown hair with both hands +from her feverish forehead. + +"Any way, the blight does not seem to have sensibly affected him, Aunt +Margery. One hears of him here, there, and everywhere. You can't take +up a newspaper but you see his name reiterated in it--Grubb, Grubb, +Grubb!" + +She put a great amount of scorn into the name. Miss Upton sighed. + +"I am grieved to see you in this frame of mind, Adela." + +"I am only saying what's true, Aunt Margery. I'm sure one would think +he had taken the whole business of the world upon his shoulders. He is +being asked to stand for some county or other now." + +"Yes; he is playing an active part in the world," assented Miss +Margery. "All honour to him that it is so! Do you suppose that one, +wise and conscientious as he is, would put aside his duties to God and +man because his heart has been well-nigh broken by a heartless wife? +Rather would he be the more earnest in fulfilling them. Occupation +will enable him to forget the past sooner and more effectually than +anything else would." + +"To forget me, I suppose you mean, Aunt Margery." + +"Would you wish him to remember you, Adela--and what you have been to +him? I tell you, child, that my whole heart aches for your husband: it +ached long before you left him; while--I must say it--it was full of +resentment against you. I am very sorry for you, Adela; you are my +god-daughter, and I will try my best, whilst you stay with me, to +soothe your wounds and reconcile you to this inevitable change. It has +tried you: I see that, in spite of your pretended carelessness; you +appear to me to be anything but strong." + +"I am not strong, Aunt Margery. And if I fade away into the grave, I +don't suppose any one will miss me or regret me." + +"The best thing for her, perhaps, poor child--to be removed from this +blighted life to the bright and beautiful life above! And her husband, +released from his trammels, would then probably find that comfort in a +second wife which he missed in her. Who knows but this may be God's +purpose? He is over all." + +Was Margery Upton aware that these words were spoken in a murmur--not +merely thought? Probably not. They reached Adela: and a curious pang +shot through her heart. + +The butler came into the room at the moment, bringing a message to his +mistress. One of her tenants had called, and wished very much to be +allowed a short interview with her. And Miss Upton, who was still able +to attend at times to worldly matters, quitted the room at once. + +A faint cry escaped Lady Adela as the door closed. She turned her face +upon the sofa-cushion, and burst into a flood of distressing tears. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. +LAST WORDS. + + +December was in, and winter weather lay on the earth. Court +Netherleigh looked out on a lovely view, rare as a scene from +fairyland. Snow clung to the branches of the trees in feathery beauty; +icicles sparkled in the sun. A new and strange world might have +replaced the old one. + +Margery Upton lay on the sofa in her dressing-room. She was able to +get into it most days, but she had given up going downstairs now. +During the months that had gone on since the autumn and the time of +Lady Adela's sojourn, the fatal disease which had fastened on Miss +Upton had made its persistent though partly imperceptible ravages, and +her condition was now no longer a secret; though few people suspected +how very near the end might be. In her warm dressing-gown of soft +violet silk, for she remained loyal to her favourite colour, and her +lace cap shading her face, she lay between the fireplace and the +window, gazing at the snowy landscape. She did not look very ill, and +Grace Chenevix might be excused for the hopeful thought, now crossing +her mind, that perhaps after all Aunt Margery would rally. Grace had +come down to spend a few days with her. She sat on the other side the +hearthrug, tatting, the small ivory shuttle passing rapidly through +her fingers. + +"You do not have this beautiful scene in London, Grace," observed Miss +Upton. + +"Not often, Aunt Margery. Now and then, once, say, in four or five +winters, the trees in the park look lovely. Of course we never see so +beautiful a prospect as this is in its completeness." + +"I wonder if our scenery in the next world will be much more +beautiful--or if it will even be anything like this?" came the dreamy +remark from the invalid. "Ah, Grace, I suppose I shall soon know now." + +Lady Grace checked a sigh. She thought it best to be cheerful. The +shuttle had to be threaded again, and she got up to reach the ball of +thread. + +"Who was your letter from this morning, Gracie? Annis said you had +one: from 'foreign parts,' she took care to inform me." + +Grace smiled. "Yes, I had, Aunt Margery; I had forgotten it for the +moment. It was from Harriet. They are still in Switzerland, and mean +to stay there." + +"I thought they were to go to Rome for Christmas." + +"But Adela objects to it so much, Harriet says; so they intend to +remain where they are, in the desolate old château. They have made it +as air-tight as they can, and keep up large wood fires. Adela shrinks +from meeting the world, and Rome is unusually full of English." + +"How is Adela?" + +"Just the same. Worse, if anything; more sad, more spiritless. Harriet +begins to fear she will become really ill; she seems to have a sort of +low fever upon her." + +"Poor girl!" sighed Miss Upton. "How she has blighted her life! I had +a letter, too, this morning," she resumed, "from Mrs. Lynn. She is +very ill; thinks she cannot last much longer--Francis told me so last +week. I wonder"--in a half-whisper--"which of us will go first, she or +I?" + +"Was Mr. Grubb here last week, Aunt Margery?" + +"For a few hours. I like him to come to me sometimes; he is a great +favourite of mine. Grace, do you know what I have often wished--that +that old story, that he proposed for _you_, had been fact instead of +misapprehension. With you he would have found the happiness he missed +with Adela." + +A flush passed over Grace's fair, placid face. She bent her head. + +"Marriages are said, you know, to be made in heaven," she remarked, +looking up with a smile; "so I conclude that all must have been right. +Were the years to come over again, Adela would act very differently. +She--oh, Aunt Margery, the snowy sprays are disappearing!" + +"Ay; the sun has come out, and the snow melts. Few pleasant things +last long in this world, child; something or other comes to mar them. +But I thought you meant to go to Moat Grange this morning, Grace. You +should start at once; it has struck eleven." + +"I said I should like to see Selina, and to call on Mrs. Dalrymple on +the way." + +"Well, do so. Selina will receive you with open arms. She must be +amazingly lonely, shut up in that dreary house from year's end to +year's end. They see no company." + +Grace put her tatting into its little basket, and rose. "Are you sure +you shall not feel dull at being left, Aunt Margery?" she stayed to +ask. + +"I never feel dull, Grace." + +Barely had Grace started on her walk, when the maid came to the +dressing-room to say the Rector had called. "Will you see him, ma'am?" +she inquired. + +"Yes, Annis, I wish to see him," was Miss Upton's reply, as she rose +from her recumbent position on the sofa and sat down upon it. Annis +folded a grey shawl over her mistress's knees, put a footstool under +her feet, and sent up Mr. Cleveland. + +After a short time given to subjects of more vital importance, Miss +Upton began to talk of her worldly affairs, induced to it possibly by +a question of the Rector's as to whether all things were settled. + +"You mean my will, I suppose," she answered, slightly smiling. "Yes, +it is settled and done with. Will you be surprised to hear that I made +my will within a month of coming into this estate, and that it has +never been altered?" + +"Indeed!" he remarked. + +"I added a codicil to it last year, specifying the legacies I wish to +bequeath; but the substance of the will, with its bequest, Court +Netherleigh, remains unchanged." + +Mr. Cleveland opened his lips to speak, and closed them again. In the +impulse of the moment, he was about to say, "To whom have you left +it?" But he remembered that it was a question he could not properly +put. + +"You were about to ask me who it is that will inherit this property, +and you do not like to do so," she said, nodding to him pleasantly. +"Well----" + +"I beg your pardon," he interrupted. "The thought did arise to me, and +I almost forgot myself." + +"And very natural that it should arise to you. I am about to tell you +all about it. I meant to do so before my death: as well now as any +other time." + +"Have you left it to Lord Acorn?" + +"No; that I have not," she replied, in quick, decisive tones, as if +the very suggestion did not please her. "Lord Acorn and his wife have +chosen to entertain the notion; though they have not had any warranty +for it from me, but the contrary: understand me, please, the contrary. +Court Netherleigh is willed to Francis Grubb." + +Mr. Cleveland's surprise was so great that for the moment he could +only gaze at the speaker. He doubted if he heard correctly. + +"To Francis Grubb!" he exclaimed. + +"Yes; to him, and no other. I see how surprised you are. The world +will feel surprise also." + +"But Mr. Grubb is so rich!--he does not want Court Netherleigh," +debated the Rector: not that he had any wish to cavil with the decree; +he simply spoke out the thought that occurred to him. + +"Were Mr. Grubb in possession of all the wealth of the Indies, he +would still inherit Court Netherleigh," said she, looking across at +her listener. + +"I see. He is a favourite of yours; and most deservedly so." + +"Cast your thoughts outwards, Mr. Cleveland, to the circle known to +you and to me," she continued: "can you point out one single +individual who has any abstract right to succeed to Court +Netherleigh?" + +"No, I cannot," he said, after a pause. "It is only because I have +been accustomed to think it would become Lord Acorn's that I feel +surprise." + +"Lord Acorn would only make ducks-and-drakes of it; we all know that. +And, to return to the subject of right, or claim, he does not possess +so much of that as does Mr. Grubb." + +Mr. Cleveland waited. He could not quite understand. + +"Listen," said Miss Upton. "We three girls--you know whom I mean--were +the only relatives Sir Francis Netherleigh had in the world. The other +two married; I was left; and, after my mother's death, I came to live +here. One day, during his fatal illness--it was the very last day he +ever came downstairs--he bade me put aside my work and listen to him. +It was a lovely summer afternoon, and we were sitting in the blue +drawing-room, at the open window, he in his easy-chair. Uncle +Francis--as we three girls had always called him, though, as you know, +he was no uncle of ours--began speaking to me for the first time of +his approaching death. I burst into tears, and that did not please +him: he could be impatient at times. 'I want you to listen to me +rationally, not to cry,' he said; 'and you must have known for some +time that I was going.' So I dried my tears as well as I could, and he +went on to tell me that it was I who would succeed to Court +Netherleigh. I was indeed surprised! I could not believe it; just as +you did not believe me now, when I told you I had bequeathed it to +Francis Grubb; and I said something about not taking it--that _I_ was +not of sufficient consequence to be the mistress of Court Netherleigh. +That put him out--little things had done so of late--and he testily +asked me who else there was to take it. 'I have neither son nor +nephew, more's the pity,' he went on, 'no relative of any kind, except +you three girls. Had Catherine Grant not married she would have had +Court Netherleigh,' he continued, 'but she put herself beyond the pale +of society. Betsy Cleveland has done the same; and there is only you.' +He then passed on to say how he should wish the place to be kept up. +'And to whom am I to leave it?' I said to him in turn, feeling greatly +perplexed; 'I shall not know what to do with it.' 'That is chiefly +what I want to talk to you about,' he answered. 'Perhaps you will +marry, and have a son----' 'No; I shall never marry--never!' I +interrupted. For I had had my little romance in early life," broke off +Miss Upton, looking at the Rector, "and that kind of thing had closed +for me. You have heard something of it, I fancy?" + +Mr. Cleveland nodded: and she resumed. + +"Uncle Francis saw I was in earnest; that no heir to Court Netherleigh +would ever spring from me. 'In that case,' he said, 'I must suggest +some one else,' and there he came to a pause. 'There's Lord Acorn,' I +ventured to say, 'Betsy's husband----' 'Hold your tongue, unless you +can talk sense!' he called out in anger. 'Would I allow Court +Netherleigh to fall into the hands of a spendthrift? If George Acorn +came into the property tomorrow, by the end of the year there would +be nothing left of it: every acre would be mortgaged away. I charge +you,' he solemnly added, 'not to allow George Acorn, or that son of +his, little Denne, or any other son he may hereafter have, ever to +come into Court Netherleigh. You understand, Margery, I forbid it. +Putting aside Acorn's spendthrift nature, which would be an +insurmountable barrier, and I dare say his son inherits it, I should +not care for a peer to own the property; rather some one who will take +the name of Netherleigh, and in whom the baronetcy may perhaps be +revived.' You now see," added Miss Upton, glancing at the earnest face +of the Rector, "why I am debarred, even though it had been my wish, +from bequeathing Court Netherleigh to Lord Acorn." + +"I do indeed." + +"To go back to my uncle. 'Failing children of your own,' he continued, +'there is only one I can name as your successor--there's no other +person living to name--and that is the little son of Catherine Grubb.' +'_Catherine's_ son!' I interrupted, in very astonishment. 'Yes; why +not?' he answered. 'She offended me; but he has not; and I hear, for +I have made inquiries through Pencot, that he is a noble little lad: +his name, too, is Francis--Pencot has obtained all necessary +information. In the years to come, when he shall be a good man--for +Pencot tells me no pains are being spared to make him _that_--perhaps +also a great one, he may come here and reign as my successor, a second +Sir Francis Netherleigh. In any case, he must take the name with the +property; it must be made a condition: do not forget that.' I promised +that I would not forget it, but I could not get over the surprise I +felt. This boy was the son of Christopher Grubb; and it was to him, to +his calling, so much objection had been raised in the family." + +"It does appear rather contradictory on the face of it," agreed Mr. +Cleveland. + +"Yes. Uncle Francis saw what was in my mind. 'Were the past to come +over again,' he observed, 'I might be less harsh with Catherine, more +tolerant to him.' 'But Mr. Grubb _is_ in trade, is a merchant, just as +he was then,' I returned, wonderingly. 'When our days in this world +draw to their close, and we stand on the threshold of another, ideas +change,' returned my uncle. 'We see then that the inordinate value we +have set on worldly distinctions may have been, to say the least of +it, exaggerated; whilst the principles of right and justice become +more weighty. What little right or claim there is in the matter, with +regard to a successor to Court Netherleigh, lay with Catherine Grant. +I have had to substitute you, Margery, for her; but it is _right_ that +her son should come in after you. I also find that Mr. Grubb's +business is of a high standing, altogether different from the ideas we +formed of it.'" + +"How did any right lie with Catherine Grant--more than with you or +Elizabeth Cleveland?" asked the Rector. + +"In this way: Catherine Grant was the most nearly related to Sir +Francis. Her mother was his first cousin, whereas my mother and +Betsy's mother were only second cousins. Catherine also was the +eldest of the three, by about a year. So you perceive he spoke with +reason--the right of succession, if any right existed, lay with her." + +Mr. Cleveland nodded. + +"'After you come into possession here, do not lose time in making your +will,' he continued. 'Tomorrow I will write down a few particulars to +guide you, which you can, at the proper time, show to Pencot. The +lad's name, Francis Grubb, will be put in as your successor, and when +he comes here, in later years, he must change it to Francis +Netherleigh.' 'But,' I rejoined, 'suppose the little boy should grow +up a bad man, a man of evil repute, what then?' 'Then,' he said, +striking his hand emphatically upon the elbow of his chair, 'I charge +you to destroy your first will, and make a fresh one. Look out in the +world for yourself, and choose a worthy successor--not any one of the +Acorns, mind, I have interdicted that; some gentleman of fair and +estimable character, who will do his duty earnestly to God and to his +neighbour, and who will take my name. Not the baronetcy. Unless he +were of blood relationship to me, though ever so remote, no plea would +exist for petitioning for that. But I think better things of this +little boy in question,' he added quickly; 'instinct whispers that he +will be found worthy.' As he _is_," emphatically concluded Miss Upton. +"And I intend him to be, and hope he will be, a second Sir Francis +Netherleigh. I have put things in train for it." + +Miss Upton paused a moment, as if lost in the past. + +"It is a singular coincidence, not unlike a link in a chain," she went +on, dreamily, "that the present Prime Minister should be an old +habitué of Court Netherleigh; many a week in his boyhood did he pass +here with Uncle Francis, who was very kind to him. He has continued +his friendship with me unto this day; coming down to visit me +occasionally. I made a confidant of him during his last visit, telling +him what I am now telling you, and I asked him to get this +accomplished. He promised faithfully to do so, for our old +friendship's sake, and in remembrance of his obligations to Uncle +Francis, who had been a substantial friend to him. It would not be +difficult, he said, Mr. Grubb assenting--whom, by the way, he esteems +greatly. Therefore, you will, I hope, at no very prolonged period +after my death, see him reigning here, Sir Francis Netherleigh." + +"Has Mr. Grubb assented?" asked the Rector. + +Miss Upton shook her head and smiled. "Mr. Grubb knows nothing +whatever about the matter. He has no more idea that he will inherit +Court Netherleigh than I had that I should inherit it before that +revelation to me by Uncle Francis. He will know nothing until I am +dead. I have written him a farewell letter, which will then reach him, +explaining all things; just as I have written out a statement for the +world, disclosing the commands laid upon me by Uncle Francis, lest I +should be accused of caprice, and possibly--Mr. Grubb of cupidity." + +"You are content to leave him your successor?" + +"More than content. I look around, and ask myself who else is so +worthy. After Uncle Francis's death, I was not content. No, I confess +it: Catherine had offended all our prejudices, and her child shared +them in my mind. But I never thought of disputing the charge laid upon +me, and my will was made in the boy's favour. From time to time, as +the years passed on, Mr. Pencot brought me reports of him--that he was +growing up all that could be wished for. Still, I could not quite put +away my prejudice; and whether I should have sought to make +acquaintance with him, had chance not brought it about, I cannot say. +I met him first at a railway-station." + +"Indeed?" cried Mr. Cleveland, who had never heard of that day's +meeting. + +"I was going down to Cheltenham with Annis and Marcus, and our train +came to grief near Reading; the passengers had to get out whilst the +damage, something to an axle, was tinkered up. Francis Grubb was +coming up from the Acorns' place in Oxfordshire: it was during the +time he was making love to Adela, and the accident to my train stopped +his. I was sitting by the wayside disconsolately enough on my little +wooden bonnet-box, when one of the nicest-looking and grandest men, +for a young man, I ever saw, came up and politely asked if he could be +of any service to me. My heart, so to say, went out to him at once, +his manner was so winning, his countenance so good and noble. +Something in his eyes struck me as familiar--you know how beautiful +they are--when in another moment my own eyes fell on the name on his +hand-bag, 'C. Grubb.' Then I remembered the eyes; they were +Catherine's; and I knew that I saw before me her son and my heir." + +"And your silent prejudice against him ceased from that time," laughed +the Rector. + +"Entirely. I have learnt to love him, to be proud of him. Catherine +cannot feel more pride in her son than I feel in him. But I have never +given him the slightest hint that he will inherit Court Netherleigh. +Not that I have never felt tempted to do so. When Adela has jeered at +his name, in her contemptuous way, it has been on the tip of my tongue +more than once to say to her: He will bear a better sometime. And I +have told himself once--or twice--that he was quite safe in letting +Acorn borrow money on Court Netherleigh. He is safe, you see, seeing +that it is he himself who will come into it: though, of course, he +took it to mean that Acorn would do so." + +Mr. Cleveland drew a long breath. These matters had surprised him, but +in his heart of hearts he felt thankful that the rich demesnes would +become Francis Grubb's and not thriftless George Acorn's. + +"Never a word of this abroad until I am gone, my old friend," she +enjoined, "not even to your wife; you understand that?" + +"I understand it perfectly, dear Miss Upton, and will observe it." + +"You will not have long to wait." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. +IN THE OLD CHÂTEAU. + + +A draughty old château in Switzerland. Not that it need have been +draughty, for it lay at the foot of a mountain, sheltered from the +east winds. But the doors did not fit, and the windows rattled, after +the custom of most old châteaux: and so the winter air crept in. It +stood in a secluded spot quite out of the beaten tracks of travellers; +and it looked upon one of the most glorious prospects that even this +favoured land of lovely scenery can boast. + +That prospect in part, and in part the very moderate rent asked for +the house, had induced Sir Sandy MacIvor to take it for the autumn +months. The MacIvors, though descended from half the kings of +Scotland, could not boast of anything very great in the shape of +income. Sir Sandy's was but small, and he and his wife, Lady Harriet, +formerly Harriet Chenevix, had some trouble to make both ends meet. +The little baronet was fond of quoting the old saying that he had to +cut his coat according to his cloth. Therefore, when Lady Adela went +to them for a prolonged stay, the very ample allowance made for her to +Sir Sandy was most welcome. + +Upon the close of Adela's short visit to Court Netherleigh in the +autumn, she returned to her mother. The visit had not been productive +of any good result as regarded her cheerfulness of mind and manner; +for her life seemed only to grow more dreary. Lady Acorn did not +approve of this, and took care daily to let Adela know she did not, +dealing out to her sundry reproaches. One day when Adela was unusually +low-spirited, the countess made use of a threat--that she should be +transported to that gloomy Swiss fastness the MacIvors had settled +themselves in, and stop there until she mended her manners. + +A chance word, spoken at hazard, sometimes bears fruit. Adela, a faint +light rising in her eyes as she heard this, lifted her voice eagerly. +"Mother, let me go; send me there as soon as you please," she said. +"It will at least be better for me there than here, for I shall be out +of the world." + +"Out of the world!" snapped Lady Acorn. "You can't be much more out of +it than you are down here in Oxfordshire." + +"Yes, I can. The neighbours, those who are at their places, come in to +see us, and papa sometimes brings people home from town. Let me go to +Harriet." + +It was speedily decided. Lady Acorn, severe though she was with Adela, +had her welfare at heart, and she thought a thorough change might be +beneficial to her. An old friend, who chanced to be going abroad, took +charge of Lady Adela to Geneva: Sir Sandy MacIvor and his wife met her +there, and took her back with them to the château. + +That was in October. Adela found the château as isolated as she could +well desire, and therefore she was pleased with it; and she told Sir +Sandy and Harriet she was glad to have come. + +They had never thought of staying in this château for the winter; they +meant to go to Rome early in December. But as that month approached, +Adela evinced a great dislike to move. She would not go to Rome to +encounter the English there, she told them; she would stay where she +was. It a little perplexed the MacIvors; Adela had now grown so weak +and low-spirited that they did not like to cross her or to insist upon +it that she must go; neither did they care to give her up as their +inmate, for her money was of consequence to them. + +"What if we make up our minds to stay here for the winter, Harriet?" +at length said Sir Sandy, who was as easy-tempered, genial-hearted a +little laird as could be met with in or out of Scotland: though he +stood only five feet high in his shoes, and nothing could be seen of +his face except his small retroussé nose standing out of the mass of +bright yellow hair which adorned it. + +"It will be so cold," grumbled Harriet. "Think of all these draughts." + +"They won't hurt," said the laird, who was bred to such things, his +paternal stronghold in the Highlands not being altogether air-tight. +"I'll nail some list over the cracks, and we'll lay in a good stock of +wood and keep up grand fires. I think we might be comfortable, +Harriet. It must be as you decide, of course, dear; but Adela can't be +left here alone, and if we say she must go with us to Rome, she may +fret herself into a fever." + +"She is doing that as it is," returned Harriet. "We might stay here, +of course--and we should get the place for an old song during the cold +months. Perhaps we had better do so. Yet I should like to have been in +Rome for the Christmas festivities, and for the carnival later." + +"We will go next Christmas instead," said Sir Sandy. + +As they had no children, they were not tied to their Scottish home, +and could lay their plans freely. It was decided to remain in the +château for the winter, and Sir Sandy began hammering at the doors and +windows. + +So they settled down contentedly enough; and, cold though it was, in +spite of the list and the hissing wood fires, which certainly gave out +more sparks than heat, Sir Sandy and his wife made the best of it. + +It was more than could be said of Lady Adela. She not only did not +make the best of things, but did not try to do so. Not that she +complained of the cold, or the heat, or appeared to feel either. All +seemed as one to her. + +Her room was large; its great old-fashioned sofa and its heavy +fauteuils were covered with amber velvet. Uncomfortable-looking +furniture stood about--mahogany tables and consoles with cold white +marble tops. The walls of the room were papered with a running +landscape, representing green plains, rivers, blue mountains, sombre +pine-trees, castles, and picturesque peasants at work in a vineyard. +In a recess, shut off with heavy curtains, stood the bed; it was, in +fact, a bedroom and sitting-room combined, as is so frequently the +case on the Continent. + +In a dress of black silk and crape, worn for Margery Upton, who had +died the day after Christmas-Day, Lady Adela sat in this room near the +crackling wood fire. January was wearing away. She leaned back in the +great yellow armchair in listless apathy, her wasted hands lying on +her lap, a warm cashmere shawl drawn round her, and two scarlet spots +on her once blooming-cheeks. The low fever, that, as predicted by Lady +Harriet weeks and weeks ago, she was fretting herself into, had all +too surely attacked her. And she had not seemed in the least to care +whether or not she died of it. + +"If I die, will my death be sudden?" she one day startled the Swiss +doctor by asking him. + +"You will not die, you will get well," replied Monsieur Le Brun. "If +you will only be reasonable, be it understood, and second our efforts +to make you so, by wishing for it yourself," he added. + +"I do wish it," she murmured; though her tone was apathetical enough. +"But I said to you, '_If_ I die,'--and I want the question answered, +sir. Would there be time to send for any friends from England that I +may wish to see?" + +"Ample time, miladi." + +"Harriet," she whispered to her sister that same night, "mind you send +for Mr. Grubb when I get into that state that I cannot recover--if I +do get into it. _Will you?