THE LONG VACATION

BY

CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

How the children leave us, and no traces Linger of that smiling angel-band, Gone, for ever gone, and in their places Weary men and anxious women stand. ADELAIDE A. PROCTOR

PREFACE

If a book by an author who must call herself a veteran should betaken up by readers of a younger generation, they are begged toconsider the first few chapters as a sort of prologue, introduced forthe sake of those of elder years, who were kind enough to beinterested in the domestic politics of the Mohuns and the Underwoods. 

Continuations are proverbially failures, and yet it is perhaps aconsequence of the writer's realization of characters that some seemas if they could not be parted with, and must be carried on in themind, and not only have their after-fates described, but their mindsand opinions under the modifications of advancing years and alteredcircumstances. 

Turner and other artists have been known literally to see colours inabsolutely different hues as they grew older, and so no doubt it iswith thinkers. The outlines may be the same, the tints areinsensibly modified and altered, and the effect thus far changed. 

Thus it is with the writers of fiction. The young write in fullsympathy with, as well as for, the young, they have a pensivesatisfaction in feeling and depicting the full pathos of a tragedy, and on the other hand they delight in their own mirth, and fullyshare it with the beings of their imagination, or they work out greatquestions with the unhesitating decision of their youth. 

But those who write in elder years look on at their young people, notwith inner sympathy but from the outside. Their affections andcomprehension are with the fathers, mothers, and aunts; they dread, rather than seek, piteous scenes, and they have learnt that there aretwo sides to a question, that there are many stages in human life, and that the success or failure of early enthusiasm leaves a gooddeal more yet to come. 

Thus the vivid fancy passes away, which the young are carried alongwith, and the older feel refreshed by; there is still a sense ofexperience, and a pleasure in tracing the perspective from anotherpoint of sight, where what was once distant has become near at hand, the earnest of many a day-dream has been gained, and more than oneideal has been tried, and merits and demerits have become apparent. 

And thus it is hoped that the Long Vacation may not be devoid ofinterest for readers who have sympathized in early days withBeechcroft, Stoneborough, and Vale Leston, when they were peopledwith the outcome of a youthful mind, and that they may be ready tolook with interest on the perplexities and successes attending on thematured characters in after years. 

If they will feel as if they were on a visit to friends grown older, with their children about them, and if the young will forgive theseeing with elder eyes, and observing instead of participating, thatis all the veteran author would ask. 

 C. M. YONGE. 

Elderfield, January 31, 1895. 

CONTENTS

I. A CHAPTER OF RETROSPECT

II. A CHAPTER OF TWADDLE

III. DARBY AND JOAN

IV. SLUM, SEA, OR SEASON

V. A HAPPY SPRITE

VI. ST. ANDREW'S ROCK

VII. THE HOPE OF VANDERKIST

VIII. THE MOUSE-TRAP

IX. OUT BEYOND

X. NOBLESSE OBLIGE

XI. HEROES AND HERO-WORSHIP

XII. THE LITTLE BUTTERFLY

XIII. TWO SIDES OF A SHIELD AGAIN

XIV. BUTTERFLY'S NECTAR

XV. A POOR FOREIGN WIDOW

XVI. "SEE, THE CONQUERING HERO COMES"

XVII. EXCLUDED

XVIII. THE EVIL STAR

XXX. SHOP-DRESSING

XX. FRENCH LEAVE

XXI. THE MASQUE

XXII. THE REGATTA

XXIII. ILLUMINATIONS

XXIV. COUNSELS OF PATIENCE

XXV. DESDICHADO

XXVI. THE SILENT STAR

XXVII. THE RED MANTLE

XXVIII. ROCCA MARINA

XXIX. ROWENA AND HER RIVAL

XXX. DREAMS AND NIGHTINGALES

XXXI. THE COLD SHOULDER

XXXII. THE TEST OF DAY-DREAMS

XXXIII. A MISSIONARY WEDDING

XXXIV. RIGHTED

THE LONG VACATION

CHAPTER I. A CHAPTER OF RETROSPECT

Sorrow He gives and pain, good store;Toil to bear, for the neck which bore;For duties rendered, a duty more;And lessons spelled in the painful lore Of a war which is waged eternally. -—ANON. 

"Ah! my Gerald boy! There you are! Quite well?"

Gerald Underwood, of slight delicate mould, with refined, transparent-looking features, and with hair and budding moustache toofair for his large dark eyes, came bounding up the broad stair, tothe embrace of the aunt who stood at the top, a little lame ladysupported by an ivory-headed staff. Her deep blue eyes, darkeyebrows, and sweet though piquant face were framed by the straightcrape line of widowhood, whence a soft white veil hung on hershoulders. 

"Cherie sweet! You are well? And the Vicar?"

"Getting on. How are they all at Vale Leston?"

"All right. Your mother got to church on Easter-day. " This was toAnna Vanderkist, a young person of the plump partridge order, andfair, rosy countenance ever ready for smiles and laughter. 

"Here are no end of flowers, " as the butler brought a hamper. 

"Daffodils! Oh!-—and anemones! How delicious! I must take Clementa bunch of those dear white violets. I know where they came from, "and she held them to her lips. "Some primroses too, I hope. "

"A few; but the main body, tied up in tight bunches likecauliflowers, I dropped at Kensington Palace Gardens. "

"A yellow primrose is much more than a yellow primrose at present, "said Mrs. Grinstead, picking out the few spared from politicalpurposes. "Clement will want his button-hole, to greet Lance. "

"So he is advanced to button-holes! And Lance?"

"He is coming up for the Press dinner, and will sleep here, to beready for Primrose-day. "

"That's prime, whatever brings him. "

"There, children, go and _do_ the flowers, and drink tea. I am goingto read to your uncle to keep him fresh for Lance. "

"How bright she looks, " said Gerald, as Anna began collecting vasesfrom the tables in a drawing-room not professionally artistic, butentirely domestic, and full of grace and charm of taste, looking overa suburban garden fresh with budding spring to a church spire. 

"The thought of Uncle Lance has cheered them both very much. "

"So the Vicar is really recovering?"

"Since Cousin Marilda flew at the curates, and told them that if theycame near him with their worries, they should never see a farthing ofhers! And they are all well at home? Is anything going on?"

"Chiefly defence of the copses from primrose marauders. You know thegreat agitation. They want to set up a china clay factory onPenbeacon, and turn the Ewe, not to say the Leston, into milk andwater. "

"The wretches! But they can't. It is yours. "

"Not the western quarry; but they cannot get the stream without apiece of the land which belongs to Hodnet's farm, for which they makeastounding bids; but, any way, nothing can be done till I am of age, when the lease to Hodnet is out, except by Act of Parliament, whichis hardly worth while, considering—-"

"That you are near twenty. But surely you won't consent?"

"Well, I don't want to break all your hearts, Cherie's especially, but why should all that space be nothing but a playground for usUnderwoods, instead of making work for the million?"

"And a horrid, nasty million it would be, " retorted Anna. "You bornYankee! Don't worry Aunt Cherry about profaning the Ewe, just tospoil good calico with nasty yellow dust. "

"I don't want to worry her, but there never were such groovy peopleas you are! I shall think it over, and make up my mind by the time Ihave the power. "

"I wish you had to wait till five-and-twenty, so as to get more timeand sense. "

Gerald laughed, and sauntered away. He was not Yankee, except thathe had been born at Boston. His father was English, his mother aHungarian singer, who had divorced and deserted his father, thene'er-do-weel second son of an old family. When Gerald was fiveyears old his father was killed, and he himself severely injured, ina raid of the Indians far west, and he was brought home by an oldfriend of the family. His eldest uncle's death made him heir to theestate, but his life was a very frail one till his thirteenth year, when he seemed to have outgrown the shock to spine and nerves. 

Much had befallen the house of Underwood since the days when we tookleave of them, still sorrowing under the loss of the main pillar oftheir house, but sending forth the new founders with good hope. 

Geraldine had made her home at St. Matthew's with her brother Clementand the little delicate orphan Gerald; but after three years she hadyielded to the persevering constancy of Mr. Grinstead, a sculptor ofconsiderable genius and repute, much older than herself, who wasready and willing to be a kind uncle to her little charge, and whointroduced her to all at home or abroad that was refined, intellectual, or beautiful. 

It was in the first summer after their marriage that he was charmedwith the vivacity and musical talent of her young sister Angela, nowupon the world again. Angela had grown up as the pet and playthingof the Sisters of St. Faith's at Dearport, which she regarded asanother home, and when crushed by grief at her eldest brother's deathhad hurried thither for solace. Her family thought her safe there, not realizing how far life is from having its final crisis over atone-and-twenty. New Sisters came in, old ones went to found freshbranches; stricter rules grew, up, and were enforced by a Superiorout of sympathy with the girl, who had always rebelled against whatshe thought dictation. It was decided that she could stay there nolonger, and her brother Lancelot and his wife received her atMarshlands with indignant sympathy for her wrongs; but neither shenor her sister-in-law were made to suit one another. With libertyher spirit and audacity revived, and she showed so much attractiontowards the Salvation Army, that her brother declared their music tohave been the chief deterrent from her becoming a "Hallelujah lass. "However, in a brief visit to London, she so much pleased Mr. Grinstead that he invited her to partake in the winter's journey toItaly. Poor man, he little knew what he undertook. Music, art, Roman Catholic services, and novelty conspired to intoxicate her, andher sister was thankful to carry her off northward before she hadpledged herself to enter a convent. 

Mountain air and scenery, however, proved equally dangerous. Herenterprises inspired the two quiet people with constant fears for herneck; but it was worse when they fell in with a party of veryBohemian artists, whom Mr. Grinstead knew just well enough not to beable to shake them off. The climax came when she started off withthem in costume at daybreak on an expedition to play the zither andsing at a village fete. She came back safe and sound, but Geraldinewas already packed up to take her to Munich, where Charles Audley andStella now were, and to leave her under their charge before she haddriven Mr. Grinstead distracted. 

There was a worse trouble at home. Since the death of his good oldmother and of Felix Underwood, Sir Adrian Vanderkist had been rapidlygoing downhill; as though he had thrown off all restraint, and as ifthe yearly birth of a daughter left him the more free to waste hispatrimony. Little or nothing had been heard direct from poor Aldatill Clement was summoned by a telegram from Ironbeam Park to findhis sister in the utmost danger, with a new-born son by her side, andher husband in the paroxysms of the terrible Nemesis of indulgence inalcohol. 

Sir Adrian had quarrelled with all the family in turn except Clement, and this fact, or else that gentleness towards a sufferer that hadwon on old Fulbert Underwood, led him in a lucid interval to directand sign a hurried will, drawn up by his steward, leaving theReverend Edward Clement Underwood sole guardian to his children, andexecutor, together with his lawyer. It was done without Clement'sknowledge, or he would have remonstrated, for never was there a moretrying bequest than the charge which in a few days he found laid onhim. 

He had of course already made acquaintance with the little girls. Poor children, they had hitherto led a life as dreary as was possibleto children who had each other, and fresh air and open grounds. Their mother was more and more of an invalid, and dreaded that theirfather should take umbrage at the least expense that they caused; sothat they were scrupulously kept out of his way, fed, dressed, andeven educated as plainly as possible by a governess, cheap becauseshe was passe, and made up for her deficiencies by strictnessamounting to harshness, while they learnt to regard each new littlesister's sex as a proof of naughtiness on her part or theirs. 

The first time they ever heard a man's step in the school-roompassage was in those days of undefined sorrow, alarm, and silenceafter the governess had despatched the message to the only relationwhose address she knew. The step came nearer; there was a knock, thesweet, strong voice asked, "Are the poor little girls here?" and the tall figure was on one kneeamong them, gathering as many as he could within his loving arms. Perhaps he recollected Sister Constance among the forlorn flock atBexley; but these were even more desolate, for they had no past oflove and loyalty. But with that embrace it seemed to the four eldersthat their worst days were over. What mattered it to them that they-—all eight of them-—were almost destitute? the birth of the poorlittle male heir preventing the sale of the property, so terriblyencumbered; and the only available maintenance being the £5000 thatMr. Thomas Underwood had settled securely upon their mother. 

They began to know what love and kindness meant. Kind uncles andaunts gathered round them. Their mother seemed to be able to livewhen her twin-sister hung over her, and as soon as she could bemoved, the whole party left the gloom of Ironbeam for Vale Leston, where a house was arranged for them. Lady Vanderkist continued achronic invalid, watched over by her sister Wilmet and her excellentyoung daughter Mary. Robina, who had only one girl, and had notforgotten her training as a teacher, undertook, with the assistanceof Sophia, the second daughter, the education of the little ones; andthe third and fourth, Emilia and Anna, were adopted into thechildless homes of Mrs. Travis Underwood and Mrs. Grinstead, andlived there as daughters. Business cares of the most perplexing kindfell, however, on Clement Underwood's devoted and unaccustomed head, and in the midst arrived a telegram from Charles Audley, summoninghim instantly to Munich. 

Angela was in danger of fulfilling her childish design of marrying aDuke, or at least a Graf. Diplomates could not choose their society, and she had utterly disdained all restraints from "the babies, " asshe chose to call Mr. And Mrs. Audley, and thus the wunderschonesmadchen had fascinated the Count, an unbelieving Roman Catholic ofevil repute, and had derided their remonstrances. 

Clement hurried off, but to find the bird flown. She had come downin the morning, white and tear-stained, and had told Stella that shecould stay no longer, kissed her, and was gone out of the housebefore even Charles could be called. Stella's anxiety, almostdespair, had however been relieved just before her brother's arrivalby an electric message from Vale Leston with the words, "Angela safeat home. "

Letters followed, and told how Robina had found her sobbing upon herbrother Felix's grave. Her explanation was, that on the very nightbefore her proposed betrothal, she had dreamt that she was driftingdown the Ewe in the little boat Miss Ullin, and saw Felix under thewillow-tree holding out his bared arms to her. She said, "Is thatthe scar of the scald?" and his only answer was the call "Angela!Angela!" and with the voice still sounding in her ears, she awoke, and determined instantly to obey the call, coming to her, as shefelt, from another world. If it were only from her own conscience, still it was a cause of great thankfulness to her family, and shesoon made herself very valuable at Vale Leston in a course ofepidemics which ran through the village, and were in some cases verysevere. The doctors declared that two of the little Vanderkists owedtheir lives to her unremitting care. 

Her destiny seemed to be fixed, and she went off radiant to betrained at a London hospital as a nurse. Her faculty in that linewas undoubted. All the men in her ward were devoted to her, and sowere almost all the young doctors; but the matron did not like her, and at the end of the three years, an act of independent treatment ofa patient caused a tremendous commotion, all the greater because manyoutsiders declared that she was right. But it almost led to ageneral expulsion of lady nurses. 

Of course she had to retire, and happily for her, Mother Constancewas just at that time sentenced by her rheumatism to spend the winterin a warm climate. She eagerly claimed Angela's tendance, and justat the end of the year there came an urgent request for a Sister fromEngland to form a foundation in one of the new cities of Australia onthe model of St. Faith's; and thither Mother Constance proceeded, with one Sister and Angela, who had thenceforth gone on so well andquietly that her family hoped the time for Angela's periodicalbreaking out had passed. 

The ensuing years had been tranquil as to family events, though thevarious troubles and perplexities that fell on Clement were endless, both those parochial and ritualistic, and those connected with theVanderkist affairs, where his sister did not spare him her murmurs. Fulbert's death in Australia was a blow both to Lancelot and to him, though they had never had much hope of seeing this brother again. Hehad left the proceeds of his sheep-farm between Lancelot, Bernard, and Angela. 

Thus had passed about fourteen years since the death of Felix, whenkind old Mr. Grinstead died suddenly at a public meeting, leaving hiswidow well endowed, and the possessor of her pretty home at Brompton. When, soon after the blow, her sisters took her to the home at ValeLeston, she had seemed oppressed by the full tide of young lifeoverflowing there, and as if she again felt the full force of theearly sorrow in the loss that she had once said made Vale Leston toher a desolation. On her return to Brompton, she had still been in apassive state, as though the taste of life had gone from her, andthere was nothing to call forth her interest or energy. The firstthing that roused her was the dangerous illness of her brotherClement, the result of blood-poisoning during a mission week in apestilential locality, after a long course of family worries andoverwork in his parish. Low, lingering fever had threatened everyorgan in turn, till in the early days of January, a fatal time in thefamily, he was almost despaired of. However, Dr. Brownlow andLancelot Underwood had strength of mind to run the risk, with theearnest co-operation of Professor Tom May, of a removal to Brompton, where he immediately began to mend, so that he was in April decidedlyconvalescent, though with doubts as to a return to real health, norhad he yet gone beyond his dressing-room, since any exertion wasliable to cause fainting. 

CHAPTER II. A CHAPTER OF TWADDLE

The blessing of my later yearsWas with me when a boy. -—WORDSWORTH. 

When Mrs. Grinstead, on her nephew's arm, came into her drawing-roomafter dinner, she was almost as much dismayed as pleased to find along black figure in a capacious arm-chair by the fire. 

"You adventurous person, " she said, "how came you here?"

"I could not help it, with the prospect of Lancey boy, " he said insmiling excuse, holding out a hand in greeting to Gerald, andthanking Anna, who brought a cushion. 

"Hark! there he is!" and Gerald and Anna sprang forward, but wereonly in time to open the room door, when there was a double cry ofgreeting, not only of the slender, bright-eyed, still youthful-looking uncle, but of the pleasant face of his wife. She exclaimedas Lancelot hung over his brother—-

"Indeed, I would not have come but that I thought he was still in hisroom. "

"That's a very bad compliment, Gertrude, when I have just made myescape. "

"I shall be too much for you, " said Gertrude. "Here, children, takeme off somewhere. "

"To have some dinner, " said Geraldine, her hand on the bell. 

"No, no, Marilda feasted me. "

"Then don't go, " entreated Clement. "It is a treat to look at youtwo sunny people. "

"Let us efface ourselves, and be seen and not heard, " returnedGertrude, sitting down between Gerald and Anna on a distant couch, whence she contemplated the trio-—Clement, of course, with theextreme pallor, languor, and emaciation of long illness, with a browgaining in dignity and expression by the loss of hair, and with alook of weary, placid enjoyment as he listened to the talk of theother two; Lance with bright, sweet animation and cheeriness, stillyoung-looking, though his hair too was scantier and his musical tonessubdued; and Geraldine, pensive in eye and lip, but often sparklingup with flashes of her inborn playfulness, and, like Clement, restingin the sunshine diffused by Lance. This last was the editor andproprietor of the 'Pursuivant', an important local paper, and hadcome up on journalistic business as well as for the fete. Gertrudemeantime had been choosing carpets and curtains. 

"For, " said Lance, with a smack of exultation, "we are actually goingback to our old quarters over the shop. "

"Oh!" A responsive sound of satisfaction from Geraldine. 

"Nothing amiss?" asked Clement. 

"Far from it. We let Marshlands to great advantage, and there aremany reasons for the flitting. I ought to be at head-quarters, andbesides there are the Sundays. We are too many now for picnicking inthe class-room, or sponging on the rectory. "

"And, " said Gertrude, "I dare not put his small family in competitionwith his organ. "

"Besides, " said Lance, "the 'Pursuivant' is more exacting, and theprinting Will Harewood's books has brought in more business—-"

"But how about space? We could squeeze, but can you?"

"We have devoured our two next-door neighbours. There's for you!You know Pratt the dentist had a swell hall-door and staircase, whichwe absorb, so we shall not eat in the back drawing-room, nor come upthe flight which used to be so severe on you, Cherry. "

"I can only remember the arms that helped me up. I have never leftoff dreaming of the dear old step springing up the stair after theday's work, and the whistle to Theodore. "

"Ah, those were the jolly old days!" returned Lance, con amore. 

"Unbroken, " added Clement, in the same tone. 

"Better than Vale Leston?" asked Gertrude. 

"The five years there were, as Felix called those last hours ofdelight, halcyon days, " said Geraldine; "but the real home was in therough and the smooth, the contrivances, the achievements, theexultation at each step on the ladder, the flashes of Edgar, thecrowded holiday times-—all happier than we knew! I hope yourchildren will care as much. "

"Vale Leston is their present paradise, " said Gertrude. "You shouldsee Master Felix's face at the least hope of a visit, and even littleFulbert talks about boat and fish. "

"What have you done with the Lambs?" demanded Clement. 

"They have outgrown the old place in every direction, and have got aspick-and-span chess-board of a villa out on the Minsterham road. "

"They have not more children than you have. "

"Five Lambkins to our four, besides Gussy and Killy, " said Lance;"though A-—which is all that appears of the great Achilles' unluckyname—-is articled to Shapcote, and as for Gussy, or rather Mr. Tanneguy, he is my right hand. "

"We thought him a nice sort of youth when he was improving himself inLondon, " said Clement. 

"You both were very good to him, " said Lance, "and those three yearswere not wasted. He is a far better sub-editor and reporter than Iwas at his age, with his French wit and cleverness. The only fault Ifind with him is that he longs for plate-glass and flummery insteadof old Froggatt's respectable panes. "

"He has become the London assistant, who was our bugbear, " saidGeraldine. 

"I don't know how we should get on without him since we made 'Pur'daily, " said Lance. 

"How old ambitions get realized!" said Geraldine. 

"Does his mother endure the retail work, or has she not higher viewsfor him?" asked Clement. 

"In fact, ever since the first Lambkin came on the stage any onewould have thought those poor boys were her steps, not good oldLamb's; whereas Felix always made a point of noticing them. Gus wasnine years old that last time he was there, while I was ill, and heleft such an impression as to make him the hero model. -—Aye, Gus isfirst-rate. "

"I am glad you have not altered the old shop and office. "

"Catch me! But we are enlarging the reading-room, and the new pressdemands space. Then there's a dining-room for the young men, andwhat do you think I've got? We (not Froggatt, Underwood, and Lamb, but the Church Committee) have bought St. Oswald's buildings for acoffee hotel and young men's lodging-house. "

"Our own, old house. Oh! is Edgar's Great Achilles there still?"

"I rushed up to see. Alas! the barbarians have papered him out. Butwhat do you think I've got? The old cupboard door where all ourheights were marked on our birthdays. "

"He set it up in his office, " said Gertrude. "I think he dancedround it. I know he brought me and all the children to adore it, andshowed us, just like a weather record, where every one shot up afterthe measles, and where Clement got above you, Cherry, and Lanceremained a bonny shrimp. "

"A great move, but it sounds comfortable, " said Clement. 

"Yes; for now Lance will get a proper luncheon, as he never has donesince dear old Mrs. Froggatt died, " said Gertrude, "and he is ananimal that needs to be made to eat! Then the children wantschooling of the new-fashioned kinds. "

All this had become possible through Fulbert's legacy between hisbrothers and unmarried sister, resulting in about £4000 apiece;besides which the firm had gone on prospering. Clement asked whatwas the present circulation of the 'Pursuivant', and as Lance namedit, exclaimed—-

"What would old Froggatt have said, or even Felix?"

"It is his doing, " said Lance, "the lines he traced out. "

"My father says it is the writing with a conscience, " said Gertrude. 

"Yes, with life, faculty, and point, so as to hinder the consciencefrom being a dead weight, " added Geraldine. 

"No wonder, " said Lance, "with such contributors as the Harewoods, and such a war-correspondent as Aubrey May. "

Just then the door began to open, and a black silk personagedisconsolately exclaimed—-

"Master Clement! Master Clem! Wherever is the boy gone, when heought to be in his bed?"

"Ha, Sibby!" cried Lance, catching both hands, and kissing thecheery, withered-apple cheeks of the old nurse. "You see your babyhas begun to run alone. "

"Ah, Master Lance, 'twas your doing. You always was the mischief. "

"No indeed, Sibby, the long boy did it all by himself, before ever Iwas in the house; but I'll bring him back again. "

"May I not stay a little longer, Sibby, " said Clement, ratherpiteously, "to hear Lance sing? I have been looking forward to itall day. "

"If ye'll take yer jelly, sir, " said Sibby, "as it's fainting ye'llbe, and bringing our hearts into our mouths. "

So Sibby administered her jelly, and heard histories of Lance'schildren, then, after exacting a promise that Master Lance shouldonly sing once, she withdrew, as peremptory and almost as happy as inher once crowded nursery. 

"What shall that once be, Clem?" asked Lance. 

"'Lead, kindly Light. '"

"Is it not too much?" he inquired, glancing towards his widowedsister. 

"I want it as much as he does, " she answered fervently. 

At thirty-eight Lance's voice was, if possible, more perfect insweetness, purity, and expression than it had been at twenty, andnever had the poem, connected with all the crises of their jointlives, come more home to their hearts, filling them with aspirationas well as memory. 

Then Lance helped his brother up, and was surprised, after thosecheerful tones, to feel the weight so prone and feeble, that Gerald'ssupport on the other side was welcome. Mrs. Grinstead followed totake Gertrude to her room and find her children's photographs. 

The two young people began to smile as soon as they were left alone. 

"Did you ever see Bexley?" asked Anna. 

"Yes-—an awful hole, " and both indulged in a merry laugh. 

"My mother mentions it with pious horror, " said Anna. 

"Life is much more interesting when it is from hand to mouth, " saidGerald, with a yawn. "If I went in for sentiment, which I don't, itwould be for Fiddler's Ranch; though it is now a great city calledViolinia, with everything like everything else everywhere. "

"Not Uncle Lance. "

"Certainly not. For a man with that splendid talent to bury itbehind a counter, mitigated by a common church organ, is asremarkable as absurd; though he seems to thrive on it. It is a treatto see such innocent rapture, all genuine too!"

"You worn-out old man!" laughed Anna. "Aunt Cherry has always saidthat self-abnegation is the secret of Uncle Lance's charm. "

"All very well in that generation-—ces bons jours quand nous etionssi miserables, " said Gerald, in his low, maundering voice. "Prosperity means the lack of object. "

"Does it?"

"In these days when everything is used up. "

"Not to those two—-"

"Happy folk, never to lose the sense of achievement!"

"Poor old man! You talk as if you were twenty years older than UncleLance. "

"I sometimes think I am, and that I left my youth at Fiddler'sRanch. "

Wherewith he strolled to the piano, and began to improvise somethingso yearning and melancholy that Anna was not sorry when her unclecame back and mentioned the tune the old cow died of. 

Was Gerald, the orphan of Fiddler's Ranch, to be always the spoiltchild of prosperity and the creature of modern life, with moreaspirations than he saw how to fulfil, hampered as he was by duties, scruples, and affections?

CHAPTER III. DARBY AND JOAN

 My reason haply moreTo bandy word for word and frown for frown;But now I see our lances are but straws! SHAKESPEARE. 

Lancelot saw his brother's doctors the next morning, and communicatedto his wife the upshot of the interview when they were driving totheir meeting in Mrs. Grinstead's victoria, each adorned with a bigbunch of primroses. 

"Two doctors! and not Tom, " said Gertrude. 

"Both Brownlows. Tom knows them well, and wrote. One lives at theEast-end, and is sheet anchor to Whittingtonia. He began withClement, but made the case over to the cousin, the fashionable one, when we made the great removal. "

"So they consulted?"

"And fairly see the way out of the wood, though not by any means quitof it, poor Tina; but there's a great deal to be thankful for, " saidLance, with a long breath. 

"Indeed there is!" said the wife, with a squeeze of the hand. "Butis there any more to be feared?"