_" + +"What next!" retorted Harriet. "Who says you will not recover?" + +"I could not die in peace without seeing my husband--without asking +for his forgiveness," pleaded the poor invalid, bitter tears of regret +for the past slowly coursing down her cheeks. "You will be sure to +send in time, won't you, Harriet?" + +"Yes, yes, I promise it," answered Harriet, humouring the fancy; and +she set herself to kiss and soothe her sister. + +Lady Harriet MacIvor, who resembled her mother more than any of the +rest, both in person and quickness of temper, had been tart enough +with Adela before the illness declared itself, freely avowing that she +had no patience with people who fretted themselves ill; but when the +fever had really come she became a tender and efficient nurse. + +The sickness and danger had passed--though of danger there had not +perhaps been very much--and Adela was up again. With the passing, Lady +Harriet resumed again her tendency to set the world and its pilgrims +right, especially Adela. January was now drawing to a close. + +The fever had left her very weak. In fact, it had not yet wholly taken +itself away. She would lie back in the large easy-chair, utterly +inert, day after day, recalling dreams of the past. Thinking of the +luxurious home she had lost, one that might have been all brightness; +picturing what she would do to render it so, were the opportunity +still hers. + +For hours she would lose herself in recollections of the child she had +lost; the little boy, George. A rush of fever would pass through her +veins as she recalled her behaviour at its baptism: her scornful +rejection of her husband's name, Francis; her unseemly interruption +from her bed to the clergyman that the name should be George. How she +yearned after the little child now! Had he lived--why surely her +husband would not have put her away from him! A man may not, and does +not, put away the mother of his child; it could never have been. Would +he have kept the child--or she? No, no; with that precious, living tie +between them, he could not have thrust his wife from him. Thus she +would lie, tormenting herself with deceitful fantasies that could +never be, and wake with a shudder to the miserable reality. + +Sufficient of the fever lingered yet to tinge with hectic her white +face, and to heat her trembling hands. But for one thought Adela would +not have cared whether she died or lived--at least, she told herself +so in her misery; and that thought was that, if she died, her husband +might take another wife. A wife who would give him back what she +herself had not given--love for love. Since Miss Upton, perhaps +unwittingly, had breathed that suggestion, it had not left Adela night +or day. + +How bitterly she regretted the past none knew, or ever would know. +During these weeks of illness, before the fever and since, she had had +leisure to dwell upon her conduct; to repent of it; to pray to Heaven +for pardon for it. The approach of possible death, the presence of +hopeless misery, had brought Adela to that Refuge which she had never +sought or found before, an ever-merciful God. Never again, even were +it possible that she should once more mingle with the world, could she +be the frivolous, heartless, unchristian woman she had been. Nothing +in a small way had ever surprised Lady Harriet so much, as to find +Adela take out her Bible and Prayer-book, and keep them near her. + +She sat today, buried as usual in the past, the bitter anguish of +remembrance rending her soul. We are told in Holy Writ that the heart +of man is deceitful and desperately wicked. The heart of woman is +undoubtedly contradictory. When Adela was Mr. Grubb's wife, she had +done her best to scorn and despise him, to persuade herself she hated +him: now that he was lost to her for ever, she had grown to love him, +passionately as ever man was loved by woman. The very fact that +relations between them could never be renewed only fostered this love. +For Lady Adela knew better than to deceive herself with vain hopes; +she knew that to cherish them would be the veriest mockery; that when +Francis Grubb threw her off, it was for ever. + +Many a moment did she spend now, regretting that she had not died in +the fever. It would at least have brought about a last interview; for +Harriet would have kept her word and sent for him. + +"Better for me to die than live," she murmured to herself, lifting her +fevered hand. "I could have died happily, with his forgiveness on my +lips. Whereas, to live is nothing but pain; weariness--and who knows +how many years my life will last?" + +Darvy came in; a tumbler in her hand containing an egg beaten up with +wine and milk. Darvy did not choose to abandon her mistress in her +sickness and misfortunes, but Darvy considered herself the most +ill-used lady's-maid that fate ever produced. Buried alive in this +dismal place in a foreign country, where the companions with whom she +consorted, the other domestics, spoke a language that was barbarous +and unintelligible, Darvy wondered when it would end. + +"I don't want it," said Adela, turning away. + +"But Lady Harriet says you must take it, my lady. You'll never get +your strength up, if you refuse nourishment." + +"I don't care to get my strength up. If you brought me some wine and +water, Darvy, instead, I could take that. Or some tea--or lemonade. I +am always thirsty." + +"And what good is there in tea or lemonade?" returned Darvy, who +ventured to contend now as she never had when her lady was in health, +coaxing her also sometimes as if she were a child. "Lady Harriet said +if you would not take this from me, my lady, she should have to come +herself. And she does not want to come; she's busy." + +To hear that Harriet was busy seemed something new. "What is she busy +about?" languidly asked Adela. + +"Talking," answered Darvy. "Some English traveller has turned out of +his way to call on her and Sir Sandy, my lady, and he is giving them +all the home news." + +"Oh," was the indifferent comment of Lady Adela. Home news was nothing +to her now. And, to put an end to Darvy's importunity, she drank the +refreshment without further objection. + + +Margery Upton had died and was buried; and her will, when it became +known, created a nine-days' wonder in London. Amidst those assembled +to hear its reading, the mourners, who had just returned from the +churchyard, none was more utterly astonished than Mr. Grubb. Never in +his whole life had such an idea--that he would be the inheritor of +Court Netherleigh--occurred to him. Miss Upton's statement of why it +was left to him, as explained by her by word of mouth to Mr. +Cleveland, was read out after the will; and Francis Grubb found a +private letter, written by her to himself, put into his hand. + +Lord Acorn was similarly astonished. Intensely so. But, in his +débonnaire manner, he carried it off with easy indifference, and did +not let his mortification appear. Perhaps he had not in his heart felt +so sure of Court Netherleigh as he had allowed the world to think: +Miss Upton's warnings might not have been quite lost upon him. Failing +himself, he would rather Francis Grubb had it than any one; there +might be no trouble about those overdue bonds; though Lord Acorn, +always sanguine, had not allowed himself to dream of such a +catastrophe as this. + +Perhaps the most unwelcome minor item in the affair to Lord Acorn was +having to carry the news home to his wife. It was evening when he +arrived there. He and Mr. Grubb had travelled up together: for the +easy-natured peer did not intend to show the cold shoulder to his +son-in-law because he had supplanted him. + +"Will you give me a bit of dinner, Frank?" asked the earl, as they got +into a cab together at the terminus, only too willing to put off the +mauvais quart d'heure with my lady as long as might be. + +"I will give it to you, and welcome, if there is any to be had," +smiled Mr. Grubb. "I left no orders for dinner today, not knowing +when I should be back." + +Alighting in Grosvenor Square, they found dinner prepared. Afterwards +Lord Acorn went home. His wife, attired in one of Madame Damereau's +best black silk gowns, garnished with a crape apron, was sitting in +the small drawing-room, all impatience. + +"Well, you _are_ late," cried she. "What can have kept you until now?" + +"It is only ten o'clock," replied the earl, drawing a chair to the +fire. "At work, Gracie!" he added, turning to his daughter, who sat at +the table, busy with her tatting. + +"Only ten o'clock!" snapped the countess. "I expected you at five or +six. And now--how are things left? I suppose we have Court +Netherleigh?" + +"Well, no; we have not," quietly replied Lord Acorn. + +"_Not!_" + +"Not at all. Grubb is made the heir. He has Court Netherleigh--and is +to take the name." + +Lady Acorn's face, in its petrified astonishment, its righteous +indignation, would have made a model for a painter. Not for a couple +of minutes did she speak, voice and words alike failed her. + +"The deceitful wretch!" broke from her at length. "To play the sneak +with Margery in that way!" + +"Don't waste your words, Betsy. Grubb knew nothing about it: is more +surprised than you are. Court Netherleigh was willed to him when +Margery first came into it; when he was a young lad. She only carried +out the directions of Sir Francis Netherleigh." + +Lady Acorn was beginning to breathe again. But she was not the less +angry. + +"I don't care. It is no better than a swindle. How _deceitful_ Margery +must have been!" + +"She kept counsel--if you mean that. As to being deceitful--no, I +don't see it. She never did, or would, admit that the estate would +come to us: discouraged the idea, in fact." + +"All the same, it is a frightful blow. We were _reckoning_ on it. Was +no one in her confidence?" + +"No one whatever except the old lawyer, Pencot. Two or three weeks +before she died she disclosed all to Cleveland in a confidential +interview. As it is not ourselves, I am heartily glad it's Grubb." + +"What has she done with all her accumulated money?" tartly went on her +ladyship. "She must have saved a heap of it, living in the quiet way +she did!" + +"Yes, there is a pretty good lot of that," equably replied the earl. +"It is left to one and another; legacies here, legacies there. I don't +come in for one." + +"No! What a shame!" + +"You do, though," resumed Lord Acorn, stretching out his boots to +catch the warmth of the fire. "You get ten thousand pounds." + +The words were to the countess as a very sop in the pan. Her fiery +face became a little calmer. + +"Are you sure?" she asked. + +"Quite sure," nodded the earl. "You don't get it, though, without +conditions. Only the interest for life; the sum itself then goes to +Grace, here. I congratulate you, Gracie, my dear." + +Grace let fall her shuttle; her colour rose. "Oh, papa! And--what do +my sisters have?" she added, ever, in her unselfishness, thinking of +others. + +"Mary, Harriet, and Frances have a thousand pounds each; Sarah and +Adela only some trinkets as a remembrance. I suppose Margery thought +they were well married, and did not require money." + +"And, papa, who else comes in?" asked Grace, glancing across at her +mother, who sat beating her foot on the carpet. + +"Who else? Let me see. Thomas Cleveland has two thousand pounds. And +Mrs. Dalrymple, the elder, has a thousand. And several of Margery's +servants are provided for. And I think that's about all I remember." + +"The furniture at Court Netherleigh?" interrupted Lady Acorn. "Who +takes that?" + +"Grubb; he takes everything belonging to the house and estate; +everything that was Sir Francis Netherleigh's. He is left residuary +legatee. Margery Upton has only willed away what was her own of +right." + +"As if he wanted it!" grumbled Lady Acorn. + +"The less one needs things, the more one gets them, as it seems to me. +The baronetcy is to be renewed in him, Betsy." + +"The baronetcy! In _him!_" + +"Sir Francis wished it. There won't be much delay in the matter, +either. Margery Upton put things in train for it before she died." + +Lady Acorn could only reply by a stare; and there ensued a pause. + +"The idiot that little minx Adela has shown herself!" was her final +comment. "Court Netherleigh, it seems, would have been hers." + + +The little minx Adela, wasting away with fever in her Swiss abode, +knew nothing of all this, and cared less. The barest items of news +concerning it came to the MacIvors; Grace wrote to Harriet to say that +Court Netherleigh had been willed to Mr. Grubb, not to her father; but +in that first letter she gave no details. That much was told to Adela. +She aroused herself sufficiently to ask who had Court Netherleigh, and +was told that Margery Upton had left it to Mr. Grubb. + +"I knew he was a favourite of hers," was all the comment she made; +and, but for the sudden flush, Lady Harriet might have thought the +news was perfectly indifferent to her: and she made no further +allusion to it, then or afterwards. + +But of the particulars, I say, Sir Sandy and Lady Harriet remained in +ignorance, for Grace did not write again. No one else wrote. And their +extreme surprise at Mr. Grubb's inheritance had become a thing of the +past, when one day a traveller, recently from England, found them out +and their old château. It was Captain Frederick Cust, brother to the +John Cust who stuttered. The Custs and the Acorns had always been very +intimate; the young Cust lads, there were six of them, and the Ladies +Chenevix had played and quarrelled together as boys and girls. Captain +Cust knew all about the Court Netherleigh inheritance, and supplied +the information lacking, until then, to Sir Sandy and Lady Harriet +MacIvor. No wonder Darvy had said that Lady Harriet was too busy to go +upstairs: she was as fond of talking as her mother. + +And so, the abuse they had been mutually lavishing upon Mr. Grubb in +private for these two or three past weeks they found to be unmerited. +He was the lucky inheritor, it is true, but through no complicity of +his own. + +"You might have known that," said Captain Cast, upon Lady Harriet's +candidly avowing this. "Grubb is the most honourable man living; he +would not do an underhand deed to be made king of England tomorrow. I +am surprised you could think it of him for a moment, Harriet." + +"Be quiet, Fred," she retorted. "It was not an unnatural thought. The +best of men will stretch a point when such a property as Court +Netherleigh is in question." + +"Grubb would not. And he could have bought such a place any day had he +a mind to do it." + +"And he is to take up the baronetcy! You are sure that is true?" + +"Sure and certain. And I wish him joy with all my heart! There's not +one of us in the social world but would welcome him into our order +with drums and trumpets." + +Lady Harriet laughed. "You are just the goose you used to be, Fred." + +"No doubt," assented Captain Frederick. "Where's the use of being +anything better in such a silly world as this? Your wife has always +paid me compliments, MacIvor, since the time we were in pinafores." + +"Just as she does me," nodded little Sir Sandy. "And how is Mr. +Grubb?--I liked him, too, captain. Does he still keep up that big +establishment in Grosvenor Square all for himself?" + +"Yes. Why shouldn't he? He is rich enough to keep up ten of them. By +the way, he is a member of Parliament now--do you know it? They've +returned him for Wheatshire." + +And thus the conversation continued. But we need not follow it. + +After Captain Cust left at night, for he stayed the day with them, +Lady Harriet sat in silent thought, apparently weighing some matter in +her mind. + +"Sandy," she said at length, looking across at him, "I don't think I +shall tell Adela anything about this--I mean that her husband is to +take the baronetcy. It will be better not." + +"Why?" asked Sir Sandy. + +"It will bring her past folly home to her so severely. It may bring +all the fever back again." + +"As you please, of course, dear. But she did not seem to care at all +when told he had inherited Netherleigh." + +"That's all you know about it, Sandy!" retorted Lady Harriet. "_I_ +saw--all the light in her eyes and the flush in her cheeks. I tell +you, sir, she is in love with her husband now, though she may never +have been before, and it will try her too greatly, in her weak state. +Her chief bone of contention in the old days was his name; that's +removed now. And she has forfeited that lovely place, Court +Netherleigh!" + +"You know best, my dear. Perhaps it will be kinder not to tell her. +But you will have to caution Darvy, and those about her: this is news +that will not rest in a nutshell. Though," remarked Sir Sandy, after a +pause, "with all deference to your superior judgment, Harriet, I do +not think she can care much more for her husband now than she cared of +old." + +"Listen, Sandy," was the whispered answer. "Yesterday evening at dusk +I went softly up to Adela's room, and peeped in to see whether she was +dozing. She sat in the firelight, her head bent over that little old +photograph she has of Mr. Grubb. Suddenly she gave a little cry, and +began raining tears and kisses upon it." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. +ADELA STARTLED. + + +In a small "appartement" in the Champs Elysées, so small, indeed, that +the whole of it could almost have been put into the salon of the +château in Switzerland, and in its small drawing-room sat Lady Harriet +MacIvor and Monsieur le Docteur Féron. Lady Adela sat in it also; but +she went for nobody now. It was a lovely April day; the sun shone +through the crimson draperies of the window, the flowers were budding, +the trees were already green. + +Monsieur le Docteur Féron and Lady Harriet were talking partly to, +partly _at_ Adela. Inert, listless, dispirited, she paid little or no +attention to either of them, or to anything they might choose to say: +life and its interests seemed to be no longer of moment to her. + +When we saw her in January she was recovering from the low fever. But +she did not grow strong. The fever subsided, but the weakness and +listlessness remained. Do what they would, the MacIvors could not +rouse her from her apathy. Sir Sandy tried reasoning and amusement; +Lady Harriet alternately soothed and ridiculed; Darvy, even, ventured +now and again on a good scolding. It was all one. + +That exposé the previous summer, when she was put away by her husband, +seemed to have changed Adela's very nature. At first her mood was +resentful; then it became repentant: that was succeeded by one of +heart-sickening remorse. Remorse for her own line of conduct during +the past years. With the low fever in Switzerland, she began to think +of serious things. The awakening to the responsibilities that lie upon +us to remember and prepare for a future and better state--an awakening +that comes to us all sooner or later, in a greater or a less +degree--came to Lady Adela. She saw what her past life had been, all +its mocking contempt for what was good, its supreme indifference, its +intense selfishness. Night by night, on her bended knees, amid sobs +and bitter tears, she besought forgiveness of the Most High. Her +cheeks turned red with shame whenever she thought of her kind and good +husband, and of how she had requited him. Lady Harriet was right too +in her surmise--that Adela had now grown to love her husband. How full +of contradictions this human heart of ours is, experience shows us +more surely day by day. When she could have indulged that love, she +threw it contemptuously from her; now that the time had gone by for +indulging it, it was becoming something like idolatry. + +Adela did not grow strong; perhaps, with this distressed frame of +mind, much improvement was not to be looked for. At length the +MacIvors grew alarmed, and resolved to take her to Paris for change +and for better advice. Contrary to expectation, Adela made no +objection; it seemed as though she no longer cared a straw where she +went, or what became of her. "If we offered to box her up in a coffin +and bury her for good and all, I don't believe she'd say no," said +Lady Harriet one day to the laird. To Paris they went, reaching it +during March, and Monsieur le Docteur Féron was at once called in, a +man of great repute amongst the English. It was now April, and +Monsieur le Docteur, with all his skill, had done nothing. + +"But truly there's no reason in it, miladi," he was saying this fine +day to Lady Harriet, in English, the language he generally chose to +use with his patients, however perfectly they might speak his own. +"Miladi Adela has nothing grave amiss with her; absolutely nothing. I +assert that to sit as she does has no reason, no common sense in it." + +"As I tell her continually," rejoined Lady Harriet, inwardly smiling +at his quaint phrases. + +"What illness she has, rests on the nerves," proceeded the doctor. "A +little on the mind. The earliest day I saw her I asked whether she did +have one great shock, or trouble: you remember, do you not, madame?" + +"But--good gracious!--one ought not to give way for ever to any shock +or trouble--even if one has had such a thing," remonstrated Lady +Harriet. + +"As I say. Can anything be more clear? Miladi has nothing to make her +ill, and yet miladi sits there, ill, day after day. You hear, madame?" +turning to Adela. + +"Oh yes, I hear," she gently answered, lifting her wan but still +lovely face for a moment and then letting it droop again. + +"And it is time to end this state of things," resumed the doctor to +Lady Harriet. "It must be finished, madame." + +"It ought to be," acquiesced Lady Harriet. "But if she does not end it +herself, how are we to do it?" + +"You go out, madame, with monsieur, your husband, into a little +society: is it not so?" spoke the doctor, after a pause of +consideration, during which he stroked his face with his gloved hand. + +"Of course we do, Monsieur Féron; we are not hermits, and Paris is gay +just now," quickly answered Lady Harriet. "We go to the Blunts' +tonight." + +"Then take her at once also; take her with you. That may be tried. If +it has no result, truly I shall not know what to propose. Drugs are +hopeless in a case like this," added the doctor, as he made two +elaborate bows, one to each lady, and went out. + +"Now, Adela, you hear," began Lady Harriet, the moment the door +closed, and her voice was sternly resolute. "We have tried everything, +and now we shall try this. You go with us to Mrs. Blunt's tonight." + +She did not refuse--wonderful to be able to say it. She folded her +hands upon her chest and sighed in resignation: too worn out to combat +longer: or, perhaps, too apathetical. + +"What is it, Harriet? Not a dinner-party?" + +"Oh dear, no. An evening party: a crowd, I dare say. Music, I think. +And now I shall go and talk to Darvy about what you are to wear," +concluded Lady Harriet, escaping from the room lest there should come +a tardy opposition. But no, Adela never made it. It seemed to her that +she was quite worn out with it all; with the antagonism and the +preaching, and the doctors and Harriet; wearied to death. Darvy +dressed her plainly enough; a black net robe with black trimmings; and +Lady Adela quietly submitted, saying neither yes nor no. + +"Don't let me be announced, Harriet," pleaded Adela, as they were +going along. "No one cares to hear my name now. I can creep in after +you and Sir Sandy." + +Mr. and Mrs. Blunt's house was small and their company large. Lady +Harriet expected a crowd, and she met with it. Adela, unannounced +according to her wish, shook hands with Mrs. Blunt, and escaped into a +small recess at the end of the further reception-room. It was draped +off by crimson-and-gold curtains, and she sat down, thankful to be +alone. She turned giddy: the noise, the lights, the crowd unnerved +her. It was so long now since she had mingled in anything of the sort. + +She sat on, and began thinking _when_ the last time had been. It came +into her memory with a rush. The last time she had made one in these +large gatherings was at her own home in Grosvenor Square, not very +many days before she finally left it. Ay, and the attendant +circumstances also came back to her, even to the words which had +passed between herself and her husband. In the bitter contempt she +cherished for him, she had not chosen to inform him of the assembly +she purposed having, but had sent out the cards unknown to him. He +knew nothing about it until the night arrived and he came home to +dinner. + +"What is the awning up for?" he asked of Hilson, wondering a little. + +"My lady has an assembly tonight, sir," was the answer. + +"A large one?" + +"Yes, sir." + +Mr. Grubb knitted his brow, and went on to his wife. It was not the +fact of the assembly that vexed him: it was that she had not thought +it worth her while to inform him of it. Darvy was putting the +finishing touches to her hair. How well she remembered it now; every +minute particular came back to her: where she sat in the room--not at +the dressing-glass as usual, but before the open window, for it was +intensely hot. Her robe was of costly white lace, adorned with pearls. +Pearls that he had given her. + +"What is this, Adela?" he had asked. "I hear you have a large assembly +tonight." + +"Well?" she retorted. + +"Could you not have told me?" + +"I did not see any especial necessity for telling you." + +"I might have had an engagement. In fact, I have one. I ought to go to +one of the hotels tonight to see a gentleman who has come over from +India on business." + +"You can go," was her scornful reply to this. "Your presence is not +needed here; it is not at all necessary to the success of the +evening." + +"There is one, at any rate, who would not miss me," had been his reply +as he left her, to go to his room to dress for dinner. Yes, it all +came back vividly tonight. + +She bent her face on her hand as she recalled this, hiding it in very +shame that she could have been so wicked. Lady Sarah Hope had once +told her the devil had got possession of her. "Not only the devil," +moaned Adela now, "but all his myrmidons." + +A lady was beginning to sing. She had a sweet and powerful voice, and +she chose a song Mr. Grubb used to be particularly fond of--"Robin +Adair." + +Adela looked beyond the draperies at the crowd, gathering itself up +for a momentary stillness, and disposed herself to listen. Her +thoughts were full of Mr. Grubb, as the verses went on. Every word +came home to her aching heart. + + + "But him I loved so well + Still in my heart doth dwell-- + Oh, I shall ne'er forget + Robin Adair." + + +Applause ensued. It was much better deserved than that usually +accorded in these cases. A minute later, and some one called out +"Hush!" for the lady had consented to sing again. The noise subsided +into silence; the singer was turning over the leaves of her +music-book. + +To this silence there arose an interruption. Mr. Blunt's English +butler appeared, announcing a late guest: + +"Sir Francis Netherleigh." + +The man had a low, sonorous voice, and every syllable penetrated to +Lady Adela's ear. The name struck on the chords of her memory. Sir +Francis Netherleigh! Why, he had been dead many a year. Could another +Sir Francis Netherleigh be in existence? What did it mean?--for it +must be remembered that all such news had been kept and was still kept +from her. Lady Adela gazed out from her obscure vantage-ground. + +Not for a minute or two did she see anything: the company was dense. +Then, threading his way through the line made for him, advanced a man +of noble form and face, the form and face of him she had once called +husband. + +He was in evening-dress, and in mourning. He seemed to be making +direct for the recess, and for Adela; and she shrank behind the +draperies to conceal herself. + +For a moment all things seemed to be in a mist, inwardly and +outwardly. What brought Mr. Grubb _there_--and who was the Sir Francis +Netherleigh that had been announced, and where was he? + +Not to Adela had he been advancing, neither did he see her. Mrs. Blunt +chanced to be standing before the recess; it was to her he was making +his way. + +"How do you do, Sir Francis?" she warmly exclaimed, meeting his hand. +"It is so good of you to come: my husband feared you would not be able +to spare the time." + +"I thought so also when I spoke to him this afternoon," was the +answer, given in the earnest pleasant tones Adela remembered so well. +"My stay in Paris is but for a few hours this time. Where is Mr. +Blunt?" + +"I saw him close by a minute ago. Ah, there he is. John," called Mrs. +Blunt, "here is Sir Francis Netherleigh." + +They moved towards the fireplace; the crowd closed behind them, hiding +them from sight, and Adela breathed again. So then, _he_ was Sir +Francis Netherleigh! How had it all come about? + +Gathering her shawl around her, she escaped from the recess and glided +through the room with bent head. In the outer room, opening to the +corridor and the staircase, she came upon her sister. + +"Harriet, I must go," she feverishly uttered. "I can't stay here." + +"Oh, indeed!" said Lady Harriet. "Well--I don't know." + +"If there's no carriage waiting, I can have a coach. Or I can walk. It +will do me no harm. I shall find my way through the streets." + +She ran down the stairs. Harriet felt obliged to follow her. "Will you +call up Sir Sandy MacIvor's carriage," asked Lady Harriet of the +servants standing below. "Adela, do wait an instant! One would think +the house was on fire." + +"I must get away," was the eager, terrified interruption, and Adela +bore onwards to the outer door. + +The carriage was called, and came up. In point of fact, Sir Sandy and +his wife had privately agreed to keep it waiting, in case Adela should +turn faint in the unusual scene and have to leave. In the porte +cochère they encountered a lady who was only then arriving. + +"What, going already!" she exclaimed. + +"Yes," replied Lady Harriet; "and I wish you would just tell Sir Sandy +for me: you will be sure to see him somewhere in the rooms. Say my +sister does not feel well, and we have gone home." + +They passed out to the carriage and were soon bowling along the +streets. Adela drew into her corner, cowering and shivering. + +"Did you see him?" she gasped. + +"Oh yes, I saw him," grumblingly responded Lady Harriet, who was not +very pleased at having to quit the gay scene in this summary fashion. +"I am sure Sandy will conclude we have been spirited away, unless Mrs. +Seymour finds him. A fine flurry he'll be in." + +"Harriet, what did it mean? They called him Sir Francis Netherleigh." + +"He is Sir Francis Netherleigh." + +"Since when? Why did you not tell me?" + +"He has been Francis Netherleigh since Aunt Margery died: the name +came to him with the property. He has been Sir Francis since--oh, for +about six weeks now. The old Uncle Francis wished the baronetcy to be +revived in him, and his wishes have been carried out." + +Adela paused, apparently revolving the information. "Then his name is +no longer Grubb?" + +"In one sense, no. For all social uses that name has passed from him." + +"Why did you never tell me this?" repeated Adela. + +"From the uncertainty as to whether you would care to hear it, Adela. +We decided to say nothing until you were stronger." + +A second pause of thought. "If he has succeeded to the name, why, so +have I. Have I not? Though he puts me away from himself, Harriet, he +cannot take from me his name." + +"Of course you have succeeded to it." + +Pause the third. "Then I ought to have been announced tonight as Lady +Adela Netherleigh!" + +"Had you been announced at all. You solved the difficulty, you know, +by telling me you would not be announced--you would creep in after me +and Sandy." + +"What difficulty?" + +"Well, had you heard yourself called Netherleigh, you would have +wanted to know, there and then, the why and the wherefore. It might +have created a small commotion." + +Pause the fourth. "Who is he in mourning for? Aunt Margery?" + +"And also for his mother. Mrs. Lynn lived just long enough to see him +take up the baronetcy. I think it must have gratified her--that her +son should be the one to succeed at last. _She_ would have had Court +Netherleigh in the old days, Adela, had she not displeased Uncle +Francis by her marriage, not Margery Upton. He told Margery so when he +was dying." + +"The world seems full of changes," sighed Adela. + +"It always was, and always will be. But I fancy the right mostly comes +uppermost in the end," added Lady Harriet. "Where is Mary Lynn, you +ask? She lives with Sir Francis, in Grosvenor Square; the house's +mistress." + +Adela ceased her questioning. Amidst the many items for reflection +suggested to her by the news, was this: that the once-hated name of +Grubb had been suppressed for ever. There flashed across her a +reminiscence of a day in the past autumn, when she was last staying at +Court Netherleigh. She had been giving some scorn to the name, after +her all-frequent custom, and Miss Upton had answered it with a +peculiar look. Adela did not then understand the look: she did now. +That expressive look, had she been able to read it, might have told +her that Mr. Grubb would not long retain the name. Adela shrank closer +into the corner of the carriage and pressed her hands upon her burning +eyes. Foolish, infatuated woman that she had been! + +"Did you notice how noble he looked tonight?" she murmured, after +awhile. + +"He always did look noble, Adela. Here we are." + +The carriage drew up. As Lady Harriet, after getting out herself, +turned to give her hand to Adela, still weak enough to require +especial care, she did not find it responded to. + +"Are you asleep, Adela? Come. We are at home." + +"I beg your pardon," was the meek answer. + +She had only been waiting to stem the torrent of tears flowing forth. +Lady Harriet saw them glistening on her wasted cheeks by the light of +the carriage-lamps. Bitter tears, telling of a breaking heart. + +"Sandy," observed Lady Harriet to her husband that night, "I do not +see that a further stay here will be of any use to Adela. We may as +well be making preparations for our journey to the Highlands." + +"Just as you please," acquiesced Sir Sandy. "I, you know, would rather +be in the Highlands than anywhere else. Fix your own time." + +"Then we will start next week," decided Lady Harriet. But we must +revert for a few moments to Sir Francis Netherleigh before closing the +chapter. + +His stay in Paris, a matter of business having taken him there, was +limited to some four-and-twenty hours. Upon reaching Calais on his +return homewards, he found one of the worst gales blowing that Calais +had ever known, and he was greeted with the news that not a boat could +leave the harbour. All he could do was to go to an hotel, Dessin's, +and make himself comfortable until the morrow. Late in the afternoon +he strolled out to take a look at the raging sea, and found it was +with difficulty he could struggle against the wind. In returning, he +was blown against a gentleman, or the gentleman against him; the two +laughed, began an apology, and then simultaneously shook hands--for it +was Gerard Hope. Sir Francis Netherleigh's heart went out in +compassion; Gerard was looking so thin and careworn. + +"Come to my hotel and dine with me, Gerard," he said impulsively. And +Gerard went. + +After dinner, they left the table d'hôte for a private room, to which +a bottle of choice claret was ordered. Talking together of past times, +the subject of the lost bracelet came up. Sir Francis, listening +attentively to what Gerard said, looking at him keenly as he said it, +drew the absolute conclusion that Gerard was not the thief: he was +quick at distinguishing truth from falsehood. + +"Gerard," he quietly asked, "why have you remained so long abroad? It +bears a look, you see, to some people, that you are afraid to come +back and face the charge." + +"It's not that," returned Gerard. "What I can't face is my body of +creditors. They would pretty soon lay hold of me, if I went over. As +to the other affair, what could I do in it? Nothing. My uncle will +never believe me not guilty; and I could not prove that I am +innocent." + +"Fill your glass, Gerard. How much do you owe?" + +"Well, it must be as much, I'm afraid, as five hundred pounds." + +"Is that all?" spoke Sir Francis, rather slightingly. + +Gerard laughed. "Not much to many a man; but a very great deal to a +poor one. I don't know that I should be much better off at home than +here," he added in a thoughtful tone. "So long as that bracelet affair +lies in doubt, the world will look askance at me: and I expect it will +never be cleared up." + +"It was a most singular thing, quite a mystery, as Lady Sarah always +calls it. I suppose you have no suspicion yourself, Gerard, as to the +culprit." + +"Why, yes, I have, unfortunately." + +Sir Francis caught at the words. "Who was it?" + +Gerard Hope's pale face, so much paler than of yore, turned red. But +that he had been in a reverie he would not have made the unguarded +admission. + +"I am sorry to have said so much, Sir Francis," he avowed hastily. "It +is true that a doubt lies on my mind; but I ought not to have spoken +of it." + +"Nay, but you may trust me, Gerard." + +"I don't like to," hesitated Gerard. "It was of a lady. And perhaps I +was mistaken." + +"Not Alice herself," cried Sir Francis, jestingly. + +"No, no. I--think--Alice--holds--the--same--suspicion," he added, with +a pause between each word. + +"You had better trust me, Gerard. No harm shall come of it, to you or +to her; I promise you that." + +"I thought," breathed Gerard, "it was Selina Dalrymple." + +"Selina Dalrymple!" echoed Sir Francis, utterly surprised. "Since when +have you thought that?" + +"Ever since." + +"But why?" + +"Well, partly because no one but myself and Selina went into the room; +and I know that it was not I who took it. And partly because her visit +to the house that evening was kept secret. Her name, as I dare say you +know, was never spoken of at all in connection with the matter. Alice +did not say she had been there, and of course I did not." + +"But how do you know she was there?" + +"I opened the door to her. As I left that back-room where the jewels +lay upon the table, I looked round to speak to Alice, and I saw that +self-same glistening bracelet lying on the table behind the others. I +did not return into the room at all; what I had to say to Alice I said +with the door in my hand. Upon opening the front-door, to let myself +out, there stood Selina Dalrymple, about to ring. She asked for Alice, +and ran upstairs to her quietly, as if she did not want to be heard. +That Selina went into the room where the jewels were and admired them, +Alice casually said to me when we met in the street next day. But her +visit was never spoken of in the house, as far as I know." + +Sir Francis made no remark. Gerard went on. + +"In the first blush of the loss, I should as soon have suspected +myself as Selina Dalrymple; sooner perhaps: but when it came to +be asserted at the investigation that no other person whatever had +been in the room than myself, excepting Alice, I could not see the +reason of that assertion, and the doubt flashed upon me. For one +thing"--Gerard dropped his voice--"we learnt how terribly hard-up poor +Selina was just then. Worse than I was." + +"I am very sorry to have heard this, Gerard," said Sir Francis, +perceiving at once how grave were the grounds for suspicion. "Poor +Selina, indeed! It must never transpire; it would kill Oscar. At +heart, he is fond of her as ever." + +"Of course it must not transpire," assented Gerard. "I have never +breathed it, until now, to mortal man. But it has made things harder +for me, you see." + +"It was said at the time, I remember, that you denied the theft in a +half-hearted manner. Lady Sarah herself told me that. This suspicion +trammelled you?" + +"To be sure it did. I vowed to them I did not take the bracelet, but +in my fear of directing doubts to Selina, I was not as emphatic +as I might have been. I felt just as you express it, Sir +Francis--trammelled. And I fear," went on Gerard, after a pause, "that +this same suspicion has been making havoc with poor Alice's heart and +health. When I receive a letter from Frances, as I do now and then, +she is sure to lament over Alice's low spirits and her increasing +illness." + +Francis Netherleigh sat thinking. "It seems to me, Gerard," he +presently said, "that you are being punished unjustly. You ought to +return to England." + +"Ah, but I can't," answered Gerard, shaking his head. "The sharks +would be on to me. Before I could turn round I should be lodged in the +Queen's Bench." + +"No, no; not if they saw you wished to pay them later, and that there +was a fair probability of your doing so." + +"My wish is good enough. As to the probability--it is nowhere." + +"Creditors are not as hard as they are sometimes represented, Gerard. +I can assure you of that. I have always found them reasonable." + +Gerard laughed outright. "I dare _say_ you have, Sir Francis. It would +be an odd creditor that would be hard to you." + +"Ah, but I meant when I have dealt with them for other people," +replied Sir Francis, joining in the laugh. + +"And if I did get back to London, I should have nothing to live upon," +resumed Gerard. "The pittance that I half starve upon in these cheap +places, I might wholly starve upon there. I often wish I could get +employed as a clerk; no one but myself knows how thankful I should be. +But with this other thing hanging over my head, who'd give me a +recommendation, and who'd take me without one!" + +"Well, well, we will see, Gerard. It is a long lane that has no +turning." + +They talked yet further, and then Gerard said good-night. And in the +morning Sir Francis Netherleigh heard the welcome tidings that the +wind had gone down sufficiently to allow the mail-packet to venture +out. So he went in her to England. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. +DESPAIR. + + +The year had gone on, and the season was at its height. In the +breakfast-room at Sir Francis Netherleigh's house in Grosvenor Square +sat his sister, waiting to pour out the coffee. Ah, how different +things were from what they had been in his wife's time! Then he had to +wait upon himself at breakfast, often to take it alone; now he always +found his sister down before him. + +Mary Lynn was good-looking as ever, her wonderful grey eyes, as Miss +Upton used to call them, were not a whit less beautiful; but the mirth +of early days had given place to a calm, sad seriousness. It could be +seen that some great sorrow had passed over her heart and left its +traces there for ever. Just now, as she laid down a letter she had +been reading, her face wore an especial air of sadness, somewhat of +perplexity. Sir Francis entered. + +"I have a letter from Netherleigh, Francis, from Alice Dalrymple," +began Mary, after they had said good-morning. "Mrs. Dalrymple has met +with an accident, and--but I will read you what she says," she broke +off, taking up the letter. + +"'Selina was driving mamma in a borrowed pony-chaise yesterday; the +pony took fright at a passing caravan--a huge thing, Selina says, +covered with brooms and baskets and shining tins--ran away, and +overturned the chaise. Selina was not hurt, she never is; but mamma +has received, it is feared, some internal injury. She asks if you will +come down to her, dear Mary. Lose no time; you know how she values +you!'" + +"Selina was driving carelessly, I expect," observed Sir Francis. + +"Of course I will go down. But it cannot be today, Francis?" + +"Not very well," he answered, as he took his cup of coffee from her +hand. "What should I do with the crowd, coming here tonight, without +a hostess to receive them?" + +For Sir Francis Netherleigh had bidden the great world to his house +that evening. Such invitations from him were rare. This was the first +he had given since his wife's departure and his mother's death. + +"True," observed Mary, in answer. "And you also expect that gentleman +and his wife, who are just home from India, to lunch here today. +Then I will write to Alice, and tell her I cannot be with her until +tomorrow. Her mother is not so ill, I trust, as to make a day's delay +of moment. Perhaps you will go down with me, Francis?" + +"If I can. I know I am wanted at Court Netherleigh." + +"That is settled, then. And now tell me, will the Hopes also be here +at luncheon?" + +"Yes, I asked them last night to meet the Didnums. As I told you, +Mary, the Hopes and the Didnums were great friends out in India." + +Although Francis Netherleigh had put away his wife, the intimate +relations that had existed between himself and her family had not been +interrupted. He was sometimes at Lord Acorn's and at Colonel Hope's, +and they were often with him. Mr. Didnum, the head of a great +mercantile house in Calcutta, in constant correspondence with that of +Christopher Grubb and Son in London, was an old friend of Colonel +Hope, and they were now about to meet at luncheon in Grosvenor Square. + +Breakfast over, Sir Francis Netherleigh went to Leadenhall Street as +usual, returning in time to receive his visitors. + +Frances Chenevix, staying with her sister, Lady Sarah Hope, made one +of the party. "I don't know whether I am expected or whether I am not, +but I shall go," she remarked to Lady Sarah, in her careless fashion. +And she went, and was warmly welcomed. Every one liked gay-hearted +Frances Chenevix. + +The luncheon had been over some little time, and they were all talking +together with interest, when a telegram was brought in for Miss Lynn. +It proved to be from the Rector of Netherleigh, the Reverend Thomas +Cleveland. + +"Mrs. Dalrymple has undergone an operation, and is in a very exhausted +condition. Come to her at once. I am sending also to Leadenhall Street +to your brother. She is asking for him." + +Such a message creates confusion. Sir Francis looked to ascertain at +what time they were likely to find a train to carry them to +Netherleigh, and found they could just catch one if they started at +once. A servant was sent for the fleetest-looking cab he could find; +there was no time to get the carriage round. + +Mary Lynn was already seated in the cab, and Sir Francis was shaking +hands with Colonel Hope, who had come out to the door, when he +remembered the guests bidden to his house that night. It caused him to +pause. + +"You must stay and receive them for me, colonel: be host in my place, +and your wife hostess, if she will be so good," he hastily decided. +"Explain to every one how it is: dying wishes must be attended to, you +know: and my getting back is, I dare say, out of the question." + +"All right," answered Colonel Hope. "Don't wait, or you will lose your +train." + +The colonel returned indoors, went back to the dining-room and told +his wife what was required of them. Lady Sarah stared in perplexity. + +"Receive the people tonight in his place! Why, we cannot do so, +colonel. Did you forget that we dine with those people at Hounslow? +It's hard to say at _what_ time we shall get back." + +Colonel Hope looked a little perplexed too. "I did forget it," he said +in his solemn way. "What is to be done?" + +"Let mamma be here early and receive them," suggested Lady Frances. "I +will help her." + +It was an excellent solution of the difficulty. Mr. and Mrs. Didnum +took their departure; and Lady Sarah Hope, accompanied by Frances, +entered her carriage and ordered it to Chenevix House. The colonel +walked away to his club. + +Lady Acorn was alone when they entered. She listened to the news her +daughters told her of her son-in-law's being summoned away, and of the +request that she would take his place that night, and receive his +guests. + +"I suppose I must," said she, in her tart way; "but I shall have to +get round to Grosvenor Square at an inconveniently early hour. +Something is sure to happen when you want things to go particularly +smoothly. And now--who do you suppose is here?" continued Lady Acorn. + +"How can we tell, mamma?" cried Frances, before Sarah had time to +speak. "Mary?" + +"No; Adela." + +"_Adela!_" + +The countess nodded. "She and MacIvor arrived here this morning by the +Scotch mail. Sandy had an unexpected summons to London, from the +lawyers who are acting for him in the action about that small property +he lays claim to; and when he was starting from home, nothing would do +for Adela, it seems, but she must accompany him." + +"Has Harriet come also?" asked Lady Sarah. + +"No. Sandy goes back in a day or two." + +"And Adela? Does she return with him?" + +"_I_ don't know. Sir Sandy says she seems miserable with them, and he +thinks she will be miserable everywhere." + +"Where is she?" asked Frances. + +"Upstairs somewhere: Grace is with her. Grace pities and soothes her +just as though she were a martyr--instead of a silly woman who has +wilfully blighted her own happiness in life, and entailed no end of +anxiety on us all." + +After their short stay in Paris in the spring, where we last saw Lady +Adela, the MacIvors went straight to Scotland, avoiding London and the +cost that would have attended a London season, which they could ill +afford. Adela also shrank from that; she would have left them had they +sojourned in the metropolis. They took up their abode in the +Highlands, in the old castle that was the paternal stronghold of the +MacIvors, which was utterly bleak, dull, and remote; and, here, for +the past three months, Adela had been slowly dying of remorse. + +No wonder. Her mind, her whole being, so to say, was filled with the +image of her husband; with the longing only to see him; with the +bitter, unavailing remorse for the past. That one solitary sight of +him, in Paris at Mrs. Blunt's, had revived within her the pain and +excitement, which had been previously subsiding into a sort of dull +apathy. The château in Switzerland had been, as a residence, lonely +and wearisome; it was nothing, in those respects, compared with this +old castle of Sir Sandy's. At least, Adela, found it so. In fact, she +did not know what she wanted. She shrank from even the bare suggestion +of publicity, and she shrank from solitude. She felt herself in the +position of one whose whole interest in life has departed while yet a +long life lies before her: the saddest of all sad positions, and the +most rare. + +Was it to continue so for ever and for ever? Yes, she would wail out +in answer, when asking herself the question: at least, as long as time +should last. For there could be no change in it. She had forfeited all +possibility of that. The lone, miserable woman that she was now, must +she remain to the end. + +She wondered sometimes whether any one ever died of repentance and +regret. Existence was becoming all but unendurable. When she opened +her weary eyelids to the dawn of a new day she would moan out a faint +prayer that God in His compassion would help her to get through it, +and would bury her face in the pillow, wishing she could so bury +herself and her misery. + +It must not be thought she was encouraged in this state of mind. Lady +Harriet MacIvor had become intolerably cross about it long ago, openly +telling Adela she had no patience with her. From her Adela received no +sympathy whatever. Look where she would, not a gleam of brightness +shone for her. Sick at heart, fainting in spirit, it seemed to Adela +that any change would be welcome; and when Sir Sandy received a letter +one morning, telling him his presence was needed in London, and he +announced his intention of starting that same day, Adela said she +should go with him. + +Lady Harriet did not oppose it. In truth, it brought her relief. Adela +was becoming more of a responsibility day by day; and she had held +some anxious conferences with her husband as to the expediency of +their resigning charge of her. + +"It is the best thing that could have happened, Sandy," she said to +him in private. "Take her over to mamma, and tell her everything. I +think they had better keep her themselves for a time." + +Hence the unexpected irruption of the travellers at Chenevix House. +Lady Acorn was not pleased. Not that she was sorry to see Adela once +more; but she had lived in a chronic state of anger with her since the +separation, and the accounts written to her from time to time by her +daughter Harriet in no way diminished it. + +After the briefest interview with her mother, Adela escaped to the +chamber assigned her; the one she used to occupy. This left Sir Sandy +free to open the budget his wife had charged him with, and to say that +for the present he and Harriet would rather not continue to have the +responsibility of Adela. Lady Acorn, as she listened, audibly wished +Adela was a child again, that she might "have the nonsense shaken out +of her." + +Lady Sarah Hope raised her condemnatory shoulders, as her mother +related this. She had never had the slightest sympathy with the +trouble Adela had brought upon herself, or with the remorse it +entailed. + +"Will you see her, Sarah?" asked Lady Acorn. + +"No; I would rather not. At least, not today. I must be going +shortly." + +Poor Adela! True, she had been guilty of grievous offences, but they +had brought their punishment. As we sow, so do we generally reap. This +return to her mother's home seemed to bring back all the past sin, all +the present anguish, in colours tenfold more vivid. + +Kneeling on the floor in the bedroom, her hands clasped round Grace's +knees as she sat, Adela sobbed out her repentance, her hopeless +longings for the life and the husband she had thrown away. + +"Poor child!" sighed Grace, her own tears falling as she stroked with +a gentle hand her unhappy sister's hair, "your sorrow is, I see, hard +to bear. If I only knew how to comfort you!" + +No answer. + +"Still, Adela, although he is yet, in one sense of the word, your +husband, it is not well for you to indulge these thoughts; these +regrets. Were there even the most distant hope that things between you +would alter, it would be different; but I fear there is none." + +"I know it," bewailed Adela. "What he did, he did for ever." + +"Then you should no longer, for your own peace' sake, dwell upon his +memory. Try and forget him. It seems curious advice, Adela, but I have +none better to give." + +"I cannot forget him. My dreams by night, my thoughts by day, are of +him, of him alone. If I could only be with him for just one week of +reconciliation, to show him how I would, if possible, atone to him, to +let him see that my repentance is lasting, though he put me away again +at the week's end, it would be something. Oh, Grace, you don't know +what my remorse is--how hard a cross I have to bear." + +She knelt there in her bitter distress. Not much less distressing was +it to Grace. By dint of coaxing, Adela was at length partially calmed, +and lay back, half-exhausted, in an easy-chair. + +At lunch-time, for this had occurred in the morning, she refused to go +down, or to take anything. In the afternoon, when Grace was back +again, Darvy brought up a cup of chocolate and some toast. Whilst +languidly taking this, Adela abruptly renewed the subject: the only +one, as she truly said, that ever occupied her mind. + +"Do you see him often, Grace?" + +"Rather often," replied Grace, knowing that the question must refer to +Sir Francis. + +"He is friendly with you, then?" + +"Quite so. The friendship has never been interrupted. We are going to +his house tonight," she added, perhaps incautiously. + +"To Grosvenor Square?" cried Adela. + +"Yes. I think it is the first entertainment he has given since you +left it. Half London will be there." + +"If I could only go!" exclaimed Adela, a light rising in her eye, a +flush to her pale cheek. Grace looked at her in surprise; she had +forfeited the right ever to enter there. Grace made no comment, and a +pause ensued. + +"Did you read the speech he made last Thursday night to the Commons?" +resumed Adela, in a low tone. + +"Yes. Every one was talking of it. Did _you_ read it, Adela?--in +Scotland?" + +Grace received no answer. Sir Sandy below could have told her that +Adela used to seize upon the _Times_, when it arrived, with feverish +interest, to see whether any speech of her husband's was reported in +it. If so, Sir Sandy's belief was that she learnt it by heart, so long +did she keep the paper. + +The chocolate finished, she lay back in the chair, her eyes looking +into vacancy, her listless hands folded before her. Grace, sitting +opposite, ostensibly occupied with some work, for she was rarely idle, +had leisure to note her sister's countenance. It was much changed. +Worn, wan, and weary it looked, but there was no special appearance +now of ill health. + +"You are much better, are you not, Adela?" + +"Oh, I am very well," was the languid answer. + +"Do you like Scotland?" + +"I don't know." + +Grace thought she was tired after the night journey, and resolved to +leave her to silence; but an interruption occurred. Frances came in. + +And, that Frances Chenevix could be melancholy for more than a minute +at any time, was not to be expected. In spite of Adela's evidently +subdued state of mind, she, after a few staid sentences, ran off at a +gay tangent. + +"What do you think, Grace?" she began. "We had very nearly lost our +party tonight--one, Adela, that your whilom husband gives. He and his +sister have been telegraphed for this afternoon to Netherleigh. Poor +Mrs. Dalrymple has met with some serious accident; there has been an +operation, and the result is, I suppose, uncertain. They have both +started by train, and therefore cannot be at home to receive the +people tonight." + +"Is the party put off, then?" questioned Grace. + +"No, there was not time to do it: how could he send round to all the +world and his wife? It is to take place without him, mamma playing +host in his absence." + +"I wonder what Mrs. Dalrymple could want with him?" + +"Just what I wondered, Grace. Mamma thinks it must be to speak to him +about her affairs. He is her executor, I believe: not, poor woman, +that she has much to leave." + +Adela had listened to this in silence: an eager look was dawning on +her face. + +"Do you mean to say, Frances, that he--that my husband--will not be +there at all?--in his own house?" + +"To be sure I mean it, Adela. He cannot be in two places at once, here +and Netherleigh. He and Mary Lynn have only now started on their way +there. I tell mamma that whilst she plays host I shall play hostess. +Won't it be fun!" + +"Grace," began Adela very quietly, after her sisters had left, for +Lady Sarah, thinking better of it, came up to see her for a moment, "I +shall go with you tonight." + +"Go--where did you say?" questioned Grace, in doubt. + + "To my husband's +house." + +Grace dropped her work in consternation. "You cannot mean it, Adela." + +"I do mean it. I shall go." + +"Oh, Adela, pray consider what you are saying. Go _there_. Why, you +know that you must not do so." + +"It was my house once," said Adela, in agitation. + +"But it is yours no longer. Pray consider. Of all people in the world, +you must not attempt to enter it. It would be unseemly." + +Adela burst into tears. "If you knew--if you knew how I long for a +sight of it, Gracie," she gasped, "you would not deny me. Only just +one little look at it, Grace! What can it matter? _He_ is not there." + +How Grace would have contrived to combat this wish, cannot be told: +but Lady Acorn came in. In answer to her questioning as to what Adela +was crying about now, Grace thought it well to tell her. + +"Oh," said the countess, receiving the affair lightly, for she did not +suppose Adela could be serious. "Go _there_, would you! What would the +world say, I wonder, if they met Lady Adela Netherleigh at that house? +Don't be silly, child." + +What indeed! Adela sighed and said no more. Yet, she did so want to +go. Lying back in her chair, her thoughts busy with the past and +present, the longing took a terrible hold upon her. + +She dressed, but did not go down to dinner, refusing that meal as she +had refused luncheon. Lady Acorn went straight from the dinner-table +to Grosvenor Square, calling on her way at Colonel Hope's for her +daughter Frances, as had been arranged. Grace, who did not care to +leave Adela alone for too long an evening, would go later with Sir +Sandy. She hastened to dress, not having done so before dinner, and +then went to her sister's room to remain with her to the last moment. + +But when Grace got there, she found, to her dismay, that Adela _was +prepared to go also_. Her fan lay on the table, her gloves beside it. + +"Adela, indeed you must not go!" decisively spoke Grace. "Only think +how--I said it this afternoon--_unseemly_ it will be." + +"If you only knew how I am yearning for it," came the piteous +reiteration, and Adela entwined her wasted arms entreatingly about her +sister. "My own home once, Gracie, my own home once! I seem to be +dying for a sight of it." + +Never had Grace felt so perplexed, rarely so distressed. "Adela, I +_dare_ not sanction it; dare not take you. What would be said and +thought? Mamma----" + +"You need not take me; I don't wish to get you into trouble with +mamma. Darvy can tell them to get a cab. Grace, you have no right to +oppose me," went on Adela, in low, firm tones; "what right can you +have? My husband will not be there, and I must see my old home. It may +be the last time I shall have the chance of it." + +Sir Sandy's step was heard outside in the corridor, passing to his +chamber. Grace opened the door, and told him of the trouble. He put +his little head inside and said a few words to Adela in his mild way, +begging her not to attempt to go; and then went on to his room. + +"I must go, Gracie; I _must_ go! Grace, don't look harshly at me, for +I am very miserable." + +What was Grace to do? A little more combating, and she yielded in very +helplessness. The conviction lay upon her that if she refused to the +end, Adela would certainly go alone. When an ardent desire, such as +this, takes possession of one weakened in spirit and in health, it +assumes the form of a fever that must have its course. + +The contention delayed them, and it was late when they went down to +the carriage. Little Sir Sandy took his seat opposite Grace and Adela. + +"I wash my hands of it," he said, amiably. "Do not let your mother put +the blame of it upon me, Lady Adela, and tell me I ought not to have +brought you." + +A few minutes, and the carriage stopped in Grosvenor Square. Other +guests were entering the house at the same moment. Adela shrank +behind Grace and Sir Sandy, and was not observed in the crowd. Her +dress was black net, as it had been at Mrs. Blunt's, though she was +not in mourning now; she kept her thin black burnous cloak on and held +it up to her face as she passed close to Hilson. The man stepped back +in astonishment, recollected himself, and saluted her with an +impassive face. + +Keeping in the shade as much as was possible, shrinking into corners +to avoid observation, Adela lost the others. She heard their names +shouted out in a louder voice than Hilson's, "Lady Grace Chenevix and +Sir Sandy MacIvor," and she lingered behind looking about her. + +How painful to her was the sight of the old familiar spots! She turned +into a small niche and halted there; her heart was beating too +painfully to go on, her breath had left her. No, she should not be +able to carry out this expedition; she saw now how wrong and foolish +it had been to attempt it; she had put herself into a false position, +and she felt it in every tingling vein. + +Just one peep she would give at the drawing-rooms above. Just one. No +one would notice her. Amidst the crowds pressing in she should escape +observation. One yearning look, and then she would turn back and +escape the way she came. + +Three or four persons in a group, strangers to her, were passing +upwards. Adela glided on behind them. Their names were shouted out as +her sister's and Sir Sandy's had been; as others were; and she stole +after them, within the portals. + +But only to steal back again. Nay, to start back. For a +too-well-remembered voice had greeted the visitors: "I am so glad to +see you," and a tall, distinguished form stood there with outstretched +hands: the voice and form of her husband. Later, she knew how it was. +The faintness succeeding to the operation (a very slight one), which +had alarmed Mrs. Dalrymple herself, and also the surgeon and the +Rector, had passed off, and she was really in no danger. So that when +Sir Francis learnt this on his arrival at Netherleigh, he found +himself at liberty to return. + +Feeling as if she must die in her agony of shame, shame at her +unwarrantable intrusion, which the unexpected sight of her husband +brought home to her, Adela got down the stairs again unseen and +unnoticed, and encountered Hilson in the hall. + +"Can I do anything for you, my lady?