"Everything, " Lance answered; "heart chiefly, but the lungs are notsafe. He has been whirling his unfortunate machine faster andfaster, till no wonder the mainspring has all but broken down. Hisideal always was working himself to death, and only Felix couldwithhold him, so now he has fairly run himself down. No rest fromthat tremendous parish work, with the bothers about curates, schoolboards and board schools, and the threatened ritual prosecution, which came to nothing, but worried him almost as much as if it hadgone on, besides all the trouble about poor Alda, and the loss ofFulbert took a great deal out of him. When Somers got a living, there was no one to look after him, and he never took warning. Sowhen in that Stinksmeech Mission he breathed pestiferous air anddrank pestiferous water, he was finished up. They've got typhus downthere-—a very good thing too, " he added vindictively. 

"I put it further back than Mr. Somers' going, " said Gertrude. "Henever was properly looked after since Cherry married. What is he todo now?"

"Just nothing. If he wishes to live or have a chance of workingagain, he must go to the seaside and vegetate, attempt nothing forthe next six months, nor even think about St. Matthew's for a year, and, as they told me afterwards, be only able to go on cautiouslyeven then. "

"How did he take it?"

"He laid his head against Cherry, who was standing by his chair, putan arm round her, and said, 'There!' and she gave him such a smile asI would not have missed seeing on any account. 'Mine now, ' she said. 'Best!' he said. He is too much tired and worn out to vex himselfabout anything. "

"Where are they to go? Not to Ewmouth, or all the family worrieswould come upon them. Alda would give him no peace. "

"Certainly not there. Brownlow advises Rockquay. His delicatebrother is a curate there, and it agrees with him better than anyother place. So I am to go and see for a house for them. It is thevery best thing for Cherry. "

"Indeed it is. Was not she like herself last night? Anna says shehas never brightened up so much before! I do believe that if Clementgoes on mending, the dear person will have a good time yet; nay, allthe better now that she is free to be a thorough-going Underwoodagain. "

"You Underwooder than Underwood!"

"Exactly! I never did like-—Yes, Lance, I am going to have it out. I do think Clement would have done better to let her alone. "

"He did let her alone. He told me so. "

"Yes, but she let out to me the difference between that time and theone of the first offer when dear Felix could not keep back hisdelight at keeping her; whereas she could not help seeing that shewas a burthen on Clement's soul, between fear of neglecting her andthat whirl of parish work, and that St. Wulstan's Hall was wanted forthe girls' school. Besides, Wilmet persuaded her. "

"She did. But it turned out well. The old man worshipped her, andshe was very fond of him. "

"Oh! very well in a way, but you know better, Lance. "

"Well, perhaps he did not begin young enough. He was a good, religious man, but Pro Ecclesia Dei had not been his war-cry from hisyouth, and he did not understand, and thought it clerical; good, butoutside his life. Still, she was happy. "

"Petting, Society, Art, travels! I had rather have had our two firstyears of tiffs than all that sort of happiness. "

"Tiffs! I thought we might have gone in for the Dunmow flitch. "

"You might! Do you mean that you forget how fractious and nasty andabominable I was, and how many headaches I gave you?"

"Only what you had to put up with. "

"You don't recollect that first visit of my father's, when I was sofrightfully cross because you said we must ask the Lambs and Brucesto dinner? You came down in the morning white as a ghost, an owl inits blinkers, and though I know you would rather have died than haveuttered a word, no sooner were you off than he fell upon me with, 'Mrs. Daisy, I give you to understand that you haven't a husband madeof such tough commodity as you are used to at home, and if you worryhim you will have to rue it. '"

"What an ass I must have looked! Did I really go playing themartyr?"

"A very smiling martyr, pretending to be awfully jolly. I believe Irequited papa by being very cross. "

"At his interfering, eh? No wonder. "

"Chiefly to conceal my fright, but I did begin trying not to fly outas I used to do, and I was frightened whenever I did so. "

"Poor Daisy! That is why you always seemed to think every headacheyour fault. "

"The final effect-—I won't say cure-—was from that book on educationwhich said that a child should never know a cross word or lookbetween father and mother. So you really have forgotten how horrid Icould be?"

"Or never felt it! But to return to our muttons. I can't believeotherwise than that Cherry liked her old man, and if their parallellines did not meet, she never found it out. "

"That is true. She liked him and leant on him, and was constantlypleased and amused as well as idolized, but I don't think the deepplaces in her heart were stirred. Then there were constraints. Hecould not stand Angela's freaks. And his politics-—"

"He was not so very much advanced. "

"Enough not to like the 'Pursuivant' to lie about, nor her writingfor it, even about art or books; nor did his old bones enjoy therivers at Vale Leston. Now you will see a rebound. "

"Or will she be too tender of him to do what he disliked?"

"That will be the test. Now she has Clement, I expect an articlewill come on the first book they read together. "

Lance laughed, but returned to defend his sister. 

"Indeed she was attached to him. She was altogether drooping andcrushed at Vale Leston in the autumn. "

"It was too soon. She was overdone with the multitudes, and in factit was more the renewal of the old sorrow than the new one. Annatells me that when they returned there was the same objectlessdepression. She would not take up her painting again, she said itwas of no use, there was no one to care. I remember her being askedonce to do something for the Kyrle Society, and Mr. Grinstead did notlike it, but now Clement's illness has made a break, and in a newplace, with him to occupy her instead of only that dawdling boy, youwill see what you shall see!"

"Ah! Gerald!" was the answer, in a doubtful, wistful tone, just asthey arrived. 

CHAPTER IV. SLUM, SEA, OR SEASON

For in spite of all her mother had taught her, She was really remarkably fond of the water. JANE TAYLOR. 

Mr. And Mrs. Lancelot Underwood had not long been gone to theirmeeting when there ran into the drawing-room a girl a year older thanAnna, with a taller, better figure, but a less clear complexion, namely Emilia, the adopted child of Mr. Travis Underwood. She foundAnna freshening up the flowers, and Gerald in an arm-chair reading aweekly paper. 

"I knew I should find you, " she cried, kissing Anna, while Geraldheld out a finger or two without rising. "I thought you would not begone primrosing. "

"A perspicacity that does you credit, " said Gerald, still behind hispaper. 

"Are the cousins gone?" asked Anna. 

"Of course they are; Cousin Marilda, in a bonnet like a primrosebank, is to pick up Fernan somewhere, but I told her I was too trueto my principles to let wild horses drag me there. "

"Let alone fat tame ones, " ejaculated Gerald. 

"What did she say?" asked Anna. 

"Oh, she opened her eyes, and said she never should ask any one toact against principles, but principles in her time were for Churchand State. Is Aunt Cherry in the vortex?"

"No, she is reading to Uncle Clem, or about the house somewhere. Idon't think she would go now at least. "

"Uncle Grin's memory would forbid, " muttered Gerald. "He saw a goodmany things, though he was a regular old-fashioned Whig, an EdinburghReview man. "

"You've got the 'Censor' there! Oh, let me see it. My respectedcousins don't think it good for little girls. What are you going todo?"

"I believe the doctors want Uncle Clem to get a long leave ofabsence, and that we shall go to the seaside, " replied Anna. 

"Oh! then you will come to us for the season! We reckon on it. "

"No, indeed, Emmie, I don't see how I can. Those two are not in theleast fit to go without some one. "

"But then mother is reckoning on our having a season together. Youlost the last. "

Gerald laughed a little and hummed—-

 "If I were na to marry a rich sodger lad My friends would be dismal, my minnie be mad. "

"Don't be so disgusting, Gerald! My friends have too much sense, "cried Anna. 

"But it is true enough as regards 'my minnie, '" said Emilia. 

"Well, eight daughters _are_ serious-—baronet's daughters!" observedGerald in his teasing voice. 

"Tocherless lasses without even the long pedigree, " laughed Anna. "Poor mother. "

"The pedigree is long enough to make her keep poor Vale Lestonsuitors at arm's length, " mumbled Gerald; but the sisters did nothear him, for Emilia was exclaiming—-

"I mean to be a worker. I shall make Marilda let me have hospitaltraining, and either go out to Aunt Angela or have a hospital here. Come and help me, Annie. "

"I have a hospital here, " laughed Anna. 

"But, Nan dear, do come! You know such lots of swells. You wouldget one into real society if one is to have it; Lady Rotherwood, LadyCaergwent, besides all your delightful artist friends; and that wouldpacify mother, and make it so much pleasanter for me. Oh, if youknew what the evenings are!"

"What an inducement!"

"It would not be so if Annie were there. We should go out, and missthe horrid aldermanic kind of dinners; and at home, when we hadplayed the two old dears to sleep, as I have to do every night, whilethey nod over their piquet or backgammon, we could have some funtogether! Now, Annie, you would like it. You do care for goodsociety, now don't you?"

"I did enjoy it very much when Aunt Cherry went with me, but—-"

"No buts, no buts. You would come to the laundry girls, and thecooking-class, and all the rest with me, and we should not have adreary moment. Have you done fiddling over those flowers?"

"Not yet; Vale Leston flowers, you know. Besides, Aunt Cherry can'tbear them not artistic. "

"Tidy is enough for Marilda. She does them herself, or thehousekeeper; I can't waste time worrying over them. "

"That's the reason they always look like a gardener's prize bouquetat a country horticultural show, " said Gerald. 

"What does it signify? They are only a testimony to Sir GorgiasMidas' riches. I do hate orchids. "

"I wish them on their native rocks, poor things, " said Gerald. "Butpoor Fernan, you do him an injustice. "

"Oh, yes, he does quantities of good works, and so does Marilda, tillI am quite sick of hearing of them! The piles of begging lettersthey get! And then they want them read and explained, and answeredsometimes. "

"A means of good works, " observed Gerald. 

"How would you like it? Docketing the crumbs from Dives' table, "exclaimed Emilia. 

"A clerk or secretary could do it, " said Anna. 

"Of course. Now if you have finished those flowers, do come out withme. I want to go into Ponter's Court, and Fernan won't let me goalone. "

"Have you any special object?" said Gerald lazily, "or is it torefresh yourself with the atmosphere?"

"That dear boy-—that Silky-—has been taken up, and they've sent himto a reformatory. "

"What a good thing!"

"Yes, only I don't believe he did it! It was that nasty little BillNosey. I am sure that he got hold of the lady's parcel, and stuffedit into Silky's cap. "

Emilia spoke with a vehemence that made them both laugh, and Geraldsaid—-

"But if he is in a reformatory, what then? Are we to condole withhis afflicted family, or bring Bill Nosey to confess?"

"I thought I would see about it, " said Emilia vaguely. 

"Well, I decline to walk in the steps of the police as an amateur!How about the Dicksons?"

"Drifted away no one knows where. That's the worst of it. Thosepoor things do shift about so. "

"Yes. I thought we had got hold of those boys with the gymnasium. But work wants regulating. "

"Oh, Gerald, I am glad you are coming. Now I am free!" Just fancy, they had a horrid, stupid, slow dinner-party on Easter Monday, of allthe burgomasters and great One-eyers, and would not let me go downand sing to the match-girls!"

"You had the pleasure of a study of the follies of wealth instead ofthe follies of poverty. "

"Oh, to hear Mrs. Brown discourse on her troubles with her first, second, and third coachman!"

"Was the irresistible Ferdinand Brown there?"

"Yes, indeed, with diamond beetle studs and a fresh twist to hismoustache. It has grown long enough to be waxed. "

"How happy that fellow would be if he were obliged to dig! I shouldlike to scatter his wardrobe over Ponter's Court. "

"There, Nan, have you finished?" as Anna swept the scattered leavesinto a basket. "Are you coming?"

"I don't think I shall. You would only talk treason-—well-—socialtreason all the way, and you don't want me, and Aunt Cherry wouldhave to lunch alone, unless you wait till after. "

"Oh no, I know a scrumptious place for lunch, " said Gerald. "You areright, Annie, one lady is quite enough on one's hands in suchregions. You have no jewellery, Emmie?"

"Do you see any verdure about me?" she retorted. 

So when Gerald's tardy movements had been overcome, off they startedto their beloved slum, Emilia looking as if she were setting forthfor Elysium, and they were seen no more, even when five o'clock teawas spread, and Anna making it for her Uncle Lance and his wife, whohad just returned, full of political news; and likewise Lance saidthat he had picked up some intelligence for his sister. He had metGeneral Mohun and Sir Jasper Merrifield, both connections of theUnderwoods. 

General Mohun lived with his sister at Rockstone, Sir Jasper, hisbrother-in-law, at Clipstone, not far off, and they both recommendedRockquay and its bay "with as much praise, " said Lance, "as theinhabitants ever give of a sea place. "

"Very good, except for the visitors, " said Geraldine. 

"Exactly so. Over-built, over-everythinged, but still tolerable. The General lives there with his sister, and promises to write to meabout houses, and Sir Jasper in a house a few miles off. "

"He is Bernard's father-in-law?"

"Yes, " said Gertrude; "and my brother Harry married a sister of LadyMerrifield, a most delightful person as ever I saw. We tell myfather that if she were not out in New Zealand we should all begin tobe jealous, he is so enthusiastic about Phyllis. "

"You have never told us how Dr. May is. "

"It is not easy to persuade him that he is not as young as he was, "said Gertrude. 

"I should say he was, " observed Lance. 

"In heart-—that's true, " said Gertrude; "but he does get tired, andgoes to sleep a good deal, but he likes to go and see his oldpatients, as much as they like to have him, and Ethel is alwayslooking after him. It is just her life now that Cocksmoor has grownso big and wants her less. Things do settle themselves. If any onehad told her twenty years ago that Richard would have a great woollenfactory living, and Cocksmoor and Stoneborough meet, and a separateparish be made, with a disgusting paper-mill, two churches, and aclergyman's wife-—(what's the female of whipper-snapper, Lance?)-—whotreats her as—-"

"As an extinct volcano, " murmured Lance. 

"She would have thought her heart would be broken, " pursued Gertrude. "Whereas now she owns that it is the best thing, and a great relief, for she could not attend to Cocksmoor and my father both. We wanther to take a holiday, but she never will. Once she did when Blancheand Hector came to stay, but he was not happy, hardly well, and Idon't think she will ever leave him again. "

"Mrs. Rivers is working still in London?"

"Oh yes; I don't know what the charities of all kinds anddescriptions would do without her. "

"No, " said Clement from his easy-chair. "She is a most valuableperson. She has such good judgment. "

"It has been her whole life ever since poor George Rivers' fatalaccident, " said Gertrude. "I hardly remember her before she wasmarried, except a sense that I was naughty with her, and then she wasterribly sad. But since she gave up Abbotstoke to young Dickie Mayshe has been much brighter, and she can do more than any one atCocksmoor. She manages Cocksmoor and London affairs in her own way, and has two houses and young Mrs. Dickie on her hands to boot. "

"How many societies is she chairwoman of?" said Lance. "I countedtwenty-four pigeon-holes in her cabinet one day, and I believe therewas a society for each of them; but I must say she is quiet aboutthem. "

"It is fine to see the little hen-of-the-walk of Cocksmoor lower hercrest to her!" said Gertrude, "when Ethel has not thought it worthwhile to assert herself, being conscious of being an old fogey. "

"And your Bishop?"

"Norman? I do believe he is coming home next year. I think hereally would if papa begged him, but that he—-my father, I mean-—saidhe would never do so; though I believe nothing would be suchhappiness to him as to have Norman and Meta at home again. You knowthey came home on George's death, but then those New Somersetas wentand chose him Bishop, and there he is for good. "

"For good indeed, " said Clement; "he is a great power there. "

"So are his books, " added Geraldine. "Will Harewood sets great storeby them. Ah! I hear our young folks-—or is that a carriage?"

Emilia and Gerald came in simultaneously with Marilda, expanded intoa portly matron, as good-humoured as ever, and better-looking thanlong ago. 

She was already insisting on Gerald's coming to a party of hers andbringing his violin, and only interrupted her persuasions to greetand congratulate Clement. 

Gerald, lying back on a sofa, and looking tired, only replied in abantering, lazy manner. 

"Ah! if I asked you to play to the chimney-sweeps, " she said, "youwould come fast enough, you idle boy. And you, Annie, do you knowyou are coming to me for the season when your uncle and aunt go outof town?"

"Indeed, Cousin Marilda, thank you, I don't know it, and I don'tbelieve it. "

"Ah, we'll see! You haven't thought of the dresses you two are tohave for the Drawing-Room from Worth's, and Lady Caergwent to presentyou. "

Anna shook her head laughingly, while Gerald muttered—-

"Salmon are caught with gay flies. "

They closed round the tea-table while Marilda sighed—-

"Alda's daughters are not like herself. "

"A different generation, " said Geraldine. 

"See the Beggars Opera, " said Lance—-

 "'I wonder any man alive will ever rear a daughter, For when she's drest with care and cost, and made all neat and gay, As men should serve a cucumber, she throws herself away. '"

"Ah! your time has not come yet, Lance. Your little girls are at acomfortable age. "

"There are different ways of throwing oneself away, " said Clement. "Perhaps each generation says it of the next. "

"Emmie is not throwing herself away, except her chances, " saidMarilda. "If she would only think of poor Ferdy Brown, who is asgood a fellow as ever lived!"

"Not much chance of that, " said Geraldine. 

Their eyes all met as each had glanced at the tea-table, where Emiliaand Gerald were looking over a report together, but Geraldine shookher head. She was sure that Gerald did not think of his cousinsotherwise than as sisters, but she was by no means equally sure ofEmilia, to whom he was certainly a hero. 

Anna had not heard the last of the season. Her mother wrote to her, and also to Geraldine, whom she piteously entreated not to let Annalose another chance, in the midst of her bloom, when she could getgood introductions, and Marilda would do all she could for her. 

But Anna was obdurate. She should never see any one in society likeUncle Clem. She had had a taste two years ago, and she wished for nomore. She should see the best pictures at the studios before leavingtown, and she neither could nor would leave her uncle and aunt tothemselves. So the matter remained in abeyance till the place ofsojourn had been selected and tried; and meantime Gerald spent whatremained of the Easter vacation in a little of exhibitions with Anna, a little of slumming with Emilia, a little of society impartiallywith swells and artists, and a good deal of amiable lounging and ofmodern reading of all kinds. His aunt watched, enjoyed, yet couldnot understand, his uncle said, that he was an undeveloped creature. 

CHAPTER V. A HAPPY SPRITE

Such trifles will their hearts engage, A shell, a flower, a feather;If none of these, a cup of joy It is to be together. —-ISAAC WILLIAMS. 

A retired soldier, living with his sister in a watering-place, is aptto form to himself regular habits, of which one of the most regularis the walking to the station in quest of his newspaper. Here, then, it was that the tall, grey-haired, white-moustached General Mohunbeheld, emerging on the platform, a slight figure in a grey suit, bagin hand, accompanied by a pretty pink-cheeked, fair-haired, knicker-bockered little boy, whose air of content and elation at beingfather's companion made his sapphire eyes goodly to behold. 

"Mr. Underwood! I am glad to see you. "

"I thought I would run down and look at the house you were so good asto mention for my sister, and let this chap have a smell of the sea. "

There was a contention between General Mohun's hospitality andLancelot's intention of leaving his bag at the railway hotel, but theformer gained the day, the more easily because there was an assurancethat the nephew who slept at Miss Mohun's for the sake of his day-school would take little Felix Underwood under his protection, andshow him his curiosities. The boy's eyes grew round, and heexclaimed—-

"Foolish guillemots' eggs?"

"He is in the egg stage, " said his father, smiling. 

"I won't answer for guillemots, " said the General, "but nothing seemsto come amiss to Fergus, though his chief turn is for stones. "

There was a connection between the families, Bernard Underwood, theyoungest brother of Lance, having married the elder sister of theaforesaid Fergus Merrifield. Miss Mohun, the sister who made a homefor the General, had looked out the house that Lance had come toinspect. As it was nearly half-past twelve o'clock, the party wentround by the school, where, in the rear of the other rushing boys, came Fergus, in all the dignity of the senior form. 

"Look at him, " said the General, "those are honours one only getsonce or twice in one's life, before beginning at the bottom again. "

Fergus graciously received the introduction; and the next sound thatwas heard was, "Have you any good fossils about you?" in a tone as ifhe doubted whether so small a boy knew what a fossil meant; butlittle Felix was equal to the occasion. 

"I once found a shepherd's crown, and father said it was a fossilsea-urchin, and that they are alive sometimes. "

"Echini. Oh yes-—recent, you mean. There are lots of them here. I don't go in for those mere recent things, " said Fergus, in a pre-Adamite tone, "but my sister does. I can take you down to afisherman who has always got some. "

"Father, may I? I've got my eighteenpence, " asked the boy, turningup his animated face, while Fergus, with an air of patronage, vouchedfor the honesty of Jacob Green, and undertook to bring his chargeback in time for luncheon. 

Lancelot Underwood had entirely got over that sense of being in afalse position which had once rendered society distasteful to him. Many more men of family were in the like position with himself thanhad been the case when his brother had begun life; moreover, he hadpersonally achieved some standing and distinction through the'Pursuivant'. 

General Mohun was delighted with his companion, whom he presented tohis sister as the speedy consequence of her recommendation. She wasrather surprised at the choice of an emissary, but her heart was wonwhen she found Mr. Underwood as deep in the voluntary school struggleas she could be. Her brother held up his hands, and warned her thatit was quite enough to be in the fray without going over it again, and that the breath of parish troubles would frighten away theinvalid. 

"I'll promise not to molest him, " she said. 

"Besides, " said Lance, "one can look at other people's parishes morephilosophically than at one's own. "

He had begun to grow a little anxious about his boy, but presentlyfrom the garden, up from the cliff-path, the two bounded in-—littleFelix with the brightest of eyes and rosiest of cheeks, and a greatruddy, white-beaded sea-urchin held in triumph in his hands. 

"Oh, please, " he cried, "my hands are too dirty to shake; we've beendigging in the sand. It's too splendid! And they ought to havespines. When they are alive they walk on them. There's a bay! Oh, do come down and look for them. "

"And pray what would become of Aunt Cherry's house, sir? Miss Mohun, may I take him to make his paws presentable?"

"A jolly little kid, " pronounced Fergus, lingering before performingthe same operation, "but he has not got his mind opened tostratification, and only cares for recent rubbish. I wish it was ahalf-holiday, I would show him something!"

The General, who had a great turn for children, and for the chase inany form, was sufficiently pleased with little Felix's good mannersand bright intelligence about bird, beast, and fish, as to volunteerto conduct him to the region most favourable to spouting razor-fishand ambulatory sea-urchins. The boy turned crimson and gasped—-

"Oh, thank you!"

"Thank you indeed, " said his father, when he had been carried off toinspect Fergus's museum in the lumber-room. "'To see a real Generalout of the wars' was one great delight in coming here, though Ibelieve he would have been no more surprised to hear that you hadbeen at Agincourt than in Afghanistan. 'It's in history, ' he saidwith an awe-stricken voice. "

When Fergus, after some shouting, was torn from his beloved museum, Felix came down in suppressed ecstasy, declaring it the loveliest andmost delicious of places, all bones and stones, where his father mustcome and see what Fergus thought was a megatherium's tooth. The longword was pronounced with a triumphant delicacy of utterance, amiddancing bounds of the dainty, tightly-hosed little legs. 

The General and his companion went their way, while the other two hada more weary search, resulting in the choice of not the most invitingof the houses, but the one soonest available within convenientdistance of church and sea. When it came to practical details, MissMohun was struck by the contrast between her companion's businesspromptness and the rapt, musing look she had seen when she came onhim listening to the measured cadence of the waves upon the cliffs, and the reverberations in the hollows beneath. And when he went tohire a piano she, albeit unmusical, was struck by what her ears toldher, yet far more by the look of reverent admiration and wonder thathis touch and his technical remarks brought out on the dealer's face. 

"Has that man, a bookseller and journalist, missed his vocation?" shesaid to herself. "Yet he looks too strong and happy for that. Hashe conquered something, and been the better for it?"

He made so many inquiries about Fergus and his school, that she beganto think it must be with a view to his own pretty boy, who came backall sea-water and ecstasy, with a store of limpets, sea-weeds, scales, purses, and cuttle-fish's backbones for the delectation ofhis sisters. Above all, he was eloquent on the shell of a lacemakercrab, all over prickles, which he had seen hanging in the window of alittle tobacconist. He had been so much fascinated by it thatGeneral Mohun regretted not having taken him to buy it, though itappeared to be displayed more for ornament than for sale. 

"It is a disgusting den, " added the General, "with 'Ici on parleFrancais' in the window, and people hanging about among whom I didnot fancy taking the boy. "

"I know the place, " said Miss Mohun. "Strange to say, it producesrather a nice girl, under the compulsion of the school officer. Sheis plainly half a foreigner, and when Mr. Flight got up thosetheatricals last winter she sung most sweetly, and showed such talentthat I thought it quite dangerous. "

"I remember, " said her brother. "She was a fairy among the clods. "

The next morning, to the amazement of Miss Mohun, who thought herselfone of the earliest of risers, she not only met the father and son atearly matins, but found that they had been out for two hours enjoyingsea-side felicity, watching the boats come in, and delighting in thebeauty of the fresh mackerel. 

"If they had not all been dead!" sighed the tender-hearted littlefellow. "But I've got my lacemaker for Audrey. "

"'The carapace of a pagurus, ' as Fergus translated it. " Adding, "Idon't know the species. "

"I can find out when father has time to let us look at the bignatural history book in the shop, " said Felix. "We must not look atit unless he turns it over, so Pearl and I are saving up to buy it. "

"For instance!" said his father, laughing. 

"Oh, I could not help getting something for them all, " pleaded theboy, "and pagurus was not dear. At least he is, in the other way. "

"Take care, Fely-—he won't stand caresses. I should think he was thefirst crab ever so embraced. "

"I wonder you got entrance so early in the day, " said Miss Mohun. 

"The girl was sweeping out the shop, and singing the morning hymn, sosweetly and truly, that it would have attracted me anyway, " saidLancelot. "No doubt the seafaring men want 'baccy at all hours. Shewas much amazed at our request, and called her mother, who came outin remarkable dishabille, and is plainly foreign. I can't thinkwhere I have seen such a pair of eyes-—most likely in the head ofsome chorus-singer, indeed the voice had something of the quality. Anyway, she stared at me to the full extent of them. "

So Lancelot departed, having put in hand negotiations for a tolerablehouse not far from St. Andrew's Church, and studied the accommodationavailable for horses, and the powers of the pianos on hire. 

CHAPTER VI. ST. ANDREW'S ROCK

Helpmates and hearthmates, gladdeners of gone years, Tender companions of our serious days, Who colour with your kisses, smiles, and tears, Life's worn web woven over wonted ways. -—LYTTON. 

"How does he seem now?" said Geraldine, as Lancelot came into thedrawing-room of St. Andrew's Rock at Rockquay, in the full glare of acold east windy May evening. 

"Pretty well fagged out, but that does not greatly matter. I say, Cherry, how will you stand this? Till I saw you in this den, I hadno notion how shabby, and dull, and ugly it is. "

"My dear Lance, if you did but know how refreshing it is to seeanything shabby, and dull, and ugly, " Mrs. Grinstead answered withimitative inflections, which set Anna Vanderkist off into a fit oflaughter, infecting both her uncle and aunt. The former gravelysaid—-

"If you had only mentioned it in time, I could have gratified youmore effectually. "

"I suppose it is Aunt Cherry's charity, " said Anna, recovering. "Thereflection that but for her the poor natives would never have beenable to go to their German baths. "

"Oh, no such philanthropy, my dear. It is homeliness, or ratherhomeyness, that is dear to my bourgeoise mind. I was afraid ofspick-and-span, sap-green aestheticism, but those curtains have donetheir own fading in pleasing shades, that good old sofa can be lainupon, and there's a real comfortable crack on that frame; while as tothe chiffonier, is not it the marrow of the one Mrs. Froggatt leftus, where Wilmet kept all the things in want of mending?"