--can I get you anything?" he +asked, his tone betraying his compassion for her evident sickness. + +"Yes," she said, "yes. I want to go home; I find I am not well enough +to remain: perhaps one of the carriages outside would take me?" + +"Can I assist you, Lady Adela?" said a voice at her side, from one who +was then entering and had overheard the colloquy: and Adela turned to +behold Gerard Hope. + +"Is it you?" she faintly cried. "I thought you were abroad, Gerard. +Are you making one of the crowd here tonight?" + +"Not as a guest. These grand things no longer belong to me. I am in +England again, and at work--a clerk in your husband's house, Lady +Adela; and I have come here tonight to see him on a pressing matter +of business." + +Hilson managed it all. An obliging coachman, then setting down his +freight, was only too willing to take home a sick lady. Gerard Hope +and Hilson both went out with her. + +"Don't say to--to any one--that I came, Hilson," she whispered, as she +shrank into a corner of the carriage: and Hilson discerned that by +"any one" she must especially mean Sir Francis Netherleigh. + +"You may depend upon me, my lady. Chenevix House," he added to the +friendly coachman: and closed the door on the unhappy woman who was +once his master's indulged and idolized wife. + +"How she is changed!" thought Gerard, gazing after the carriage as it +bowled away. "Hilson," he said, turning to the butler, "I must see +your master for a minute or two. Have you any room that you can put me +into, away from this crowd?" + +"There's the housekeeper's parlour, sir: if you don't mind going +there. It's quite empty." + +"All right, Tell Sir Francis I bring a note from Mr. Howard. Something +important, I believe." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. +ON LADY LIVINGSTONE'S ARM. + + +The stately rooms were thrown open for the reception of the guests, +and the evening was already waning. Wax-lights innumerable shed their +rays on the gilded decorations, the exquisite paintings, the gorgeous +dresses of the ladies; the enlivening strains of the band invited to +the dance, and rare exotics shed forth a sweet perfume. Admission to +the residence of Sir Francis Netherleigh was coveted by the gay world. + +"There's a tear!" almost screamed a pretty-looking girl. By some +mishap in the dancing-room her partner had contrived to put his foot +upon her thin white dress, and the bottom of the skirt was half torn +away. + +"Quite impossible than I can finish the quadrille," quoth she, half in +amusement, half provoked at the misfortune. "You must find another +partner whilst I go and have this repaired." + +It was Frances Chenevix. By some neglect, no maid was at the moment in +attendance upstairs; and Frances, in her impatience, ran down to the +housekeeper's parlour. As Adela's sister, and frequently there with +Mary Lynn, she was quite at home in the house. She had gathered the +damaged dress up on her arm, but her white silk petticoat fell in rich +folds around her. + +"Just look what an object that stupid----" And there stopped the young +lady. For, instead of the housekeeper or maid, whom she expected to +meet, no one was in the room but a gentleman; a tall, handsome man. +She looked thunderstruck: and then slowly advanced and stared at him, +as if unable to believe her own eyes. + +"Gerard! Well, I should just as soon have expected to meet the dead +here." + +"How are you, Lady Frances?" he said, holding out his hand with +hesitation. + +"_Lady_ Frances! I am much obliged to you for your formality. Lady +Frances returns her thanks to Mr. Hope for his polite inquiries," +continued she, honouring him with a swimming curtsy. + +He caught her hand. "Forgive me, Fanny, but our positions have +altered. At least, mine has: and how did I know that you were not +altered with it?" + +"You are an ungrateful--raven," cried she, "to croak like that. After +getting me to write to you no end of letters, with all the news about +every one, and beginning 'My dear Gerard,' and ending 'Your +affectionate Fanny,' and being as good to you as a sister, you meet me +with 'My Lady Frances!' Now, don't squeeze my hand to atoms. What on +earth have you come to England for?" + +"I could not stop over there," he returned, with emotion; "I was +fretting away my heart-strings. So I accepted an offer that was made +to me, and came back. Guess in what way, Frances; and what to do." + +"How should I know? To call me 'Lady Frances,' perhaps." + +"As a City clerk; earning my bread. That's what I am now. Very +consistent, is it not, for one in my position to address familiarly +Lady Frances Chenevix?" + +"You never spoke a grain of sense in your life, Gerard," she exclaimed +peevishly. "What do you mean?" + +"Sir Francis Netherleigh has taken me into his house in Leadenhall +Street." + +"Sir Francis Netherleigh!" she echoed, in surprise. "What, with +that--that----" + +"That crime hanging over me. Speak up, Frances." + +"No; I was going to say that doubt," returned the outspoken girl. "I +don't believe you were guilty: you know that, Gerard." + +"I have been there some little time now, Frances; and I came up +tonight from the City to bring a note to him from Mr. Howard----" + +"Rather late, is it not, to be in the City?" + +"It is foreign post night, and we are very busy. A telegram came, of +some importance, I believe, and Mr. Howard has enclosed it to Sir +Francis." + +"But you owned to a mountain of debt in England, Gerard; you were +afraid of arrest." + +"I have managed a portion of that, thanks to Sir Francis, and the rest +they are going to let me square up by instalments." + +"And pray, if you have been back some time, why have you not come to +see us?" + +"I don't care to encounter old acquaintances, Frances; still less to +intrude voluntarily upon them. They might not like it, you see." + +"I see that you have taken up very ridiculous notions; that you are +curiously altered." + +"Adversity alters most people. That bracelet has never been heard of?" + +"Oh, that's gone for good. No doubt melted down in a caldron, as the +colonel calls it, and the diamonds reset. It remains a mystery of the +past, and is never expected to be solved." + +"And they still suspect me! What is the matter with your dress?" + +"Matter enough," answered she, letting it down and turning round for +his inspection. "I came here to get it repaired. That great booby, +John Cust, did it for me." + +"Fanny, how is Alice Dalrymple?" + +"You have cause to ask after her! She is dying." + +"Dying!" repeated Gerard, in hushed, shocked tones. + +"I do not mean actually dying tonight, or going to die tomorrow; but +that she is dying by slow degrees there is no doubt. It may be weeks +yet, or months; perhaps years: I cannot tell." + +"Where is she?" + +"Still at Lady Sarah's. Just now she is making a short stay with her +mother at Netherleigh. She went home also in the spring for a month, +and when she came back Sarah was so shocked at the change in her that +she called in medical advice, and we have been trying to nurse her up. +It is all of no use: she grows thinner and weaker." + +"You are still at Lady Sarah's also?" + +"Oh, to be sure; I am a fixture there," laughed Frances. + + "Are the +Hopes here tonight?" + +"Yes: or will be. They went out somewhere to dinner, and expected to +be late." + +"Does my uncle ever speak of me less resentfully?" + +"Not he. I think his storming over it has only made his suspicion +stronger. Not a week passes but he begins again about that detestable +bracelet. He is unalterably persuaded that you took it, and no one +must dare to put in a word in your defence." + +"And does your sister honour me with the same belief?" demanded the +young man, bitterly. + +"Sarah is silent on the point to me: I think she scarcely knows what +to believe. You see I tell you all freely, Gerard." + +"Fanny," he said, dropping his voice, "how is it that I saw Lady Adela +here tonight?" + +"Lady Adela!" retorted Frances, who knew nothing of the escapade. +"That you never did." + +"But I assure you----" + +"Hush, for goodness' sake. Here comes Sir Francis." + +"Why, Fanny," he exclaimed to his sister-in-law as he entered, "you +here!" + +"Yes: look at the sight they have made of me," replied she, shaking +down her dress for his benefit, as she had previously done for +Gerard's. "I am waiting for some of the damsels to mend it for me: I +suppose Mr. Hope's presence has scared them sway. Won't mamma be in a +rage when she sees it! it is new on tonight." + +She made her escape. Sir Francis's business with Gerard was soon over, +when he walked with him into the hall. Who should be standing there +but Colonel Hope. He started back when he saw Gerard. + +"Can I believe my senses?" stuttered he. "Sir Francis Netherleigh, is +he one of your guests?" + +"He is here on business," was the reply. "Pass on, colonel." + +"No, sir, I will not pass on," cried the enraged colonel, who had not +rightly caught the word business. "Or if I do pass on, it will only be +to warn your guests to take care of their jewellery. So, sir," he +added, turning to his nephew, "you can come back, can you, when the +proceeds of your theft are spent! You have been starring it in Calais, +I hear. How long did the bracelet last you to live upon?" + +"Sir," answered Gerard, with a pale face, "it has been starving rather +than starring. I asserted my innocence at the time, Colonel Hope, and +I repeat it now." + +"Innocence!" ironically repeated the colonel, turning to all sides of +the hall, as if he took delight in parading the details of the +unfortunate past. "The trinkets were spread out on a table in Lady +Sarah's own house: you came stealthily into it--after having been +forbidden it for another fault--went stealthily into the room, and the +next minute the diamond bracelet was missing. It was owing to my +confounded folly in listening to a parcel of women that I did not +bring you to trial at the time; I have only once regretted not doing +it, and that has been ever since. A little wholesome correction at the +Penitentiary might have made an honest man of you. Good-night, Sir +Francis; if you encourage him in your house, you don't have me in it." + +Now another gentleman had entered and heard this: some servants also +heard it. Colonel Hope, who firmly believed in his nephew's guilt, +turned off, peppery and indignant; his wife had gone upstairs; and +Gerard, giving vent to sundry unnephew-like expletives, strode after +him. The colonel made a dash into a street cab, and Gerard walked +towards the City. + +The evening went on. Lady Frances Chenevix, her dress all right again, +at least to appearance, was waiting to regain breath, after a whirling +waltz. Next to her stood a lady who had also been whirling. Frances +did not know her. + +"You are quite exhausted: we kept it up too long," said the gentleman +in attendance on the stranger. "Sit down. What can I get you?" + +"My fan: there it is. Thank you. Nothing else." + +"What an old creature to dance herself down!" thought Frances. "She's +forty, if she's a day." + +The lady opened her fan, and, whilst using it, the diamonds of her +rich bracelet gleamed right in the eyes of Frances Chenevix. Frances +looked at it, and started: she strained her eyes and looked at it +again: she bent nearer to it, and became agitated with emotion. If her +recollection did not play her false, that was the lost bracelet. + +She saw Grace at a distance, and glided up to her. "Who is that lady?" +she asked, pointing to the stranger. + +"I don't know who she is," replied Grace. "I was standing by mamma +when she was introduced, but did not catch the name. She came late, +with the Cadogans." + +"The idea of people being in the house that you don't know!" +indignantly spoke Frances, who was working herself into a fever. +"Where's Sarah? Do you know that?" + +"In the card-room, at the whist-table." + +Lady Sarah, however, had left it, for Frances only turned from Grace +to encounter her. "I do believe your lost bracelet is in the room," +she whispered, in agitation. "I think I have seen it." + +"Impossible!" responded Lady Sarah Hope. + +"It looks exactly the same; gold links interspersed with diamonds: and +the clasp is the same; three stars. A tall, ugly woman has it on, her +black hair strained off her face." For, it should be remarked _en +passant_, that such was not the fashion then. + +"So very trying for plain people!" remarked Lady Sarah, carelessly. +"Where is she?" + +"There: she is standing up now. Let us get close to her. Her dress is +that beautiful maize colour, with old lace." + +Lady Sarah Hope drew near, and obtained a sight of the bracelet. The +colour flew into her face. + +"It is mine, Fanny," she whispered. + +But the lady, at that moment, took the gentleman's arm, and moved +away. Lady Sarah followed her, with the view of obtaining another +look. Fanny went to Sir Francis, and told him. He showed himself hard +of belief. + +"You cannot be sure at this distance of time, Fanny. And, besides, +more bracelets than one may have been made of that pattern." + +"I am so certain, that I feel as if I could swear to the bracelet," +eagerly replied Lady Frances. + +"Hush, hush, Fanny." + +"I recollect it perfectly: the bracelet struck me the moment I saw it. +How singular that I should have been talking to Gerard Hope about it +tonight!" + +Sir Francis smiled. "Imagination is very deceptive, Frances. Your +having spoken to Mr. Hope of the bracelet brought it into your +thoughts." + +"But it could not have brought it to my eyes," returned the girl. +"Stuff and nonsense about imagination, Francis Netherleigh! I am +positive it is the bracelet. Here comes Sarah." + +"I suppose Frances has been telling you," observed Lady Sarah to her +brother-in-law. "I feel convinced it is my own bracelet." + +"But--as I have just remarked to Frances--other bracelets may have +been made precisely similar to yours," he urged. + + "If it is mine, the +initials 'S. H.' are scratched on the back of the middle star. I did +it one day with a penknife." + +"You never mentioned that fact before." + +"No. I was determined to give no clue. I was always afraid of the +affair being traced home to Gerard, and it would have reflected so +much disgrace on my husband's name." + +"Did you speak to the lady?--did you ask where she got the bracelet?" +interrupted Frances. + +"How could I ask her?" retorted Lady Sarah. "I do not know her." + +"I will," cried Frances, in a resolute tone. + +"My dear Fanny!" remonstrated Sir Francis. + +"I vow I will," she persisted. But they did not believe her. + +Frances kept her word. She found the strange lady in the +refreshment-room. Locating herself by her side, she entered upon a few +trifling remarks, which were civilly received. Suddenly she dashed at +once to her subject. + +"What a beautiful bracelet!" + +"I think it is," was the stranger's reply, holding out her arm for its +inspection, without any reservation. + +"One does not often see such a bracelet as this," pursued Frances. +"Where did you buy it?--if you don't mind my asking." + +"Garrards are my jewellers," she replied. + +This very nearly did for Frances: for it was at Garrards' that the +colonel originally purchased it: and it seemed to give a colouring to +Sir Francis Netherleigh's view of more bracelets having been made of +the same pattern. But she was too anxious and determined to stand upon +ceremony--for Gerard's sake: and he was dearer to her than the world +suspected. + +"We--one of my family--lost a bracelet exactly like this some time +back. When I saw it on your arm, I thought it was the same. I hoped it +was." + +The lady froze directly, and laid down her arm, making no reply. + +"Are you--pardon me, there are painful interests involved--are you +sure you purchased this at Garrards'?" + +"I have said that Messrs. Garrard are my jewellers," replied the +stranger, in cold, repelling tones; and the words sounded evasive to +Frances. "More I cannot say: neither am I aware by what law of +courtesy you thus question me, nor whom you may be." + +The young lady drew herself up, proudly secure in her name and rank. +"I am Lady Frances Chenevix. And I must beg you to pardon me." + +But the stranger only bowed in silence, and turned to the +refreshment-table. Frances went to find the Cadogans, and to question +them. + +She was a Lady Livingstone, they told her, wife of Sir Jasper +Livingstone. The husband had made a mint of money at something or +other, and had been knighted; and now they were launching out into +high society. + +The nose of Lady Frances went into the air. A City knight and his +wife: that was it, was it! How could Mrs. Cadogan have taken up with +_them?_ + +The Honourable Mrs. Cadogan did not choose to say: beyond the +assertion that they were extremely worthy, good sort of people. She +could have said that her spendthrift of a husband had borrowed money +from Sir Jasper Livingstone; and to prevent being bothered for it, and +keep them in good humour, they introduced the Livingstones where they +could. + +It seemed that nothing more could be done. Frances Chenevix went home +with her sister Sarah in great excitement, ready to go through fire +and water, if that would have set her doubts at rest one way or the +other. + +They found Colonel Hope in excitement on another score, and Lady Sarah +learnt what it was that had caused her husband not to make his +appearance in the rooms, which she had thought quite unaccountable. +The colonel treated them to a little abuse of Gerard, prophesying that +the young man would come to be hanged--which he would deserve, if for +impudence alone--and wondering what on earth could possess Francis +Netherleigh to make that Leadenhall house of his a refuge for the +ill-doing destitute. + +Before Frances went to bed, she wrote a full account of what had +happened to Alice Dalrymple, at Netherleigh, saying she was _quite +sure_ it was the lost bracelet, and also telling her of Gerard's +return. + +It may, perhaps, as well be mentioned, before we have quite done with +the evening, that the sudden disappearance of Adela caused some +commotion in the minds of those two individuals, Grace Chenevix and +Sir Sandy MacIvor, who were alone cognizant of her presence in the +house. When Grace saw Sir Francis Netherleigh standing in his place as +host, she turned sharply round to motion back Adela, following, as she +believed, behind. But she did not see her: and at the moment Sir +Francis advanced, took Grace's hand, and began telling her about Mrs. +Dalrymple. + +What had become of Adela? Grace's face went hot and cold, and as soon +as she got away from Sir Francis, she looked about for her. Not +finding her, unable to inquire after her of any of the guests, as it +would have betrayed Adela's unlawful presence in the house, fearing +she knew not what, Grace grew so troubled that she had no resource but +to seek her mother and whisper the news. Lady Acorn, whilst giving a +few hard words to Adela and to Grace also, hit upon the truth--that +the sight of her husband had terrified her away, and she had in all +probability gone back home. "Hilson will know; he is in the hall," +she said to Grace: and Grace went to Hilson, and found her mother's +view the correct one. + +But, although it had ended without exposure, Lady Acorn could not +forgive it. She spent the next day telling Adela what she thought of +her, and that she must be getting into a fit state for a lunatic +asylum. + + +The letter of Frances Chenevix so troubled Alice Dalrymple that she +showed it to Selina, confessing at the same time what a terrible +nightmare the loss of the bracelet had been to her. Selina told her +she was "silly;" that but for her weak health she would surely never +have suspected either herself or Gerard of taking it. "Go back to +London without delay," was her emphatic advice to Alice, "and sift it, +if you can, to the bottom." And, as Mrs. Dalrymple was certainly out +of danger, Alice went up at once. + +She found Frances Chenevix had lost none of her eager excitement, +whilst Lady Sarah had nearly determined not to move in the matter: the +bracelet seen on Lady Livingstone's arm must have been one of the same +pattern sold to that lady by Messrs. Garrard. To the colonel nothing +had been said. Frances, however, would not let it drop. + +The following morning, saying she wanted to do an errand or two, +Frances got possession of Lady Sarah's carriage, and down she went to +the Haymarket to see the Messrs. Garrard. Alice--more fragile than +ever, her once lovely countenance so faded now that she looked to be +dying, as Frances had said to Gerard Hope--waited her return in a +pitiable state of anxiety. Frances came in, all excitement. + +"Alice, it _is_ the bracelet. I am more certain of it than ever. +Garrards' people say they have sold many articles of jewellery to Lady +Livingstone, but not a diamond bracelet. Moreover, they say that they +never had, of that precise pattern, but the one bracelet Colonel Hope +bought." + +"What is to be done?" exclaimed Alice. + +"I know: I shall go to those Livingstones; Garrards' people gave me +their address. Gerard shall not remain under this cloud if I can help +him out of it. Sir Francis won't act in it; he laughs at me: Sarah +won't act; and we dare not tell the colonel. He is so obstinate and +wrongheaded, he would be for arresting Gerard, pending the +investigation." + +"Frances----" + +"Now, don't preach, Alice. When I will a thing, I _will_. I am like my +lady mother for that. Sarah says she scratched her initials on the +gold inside the bracelet, and I shall demand to see it: if these +Livingstones refuse, I'll put the detectives on the scent. I will; as +sure as my name is Frances Chenevix." + +"And if the investigation should bring the guilt home to--to--Gerard?" +whispered Alice, in hollow tones. + +"And if it should bring it home to you! and if it should bring it home +to me!" spoke the exasperated Frances. "For shame, Alice! it cannot +bring it home to Gerard, for he was never guilty." + +Alice sighed; she saw there was no help for it, for Lady Frances was +resolute. "I have a deeper stake in this than you," she said, after a +pause of consideration: "let me go to the Livingstones. Yes, Frances, +you must not refuse me; I have a very, very urgent motive for wishing +it." + +"You, you weak mite of a thing! you would faint before you were +half-way through the interview," cried Frances, in tones between jest +and vexation. + +Alice persisted: and Frances at length conceded the point, though with +much grumbling. The carriage was still at the door, for Frances had +desired that it should wait, and Alice hastily dressed herself and +went down to it, without speaking to Lady Sarah. The footman was +closing the door upon her, when out flew Frances. + +"Alice, I have made up my mind to go with you; I cannot keep my +patience until you are back again. I can sit in the carriage whilst +you go in, you know. Lady Livingstone will be two feet higher from +today--that the world should have been gladdened with a spectacle of +Lady Frances Chenevix waiting humbly at her door." + +They drove off. Frances talked incessantly on the road, but Alice was +silent: she was deliberating what she should say, and was nerving +herself to the task. Lady Livingstone was at home; and Alice, sending +in her card, was conducted to her presence, leaving Lady Frances in +the carriage. + +Frances had described her to be as thin as a whipping-post, with a red +nose: and Alice found Lady Livingstone answer to it very well. Sir +Jasper, who was also present, was much older than his wife, and short +and stout; a good-natured looking man, with a wig on the top of his +head. + +Alice, refined and sensitive, scarcely knew how she opened her +subject, but she was met in a different manner from what she had +expected. The knight and his wife were really worthy people, as Mrs. +Cadogan had said: but the latter had a mania for getting into "high +life and high-lived company:" a feat she would never be able +thoroughly to accomplish. They listened to Alice's tale with courtesy, +and at length with interest. + +"You will readily conceive the nightmare this has been to me," panted +Alice, for her emotion was great. "The bracelet was under my charge, +and it disappeared in this extraordinary way. All the trouble it has +been productive of to me I am not at liberty to tell you, but it has +certainly helped to shorten my life." + +"You look very ill," observed Lady Livingstone, with sympathy. + +"I am worse than I look. I am going into the grave rapidly. Others +less sensitive, or with stronger health, might have battled +successfully with the distress and annoyance; I could not. I shall die +in greater peace if this unhappy affair can be cleared. Should it +prove to be the same bracelet, we may be able to trace out how it was +lost." + +Lady Livingstone left the room and returned with the diamond bracelet. +She held it out to Miss Dalrymple, and the colour rushed into Alice's +poor wan face at the gleam of the diamonds: for she believed she +recognized them. + +"But, stay," she said, drawing back her hand as she was about to touch +it: "do not give it me just yet. If it be the one we lost, the letters +'S. H.' are scratched irregularly on the back of the middle star. +Perhaps you will first look if they are there, Lady Livingstone." + +Lady Livingstone turned the bracelet, glanced at the spot indicated, +and then silently handed it to Sir Jasper. The latter smiled. + +"Sure enough here's something on the gold--I can't see distinctly +without my glasses. What is it, Lady Livingstone?" + +"The letters 'S. H.,' as Miss Dalrymple described: I cannot deny it." + +"Deny it! no, my lady, why should we deny it? If we are in possession +of another's bracelet, lost by fraud, and if the discovery will set +this young lady's mind at ease, I don't think either you or I shall be +the one to deny it. Examine it for yourself, ma'am," added he, giving +it to Alice. + +She turned it about, she put it on her arm, her eyes lighting with the +eagerness of conviction. "It is certainly the same bracelet," she +affirmed: "I could be sure of it, I think, without proof; but Lady +Sarah's initials are there, scratched irregularly, just as she +describes to have scratched them." + +"It is not beyond the range of possibility that initials may have been +scratched on this bracelet, without its being the same," observed Lady +Livingstone. + +"I think it must be the same," mused Sir Jasper. "It looks +suspicious." + +"Lady Frances Chenevix understood you to say you bought this of +Messrs. Garrard," resumed Alice. + +Lady Livingstone felt rather foolish. "What I said was, that Messrs. +Garrard were my jewellers. The fact is, I do not know exactly where +this was bought: but I did not consider myself called upon to proclaim +that fact to a young lady who was a stranger to me, and in answer to +questions which I thought verged on impertinence." + +"Her anxiety, scarcely less than my own, may have rendered her +abrupt," replied Alice, by way of apology for Frances. "Our hope is +not so much to regain the bracelet, as to penetrate the mystery of its +disappearance. Can you not let me know where you did buy it?" + +"I can," interposed Sir Jasper: "there's no disgrace in having bought +it where I did. I got it at a pawnbroker's." + +Alice's heart beat violently. A pawnbroker's! Was her haunting fear +growing into a dread reality? + +"I was one day at the East-end of London, walking fast, when I saw a +topaz-and-amethyst cross in a pawnbroker's window," said Sir Jasper. +"The thought struck me that it would be a pretty ornament for my wife, +and I went in to look at it. In talking about jewellery with the +master, he reached out this diamond bracelet, and told me _that_ would +be a present worth making. Now, I knew my lady's head had been running +on a diamond bracelet; and I was tempted to ask what was the lowest +figure he would put it at. He said it was the most valuable article of +the sort he had had for a long while, the diamonds of the first water, +worth four hundred guineas of anybody's money; but that, being +second-hand, he could part with it for two hundred and fifty. And I +bought it. There's where I got the bracelet, ma'am." + +"That was just the money Colonel Hope gave for it new at Garrards'," +said Alice. "Two hundred and fifty guineas." + +Sir Jasper stared at her: and then broke forth with a comical attempt +at rage, for he was one of the best-tempered men in the world. + +"The old wretch of a cheat! Sold it to me at second-hand price, as he +called it, for the identical sum it cost new! Why, he ought to be +prosecuted for usury." + +"It is just what I tell you, Sir Jasper," grumbled his lady. "You will +go to these low second-hand dealers, who always cheat where they can, +instead of to a regular jeweller; and nine times out of ten you get +taken in." + +"But your having bought it of this pawnbroker does not bring me any +nearer to knowing how he procured it," observed Alice. + +"I shall go to him this very day and ascertain," returned Sir Jasper. +"Tradespeople may not sell stolen bracelets with impunity. You shall +hear from me as soon as possible," he added to Alice, as he escorted +her out to the carriage. + +But Sir Jasper Livingstone found it easier to say a thing than to do +it. The pawnbroker protested his ignorance and innocence. If the +bracelet was a stolen bracelet, he knew nothing of that. He had bought +it, he said, in the regular course of business, at one of the +pawnbrokers' periodical sales: and of this he convinced Sir Jasper. + +Frances Chenevix was in despair. She made a confidante of Lady Sarah, +and got her to put the affair once more into the hands of the +detectives; the same officer who had charge of it before, Mr. Pullet, +taking it up again. He had something to work upon now. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. +LIGHT AT LAST. + + +Some weeks later, in an obscure room of a low and dilapidated +lodging-house, in a low and dilapidated neighbourhood, there sat a man +one evening in the coming twilight: a towering, gaunt skeleton, whose +remarkably long arms and legs looked little more than skin and bone. +The arms were fully exposed to view, since their owner, though he +possessed and wore a waistcoat, dispensed with the use of a shirt. An +article, once a coat, lay on the floor, to be donned at will--if it +could be got into for the holes. The man sat on the floor in a corner, +his head finding a resting-place against the wall, and he had dropped +into a light sleep; but if ever famine was depicted in a face, it was +in his. Unwashed, unshaven, with matted hair and feverish lips: the +cheeks were hollow, the nostrils white and pinched. Some one tried, +and shook the door; it aroused him, and he started up, but only to +cower in a bending attitude, and listen. + +"I hear you," cried a voice. "How are you tonight, Joe? Open the +door." + +The voice was not one he knew; consequently not one that might be +responded to. + +"Do you call this politeness, Joe Nicholls? If you don't open the +door, I shall take the liberty of opening it for myself: which will +put you to the trouble of mending the fastenings afterwards." + +"Who are you?" cried Nicholls, reading determination in the voice. +"I'm gone to bed, and I can't admit folks tonight." + +"Gone to bed at eight o'clock?" + +"Yes: I am ill." + +"I give you one minute, and then I come in. You will open it, if you +wish to save trouble." + +Nicholls yielded to his fate: and opened the door. + +The gentleman--he looked like one--cast his keen eyes round the room. +There was not a vestige of furniture in it; nothing but the bare dirty +walls, from which the mortar crumbled, and the bare dirty boards. + +"What did you mean by saying you were gone to bed, eh?" + +"So I was. I was asleep there," pointing to the corner, "and that's my +bed. What do you want?" added Nicholls, peering at the stranger's face +in the gloom of the evening, but seeing it imperfectly, for his hat +was drawn low over it. + +"A little talk with you. That last sweepstake you put into----" + +The man lifted his face, and burst forth with such eagerness that the +stranger could only arrest his own words and listen. + +"It was a swindle from beginning to end. I had scraped together the +ten shillings to put in it; and I drew the right horse, and was +shuffled out of the gains, and I have never had my dues; not a +farthing of 'em. Since then I've been ill, and I can't get about to +better myself. Are you come, sir, to make it right?" + +"Some"--the stranger coughed--"friends of mine were in it also," said +he: "and they lost their money." + +"Everybody lost it; the getters-up bolted with all they had drawn into +their fingers. Have they been took, do you know?" + +"All in good time; they have left their trail. So you have been ill, +have you?" + +"Ill! just take a sight at me! There's a arm for a big man." + +He stretched out his naked arm for inspection: it appeared as if a +touch would snap it. The stranger laid his hand upon its fingers, and +his other hand appeared to be stealing furtively towards his own +pocket. + +"I should say this looks like starvation, Joe." + +"Some'at akin to it." + +A pause of unsuspicion, and the handcuffs were clapped on the +astonished man. He started up with an oath. + +"No need to make a noise, Nicholls," said the detective, with a +careless air, as he lifted off his hat: "I have two men waiting +outside. Do you know me?" + +The prisoner gave a gasp. "Why, it's Mr. Pullet!" + +"Yes; it's Mr. Pullet, Joe." + +"I swear I wasn't in the plate robbery," passionately uttered the man. +"I knew of it, but I didn't join 'em, and I never had the worth of as +much as a saltspoon, after it was melted down. And they call me a +coward, and they leave me here to starve and die! Sir, I swear I +wasn't in it." + +"We'll talk of the plate robbery another time," said the officer; "you +have got these bracelets on, my man, for another sort of bracelet. A +diamond one. Don't you remember it?" + +The prisoner's mouth fell. "I thought that was over and done with, all +this time---- I don't know what you mean," he added, correcting +himself. + +"No," said the officer, "it is just beginning. The bracelet is found, +and has been traced to you. You were a clever fellow, Joe, and I had +my doubts of you at the time, you know. I thought then you were too +clever to go on long." + +"I should be ashamed to play the sneak, and catch a fellow in this +way," cried Joe, driven to exasperation. "Why couldn't you come +openly, in your proper clothes--not playing the spy in the garb of a +friendly civilian?" + +"My men are in their proper clothes,'" was the equable answer, "and +you will have the honour of their escort presently. I came in because +they did not know you, and I did. You might have had a host of friends +around you here." + +"Three officers to take a single man, and he a skeleton!" retorted +Nicholls, with a great show of indignation. + +"Ay; but you were powerful once, and ferocious too. The skeleton +aspect is a recent one." + +"And to be took for nothing! I know naught of any bracelet." + +"Don't trouble yourself with inventions, Nicholls. Your friend is safe +in our hands, and has made a full confession." + +"What friend?" asked Nicholls, too eagerly. + +"The lady you got to dispose of it for you." + +Nicholls was startled to incaution. "She hasn't split, has she?" + +"Every particular she knew or guessed at. Split to save herself." + +"Then there's no faith in woman." + +"There never was yet," returned Mr. Pullet. "If they are not at the +top and bottom of every mischief, Joe, they are sure to be in the +middle. Is this your coat?" touching it gingerly. + +"She's a disgrace to the female sex, she is!" raved Nicholls, +disregarding the question as to his coat. "But it's a relief now I'm +took: it's a weight off my mind. I was always expecting it: and I +shall, at any rate, get food in the Old Bailey." + +"Ah," said the officer, "you were in good service as a respectable +servant, Nicholls: you had better have stuck to your duties." + +"The temptation was so great," returned the man, who had evidently +abandoned all idea of denial; and, now that he had done so, was ready +to be voluble with remembrances and particulars. + +"Don't say anything to me. It will be used against you." + +"It all came of my long legs," cried Nicholls, ignoring the friendly +injunction, and proceeding to enlarge on the feat he had performed. +And it may as well be observed that legs so long as his are rarely +seen. "I have never had a happy hour since; it's true, sir. I was +second footman there, and a good place I had: and I have wished, +thousands of times, that the bracelet had been at the bottom of the +sea. Our folks had took a house in the neighbourhood of Ascot for the +race-week; they had left me at home to take care of the kitchen-maid +and another inferior or two, carrying the rest of the servants with +them. I had to clean the winders before they returned, and I had druv +it off till the Thursday evening, when out I got on the balqueny, +intending to begin with the back drawing-room----" + +"What do you say you got out on?" + +"The balqueny. The thing with the green rails round it, that +encloses the winder. While I was leaning over the rails sorting my +wash-leathers, I heard something like click, click, click, going on in +the fellow-room next door--which was Colonel Hope's--just as if light +articles of some sort were being laid sharp on a table. Presently two +voices began to talk, a lady's and a gentleman's, and I listened----" + +"No good ever comes of listening, Joe," interrupted the officer. + +"I didn't listen for the sake of listening; but it was awful hot, +standing outside there in the sun, and listening was better than +working. I didn't want to hear, neither, for I was thinking of my own +concerns, and what a fool I was to have idled away my time all day +till the sun come on the back winders. Bit by bit, I heard what they +were talking of--that it was jewels they had got there, and that one +of 'em was worth two hundred guineas. Thinks I, if that was mine, +I'd do no more work. After a while, I heard them go out of the room, +and I thought I'd have a look at the rich things, so I stepped over +slant-ways on to the little ledge running along the houses, holding on +by our balqueny, and then I passed my hands along the wall till I got +hold of their balqueny--but one with ordinary legs and arms couldn't +have done it. You couldn't, sir." + +"Perhaps not," remarked the officer. + +"There wasn't fur to fall, if I had fell, only on to the kitchen leads +underneath: leastways not fur enough to kill one, and the leads was +flat. But I didn't fall, and I raised myself on to their balqueny, and +looked in. My! what a show it was! stunning jewels, all laid out there: +so close, that if I had put my hand inside, it must have struck all +among 'em: and the fiend prompted me to take one. I didn't stop to +look, I didn't stop to think: the one that twinkled the brightest and +had the most stones in it was the nearest to me, and I clutched it, +and slipped it into my footman's undress jacket, and stepped back +again." + +"And got safe into your balcony?" + +"Yes, and inside the room. I didn't clean the winder that night. I was +upset like, by what I had done; and, if I could have put it back +again, I think I should; but there was no opportunity. I wrapped it in +my winder-leather, and then in a sheet of brown paper, and then I put +it up the chimbley in one of the spare bedrooms. I was up the next +morning afore five, and I cleaned my winders: I'd no trouble to awake +myself, for I had never slept. The same day, towards evening--or +the next was it? I forget--you called, sir, and asked me some +questions--whether we had seen any one on the leads at the back, and +such like. I said that master was just come home from Ascot, and would +you be pleased to speak to him." + +"Ah!" again remarked the officer, "you were a clever fellow that day. +But if my suspicions had not been strongly directed to another +quarter, I might have looked you up more sharply." + +"I kep' it by me for a month or two, and then I gave warning to +leave. I thought I'd have my fling, and I had made acquaintance with +her--that lady you've just spoke of--and somehow she wormed out of me +that I had got it, and I let her dispose of it for me, for she said +she knew how to do it without danger." + +"What did you get for it?" + +The skeleton shook his head. "Thirty-four pounds, and I had counted on +a hundred and fifty. She took her oath she had not helped herself to a +sixpence." + +"Oaths are plentiful with some ladies," remarked Mr. Pullet. + +"She stood to it she hadn't kep' a farthing, and she stopped and +helped me to spend the change. After that was done she went over to +stop with somebody else who was in luck. And I have tried to go on, +and I can't: honestly or dishonestly, it seems all one: nothing +prospers, and I'm naked and famishing. I wish I was dying." + +"Evil courses rarely do prosper, Nicholls," said the officer, as he +called in the policemen and consigned the gentleman to their care. + + +So Gerard Hope was innocent! + +"But how was it you skilful detectives could not be on this man's +scent?" asked Colonel Hope of Mr. Pullet, when he heard the tale. + +"Colonel, I was thrown off it. Your positive belief in your nephew's +guilt infected me; appearances were certainly very strong against him. +Neither was his own manner altogether satisfactory to my mind. He +treated the obvious suspicion of him more as a jest than in earnest; +never, so far as I heard, giving a downright hearty denial to it." + +"He was a fool," interjected the colonel. + +"Also," continued Mr. Pullet, "Miss Dalrymple's evidence served to +throw me off other suspicion. She said, if you remember, sir, that she +did not leave the room; but it now appears that she did leave it when +your nephew did, though only for a few moments. Those few moments +sufficed to do the job." + +"It is strange she could not tell the exact truth," growled the +colonel. + +"She probably thought she was exact enough, since she remained outside +the door, and could answer for it that no one entered by it. She +forgot the window. I thought of the window the instant the loss was +mentioned to me; but Miss Dalrymple's assertion, that she never had +the window out of her view, prevented my dwelling on it. I did go to +the next door, and saw this very fellow who committed the robbery, but +his manner was sufficiently satisfactory. He talked too freely; I did +not like that; but I found he had been in the same service fifteen +months; and, as I must repeat, in my mind the guilt lay with another." + +"It is a confoundedly unpleasant affair for me," cried the colonel. "I +have published my nephew's disgrace all over London." + +"It is more unpleasant for him, colonel," was the rejoinder of Mr. +Pullet. + +"And I have kept him short of money, and suffered him to be sued for +debt; and I have let him go and live among the runaway scamps over the +water; and now he is working as a merchant's clerk! In short, I have +played the very deuce with him." + +"But reparation lies, doubtless, in your own heart and hands, +colonel." + +"I don't know that, sir," testily concluded the colonel. + +Once more Gerard Hope entered his uncle's house; not as an interloper, +stealing into it in secret; but as an honoured guest, to whom +reparation was due, and must be made. Alice Dalrymple chanced to be +alone. She was leaning back in her invalid-chair, a joyous flush on +her wasted cheek, a joyous happiness in her eye. Still the shadow of +coming death was there, and Mr. Hope was shocked to see her--more +shocked and startled than he had expected, or chose to express. + +"Oh, Alice! what has done this?" + +"That has helped it on," she answered, pointing to the bracelet; +which, returned to its true owner, lay on the table. "I should not +have lived very many years; of that I am convinced: but I think this +has taken a little from my life. The bracelet has been the cause of +misery to many of us. Lady Sarah says she shall never regard it but as +an ill-starred trinket, or wear it with any pleasure." + +"But, Alice, why should you have suffered it thus to affect you?" he +remonstrated. "You knew your own innocence, and you say you believed +and trusted in mine: what did you fear? + +"I will tell you, Gerard," she whispered, a deeper hectic rising to +her cheeks. "I could not have confessed my fear, even in dying; it was +too distressing, too terrible; but now that it is all clear, I will +tell it. _I believed my sister had taken the bracelet_." + +"Ah," said Gerard, carelessly. + +"Selina called to see me that evening, as you saw, and she was for a +minute or two in the room alone with the trinkets: I went upstairs to +get a letter. She wanted money badly at the time, as you cannot +fail to remember, and I feared she had been tempted to take the +bracelet--just as this unfortunate man was tempted. Oh, Gerard! the +dread of it has been upon me night and day, preying upon my fears, +weighing down my spirits, wearing away my health and my life. Now hope +would be in the ascendant, now fear. And I had to bear it all in +silence. It is that enforced, dreadful silence that has so tried me." + +"Why did you not question Selina?" + +"I did. She denied it. As good as laughed at me. But you know how +light-headed and careless her nature is; and the fear remained with +me." + +"It must have been a morbid fear, Alice." + +"Not so--if you knew all. But it is at an end, and I am very thankful. +I have only one hope now," she added, looking up at him with a sunny +smile. "Ah, Gerard, can you not guess it?" + +"No," he answered, in a stifled voice. "I can only guess that you are +lost to me." + +"Lost to all here. Have you forgotten our brief conversation, the +night you went into exile? I told you then there was one far more +worthy of you than I could have ever been." + +"None will ever be half so worthy; or--I will say it, Alice, in spite +of your warning hand--half so loved." + +"Gerard," sinking her voice, "she has waited for you." + +"Nonsense," he rejoined. + +"She has. When she shall be your wife, you may tell her that I saw it +and said it. She might have had John Cust." + +"My darling----" + +"Stay, Gerard," she gravely interrupted; "those words of endearment +are not for me. Can you deny that you love her?" + +"Perhaps I do--in a degree. Next to yourself----" + +"Put me out of your thoughts whilst we speak. If I were--where I may +perhaps soon be, would she not be dearer to you than any one on earth? +Would you not be well pleased to make her your wife?" + +"Yes, I might be." + +"That is enough, Gerard. Frances----" + +"Wait a bit," interrupted Gerard. "Don't you think, Alice, that you +have the morbid feeling on you yet? With this dread removed--which, as +you truly express it, must have been to you a very nightmare--you may, +nay, I think you will, regain health and strength, and be a comfort to +us all for years." + +"I may regain it in a measure. It is simply impossible that in any +case my life will be a long one. Let me--dear Gerard!--let me make +some one happy while I may! Hark! that's the door--and this is her +light step on the stairs!" + +Frances Chenevix came in. "Good gracious, is it you, Gerard!" she +exclaimed. "You and Alice look as if you had been talking secrets." + +"So we have been," said Alice. "Frances, what can we do to keep him +amongst us? Do you know what Colonel Hope has told him?" + +"No. What?" + +"That though he shall be reinstated in favour as to money matters, he +shall not be in his affection or his home, unless he prove sorry for +that past rebellion of his." + +"When did the colonel tell him? When did he see him?" + +"This morning: before Gerard came here. I think Gerard _is_ sorry for +it: you must help him to be more so." + +"Fanny," said Gerard, while a damask flush mantled in her cheeks, +deeper than the hectic making havoc with those of Alice, "_will_ you +help me?" + +"As if I could make head or tail of what you two are rambling about!" +cried she, as she attempted to turn away; but Gerard caught her to his +side. + +"Fanny--will you drive me again from the house?" + +She lifted her eyes, twinkling with a little spice of mischief. "I did +not drive you before." + +"In a manner, yes. Do you know what did drive me?" She had known it at +the time; and Gerard read it in her face. + +"I see it all," he murmured; "you have been far kinder to me than I +deserved. Fanny, let me try and repay you for it." + +"Are you sure you would not rather have Alice?" she asked, in her +clear-sighted independence. + +He shook his head sorrowfully. Alice caught their hands together, and +held them between her own, with a mental aspiration for their life's +future happiness. Some time back she could not have breathed it in so +fervent a spirit: but--as she had said--the present world and its +hopes were closing to her. + +"But you know, Gerard," cried Lady Frances, in a saucy tone, "if you +ever do help yourself to somebody's bracelet in reality, you must not +expect me to go to prison with you." + +"Yes, I shall," he answered promptly. "A wife must share the fortunes +of her husband. She takes him for better--or for worse." + +He sealed the compact with a kiss. And there was much rejoicing that +day in the house of Colonel Hope. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. +VISITORS AT MOAT GRANGE. + + +Autumn weather lay on the world and on Netherleigh. + +Things were coming to a revolt. Never were poor tenant-farmers so +ground down and oppressed as those on the estate of Moat Grange. Rents +were raised, fines imposed, expenses, properly belonging to landlords, +refused to be paid or allowed for. Oscar Dalrymple was ruling with a +hand of iron, hard and cruel. + +At least, Oscar had the credit of it. In point of fact, he was perhaps +a little ashamed of the existing state of things, and would have +somewhat altered it if he could. A year ago Oscar had let the whole +estate to a sort of agent, a man named Pinnett, and Pinnett was +playing Old Gooseberry with everything. + +That was the expressive phrase, whatever it might mean, the indignant +people used. They refused to lay the blame on Pinnett, utterly refused +to recognize him in the matter; arguing, perhaps rightly, that unless +he had Mr. Dalrymple's sanction to harsh measures, he could not +exercise them, and that Mr. Dalrymple was, therefore, alone to blame. +Most likely Oscar had no resource but to sanction it all, tacitly at +any rate. + +As to the Grange itself, the mansion, it was now the dreariest of the +dreary. It had not been let with the estate, and Oscar and his wife +still lived in it. Two maids were kept, and a man for outdoor +work--the garden and the poultry. Most of the rooms were locked up. +Selina would unlock the doors sometimes and open the shutters; and +pace about the lonely floors, and wish she had not been guilty of the +folly which had led to these wretched retrenchments. Things indoors +and out were growing worse day by day. + +One morning John Lee called at the Grange: a respectable man, whose +name you cannot have forgotten. He had rented all his life, and his +father before him, under the Dalrymples. + +"Sir," he began to Oscar, without circumlocution, "I have come up +about that paper which has been sent to me by Jones, your lawyer. It's +a notice that next Michaelmas, when my lease will expire, the rent is +to be raised." + +"Well?" said Mr. Dalrymple. + +"A pound an acre. _A pound an acre_," repeated the farmer, with +increased emphasis. "Jones must have made a mistake, sir." + +"I fancy not. But Jones is not my lawyer, you know; he is Mr. +Pinnett's." + +"We don't want to have anything to do with Mr. Pinnett, or to hear his +name, sir. I have always rented under the Dalrymples; and I hope to do +it still, sir, with your leave." + +"You know, Lee, that Pinnett has a lease of the whole estate. What he +proposes is no doubt fair. Your farm will well bear the increased rent +he means to put on it." + +"Increased by a pound an acre!" cried the farmer, in his excitement. +"No, sir; it won't bear it, for I'll never pay it." + +"I am sorry for that, Mr. Lee, because it will leave Pinnett only one +alternative: to substitute in its place a notice to quit." + +"To quit! to quit the farm!" reiterated Lee, in his astonishment. "Why, +it has been my home all my life, sir, and it was my father's before +me. I was born on that farm, Mr. Dalrymple, years and years before you +ever came into the world, and I mean to die on it. I have spared +neither money nor labour to bring it to its present flourishing +condition." + +"My good sir, I say as you do, that the land is flourishing: +sufficiently so to justify the advanced rent Pinnett proposes. Two of +you were here yesterday on this same errand--Watkins and Rumford." + +"They have spent money on their farms, too, expecting to reap future +benefit. You see, we never thought of Mr. Dalrymple's dying young, +and----" + +"Are you speaking of young Robert Dalrymple?" + +"No, no, poor fellow: of his father. Mr. Dalrymple did die young, so +to say; you can't call a man under fifty old. His death, and his son's +close upon it, brought you, sir, to rule over us, and I am sorry to +say your rule's a very hard one." + +"It will not be made easier," curtly replied Oscar Dalrymple, who was +getting angry. "And I will not detain you longer, Mr. Lee," he added, +rising. "Your time is valuable." + +"And what is to be my answer, sir?" + +"It no longer lies with me to give an answer, Lee, and I must request +that you do not refer to me again. Pinnett's answer will no doubt be +that you must renew the lease at the additional rent demanded, or else +give up the farm." + +Farmer Lee swung away in a passion. In turning out of the first field +he met two ladies: one young and very pretty, the other getting to +look old; her thin features were white and her hair was grey. They +were Mrs. Dalrymple and Mary Lynn. Close upon Mrs. Dalrymple's +recovery from her accident, which turned out to have been not at all +formidable, she caught a violent cold; it laid her up longer than a +cold had ever laid her up before, and seemed to have tried her +greatly. Mary Lynn had now just come again to Netherleigh to stay a +week or two with her. + +"Is it you, ma'am!" cried the farmer, touching his hat. "I'm glad to +see you out again." + +"At one time I thought I never should be out again," she answered; "I +am very weak still. And how are you, Mr. Lee?" + +"Middling, ma'am. Anything but well just now, in temper." And the +farmer touched upon his grievances, spoke of the interview he had just +held at the Grange, and of its master's harshness. + +"_Is_ it right to us, ma'am?" he wound up with. "_Is_ it just, Miss +Lynn?" turning to that young lady. "Ah, if poor young Mr. Robert had +but lived! We should have had no oppression then." + +Mary turned away her face, blushing almost to tears with unhappy +remembrances. Robert! Robert! + +"I do believe it will come to a revolt!" said the farmer to Mrs. +Dalrymple. "Not with us tenants; you know better than to think that +likely, ma'am; but with those people at the cottages. They are getting +ripe for it." + +"Ay," she answered, in a low, grieved tone. "And the worst of it, Mr. +Lee, the worst to me is, that I am powerless for help or remedy." + +"We cannot quite think--it is impossible to think or believe, that Mr. +Oscar Dalrymple should have put all control out of his power. +Therefore, his refusing to interfere with Pinnett seems all the more +harsh. You must see that, ma'am." + +"I have no comfort, no advice to give," she whispered, putting her +hand into Mr. Lee's as she turned away. For Mrs. Dalrymple could not +bear to speak of the existing state of things, the trouble that had +come of Selina's folly and Oscar's rule. + +Yet Oscar was kind to her. Continuously so. In no way would he allow +her income, that which he allowed her, to be in the slightest degree +diminished. He pinched himself, but he would not pinch poor Mrs. +Dalrymple. Over and over again had she wished Reuben to leave her, but +Oscar would not hear of it. Neither, for the matter of that, would +Reuben. He did not want wages, he said, but he would not desert his +mistress in her premature old age, her sickness, and her sorrow. A +small maid only was kept in addition to Reuben; and the man had +degenerated (as he might have called it but for his loyalty) to little +better than a man-of-all-work. He stood behind the ladies now at a +respectful distance, having stopped when they stopped. + +The grievance alluded to by Mr. Lee, ready to ripen into open revolt, +had nothing to do with the tenant-farmers. It was this. In a very +favourable position on the estate, as regarded situation, stood a +cluster of small dwellings. They were for the most part very poor, +some of them little better than huts, but they commanded a lovely +view. They were inhabited by labourers employed on the land, and were +called the Mill Cottages: a mill, done away with now, having formerly +stood close by. + +One fine day it had struck the new man, Pinnett--looking about here +and there to discover some means of adding to the profits he meant to +make off the land--that if these cottages were taken down and handsome +dwellings erected in their place, it would be a great improvement, +pecuniarily and artistically, for such houses would let directly in +this picturesque locality. No sooner thought of than resolved upon. +Miles Pinnett was not a man to linger over his plans, and he gave +these small tenants notice to quit. + +It was rebelled against. Some of the men had been in the cottages as +long as Farmer Lee had been in his farm, and to be ordered to leave +seemed a terrible hardship. It no doubt increased the difficulty that +there were no other small dwellings on the estate the men could go +into: all others were already occupied: and, if they left these, they +must go to a distance whence they would have a two or three miles' +walk to their day's work. And so, encouraged perhaps by the feeling +pervading the neighbourhood, of sympathy with them and opposition to +Pinnett, the men, one and all, refused to go out. The next step would +be ejectment; and it was looked for day by day. + +For all this, Oscar Dalrymple suffered in opinion. Pinnett could not +go to such lengths, oppress them as he was oppressing, against the +will of the owner, Mr. Dalrymple, argued the community, rich and poor. +Perhaps he could not. But how it really was, no one knew, or what +power Mr. Dalrymple had put out of his own hands, and into Pinnett's, +when he leased him the demesne. + +Farmer Lee's visit to Moat Grange was paid in the morning. In the +afternoon the Grange had another visitor--Lady Adela Netherleigh. + +Adela had not lingered long at her mother's in London. After a few +weeks' sojourn she came down to Netherleigh Rectory, invited by the +Rector and his wife, her sister Mary. They had gone to London for a +day, had been struck with compassion at Adela's evident state of +mental suffering, and they asked her to return with them for a little +change. + +"It is not change I want," she had answered, speaking to Lady Mary. +"What I want is peace. Perhaps I shall find it with you, Mary, at the +Rectory." + +Lady Mary Cleveland hesitated. Peace? The word posed her. + +"Adela," she said, "we should be very glad to have you, and there is +plenty of room for you and Darvy. But, as to peace--I don't know about +that. The Rectory is full of children great and small, and I'm afraid +it is noisy and bustling from morning till night." + +Adela smiled faintly. The peace her heart craved for was not that +imparted by the absence of noise. She might feel all the better for +having the bustle of children about her; it might draw her at moments +out of her own sorrow. But another thought struck her. + +"My----" husband, she had been about to say, but changed the words. +"Sir Francis is not staying at Court Netherleigh? Is he?" + +"No. It is said he means to take up his abode there later; he is not +there yet." + +"Then I will come to you, Mary. And I will stay with you for months +and months if I like it--and you must allow me to contribute towards +your housekeeping as Sir Sandy and Harriet did." + +Lady Mary winced a little at that, but she did not say no. With all +those children--she had two of her own now--and the Rector's moderate +income, they could not be rich. + +So Adela and Darvy went down with them to Netherleigh. That was in +summer, now it was autumn: and, so far as could be seen or judged, the +change had not as yet effected much for her. Adela seemed just as +before; wan, weary, sick, and sorry. + +And yet, there was a change in a certain degree. The bitter rebellion +at her fate had partly passed from her mind, and therefore its traces +had left her face. The active repining in which her days had been +spent was giving place to a sort of hopeless resignation. She strove +to accept her punishment, strove to bear it, to be patient and gentle +always, hardly ever ceasing day or night to beseech God to blot out +the past from the book of the Recording Angel. The sense of shame, +entailed by her conduct of long years, had not lifted itself in the +least degree; nay, it seemed to grow of a deeper scarlet as time went +on. Sometimes she would think if she could trample upon herself and +annihilate all power of remembrance, she would do it gladly; but that +would not stamp it out of her ever-living soul. Adela had erred; +wilfully, cruelly, persistently; and if ever retribution came home to +a woman, it surely had come to her. + +On this same day, when the sky was blue and the afternoon sun lay on +the green fields at Netherleigh, Lady Adela went out, and turned her +languid steps towards Moat Grange. Selina had called to see her at the +Rectory several times; each time Adela had promised to pay return +visits, and had not yet done so. The direct road lay, as the reader +may perhaps remember, through the village and past Court Netherleigh. +Lingeringly would her eyes look on the house whenever this happened, +lingeringly they rested on it now. The home, in which she had spent so +many happy days with Aunt Margery, was closed to her for ever. Of all +people in the living world, she was the only one debarred from +entering it. Very rarely indeed was Sir Francis at Netherleigh. It had +been supposed that he meant to take up his abode in it for the autumn +months; but this appeared to be a mistake; when he did come it was but +for a flying visit of a few hours. Mr. Cleveland privately told his +wife that he believed Sir Francis stayed away from the place because +Adela was in it. + +Selina was in the larger of the two drawing-rooms when Adela reached +the Grange. Selina rarely used it now, her husband never, but she had +gone into it this afternoon. Opening the shutters and the window, she +sat there making herself a lace collar. The time had gone by when she +could order these articles of a Madame Damereau, and pay a fabulous +price for them. + +Adela untied her bonnet strings and took off her gloves as she sat +down opposite Selina. Not strong now, the walk had greatly tired her. +Selina could but notice how fragile and delicate she looked, as the +light from the window fell upon her face. The once rounded cheeks were +wasted, their bright colour had faded to the faintest tinge of pink; +from the once lustrous eyes shone only sadness. + +"Let me get you something, Adela," cried Selina, impulsively. "A cup +of tea--I will make it for you directly. Of wine--well, I am not sure, +really, that we possess any. I can ask Oscar." + +"Not anything, not anything," returned Adela, "I could not take it. +Thank you all the same. As to my looks--I look as I always do." + +"Ah me," sighed Selina, "it is a weary life. A weary life, Adela, for +you and for me." + +"If that were all--its weariness--it might be better borne," murmured +Adela. "And yet I do try to bear," she added, pushing her pretty brown +hair from her aching brow, and for once induced to speak of her +troubles to this friend, who had suffered too--though not as she had. +"But there is the remorse as well, you see. Oh, how wrong, how +foolish, how _wicked_ we were!