"Ah! didn't you shudder when she turned the key?" said Lance. 

"Not knowing what was good for me. "

"But you will send for some of our things and make it nice, "entreated Anna, "or Gerald will never stay here. "

"Never fear; we'll have it presentable by the vacation. As for UncleClement, he would never see whether he was in a hermit's cell, if heonly had one arm-chair and one print from Raffaelle. "

There was a certain arch ring in her voice that had long been absent, and Anna looked joyous as she waited on them both. 

"I am glad you brought her, " said Lance, as she set off with UncleClement's tea. 

"Yes, she would not hear of the charms of the season. "

"So much the better for her. She is a good girl, and will be all thehappier down here, as well as better. There's a whole hive ofMerrifields to make merry with her; and, by the bye, Cherry, whatshould you think of housing a little chap for the school here whereFergus Merrifield is?"

"Your dear little Felix? Delightful!"

"_Ouf_! No, he is booked for our grammar school. "

"The grammar school was not good for any of you, except the one whomnothing hurt. "

"It is very different now. I have full confidence in the head, andthe tone is improved throughout. Till my boys are ready for a publicschool I had rather they were among our own people. No, Cherry, Ican't do it, I can't give up the delight of him yet; no, I can't, norlose his little voice out of the choir, and have his music spoilt. "

"I don't wonder. "

"I don't think I spoil him. I really have flogged him once, " saidLance, half wistfully, half playfully. 

"How proud you are of it. "

"It was for maltreating little Joan Vanderkist, though if it had onlybeen her brother, I should have said, 'Go it, boys. ' It was not tillafterwards that it turned out that Joan was too loyal not to bear thepenalty of having tied our little Audrey into a chair to be peltedwith horse-chestnuts. "

"At Adrian's bidding?"

"Of course. I fancy the Harewood boys set him on. And what Ithought of was sending Adrian here to be schooled at Mrs. Edgar's, boarded by you, mothered by Anna, and altogether saved from beingmade utterly detestable, as he will inevitably be if he remains totyrannize over Vale Leston. "

"Would his mother consent?"

"You know he is entirely in Clement's power. "

"It would only be another worry for Clement. "

"He need not have much of him, and I believe he would prefer to havehim under his own eye; and Anna will think it bliss to have him, though what it may prove is another question. She will keep you frombeing too much bothered. "

"My dear Lance, will you never understand, that as furze and thistlesare to a donkey, so are shabbiness and bother to me-—a nativeelement?"

In the morning Clement, raised on his pillows in bed, showed himselfhighly grateful for the proposal about his youngest ward. 

"It is very good of you, Cherry, " he said. "That poor boy has beenvery much on my mind. This is the way to profit by my enforcedleisure. "

"That's the way to make me dread him. You were to lie fallow. "

"Not exactly. I have thirteen or fourteen years' reading andthinking to make up. I have done no more than get up a thingcursorily since I left Vale Leston. "

"You are welcome to read and think, provided it is nothing morerecent than St. Chrysostom. "

"So here is the letter to Alda, " giving it to her open. 

"Short and to the purpose, " she said. 

"Alda submits to the inevitable, " he said. "Don't appear as if shehad a choice. "

"Only mention the alleviations. No, you are not to get up yet. There's no place for you to sit in, and the east wind is not greatlymitigated by the sea air. Shall I send Anna to read to you?"

"In half-an-hour, if she is ready then; meantime, those two books, ifyou please. "

She handed him his Greek Testament and Bishop Andrews, and repairedto the drawing-room, where she found Anna exulting in the decorationsbrought from home, and the flowers brought in from an itinerantbarrow. 

"I have been setting down what they must send us from home-—your ownchair and table, and the Liberty rugs, and the casts of St. Ceciliaand little St. Cyrillus for those bare corners, and I am going outfor a terra-cotta vase. "

"Oh, my dear, the room is charming; but don't let us get toodependent on pretty things. They demoralize as much or more thanugly ones. "

"Do you mean that they are a luxury? Is it not right to try to haveeverything beautiful?"

"I don't know, my dear. "

"Don't know!" exclaimed Anna. 

"Yes, my dear, I really get confused sometimes as to what is merelust of the eye, and what is regard to whatever things are lovely. I believe the principle is really in each case to try whether thehigh object or the gratification of the senses should stand first. "

"Well, " said Anna, laughing, "I suppose it is a high object not toalienate Gerald, as would certainly be done by the culture of theugly—-"

"Or rather of that which pretends to be the reverse, and is onlyfashion, " said her aunt, who meantime was moving about, addingnameless grace by her touch to all Anna's arrangements. 

"May I send for the things then?" said Anna demurely. 

"Oh yes, certainly; and you had better get the study arm-chair foryour uncle. There is nothing so comfortable here. But I have newsfor you. What do you say to having little Adrian here, to go toschool with the Merrifield boy?"

"What fun! what fun! How delicious!" cried the sister, springingabout like a child. 

"I suspected that the person to whom he would give most trouble wouldfeel it most pleasure. "

"You don't know what a funny, delightful child he is! You didn't seehim driving all the little girls in a team four-in-hand. "

It would be much to say that Mrs. Grinstead was enchanted by thisproof of his charms; but they were interrupted by Marshall, thepolite, patronizing butler, bringing in a card. Miss Mohun would beglad to know how Mr. Underwood was, and whether there was anythingthat she could do for Mrs. Grinstead. 

Of course she was asked to come in, and thus they met, the quick, slim, active little spinster, whose whole life had been work, and thefar younger widow, whose vocation had been chiefly home-making. Their first silent impressions were—-

"I hope she is not going to be pathetic, " and—-

"She is enough to take one's breath away. But I think she has tact. "

After a few exchanges of inquiry and answer, Miss Mohun said—-

"My niece Gillian is burning to see you, after all your kindness toher. "

"I shall be very glad. This is not quite a land of strangers. "

"I told her I was sure you would not want her to-day. "

"Thank you. My brother is hardly up to afternoon visitors yet, andwe have not been able to arrange his refuge. "

"You have transformed this room. "

"Or Anna has. "

On which Miss Mohun begged for Miss Vanderkist to meet her nieces byand by at tea. Gillian would call for her at four o'clock, and showher the way that it was hoped might soon be quite natural to her. 

"Gillian's 'Aunt Jane, '" said Anna, when the visitor had tripped out. "I never quite understood her way of talking of her. I think sheworried her. "

"Your pronouns are confused, Annie. Which worried which? Or was itmutual?"

"On the whole, " laughed Anna back, "I prefer an aunt to be waited onto one who pokes me up. "

"Aunt Log to Aunt Stork? To be poked will be wholesome. "

In due time there was a ring at the front door; Gillian Merrifieldwas indulged with a kiss and smile from the heroine of her worship, and Anna found herself in the midst of a garland of bright girls. She was a contrast to them, with her fair Underwood complexion, hershort plump Vanderkist figure, and the mourning she still wore forthe fatherly Uncle Grinstead; while the Merrifield party were all indifferent shades of the brunette, and wore bright spring raiment. 

They had only just come down the steps when they were greeted by ayoung clergyman, who said he was on his way to inquire for Mr. Underwood, and as he looked as if he expected a reply from MissVanderkist, she said her uncle was better, and would be glad to seeMr. Brownlow when he had rested after his journey. 

"I hope he will not bother him, " she added; "I know who he is now. He was at Whittingtonia for a little while, but broke down. There'sno remembering all the curates there. My aunt likes his mother. Does he belong to this St. Andrew's Church?"

"No, to the old one. You begin to see the tower. "

"Is that where you go?"

"To the old one in the morning, but we have a dear little old chapelat Clipstone, where Mr. Brownlow comes for the afternoon. It is alla good deal mixed up together. "

Then another voice—-

"Do you think Mr. Underwood would preach to us? Mr. Brownlow says henever heard any one like him. "

Anna stood still. 

"Nobody is to dare to mention preaching to Uncle Clement for the nextsix months, or they will deserve never to hear another sermon intheir lives. "

"What an awful penalty!"

"For shame, Dolores! Now, " as the short remainder of a steep streetwas surmounted, "here, as you may see, is the great hotel, and nextbeyond is Aunt Jane's, Beechcroft. On beyond, where you see thatqueer tower, is Cliff House, Mr. White's, who married our AuntAdeline, only they are in Italy; and then comes Carrara, CaptainHenderson's—-"

"You are expected to rave about Mrs. Henderson's beauty, " said thecousin, Dolores Mohun, as she opened Miss Mohun's gate, between twocopper beeches, while Anna listened to the merry tongues, almostbewildered by the chatter, so unlike the seclusion and silentwatching of the last month; but when Mysie Merrifield asked, "Is itnot quite overwhelming?" she said—-

"Oh no! it is like being among them all at Vale Leston. My sistersalways tell me my tongue wants greasing when I come down. "

Her tongue was to have exercise enough among the bevy of damsels whosurrounded her in Miss Mohun's drawing-room-—four Merrifields, ranging from twenty-two to twelve years old, and one cousin, DoloresMohun, with a father in New Zealand. 

"Won't you be in the Mouse-trap?" presently asked number three, byname Valetta. 

"If I did not know that she would drag it in!" cried Dolores. 

"What may it be?" asked Anna. 

"An essay society and not an essay society, " was the lucid answer. "Gillian said you would be sure to belong to it. "

"I am afraid I can't if it takes much time, " said Anna in a pleadingtone. "My uncle is very far from well, and I have a good deal to doin the way of reading to him, and my little brother is coming to goto school with yours. "

"Mr. Underwood brought his little boy, " said Gillian. "Fergus saidhe was one of the jolliest little chaps he had ever seen. "

"Uncle Reginald quite lost his heart to him, " said Mysie, "and AuntJane says he is a charming little fellow. "

"Oh, Felix Underwood!" said Anna. "Adrian is much more manly. Youshould see him ride and climb trees. "

The comparative value of brothers and cousins was very apparent. However, it was fixed that Anna should attend the Mouse-trap, andhear and contribute as she could find time. 

"I did the Erl King, " said Valetta. 

 "'Who rideth so late in the forest so wild? It is the fond father and his loving child. '"

"Oh, spare us, Val, " cried her sister Gillian. "Every one has donethat. "

"Gerald parodied mine, " said Anna. 

 "'Who trampeth so late in a shocking bad hat? 'Tis the tipsy old father a-hugging his brat. "

"Oh, go on. "

"I can't recollect any more, but the Erl King's daughter is a beggar-woman, and it ends with—-

 "I'll give thee a tanner and make him a bait, So in the gin palace was settled his fate. "

Some of the party were scandalized, others laughed as much or morethan the effusion deserved. 

"We accept drawings, " added another voice, "and if any one doesanything extraordinarily good in that way, or in writing, it makes alittle book. "

"We have higher designs than that, " said Gillian. "We want to printthe cream. "

"For the benefit of the school board—-no, the board school. "

"Oh! oh! Valetta!" cried the general voice. 

"The thing is, " explained Gillian, "that we must build a new schoolfor the out-liers of St. Kenelm's, or 'my lords' will be down on us, and we shall be swamped by board schools. "

"Aunt Jane is frantic about it, " said Dolores Mohun. 

"There's no escape from school board worries!" exclaimed Anna. "Theyhelped to demolish Uncle Clement. "

"There is to be a sale of work, and a concert, and all sorts of jollylarks, " added Valetta. 

"Larks! Oh, Val!"

"Larks aren't slang. They are in the dictionary, " declared Valetta. 

"By the bye, she has not heard the rules of the Mice, " put in Mysie. 

"I'll say them, " volunteered Valetta the irrepressible. "Members ofthe Mouse-trap never utter slang expressions, never wear live birds-—I mean dead ones-—in their hats. "

"Is an ostrich feather a live bird or a dead?" demanded Anna. 

"And, " said Dolores, "what of the feather screens that the old MissSmiths have been making all the winter—circles of pheasants' feathersand peacocks' eyes outside a border of drakes' curls?"

"Oh, like ostriches they don't count, since peacocks don't die, anddrakes and pheasants _must_, " said Gillian. 

"We have been getting ready for this sale ever so long, " said Mysie. "Aunt Jane has a working party every Friday for it. "

"The fit day, " said Dolores, "for she is a perfect victim to otherpeople's bad work, and spends the evening in stitching up and makingpresentable the wretched garments they turn out. "

"The next rule-—" began Valetta, but Gillian mercilessly cut hershort. 

"You know clever people, Anna. Do you know how to manage about ourMouse-trap book? Our bookseller here is a school-board man, all onthe wrong side, and when I tried to feel our way, he made out thatthe printing and getting it up would cost a great deal more than wecould risk. "

"It is a pity that Uncle Lance is gone home, " said Anna. "He couldtell you all about it. "

"Could you not write to him?"

"Oh, yes, but I know he will want to see a specimen before he canmake any estimate. "

It was agreed that the specimen should be forthcoming on the nextoccasion, and Miss Mohun coming home, and tea coming in, theconference was ended. Anna began to unravel the relationships. 

Dolores Mohun was a niece of Lady Merrifield. She had lost her ownmother early, and after living with the Merrifields for a year, hadbeen taken by her father to New Zealand, where he had an appointment. He was a man of science, and she had been with him at Rotaruna duringthe terrible volcanic eruption, when there had been danger and terrorenough to bring out her real character, and at the same time to causean amount of intimacy with a young lady visitor little older thanherself, which had suddenly developed into a second marriage of herfather. In this state of things she had gladly availed herself ofthe home offered her at Clipstone, and had gone home under the escortof her Aunt Phyllis (Mrs. Harry May), who was going with her husbandto spend a year in England. Dolores had greatly improved in all waysduring her two years' absence, and had become an affectionate, companionable, and thoughtful member of the Merrifield household, though still taking a line of her own. 

The Kalliope whom Gillian had befriended, to her own detriment, wasnow the very beautiful Mrs. Henderson, wife to the managing partnerin the marble works. She continued to take a great interest in theyoung women employed in designing and mosaics, and had a class ofthem for reading and working. Dolores had been asked to tell firstAunt Jane's G. F. S. (Girl's Friendly Society) girls, and afterwardsMrs. Henderson's, about her New Zealand experiences and theearthquake, and this developed into regular weekly lectures onvolcanoes and on colonies. She did these so well, that she wasbegged to repeat them for the girls at the High School, and she hadbegun to get them up very carefully, studying the best scientificbooks she could get, and thinking she saw her vocation. 

Mrs. Henderson was quite a power in the place. Her brother Alexiswas an undergraduate, but had been promised a tutorship for thevacation. He seldom appeared at Carrara, shrinking from whatrecalled the pain and shame that he had suffered; while Petros workedunder Captain Henderson, and Theodore was still in the choir at St. Matthew's. Maura had become the darling of Mr. White, and was muchbeloved by Mrs. White, though there had been a little alarm theprevious year, when Lord Rotherwood and his son came down to open apublic park or garden on the top of the cliffs, where LordRotherwood's accident had occurred. Lord Ivinghoe, a youngGuardsman, had shown himself enough disposed to flirt with the prettylittle Greek to make the prudent very glad that her home was on theItalian mountains. 

Gillian was always Mrs. Henderson's friend, but Gillian's mind wasfull of other things. For her father had reluctantly promised, thatif one of her little brothers got a scholarship at one of the publicschools, Gillian might fulfil her ardent desire of going to a ladies'college. Wilfred was a hopeless subject. It might be doubted if hecould have succeeded. He had apparently less brain power than someof the family, and he certainly would not exert what he had. Hismother had dragged him through holiday tasks; but nobody else couldattempt to make him work when at home, and Gillian's offers had beenreceived with mockery or violence. So all her hopes centred onFergus, who, thanks to Aunt Jane's evening influence over hislessons, stood foremost in Mrs. Edgar's school, and was to go up totry for election at Winchester College at the end of the term. WereGillian's hopes to be ruined by his devotion to the undergroundworld?

CHAPTER VII. THE HOPE OF VANDERKIST

A breath of air, A bullock's low, A bunch of flowers, Hath power to call from everywhereThe spirit of forgotten hours—-Hours when the heart was fresh and young, When every string in freedom sung, Ere life had shed one leaf of green. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 

There had been some curiosity as to who would be thought worthy tobring the precious little baronet to Rockquay, and there was somediversion, as well as joy, when it proved that no one was to beentrusted with him but his eldest aunt, Mrs. Harewood, who was tobring him in Whitsun week, so that he might begin with a half-term. 

The arrival was a pretty sight, as the aunt rejoiced at seeing bothher hosts at the front door to greet her, and as Anna held out herglad arms to the little brother who was the pride of the family. 

"Ha, Adrian, boy!" said the Vicar, only greeting with the hand, atsight of the impatient wriggle out of the embrace. 

It was an open, sunburnt, ruddy face, and wide, fearless grey eyesthat looked up to him, the bullet head in stiff, curly flaxen hairheld aloft with an air of "I am monarch of all I survey, " and therewas a tone of equality in the "Holloa, Uncle Clement, " to the tallclergyman who towered so far above the sturdy little figure. 

Presently on the family inquiries there broke—-

"I say, Annie, where's the school?"

"At the foot of this hill. "

"I want to see it" (imperiously). 

"You must have some tea first. "

"Then you are glad to come, Adrian?" said Mrs. Grinstead. 

"Yes, Aunt Cherry. It is high time I was away from such a lot ofwomen-folk, " he replied, with his hands in his pockets, and his legsset like a little colossus. 

Anna had no peace till, after the boy had swallowed a tolerableamount of bread-and-butter and cake, she took him out, and then Mrs. Harewood had to explain his mother's urgent entreaties that theregime at Vale Leston should be followed up, and the boy see onlysuch habits as would be those of total abstainers. 

Poor woman! as her brother and sisters knew, there was reason tobelieve that the vice which had been fatal to her happiness and herhusband's life, had descended to him from Dutch forefathers, andthere was the less cause for wonder at the passionate desire to guardher son from it. Almost all her family had been water-drinkers frominfancy, and though Major Harewood called teetotalism a superstitiouscontempt of Heaven's good gifts, and disapproved of supplementing thebaptismal vow, his brother the Rector had found it expedient, for thesake of the parish, to embrace formally the temperance movement, andthus there had been little difficulty in giving way to Alda's desirethat, at the luncheon-table, Adrian should never see wine or beer, and she insisted that the same rule should prevail at Rockquay. 

Clement had taken the pledge when a lad of sixteen, and there werethose who thought that, save for his persistence under warnings offailing strength, much of his present illness might have beenaverted, with all the consequent treatment. He believed in totalabstinence as safer for his ward, but he thought that the time hadcome for training, in seeing without partaking. Wilmet agreed, andsaid she had tried to persuade her sister; but she had only caused anhysterical agitation, so that weakness as usual gained the victory, and she had all but promised to bring the boy home again unless shecould exact an engagement. 

"To follow the Vale Leston practice at his early dinner, " saidGeraldine. 

"That may be, " said Clement; "but I do not engage not to have thematter out with him if I see that it is expedient. "

"I am only doubtful how Gerald will take it, " said his sister. 

"Gerald has always been used to it at Vale Leston, " said Wilmet. 

"True, but there he is your guest. Here he will regard himself as athome. However, he is a good boy, and will only grumble a little forappearance sake. "

"I should hope so, " said Wilmet severely. 

"How is the Penbeacon affair going on?" asked Clement. 

"Oh, Clem, I did not think you had heard of it. "

"I had a letter in the middle of the mission, but I could not answerit then, and it seems to have been lost. "

Geraldine pronounced it the straw that broke the camel's back, whenshe heard of the company that only waited to dig china clay out ofPenbeacon and wash it in the Ewe till they could purchase a slice ofthe hill pertaining to the Vale Leston estate. Major Harewood hadreplied that his fellow-trustee was too ill to attend to business, and that the matter had better be let alone till the heir attainedhis majority. 

"Shelved for the present, " said Mrs. Grinstead. "Fancy Ewe andLeston contaminated!"

"John talks to the young engineer, Mr. Bramshaw, and thinks that maybe prevented; but that is not the worst, " said Wilmet; "it wouldchange the whole face of the parish, and bring an influx of newpeople. "

"Break up Penbeacon and cover it with horrible little new houses. Men like Walsh never see a beautiful place but they begin to thinkhow to destroy it. "

"Well, Cherry, you have the most influence with Gerald, but he talksto the girls of our having no right to keep the treasures of thehills for our exclusive pleasure. "

"It is not exclusive. Half the country disports itself there. It isthe great place for excursions. "

"Then he declares that it is a grave matter to hinder an industrythat would put bread into so many mouths, and that fresh outletswould be good for the place; something too about being anobstruction, and the rights of labour. "

"Oh, I know what that means. It is only teasing the cousinhood whenthey fall on him open-mouthed, " said Geraldine, with a laugh, thoughwith a qualm of misgiving at her heart, while Clement sat listeningand thinking. 

Mrs. Harewood farther explained, that she hoped either that Geraldwould marry, or that her sister would make a home for him at thePriory. It then appeared that Major Harewood thought it would bewise to leave the young man to manage the property for himselfwithout interference; and that the uncle to whom the Major had becomeheir was anxious to have the family at hand, even offering to arrangea house for Lady Vanderkist. 

"A year of changes, " sighed Geraldine; "but this waiting time seemsintended to let one gather one's breath. "

But Wilmet looked careworn, partly, no doubt, with the harass ofcontinual attention to her sister Alda, who, though subdued andimproved in many important ways, was unavoidably fretful from ill-health, and disposed to be very miserable over her straitened means, and the future lot of her eight daughters, especially as the two ofthe most favourable age seemed to resign their immediate chances ofmarrying. Moreover, though all began life as pretty little girls, they had a propensity to turn into Dutchwomen as they grew up, andFranceska, the fifth in age, was the only one who renewed the beautyof the twin sisters. 

Alda was not, however, Wilmet's chief care, though of that she didnot speak. She was not happy at heart about her two boys. Kesterwas a soldier in India, not actually unsteady, but not what her ownbrothers had been, and Edward was a midshipman, too much of thecareless, wild sailor. Easy-going John Harewood's lax discipline hadnot been successful with them in early youth, and still less hadlater severity and indignation been effectual. 

"I am glad you kept Anna, " said Mrs. Harewood, "though Alda is verymuch disappointed that she is not having a season in London. "

"She will not take it, " said Geraldine. "She insists that sheprefers Uncle Clem to all the fine folk she might meet; and afterall, poor Marilda's acquaintance are not exactly the upper tenthousand. "

"Poor Marilda! You know that she is greatly vexed that Emilia isbent on being a hospital nurse, or something like it, and only halfyields to go out with her this summer in very unwilling obedience. "

"Yes, I know. She wants to come here, and I mean to have her beforethe long vacation for a little while. We heard various outpourings, and I cannot quite think Miss Emilia a grateful person, though I canbelieve that she does not find it lively at home. "

"She seems to be allowed plenty of slum work, as it is the fashion tocall it, and no one can be more good and useful than Fernan andMarilda, so that I call it sheer discontent and ingratitude not toput up with them!"

"Only modernishness, my dear Wilmet. It is the spirit of the times, and the young things can't help it. "

"You don't seem to suffer in that way-—at least with Anna. "

"No; Anna is a dear good girl, and Uncle Clem is her hero, but I amvery glad she has nice young companions in the Merrifields, and anexcitement in prospect in this bazaar. "

"I thought a bazaar quite out of your line. "

"There seems to be no other chance of saving this place from boardschools. Two thousand pounds have to be raised, and though LordRotherwood and Mr. White, the chief owners of property, have done, and will do, much, there still remains greater need than a fleetingpopulation like this can be expected to supply, and Clement thinksthat a bazaar is quite justifiable in such a case. "

"If there is nothing undesirable, " said Mrs. Harewood, in heroriginal "what it may lead to" voice. 

"Trust Lady Merrifield and Jane Mohun for that! I am going to takeyou to call upon Lilias Merrifield. "

"Yea; I shall wish to see the mother of Bernard's wife. "

Clement, who went with them, explained to his somewhat wonderingelder sister that he thought safeguards to Christian education soneedful, that he was quite willing that, even in this brief stay, allthe aid in their power should be given to the cause at Rockquay. Nay, as he afterwards added to Wilmet, he was very glad to see howmuch it interested Geraldine, and that the work for the Church andthe congenial friends were rousing her from her listless state ofdejection. 

Lady Merrifield and Mrs. Harewood were mutually charmed, perhaps allthe more because the former was not impassioned about the bazaar. She said she had been importuned on such subjects wherever she hadgone, and had learnt to be passive; but her sister Jane was alleagerness, and her younger young people, as she called the presenthalf of her family, were in the greatest excitement over their firstexperience of the kind. 

"Well is it for all undertakings that there should always be somebodyto whom all is new, and who can be zealous and full of delight. "

"By no means surtout point de zele, " returned Geraldine. 

"As well say no fermentation, " said Lady Merrifield. 

"A dangerous thing, " said Clement. 

"But sourness comes without it, or at least deadness, " returned hissister. 

Wherewith they returned to talk of their common relations. 

It was like a joke to the brother and sisters, that their Bernardshould be a responsible husband and father, whereas Lady Merrifield'snotion of him was as a grave, grand-looking man with a splendidbeard. 

Fergus Merrifield was asked to become the protector of Adrian, whereat he looked sheepish; but after the round of pets had been madehe informed his two youngest sisters, Valetta and Primrose, that itwas the cheekiest little fellow he had ever seen, who would neverknow if he was bullied within an inch of his life; not that he(Fergus) should let the fellows do it. 

So though until Monday morning Anna was the slave of her brother, doing her best to supply the place of the six devoted sisters athome, the young gentleman ungratefully announced at breakfast—-

"I don't want gy-arls after me, " with a peculiarly contemptuous twirlat the beginning of the word; "Merrifield is to call for me. "

Anna, who had brought down her hat, looked mortified. 

"Never mind, Annie, " said her uncle, "he will know better one ofthese days. "

"No, I shan't, " said Adrian, turning round defiantly. "If she comesbothering after me at dinner-time I shall throw my books at her—-that's all! There's Merrifield, " and he banged out of the room. 

"Never mind, " again said his uncle, "he has had a large dose of thefeminine element, and this is his swing out of it. "

Hopes, which Anna thought cruel, were entertained by her elders thatthe varlet would return somewhat crestfallen, but there were no suchsymptoms; the boy re-appeared in high spirits, having been placedwell for his years, but not too well for popularity, and in theplayground he had found himself in his natural element. The boyswere mostly of his own size, or a little bigger, and bullying was notthe fashion. He had heard enough school stories to be wary ofboasting of his title, and as long as he did not flaunt it beforetheir eyes, it was regarded as rather a credit to the school. 

Merrifield was elated at the success of his protege, and patronizedhim more than he knew, accepting his devotion in a droll, contemptuous manner, so that the pair were never willingly apart. As Fergus slept at his aunt's during the week, the long summerevenings afforded splendid opportunities for what Fergus calledscientific researches in the quarries and cliffs. It was as well forLady Vanderkist's peace of mind that she did not realize them, thoughFergus was certified by his family to be cautious and experiencedenough to be a safe guide. Perhaps people were less nervous aboutsixth sons than only ones. 

There was, indeed, a certain undeveloped idea held out that some ofthe duplicates of Fergus's precious collection might be arranged as asample of the specimens of minerals and fossils of Rockquay at thelong-talked-of sale of work. 

CHAPTER VIII. THE MOUSE-TRAP

If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him with a talent. Love's Labour's Lost. 

The young ladies were truly in an intense state of excitement aboutthe sale of work, especially about the authorship; and Uncle Lancelothaving promised to send an estimate, a meeting of the Mouse-trap wasconvened to consider of the materials, and certainly the mass ofmanuscript contributed at different times to the Mouse-trap magazinewas appalling to all but Anna, who knew what was the shrinkage in thepress. 