--at least _I_ was. Do you ever think of +our past folly, Selina?--of the ease and happiness we then held in our +hands, and flung away?" + +"We have paid for it," said Selina. "Yes, I do sometimes think of the +past, Adela; and then I wonder at the folly of women. See to what +folly has reduced me!--to drag out a dead-alive existence in a +semi-prison, for the Grange is no better now, with never a friend to +stay with me, or a shilling to spend. And all for the sake of a few +fine bonnets and gowns! Would you believe it," she added, laughing, +"that the costly things have not half come to an end yet?" + +"Just for _that?_" dissented Adela, in her pain, and losing sight of +Selina's trouble in her own. "If it had been for nothing more than +that!" + +"Well, well, we have paid for it, I say. Bitterly and cruelly." + +"_I_ have. You have not." + +"No?" somewhat indifferently returned Selina, her attention partly +given to her lace again, for she was never serious long together. "How +do you make that out?" + +"You have your husband still. Poverty with him, with one we love, must +carry little sting with it. But for me--my whole life is one of +never-ending loneliness, without a future, without hope. Do you know +what fanciful thought came to me the other night?" she went on, after +a pause. "I have all sorts of fanciful ideas when I sit alone in the +twilight. I thought that life might be so much happier if God gave us +a chance once of beginning it all over again from the first. Just +once, when we found out what dreadful mistakes we had been making." + +"And we should make the same again, though we began it fifty times +over, Adela. Unless we could carry back with us our dearly-bought +experience." + +Adela sighed. "Yes, I suppose so. God would have so ordered it had it +been well for us. He knows best. But there are some women who seem +never to make mistakes, who go on their way smoothly and happily." + +"Placing themselves under God's guidance, I imagine," returned Selina. +"That's what my mother says to me, when she lectures me on the past." + +Adela's eyes filled with tears. "Yes, yes," she murmured, meekly, +recalling that it was what she had been striving to do for some little +time now--to hold on her way, under submission to God. + +The conversation turned into other channels, and by-and-by, when Adela +was rested, she rose to leave. Selina accompanied her into the hall. + +"Won't you just say 'How d'you do' to my husband?" she cried, opening +the door of their common sitting-room. "He is here." + +Adela made no objection, and followed Selina. Oscar was standing in +the bay window, facing the door. And some one else, towering nearly a +head above him, was standing at his side. + +Sir Francis Netherleigh. + +They stood, the husband and wife, face to face. With a faint cry, +Adela put up her hands, as if to ward off the sight--as if to bespeak +pardon in all humility for herself, for her intrusion--and disappeared +again, whiter than death. It was rather an awkward moment for them +all. Selina disappeared after her, and shut the door. + +"Is Lady Adela ill?" asked Sir Francis of Oscar, the question breaking +from him involuntarily in the moment's impulse--for she did, indeed, +look fearfully so. + +"Ay," replied Oscar, "ill with remembrance. Repentance has made her +sick unto death. Remorse has told upon her." + +But Sir Francis said no more. + +Adela had departed across the fields with the best speed she could +command. About half-way home she came upon Mr. Cleveland, seated on a +stile and whistling softly. + +"Those two young rascals of mine"--alluding to two of his little +sons--"seduced me from my study to help fly their kites," he began to +Adela. "Here I follow them, to the appointed field, and find them +nowhere, little light-headed monkeys! But, my dear, what's the matter +with you?" he added, with fatherly kindness, as he remarked her pale, +troubled face. "You look alarmed." + +"I have just seen my husband," she panted, her breath painfully short. +All the old pain that she had been striving to subdue had come back +again; the sight of him, whom she now passionately loved, had stirred +distressing emotion within her. + +"Well?" said Mr. Cleveland. + +"Did you know he was at Netherleigh?" + +"He came down today." + +"He was in the bay-parlour with Oscar, and I went into it. It has +agitated me." + +"But why should it agitate you?" rejoined the old Rector, who was very +matter-of-fact. "It seems to me that you ought to accustom yourself to +bear these chance meetings with equanimity, child. You can scarcely +expect to go through life without seeing him now and then." + +Adela bent her head to the stile and broke into sobs. Mr. Cleveland +laid his protecting hand upon her shoulder. + +"My dear! my dear! Strive to be calm. Surely a momentary sight of him +ought not to put you into this state. Is it that you still dislike him +so much?" + +"Dislike him!" she exclaimed, the contrast between the word and the +truth striking her painfully, and causing her to say more than she +would have said. "I am dying for his forgiveness; dying to show him +how true is my remorse; dying because I lost him." + +The Rector did not quite see what answer to make to this. He held his +tongue, and Adela resumed. + +"I wish I was a Roman Catholic!" + +The good man, evangelical Protestant, felt as if his gray hair were +standing on end with surprise. "Oh, hush!" said he. "You don't know +what you are saying." + +"I do wish it," she sobbed. "I could then go into a convent, and find +peace." + +"Peace!" echoed Mr. Cleveland. "No, child, don't let your imagination +run away with that idea. It is a false one. No woman, entering a +convent in the frame of mind you seem to be entertaining, could expect +peace, or find it." + +"Any way, I should feel more at rest: I should _have_ to bear life +then, you know. And, oh, I was trying to do so: I was indeed trying!" + +Thoroughly put out, the Rector made no comment. Perhaps would not +trust himself to make any. + +"I suppose there are no such things as Protestant convents, or +sisterhoods," she went on, "that receive poor creatures who have no +longer any place in this world?" + +"Not to my knowledge," sharply spoke Mr. Cleveland, as he jumped off +the stile. "It is time we went home, Adela." + +They walked away side by side. Gaining the Rectory--a large, +straggling, red-brick building, its old walls covered with +time-honoured ivy--Adela ascended to her chamber, and shut herself in +with her grief. + +How scornfully her husband must despise her!--despise her for her past +shame and sin; despise her in her present contemptible humiliation, +she reflected, a low moan escaping her--he so pure and upright in all +his ways, so good and generous and noble! Oh that she could hide to +the end from him and from the world! + +Lifting her trembling hands, her despairing face, Adela breathed a +faint petition that the Most High would be pleased to vouchsafe to her +somewhat of His heavenly comfort, or take her out of the tribulation +that she could so hardly battle with. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. +AN ALARM. + + +It was a few days later. Mrs. Oscar Dalrymple, who had been spending +the afternoon with her mother and Mary Lynn, was preparing to return +to the Grange. Alice had just come home again, a brilliant hectic on +her cheeks, but weaker, as it seemed to them all. Alice was happier +than she had been for years, in her sweet unselfishness. The trouble +which had divided Colonel Hope and his nephew was at an end; Gerard +had been reinstated in his uncle's favour, and was to marry Frances +Chenevix. Lying on the sofa by the window, in the fading light, Alice +had been giving them various particulars of this; and Selina, greatly +interested, lingered longer than she had intended. But she had to go. + +Rising hurriedly, she put on her bonnet and cloak. Mrs. Dalrymple rang +the bell. It was to tell Reuben to be in readiness to attend her +daughter. + +"As if I wanted old Reuben with me, mamma!" exclaimed Selina. "Why, I +shall run home in no time!" + +"He had better be with you," sighed Mrs. Dalrymple: the sigh given to +the disturbed state of things abroad. "The neighbourhood is not very +quiet today, as you know, Selina, and it is growing dusk." + +It was not quiet at all. The summary process, eviction, had been +resorted to by Pinnett, as regarded the tenants of the Mill Cottages. +He had forced them out with violence. One of them, named Thoms, had +resisted to the last. Go out he would not, and the assailants could +not get him out. + +A meeting was to be held this same evening at Farmer Lee's. It could +not be called a secret meeting; the farmer would have disdained the +name; but those about to attend it waited until the dusk should +shelter them, conscious that they were likely to speak treason against +their landlord. + +"Thoms is out," cried Farmer Bumford, as he entered Mr. Lee's house in +excitement. + +"How did they get him out?" + +"Unroofed him, Lee. Pulled his place to pieces bit by bit, and so +forced him out. He is now with the rest of the unfortunate lot." + +"I thought such practices were confined to Ireland," said the honest +farmer. "It's time something was done to protect us. Oscar Dalrymple +will have his sins to answer for." + +It was at this hour, when the autumn twilight was deepening, that +Selina started for home. She chose the way by the common: a longer +way, and in other respects not a desirable one tonight. Selina's +spirit was fearless enough, and she wanted to see whether the rumour +could be true--that the unhappy people, just ejected, had collected +there, meaning to encamp on it. Reuben, with the licence of an old and +faithful servant, remonstrated, begging her to go home by the turnpike +road: but Selina chose to cross the common. + +Surely enough, the unfortunate lot, as Mr. Bumford called them, had +gathered on its outskirts, in view of their late homes, their poor +goods and chattels, much damaged in the mêlée, piled in little heaps +around them. Men, their hearts panting for revenge, sobbing women and +shivering children, there they stood, sat, or lay about. The farmers, +Lee and Bumford, would later on open their barns to them for the +night; but at present they expected to encamp under the stars. + +In the midst of the harsh converse that prevailed, the oaths, and the +abuse lavished on Oscar Dalrymple--for these poor, ignorant labourers +refused, like their betters, to believe that Pinnett could so act +without the landlord's orders--they espied, hurrying past them at a +swift pace, their landlord's wife. Selina walked with her head down; +now that she saw the threatening aspect of affairs, she wished she had +listened to Reuben, and taken the open road. One of them came running +up; a resolute fellow, named Dyke. + +"You'd hurry by, would you?" said he, in tones that spoke more of +plaint than threat. "Won't you turn your eyes once to the ruin your +husband has wrought? Look at the mud and mortar! If the walls weren't +of new brick or costly stone, they was good enough for us. They were +our homes. Look at the spot now." + +Selina trembled visibly. She was aware of the awful feeling abroad +against her husband, and a dread rushed into her heart that they might +be going to visit it on her. Would they ill-use her?--beat her, or +kill her? + +Reuben spoke up: but he was powerless against so many, and he knew it; +therefore his tone was more conciliating than it would otherwise have +been. + +"What do you mean by molesting this lady? Stand away, Dyke, and let +her pass. You wouldn't hurt her; if she is Mr. Dalrymple's wife, she +was the Squire's daughter, and he was always good to you." + +"Stand away yourself, old man; who said we were going to hurt her?" +roughly retorted Dyke. "'Taint likely; and you've said the reason why. +Ma'am, do you see these ruins? Do they make you blush?" + +"I am very sorry to see them, Dyke," answered Selina. "It is no fault +of mine." + +"Is it hard upon us, or not, that we should be turned out of the poor +walls that sheltered us? We paid our bit of rent, all on us; not one +was a defaulter. How would you like to be turned out of your home, and +told the poorhouse was afore you and an order for it, if you liked to +go there?" + +"I can only say how very sorry I am," she returned, distressed as well +as terrified. "I wish I could help you, and put you into better +cottages tomorrow! But I am as powerless as you are." + +"Will you tell the master to do it? We be coming up to ask him. Will +you tell him to come out and face us, and look at the ruins he have +made, and look at our wives and little ones a-shivering there in the +cold?" + +Selina seemed to be shivering as much as they were. "It is Pinnett who +has done it," she said, "not Mr. Dalrymple. You should lay the blame +on him." + +"Pinnett!" roared Dyke, throwing his arm before the other men, now +surrounding them, to silence their murmurings, for he thought his own +eloquence the best. "Would Pinnett have dared to do this without the +master's orders? Pinnett's a tool in his hands. Say to him, ma'am, +please, that we're not going to stand Pinnett's doings and be quiet; +we'll drownd him first, let us once catch hold on him; and we be +coming up to the Grange ourselves to say so to the master." + +Finding she was to be no further detained, Selina sped on to the +Grange. Oscar was in the oak-parlour. She threw herself into a chair, +and burst into tears. + +"Oscar, I have been so terrified. As I came by the common with Reuben, +the men were there, and----" + +"What men?" interrupted Mr. Dalrymple. + +"Those who have been ejected from the cottages. They stopped me, and +began to speak about their wrongs." + +"Their--_wrongs_--did they say?" + +"Yes, and I must say it also," she firmly answered, induced by fright +and excitement to remonstrate against the injustice she had hitherto +not liked to interfere with. "Cruel wrongs. Oscar, if you go on like +this, oppressing all on the estate, you will be murdered as sure as +you are living. They are threatening to drown Pinnett, if they can get +hold of him; and they do not lay the blame on Pinnett, except as your +agent, but on you." + +"Pinnett is not my agent. What Pinnett does, he does on his own score. +As to these harsh measures--as they are called--my sanction was not +asked for them." + +"But the poor men cannot see it in that light, Oscar; cannot be +brought to believe it," she returned, the tears running down her +cheeks. "It does seem so impossible to believe that Pinnett can be +allowed to----" + +"There, that's enough," interrupted Oscar. "Let it end." + +"Yes; but the trouble won't end, Oscar. And the men say they are +coming up here. There's a meeting, too, at Lee's tonight." + +"They can come if they please, and hold as many meetings as they +please," equably observed Oscar. "Men who are living in a state of +semi-rebellion must learn a wholesome lesson." + +"They have been provoked to it. They were never rebellious in papa's +time." + +He made no reply. Selina, her feelings strongly excited, her +sympathies bubbling up, continued. + +"It will be cruel to the farmers if you turn them from their farms; it +is doubly cruel to have forced these poor men from their cottages. +They paid their rent. You should see the miserable wives and children +huddled together on the common. I could not have acted so, Oscar, if I +had not a shilling in the world." + +Mr. Dalrymple wheeled round his chair to face his wife. "Whose cruel +conduct has been the original cause of it?" he asked in his cold +voice, that to her sounded worse than another man's anger. "Who +got into secret debt, to the tune of some seven or eight thousand +pounds--ay, nearer ten thousand, counting expenses--and let the bills +come in to me?" + +She dropped her eyes then, for his reproach was true. + +"And forced me to retrench, almost to starvation, and to exact the +last farthing that the estate will yield, to keep me from a prison? +Was it you or I, Mrs. Dalrymple?" + +"But things need not be made quite so bad," she took courage to say in +a timid tone; "you need not proceed to these extremes." + +"Your father's system was one of indulgence, mine is not; and the +tenants, large and small, don't know what to make of it. As to +Pinnett, he does not consider himself responsible to me for his +actions; and I--I cannot interfere with them. So long as I am a poor +man, struggling to pay your debts, Selina, so long must Pinnett take +his own course." + +Oscar turned back again, caught up the book he had laid down, and went +on reading it. Selina took a seat on the other side of the table, and +sat supporting her head with her hands. She wished things were not so +wretchedly uncomfortable, or that some good fairy would endow her with +a fortune. Suddenly a tramp of feet arose outside the house. Oscar +heard it, unmoved; Selina, her ears covered, did not hear it, or she +might have flown sooner to bar the doors. Before she could effect +this, the malcontents of the common were in the hall, their numbers +considerably augmented. It looked a formidable invasion. Was it murder +they intended?--or arson?--what was it not? Selina, in her terror, +flew to the top of the house, a servant-maid after her: they both, +with one accord, seized upon a rope, and the great alarm-bell boomed +out from the Grange. + +Up came the people from far and near; up came the fire-engines, from +the station close by, and felt exceedingly aggrieved at finding no +fire: the farmers, disturbed in the midst of their pipes and ale, +rushed up from Mr. Lee's. It was nothing but commotion. Old Mrs. +Dalrymple, terrified at the alarm-bell, hastened to the scene, Mary +Lynn with her, and Reuben coming up behind them. + +Contention, prolonged and bitter, was going on in the hall. Oscar +Dalrymple was at one end, listening, and not impatiently, to his +undesirable visitors, who would insist upon being heard at length. He +answered them calmly and civilly, not exasperating them in any way, +but he gave no hope of a change in the existing policy. + +After seeing his mistress seated in the hall, for she insisted on +making one of the audience, poor Reuben, grieved to the heart at the +aspect of affairs altogether, went outside the house, and paced about +in the moonlight. It was a fine, light night. He had strolled near the +stables, when he was accosted by some one who stood aloof, under the +shade of the walls. + +"What's the matter here, that people should be running, in this way, +into the Grange?" + +"I should call it something like a rise," answered Reuben, +sorrowfully. "Are you a stranger, sir?" + +"I am a stranger. Until this night I have not been in the +neighbourhood for years. But I formerly was on intimate terms with the +Dalrymple family, and have stayed here with them for weeks together." + +"Have you, though!" cried Reuben. "In the Squire's time, sir?" + +"In the Squire's time. I remember you, I think. Reuben." + +"Ay, I am Reuben, sir. Sad changes have taken place since then. My old +master's gone, and Mr. Robert is gone, and the Grange is now Oscar +Dalrymple's." + +"I knew of Mr. Dalrymple's death. What became of his son?" + +"He soon followed his father. It will not do to talk of, sir." + +"Do you mean that he died?" returned the stranger. But before Reuben +could answer, Farmer Lee came up and commenced a warm comment on the +night's work. + +"I hope there'll be no bloodshed," said he; "we don't want that; but +the men are growing more excited, and Mr. Dalrymple has sent off a +private messenger to the police-station." + +"This gentleman used to know the family," interposed Reuben; "he has +come to the place tonight for the first time for years. This riot is +a fine welcome for him." + +"I was asking some particulars of what has transpired since my +absence," explained the stranger. "I have been out of England, and now +thought to renew my acquaintance with the family. What did Robert +Dalrymple die of? I knew him well." + +"He fell into trouble, sir," interposed Reuben. "A random, wicked +London set got hold of him, fleeced and ruined him, and he could not +bear up against it." + +"Died of it?" questioned the stranger. + +"He put an end to himself," said Mr. Lee, in a low tone. "Threw +himself into the Thames from one of the London bridges, and was +drowned." + +"How deplorable! And so the Grange passed to Oscar Dalrymple." + +"Yes," said the farmer. "He married the eldest of the young ladies, +Selina, and something not pleasant arose with them. They went to +London, and there she ran very deeply into debt. Her husband brought +her back to the Grange; and since then he has been an awful landlord, +grinding us all down to powder. Things have come to such a pass now +that we expect a riot. The poor labourers who tenanted the Mill +Cottages have been ejected today; they have come up to have it out +with Oscar Dalrymple, leaving their families and chairs and tables on +the common. One of them, Thoms, could not be forced out, so they just +took his roof off and his doors out." + +The stranger seemed painfully surprised. "I never thought to hear this +of a Dalrymple!" + +But here Reuben again interposed. Jealous for the name, even though +borne by Oscar, he told of the leasing of the estate to Pinnett, and +that it was he, not Oscar, who was proceeding to these cruel +extremities. + +"I should call that so much nonsense," said the stranger. "Lease the +estate! that has a curious sound. Has he leased away all power over +it? One cannot believe that." + +"No; and we don't believe it," said the farmer, "not one of us; Mr. +Dalrymple can't make us, though he tries hard to do so. He is playing +Old Nick with us, sir, and nothing else. It was a fatal night for us +that took Mr. Robert." + +"You would have been better off under him, you think?" + +"Think!" indignantly retorted the farmer. "You could not have known +Robert Dalrymple to ask it." + +"Robert Dalrymple died in debt, I take it. Did he owe much in this +neighbourhood?" + +"Nothing here." + +"Did he owe you anything?" + +"Me!" cried the farmer. "Not he. Why, only a day before his death I +had sent five hundred pounds to him to invest for me. He had not time +to do it himself, but a gentleman who took a great deal of interest in +Mr. Robert, and saw to his affairs afterwards, did it." + +"What gentleman was that?" + +"It was Mr. Grubb: he is Sir Francis Netherleigh now, and has come +into Court Netherleigh. His sister--who is at the Grange tonight with +old Mrs. Dalrymple--and Mr. Robert were to have been married. She has +stayed single for his sake." + +"Robert Dalrymple may not be dead," spoke the stranger. + +But this hypothesis was received with disfavour; not to say scorn. The +stranger maintained his opinion, saying that it was his opinion. + +"Then perhaps you'll enjoy your opinion in private," rebuked Mr. Lee. +"To talk in that senseless manner only makes us feel the fact of his +death more sharply." + +"What if I tell you I met him abroad, only a year ago?" There was a +dead pause. Reuben breathed heavily. "Oh, don't play with us!" he +cried out; "if my dear young master's alive, let me know it. But he +cannot be alive," he added mournfully: "he would have made it known to +us before now." + +The stranger unwound a large handkerchief, in which his face and chin +had been muffled, raised his soft round hat from his brows, and +advanced from the shade into the moonlight. + +"Reuben! John Lee! do I look anything like him?" + +Reuben sank on his knees, too faint to support himself in the +overwhelming surprise and joy. For it was indeed his young master, +Robert Dalrymple, raised, as it seemed, from a many years' grave. The +old servant broke into sobs that would not be controlled. + +"But it is nothing less than magic," cried the farmer, when he had +wrung Robert's hand as if he would wring it off, and both he and +Reuben had had time to take in the full truth of the revelation. +"Dead--yet living!" + +"I never was dead," said Robert. "The night that I found myself +irretrievably ruined----" + +But here Robert Dalrymple's explanation was interrupted by a noise. +The malcontents, driven wild by Oscar's cold equanimity, which they +took to be purely supercilious, were rushing out of the Grange by the +front-entrance, fierce threats and oaths pouring from their lips. +Oscar Dalrymple might go to perdition! They'd fire the place over his +head, commencing with the barns and outhouses! + +"Stay, stay, stay! let me have a few words with you before you begin," +spoke one, meeting them with assured, but kind authority; and his calm +voice acted like oil poured upon troubled waters. + +It was Sir Francis Netherleigh. Hearing of the riot, he had hastened +up. He reasoned with the men, promised to see what he could do to get +their wrongs redressed, told them that certain barns and outhouses of +his were being warmed and made comfortable for them for the night, and +their wives and children were already on their way to take possession. +Finally, he subdued them to peace and good temper. + +But while this was taking place in front of the house, there had been +another bit of by-play near the stables. Mary Lynn, terrified for the +effect of the riotous threats on Mrs. Dalrymple in her precarious +state of health, begged her to return home, and ran out to look +for Reuben. Mr. Lee discerned her leaning over the gate of the +kitchen-garden, gazing about on all sides in the moonlight. A bright +idea struck him, quite a little bit of romance. + +"I'll fetch her to you here, Mr. Robert," he said. "I'll break the +glad news to her carefully. And--_you_ won't turn as out of our homes, +will you, sir?" he lingered to say. + +"That I certainly will not; and those who are already out shall go +back again. But," added Robert, smiling, "I fear I shall be obliged to +turn somebody out of the Grange." + +"There's Pinnett, sir?" came the next doubting remark. "If Mr. Oscar +Dalrymple has leased him the estate, who knows but the law may give +him full power over us----" + +"Leased him the estate!" interposed Robert. "Why, my good friend, it +was not Oscar Dalrymple's to lease: it was mine. Be at rest." + +Relieved at heart, the farmer marched up to Mary; managing, despite +the most ingenious intentions, to startle and confuse her. He opened +the conference by telling her, with an uncomfortably mysterious air, +that a dead man had come to life again who was waiting to see her: and +Mary's thoughts, greatly disturbed, flew to a poor labourer who had +died, really died, that morning. + +"What do you mean, Mr. Lee?" she interrupted, with some awe. "You +can't know what you are saying. Colter come to life again!" + +"There! I know how I always bungle over this sort o' thing," cried the +abashed farmer. "You must just forgive me. And you can well afford to, +Miss Mary, for it's not Colter come to life at all; it is young Mr. +Robert Dalrymple. And here he is, walking towards you." + +The farmer discreetly disappeared. Mary tottered into the shade, and +stood for support against the trunk of the great elm-tree. Robert drew +her from it to the shelter of his faithful heart. + +"Yes; it is I, my darling; I, myself--do not tremble so," he +whispered. "God has been very merciful to me, more merciful than I +deserve, and has brought me back to you and to home again." + +She lay there, on his breast, the strong arms around her that would +henceforth be her shelter throughout life. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. +ROBERT DALRYMPLE. + + +Sundry shouts startling the night-air, combined with the dashing up of +horsemen, caused no little stir amidst the crowd. The booming of the +alarm-bell somewhat earlier in the evening had been less ominous than +this. + +They were the police-officers from Netherleigh, sent for by Oscar +Dalrymple, and they had come mounted, for the sake of speed. The +moon had gone under a cloud, the old structure, Moat Grange, +appeared shadowy and indistinct, and to the imagination of these poor +excited labourers, assembled to discuss their position, the three +officers--for there were but three--looked magnified into a formidable +number. Sir Francis Netherleigh had appeased their anger, but he could +not subdue the sense of wrong that burnt in the men's minds; and when +he left them, they, instead of dispersing quietly in accordance with +his recommendation, lingered where they were, and whispered together +of Pinnett and of treason. + +On the other side of the house was a group, more peaceful, but not a +whit less excited. Of all the surprises met with by Francis +Netherleigh in his own life, he had never had so complete a one as +this, or one so satisfactory. Searching about after malcontents that +might have scattered themselves, he came round by the outhouses and +the kitchen-garden; and there he saw a stranger talking with his +sister Mary, Farmer Lee and Reuben standing at a little distance. The +moon was bright then; the stranger stood bareheaded, and there was +that in his form and in the outlines of his face that thrilled chords +in the memory of Sir Francis. + +"Don't be frightened, sir," spoke Farmer Leo to him, in whispered +tones, as befitted the wonderful subject; "it is himself, and not his +ghost. It is, indeed." + +"But _who_ is it?" cried Sir Francis, his eyes strained earnestly on +the stranger. + +"Himself, I say, sir--Robert Dalrymple." + +"Robert Dalrymple!" + +"Ay. Come back from the dead, as one may say. He made himself known to +me and Reuben; and then I went and broke the news to Miss Mary. And +there they both are, talking together." + +But Mary had discerned her brother, and they were coming forward. "Is +it possible to believe it?" asked Sir Francis, as they met, his hand +clasping Robert's with a warm grasp. + +"I think you may; I think you cannot fail to recognize me, changed and +aged though I know I am," answered Robert, with an emotion that +bordered upon tears. + +"You have been alive all this time--and not dead, as we have deplored +you?" + +"Yes, all this time; and I never knew until a little while ago that I +was looked upon as dead." + +"But what became of you, Robert? It was thought, that dreadful night, +that you----" + +"Threw myself into the Thames," put in Robert, in the slight pause +made by Sir Francis. They were all standing together now, Mary a +little apart, her hand upon the gate, and the moonlight flickered on +them through the branches of the thinning autumn trees. "I was very +near doing it," he continued; "nearer than any one, save God, can +know. It was a dreadful night to me, one of shame and despair. Knowing +myself to be irretrievably ruined, a rogue upon earth----" + +"Hold there, sir," cried Reuben, "a rogue you never were." + +"I was, Reuben. And you shall all hear how. Mary,"--turning to +her--"_you_ shall hear also. A beggar myself, I staked that night at +the gaming-table the money I held of yours, Lee, the five hundred +pounds you had entrusted to me, staked it, and lost it. I cannot +understand how you--but I'll leave that just now. The money gone, I +wandered about the streets, a desperate man, and found myself on +Westminster Bridge. It was in my heart to leap into the river, to take +the blind leap into futurity my uncle had taken before me. I was +almost in the very act of doing it, when a passer-by, seeing my +perilous position, pulled me back, and asked what I meant by hanging +over there. It is to him I owe my life." + +"Under God," breathed Mary, remembering her dream. + +"Ay," assented Robert, "under God. It proved to be one Joseph Horn, a +young man employed at my tailor's, and he recognized me. I made an +excuse about the heat of the night, that I was leaning over for a +breath of air from the water: and finally Horn left me. But the +incident had served to arrest my purpose; to show me my folly and my +sin. I am not ashamed to confess that I knelt down, there and then, to +ask God to help me, and to save me from myself; and--He did it. I +quitted the dangerous spot----" + +"Your hat was found in the Thames, and brought back the next day, Mr. +Robert," interrupted poor, bewildered, happy Reuben. + +"It blew off, into the river; it was one of the windiest nights I was +ever out in, except at sea," answered Robert. "I walked about the +streets till morning, taking myself sharply to task, and considering +how I could give myself a chance for a better life. I had still my +watch and ring, both of value--they would have gone long before, just +as everything else had gone, but that they had been my father's, and +were given over by him to me on his death-bed. I parted with them now, +disguised myself in rough clothes, went to Liverpool, and thence to +America." + +"But why did you not come to me instead?" asked Sir Francis. + +"I was ashamed to do so. Look at the debts I owed; at what I had done +with Lee's money! No, there was nothing for it but to hide my head +from you all, and from the world. Had I made a fortune, I should have +come back in triumph, but I never did make it. I found employment as a +clerk at New Orleans, and kept myself; that was all." + +"If you had only just let us know you were alive, Robert!" cried Mary. + +He shook his head. "I did not suppose any one would care to know it. I +expected that the extent of my villainy had come out, and that you +would all be thankful if I disappeared for ever. So there I remained, +in the Crescent City, passing as 'Mr. Charles,' my second name, and +making the best of my blighted life. I"--his tone suddenly changed to +laughter--"nearly married and settled there." + +"Oh!"