She, however, held herself bound not to inflict on her busy uncle thereading of anything entirely impracticable, so she sat with a sternand critical eye as the party mustered in Miss Mohun's drawing-room, and Gillian took the chair. 

"The great design, " said she impressively, "is that the Mouse-trapshould collect and print and publish a selection for the benefit ofthe school. "

The Mice vehemently applauded, only Miss Norton, the oldest of theparty, asked humbly—-

"Would any one think it worth buying?"

"Oh, yes, " cried Valetta. "Lots of translations!"

"The Erl King, for instance, " put in Dolores Mohun. 

"If Anna would append the parody, " suggested Gillian. 

"Oh, parodies are-—are horrid, " said Mysie. 

"Many people feel them so, " said Gillian, "but to others I think theyare almost a proof of love, that they can make sport with what theyadmire so much. "

"Then, " said Mysie, "there's Dolores' Eruption!"

"What a nice subject, " laughed Gillian. "However, it will dobeautifully, being the description of the pink terraces of that placewith the tremendous name in New Zealand. "

"Were you there?" cried Anna. 

"Yes. I always wonder how she can look the same after suchadventures, " said Mysie. 

"You know it is much the same as my father's paper in the ScientificWorld, " said Dolores. 

"Nobody over reads that, so it won't signify, " was theuncomplimentary verdict. 

"And, " added Mysie, "Mr. Brownlow would do a history of Rockquay, andthat would be worth having. "

"Oh yes, the dear ghost and all!" cried Valetta. 

The acclamation was general, for the Reverend Armine Brownlow was thecynosure curate of the lady Church-helpers, and Mysie produced as aprecious loan, to show what could be done, the volume containing thechoicest morceaux of the family magazine of his youth, theTraveller's Joy, in white parchment binding adorned with clematis, and emblazoned with the Evelyn arms on one side, the Brownlow on theother, and full of photographs and reproductions of drawings. 

"Much too costly, " said the prudent. 

"It was not for sale, " said Mysie, obviously uneasy while it wasbeing handed round. 

"Half-a-crown should be our outside price, " said Gillian. 

"Or a shilling without photographs, half-a-crown with, " was added. 

"Shall I ask Uncle Lance what can be done for how much?" asked Anna, and this was accepted with acclamation, but, as Gillian observed, they had yet got no further than Dolores' Eruption and the unwrittenhistory. 

"There are lots of stories, " said Kitty Varley; "the one about Bayardand all the knights in Italy. "

"The one, " said Gillian, "where Padua got into the kingdom of Naples, and the lady of the house lighted a lucifer match, besides the horsewho drained a goblet of red wine. "

"You know that was only the pronouns, " suggested the author. 

"Then there's another, " added Valetta, "called Monrepos-—such abeauty, when the husband was wounded, and died at his wife's feetjust as the sun gilded the tops of the pines, and she died when themoon set, and the little daughter went in and was found dead at theirfeet. "

"No, no, Val, " said Gillian. "Here is a story that Bessie has sentus-—really worth having. "

"Mesa! Oh, of course, " was the acclamation. 

"And here's a little thing of mine, " Gillian added modestly, "aboutthe development of the brain. "

At this there was a shout. 

"A little thing! Isn't it on the differential calculus?"

"Really, I don't see why Rockquay should not have a little rationalstudy!"

"Ah! but the present question is what Rockquay will buy; to furtherfuture development it may be, but I am afraid their brains are notyet developed enough, " said Emma Norton. 

"Well then, here is the comparison between Euripides andShakespeare. "

"That's what you read papa and everybody to sleep with, " said Valettapertly. 

"Except Aunt Lily, and she said she had read something very like itin Schlegel, " added Dolores. 

"You must not be too deep for ordinary intellects, Gillian, " saidEmma Norton good-naturedly. "Surely there is that pretty history youmade out of Count Baldwin the Pretender. "

"That! Oh, that is a childish concern. "

"The better fitted for our understandings, " said Emma, disinterringit, and handing it over to Anna, while Mysie breathed out—-

"Oh! I did like it! And, Gill, where is Phyllis's account of theJubilee gaieties and procession last year?"

"That would make the fortune of any paper, " said Anna. 

"Yes, if Lady Rotherwood will let it be used, " said Gillian. "It isreally delightful and full of fun, but I am quite sure that her namecould not appear, and I do not expect leave to use it. "

"Shall I write and ask?" said Mysie. 

"Oh yes, do; if Cousin Rotherwood is always gracious, it is speciallyto you. "

"I wrote to my cousin, Gerald Underwood, " said Anna, "to ask if hehad anything to spare us, though I knew he would laugh at the wholeconcern, and he has sent down this. I don't quite know whether hewas in earnest or in mischief. "

And she read aloud—-

 "Dreaming of her laurels green, The learned Girton girl is seen, Or under the trapeze neat Figuring as an athlete. 

 Never at the kitchen door Will she scrub or polish more; No metaphoric dirt she eats, Literal dirt may form her treats. 

 Mary never idle sits, Home lessons can't be learnt by fits; Hard she studies all the week, Answers with undaunted cheek. 

 When to exam Mary goes, Smartly dressed in stunning clothes, Expert in algebraic rule, Best pupil-teacher of her school. 

 Oh, how clever we are found Who live on England's happy ground, Where rich and poor and wretched may Be drilled in Whitehall's favoured way. "

There was a good deal of laughter at this parody of Jane Taylor'sVillage Girl, though Mysie was inclined to be shocked as at somethingprofane. 

"Then what will you think of this?" said Anna, beginning gravely toread aloud The Inspector's Tour. 

It was very clever, so clever that Valetta and Kitty Varley bothlistened as in sober earnest, never discovering, or only in flasheslike Mysie, that it was really a satire on all the social state ofthe different European nations, under the denomination of schools. One being depicted as highly orthodox, but much given to sentenceinsubordination to dark cold closets; another as given to severedrill, but neglecting manners; a third as repudiating religiousteaching, and now and then preparing explosions for the masters-—no, teachers. The various conversations were exceedingly bright andcomical; and there were brilliant hits at existing circumstances, alla little in a socialistic spirit, which made Anna pause as she read. She really had not perceived till she heard it in her own voice andwith other ears how audacious it was, especially for a school bazaar. 

Dolores applauded with her whole heart, but owned that it might betoo good for the Mouse-trap, it would be too like catching a monkey!Gillian, more doubtfully, questioned whether it would "quite do"; andMysie, when she understood the allusions, thought it would not. EmmaNorton was more decided, and it ended by deciding that the papershould be read to the elders at Clipstone, and their decision takenbefore sending it to Uncle Lance. 

The spirits of the Muscipula party rose as they discussed theremaining MSS. , but these were not of the highest order of merit; andAnna thought that the really good would be sufficient; and all theUnderwood kith and kin had sufficient knowledge of the Press throughtheir connection with the 'Pursuivant' to be authorities on thesubject. 

"Fergus has some splendid duplicate ammonites for me and bits ofcrystal, " said Mysie. 

"Oh, do let Fergus alone, " entreated Gillian. "He is almost apetrifaction already, and you know what depends on it. "

"My sister is coming next week for a few days, " said Anna. "She isvery clever, and may help us. "

Emilia was accordingly introduced to the Mice, but she was not verytolerant of them. Essay societies, she said, were out of date, andshe thought the Rockquay young ladies a very country-town set. 

"You don't know them, Emmie, " said Anna. "Gillian and Dolores arevery remarkable girls, only-—"

"Only they are kept down by their mothers, I suppose. Is that thereason they don't do anything but potter after essay societies andSunday-schools like our little girls at Vale Leston? Why, I askedGillian, as you call her, what they were doing about the Penitents'Home, and she said her mother and Aunt Jane went to look after it, but never talked about it. "

"You know they are all very young. "

"Young indeed! How is one ever to be of any use if mothers andpeople are always fussing about one's being young?"

"One won't always be so-—"

"They would think so, like the woman of a hundred years old, who saidon her daughter's death at eighty, 'Ah, poor girl, I knew I nevershould rear her!' How shall I get to see the Infirmary here?"

"Miss Mohun would take you. "

"Can't I go without a fidgety old maid after me?"

"I'll tell you what I wish you would do, Emmie. Write an account ofone of your hospital visits, or of the match-girls, for the Mouse-trap. Do! You know Gerald has written something for it. "

"He! Why he has too much sense to write for your voluntary schools. Or it would be too clever and incisive for you. Ah! I see it was soby your face! What did he send you? Have you got it still?"

"We have really a parody of his which is going in--The Girton Girl. Now, Emmie, won't you? You have told me such funny things about yourmatch-girls. "

"I do not mean to let them be turned into ridicule by your prim, decorous swells. Why, I unfortunately told Fernan Brown one story—-about their mocking old Miss Bruce with putting on imitationspectacles-—and it has served him for a cheval de bataille eversince! Oh, my dear Anna, he gets more hateful than ever. I wish youwould come back and divert his attention. "

"Thank you. "

"Don't you think we could change? You could go and let Marilda fusswith you, now that Uncle Clem and Aunt Cherry are so well, and Icould look after Adrian, and go to the Infirmary, and the penitents, and all that these people neglect; maybe I would write for the Mouse-trap, if Gerald does when he comes home. "

Anna did not like the proposal, but she pitied Emilia, and cared forher enough to carry the scheme to her aunt. But Geraldine shook herhead. The one thing she did not wish was to have Emmie riding, walking, singing, and expanding into philanthropy with Gerald, andbesides, she knew that Emilia would never have patience to read toher uncle, or help Adrian in his preparation. 

"Do you really wish this, my dear?" she asked. 

"N-—no, not at all; but Emmie does. Could you not try her?"

"Annie dear, if you wish to have a fortnight or more in town-—"

"Oh no, no, auntie, indeed!"

"We could get on now without you. Or we would keep Emmie till theroom is wanted; but I had far rather be alone than have theresponsibility of Emmie. "

"No, no, indeed; I don't think Adrian would be good long with her. Ihad much rather stay—-only Emmie did wish, and she hates the—-"

"Oh, my dear, you need not tell me; I only know that I cannot haveher after next week; the room will be wanted for Gerald. "

"She could sleep with me. "

"No, Annie, I must disappoint you. There is not room for her, andher flights when Gerald comes would never do for your uncle. Youknow it yourself. "

Anna could not but own the wisdom of the decision, and Emmie, aftergrumbling at Aunt Cherry, took herself off. She had visited theInfirmary and the Convalescent Home, and even persuaded Mrs. Hablotto show her the Union Workhouse, but she never sent her contributionto the Mouse-trap. 

CHAPTER IX. OUT BEYOND

Do the work that's nearest, Though it's dull at whiles, Helping, when we meet them, Lame dogs over stiles. See in every hedgerowMarks of angels' feet;Epics in each pebbleUnderneath our feet. -—C. KINGSLEY. 

"Drawing? Well done, Cherie! That's a jolly little beggar; quitemasterly, as old Renville would say, " exclaimed Gerald Underwood, looking at a charming water-colour of a little fisher-boy, which Mrs. Grinstead was just completing. 

"'The Faithful Henchman, ' it ought to be called, " said Anna. "Thatlittle being has attached himself to Fergus Merrifield, and followshim and Adrian everywhere on what they are pleased to call theirscientific expeditions. "

"The science of larks?"

"Oh dear, no. Fergus is wild after fossils, and has made Adrian thesame, and he really knows an immense deal. They are always afterfossils and stones when they are out of school. "

"The precious darling!"

"Miss Mohun says Fergus is quite to be trusted not to take him intodangerous places. "

"An unlooked-for blessing. Ha!" as he turned over his aunt'sportfolio, "that's a stunner! You should work it up for theAcademy. "

"This kind of thing is better for the purpose, " Mrs. Grinstead said. 

"Throw away such work upon a twopenny halfpenny bazaar! Heavenforefend!"

"Don't be tiresome, Gerald, " entreated Anna. "You are going to doall sorts of things for it, and we shall have no end of fun. "

"For the sake of stopping the course of the current, " returnedGerald, proceeding to demonstrate in true nineteenth-century stylethe hopelessness of subjecting education to what he was pleased tocall clericalism. "You'll never reach the masses while you insist onusing an Apostle spoon. "

"Masses are made up of atoms, " replied his aunt. 

"And we shall be lost if you don't help, " added Anna. 

"I would help readily enough if it were free dinners, or anything toequalize the existence of the classes, instead of feeding theartificial wants of the one at the expense of the toil andwretchedness of the other. "

He proceeded to mention some of the miseries that he had learntthrough the Oxford House—-dilating on them with much enthusiasm-—tillpresently his uncle came in, and ere long a parlour-maid announcedluncheon, just as there was a rush into the house. Adrian was caughtby his sister, and submitted, without more than a "Bother!" to bemade respectable, and only communicating in spasmodic gasps factsabout Merrifield and hockey. 

"Where's Marshall?" asked Gerald at the first opportunity, on themaid leaving the room. 

"Marshall could not stand it, " said his aunt. "He can't existwithout London, and doing the honours of a studio. "

"Left you!"

"Most politely he informed me that this place does not agree with hishealth; and there did not seem sufficient scope for his servicessince the Reverend Underwood had become so much more independent. Sowe were thankful to dispose of him to Lord de Vigny. "

"He was a great plague, " interpolated Adrian, "always jawing aboutthe hall-door. "

"Are you really without a man-servant?" demanded Gerald. 

"In the house. Lomax comes up from the stables to take some of thework. Some lemonade, Gerald?"

Gerald gazed round in search of unutterable requirements; but onlymet imploring eyes from aunt and sister, and restraining ones fromhis uncle. He subsided and submitted to the lemonade, while Annadiverted attention by recurring rather nervously to the formersubject. 

"And I have got rid of Porter, she kept me in far too good order. "

"As if Sibby did not, " said Clement. 

"Aye, and you too! But that comes naturally, and began in babyhood!"

"What have you done with the house at Brompton?"

"Martha is taking care of it-—Mrs. Lightfoot, don't you know? One ofour old interminable little Lightfoots, who went to be a printer inLondon, married, and lost his wife; then in our break-up actuallymarried Martha to take care of his children! Now he is dead, and Iam thankful to have her in the house. "

"To frighten loafers with her awful squint. "

"You forgive the rejection of 'The Inspector's Tour'? Indeed I thinkyou expected it. "

"I wanted to see whether the young ladies would find it out. "

"No compliment to our genius, " said his aunt. 

"I assure you, like Mrs. Bennet, 'there is plenty of that sort ofthing, '" said Anna. "Some of them were mystified, but Gillian andDolores Mohun were in ecstasies. "

"Ecstasies from that cheerful name?"

"She is the New Zealand niece-—Mr. Maurice Mohun's daughter. Theycarried it home to their seniors, and of course the verdict was 'toostrong for Rockquay atmosphere, '" said his aunt. 

"So it did not even go to Uncle Lance, " said Anna. "Shall you trythe 'Pursuivant'?"

"On the contrary, I shall put in the pepper and salt I regretted, andtry the 'Censor'. "

"Indeed?" observed his uncle, in a tone of surprise. 

"Oh, " said Gerald coolly, "I have sent little things to the 'Censor'before, which they seem to regard in the light of pickles and laver. "

The 'Censor' was an able paper on the side of philosophical politics, and success in that quarter was a feather in the young man's cap, though not quite the kind of feather his elders might have desired. 

"Journalism is a kind of native air to us, " said Mrs. Grinstead, "butfrom 'Pur. '"

"'Pur' is the element of your dear old world, Cherie, " said Gerald, "and here am I come to do your bidding in its precincts, for a wholelong vacation. "

He spoke lightly, and with a pretty little graceful bow to his aunt, but there was something in his eyes and smile that conveyed to her adread that he meant that he only resigned himself for the time andlooked beyond. 

"Uncle Lance is coming, " volunteered Adrian. 

"Yes, " said Geraldine. "Chorister that he was, and champion ofChurch teaching that he is, he makes the cause of Christian educationeverywhere his own, and is coming down to see what he can doinexpensively with native talent for concert, or masque, orsomething—-'Robin Hood' perhaps. "

"Ending in character with a rush on the audience?" said Gerald. "Otherwise 'Robin Hood' is stale. "

"Tennyson has spoilt that for public use, " said Mrs. Grinstead. "Butwas not something else in hand?"

"Only rehearsed. It never came off, " said Gerald. 

"The most awful rot, " said Adrian. "I would have nothing to do withit. "

"In consequence it was a failure, " laughed Gerald. 

"It was 'The Tempest', wasn't it?" said Anna. 

"Not really!" exclaimed Mrs. Grinstead. 

"About as like as a wren to an eagle, " said Gerald. 

"We had it at the festival last winter. The authors adapted theplot, that was all. "

"The authors being--

"The present company, " said Gerald, "and Uncle Bill, with Uncle Lancesupplying or adapting music, for we were not original, I assure you. "

"It was when Uncle Clem was ill, " put in Anna, "and somehow I don'tthink we took in the accounts of it. "

"No, " said Gerald, "and nobody did it con amore, though we could notput it off. I should like to see it better done. "

"Such rot!" exclaimed Adrian. "There's an old man, he was UncleLance with the great white beard made out of Kit's white bear's skin, and he lived in a desert island, where there was a shipwreck—-veryjolly if you could see it, only you can't—-and the savages-—no, thewreckers all came down. "

"What, in a desert island?"

"It was not exactly desert. Gerald, I say, do let there be savages. It would be such a lark to have them all black, and then I'd act. "

"What an inducement!"

"Then somebody turned out to be somebody's enemy, and the old chapfrightened them all with squibs and crackers and fog-horns, tillsomebody turned out to be somebody else's son, and married thedaughter. "

"If you trace 'The Tempest' through that version you are clever, "said Gerald. 

"I told you it was awful rot, " said Adrian. 

"There's Merrifield! Excuse me, Cherie. " And off he went. 

"The sentiments of the actors somewhat resembled Adrian's. It wastoo new, and needed more learning and more pains, so they beg torevert to 'Robin Hood'. However, I should like to see it well got upfor once, if only by amateurs. Miranda has a capital song by UncleBill, made for Francie's soprano. She cuts you all out, Anna. "

"That she does, in looks and voice, but she could not act here inpublic. However, we will lay it before the Mouse-trap. Was itprinted?"

"Lance had enough for the performers struck off. Francie could sendsome up. "

"After all, " said Cherie, "the desert island full of savages andwreckers is not more remarkable than the 'still-vex'd Bermoothes'getting between Argiers and Sicily. "

"It _really was_ one of the Outer Hebrides, " said Gerald, with theeagerness that belonged to authorship, "so that there could be anyamount of Scottish songs. Prospero is an old Highland chief, who hasbeen set adrift with his daughter-—Francie Vanderkist to wit-—andfloated up there, obtaining control over the local elves andbrownies. Little Fely was a most dainty sprite. "

"I am glad you did not make Ariel an electric telegraph, " said hisaunt. 

"Tempting, but such profanity in the face of Vale Leston wasforbidden, and so was the comic element, as bad for theteetotallers. "

"But who were the wreckers?" asked Anna. 

"Buccaneers, my dear, singing songs out of the 'Pirate'-—schoolmaster, organist, and choir generally. They had capturedProspero's supplanter (he was a Highland chief in league with theWhigs) by the leg, while the exiled fellow was Jacobite, so as tohave the songs dear to the feminine mind. They get wrecked on theisland, and are terrified by the elves into releasing Alonso, etc. Meantime Ferdinand carries logs, forgathers with Miranda andProspero-—and ends-—" He flourished his hands. 

"And it wasn't acted!"

"No, we were getting it up before Christmas, " said Gerald, "andthen-—"

He looked towards Clement, whose illness had then been at the crisis. 

"Very inconsiderate of me, " said Clement, smiling, "as the old womansaid when her husband did not die before the funeral cakes werestale. But could it not come off at the festival?"

"Now, " said Gerald, "that the boy is gone, I may be allowed a glassof beer. Is that absurdity to last on here?"

"Adrian's mother would not let him come on any other terms, " saidMrs. Grinstead. 

"Did she also stipulate that he was never to see a horse? Quite asfatal to his father. "

"You need not point the unreason, but consider how she has suffered. "

"You go the way to make him indulge on the sly. "

"True, perhaps, " said Clement, "but I mean to take the matter up whenI know the poor little fellow better. "

Gerald gave a little shrug, a relic of his foreign ancestry, and Annaproposed a ride to Clipstone to tell Gillian Merrifield of the idea. 

"Eh, the dogmatic damsel that came with you the year we had'Midsummer Night's Dream'?"

"Yes, sister to Uncle Bernard's wife. Do you know Jasper Merrifield?Clever man. Always photographing. "

So off they went, Gerald apparently in a resigned state of mind, andcame upon dogs and girls in an old quarry, where Mysie had draggedthem to look for pretty stones and young ferns to make littlerockeries for the sale of work. 'The Tempest' was propounded, andreceived with acclamation, though the Merrifields declared that theycould not sing, and their father would not allow them to do so inpublic if they could!

Dolores looked on in a sort of silent scorn at a young man who couldtalk so eagerly about "a trumpery raree-show, " especially for anobject that she did not care about. None of them knew how far it wasthe pride of authorship and the desire of pastime. Only Jasper saidwhen he heard their report—-

"Underwood is a queer fellow! One never knows where to have him. Socialist one minute, old Tory the next. "

"A dreamer?" asked Dolores. 

"If you like to call him so. I believe he will dawdle and dream allhis life, and never do any good!"

"Perhaps he is waiting. "

"I don't believe in waiting, " said Jasper, wiping the dust off hisphotographic glasses. "Why, he has a lovely moor of his own, anddoes not know how to use it!"

"Conclusive, " said Gillian. 

CHAPTER X. NOBLESSE OBLIGE

The other won't agree thereto, So here they fall to strife;With one another they did fight About the children's life. Babes in the Wood. 

"I say, Aunt Cherry, " said Adrian, "the fossil forest is to beuncovered to-morrow, and Merrifield is going to stay for it, and I'mgoing down with him. "

"Fossil forest? What, in the Museum?"

"No, indeed. In Anscombe Cove, they call it. There's a forestburied there, and bits come up sometimes. To-morrow there's to be atremendous low tide that will leave a lot of it uncovered, andMerrifield and I mean to dig it out, and if there are some duplicatebits they may be had for the bazaar. "

"Yes, they have been begging Fergus's duplicates for a collection offossils, " said Anna. "But can it be safe? A low tide means a hightide, you know. "

"Bosh!" returned Adrian. 

"Miss Mohun is sure to know all about the tides, I suppose, " saidClement; "if her nephew goes with her consent I suppose it is safe. "

"If-—" said Mrs. Grinstead. 

Adrian looked contemptuous, and muttered something, on which Annaundertook to see Miss Mohun betimes, and judge how the land, orrather the sea, lay, and whether Fergus was to be trusted. 

It would be a Saturday, a whole holiday, on which he generally wenthome for Sunday, and Adrian spent the day with him, but the boys'present scheme was, to take their luncheon with them and spend thewhole day in Anscombe Cove. This was on the further side of the bayfrom the marble works, shut in by big cliffs, which ran out into longchains of rocks on either side, but retreated in the midst, where alittle stream from the village of Anscombe, or rather from themoorland beyond, made its way to the sea. 

The almanacks avouched that on this Saturday there would be anunusually low tide, soon after twelve o'clock, and Fergus had set hisheart on investigating the buried forest that there was no doubt hadbeen choked by the combined forces of river and sea. So Anna foundthat notice had been sent to Clipstone of his intention of devotinghimself to the cove and not coming home till the evening, and thathis uncle and aunt did not think there was any danger, especially ashis constant henchman, Davie Blake, was going with him, and all thefisher-boys of the place were endowed with a certain instinct fortheir own tides. The only accident Jane Mohun had ever known waswith a stranger. 

Anna had no choice but to subside, and the boys started as soon asthe morning's tide would have gone down sufficiently, carryingbaskets for their treasures containing their luncheon, and apparentlyexpecting to find the forest growing upright under the mud, like awood full of bushes. 

The cove for which they were bound was on the further side of thechain of rocks, nearly two miles from Rockquay, and one of the roadsran along the top of the red cliffs that shut it in, with no openingexcept where the stream emerged, and even that a very scanty bank ofshingle. 

In spite of all assurances, Anna could not be easy about her darling, and when afternoon came, and the horses were brought to the door, shecoaxed Gerald into riding along the cliffs in the Anscombe direction, where there was a good road, from whence they could turn down a steephill into the village, and thence go up a wild moor beyond, or elsecontinue along the coast for a considerable distance. 

As they went out she could see nothing of the boys, only rocks risingthrough an expanse of mud, and the sea breaking beyond. She wouldhave preferred continuing the cliff road, but Gerald had a turn forthe moor, and carried her off through the village of Anscombe, up andup, till they had had a lively canter on the moor, and looked far outat sea. When they turned back and had reached the cliff road, whathad been a sheet of mud before had been almost entirely covered withsparkling waves, and there was white foam beating against some of therocks. 

"I hope Adrian is gone home, " sighed Anna. 

"Long ago, depend on it, " returned Gerald carelessly; but the nextmoment his tone changed. "By Jove!" he exclaimed, and pointed withhis whip to a rock, or island, at the end of the range of rocks. 

He was much the more long-sighted of the two, and she could onlyfirst discern that there was something alive upon the rock. 

"Oh!" she cried, "is it the boys-—I can't see?"

"I can't tell. It is boys, maybe fishers. I must get out to them, "he replied. "Now, Anna, be quiet-—use your senses. It is somebody, anyway. I saw the opening of a path down the rock just now, " and hethrew himself off his horse, and threw her the bridle. "You ride tothe first house; find where there is a Coast-guard station, or anyfisherman to put out a boat. No time to be lost. "

"Oh, is it, is it—-" cried the bewildered girl, with no hand to feelfor her eyeglass. "Where shall I go?"

"I tell you I can't tell, " he shouted in answer to both questions, half angrily, already on his way. "Don't dawdle, " and hedisappeared. 

Poor Anna, she had no inclination to dawdle, but the two horses werea sore impediment, and she went on some way without seeing anyhouses. Should she turn back to the little road leading down fromAnscombe? but that was rough and difficult, and could not beundertaken quickly with a led horse; or should she make the best ofher way to the nearest villas, outskirts of Rockquay? However, aftera moment the swish of bicycles was heard, and up came two young men, clerks apparently, let loose by Saturday. They halted, and in answerto her agitated question where there was a house, pointed to a pathwhich they said led down to the Preventive station, and asked whetherthere had been an accident, and whether they could be of use. Theywere more able to decide what was best to be done than she could be, and they grew more keenly interested when they understood for whomshe feared. Petros White, brother to Mrs. Henderson, and nephew toAunt Adeline's husband, was one of them, the other, a youth alsoemployed at the marble works. This latter took the horses off herhands, while Petros showed her the way to the Coast-guard station bya steep path, leading to a sort of ledge in the side of the cliff, scooped out partly by nature and partly by art, where stood thelittle houses covered with slate. 

There the mistress was looking out anxiously with a glass; whilebelow, the Preventive man was unlocking the boat-house, havingalready observed the peril of the boys, but lamenting the absence ofhis mate. Petros ran down at speed to offer his help, and Anna couldonly borrow the glass, through which she plainly saw the three boys, bare-legged, sitting huddled up on the top of the rock, but with thewaves still a good way from them, and their faces all turnedhopefully towards the promontory of rock along which she could seeGerald picking his way; but there was evidently a terrible and fast-diminishing space between its final point and the rock of refuge. 

Anna was about to rush down, and give her help with an oar; but thewoman withheld her, saying that she would only crowd the boat andretard the rescue, for which the two were quite sufficient, only thedanger was that the current of the stream might make the tide riserapidly in the bay. There were besides so many rocks and shoals, that it was impossible to proceed straight across, but it was needfulabsolutely to pass the rock and then turn back on it from the opensea. It was agonizing for the sister to watch the devious course, and she turned the glass upon the poor boys, plainly making outAdrian's scared, restless look, as he clung to the fisher-lad, andFergus nursing his bag of specimens with his knees drawn up. By andby Gerald was wading, and with difficulty preventing himself frombeing washed off the rocks. He paused, saw her, and wavedencouragement. Then he plunged along, not off his feet, and reachedthe island where the boys were holding out their arms to him. Thereensued a few moments of apparently hot debate, and she saw, to herhorror and amazement, that he was thrusting back one boy, whostruggled and almost fell off the rock in his passion, as Geraldlifted down the little fisher-boy. Of course she could not hear thewords, "Come, boy. No, Adrian. Noblesse oblige. I will come back, never fear. I can take but one, don't I tell you. I will comeback. "

Those were Gerald's words, while Adrian threw himself on the rock, sobbing and screaming, while Fergus sat still, hugging his bag. Annacould have screamed with her brother, for the boat seemed to haveovershot the mark, and to be going quite aloof, when all dependedupon a few minutes. She could hardly hear the words of thePreventive woman, who had found a second glass: "Never you fear, miss, the boat will be up in time. "

She could not speak. Her heart was in wild rebellion as she thoughtof the comparative value of her widowed mother's only son with thatof the fisher-boy, or even of Fergus, one of so large a family. Shecould not or would not look to see what Gerald was doing with thewretched little coast boy; but she heard her companion say that thegentleman had put the boy down to scramble among the rocks, and hehimself was going back to the pair on the rock, quite swimming now. 

She durst look again, and saw that he had scrambled up to the boys'perch, and had lifted Adrian up, but there was white spray dashinground now. She could not see the boat. 

"They have to keep to the other side, " explained the woman. "Godkeep them! It will be a near shave. The gentleman is taking off hiscoat!"

Again there was a leap of foam-—over! over! Then all was blottedout, but the woman exclaimed—-

"There they are!"

"Oh! where?"

"One swimming! He is floating the other. "

Anna could see no longer. She dashed aside the telescope, thenbegged to be told, then looked again. No prayer would come but "Savehim! save him!"

There was a call quite close. 

"Mr. Norris, sir, put off your boat! Master Fergus-—Oh! is he off?"and, drenched and breathless, Davy sank down on the ground at theirfeet, quite spent, unable at first to get out a word after thosepanting ones; but in a minute he spoke in answer to the agonized"Which? Who?"

"Master Fergus is swimming. The young sir couldn't. "

Anna recollected how her mother's fears and entreaties had preventedMr. Harewood from teaching Adrian to swim. 

"Gent is floating him, " added the boy. "He took me first, because Icould get over the rocks and get help soonest. He is a realgentleman, he is. "

Anna could not listen to anything but "The boat is coming!"

"Oh, but they don't see! They are going away from it!"

"That's the current, " said Mrs. Norris. "My man knows what he isabout, and so does the gentleman, never fear. "

There was another terrible interval, and then boat and swimmers beganto approach, though in what condition could not be made out. A darklittle head, no doubt that of Fergus, was lifted in, then anotherfigure was raised and taken into the boat; Gerald swam with a hand onit for a short distance, then was helped in, and almost at once tookan oar. 

"That's right, " said Mrs. Norris. "It will keep out the cold. "

"They are not coming here, " exclaimed Anna. "They are going roundthe point. "

"All right, " was the answer. "'Tis more direct, you see, no shoals, and the young gentlemen will get to their own homes and beds all thequicker. Now, miss, you will come in and take a cup of tea, I amsure you want it, and I had just made it when Norris saw the littlelads. "

"Oh, thank you, I must get back at once. My little brother—-"

"Yes, yes, miss, but you'll be able to ride the faster for a bit ofbread and cup of tea! You are all of a tremble. "

It was true, and to pacify her, Mrs. Norris sent a child up to bidPetros have the horses ready, and Anna was persuaded to swallow alittle too, which happily had cooled enough for her haste, but shehurried off, leaving Mrs. Norris to expend her hospitality on Davy, who endured his drenching like a fish, and could hardly wait even toswallow thick bread-and-butter till he could rush off to hear of hisdear Master Fergus. 

The horses were ready. Petros had been joined by other spectators, and was able to entrust the bicycles to one of them, while he himselfundertook to lead Mr. Underwood's horse to the stable. Anna rode offat as much speed or more than was safe downhill among the stones. She had to cross the broad parade above the quay, and indeed shebelieved she had come faster than the boat, which had to skirt roundthe side of the promontory between Anscombe Cove and Rockquay. Infact, when she came above the town she could see a crowd on the quayand pier, all looking out to sea, and she now beheld two boats makingfor the harbour. 

Then she had to ride between walls and villas, and lost sight of alltill she emerged on the parade, and thought she saw Uncle Clement'shat above the crowd as she looked over their heads. 

She gave her horse to a bystander, who evidently knew her, for amurmur went through the crowd of "Little chap's sister, " and way wasmade for her to get forward, while several rough voices said, "Allright"; "Coast-guard boat"; "Not this one. "

Her uncle and Miss Mohun wore standing together. General Mohun couldbe seen in the foremost boat, and they could hear him call out, witha wave of his arm—-

"All right! All safe!"

"You hero! Where's Gerald?" Miss Mohun exclaimed, as Anna came upto her. 

"There!" and she pointed to the Coast-guard boat. "We saw the boysfrom Anscombe Cliff, and he went out to them. "

"Gerald, " exclaimed his uncle, with a ring of gladness in his voice, all the more that it was plain that the rower was indeed Gerald, andhe began to hail those on shore, while Fergus's head rose up from thebottom of the boat. 

In a few moments they were close to the quay, and the little soddenmass that purported to be Fergus was calling out—-

"Aunt Jane! Oh, I've lost such a bit of aralia. Where's Davy?"

"Here, take care. He is all right, " were Gerald's words. 

_He_ meant Adrian, whom his cousin lifted out, with eyes open andconscious, but with limp hands and white exhausted looks, to becarried to the fly that stood in waiting. 

"Is the other boy safe?" asked Gerald anxiously. 

"Oh yes; but how could you?" were the first words that came to Anna;but she felt rebuked by a strange look of utter surprise, and insteadof answering her he replied to General Mohun—-

"Thanks, no, I'll walk up!" as a rough coat was thrown over hisdripping and scanty garments. 

"The wisest way, " said the General. "Can you, Fergus?"

"Yes, quite well. Oh, my aralia!"

"He has been half crying all the way home about his fossils, " saidGerald. "Never mind, Fergus; look out for the next spring-tide. Uncle Clem, you ought to drive up. "

Clement submitted, clearly unable to resist, and sat down by Anna, who had her brother in her arms, rubbing his hands and warming them, caressing him, and asking him how he felt, to which the only answershe got was—-

"It was beastly. I have my mouth awfully full of water still. "

Clement made a low murmur of thanksgiving, and Anna, looking up, wasstartled to see how white and helpless he was. The way was happilyvery short, but he had so nearly fainted that Gerald, hurrying onfaster uphill than the horse to reassure his aunt, lifted him out, not far from insensible, and carried him with Sibby's help to his bedin the room on the ground-floor, where the remedies were close athand, Geraldine and nurse anxiously administering them; when thefirst sign of revival he gave was pointing to Gerald's drippingcondition, and signing to him to go and take care of himself. 

"All right, yes, boys and all! All right Cherie. "

And he went, swallowing down the glass of stimulant which his auntturned from her other patient for a moment to administer, but she wasmuch too anxious about Clement to have thought for any one else, fortruly it did seem likely that he would be the chief sufferer from thecatastrophe. 

Little Davy's adventure, as he had lost no clothes, made no moreimpression on his parents than if he had been an amphibious animal ora water dog, and when Fergus came out of Beechwood Cottage afterhaving changed the few clothes he had retained, and had a good meal, to be driven home with his uncle in the dog-cart, his constanthenchman was found watching for news of him at the gate. 

"Please, sir, I think we'll find your aralia next spring-tide. "

Whereupon General Mohun told him he was a good little chap, andpresented him with a half-crown, the largest sum he had everpossessed in his life. 

Fergus did not come off quite so well, for when the story had beentold, though his mother had trembled and shed tears of thankfulnessas she kissed him, and his sisters sprang at him and devoured him, while all the time he bemoaned his piece of the stump of an aralia, and a bit of cone of a pinus, and other treasures to whichimaginative regret lent such an aid, that no doubt he would believethe lost contents of his bag to have been the most precious articlesthat he had ever collected; his father, however, took him into hisstudy. 

"Fergus, " he said gravely, "this is the second time your ardour uponyour pursuits has caused danger and inconvenience to other people, this time to yourself too. "

Fergus hung his head, and faltered something about—-"Never saw. "

"No, that is the point. Now I say nothing about your pursuits. I amvery glad you should have them, and be an intelligent lad; but theymust not be taken up exclusively, so as to drive out all heed toanything else. Remember, there is a great difference between courageand foolhardiness, and that you are especially warned to be carefulif your venturesomeness endangers other people's lives. "

So Fergus went off under a sense of his father's displeasure, whileAdrian lay in his bed, kicking about, admired and petted by hissister, who thought every one very unkind and indifferent to him; andwhen he went to sleep, began a letter to her eldest sister describingthe adventure and his heroism in naming terms, such as on secondthoughts she suppressed, as likely to frighten her mother, and leadto his immediate recall. 

CHAPTER XI. HEROES AND HERO-WORSHIP

Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-changeInto something rich and strange. -—Tempest. 

Sunday morning found Anna in a different frame of mind from that ofthe evening before. Uncle Clement had been very ill all night, andthe house was to be kept as quiet as possible. When Anna came infrom early Celebration, Aunt Cherry came out looking like a ghost, and very anxious, and gave a sigh of relief on Adrian being reportedstill sound asleep. Gerald presently came down, pale and languid, but calling himself all right, and loitering over his breakfast tillafter the boy appeared, so rosy and ravenous as to cause noapprehension, except that he should devour too much apricot jam, anduse his new boots too noisily on the stairs. 

Anna devised walking him to Beechcroft to hear if there were any newsof Fergus, and though he observed, with a certain sound ofcontemptuous rivalship, that there was no need, for "Merrifield wasas right as a trivet, " he was glad enough to get out of doors alittle sooner, and though he affected to be bored by the kindinquiries of the people they met, he carried his head all the higherfor them. 

Nobody was at home except General Mohun, but he verified Adrian'simpression of his nephew's soundness, whatever the mysteriouscomparison might mean; and asked rather solicitously not only afterMr. Underwood but after Gerald, who, he said, was a delicate subjectto have made such exertions. 

"It really was very gallant and very sensible behaviour, " he said, ashe took his hat to walk to St. Andrew's with the brother and sister, but Anna was conscious of a little pouting in Adrian's expression, and displeasure in his stumping steps. 

Gerald came to church, but went to sleep in the sermon, and hadaltogether such a worn-out look that no one could help rememberingthat he had never been very strong, and had gone through muchexertion the day before, nor could he eat much of the mid-day meal. Mrs. Grinstead, who was more at ease about her brother, lookedanxiously at him, and with a kind of smile the word "Apres" passedbetween them. The Sunday custom was for Clement to take Adrian tosay his Catechism, and have a little instruction before going outwalking, but as this could not be on this day, Anna and he were to goout for a longer walk than usual, so as to remove disturbance fromthe household. Gerald declined, of course, and was left extended onthe sofa; but just as Anna and Adrian had made a few steps along thestreet, and the boy had prevailed not to walk to Clipstone, as shewished, but to go to the cliffs, that she might hear the adventurerelated in sight of the scene of action, he discovered that he hadleft a glove. He was very particular about Sunday walking in glovesin any public place, and rushed back to find it, leaving his sisterwaiting. Presently he came tearing back and laughing. 

"Did you find it?"

"Oh yes; it was in the drawing-room. And what else do you think Ifound? Why, Cherie administering"-—and he pointed down his throat, and made a gulp with a wild grimace of triumph. "On the sly! Ha!ha!"

Anna felt as if the ground had opened under her feet, but sheanswered gravely—-

"Poor Gerald went through a great deal yesterday, and is quiteknocked up, so no wonder he needs some strengthening medicine. "

"Strengthening grandmother! Don't you think I know better thanthat?" he cried, with a caper and a grin. 

"Of course you had to have some cordial when you were taken out ofthe water. "

"And don't you know what it was?"

"I know the fisher-people carry stuff about with them in case ofaccidents. "

"That's the way with girls-—just to think one knows nothing at all. "

"What do you know, Adrian?"

"Know? Why, I haven't been about with Kit and Ted Harewood fornothing! Jolly good larks it is to see how all of you take forgranted that a fellow never knew the taste of anything but tea andmilk-and-water. "

"But what do you know the taste of?" she asked, with an earnestnessthat provoked the boy to tease and put on a boasting manner, so thatshe could not tell how much he was pretending for the sake of amazingand tormenting her, in which he certainly succeeded. 

However, his attention was diverted by coming round the corner towhere there was a view of Anscombe Bay, when he immediately began tofight his battles o'er again, and show where they had been groping inthe mud and seaweed in pursuit of sea-urchins, and stranded star-fish, and crabs. 

"And it wasn't a forest after all, it was just a sell-—nothing butmud and weed, only Fergus would go and poke in it, and there werehorrid great rough stones and rocks too, and I tumbled over one. "

Anna here became conscious that the whole place was the resort of theafternoon promenaders of Rockquay, great and small, of all ranks anddegrees, belonging to the "middle class" or below it, and that theymight themselves become the object of attention; and she begged herbrother to turn back and wait till they could have the place tothemselves. 

"These are a disgusting lot of cads, " he agreed, "but there won't besuch a jolly tide another time. I declare I see the very rock whereI saw the sea-mouse-—out there! red and shiny at the top. "

Here a well-dressed man, who had just come up the Coast-guard path, put aside his pipe, and taking off his hat, deferentially asked—-

"Have I the honour of addressing Sir Adrian Vanderkist?"

Adrian replied with a gracious nod and gesture towards his straw hat, and in another moment Anna found him answering questions, and givinghis own account of the adventure to the inquirer, who, she had littledoubt, was a reporter, and carrying his head, if possible, higher inconsequence as he told how Fergus Merrifield had lingered over hisstones, and all the rest after his own version. She did not hear thewhole, having had to answer the inquiries of one of the bicyclefriends of the previous day, but when her attention was free sheheard—-

"And the young lady, Sir Adrian?"

"Young lady! Thank goodness, we were not bothered with any of thatsort. "

"Indeed, Sir Adrian, I understood that there was a young lady, MissAurelia, that Master Merrifield was lamenting, as if she had met witha watery grave. "

"Ha! ha! Aralia was only the name of a bit of fossil kind of a stickthat Merrifield had us down there to find in the fossil forest. I'msure I saw no forest, only bits of mud and stuff! But he found abit, sure enough, and was ready to break his heart when he had toleave his bag behind him on the rock. Aralia a young lady! That's agood one. "

He forgathered with a school-fellow on the way home, and Anna heardlittle more. 

The next day, however, there arrived the daily local paper, addressedto Sir Adrian Vanderkist, Bart. , and it was opened by him atbreakfast-time. 

"I say! Look here! 'Dangerous Accident in Anscombe. A YouthfulBaronet in peril!' What asses people are!" he added, with an oddaccess of the gratified shame of seeing himself for the first time inprint. But he did not proceed to read aloud; there evidently wassomething he did not like, and he was very near pocketing it andrushing off headlong to school with it, if his aunt and Anna had notentreated or commanded for it, when he threw it over with anuncomplimentary epithet. 

"Just what I was afraid of when I saw the man talking to him!"exclaimed Anna. "Oh, listen!

"'The young Sir Adrian Vanderkist, at present residing at St. Andrew's Rock with his aunt, Mrs. Grinstead, and the Rev. E. C. Underwood, and who is a pupil at Mrs. Edgar's academy for younggentlemen, was, we are informed, involved in the most imminentdanger, together with a son of General Sir Jasper Merrifield, K. G. C. , a young gentleman whose remarkable scientific talent and taste appearto have occasioned the peril of the youthful party, from whence theywere rescued by Gerald F. Underwood, Esq. , of Vale Leston. '"

"What's all that?" said Gerald F. Underwood, Esquire, sauntering inand kissing his aunt. "Good-morning. How is Uncle Clement thismorning?"

"Much better; I think he will be up by and by, " answered Mrs. Grinstead. 

"What bosh have you got there? The reporters seized on their prey, eh?"

"There's Sir Jasper!" exclaimed Anna, who could see through theblinds from where she sat. 

Sir Jasper had driven over with his little son, and, after leavinghim at school, had come to inquire for Mr. Underwood, and to obtain afuller account of the accident, having already picked up a paper andglanced at it. 

"I am afraid my little scamp led them into the danger, " he said. "Scientific taste forsooth! Science is as good a reason as anythingelse for getting into scrapes. "

"Really, " said Gerald, "I can't say I think your boy came out theworst in it, though I must own the Rockquay Advertiser bestows mostof the honours of the affair on the youthful baronet! You say heblew his own trumpet, " added Gerald, turning to Anna. 

"The reporter came and beset us, " said Anna, in a displeased voice. "I did not hear all that passed, but of course Adrian told him whathe told me, only those people make things sound ridiculous. "

"To begin with, " said Gerald, "I don't think Fergus, or at any rateDavy Blake, was in fault. They tried to go home in good time, havingan instinct for tides, but Adrian was chasing a sea-mouse or somesuch game, and could not be brought back, and then he fell over aslippery rock, and had to be dragged out of a hole, and by that timethe channel of the Anscombe stream was too deep, at least for him, who has been only too carefully guarded from being amphibious. "

"Oh! that did not transpire at home, " said Sir Jasper. "Boys are soreserved. "

Mrs. Grinstead and Anna looked rather surprised. Anna even ventured—-

"I thought Fergus got too absorbed. "

"So did I, " said his father dryly. "And he did not justify himself. "

"M-—m-—m, " went on Gerald, skimming the article. 

"Read it, " cried Anna. "You know none of us have seen it. "

Gerald continued—-

"'Their perilous position having been observed from Anscombe cliffs, Mr. G. F. Underwood of Vale Leston heroically' (i. E. Humbugically)'made his way out to their assistance, while a boat was put off bythe Coast-guard, and that of Mr. Carter, fisherman, from Rockquay waslaunched somewhat later. ' We could not see either of them, you know. My eye, this is coming it strong! 'The young baronet generouslyinsisted that the little fisher-boy, David Blake, who had accompaniedthem, should first be placed in safety-—'"

"Didn't he?" exclaimed Anna. "I saw, and I wondered, but I thoughtit was his doing. "

"You saw?"

"Yes, in the Coast-guard's telescope. "

"Oh! That is a new feature in the case!"

"Then he did not insist?" said Mrs. Grinstead. 

"It was with the wrong side of his mouth. "

"But why did you send the fisher-boy first, when after all his lifewas less important?" exclaimed Anna, breaking forth at last. 

"First, for the reason that I strove to impress on 'the youthfulbaronet, ' Noblesse oblige. Secondly, that Davy knew how to make hisway along the rocks, and also knew where to find the Preventivestation. I could leave him to get on, as I could not have done withthe precious Adrian, and that gave a much better chance for us all. It was swimming work by the time I got back, and by that time Ithought the best alternative for any of us was to keep hold as longas we could, and then keep afloat as best we might till we werepicked up. Your boy was the hero of it all. Adrian was so angrywith me for my disrespect that I could hardly have got him to listento me if Fergus had not made him understand, that to let himself bepassive and be floated by me till the boats came up was the onlything to be done. There was one howl when he had to let go hisbeloved aralia, but he showed his soldier blood, and behaved mostmanfully. "

"I am most thankful to hear it, " said his father, "and especiallythankful to you. "

"Oh! there was not much real danger, " said Gerald lightly, "to anyone who could swim. "

"But Adrian could not, " said Anna. "Oh! Gerald, what do we not oweto you?"

"I must be off, " said Sir Jasper; "I must see about a new jacket formy boy. By the bye, do you know how the little Davy fared in thematter of clothes?"

"Better than any of us, " said Gerald. "He was far too sharp to gomud-larking in anything that would be damaged, and had his boots safelaid up in a corner. I wish mine were equally safe. "

Sir Jasper's purchases were not confined to boots and jacket, but ascompensation for his hard words included a certain cabinet full ofdrawers that had long been Fergus's cynosure. 

Anna and her aunt were much concerned at what was said of Adrian, andstill more at the boastful account that he seemed to have given; butthen something, as Mrs. Grinstead observed, must be allowed for thereporter's satisfaction in having interviewed a live baronet. Eachof the parties concerned had one hero, and if the Merrifields' wasFergus, to their own great surprise and satisfaction, Aunt Cherry wasvery happy over her own especial boy, Gerald, and certainly it was aneasier task than to accept "the youthful baronet" at his ownvaluation or that of the reporter. 

Mrs. Grinstead considered whether to try to make him less conceitedabout it, and show him his want of truth. She consulted his uncleabout it, showing the newspaper, and telling, and causing Gerald totell, the history of the accident, which Clement had not been fit tohear all the day before. 

He was still in bed, but quite ready to attend to anything, and helaughed over the account, which she illustrated by the discoveriesshe had made from the united witnesses. 

"And is it not delightful to see for once what Gerald really is?" shesaid. 

"Yes, he seems to have behaved gallantly, " said his uncle; "and Iwon't say just what might have been expected. "

"One does expect something of an Underwood, " she said. 

"Little Merrifield too, who saw the danger coming, deserves morehonour than he seems to have taken to himself. "

"Yes, he accepted severity from that stern father of his, who seemsvery sorry for it now. It is curious how those boys' blood comes outin the matter—-chasser de race. "

"You must allow something for breeding. Fergus had not been the idolof a mother and sisters, and Gerald remembered his father in danger. "

"Oh, I can never be glad enough that he has that remembrance of him!How like him he grows! That unconscious imitation is so curious. "

"Yes, the other day, when I had been dozing, I caught myself callingout that he was whistling 'Johnny Cope' so loud that he would beheard in the shop. "

"He seems to be settling down more happily here than I expected. Isometimes wonder if there is any attraction at Clipstone. "

"No harm if there were, except—-"

"Except what? Early marriage might be the very best thing. "

"Perhaps, though sometimes I doubt whether it is well for a man tohave gone through the chief hopes and crises of life so soon. Helooks out for fresh excitement. "

"There are so many stages in life, " said Geraldine, sighing. "Andwith all his likenesses, Gerald is quite different from any of you. "

"So I suppose each generation feels with those who succeed it. Nordo I feel as if I understood the Universities to-day as I didCambridge thought of old. We can do nothing but wait and pray, andput out a hand where we see cause. "

"Where we see! It is the not seeing that is so trying. The beingsure that there is more going on within than is allowed to meet one'seye, and that one is only patronized as an old grandmother—-quite outof it. "

"I think the conditions of life and thought are less simple than inour day. "

"And to come to the present. What is to be done about Adrian-—theone who was not a hero, though he made himself out so?"

"Probably he really thought so. He is a mere child, you know, and itwas his first adventure, before he has outgrown the days ofcowardice. "

"He need not have told stories. "

"Depend upon it, he hardly knew that he did so. "

"He had the reporter to help him certainly, and the 'RockquayAdvertiser' may not keep to the stern veracity and simplicity of the'Pursuivant'. "

"And was proud to interview a live baronet. "

"Then what shall we do-—Anna and I, I mean?"

"Write the simple facts to Vale Leston, and then let it alone. "

"To him?"

"Certainly. He would think your speaking mere nagging. Preserve anominous silence if he speaks. His school-fellows will be his bestcure. "

"Well, he did seem ashamed!"

Clement was right. The boy's only mention of the paragraph was onceas "that beastly thing"; and Anna discovered from Valetta Merrifield, that whatever satisfaction he might have derived from it had beeneffectually driven out of him by the "fellows" at Mrs. Edgar's, whohad beset him with all their force of derision, called him nothingbut the "youthful Bart. , " and made him ashamed as none of theopposite sex or of maturer years could ever have succeeded in doing. Valetta said Fergus had tried to stop it, but there had certainlybeen one effect, namely, that Adrian was less disposed to be"Merry's" shadow than heretofore, and seemed inclined instead to takeup with the other seniors. 

One thing, however, was certain. Gerald enjoyed a good deal moreconsideration among the Clipstone damsels than before. True, asJasper said, it was only what any one would have done; but he haddone it, and proved himself by no means inferior to "any one, " andFergus regarded him as a true hero, which had a considerable effecton his sisters, the more perhaps because Jasper derided theiradmiration. 

They were doubly bent on securing him for a contributor to the Mouse-trap. They almost thought of inviting him to their Browningafternoons, but decided that he would not appreciate the femininecompany, though he did so often have a number of the 'Censor' todiscuss it with Dolores, whenever they met him. 

CHAPTER XII. THE LITTLE BUTTERFLY

The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral. -—Hamlet. 

The Matrons, otherwise denominated lady patronesses, met incommittee, Miss Mohun being of course the soul and spirit of all, though Mrs. Ellesmere, as the wife of the rector of old RockstoneChurch, was the president, Lady Flight, one of the most interested, was there, also Lady Merrifield, dragged in to secure that there wasnothing decided on contrary to old-world instincts, Mrs. Grinstead, in right of the musical element that her brother promised, thebeautiful Mrs. Henderson, to represent the marble works, Mrs. Simmonds of the Cliff Hotel, the Mayoress, and other notables. 

The time was fixed for the first week in August, the only one whenengagements would permit the Rotherwood family to be present for theopening, and when the regatta was apt to fill Rockquay with visitors. The place was to be the top of the cliffs of Rockstone, where thegardens of the Cliff Hotel, of Beechcroft Cottage, Rocca Marina, andCarrara, belonging respectively to Miss Mohun, Mr. White, and CaptainHenderson, lay close together separated by low walls, and each with aprivate door opening on a path along the top of the cliffs. Theycould easily be made to communicate together, by planks laid over theboundaries, and they had lawns adapted for tents, etc. , and RoccaMarina rejoiced in a shrubbery and conservatories that were a show inthemselves, and would be kindly lent by Mr. And Mrs. White, thoughhealth compelled them to be absent and to resort to Gastein. Thehotel likewise had a large well-kept garden, where what Mrs. Simmondscalled a pavilion, "quite mediaeval, " was in course of erection, andcould be thrown open on the great day. 

It was rather "tea-gardenish, " but it could be made available for therepresentation of The Outlaw's Isle. Lancelot made a hurried visitto study the place, and review the forces, and decided that it waspracticable. There could be a gallery at one end for the spectators, and the outer end toward the bay could be transformed into a stage, with room for the orchestra, and if the weather were favourable thereal sea could be shown in the background. The scenes had beenpainted by the clever fingers at Vale Leston. It remained to castthe parts. Lancelot himself would be Prospero, otherwise AlasterMaclan, and likewise conductor, bringing with him the school-masterof Vale Leston, who could supply his part as conductor when he was onthe stage. His little boy Felix would be Ariel, the other elvescould be selected from the school-children, and the local ChoralSociety would supply the wreckers and the wrecked. But the demur wasover Briggs, a retired purser, who had always had a monopoly of sea-songs, and who looked on the boatswain as his right, and was likelyto roar every one down. Ferdinand would be Gerald, under the name ofAngus, but the difficulty was his Miranda-—Mona as she was called. The Vanderkists could not be asked to perform in public, nor wouldSir Jasper Merrifield have consented to his daughters doing so, evenif they could have sung, and it had been privately agreed that noneof the other young ladies of Rockquay could be brought forward, especially as there was no other grown-up female character. 