--Mary gave quite a start. + +"I had an excellent offer; yes, I assure you I had. It was leap-year. +A flourishing widow, some few years older than myself, took a fancy to +me. She had a fine house and grounds on the banks of the Mississippi, +and an income not to be despised; and she proposed that I should throw +up my wearisome daily work and become the master of all this--and of +her. I took it into consideration, I can tell you." + +"And what prevented your accepting it?" laughed Sir Francis. + +"Well, the one bare thought--it did not amount to hope--that a turn of +good fortune _might_ some time bring me back here, to find"--with a +glance at Mary--"what I have found." + +"And the good fortune came, sir--and has brought you back!" exclaimed +the farmer. + +"Yes; it came," replied Robert, "it came: a turn that was very like +romance, and once more exemplified the saying that truth is stranger +than fiction. You are aware, I think, that my father had a relative +living in Liverpool, Benjamin Dalrymple?" added Robert, chiefly +addressing Sir Francis--who nodded in reply. + +"Benjamin Dalrymple never corresponded with us, would not notice us; a +serious difference had arisen between him and my father in early days. +But, a year after my father's death, when I chanced to be in +Liverpool, I called upon him. He was cordial enough with me, seemed +rather to take a fancy to me, and I stayed with him three weeks. He +was a cotton-broker, and would take me down to his office in a +morning, and show me his routine of business, verily hoping, I +believe, that I should take to it and join him. When, later, I became +hard up, and had not a shilling to turn to in the world, I wrote to +Benjamin Dalrymple from London, asking him to help me. Not by the +smallest fraction, he replied; a young man who could run into debt, +with my patrimony, would run into debt to the end of the chapter, +though his income might number tens of thousands. Well, all that +passed away; and----" + +Robert paused. + +"The house I served in America exported cotton home in large +quantities," he continued rapidly. "Benjamin Dalrymple was amongst +their larger correspondents. Some few months ago, his confidential +clerk, a taciturn gentleman named Patten, came over on business to New +Orleans, to this very house I was in. He saw me and recognized me; we +had dined together more than once at old Benjamin's table in +Liverpool. Patten had believed me dead; drowned; and it no doubt gave +him a turn when he saw me alive. I told him my history, asking him +not to let it transpire in the old world or the new. But it seems he +considered it his duty to repeat it to old Benjamin on his return +home: and he did so. The result was, that Benjamin set up a +correspondence with me, and finally commanded me to give up my place +as clerk and go back to him. I did so; and I----" + +Again Robert stopped; this time in evident emotion. + +"Go on, Robert," said Sir Francis. "What is it?" + +"My story has a sad ending," answered Robert, his tone depressed. "I +landed at Liverpool to find Benjamin Dalrymple ill with a mortal +illness. He had been ailing for some time, but the fatal truth had +then declared itself. He was so changed, too!--I suppose people do +change when they are about to die. From being a cold, hard man, he had +become gentle and loving in manner. I must remain with him until the +end, he said, and be to him as a son." + +"Was he not married, sir?" asked Farmer Lee. + +"He had never married. I did remain with him, doing what I could for +him, and making no end of promises, which he exacted, with regard to +my future life and conduct. In twenty-one days, exactly, from the day +I landed, the end came." + +"He died?" + +"He died. I waited for his funeral. And," concluded Robert, modestly, +"he has made me his heir." + +"Thank Heaven for that!" murmured old Reuben. + +"How much it is, I cannot tell you," said Robert, "but an enormous +sum. Patten puts it down at half a million: and, that, after clerks +and other dependents have been well provided for. So, every one who +has ever suffered by me in the shape of debt will be recompensed; and +Moat Grange will hold its own again." + +But his return had to be made known to others who were interested in +it: his mother, his sisters, Oscar Dalrymple. Of the latter Robert +spoke some hard words. + +"I had thought to give him a fair portion of this wealth in right of +Selina," avowed he. "But I don't know now. A man who can so oppress an +estate does not merit much favour." + +"Oscar has been worse thought of than he deserves," explained Sir +Francis Netherleigh. "Rely upon that, Robert. He has been sorely +tried, sorely put to for money for some few years now, through no +fault of his own----" + +"No; through Selina's," interrupted Robert. "Old Benjamin knew all +about it." + +"He has been striving to make both ends meet, to pay his obligations +justly and honourably, and he could only do it by dint of pinching and +screwing," went on Sir Francis. "The great mistake of his later life +was leasing the estate to Pinnett. It is thought that he could have +arrested Pinnett's harsh acts; my opinion is that he could not." + +"I am glad to hear you say so," cried Robert, cordially. "Oscar was +always near, but he was just." + +They were moving slowly through the garden to the house, when a +disturbance struck upon their ears. It came from the front of the +Grange; and all, except Mary, hastened round to the scene. It was, in +fact, the moment of the arrival of the mounted police. The officers +shouted, the crowd rebelled; and Oscar Dalrymple ran out. The police, +hasty as usual, were for taking up the malcontents wholesale; the +latter resisted, protesting they had done nothing to be taken up for. +They had only come up to speak to Mr. Dalrymple, and "there was no law +against that," said they. + +"You break the law when you use threats to a man in his own house," +cried Featherston, the chief constable. + +"We haven't used no threats," retorted Dyke. "We want an answer from +Mr. Dalrymple; whether he's going to force us to lodge under the wind +and the rain, or whether he'll find us roofs in place of them he has +destroyed. They've bid us go to the workhouse; but he knows that if we +go there we lose all chance of getting our living, and shall never +have a home for our families again." + +"There's no longer room for you on the estate; no dwellings for you +left upon it," spoke up a voice; and the men turned sharply, for they +knew it was Pinnett's. Countenanced by the presence of the constables, +the agent came out from some shelter or other, and showed himself +openly. + +"We won't say nothing about mercy," savagely cried Dyke; "but we'd +like justice. Justice, sir!" turning to Oscar Dalrymple, as he stood +by the side of Mr. Cleveland, who had just come up. "Hands off, Mr. +Constable! I'm doing nothing yet, save asking a plain question. Is +there any justice?" + +"Yes, there is justice," interrupted another voice, which thrilled +through the very marrow of Oscar Dalrymple, as Robert advanced and +took his place near Mr. Cleveland, who started back in positive +fright. "Oscar, you know me, I see; gentlemen, some of you know me: I +am Robert Dalrymple, and I have returned to claim my own." + +Was it a spectre? Many of them looked as if they feared so. Was it +some deception of the moonlight? Featherston, brave policeman though +he was, backed away in terror. + +"I find you have all thought me dead," proceeded Robert; "but I am not +dead, and never was dead; I have simply been abroad. I fell into debt +and difficulty; but, now that the difficulties are over, I have come +amongst you again." + +"It's the Squire!" burst forth the men, as they gradually awoke to the +truth; "we've never called the other one so. Our own young Squire's +come home again, and our troubles are over. Good luck to the ship that +brought him!" + +Robert laughed. "Yes, your troubles shall be over. I hear that there +has been dissatisfaction; and, perhaps, oppression. I can only say +that I will set everything right. The tenants who have been served +with a notice to quit"--glancing round at Lee and Bumford--"may burn +it; and you, my poor fellows, who have been ejected from your +cottages, shall be reinstalled in them." + +"But, my dear young master," cried Dyke, despondingly, "some of the +roofs be off, and the walls be pretty nigh levelled with the ground." + +"I will build them up for you, Dyke, stronger than ever," said +Robert, heartily. "Here's my hand upon it." + +Not only Dyke, but many more pressed forward to clasp Robert's hands; +and so hard and earnest were the pressures, that Robert was almost +tempted to cry for quarter. In the midst of this, Pinnett thought it +time to speak. + +"You talk rather fast, sir: even if you are Mr. Robert Dalrymple. The +estate is mine for some six years to come. It has been leased to me by +its owner." + +"That it certainly has not been," returned Robert, his tone one of +conscious power. "I am its owner. The estate has been mine throughout; +as I did not die, it could not have lapsed from me. My brother-in-law, +acting under a mistake, entered into possession, but he has never been +the legal owner. Consequently, whatever acts be may have ordered, +performed, or sanctioned, are NULL and VOID. Constables, I think your +services will not be required here." + +Pinnett ground his teeth. "It's to know whether you _are_ Robert +Dalrymple--and not an impostor." + +"I can certify that it is really Robert Dalrymple; I baptized him," +laughed Mr. Cleveland. "There is no mistaking him and his handsome +face." + +"And I and Mr. Lee can swear to it, if you like," put in Reuben, +looking at Pinnett. "So could the rest of us. I wish we were all as +sure of heaven!" + +Robert put his hand into Oscar's under cover of the darkness. "You +know me, Oscar, well enough. Let us be friends. I have not come home +to sow discord; rather peace and goodwill. The Grange must be mine +again, you know; I can't help that; but, when you and Selina quit it +for your own place, you shall not go out empty-handed. + +"I don't understand you," returned Oscar. + +"I have come back a rich man; and you shall share in the good. Next to +endowing my mother, I shall take care of my sisters. Ah, Oscar, these +past few years have been full of gloom and trouble for many of us. Now +that the clouds have broken, let us hope that the future will bring +with it a good deal of sunshine." + +The assemblage began to disperse. Mr. Cleveland undertook to break the +glad news to Mrs. Dalrymple and Selina. + +Reuben crept up to his master with an anxious, troubled face. "Mr. +Robert," he breathed, "have you quite left off the--the PLAY? You will +not be tempted to take to it again?" + +"Never, Reuben," was the grave, hushed answer. "That night, which you +all thought fatal to me, and which was so near being so, as I stood on +the bridge, looking into the dark water, I took a solemn oath that I +would never again touch a card, or any other incentive to gambling. I +never shall." + +"Heaven be praised!" murmured Reuben. And the old man felt that he was +ready to say with Simeon of old: "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant +depart in peace." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. +LADY ADELA. + + +Winter had come, and passed; and spring flowers and sunshine gladdened +the land. + +In my Lady Acorn's dressing-room at Chenevix House stood my lady +herself, her head and hands betraying temper, her tart tongue in loud +assertion. Opposite to her, the same blonde, suave dame she had ever +been, waited Madame Damereau. Madame was not tart or rude; she could +not be that; but nevertheless she maintained her own cause, and gave +my lady answer for answer. + +Every available place in the room was covered with a robe, bonnet, +mantle, or other choice article essential to a lady's attire: on the +sofa lay a costly bridal dress. You might have fancied it the +show-room itself of Madame Damereau. Lady Frances Chenevix was to be +married on the morrow to Gerard Hope. The colonel had been telling +them both ever since Christmas that he thought they ought to fix the +day if they meant to marry at all, and so arrangements were made, and +they named one early in April. + +The articles lying about formed part of the trousseau of Lady Frances; +the grievance distracting Lady Acorn was connected with them; for she +saw great many more spread out than she had ordered, and was giving +way to wrath. Madame Damereau, condescending to appear at Chenevix +House this afternoon, to superintend, herself, the trying-on of the +bridal robe, had arrived just in time for the storm. + +"Was anything so unreasonable, was anything so extravagant ever seen +before in this world?" demanded Lady Acorn, spreading out her arms to +right and left. "I tell you there are fifty things here that I +never ordered; that I never should order, unless I lost my senses. +Look at that costly silk costume--that shaded grey--why, you'd charge +five-and-twenty guineas for that, if you charged a farthing. Don't +tell me, madame." + +"Plutôt thirty guineas, I believe," equably answered madame. "It is of +the richest, that silk. Miladi Frances intends it for her robe de +voyage tomorrow." + +"She may intend to go voyaging about in gold, but be no nearer doing +it," retorted the countess. "I never ordered that dress, and I won't +take it." + +"Is anything the matter?" interrupted a joyous voice at this juncture, +and Frances ran into the room with her bonnet on. "I am sorry to have +kept you waiting, madame, but I could not help it. Is my lady mother +scolding at my extravagance?" + +"Extravagance is not the name for it," retorted the countess. "How +dare you do these wild things, Frances? Do you suppose I should accept +all these things, or pay for them?" + +"No, mamma, I knew you would not," laughed Frances, "I shall pay for +them myself." + +"Oh, indeed! Where will the money come from?" + +"Colonel Hope gave it me," said the happy girl, executing a pirouette. +"A few days ago he put three bank-notes of one hundred pounds each +into my hands, saying he supposed I could spend it; and I went to +madame's at once. What a love of a costume!" cried Frances, turning to +the grey silk which had so excited her mother's ire. "I am going away +in that." + +But the great event of this afternoon, that of trying-on the bridal +dress, must be proceeded with, for Madame Damereau's time was more +precious than that of ordinary mortals. The bride-elect was arrayed in +it, and was pacing about in her splendour, peeping into all the +mirrors, when a message was brought to Lady Acorn that Mr. Cleveland +was below. He had come up from Netherleigh to perform the marriage +ceremony, and was to be the guest for a day or two of Lord and Lady +Acorn. + +She went down at once, leaving Frances and Madame Damereau. There were +many odds and ends of Netherleigh gossip she wished to hear from the +Rector. He was bending over the drawing-room fire. + +"Are you cold?" inquired Lady Acorn. + +"Rather. As we grow older, we feel the cold and fatigue of a journey +more keenly," he added, smiling. "It is a regular April day: warm in +the sun, very cold in the wind and shade." + +"He is getting older," thought Lady Acorn, as she looked at his face, +chilled and grey, and his whitening hair; though, for a wonder, she +did not tell him so. They had not met for some months. He had paid no +visit to London since the previous November, and then his errand had +been the same as now--to celebrate a marriage. + +And, of the events of the past autumn and winter months there is not +much to relate. Oscar Dalrymple was in his own place now, Knutford, +Selina with a handsome income settled on her; and Robert and his wife +lived at Moat Grange. They had been married from Grosvenor Square in +November, Mr. Cleveland, as again now, coming up for it. Lady Adela +was still at Netherleigh Rectory. And, perhaps it was of her that the +countess wanted chiefly to question the Rector. She did not, however, +do that all at once. + +"All quite well at home?" she asked. + +"Tolerably so, thank you," he replied. "Mary, as you know, is ailing: +and will be for some little time to come." + +"Dear me, yes," came the quick, irritable assent. "This baby will make +the third. I can't think what you want with so many." + +The Rector laughed. "Mary sent her love to you; and especially to +Frances: and I was to be sure to say to Frances how sorry she was not +to be able to be at her wedding. Adela also sent her love." + +"Ah! And how is _she?_" + +"She----" Mr. Cleveland hesitated. "She is much the same. Tolerably +well in health, I think." + +"I suppose Robert Dalrymple and his wife are coming up today?" + +"They came with me. Francis Netherleigh's carriage was waiting for +them at the terminus. It brought me on also." + +"And that poor girl Alice, is she any stronger?" + +"She will never be stronger in this world," said the Rector, shaking +his head. "But she is pretty well--for her. I think her life may be +prolonged some few years yet." + +"She and Gerard Hope had a love affair once; I am pretty sure of it. +He liked her better than he liked Frances." + +"Well, she could never have married. One so sickly as Alice ought not +to become a wife; and she had, I expect, the good sense to see that. +I know she is pleased at his marriage with Frances. She is most +unselfish; truly good; there are not many like Alice Dalrymple. Her +mother is surprisingly well," he went on, after a pause; "seems to +have gone from an old woman into a young one. Robert's coming back did +that for her." + +"And now--what about Adela's behaviour? how is she going on?" snapped +Lady Acorn, as if the very subject soured her. + +"I wanted to speak to you about Adela," said Mr. Cleveland. "In one +sense of the word, she is not going on satisfactorily. Though her +health is pretty good, I believe, her mind is anything but healthy. +Mary and I often talk of it in private, and she said I had better +speak to you." + +"Why, it is just the case of the MacIvors over again!" interrupted +Lady Acorn. "Harriet sent Sandy to talk to me about it, just in this +way, last summer." + +"Yes, there has not been much change since then, I fancy. I confess +that I am very sorry for Adela." + +"Is she still like a shadow?" + +"Like little else. The fever of the mind is consuming the body. I look +upon it as the most hopeless case I have ever known. Adela does the +same, though from a different point of view. She is dying for her +husband's forgiveness. She would like to live in his memory as one not +abjectly despicable, and she knows she must and does so live in it. +She pictures his contempt for her, his condemnation of the way she +acted in the past; and her humiliation, coupled with remorse, has +grown into a disease. Yes, it is a miserable case. They are as +entirely and hopelessly separated as they could be by death." + +"Ah, Cleveland! You are here, then?" + +The interruption came from the earl. He stepped forward to shake +hands, and drew a chair beside the Rector. + +"We were talking of Adela," said the countess, when the few words of +greeting were over. "She has not come to her senses yet." + +"I was saying that her case is certainly one of the most hopeless ever +known," observed Mr. Cleveland. "She is as utterly separated from her +husband as she could be by death, whilst both are yet living, and have +probably a long life before them." + +Lord Acorn sighed. "One can't help being sorry for Adela, wrong and +mistaken though she was." + +Mr. Cleveland glanced at the earl. "I am glad you came in," he said. +"I wanted to speak to you as well as to Lady Acorn. Adela talks of +going into a Sisterhood." + +"Into a _what?_" cried her ladyship; her tone one of unbounded +surprise. + +"She has had the idea in her mind for some time, I fancy," continued +the Rector. "I heard of it first last autumn, when she startled me one +day by suddenly expressing a wish that she was a Roman Catholic. I +found that the wish did not proceed from any desire to change her +creed, but simply because the Roman Catholics possess places of refuge +in the shape of convents, into which a poor creature, as Adela +expressed it, tired of having no longer a place in the world, might +enter, and find peace." + +"She'd soon wish herself out again!" cried Lady Acorn: while the +earl's generally impassive face wore a look of disturbance. + +"I heard no more of this for some time," resumed Mr. Cleveland, "and +dismissed it from my memory, believing it to have been only a hasty +expression arising from some moment's vexation. But a week or two ago +Mary discovered that Adela was really and truly thinking of retiring +into some place of refuge or other." + +"Into a convent?" cried Lady Acorn. + +"No. And not into any institution of the Roman Catholics. It seems she +has been corresponding lately with some of her former acquaintances, +who might, as she thought, help her, and making inquiries of them. I +noticed that letters came for her rather frequently, and I hoped she +was beginning to take a little more interest in life. However, through +some person or other, she has heard of an institution that she feels +inclined to try. I think----" + +"What is this institution?" imperatively demanded the countess. "If +it's not a convent, what is it?" + +"Well, it is not, as I gather, a religious institution at all, in the +sense of setting itself up for religion especially, or professing any +one particular creed over other creeds," replied Mr. Cleveland. "It +is, in point of fact, a nursing institution. And Adela, if she enters +it, will have to attend to the sick, night or day." + +"Heaven help her for a simpleton!" ejaculated her ladyship. "Why, you +might take every occupation known to this world, and not find one to +which she is less suited. Adela could not nurse the sick, however good +her will night be. She has no vocation for it." + +"Just what my wife says. Some people are, so to say, born nurses, +while others, and Adela is one of them, could never fit themselves for +it. Mary told her so only yesterday. To this, and to other +remonstrance, Adela has only one answer--that the probationary +training she will have to undergo will remedy her defects and +inexperience," replied the Rector. + +"But the life of a sick-nurse is so exhausting, so wearying to the +frame and spirit!" cried Lord Acorn, who had listened in dismay. +"Where is this place?" + +"It is in Yorkshire. Three or four ladies, sisters, middle-aged, +educated women of fortune, set up the scheme. Wishing, it is said, to +satisfy their consciences by doing some useful work in the world, they +pitched upon nursing, and began by going out of their home, first one +and then another, whenever any poor peasant turned sick. They were, no +doubt, good Christian women, sacrificing their own ease, comfort, and +income for the benefit of others. From that arose the Institution, as +it is called now; other ladies joined it, and it is known far and +wide. I have not one word to say against it: rather would I speak in +its praise; but it will not do for Adela. Perhaps you can remonstrate +with her. It is not settled, I believe," added Mr. Cleveland. "Adela +has not finally made up her mind to go; though Mary fears she will do +so at once." + +"Let her," cried the countess, in her vexation. "Let my young lady +give the place a trial! She will soon come out of it again." + +In truth, poor Adela was at a loss what to do with her blighted +life--how to get through the weary days that had no pleasure in them. +Netherleigh Rectory had brought to her no more rest than Sir Sandy's +Scottish stronghold had brought, or the bleak old château in +Switzerland. She wanted peace, and she found it not. + +Some excitement crept into the daily monotony of her life whenever Sir +Francis was staying at Court Netherleigh. It was not often. She could +not bear to see him, for it brought back to her all the cruel pain of +having lost him; and yet, when she knew he was at Netherleigh, she was +unable to rest indoors, but must go out in the hope that she should +meet him at some safe distance; for she never ventured within view. It +was as a fever. And perhaps this very fact--that she could not, when +he was breathing the same atmosphere, rest without striving to see +him, combined with the consciousness that she ought not to do +so--rendered her more anxious to get away from Netherleigh and be +employed, mentally and bodily, at some wholesome daily work. Anyway, +what Mr. Cleveland stated was quite true: Lady Adela was corresponding +with this nursing institution in Yorkshire, with the view of entering +it. + +One phase of torment, which has not been mentioned, was growing to lie +so heavily upon her mind as to be almost insupportable. It was the +thought of the income allowed her by her husband. That she, who had +blighted his life, should be living upon his bounty, indebted to him +for every luxury that remained to her, was in truth hard to bear. If +she could only get a living for herself, though ever so poor a one, +how thankful she should be, she often told herself. And, perhaps this +trouble turned the scale, or speedily would turn it, in regard to +embracing this life of usefulness: for there would no longer be any +necessity for the allowance from Sir Francis. + + +The wedding-day, Thursday, rose bright and glorious; just the day that +should shine on all happy bridals. Frances was given away by her +father, and Gerard was attended by a former fellow-clerk in the Red +Tape Office. Colonel Hope had settled an income upon his nephew; but +Gerard was still in the house in Leadenhall Street, and was likely to +remain there: for the colonel disapproved of idle young men. Gerard +had taken a small and pretty house at Richmond, and would travel to +the City of a morning. + +At the wedding breakfast-table at Lord Acorn's, Grace and Sir Francis +Netherleigh sat side by side. Towards its close, Grace took the +opportunity of saying something to him in a whisper. + +"We have been so confidential on many points for years, you and I, +unhappily have had to be so," she began, "that I think I scarcely need +make an apology, or ask your forgiveness, for a few words I wish to +say to you now." + +"Say on, Grace," was the cordial answer. + +"It is about Adela." And then she briefly touched upon what her father +and mother had heard from Mr. Cleveland the day before: of Adela's +unhappy frame of mind, and her idea of entering a nursing institution, +to become one of its sisterhood. + +Sir Francis heard her to the end in silence. But he heard her +apparently without interest: and somehow Grace's anxious spirit felt +thrown back upon itself. + +"It has troubled us all to hear this, my father especially," she said. +"It would be so laborious a life, so very unsuited to one delicate as +Adela." + +"I can readily understand that you would not altogether like it," he +replied, at length. "If money could be of any use----" + +"Oh no, no," interrupted Grace, flushing painfully. "The allowance you +have made from the first has been so wonderfully liberal. I don't know +why I mentioned the subject to you--except that we think it is +altogether undesirable for Adela." + +"Lord and Lady Acorn must be the best judges of that," was the very +indifferent answer. + +"Her mind is in the most unhappy state conceivable; as it has been all +along. For one thing," added Grace, her voice sinking to a yet lower +key, "I think she is pining for your forgiveness." + +"That is not at all likely, I fancy," coldly returned Sir Francis. And +as he evinced no inclination to continue the subject, but rather the +contrary, Grace said no more. + +She could not have told herself why she introduced it. Had it been +with any hope, consciously, or unconsciously, of being of service to +Adela, it had signally failed. Evidently his wife and her concerns +were topics that bore no longer any interest for Francis Netherleigh. + + + + +CHAPTER XL. +AT COURT NETHERLEIGH. + + +"Oh, Robert, what a lovely day!" + +Standing at the open window of her own pretty sitting-room, a room +that had been built and decorated for her during the late alterations +to Moat Grange, was Mary Dalrymple. Robert, heated and flushed, had +come swinging in at the gate, and caught the words across the lawn. He +had been out since early morning, superintending various matters; for +today was the grand fête-day at Moat Grange, and preparations were +being made for it. + +Robert called it a house-warming. He had talked of it, as a thing to +come, ever since his marvellous return--and marvellous the world +thought that return still: but he had waited for his marriage with +Mary Lynn to take place, and then for the alterations to be completed +that were to make the gloomy old house into a new one, and finally for +the warm summer weather. For this was to be an open-air entertainment, +for the gratification of the poor as well as the rich. Improvements +had gone on without doors as well as within. Those cottages by the old +mill had been rebuilt, and their humble tenants were reinstated. +Gratitude and contentment had taken the place of rebellion, and the +once angry men thought they could never do enough for their young +Squire, Robert Dalrymple. + +"What a lovely day!" repeated Mary. + +It was the first day of June, and one of the sweetest days that +charming month ever put forth. Excepting for a light fleecy cloud here +and there, the sky was of a deep blue; the sun flickered through the +trees, that yet wore somewhat of their tender green, and caught +Robert's head as he stood looking up at his wife. + +"Ay, it is," said Robert, in reply to her remark, "very lovely. But it +will be uncommonly hot, Mary; it is so already." + +She leaned from the window in her cool white morning gown, smiling at +her husband. How good-looking they both were--and how happy! Every now +and then, even yet, Mary could scarcely realize the change--the +intense happiness which had succeeded to the years of what had +appeared irredeemable sorrow. + +"And now, Robert," said Mary, "I think you must want breakfast--if you +have not had it." + +"But I have had it. I ran in to my mother's, and took some with her +and Alice. The tents are all up, Mary, and the people are getting into +their Sunday best." + +"So soon! Don't forget, if you please, sir, that we sit down to lunch +today at one o'clock precisely. We can't do without you then, you +know, though we did without you at breakfast." + +Robert drew a little nearer to the window. "Where are they all?" he +asked. + +"Gone for a stroll. I told them that I had a famished husband coming +in and must wait at home for him. I think Gerard and his wife have +only gone to your mother's. I don't know about Oscar and Selina. +Perhaps she is gone to see the new baby at the Rectory." + +"Selina does not care for babies." + +"But she cares for gossip. And Lady Mary is well enough for any amount +of that." + +"What is that letter in your hand?" asked Robert. + +His wife's face changed to sadness. "It contains bad news, Robert; and +though I have been chattering to you so gaily and lightly, it is lying +on my heart. Francis cannot come." + +"No!" + +"Some dreadful measure--important, he calls it--has to be debated upon +in committee in the House this afternoon, and Francis has to stay for +it." + +"Well, I am disappointed," cried Robert. + +"As we all are. Robert, I do think it is too bad. I do think Francis +might have spared this one day to us," added Mary, with a sigh. "He +seems to regard politics as quite a recreation." + +"Don't be hard on him, Mary. He has little else now in the way of +recreation." + +Gerard Hope and Lady Frances had come to the Grange for the fête: +Gerard having coaxed a three days' holiday out of Mr. Howard, with +whom he was a favourite, though the old gentleman had grumblingly +reminded him that his honeymoon was not long over. Oscar Dalrymple and +Selina had also arrived the previous night from their own place, +Knutford. Perhaps in his heart Oscar had not been sorry to give up the +Grange and its troubles. At any rate, he made no sign of regret. Peace +and plenty had supervened on discomfort, and he and Selina were +friends with all. + +Mary had guessed rightly: Selina had gone to the Rectory. If not to +see the new baby, to see the baby's mother. The baby was more than two +weeks old, and Lady Mary was seated on a sofa, doing some useful work. + +"It is early days for that, is it not?" cried Selina, as she went in. + +"Not at all," laughed Lady Mary. "With all my little ones, I have to +be always at work. And I am thankful to be well enough for it. You +reached the Grange yesterday?" + +"Yes--and found all well. Mamma came up to dinner last night. She is +quite young and active. Gerard and Frances have gone to see Alice, who +is much better--and then Frances is coming here to see you. Every one +seems to be better," concluded Selina.