"My wife might undertake it, " said Lancelot, "but her voice is nother strong point, and she would be rather substantial for a Miranda. "

"It would be rather like finding a mother instead of a wife—-with allrespect to my Aunt Daisy, " laughed Gerald. 

"By the bye, I'm sure I once heard a voice, somewhere down by thesea, that would be perfect, " exclaimed Lance. "Sweet and powerful, fresh and young, just what is essential. I heard it when I was inquest of crabs with my boy. "

"I know!" exclaimed Gerald, "the Little Butterfly, as they call her!"

"At a cigar-shop, " said Lance. 

"Mrs. Schnetterling's. Not very respectable, " put in Lady Flight. 

"Decidedly attractive to the little boys, though, " said Gerald. "Sweets, fishing-tackle, foreign stamps, cigars. I went in once tosee whether Adrian was up to mischief there, and the Mother Butterflylooked at me as if I had seven heads; but I just got a glimpse of thegirl, and, as my uncle says, she would make an ideal Mona, orMiranda. "

"Lydia Schnetterling, " exclaimed Mr. Flight. "She is a very prettygirl with a nice voice. You remember her, Miss Mohun, at ourconcerts? A lovely fairy. "

"I remember her well. I thought she was foreign, and a RomanCatholic. "

"So her mother professes-—a Hungarian. The school officer sent herto school, and she did very well there, Sunday-school and all, andwas a monitor. She was even confirmed. Her name is really Ludmilla, and Lida is the correct contraction. But when I wanted her to beapprenticed as a pupil-teacher, the mother suddenly objected that sheis a Roman Catholic, but I very much doubt the woman's having anyreligion at all. I wrote to the priest about her, but I believe hecould make nothing of her. Still, Lydia is a very nice girl-—comesto church, and has not given up the Choral Society. "

"She is a remarkably nice good girl, " added Mrs. Henderson. "Shecame to me, and entreated that I would speak for her to be taken onat the marble works. "

"You have her there?"

"Yes; but I am much afraid that her talents do not lie in the way ofhigh promotion, and I think if she does not get wages enough tosatisfy her mother, she is in dread of being made to sing at public-houses and music-halls. "

"That nice refined girl!"

"Yes; I am sure the idea is dreadful to her. "

"Could you not put her in the way of getting trained?" asked Geraldof his uncle. 

"I must hear her first. "

"I will bring her up to the Choral Society tonight, " said Mr. Flight. 

"What did you call her?" said Geraldine. 

"Some German or foreign name, Schnetterling, and the school calls herLydia. "

At that moment the council was invaded, as it sat in Miss Mohun'sdrawing-room, upon rugs and wicker chairs, to be refreshed with tea. In burst a whole army of Merrifields, headed by little Primrose, nowa tall girl of twelve years old, more the pet of the family than anyof her elders had been allowed to be. Her cry was—-

"Oh, mamma, mamma, here's the very one for the captain of thebuccaneers!"

The startling announcement was followed by the appearance of a tall, stalwart, handsome young man of a certain naval aspect, whom LadyMerrifield introduced as Captain Armytage. 

"We must congratulate him, Gillian, " she said. "I see you aregazetted as commander. "

Primrose, who had something of the licence of the youngest, observed—-

"We have been telling him all about it. He used to be OliverCromwell in 'How Do You Like It?' and now he will be a buccaneer!"

"Oliver Cromwell, you silly child!" burst out Gillian, with a littleshake, while the rest fell into fits of laughing. 

"I fear it was a less distinguished part, " said Captain Armytage. 

"May I understand that you will help us?" said Lancelot. "I heard ofyou at Devereux Castle. "

"I don't think you heard much of my capabilities, especially musicalones. I was the stick of the party, " said Captain Armytage. 

It was explained that Captain Armytage had actually arrived thatafternoon at the Cliff Hotel, and had walked over to call atClipstone, whence he found the young ladies setting out to walk toRockstone. He could not deny that he had acted and sung, though, ashe said, his performance in both cases was vile. Little MissPrimrose had most comically taken upon her to patronize him, and tooffer him as buccaneer captain had been a freak of her own, hardly tobe accounted for, except that Purser Briggs's unsuitableness had beendiscussed in her presence. 

"Primrose is getting to be a horrid little forward thing, " observedGillian to her aunt. 

"A child of the present, " said Miss Mohun. "Infant England! But hersuggestion seems to be highly opportune. "

"I don't believe he can sing, " growled Gillian, "and it will be justan excuse for his hanging about here. "

There was something in Gillian's "savagery" which gave Aunt Jane acurious impression, but she kept it to herself. 

Late in the evening Lance appeared in his sister's drawing-roomwith—-

"I have more hopes of it. I did not think it was feasible when Annawrote to me, but I see my way better now. That parson, Flight, has agood notion of drilling, and that recruit of the little Merrifieldgirl, Captain Armytage, is worth having. "

"If he roared like a sucking dove we would have him, only to silencethat awful boatswain, " said Gerald; "and as to the little Cigaretta, she is a born prima donna. "

"Your Miranda? Are you content with her?" said his aunt. 

"She is to the manner born. Lovely voice, acts like a dragon, andhas an instinct how to stand and how to hold her hands. "

"Coming in drolly with her prim dress and bearing. Though she wasdreadfully frightened, " said Lance. "Being half-foreign accounts forsomething, I suppose, but it is odd how she reminds me of some one. No doubt it is of some singer at a concert. What did they say washer name?"

"Ludmilla Schnetterling, the Little Butterfly they call her. Foreignon both sides apparently, " said Gerald. "Those dainty ankles neverwere bred on English clods. "

"I wonder what her mother is, " said Mrs. Grinstead. 

"By the bye, I think it must have been her mother that I saw thatmorning when little Felix dragged me to a cigar-shop in quest of anornamental crab-—a handsome, slatternly hag sort of woman, who mighthave been on the stage, " said Lance. 

"Sells fishing-tackle, twine, all sorts, " came from Adrian. 

"Have you been there?" asked his sister, rather disturbed. 

"Of course! All the fellows go! It is the jolliest place for"-—hepaused a moment—-"candies and ginger-beer. "

"I should have thought there were nicer places!" sighed Anna. 

"You have yet to learn that there is a period of life when it is ajoy to slip out of as much civilization as possible, " said Lance, putting his sentence in involved form so as to be the less understoodby the boys. 

"Did you say that Flight had got hold of them?" asked Clement. 

"Hardly. They are R. C. 's, it seems; and as to the Mother Butterfly, I should think there was not much to get hold of in her; but Mrs. Henderson takes interest in her marble-workers, and the girl is thesort of refined, impressible creature that one longs to save, ifpossible. To-morrow I am going to put you all through your parts, Master Gerald, so don't you be out of the way. "

"One submits to one's fate, " said Gerald, "hoping that virtue may beits own reward, as it is in the matter of 'The Inspector's Tour', which the 'Censor' accepts, really enthusiastically for a paper, though the Mouse-trap would have found it-—what shall I say?-—aweasel in their snare. "

"Does it indeed?" cried Anna, delighted. "I saw there was a letterby this last post. "

"Aye-—invites more from the same pen, " he replied lazily. 

"Too much of weasel for the 'Pursuivant' even?" said Geraldine. 

"Yes, " said Lance; "these young things are apt to tear our old trapsand flags to pieces. By the bye, who is this Captain Armytage, whohappily will limit Purser Briggs to 'We split, we split, we split, 'or something analogous?"

"I believe, " said Gerald, "that he joined the Wills-of-the-Wisp, thatcompany which was got up by Sir Lewis Willingham, and played atDevereux Castle a year or two ago. Some one told me they werewonderfully effective for amateurs. "

"That explains the acquaintance with Lady Merrifield, " said Mrs. Grinstead. 

"Oh, yes, " said Anna. "Mysie told me all about it; and how Mr. DavidMerrifield married the nicest of them all, and how much they likedthis Captain Armytage. "

"Was not Mysie there when he arrived?"

"No, she was gone to see the Henderson children, but Gillian looked awhole sheaf of daggers at him. You know what black brows Gillianhas, and she drew them down like thunder, " and Anna imitated as wellas her fair open brows would permit, "turning as red as fire all thetime. "

"That certainly means something, " said Geraldine, laughing. 

"I should like to see Gillian in love, " laughed Anna; "and I reallythink she is afraid of it, she looked so fierce. "

The next evening there was time for a grand review in the parishschool-room of all possible performers on the spot. In the midst, however, a sudden fancy flashed across Lancelot that there wassomething curiously similar between those two young people whooccupied the stage, or what was meant to be such. Their gesturescorresponded to one another, their voices had the same ring, andtheir eyes wore almost of the same dark colour. Now Gerald's eyeshad always been the only part of him that was not Underwood, and hadnever quite accorded with his fair complexion. 

"Hungarian, I suppose, " said Lance to himself, but he was not quitesatisfied. 

What struck him as strange was that though dreadfully shy andfrightened when off the stage, as soon as she appeared upon it, though not yet in costume, she seemed to lose all consciousness thatshe was not Mona. 

Perhaps Mrs. Henderson could have told him. Her husband beingmanager and partner at Mr. White's marble works, she had always takengreat interest in the young women employed, had actually attended totheir instruction, assisted in judging of their designs, and usedthese business relations to bring them into inner contact with her, so that her influence had become very valuable. She was at thelittle room which she still kept at the office, when there was aknock at the door, and "Miss Schnetterling" begged to speak to her. She felt particularly tender towards the girl, who was evidentlydoing her best in a trying and dangerous position, and after thefirst words it came out—-

"Oh, Mrs. Henderson, do you think I must be Mona?"

"Have you any real objection, Lydia? Mr. Flight and all of them seemto wish it. "

"Yes, and I can't bear not to oblige Mr. Flight, who has been sogood, so good!" cried Lydia, with a foreign gesture, clasping herhands. "Indeed, perhaps my mother would not let me off. That iswhat frightens me. But if you or some real lady could put me asidethey could not object. "

"I do not understand you, my dear. You would meet with nounpleasantness from any one concerned, and you can be with the fairychildren. Are you shy? You were not so in the fairy scenes lastwinter-—you acted very nicely. "

"Oh yes, I liked it then. It carries me away; but-—oh! I am afraid!"

"Please tell me, my dear. "

Lydia lowered her voice. 

"I must tell you, Mrs. Henderson, mother was a singer in public once, and a dancer; and oh! they were so cruel to her, beat her, andstarved her, and ill-used her. She used to tell me about it when Iwas very little, but now I have grown older, and the people like myvoice, she is quite changed. She wants me to go and sing at theHerring-and-a-Half, but I won't, I won't-—among all the tipsy men. That was why she would not let me be a pupil-teacher, and why shewill not see a priest. And now-—now I am sure she has a plan in herhead. If I do well at this operetta, and people like me, I am sureshe will get the man at the circus to take me, by force perhaps, andthen it would be all her life over again, and I know that wasterrible. "

Poor Ludmilla burst into tears. 

"Nay, if she suffered so much she would not wish to expose you to thesame. "

"I don't know. She is in trouble about the shop-—the cigars. Oh! Ishould not have told! You won't-—you won't—-Mrs. Henderson?"

"No, you need not fear, I have nothing to do with that. "

"I don't think, " Lydia whispered again, "that she cares for me as sheused to do when I was a little thing. Now that I care for my duty, and all that you and Mr. Flight have taught me, she is angry, andlaughs at English notions. I was in hopes when I came to work herethat my earnings would have satisfied her, but they don't, and Idon't seem to get on. "

Mrs. Henderson could not say that her success was great, but sheventured as much as to tell her that Captain Henderson could preventany attempt to send her away without her consent. 

"Oh! but if my mother went too you could not hinder it. "

"Are you sixteen, my dear? Then you could not be taken against yourwill. "

"Not till December. And oh! that gentleman, the conductor, he knewall about it, I could see, and by and by I saw him lingering aboutthe shop, as if he wanted to watch me. "

"Mr. Lancelot Underwood! Oh, my dear, you need not be afraid of him, he is a brother of Mrs. Grinstead's, a connection of Miss Mohun's;and though he is such a musician, it is quite as an amateur. But, Lydia, I do think that if you sing your best, he may very likely beable to put you in a way to make your talent available so as tosatisfy your mother, without leading to anything so undesirable anddangerous as a circus. "

"Then you think I ought-—"

"It is a dangerous thing to give advice, but really, my dear, I dothink more good is likely to come of this than harm. "

CHAPTER XIII. TWO SIDES OF A SHIELD AGAIN

The wisest aunt telling the saddest tale. Midsummer Night's Dream. 

The earlier proofs of the Mouse-trap were brought by Lance, who hadspent more time in getting them into shape than his wife approved, and they were hailed with rapture by the young ladies on seeingthemselves for the first time in print. As to Gerald, he had so longbeen bred—-as it were-—to journalism that, young as he was, he hadcaught the trick, and 'The Inspector's Tour' had not only beenwelcomed by the 'Censor', but portions had been copied into otherpapers, and there was a proposal of publishing it in a separatebrochure. It would have made the fortune of the Mouse-trap, if ithad not been so contrary to its principles, and it had really beensent to them in mischief, together with The 'Girton Girl', of whichsome were proud, though when she saw it in print, with a lyre andwreath on the page, sober Mysie looked grave. 

"Do you think it profane to parody Jane Taylor?" said Gerald. 

"No, but I thought it might hurt some people's feelings, anddiscourage them, if we laugh at the High School. "

"Why, Dolores goes to give lectures there, " exclaimed Valetta. 

"Nobody is discouraged by a little good-humoured banter, " saidGillian. "Nobody with any stuff in them. "

"There must be some training in chaff though, " said Gerald, "or theydon't know how to take it. "

"And in point of fact, " said Dolores, "the upper tradesmen'sdaughters come off with greater honours in the High School than dothe young gentlewomen. "

"Very wholesome for the young Philistines, " said Gerald. "Thedaughters of self-made men may well surpass in energy those settledon their lees. "

Gerald and Dolores were standing with their backs to the wall ofAnscombe Church, which Jasper Merrifield and Mysie were zealouslyphotographing, the others helping—-or hindering. 

"I thought upper tradesfolk were the essence of Philistines, "returned Dolores. 

"The elder generation-—especially if he is the son of the energeticman. The younger are more open to ideas. "

"The stolid Conservative is the one who has grown up while his fatherwas making his fortune, the third generation used to be thegentleman, now he is the man who is tired of it. "

"Tired of it, aye!" with a sigh. 

"Why you are a man with a pedigree!" she returned. 

"Pedigrees don't hinder-—what shall I call it?—-the sense of beingfettered. "

"One lives in fetters, " she exclaimed. "And the better one likesone's home, the harder it is to shake them off. "

He turned and looked full at her, then exclaimed, "Exactly, " andpaused, adding, "I wonder what you want. Has it a form?"

"Oh yes, I mean to give lectures. I should like to see the world, and study physical science in every place, then tell the next aboutit. I read all I can, and I think I shall get consent to give someelementary lectures at the High School, though Uncle Jasper does nothalf like it, but I must get some more training to do the thingrightly. I thought of University College. Could you get me anyinformation about it?"

"Easily; but you'll have to conquer the horror of the elders. "

"I know. They think one must learn atheism and all sorts of thingsthere. "

"You might go in for physical science at Oxford or Cambridge. "

"I expect that is all my father would allow. In spite of thecolonies, he has all the old notions about women, and would donothing Aunt Lily really protested against. "

"You are lucky to have a definite plan and notion to work for. Nowfate was so unkind as to make me a country squire, and not only that, but one bound down, like Gulliver among the Liliputians, with allmanner of cords by all the dear good excellent folks, who look onthat old mediaeval den with a kind of fetish-worship, sprung of theirhaving been kept out of it so long, and it would be an utter smash ofall their hearts if I uttered a profane word against it. I would assoon be an ancient Egyptian drowning a cat as move a stone of it. Itis a lovely sort of ancient Pompeii, good to look at now and then, but not to be bound down to. "

"Like Beechcroft Court, a fossil. It is very well there are suchplaces. "

"Yes, but not to be the hope of them. It is my luck. If my eldestuncle, who had toiled in a bookseller's shop all his youth andreigned like a little king, had not gone and got killed in a boatingaccident, there he would be the ruling Sir Roger de Coverley of thecounty, a pillar of Church and State, and I should be a free man. "

"Won't they let you go about, and see everything?"

"Oh yes, I am welcome to do a little globe-trotting. They are nofools; if they were I should not care half so much; but wherever Iwent, there would be a series of jerks from my string, and not havingan integument of rhinoceros hide, I could not disregard them withouta sore more raw than I care to carry about. After all, it is only aglobe, and one gets back to the same place again. "

"Men have so many openings. "

"I'm not rich enough for Parliament, and if I were, maybe it would beworse for their hearts, " he said, with a sigh. 

"There's journalism, a great power. "

"Yes, but to put my name to all I could—-and long to say-—would be anequal horror to the dear folks. "

"Yet you are helping on this concern. "

"True, but partly pour passer le temps, partly because I really wantto hear 'The Outlaws Isle' performed, and all under protest that thewindmill will soon be swept away by the stream. "

"Indeed, yes, " cried Dolores. "They hope to regulate the stream. They might as well hope to regulate Mississippi. "

"Well-chosen simile! The current is slow and sluggish, butirresistible. "

"Better than stagnating or sticking fast in the mud. "

"Though the mud may be full of fair blossoms and sweet survivals, "said Gerald sadly. 

"Oh yes, people in the old grooves are delightful, " said Dolores, "but one can't live, like them, with a heart in G. F. S. , like myAunt Jane, really the cleverest of any of us! Or like Mysie, notstupid, but wrapped up in her classes, just scratching the surface. Now, if I went in for good works I would go to the bottom-—down tothe slums. "

"Slums are one's chief interest, " said Gerald; "but no doubt it willsoon be the same story over and over, and only make one wish—-"

"What?"

"That there could be a revolution before I am of age. "

"What's that?" cried Primrose, coming up as he spoke. "Arevolution?"

"Yes, guillotines and all, to cut off your head in Rotherwood Park, "said Gerald lightly. 

"Oh! you don't really mean it. "

"Not that sort, " said Dolores. "Only the coming of thecoquecigrues. "

"They are in 'The Water Babies', " said Primrose, mystified. 

Each of those two liked to talk to the other as a sort of fellow-captive, solacing themselves with discussions over the 'Censor' andits fellows. Love is not often the first thought, even where itlurks in modern intellectual intercourse between man and maid; andthough Kitty Varley might giggle, the others thought the idea onlyworthy of her. Aunt Jane, however, smelt out the notion, and couldnot but communicate it to her sister, though adding—-

"I don't believe in it: Dolores is in love with Physiology, and theboy with what Jasper calls Socialist maggots, but not with eachother, unless they work round in some queer fashion. "

However, Lady Merrifield, feeling herself accountable for Dolores, was anxious to gather ideas about Gerald from his aunt, with whom shewas becoming more and more intimate. She was more than twenty yearsthe senior, and the thread of connection was very slender, but theysuited one another so well that they had become Lilias and Geraldineto one another. Lady Merrifield had preserved her youthfulnesschiefly from having had a happy home, unbroken by family sorrows orcarking cares, and with a husband who had always taken his full shareof responsibility. 

"Your nephew's production has made a stir, " said she, when they foundthemselves alone together. 

"Yes, poor boy. " Then answering the tone rather than the words, "Isuppose it is the lot of one generation to be startled by the next. There is a good deal of change in the outlook. "

"Yes, " said Lady Merrifield. "The young ones, especially theyoungest, seem to have a set of notions of their own that I cannotalways follow. "

"Exactly, " said Geraldine eagerly. 

"You feel the same? To begin with, the laws of young ladyhood-—maidenliness-—are a good deal relaxed-—"

"There I am not much of a judge. I never had any young ladyhood, butI own that the few times I went out with Anna I have been surprised, and more surprised at what I heard from her sister Emily. "

"What we should have thought simply shocking being tolerated now. "

"Just so; and we are viewed as old duennas for not liking it. Ishould say, however, that it is not, or has not, been a personaltrouble with me. Anna's passion is for her Uncle Clement, and shehas given up the season on his account, though Lady Travis Underwoodwas most anxious to have her; and as to Emily, though she is obligedto go out sometimes, she hates it, and has a soul set on slums andnursing. "

"You mean that the style of gaieties revolts a nice-minded girl?"

"Partly. Perhaps such as the Travis Underwoods used to take part in, rather against their own likings, poor things, are much lessrestrained for the young people than what would come in yourdaughters' way. "

"Perhaps; though Lady Rotherwood has once or twice in country-houseshad to protect her daughter, to the great disgust of the other youngpeople. That is one development that it is hard to meet, for it isdifficult to know where old-fashioned distaste is the motive, andwhere the real principle of modesty. Though to me the question ismade easy, for Sir Jasper would never hear of cricket for hisdaughters, scarcely of hunting, and we have taken away Valetta andPrimrose from the dancing-classes since skirt-dancing has come in;but I fear Val thinks it hard. "

"Such things puzzle my sisters at Vale Leston. They are part of thesame spirit of independence that sends girls to hospitals or medicalschools. "

"Or colleges, or lecturing. Dolores is wild to lecture, and I see noharm in her trying her wings at the High School on some safe subject, if her father in New Zealand does not object, though I am glad it hasnot occurred to any of my own girls. "

"Sir Jasper would not like it?"

"Certainly not; but if my brother consents he will not mind it forDolores. She is a good girl in the main, but even mine have verydifferent ideals from what we had. "

"Please tell me. I see it a little, and I have been thinking aboutit. "

"Well, perhaps you will laugh, but my ideal work was Sunday-schools. "

"Are not they Miss Mohun's ideal still?"

"Oh yes, infinitely developed, and so they are my cousin Florence's-—Lady Florence Devereux; but the young ones think them behind thetimes. I remember when every girl believed her children theprettiest and cleverest in nature, showed off her Sunday-school asher pride and treasure, and composed small pink books about them, where the catastrophe was either being killed by accident, or goingto live in the clergyman's nursery. Now, those that teach do sosimply as a duty and not a romance. "

"And the difficulty is to find those who will teach, " said Geraldine. "One thing is, that the children really require better teaching. "

"That is quite true. My girls show me their preparation work, and Isee much that I should not have thought of teaching the Beechcroftchildren. But all the excitement of the matter has gone off. "

"I know. The Vale Leston girls do it as their needful work, not withtheir hearts and enthusiasm. I expect an enthusiasm cannot beexpected to last above a generation and perhaps a half. "

"Very likely. A more indifferent thing; you will laugh, but myenthusiasm was for chivalry, Christian chivalry, half symbolic. History was delightful to me for the search for true knights. I hadlists of them, drawings if possible, but I never could indoctrinateanybody with my affection. Either history is only a lesson, or theyknow a great deal too much, and will prove to you that the Cid was aruffian, and the Black Prince not much better. "

"And are you allowed the 'Idylls of the King'?"

"Under protest, now that the Mouse-trap has adopted Browning forweekly reading and discussion. Tennyson is almost put on the sameshelf with Scott, whom I love better than ever. Is it progress?"

"Well, I suppose it is, in a way. "

"But is it the right way?"

"That's what I want to see. "

"Now listen. When our young men, my brothers-—especially my verydear brother Claude and his contemporaries, Rotherwood is the onlyone left—-were at Oxford, they got raised into a higher atmosphere, and came home with beautiful plans and hopes for the Church, and drewus up with them; but now the University seems just an ordeal forfaith to go through. "

"I should think there was less of outward temptation, but more ofsubtle trial. And then the whole system has altered since the timesyou are speaking of, when the old rules prevailed, and the greatgiants of Church renewal were there!" said Geraldine. 

"You belong to the generation whom they trained, and who are nowpassing away. My father was one who grew up then. "

"We live on their spirit still. "

"I hope so. I never knew much about Cambridge till Clement wentthere, but it had the same influence on him. Indeed, all our homehad that one thought ever since I can remember. Clement and Lancegrew up in it. "

"But you will forgive me. These younger men either go very, verymuch further than we older ones dreamt of, or they have flaws intheir faith, and sometimes-—which is the strangest difficulty—-thevehement observance and ritual with flaws beneath in their faithperhaps, or their loyalty—-Socialist fancies. "

"There is impatience, " said Geraldine. "The Church progress has notconquered all the guilt and misery in the world. "

"Who said it would?"

"None of us; but these younger ones fancy it is the Church's fault, instead of that of her members' failures, and so they try to walk inthe light of the sparks that they have kindled. "

"Altruism as they call it—-love of the neighbour without love ofGod. "

"It may lead that way. "

"Does it?"

"Perhaps we are the impatient ones now, " said Geraldine, "indisliking the young ones' experiments, and wanting to bind them toour own views. "

"Then you look on with toleration but with distrust. "

"Distrust of myself as well as of the young ones, and trying not toforget that 'one good custom may corrupt the world, ' so it may be aswell that the pendulum should swing. "

"The pendulum, but not its axis-—faith!"

"No; and of my boy's mainspring of faith I _do_ feel sure, and of hisreal upright steadiness. "

Lady Merrifield asked no more, but could wait. 

But is not each generation a terra incognita to the last? A questionwhich those feel most decidedly who stand on the border-land of both, with love and sympathy divided between the old and the new, clingingto the one, and fearing to alienate the other. 

CHAPTER XIV. BUTTERFLY'S NECTAR

If you heed my warningIt will save you much. -—A. A. PROCTOR. 

Clement Underwood was so much better as to be arrived at takingsolitary rides and walks, these suiting him better than havingcompanions, as he liked to go his own pace, and preferred silence. His sister had become much engrossed with her painting, and sawlikewise that in this matter of exercise it was better to let him gohis own way, and he declared that this time of thought and readingwas an immense help to him, restoring that balance of life which heseemed to himself to have lost in the whirl of duties at St. Matthew's after Felix's death. 

The shore, with the fresh, monotonous plash of the waves, when thetide served, was his favourite resort. He could stand still and lookout over the expanse of ripples, or wander on, as he pleased, watching the sea-gulls float along—-

 "As though life's only call and care Were graceful motion. "

There had been a somewhat noisy luncheon, for Edward Harewood, amidshipman in the Channel Fleet, which was hovering in the offing, had come over on a day's leave with Horner, a messmate whose parentslived in the town. He was a big lad, a year older than Gerald, andas soon as a little awe of Uncle Clement and Aunt Cherry had wornoff, he showed himself of the original Harewood type, directinghimself chiefly to what he meant to be teasing Gerald about ValeLeston and Penbeacon. 

"All the grouse there were on the bit of moor are snapped up. "

"Very likely, " said Gerald coolly. 

"Those precious surveyors and engineers that Walsh brings down cangive an account of them! As soon as you come of age, you'll have todouble your staff of keepers, I can tell you. "

"Guardians of ferae naturae, " said Gerald. 

"I thought your father did all that was required in that line, " saidClement. 

"Not since duffers and land-lubbers have been marauding overPenbeacon-—aye, and elsewhere. What would you say to an engineerpoaching away one of the august house of Vanderkist?"

"The awful cad! I'd soon show him what I thought of his cheek, "cried Adrian, with a flourish of his knife. 

"Ha, ha! I bet that he will be shooting over Ironbeam Park longbefore you are of age. "

"I shall shoot him, then, " cried Adrian. 

"Not improbably there will be nothing else to shoot by that time, "quietly said Gerald. 

"I shall have a keeper in every lodge, and bring up four or fivehundred pheasants every year, " boasted the little baronet, quitealive to the pride of possession, though he had never seen Ironbeamin his life. 

Edward laughed a "Don't you wish you may get it, " and the others, whoknew very well the futility of the poor boy's expectations, even ifGerald's augury were not fulfilled, hastened to turn away theconversation to plans for the afternoon. Anna asked the visitor ifhe would ride out with her and Gerald to Clipstone or to the moor, and was relieved when he declined, saying he had promised to meetHorner. 

"You will come in to tea at five?" said his aunt, "and bring him ifyou like. "

"Thanks awfully, but we hardly can. We have to start from the quayat six sharp. "

All had gone their several ways, and Clement, after the heat of theday, was pacing towards a secluded cove out of an inner bay which laynearer than Anscombe Cove, but was not much frequented. However, hesmelt tobacco, and heard sounds of boyish glee, and presently sawAdrian and Fergus Merrifield, bare-legged, digging in the mud. 

"Ha! youngsters! Do you know the tide has turned? I thought you hadhad enough of that. "

"I thought I might find my aralia!" sighed Fergus. "The tide wasalmost as low. "

Just then there resounded from behind a projecting rock a peal ofundesirable singing, a shout of laughter, and an oath, with—-

"Holloa, those little beasts of teetotallers have hooked it. "

There were confused cries-—"Haul 'em back! Drench 'em. Give 'em aroll in the mud!" and Adrian shrank behind his uncle, taking hold ofhis coat, as there burst from behind the rock a party of boys, headedby the two cadets, all shouting loudly, till brought to a suddenstandstill by the sight of "Parson! By Jove!" as the Horner midmuttered, taking out his pipe, while Edward Harewood mumbledsomething about "Horner's brother's tuck-out. " One or two other boyswere picking up the remains of the feast, which had been on lobsters, jam tarts, clotted cream, and the like delicacies dear to thejuvenile mind. The two biggest school-boys came forward, one volubleand thick of speech about Horner's tuck-out, and "I assure you, sir, it is nothing—-not a taste. Never thought of such-—" Just then theother lad, staggering about, had almost lurched over into thedeepening channel; but Clement caught him by the collar and held himfast, demanding in a low voice, very terrible to his hearers—-

"Where does this poor boy live?"

It was Adrian who answered. 

"Devereux Buildings. "

"You two, Adrian and Fergus, run to the quay and fetch a cab as nearthis place as it can come, " said Clement. "You little fellows, youhad better run home at once. I hope you will take warning by theshame and disgrace of this spectacle. "

The boys were glad enough to disperse, being terrified by thecondition of the prisoner, as well as by the detection; but the twowho were encumbered with the baskets containing the bottles, jam-pots, and tin of cream remained, and so did the two young sailors, Horner saying civilly—-

"You'll not be hard on the kids, sir, for just a spree carried alittle too far. "

"I certainly shall not be hard on the children, whom you seem to havetempted, " was the answer as they moved along; and as the youngerHorner turned towards a little shop near the end of the steps torestore the goods, he asked-—"Were you supplied from hence?"

"Yes, " said Horner, who was perhaps hardly sober enough for caution. "Mother Butterfly is a jolly old soul. "

Looking up. Clement saw no licence to sell spirituous liquors underthe name of Sarah Schnetterling, tobacconist. The window had theplacard 'Ici on parle Francais', and was adorned in a tasteful mannerwith ornamental pipes, fishing-rods and flies, jars of sweets, sheetsof foreign stamps, pictorial advertisements of innocuous beverages. A woman with black grizzling hair, fashionably dressed, flashing darkeyes, long gold ear-rings, gold beads and gaudy attire, came out toreclaim her property. A word or two passed about payment, duringwhich Clement had a strange thrill of puzzled recollection. Thebottles bore the labels of raspberry vinegar and lemonade, but he hadseen too much not to say—-

"You drive a dangerous trade. "

"Ah, sir, young people will be gourmands, " she said, with a foreignaccent. "Ah, that poor young gentleman is very ill. Will he notcome in and lie down to recover?"

"No, thank you, " said Clement. "A carriage is coming to take himhome. "

Something about the fat in the fire was passing between the cadets, and the younger of them began to repeat that he had come for hisbrother's birthday, and that he feared they had brought theyoungsters into a scrape by carrying the joke too far. 

"I have nothing to say to you, sir, " said the Vicar of St. Matthew's, looking very majestic, "except that it is time you were returning toyour ship. As to you, " turning to Edward Harewood, "I can only saythat if you are aware of the peculiar circumstances of AdrianVanderkist, your conduct can only be called fiendish. "

Fergus and Adrian came running up with tidings that the cab waswaiting. Edward Harewood stood sullen, but the other lad said—-

"Unlucky. We are sorry to have got the little fellows into trouble. "

He held out his hand, and Clement did not refuse it, as he did thatof his own nephew. Still, there was a certain satisfaction at hisheart as he beheld the clear, honest young faces of the other twoboys, and he bade Adrian run home and wait for him, saying to Fergus—-

"You seem to have been a good friend to my little nephew. Thankyou. "

Fergus coloured up, speechless between pleasure at the warm tone ofcommendation and the obligations of school-boy honour, nor, withyoung Campbell on their hands, was there space for questions. Thatyouth subsided into a heavy doze in the cab, and so continued tillthe arrival at No. 7, Devereux Buildings, where a capable-lookingmaid-servant opened the door, and he was deposited into her hands, the Vicar leaving his card with his present address, but feelingequal to nothing more, and hardly able to speak. 

He drove home, finding his nephew in the doorway. Signing to themaid to pay the driver, and to the boy to follow him, he reached hisstudy, and sank into his easy-chair, Adrian opening frightened eyesand saying—-

"I'll call Sibby. "

"No-—that bottle-—drop to there, " signing to the mark on the glasswith his nail. 

After a pause, while he held fast the boy, so to speak, with hiseyes, he said—-

"Thank you, dear lad. "

"Uncle Clement, " said Adrian then, "we weren't doing anything. Merrifield thought his old bit of auralia, or whatever he calls it, was there. "

"I saw—-I saw, my boy. To find you-—as you were, made me mostthankful. You must have resisted. Tell me, were you of this party, or did you come on them by accident?"

"Horner asked me, " said Adrian, twisting from one leg to another. 

Clement saw the crisis was come which he had long expected, andrejoiced at the form it had taken, though he knew he should sufferfrom pursuing the subject. 

"Adrian, " he said, "I am much pleased with you. I don't want to getyou into a row, but I should be much obliged if you would tell me howall this happened. "

"It wouldn't, " returned Adrian, "but for that Ted and the otherchap. "

"Do you mean that there would have been none of this-—drinking-—butfor them? Don't be afraid to tell me all. Was the stuff all gotfrom that Mrs. Schnetter—-?"

"Mother Butterfly's? Oh yes. She keeps bottles of grog with thoselabels, and it is such a lark for her to be even with the gangersthat our fellows generally get some after cricket, or for a tuck-out. "

"Not Fergus Merrifield?"

"Oh no; he's captain, you know, but he is two years younger thanCampbell and Horner, and they can't bear him, and when he made a jawabout it—-he can jaw awfully, you know-—and he is stuck up, andHorner major swore he would make him know his bearings-—"

"I wonder he was there at all. "

"Well, Horner asked him, and he can't get those fossils that werelost out of his head, and he thought they might be washed up. Hesaid too, he knew they would be up to something if he wasn't there. "

"Oh!" said Clement, with an odd recollection, "but I suppose he didnot know about these cadets?"

"No, the big Horner sent up to Mother Butterfly's for some morestuff, not so mild, and then Ted set upon me, and said it was allbecause of me that Vale Leston had to live like a boiling of teetotalfrogs and toads, just to please the little baronet's lady mamma, butI was a Dutchman all the same, and should sell them yet-—I sucked itin so well, and they talked of seeing how much I could stand. Something about my governor, and here—-that word in the Catechism. "

"Ah!" gasped Clement, fairly clutching his arm, "and what sparedyou?"

"Horner came down, and Sweetie Bob, that's the errand-boy, and therewas a bother about the money, for Bob wasn't to leave anythingwithout being paid, and while they were jawing about that, Merry laidhold of me and said, 'Come and look for the aralia. ' They got toshouting and singing, and I don't think they saw what was doing. They were nasty songs, and Merry touched me and said, 'Let us goafter the aralia. ' We got away without their missing us at first, but they ran after us when they found it out, and if you had not beenthere, Uncle Clem—-"

"Thank God I was! Now, Adrian, first tell me, did you taste thisstuff? You said you sucked it in. "

"Well, I did, a little. You know, uncle, one cannot always be made ababy. Women don't understand, you know, and don't know what a foolit makes a man to have them always after him, and have everything putout of his way like a precious infant, and people drinking it on thesly like Gerald, or—-"

"Or me, eh, Adrian? I can tell you that I never tasted it for thirtyyears, and now only as a medicine. Lance, never. "

"But they did not treat you like a baby, and never let you see somuch as a glass of beer. "

"Well, I am going to treat you like a man, but it is a sorrowfulhistory that I have to tell you. You know that your mother and AuntWilmet are twin sisters ?"

"Oh yes, though Aunt Wilmet is stout and jolly, and mother ever somuch prettier and more delicate and nice. "

"Yes, from ill-health. She is never free from suffering. "

"I know. Old Dr. May said there was no help for it. "

"Do you know what caused that ill-health? My boy, they spoke of yourfather to-day-—brutes that they were, " he could not help muttering. 

"Yes, he died when I was a week old. "

"He had ruined himself when quite a young man, body, soul, andestate-—and you too, beforehand, in estate, and broken your mother'sheart and health by being given up to that miserable habit from whichwe want to save you. "

"I thought it was only poor men that got drunk and beat their wives"(more knowledge, by the bye, than he was supposed to possess). "Hedid not beat her?"

"Oh no, no, " said Clement, "but he as surely destroyed all herhappiness, and made you and your sisters very poor for your stationin life, so that it is really hard to educate you, and you will haveto work for yourself and them. And at only thirty-six years old hislife was cut off. "

"Was that what D. T. Meant? I heard Ted whisper something aboutthat. "

"It was well, " thought Clement, "that he had grace enough to whisper. Yes, my poor boy, it is only too true. I was sent for to find yourfather dying of delirium tremens—-you just born, your mother nearlydead, the desolation of your sisters unspeakable. He was onlythirty-six, and that vice, together with racing, had devoured him andall the property that should have come to his children. I think hetried to repent at the very last, but there was little time, littlepower, only he put you and your sisters in my charge, and begged meto save you from being like him. "

"Did they mean that I was sure to be like that? Like a pointerpuppy, pointing. "

"They meant it. And, Adrian, it is so far true that there is aninheritance—-with some more, with some less-—of our forefathers'nature. Some have tendencies harder to repress than others. But, mydear boy, you know that we all have had a force given us wherewith torepress and conquer those tendencies, and that we can. "

"When we were baptized, God the Holy Spirit, " said Adrian, under hisbreath. 

"You know it, you can believe now. Your uncle Lance and I prayedthat the old nature might be put down, the new raised up. We pray, your mother and sisters have prayed ever since, that so it may be, that you may conquer any evil tendencies that may be in you; but, Adrian, no one can save you from the outside if you do not striveyourself. Now you see why your poor mother has been so anxious tokeep all temptation out of your reach. "

"But I'm growing a man now. I can't always go on so. "

"No, you can't. You shall be treated as a man while you are with me. But I do very seriously advise you-—nay, I entreat of you, not tobegin taking any kind of liquor, for it would incite the taste togrow upon you, till it might become uncontrollable, and be yourtyrant. If you have reason to think the pledge would be a protectionto you, come to me, or to Uncle Bill. "

He was interrupted by Sibby coming in with his cup of tea, and—-

"Now, Mr. Clement, whatever have you been after now? Up to yourantics the minute Miss Cherry is out of the way. Aye, ye needn't goto palavering me. I hear it in your breath, " and she darted at thestimulant. 

"I've had some, Sibby, since I came in. "

"More reason you should have it now. Get off with you, Sir Adrian, don't be worriting him. Now, drink that, sir, and don't speakanother word. "

He was glad to obey. He wanted to think, in much thankfulness forthe present, and in faith and love which brought hope for the future. 

CHAPTER XV. A POOR FOREIGN WIDOW

Art thou a magistrate? Then be severe. —-GEORGE HERBERT. 

Early in the day General Mohun received a note from ClementUnderwood, begging him to look in at St. Andrew's Rock as soon asmight be convenient. 

"Ah, " said his sister, "I strongly suspect something wrong about theboys. Fergus was very odd and silent last night when I asked himabout Jem Horner's picnic, and he said something about that Harewoodcousin being an unmitigated brute. "

"I hope Fergus was not in a scrape. "

"Oh no, it is not his way. His geology is a great safeguard. If ithad been Wilfred I might have been afraid. "

"His head is full-—at least as much room as the lost aralia leaves—-of the examination for the Winchester College election. "

"Yes, you know Jasper has actually promised Gillian that if either ofher brothers gets a scholarship, she may be allowed a year at LadyMargaret Hall. "

"Yes, it incited her to worry Wilfred beyond sufferance in hisholidays. I know if you or Lily had been always at me I should havekicked as hard as he does. "

"Lily herself can hardly cram him with his holiday task; but Fergusis a good little fellow. "

"You have kept him at it in a more judgmatical way. But won'tArmytage come in between the damsel and her college?"

"Poor Mr. Armytage-—Captain, I believe, for he has got hiscommandership. Gill snubs him desperately. I believe she is afraidof herself and her heart. "

"I hope she won't be a goose. Jasper told me that he is an excellentfellow, and it will be an absolute misfortune if the girl is besottedenough to refuse him. "

"Girls have set up a foolish prejudice against matrimony. "

"Well, I am off. Clement Underwood is a reasonable man, and wouldnot send for me without cause. "

General Mohun came to that opinion when he heard of the scene on thebeach, and of the absolute certainty that the contraband goods hadbeen procured at Mrs. Schnetterling's. Before his visit was over, anote came down on gold-edged, cyphered pink paper, informing theReverend E. C. Underwood that Mrs. Campbell was much obliged to himfor his attention to her son, who was very unwell, entirely from theeffects of clotted cream. And while they were still laughing overthe scored words, Anna knocked at the door with a message from heraunt, to ask whether they could come and speak to poor Mrs. Edgar, who was in a dreadful state. 

"It is not about Adrian, I hope?" said she. 

"Oh no, no, my dear; Adrian is all right, thanks to Fergus again, "said her uncle. "He is the boy's great protector; I only wish theycould be always together. "

Poor Mrs. Edgar! Rumours had not been slow in reaching her of thecondition in which her scholars had been found, very odd rumours too. One that James Campbell had been brought home insensible, and the twosailors carried on board in the like state; and an opposite report, that the poor dear boys had only made themselves sick with daintiesout of Mrs. Schnetterling's, and it was all a cruel notion of thatteetotal ritualist clergyman. Some boys would not speak, others werevague and contradictory, and many knew nothing, Horner and Campbellwere absent. Clement much relieved her by giving an account of thematter, and declaring that he feared his own elder nephew was thecause of all the scandal, though he believed that some of her biggerpupils were guilty of obtaining a smaller quantity, knowingly, of theSchnetterling's illicit wares, chiefly so far for the fun of doingsomething forbidden—-"Stolen waters are sweet. "

"A wicked woman! Surely she should not be allowed to go on. "

"I am going, on the spot, to see what can be done, " said GeneralMohun; "but indeed I should have thought young Campbell rather tooold for your precincts. "

"Ah! yes. He is troublesome, but he is so backward, and is sodelicate, that his mother has implored me to keep him on, that he mayhave sea-bathing. But this shall be the final stroke!"

"It will be the ruin of your school otherwise, " said the General. 

"Ah! it might. And yet Mrs. Campbell will never be persuaded of thefact! And she is a person of much influence! However, I cannot havemy poor dear little fellows led astray. "

Then, with some decided praises of dear little Sir Adrian, andregrets at losing Fergus Merrifield, whom she declared, on theauthority of her gentleman assistant, to be certain of success, shedeparted; and Clement resumed his task of writing letters, which hebelieved to be useless, but which he felt to be right--one a gravewarning to Edward Harewood, and one to his father, whose indulgencehe could not but hold accountable. 

Reginald Mohun meanwhile went his way to the officer of InlandRevenue, who already had his suspicions as to Mrs. Schnetterling, andwas glad of positive evidence. He returned with the General to hearfrom Mr. Underwood the condition in which he had found the boys, andthe cause he had for attributing it to the supplies from MotherButterfly, and this was thought sufficient evidence to authorize thesending a constable with a search-warrant to the shop. The twogentlemen were glad that the detection should be possible withouteither sending a spy, or forcing evidence from the boys, who had muchbetter be kept out of the matter altogether. No lack of illicitstores was found when the policemen made their descent, and a summonswas accordingly served on its mistress to appear at the next PettySessions. 

Reginald Mohun, used to the justice of county magistrates, and theunflinching dealings of courts-martial, was determined to see theaffair through, so he went to the magistrates' meeting, and returnedwith the tidings that the possession of smuggled tobacco ready forsale had been proved against Mrs. Schnetterling, and she had beenfined twenty-five pounds, to be paid at the next Petty Sessions. Otherwise goods would be seized to that value, or she would have ashort term of imprisonment. There was no doubt that contrabandspirits were also found, but it was not thought expedient to pressthis charge. 

He said the poor woman had been in a great passion of despair, wringing her hands and weeping demonstratively. 

"Quite theatrical, " he said. "I am sure she has been an actress. "

"It did not prejudice your hard-headed town-councillors in herfavour, " said Gerald. 

"Far from it! In fact old Simmonds observed that she was a paintedforeign Jezebel. "

"Not to her face!" said Gerald. 

"We are not quite brutes, whatever you may think us, my boy, " saidthe General good-humouredly. 

"Well, " said Gerald, in the same tone, "how could I tell how it mightbe when the Philistines conspired to hunt down a poor foreign widowtrying to pick up a scanty livelihood ?"

"If the poor foreign widow had been content without corrupting theboys, " said Clement, "she would have been let alone. "

"It was not for corrupting the boys. That was done-—or not done—-bymy amiable cousin Ted. What harm did her 'baccy do to living soul?"

"It is a risky thing, to say the least of it, for a living soul todefraud the revenue, " said Clement. 

"Of which probably she never heard. "

"She must have seen the terms of her licence, " said the General. 

"Aye, a way of increasing the revenue by burthens on the chief solaceof poverty, " said Gerald hotly. 

"You'll come to your senses by and by, young man, " imperturbablyanswered the General. 

"Is she likely to be able to pay?" asked Gerald in return. 

"Oh yes, the policeman said she drove a very thriving trade, bothwith the boys and with the sailors, and that there was no doubt thatshe could pay. "

Clement was very glad to hear it, for it not only obviated any senseof harshness in his mind, but he thought Gerald, in his present moodof compassion--or opposition, whichever it was-—capable of offeringto undertake to pay the fine for her. 

Poor little Ludmilla was found the next day by Mrs. Henderson, cryingsoftly over her work at the mosaic department-—work which was onlythe mechanical arrangement from patterns provided, for she had nooriginality, and would never attain to any promotion in theprofession. 

Mrs. Henderson took the poor girl to her own little office, to try tocomfort her, and bring her into condition for the rehearsal of thescene with Ferdinand, which she was to go through in Mr. Flight'sparlour chaperoned by his mother. She was so choked with sobs thatit did not seem probable that she would have any voice; for she hadbeen struggling with her tears all day, and now, in the presence ofher friend, she gave them a free course. She thought it so cruel—-sovery cruel of the gentlemen; how could they do such a thing to a poorhelpless stranger? And that tall one-—to be a clergyman-—how couldhe?

Mrs. Henderson tried to represent that, having accepted the licenceon certain terms, it was wrong to break them; and that the gentlemenmust be right to hinder harm to their nephews. 

It seemed all past the poor girl's understanding, since the nephewshad taken no harm; and indeed the other boys had only touched thespirits by way of joke and doing something forbidden: it had all comeof those horrid young midshipmen, who had come down and worried andbothered her mother into giving them the bottles of spirits which hadnot been mixed. It was very hard. 

"Ah, Lydia, one sin leads no one knows where! Those little boys, think of their first learning the taste for alcohol in secret!"

Lydia did see this, but after all, she said, it was not the spirits, but the tobacco, which the Dutch and American sailors were gladenough to exchange for her mother's commodities. She had neverperceived any harm in the arrangement, and hardly comprehended whenthe saying, "Custom to whom custom, " was pointed out to her. 

Kalliope asked whether the fine would fall heavily on her mother. 

"Oh, that is worst of all. Mother is gone to Avoncester to raise themoney. She won't tell me how. And I do believe O'Leary's circus isthere. "

Then came another sobbing fit. 

"But how-—what do you mean, my dear?"

"O'Leary was our clown when my father-—my dear father-—was alive. He was a coarse horrid man, as cruel to the poor dear horses as hedared. And now he has set up for himself, and has been going aboutall over the county. Mother has been quite different ever since shemet him one day in Avoncester, and I fear-—oh, I fear he will advanceher this money, and make her give me up to him; and my dear fathermade her promise that I would never be on the boards. "

This was in an agony of crying, and it appeared that Schnetterlinghad really been a very decent, amiable person, who had beenpassionately fond of his little daughter. Her recollection datedfrom the time when the family had come from America, and he hadbecome partner in a circus, intending to collect means enough toretire to a home in Germany, but he had died five years ago, atAvoncester, of fever, and his wife had used his savings to set upthis little shop at Rockquay, choosing that place because it was theresort of foreign trading-vessels, with whom her knowledge oflanguages would be available. She had suffered from the sameillness, and her voice had been affected at the time, and she wasaltogether subdued and altered, and had allowed her daughter toreceive a good National school training; but with the recovery ofhealth, activity, and voice, a new temper, or rather the old onerenewed, had seized her, and since she had met her former companion, Ludmilla foreboded that the impulse of wandering had come upon her, and that if the interference of the authorities pressed upon her andendangered her traffic, she would throw it up altogether, and dragher daughter into the profession so dreadful to all the poor child'sfeelings. 

No wonder that the girl cried till she had no voice, and took butpartial comfort from repeated assurances that her friends would dotheir utmost on her behalf. Mrs. Henderson tried to compose andcheer her, walking with her herself to St. Kenelm's Parsonage, andtrying to keep up her earnest desire to please Mr. Flight, thespecial object of her veneration. But wishes were ineffectual toprevent her from breaking down in the first line of her first song, and when Mr. Flight blamed, and Lady Flight turned round on themusic-stool to say severely—-"Command yourself, Lydia, " she becamealmost hysterical. 

"Wait a minute, " said Gerald. "Give her a glass of wine, and shewill be better. "

"Oh no, no; please, I'm temp—-" and a sob. 

The five o'clock tea was still standing on a little table, and Geraldpoured out a cup and took it to her, then set her down in an arm-chair, and said—-

"I'll go through Angus' part, and she will be better, " and as shetried to say "Thank you, " and "So kind, " he held up his hand, andtold her to be silent. In fact, his encouragement, and the littledelay he had made, enabled her to recover herself enough to getthrough her part, though nothing like as well as would have beenexpected of her. 

"Never mind, " said Gerald, "she will be all right when my unclecomes. Won't you, Mona?"

"I should have expected-—" began Lady Flight. 

Gerald held up his hand in entreaty. 

"People's voices can't be always the same, " he said cheerily. "Iknow our Mona will do us credit yet! Won't you, Mona? You know howto pity me with my logs!"

"You had better go and have some tea in the kitchen, Lydia, " saidLady Flight repressively; and Ludmilla curtsied herself off, with alook of gratitude out of her swollen eyelids at Gerald. 

"Poor little mortal, " he said, as she went. "I am afraid that in hercase summum jus was summa injuria. "

"It was quite right to prosecute that mischievous woman, " said Mr. Flight. 

"Maybe, " said Gerald; "but wheat will grow alongside of tares. "

"I hope the girl is wheat, " half ironically and severely said thelady. 

Gerald shrugged his shoulders and took his leave. 

CHAPTER XVI. "SEE, THE CONQUERING HERO COMES"

And with trumpets and with bannersAs becomes gintale good manners. -—THACKERAY. 

A telegram from Sir Jasper brought the good news that Fergus's namewas high on the Winchester roll, and that he was sure of enteringcollege after the holidays. Gillian alone was allowed to go up tothe station with her uncle Reginald to meet the travellers, lest thewhole family should be too demonstrative in their welcome. And atthe same time there emerged from the train not only Captain Armytage, but also Lancelot Underwood and his little boy. All the rest of hisfamily were gone to Stoneborough to delight the hearts of Dr. May andhis daughter Ethel. 

Gillian was in such training that she durst not embrace her brotherwhen he tumbled out of the carriage, though she could hardly keep herfeet from dancing, but she only demurely said—-

"Mamma and all of them are at Aunt Jane's. "

"Come then, " said Sir Jasper to Captain Armytage, for which Gillianwas not grateful, or thought herself not, for she made a wry face. 

There was a good deal of luggage-—theatrical appliances to be sent tothe pavilion. 

"This may as well go too, " said Captain Armytage. 

"Oh! oh! It is the buccaneer's sword!" cried little Felix. "Howlovely! Last time we only had Uncle Jack's, and this is ever so muchlonger!"

"Do let me draw it!" cried Fergus. 

"Not here, my boy, or they would think a conspiracy was breaking out. Ha!" as a sudden blare of trumpets broke out as they reached thestation gate. 

"Oh, is it for him?" cried Felix, who had been instructed in Fergus'striumph. 

 "See, the conquering hero comes, Sound the trumpets, beat the drums!"

said the General. 

Fergus actually coloured crimson, but the colour was deepened as hemuttered "Bosh!" while two piebald ponies, drawing the drummers andtrumpeters in fantastic raiment, preceded an elephant shrouded inscarlet and gold trappings, with two or three figures makingcontortions on his back, and followed by a crowned and sceptred damein blue, white, and gold, perched aloft on a car drawn by four steedsin glittering caparisons. 

"Will you mount it, Fergus?" asked his uncle. "You did not expectsuch a demonstration. "

Fergus bit his lip. It was hard to be teased instead of exalted; butFely and he were absorbed in the pink broadsides that the lady in thecar was scattering. 

 CIRCUS-—THIS NIGHT-—ROTHERWOOD PARK. 

 The Sepoy's Revenge! Thrilling Incidents! Sagacious Elephant! Dance of Arab Coursers!! Acrobatic Feats!! &c. , &c. 

"Oh, daddy! daddy! do take me to see it!"

"Father, I should like to see it very much indeed, " were theexclamations of the two little boys. "You know I have never seen anyacrobatic feats. "

"A long word enough to please you, " said Uncle Reginald. "Hedeserves something. I'll take you, master. "

"I should think this was not of the first quality, " said Sir Jasper. 

"Never mind. Novelty is the charm that one can have only once inone's life, " said the General. 

"Some of those van fellows are very decent folk, " said Lancelot. "Ihave seen a great deal of them at Bexley Fair times. You would beastonished to know how grateful they are for a little treatment as ifthey were not out of humanity's reach. "

Gillian was trying to make Fergus tell her what his questions hadbeen, and how he had answered them. 

"I declare, Gill, you are as bad as some of the boys' horridgovernors. There was one whose father walked him up and down andwouldn't let him play cricket, and went over all the old questionswith him. I should never have got in, if papa hadn't had more sensethan to badger me out of my life. "

At the gate between the copper beeches the Underwoods and Merrifieldsparted, with an engagement to meet at the circus on the part of theboys and their conductors. 