--"And what delightful weather +we have for today!" + +"Where is your husband?" + +"Oscar! He went across the fields to the Mead House to see old +Bridport. What a pity you cannot come out today, Mary! And who else do +you think cannot come out? At least, not out _here_." + +"Who is that?" + +"Francis Netherleigh. Mary Dalrymple heard from him this morning. He +is kept in London by some business connected with the House. He would +have been the star of the fête. Yes, don't laugh at me--he _would_-- +and we are all vexed. I wouldn't be in that House of Commons for the +world," resentfully concluded Selina. "I do think he might have +stretched a point today!" + +"Y-e-s--if he wished to come," was the doubting assent. "The question +is--did he wish it?" + +"What do you mean?" asked Selina. + +Mary Cleveland dropped her needle and looked at Mrs. Oscar Dalrymple. +"It has struck me that he has not cared to come here, you know. +Instead of taking up his abode at Court Netherleigh, he pays only a +flying visit to it now and then. My husband and I both think that he +does not choose to subject himself to the chance of meeting Adela." + +"I should not wonder. They were talking about Adela at the Grange last +night," resumed Selina, in accents of hesitation--"saying something +about her joining a sisterhood of nurses. But I'm sure _that_ can't be +true." + +"It is quite true, Selina." + +Selina opened her amazed eyes. "True! Why, she would have to put her +hair under a huge cap, and wear straight-down cotton gowns and white +aprons!" + +Lady Mary smiled. _That_ part of the programme would assuredly have +kept Selina from entering on anything of the sort. + +"Yes; it is true," repeated Mary. "The negotiations have been pending +for some time; but it is decided at last, and Adela departs for +Yorkshire on Saturday, the day after tomorrow, to shut herself into +the institution." + +"And will she never come out again?" + +Lady Mary shook her head. "We cannot foresee the future, Selina. All +we know is, that Adela is most unfitted for the kind of work, and we +shall be surprised if she does not break down under it. Her frame is +slight and delicate, her instincts are sensitive and refined. Fancy +Adela dressing broken heads, or sitting up for a week with a family of +children ill with fever!" + +Selina put her hands before her eyes. "Oh!" she cried in horror. "But +she surely won't have to do all that?" + +"She will. She must take any case she is appointed to." + +Lady Mary took up her work again, and Selina, serious and sobered for +once in her life, sat revolving what she had heard. + +"Surely she will not do this, Mary!" + +"Indeed she will. She is fully determined to enter upon it, and she +intends that it shall be for life. Her father came down here to +remonstrate with her: he has always had more influence over her than +any one else: but it availed nothing. They were together for an hour +in Adela's sitting-room here--and I could see how distressing to her +the interview had been. Her eyes were swollen with crying." + +"Well, I can't understand it," concluded Selina, rising. "Had it been +a question of necessity, there might be reason in her wanting to make +a guy of herself, but it is not so. Those big linen caps are +dreadful." + +The door of the red parlour was open as Selina gained the hall. Adela +sat there sewing: and Selina went in. How fragile and dainty and +delicate she looked, this still young and lovely woman, in her simple +muslin dress, with a ribbon at her throat and an edging of lace at the +wrists. Selina sat down. + +"At work today, Adela!" + +"I am making frocks for that poor Widow Jeffrey's children. But for +Mr. Cleveland I don't know what they would do, now their father is +gone." + +"But all Netherleigh is en fête today So ought you to be!" + +Adela raised her sad and beautiful eyes to Selina's in some surprise. +"The fête can have nothing to do with me, Selina. I am very glad it is +so fine for it: and I hope every one will enjoy it, yourself +included." + +"Thank you: I'm sure I shall. Adela, what is this we hear about you?" +broke forth Selina, unable to keep silence longer. "You are going to +shut yourself up in a grim building, and wear a most disfiguring +costume, and nurse cases of fever!" + +"Yes," sighed Adela. + +"But you surely never will?" + +"I must do it. I leave for it the day after tomorrow." + +Selina lowered her voice. "Have you sat down and _counted the cost?_" + +"Over and over again. It will be less painful than what I have long +been enduring: bodily discomfort is more tolerable than remorse. I +shall live a useful life, at any rate, Selina. For a long while now it +has been worse than a wasted one." + +"They think--Mary does at least--that you will not be strong enough to +stand the fatigue." + +"I must do my best," sighed Adela. "I hope the strength--in all +ways--will come with the need." + +"I dare say they give nothing but suet puddings for dinner four days +out of the seven!" + +Adela faintly smiled. "I don't expect to find luxuries, Selina." + +"Do you take Darvy?" + +"Darvy!" echoed Lady Adela. "No, indeed. I shall be, so to say, a +servant myself." + +Selina, in very dismay, gave her hands a slight wring. To her, it +seemed that Adela might as well put herself at once out of the world. + +"I must be going," she said, advancing to say farewell. "You are sure +you will not come to the fête, Adela?" + +"I have done with fêtes for ever," replied Adela, as she drew down +Selina's face for a farewell kiss. "Perhaps you will write to me +sometimes?" And Selina Dalrymple, sick and sorry for the blighted +life, went out with her eyes full of tears. + +The day wore on to the afternoon, and the business of the fête began. +Old and young, gentle and simple, the aristocracy surrounding the +neighbourhood, the tenant-farmers and the labourers, all congregated +on the lawns, in the gardens, and in the home field, where the tents +were placed. Of the attendants, Reuben was chief, his fresh face happy +again as of yore. + +Amidst games, dancing, and various other entertainments, there was a +fancy-fair, the proceeds of it to be distributed to the poor: though +indeed it was more for fun than gain, fortune-telling, post-offices, +and mock auctions prevailing. + +Alice Dalrymple had a corner in this tent for her reclining chair, and +watched with pleasure the busy scene. Lady Frances Hope stood by her; +her husband was flitting from stall to stall. Robert's coming back had +worked wonders for Alice. + +"There!" said Gerard, coming up to her, his face gay as usual, +his tone light, as he handed a charming bouquet to Alice: "a fine +squabble I have had to get you this. Ten shillings those keepers of +the flower-stall wanted, if you'll believe me I gave them five, and +told them they were harpies." + +"You should not have bought it for me," smiled Alice, gratefully +inhaling at the same time the scent of the flowers. "You are just what +you always were, Gerard--thinking of every one else, never of self." + +"Why should I think of self?" returned Gerard, his wife having left +them for a distant stall. "But you know you always liked to lecture +me, Alice." + +"For your good," she answered, raising her eyes to his. + +"Was it for my good? Ah, Alice," he added, his tone changing to one of +regret, "if you had only taken me into your hands, as you might have +done--as I prayed you to do--you would have made a Solomon of me for +wisdom----" + +"Hush, Gerard. Best as it is," she impressively whispered, gently +laying her hand upon his. "I was not fit--in any way. As it is, I have +you both to love, and I am supremely happy. And I think you are." + +"Ah, well," quaintly conceded Gerard, "one is warned not to expect +perfect bliss in this sublunary world, so one can only make the best +of what fate and fortune bestow upon us. Would you not like to walk +round and look at the stalls, Alice? You can go comfortably, I think, +on my arm." + +"Thank you; yes, I should like it--if you will take me." + +Amidst the few people of note not at the fête was Lady Adela. She had +kept to her determination not to go near it. Mr. Cleveland had asked +her, when setting out himself, whether she would not go with him just +to have a peep at it, but she said she preferred to sit with Mary. She +had heard the news, spoken openly by the Rector at the luncheon-table, +that Sir Francis Netherleigh was not coming to it. And in Lady Mary's +room she sat, pursuing her work. + +But as the afternoon advanced, and its hours struck, one after the +other, Adela grew weary and restless, needing a little fresh air. She +put on her garden-hat and went out: not with any view of going near +the gaiety, rather of keeping securely away from it. And little fear +was there of her encountering any stragglers, for the feasting was +just beginning, and no Englishman voluntarily walks away from that. + +These later hours of the day, as the earlier ones had been, were warm +and beautiful. Adela walked gently along, until she came to Court +Netherleigh. A sudden impulse prompted her to enter the grounds. She +had never yet done so during these months of sojourn, had always +driven back the almost irrepressible yearning. Surely there would be +no harm in entering now: she did want to see the place once more +before quitting Netherleigh and civilized life for ever. No one +would see her. She was perfectly secure from interruption by Sir +Francis--and from all other people besides, the world and his wife +having gone a-gadding. + +Not by the lodge-gates and the avenue did she enter; but by a little +gate, higher up the road, that she had gone in and out of so often in +the time of Aunt Margery. Drawing near to the house, she sat down +under a group of trees in view of the favourite apartment that used to +be called Miss Margery's parlour, the glass-doors of which were +standing open. Cool and gentle she looked as she sat there; she wore +the same simple muslin gown that she had worn in the morning. +Unfastening the strings of her straw hat, she pushed it somewhat back +from her delicate face, and sat on, thinking of the past. + +Of the past generally and of her own particular part in it--when was +it absent from her memory? Of the means of happiness that had been +bestowed upon her in a degree Heaven seldom vouchsafes to mortal +woman, and of her terrible ingratitude. How different all would have +been now had she only been what she might have been! + +Not only had she wrecked her own life, but also her husband's. The +bitter requital she had dealt out to him day after day and year after +year in return for all the loving care he lavished on her, was very +present to her now. For a long while past she had pined for his +forgiveness--just to hear him speak it; she coveted it more than ever +now that she was about to put all chance of hearing it beyond +possibility. God's pardon she hoped she was obtaining, for she prayed +for it night and day--but she yearned for her husband's. + +It was close upon two years since he put her away from him and from +her home. It would be two years next Christmas since Miss Margery +died. All that time to have been feeding the bitter grief that played +upon her heart-strings!--to have been doing perpetual battle with her +remorse! + +Lost in these regrets, Adela sat on, taking no heed of the time, when +a movement caught her eye. Some one, who appeared to have come in by +the same little gate, was striding towards the house. With a faint +exclamation of dismay, Adela drew back within the trees. For it was +her husband. + +Of all the world that could intrude, she had deemed herself most +secure from _him_: knowing that he was detained in London, and could not +be down. How was it, ran her tumultuous thoughts. She supposed--what +was indeed the truth--that he had at the last found himself able to +come. + +Yes, but only for an hour or two. She did not know that he had got +down at midday, had been to the fête, and was now on his way back to +the train, calling at home on his road. He made straight for the open +doors of Miss Margery's room, and went in. + +A strange impulse seized upon Adela. What if she dared speak to him +now? to sue for the forgiveness for which her heart seemed breaking? +He could not kill her for it: and perhaps he might speak it--and she +should carry with her to her isolation so much of peace. + +Without pausing to weigh the words she should utter, or the +consequences of her act, she glided after him into the room. Sir +Francis stood at a table, his back to the window, apparently taking +some papers out of his pocketbook. The sudden darkening of the +light, for she made no noise, must have caused him to turn: and there +they stood face to face, each gazing, if they so minded, at the +ravages time had made in the other. She was the more changed. Her +once-brilliant eyes were sad and gentle, her cheeks bore the hectic of +emotion, all the haughtiness had gone out of her sweet face for ever. +And he? He was noble as always, but his hair had grey threads in it, +and his forehead was lined. + +"May I be allowed to speak to you for a moment?" she panted, breaking +the silence, yet hardly able to articulate "I--I----" And then she +broke down from sheer inability to draw breath. + +He stood quite still by the table, as if waiting, his tall form drawn +to its full height, his face and bearing perfectly calm. But he made +no answer. + +"I beg your pardon," she humbly began again, having halted just inside +the window. "I would not have presumed to follow you in, or to speak +to you, but that it is the last opportunity we shall have of meeting +on earth. I go away the day after tomorrow to seclude myself from the +world; and I--I cannot go without your forgiveness. When I saw you +come in now, not knowing even that you were at Netherleigh--an impulse +I could not resist brought me after you to ask you to forgive me. Just +to ask it!" + +But still Sir Francis did not answer. Poor Adela, now white, now +hectic, went on, in her weak and imploring tone. + +"It has seemed to me that if I went away for good without your +forgiveness, I should almost die as the days went on--knowing that I +could never ask it then. If you could believe how truly, how bitterly +I have repented, perhaps you would not in pity withhold it from me. +Will you not give it me? Will you not hear me?" she added, lifting her +trembling hands, as he yet made no sign. "God forgives: will not you +forgive also?" + +Advancing, she sank on her knees before him, as he stood; her sad face +lifted to his in yearning. He drew a step back: he had listened in +impassive silence; but he spoke now. + +"Rise, rise, Lady Adela. Do not kneel to me." + +She bent forward; she laid her poor weak hands upon him; the scalding +tears began to stream down her face, so pitiful in its sad entreaty. +Sir Francis gently touched her hands with his, essaying to raise her; +a cold, distant touch, evidently not of goodwill. + +"Lady Adela, I will not say another word, or allow you to say one, +until you rise. You must be aware that you are only vexing me." + +She rose to her feet obediently. She stood still, apart from him. He +drew back yet, and stood still also, his arms folded. + +"Tell me what it is you wish. I scarcely understand." + +"Only your forgiveness, your pardon for the past. It will be a comfort +to carry it with me where I am going." + +"Where is it that you are going?" + +"I am going to join some ladies in Yorkshire, who pass their time in +nursing the poor and sick," she answered. "It is called a Sisterhood. +I have been thinking that perhaps in that retirement, and in the +occupation it will entail, I may find peace. Once entered, I feel sure +I shall never have courage to leave it: therefore I know that we shall +not meet again." + +He did not speak. + +"And I should like to thank you, if I may dare, for all your +consideration, your generous loving-kindness. Believe me, that, in the +midst of the humiliation of accepting it, I have been grateful. When +once I have entered this refuge, the necessity for your bounty will +cease. Thank you deeply for all." + +"You are tired of the world?" + +"Yes. It has been to me so full of shame and misery." + +"Do you know that you brought a great deal of misery upon _me?_" + +"Oh, it is the consciousness of _that_ that is killing me. If I could +undo it with my life, I would; and be thankful. The recollection of +the past, the cruel remorse ever haunting my conscience, has well-nigh +crushed me. I want you to say that you will try to be happy in your +life; there will be less impediment, perhaps, now that I shall be far +away: I shall be to you as one dead. If I could only know that you +were happy! that I have not quite blighted your life, as I have my +own!" + +"Do you like the idea of entering this retreat?" + +"As well as I could like anything that can be open to me in this +world now. It will be a refuge; and I dare to hope--I have dared to +_pray_--that I may in time gain peace." + +"Could the past come over again, you would, then, be a different wife +to me?" + +"Don't reproach me," she sobbed. "None can know how cruel my fate is, +how bitter my repentance. Will you not be merciful?--will you not say +that you forgive me before I go away for ever?" + +"Yes, Adela, I will say it," he answered then. "I forgive you from my +heart. I will say more. If you do wish to atone for the past, to be my +true and loving wife, these arms are open to you." + +He opened them as he spoke. She staggered back, unable to comprehend +or believe. He did not move: simply stood still where he was, his +extended arms inviting her. + +"Do not mock me, pray," she feebly wailed. "Do not be cruel: you were +never that. I have told you how bitterly I repent--that my remorse is +greater than I can bear. If my life could undo the past, could atone +to you in the least degree, I would gladly lay it down." + +"Adela, I am not mocking you. You cannot surely think it, knowing me +as you do. You may come back to me, if you will, and be once more my +dear wife. My arms are waiting for you; my heart is waiting for you: +it shall be as you will." + +Panting, breathless, the hectic coming and going on her wasted cheeks, +she slowly, doubtfully advanced; and when near him she halted and fell +at his feet. His own breath was shortening, emotion nearly overcame +him. Raising her, he enfolded her to his loving heart. + +For a little while, as she lay in his arms, their tears mingled +together; ay, even his were falling. A moment of agitation, such as +this, does not often visit a man during his lifetime. + +"There must be no mistake in future, Adela? You will be to me a loving +wife?" + +Once more, in deep humiliation, she bent before him. "Your loving and +faithful wife for ever and for ever." + + +Quietly enough they walked, side by side, through the park. Who, +watching them, could have suspected the agitation just lived through, +the momentous change that had taken place in their lives? Sir Francis +went on his way to the railway-station, for he had to go back to +London. Adela returned to the Rectory. + +And that night, in the solitude of her chamber, its window open to the +stars of the summer sky, she spent hours on her knees in prayer and +thanksgiving. + +On the following morning Mr. Cleveland took Adela to Chenevix House. +Sir Francis had been there to prepare the way for her. It was great +news for the earl and countess; but it had not much diminished my +lady's tartness. She had been too angry with Adela to come round at +once. + +"Do you know where you are going this evening, Adela?" Grace asked her +in a whisper, a happy light in her eyes. + +"No. Where?" + +"Francis Netherleigh has some mission that is taking him to Paris--my +belief is, he has improvised it. He starts tonight, and he will take +you with him--if you are very good." + +"How kind he is!" murmured Adela. + +"Have a care how you behave in future, Adela," said her father, in +solemn admonition that evening, as Sir Francis stood ready to take her +out to his carriage, which waited to convey them to the station. + +"I will, papa: Heaven helping me. Good-bye, dear mamma." + +"Oh, good-bye, and a pleasant journey to you! It's more than you +deserve," retorted my lady. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. +CONCLUSION. + + +There is little more to relate. + +On just such a lovely June day as described above, and twelve months +later, another fête took place. But this time it was at Court +Netherleigh. Not an open-air fête, this, or one on a large scale, for +only a few chosen friends had been invited to it. + +In the morning, in Netherleigh Church, and at the hands of the good +Rector, the infant heir of Court Netherleigh had been made one of +Christ's fold. + +Court Netherleigh was made their chief home by Sir Francis and his +wife. Grosvenor Square was visited occasionally, but not for very long +together. Adela's tastes had totally changed: fashion and frivolity no +longer held chief places in her heart: higher aims and duties had +superseded them. Lady Mary Cleveland herself was not so actively +anxious for the welfare of the poor and distressed as was Adela, +Netherleigh. + + + "Sweet are the uses of adversity, + Which like a toad, ugly and venomous, + Wears yet a precious jewel in its head." + + +As she stood this morning at the baptismal font, her child in the arms +of Mr. Cleveland, tears of joy silently trickled down her face. Hardly +a day or a night of this latter twelvemonth, but they had risen in +gratitude, contrasting what had been with what was. + +Lord and Lady Acorn were present; and Grace, who was godmother, held +the baby in readiness for the clergyman. Mr. Howard had come down with +Colonel and Lady Sarah Hope; Robert Dalrymple and Mary were there from +Moat Grange, and the Rector's wife. + +While walking back to Court Netherleigh after the ceremony, the party +were joined by another guest--Sir Turtle Kite. + +Sir Turtle's presence was quite unexpected. Deeply sensible of the +service he once rendered them--for, had the little alderman chosen to +be crusty then, where would Charles Cleveland have been, where Lady +Adela?--the Acorn family had not dropped him with the passing moment. +Neither had Sir Francis Netherleigh. On this particular day--a very +splendid one in London--the knight chanced to think he should like to +air himself in the sunbeams, and take a holiday. Remembering the +standing invitation to Court Netherleigh--of which he had not yet +availed himself--and knowing that Sir Francis was staying there and +not in Grosvenor Square, Sir Turtle travelled down, and met the party +as they were going home from church. + +"Dear me I am very sorry," he cried, somewhat disconcerted. "I had no +idea--I had better go home again." + +"Not a bit of it," said Sir Francis, heartily, as he clasped his hand. +"You are all the more welcome. I am sure you will like to join us in +good wishes to my little boy. Adela will show him to you." + +So Sir Turtle's beaming face made one at the luncheon-table, none so +delighted as he. And he surreptitiously scribbled a note in his +pocketbook to purchase the handsomest christening-cup that could be +found for money. + +Luncheon over, they went out into the charming sunshine, some +strolling hither and thither, some taking refuge on the shaded benches +under the trees. Adela gained possession of her baby in the nursery, +and carried him out to show him to Sir Turtle. He was a fine little +fellow of six weeks old, promising to be as noble-looking as his +father, and certainly possessing his beautiful grey-blue eyes. + +"What is its name?" asked Sir Turtle, venturing to pat the soft little +cheek with his forefinger, and rather at a loss what to say, for he +did not understand as much about babies as he did about tallow. + +"Francis," answered Adela. "Francis Upton. I would not have had any +name but Francis for the world, and my husband thought he would like +to add Upton, in remembrance of Miss Upton who used to live here." + +"Francis is a very nice name; better than mine," observed Sir Turtle, +sitting down by Adela. "And who are its godfathers?" he resumed, still +at sea as to the proper things to be said of a baby. + +"My father is one, Mr. Howard the other. Sir Francis fixed upon papa, +and I upon Mr. Howard. Formerly I used not to like Mr. Howard," +ingenuously added Lady Adela, "but I have learnt his worth." + +"Ay, a worthy man, my lady; first-rate in business. Talking of +business," broke off the little alderman, glad, no doubt, to leave the +subject of the baby, but none the less inopportunely, "do you chance +to know what has become of a young fellow who got into some trouble at +Grubb and Howard's--the Rector's son, yonder"--nodding towards Mr. +Cleveland--"Charles, I think, his name was. I have often wished to ask +about him." + +Lady Adela bent over her child, as if to do something to its cap: her +face had flushed blood-red. + +"Charles Cleveland is in India," she said. "He is doing well, very +well. My husband was--was very kind to him, and pushes him forward. He +is kind to every one." + +Rising rather abruptly from the bench, she gave the baby to the nurse +and went into the house. Her mother, standing at one of the windows of +the large drawing-room, turned round as she entered. + +"What have you been doing to flush your face so, Adela?" called out my +lady--for it was glowing still. + +"Oh, nothing: the sun perhaps," answered Adela, carelessly. + +"You were talking with Sir Turtle Kite." + +"Yes, he was looking at baby, and asking me his name. I told him his +father's--Francis." + +"Ah," said Lady Acorn, with her irrepressible propensity for bringing +up disagreeable reminiscences, "I remember the time when you would not +have your child's name Francis, because it was your husband's." + +"Oh, mamma, don't! That was in the mistaken years of long ago." + +"And I hope you were civil to Sir Turtle," continued my lady: "you +seemed to leave him very abruptly. He is a funny little round-headed +man, and nothing but an alderman; but he means well. Think what _your_ +fate might have been now--but for his--his clemency." + +"If you would _please_ not recall these things, mother!" besought +Adela, meekly, tears starting to her eyes. "Especially today, when we +are all so happy." + +Somehow the past, with all its terrible mistakes and the misery they +had entailed, came rushing upon her mind so vividly that she could not +control her emotion. Passing into the next room, and not perceiving +her husband, her sobs broke forth. He came forward. + +"My love, what is it?" + +"Only----" + +"Nay, tell me." + +"Something mamma said made me think of that cruel time when--when I +was so wrong and wicked. Francis, the shame and sin seemed all to come +back again." + +He held her before him; his tone one of tender reproof. "But the shame +and sin never can come back, Adela. My wife, you know it." + +"I know how good you are. And I know how merciful to me God has been," +she replied, glancing at him through her wet lashes, with eyes full of +love and devotion. + +"Very merciful: very merciful to me and to you," whispered Francis +Netherleigh. "Do you know, my darling, that through all that dark +time, I never lost my trust in Him." + + + + +THE END. + + + + +---------------------------------------------------------------- +PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLES. + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Court Netherleigh, by Mrs. Henry Wood + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 58774 *** |