Fergus was greeted with open-mouthed, open-armed delight by all theassembled multitude, very little checked by the presence of CaptainArmytage. Only Lady Merrifield did not say much, but there was a dewin her eyes as she held fast the little active fingers, andwhispered—-

"My good industrious boy. "

Sir Jasper, in his grand and gracious manner, turned to his sister-in-law, saying—-

"We could not but come first to you, Jane, for it is to you that heis indebted, as we all are, primarily for his success. "

"That is the greatest compliment I ever had, Jasper, " she answered, smiling but almost tearful, and laughing it off. "I feel ready tomount yonder elephant lady's triumphal car. "

The General refrained from any more teasing of Fergus on his firstimpression; and at seven that evening the younger Merrifield boyswith their uncle, and the two from St. Andrew's Rock with Lance, setoff in high spirits. 

They re-appeared much sooner than they were expected at BeechcroftCottage, where the Underwoods were spending the long twilightevening. 

"A low concern!" was the General's verdict. 

"We fled simultaneously from the concluding ballet, " said Lance. "There had been quite as much as we could bear for ingenuous youth. "

"We stood the Sepoy's Death Song, ' said the General, "but the posterof the Bleeding Bride was enough for us. "

"They had only one elephant!" cried Adrian. 

"A regular swindle, " said Wilfred. 

"No lions!" added Fely, "nothing to see but that poor old elephant!I wish he would have turned round and spouted water at them, as thatone did to the tailor. "

"Water would be uncommonly good for them, " said the General, laughing, "they are not much acquainted therewith. "

"And such an atmosphere!" said Lance. 

"I see it on your forehead, poor boy, " said Geraldine. 

"I should like to set on the Society against cruelty to animals, "said the General; "I saw galls on the horses' necks, and they wereall half starved. "

"Then to see the poor old elephant pretend to be drunk!" addedFergus, "stagger about, and led off by the policeman, drunk anddisorderly!"

"Was that being drunk?" asked Adrian, with wide-open eyes. "It waslike Campbell that day. " Everybody laughed. 

Wilfred did so now. 

"You green kid, you. "

"Happy verdure, " said the General, "to be unaware that some peoplecan laugh when they ought to weep. "

"Weep!" exclaimed Wilfred, "every time one sees a fellow screwy inthe street. "

"Perhaps the angels do, " murmured Clement. 

"Come, Master Wilfred, you have expressed your opinions sufficientlyto-night, " said the General. "Suppose you and Fergus walk hometogether. A nasty low place as ever I saw. I have a mind to tellthe Mayor about it. "

Gerald said—-

"Is not that making yourself very unpopular?"

"That is no great matter, " said the General, rather surprised. 

"I should have thought it better to refine the people's tastes thanto thwart their present ones. "

"The improper must be stopped before the taste for the proper can bepromoted, " said Clement. 

"With all the opposition and ill-blood that you cause?" said Gerald. "Why, if I were an errand-boy, the suppression would send me directto the circus. Would it not do the same by you, Uncle Lance?"

"Discouragement might, prohibition would prevent wholly, and I shouldbe thankful, " said Lance. 

"Ah! you are of the old loyal nature, " said Gerald. "You of the oldschool can never see things by modern lights. "

"I am thankful to say-—not, " responded Reginald Mohun, in a tone thatmade some laugh, and Gerald sigh in Anna's ear—-

"Happy those who see only one side of a question. "

There was another great day for the boys, namely, the speech orclosing day at the school, when Fergus was the undoubted hero, andwas so exalted that his parents thought it would be very bad for him, and were chiefly consoled by his strong and genuine dislike to havingto declaim with Clement Varley the quarrel of Brutus and Cassius. Heinsisted on always calling the former "Old Brute, " and all theefforts of mother and aunt never got him beyond the dogged repetitionof a lesson learnt by heart, whereas little Varley threw himself intothe part with spirit that gained all the applause. Fergus carriedoff a pile of prizes too, but despised them. "Stupid old poetry!"said he, "what should I do with that? Do let me change it, father, for the Handbook of Paleontology, or something worth having. "

Adrian had three prizes too, filling Anna with infinite delight. Hewas not to go home immediately on the break-up of the school, but wasto wait for his sisters, who were coming in a few days more with LadyTravis Underwood to the bazaar and masque, so that he would go homewith them. 

Neither the prospect nor the company of little Fely greatlyreconciled him to the delay, but his mother could not believe thather darling could travel alone, and his only satisfaction was inhelping Fergus to arrange his spare specimens for sale. 

CHAPTER XVII. EXCLUDED

But I needn't tell you what to do, only do it out of hand, And charge whatever you like to charge, my lady won't make a stand. -—T. HOOD. 

The ladies' committee could not but meet over and over again, wandering about the gardens, which were now trimmed into order, toplace the stalls and decide on what should and should not be. 

There was to be an art stall, over which Mrs. Henderson was topreside. Here were to be the very graceful and beautiful articles ofsculpture and Italian bijouterie that the Whites had sent home, andthat were spared from the marble works; also Mrs. Grinstead'sdrawings, Captain Henderson's, those of others, screens and scrap-books and photographs. Jasper and a coadjutor or two undertook tophotograph any one who wished it; and there too were displayed theMouse-traps. Mrs. Henderson, sure to look beautiful, quite Madonna-like in her costume, would have the charge of the stall, with Gillianand two other girls, in Italian peasant-dresses, sent home by AuntAda. 

Gillian was resolved on standing by her. "Kalliope wants some one togive her courage, " she said. "Besides, I am the mother of the Mouse-trap, and I must see how it goes off. "

Lady Flight and a bevy of young ladies of her selection were topreside over the flowers; Mrs. Yarley undertook the refreshments;Lady Merrifield the more ordinary bazaar stall. Her name was prized, and Anna was glad to shelter herself under her wing. The care ofValetta and Primrose, to say nothing of Dolores, was enoughinducement to overcome any reluctance, and she was glad to be on thecommittee when vexed questions came on, such as Miss Pettifer's offerof a skirt-dance, which could not be so summarily dismissed as it hadbeen at Beechcroft, for Lady Flight and Mrs. Varley wished for it, and even Mrs. Harper was ready to endure anything to raise the much-needed money, and almost thought Lady Merrifield too particular whenshe discontinued the dancing-class for Valetta and Primrose. 

"That speaks for itself, " said Mrs. Grinstead. 

"I can fancy seeing no harm in it for little girls, " said LadyMerrifield, "but I don't like giving them a talent the use of whichseems to be to enable them to show off. "

"And I know that Lady Rotherwood would not approve, " said Miss Mohun, aware that this settled the matter. "And here's another outsider, Miss Penfeather, who offers to interpret handwriting at two-and-sixpence a head. "

"By all means, " was the cry. "We will build her a bower somewherenear the photography. "

"I am only afraid, " added Jane, "of her offering to do palmistry. Do you know, I dabbled a little in that once, and I came to theconclusion that it was not a safe study for oneself or any one else. "

"Quite right, " said Geraldine. 

"Do you believe in it then?"

"Not so as to practise it, or accept it so far as the future isconcerned, and to play at it as a parody of fortune-telling seems tome utterly inadmissible. "

"And to be squashed with Lord Rotherwood's mighty name, " said hersister, laughing. 

Lady Rotherwood would do so effectively. Wherewith came on thequestion of raffles, an inexhaustible one, since some maintained thatthey were contrary to English law, and were absolutely immoral, whileothers held that it was the only way of disposing of really expensivearticles. These were two statues sent by Mrs. White, and anexquisite little picture by Mrs. Grinstead, worth more than any onecould be expected to give. It was one that she had nearly finishedat the time of Mr. Grinstead's illness-—John Inglesant arriving inhis armour of light on his wedding morning-—and the associations wereso painful that she said she never wished to see it again. 

There were likewise a good many charming sketches of figures andscenery, over which Gerald and Anna grieved, though she had let themkeep all they could show cause for; but drawing had become as muchher resource as in the good old days. She was always throwing offlittle outlines, and she had even begun a grand study, which shecalled "Safe Home, " a vessel showing signs of storm and struggle justat the verge of a harbour lost in golden light. 

And the helmsman's face?

Clement and Lance neither of them said in words whose it was, as theyboth stood looking at it, and owned to themselves the steadfast faceof their eldest brother, but Clement said, with a sigh—-

"Ah! we are a long way as yet from that. "

"I'm very glad to hear you say so, " exclaimed Lance; then laughing athimself, "You are ever so much better. "

"Oh yes, I suppose I am to start again, going softly all my days, perhaps, and it is well, for I don't think the young generation canspare me yet. "

"Nor Cherry. "

"How thankful I am to have Cherry restored to me I cannot say, and Ido not feel convinced that there may not be care at hand with Gerald. The boy is in a reserved mood, very civil and amiable, but clearlyholding back from confidence. "

"Does she see it?"

"Yes; but she fancies he bestows his confidence on Dolores Mohun, thegirl from New Zealand, and resigns herself to be set aside. It ispretty well time that we went to meet her. "

For there was to be a dress rehearsal in the pavilion, to whichcertain spectators were to be admitted, chiefly as critics. 

"Do you walk up the hill, Clem?"

"Yes, as long as I don't go too fast. Go on if you are wanted, and Iwill follow. Cherry has sent the carriage for an invalid who cannotventure to be there all the day. "

"Let them wait. A walk with you is not to be wasted. Run on, Fely, tell them we are coming, " he added to his little Ariel, who had gotlost in Jungle Beasts. 

As they went up the hill together, Clement not sorry to lean on hisbrother's arm, a dark woman of striking figure and countenance, though far from young, came up with them, accompanied by a stout, over-dressed man. 

"That's the cigar-shop woman, " said Lance, "the mother of our prettylittle Miranda. "

"I wonder she chooses to show herself after her conviction, " saidClement. 

"And if I am not much mistaken, that is the villain of The Sepoy'sRevenge, " said Lance. "Poor little Butterfly, it is a bad omen forher future fate. "

As they reached the doors of the great hotel, they found the pair inaltercation with the porter before the iron gate that gave admittanceto the gardens. "Mother Butterfly" was pleading that she was themother of Miss Schnetterling, who was singing, and the porterreplying that his orders were strict. 

"No, not on any consideration, " he repeated, as the man was evidentlyshowing him the glance of silver, and a policeman, who was marchingabout, showed signs of meaning to interfere. 

At the same moment Gerald's quick steps came up from the inside. 

"That's right, Lance; every one is crying out for you. Vicar, Cherieis keeping a capital place for you. "

The gate opened to admit them, and therewith Mrs. Schnetterling, trying to push in, made a vehement appeal—-

"Mr. Underwood, sir, surely the prima donna's own mother should notbe excluded. "

"Her mother!" said Gerald. "Well, perhaps so, but hardly this-—person, " as his native fastidiousness rose at the sight. 

"No, sir, " said the porter. "Captain Henderson and Mr. Simmonds, theyhave specially cautioned me who I lets in. "

The man grumbled something about swells and insolence, and Lance, with his usual instinct of courtesy, lingered to say—-

"This is quite a private rehearsal-—only the persons concerned!"

"And if I'm come on business, " said the man confidentially. "You aresomething in our line. "

"Scarcely, " said Lance, rather amused. "At any rate, I don't makethe regulations. "

He sped away at the summons of his impatient son and Gerald. 

They met Captain Henderson on the way, and after a hasty greeting, hesaid—-

"So you have let in the Schnetterling woman?"

"One could not well keep out the mother, " returned Lance. 

"Well, no, but did she bring a man with her? My wife says the poorlittle Mona is in mortal terror lest he is come to inspect her for acircus company. "

"Quite according to his looks, " said Lance. "Poor child, it may beher fate, but she ought to be in safe hands, but I suppose the womanwants to sacrifice her to present gain. "

They went on their way, and Lance and Gerald were soon absorbed intheir cares of arrangement, while Clement was conducted to the seatreserved for him between his sister and Lady Merrifield. Thepavilion had been fitted with stages of seats on the inner side, butthe back-—behind the stage-—was so contrived that in case offavourable weather the real sea-view could be let in upon occasion, though the curtain and adjuncts, which had been painted by some ofthe deft fingers at Vale Leston, represented the cavern; also therewas a first scene, with a real sail and mast. 

It was a kind of semi-dress rehearsal, beginning with pirate songs bythe school-master and choir, who had little difficulty in arrangingthemselves as buccaneers. The sail was agitated, then reefed, stormysongs were heard, where Captain Armytage did his part fairly well;the boatswain was gratified by roaring out his part character-istically, and the curtain fell on "We split, we split, we split. "

Then came a song of Prospero, not much disguised by a plaid andHighland bonnet, interrupted by the pretty, graceful Miranda, veryshy and ill-assured at first, but gathering strength from his gentleencouraging ways, while he told what was needful in the recitativethat he alone could undertake. Then the elves and fairies, led bylittle Felix, in a charming cap like Puck, danced on and sang, makingthe prettiest of tableaux, lulling Miranda to sleep, and then Arielconversing in a most dainty manner with Prospero. 

Next Ferdinand and Miranda had their scene, almost all songs andduets. Both sang very sweetly, and she had evidently gained incourage, and threw herself into her part. 

The shipwrecked party then came on the scene, performed their songs, and were led about Puck-fashion by the fairies, and put to sleep bythe lament over Ferdinand. The buccaneers in like manner weredeluded by more mischievous songs and antics, till bogged and cryingout behind the scenes. 

Their intended victims were then awakened, to find themselves in thepresence of Prospero; sing themselves into the reconciliation, thenmourn for Ferdinand, until the disclosure of the two lovers, and thefinal release of Ariel and the sprites, all singing Jacobite songs. 

To those who were not au fait with the 'Tempest' and felt noindignation or jealousy at the travesty, it was charming; and thoughthe audience at the rehearsal numbered few of these, the refinedsweetness and power of the performers made it delightful andmemorable. Every one was in raptures with the fairies, who had beenbeautifully drilled, and above all with their graceful little leader, with his twinkling feet and arch lively manner, especially in theparts with his father. 

Ferdinand and Miranda-—or rather Angus and Mona—-were quite ideal inlooks, voices, and gestures. 

"Almost dangerously so, " said Jane Mohun; "and the odd thing is thatthey are just alike enough for first cousins, as they are here, though Shakespeare was not guilty of making them such. "

"The odd thing is, " said Geraldine, as she drove home with Clement, "that this brought me back so strangely to that wonderful concert athome, with all of you standing up in a row, and the choir fromMinsterham, and poor Edgar's star. "

"An evil star!" sighed Clement. 

CHAPTER XVIII. THE EVIL STAR

 Lancelot said, That were against me, what I can I will;And there that day remained. -—TENNYSON. 

It was on the night before the final bustle and fury, so to speak, ofpreparation were to set in, when arrivals were expected, and thesellers were in commotion, and he had been all day putting thesingers one by one through their parts, that as he went to his roomat night, there was a knock at Lancelot's door, and Gerald came in, looking deadly white. He had been silent and effaced all theevening, and his aunt had thought him tired, but he had ratherpetulantly eluded inquiry, and now he came in with—-

"Lance, I must have it out with some one. "

"An Oxford scrape?" said Lance. 

"Oh no, I wish it was only that. " Then a silence, while Lance lookedat him, thinking, "What trouble could it be?" He had been very kindand gentle with the little Miranda, but the manner had not struckLance as lover-like. 

There was a gasp again—-

"That person, that woman at the gate, do you remember?"

Therewith a flash came over Lance. 

"My poor boy! You don't mean to say--"

Neither could bring himself to say the word so sacred to Lancelot, and which might have been so sacred to his nephew. 

"How did you guess?" said Gerald, lifting up the face that he hadhidden on the table. 

"I saw the likeness between you and the girl. She reminded me ofsome one I had once seen. "

"Had you seen her?"

"Once, at a concert, twenty odd years ago. Your aunt, too, wasstrangely carried back to that scene, by the girl's voice, Isuppose. "

"Poor child!" said Gerald, still laying down his head and seemingterribly oppressed, as Lance felt he well might be. 

"It is a sad business for you, " said the uncle, with a kind hand onhis shoulder. "How was it she did not claim you before?-—not thatshe has any real claim. "

"She did not know my real name. My father called himself Wood. Inever knew the rest of it till after I came home. That fellow bribedthe gardener, got in over the wall, or somehow, and when she saw you, and heard you and me and all three of us, it gave her the clue. "

"Well, Gerald, I do not think she can dare to--"

"Oh!" interrupted Gerald, "there's worse to come. "

"What?" said Lance, aghast. 

"She says, " and a sort of dry sob cut him short, "she says she had ahusband when she married my father, " and down went his head again. 

"Impossible, " was Lance's first cry; "your father's first care was totell Travis all was right with you. Travis has the certificates. "

"Oh yes, it was no fault of my father-—my father, my dear father-—no, but she deceived him, and I am an impostor-—nobody. "

"Gently, gently, Gerald. We have no certainty that this is true. Your father had known her for years. Tell me, how did it come out—-what evidence did she adduce?"

Gerald nerved himself to sit up and speak collectedly. 

"I believe it is half that circus fellow's doing. I think she isgoing to marry him, if she hasn't already. She followed me, and justat the turn down this road, as I was bidding the Mona girl goodnight, she came up with me, and said I little thought that the child was mysister, and how delightful it was to see us acting together. Wellthen, I can't say but a horror came over me. I couldn't for the lifeof me do anything but draw back, there was something so intolerablein the look of her eyes, and her caressing manner, " and he shuddered, glad of his uncle's kind hand on his shoulder. "Somehow, I let herget me out upon the high ground, and there she said, 'So you are toogreat a swell to have word or look for your mother. No wonder, youalways were un vilain petit miserable; but I won't trouble you-—Iwouldn't be bound to live your dull ennuyant ladies' life formillions. I'll bargain to keep out of your way; but O'Leary and Iwant a couple of hundred pounds, and you'll not grudge it to us. ' Ihad no notion of being blackmailed, besides I haven't got it, and Itold her she might know that I am not of age, and had no such sumready to hand. She was urgent, and I began to think whether I coulddo anything to save that poor little sister, when she evidently gotsome fresh impulse from the man, and began to ask me how I shouldlike to have it all disclosed to my nobs of friends. Well, I wasn'tgoing to be bullied, and I answered that my friends knew already, andshe might do her worst. 'Oh, may I?' she said; 'you wouldn't like, my fine young squire, to have it come out that I never was yourfather's wife at all, and that you are no more than that gutter-child. ' I could not understand her at first, and said I would not bethreatened, but that made her worse, and that rascal O'Leary came toher help. They raised their demands somehow to five hundred, anddeclared if they had not it paid down, they should tell the wholestory and turn me out. Of course I said they were welcome. Either Iam my father's lawful son, or I am not, and if not, the sooner it isall up with me the better, for whatever I am, I am no thief androbber. So I set off and came down the hill; but the brute kept pacewith me to this very door, trying to wheedle me, I believe. And nowwhat's to be done? I would go off at once, and let Uncle Clem comeinto his rights, only I don't want to be the death of him andCherie. "

"No, " said Lance, "my dear fellow! You have stood it wisely andbravely so far, go on to do so. I don't feel the least certain thatthis is not mere bullying. She did not tell you any particulars?"

"No, certainly not. "

"Not the name of this supposed predecessor of Edgar's? Where she mayhave been married, or how? How she parted from him, or how she knowshe was alive? It sounds to me a bogus notion, got up to put thescrew on you, by surprise. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll go downto the shop tomorrow morning, see the woman, and extract the truth ifpossible, and I fully expect that the story will shrink up tonothing. "

"'Tis not the estate I care for, " said Gerald, looking somewhatcheered. "It is my father's honour and name. If that can becleared—-"

"Do not I care?" said Lance. "My dear brother Edgar, my model of allthat was noble and brilliant-—whom Felix loved above all! Nay, andyou, Gerald, our hope! I would give anything and everything to freeyou from this stain, though I trust it will prove only mud that willnot stick. Anyway you have shown your true, faithful Underwoodblood. Now go to bed and sleep if you can. Don't say a word, norlook more like a ghost than you can help—-or we shall have to rougeourselves for our parts. My boy, my boy! You are Edgar's boy, anyway. "

And Lancelot kissed the young pale cheek as he had done when thelittle wounded orphan clung to him fourteen years ago, or as hekissed his own Felix. 

Whatever the night was to Gerald, long was the night, and long thelight hours of the morning to the ever sleepless Lance before hecould rise and make his way to the shop with any hope of gainingadmission, and many were the sighs and prayers that this tale mightbe confuted, and that the matter might be to the blessing of theyouth to whom he felt more warmly now than since those winning babydays had given place to more ordinary boyhood. He had a long time topace up and down watching the sparkling water, and feeling the freshwind on the brow, which was as capable as ever of aching over troubleand perplexity, and dreading above all the effect on the sister, whose consolation and darling Gerald had always been. How little hehad thought, when he had stood staunch against his brother Edgar'spersuasions, that Zoraya was to be the bane of that life which hadbegun so gaily!

When at last the door was unfastened, and, as before, by Ludmilla, hegreeted her kindly, and as she evidently expected some fresh ideaabout the masque, he gave her his card, and asked her to beg hermother to come and speak to him. She started at the name and said—-

"Oh, sir, you will do nothing to hurt him-—Mr. Underwood?"

"It is the last thing I wish, " he said earnestly, and Ludmilla showedhim into a little parlour, full of the fumes of tobacco, and spedaway, but he had a long time to wait, for probably Mother Butterfly'sentire toilette had to be taken in hand. 

Before she appeared Lancelot heard a man's voice, somewhere in theentry, saying—-

"Oh! the young ass has been fool enough to let it out, has he? Isuppose this is the chap that will profit? You'll have your witsabout you. "

Lance was still his old self enough to receive the lady with—-

"I beg to observe that I am not the 'chap who will profit' if thismiserable allegation holds water. I am come to understand thetruth. "

The woman looked frightened, and the man came to her rescue, havingevidently heard, and this Lance preferred, for he always liked todeal with mankind rather than womankind. Having gone so far therewas not room for reticence, and the man took up the word. 

"Madame cannot be expected to disclose anything to the prejudice ofher son and herself, unless it was made worth her while. "

"Perhaps not, " said Lance, as he looked her over in irony, and drewthe conclusion that the marriage was a fact accomplished; "but shehas demanded two hundred pounds from her son, on peril of exposure, and if the facts are not substantiated, there is such a thing as anaction for conspiracy, and obtaining money on false pretences. "

"Nothing has been obtained!" said the woman, beginning to cry. "Hewas very hard on his poor mother. "

"Who forsook him as an infant, cast off his father, and only claimshim in order to keep a disgraceful, ruinous secret hanging over hislife for ever, in order to extort money. "

"Come now, this is tall talk, sir, " said O'Leary; "the long and shortof it is, what will the cove, yourself, or whoever it is that youspeak for, come down for one way or another?"

"Nothing, " responded Lance. 

Neither of the estimable couple spoke or moved under an announcementso incredible to them, and he went on—-

"Gerald Underwood would rather lose everything than give hush-moneyto enable him to be a robber, and my elder brother would certainlygive no reward for what would be the greatest grief in his life. "

O'Leary grinned as if he wanted to say, "Have you asked him?"

"The priest, " she muttered. 

"Ay, the meddling parson who has done for you! He would have to comedown pretty handsomely. "

Lancelot went on as if he had not heard these asides. 

"I am a magistrate; I can give you in charge at once to the police, and have you brought before the Mayor for conspiracy, when you willhave to prove your words, or confess them to be a lie. "

He was not in the least certain that where there was no threateningletter, this could succeed, but he knew that the preliminaries wouldbe alarming enough to elicit something, and accordingly Mrs. O'Learybegan to sob out—-

"It was when I was a mere child, a bambina, and he used me socruelly. "

There was the first thread, and on the whole, the couple were angryenough with Gerald, his refined appearance and air of carelessprosperity, to be willing that he should have a fall, and Lance thusextracted that the "he" who had been cruel was a Neapolitanimpresario in a small way, who had detected that Zoraya, when a verylittle child, had a charming voice, of which indeed she still spokewith pride, saying Lida would never equal it. Her parents were semi-gipsies, Hungarian, and had wandered all over the Austrian empire, acting, singing, and bringing up their children to the like. Theyhad actually sold her to the impresario, who had sealed the compact, and hoped to secure the valuable commodity by making her his wife. In his security he had trained her in the severest mode, and visitedthe smallest want of success with violence and harshness, so that herlife was utterly miserable, and on meeting her brother, who hadbecome a member of a German band, she had contrived to make herescape with him, and having really considerable proficiency, thebrother and sister had prospered, and through sundry vicissitudes hadarrived at being "stars" in Allen's troupe, where Edgar Underwood, or, as he was there known, Tom Wood, had unfortunately joined them;and the sequel was known to Lancelot, but he could not but listen andgather up the details, disgusted as he was-—how the prima donna hadaccepted his attention as her right, till her jealousy was excited byhis evident attraction to "the little English doll, for whom hekilled his man"; how she resolved to win him, and how scandalousreports at last had brought him to offer marriage, unknowing, it wasplain, of her past. It was not possible to guess how much she wasstill keeping back, speaking under terror and compulsion as she did. But she declared that he had never loved her, and was always wantingher to be like ces Anglaises fades, and as to her child, he sotormented her about it, and the ways of his absurd mother andsisters, and so expected her to sacrifice her art and her prospectsto the little wretch, that she was ready to strangle it! "Maternallove, bah! she was not going to be like a bird or a beast, " she said, with a strange wild glance in her eyes that made Lance shudder, andthink how much more he respected the bird or beast. Then at Chicago, when Wood's own folly and imprudence had brought on an illness thatdestroyed his voice, and she knew there would be only starvation, orshe should have to toil for the whole of them, Schnetterling, managerof a circus, fell in love with her, and made her good offers to singin Canada, and Chicago was a place where few questions were asked, soshe freed herself. 

She had made her rounds with Schnetterling, a prudent German, and inprocess of time had come to England, where, at Avoncester, both hadbeen attacked by influenza; he died, and she only recovered with atotal loss of voice; but he had been prudent and frugal enough tosave a sufficient sum to set her up at Rockquay with the tobacco-shop. She had chosen that place on account of American trading-vessels putting in there, as well as those of various foreignnations, with whom her knowledge of languages was available, and nodoubt there were some opportunities of dealing in smuggled goods. Just, however, as the smuggling was beginning to be suspected, thecircus of O'Leary came in her way, and the old instincts wererenewed. Then came the detection and prosecution, and the need ofraising the fine. She had recourse to O'Leary, who had before beenSchnetterling's underling, and now was a partner in Jellicoe'scircus, who knew her capabilities as a manager and actress, andperceived the probabilities of poor little Lida's powers. Thediscovery that the deserted baby that she had left at Chicago was ayoung handsome squire, well connected, and, in her eyes, of unlimitedmeans, had of course incited both to make the utmost profit of him. That he should not wish to hush the suspicion up, but should gostraight to his uncles, was to them a quite unexpected contingency. 

All this was not exactly told to Lancelot, but he extracted it, orgathered it before he was able to arrive at what was reallyimportant, the name of Zoraya's first husband, where she was married, and by whom, and where she had parted from him. She was so unwillingto give particulars that he began almost to hope to make her confessthat the whole was a myth, but at last she owned that the man's namewas Giovanni Benista, and that the marriage had taken place atMessina; she knew not in what church, nor in what year, only it wasbefore the end of the old regime, for she recollected the uniforms ofthe Bomba soldiers, though she could not remember the name of thepriest. Benista was old, very old—-the tyrant and assassin that hewas, no doubt he was dead. She often thought he would have killedher—-and the history of his ill-treatment had to be gone throughbefore it appeared that she had fled from him at Trieste with herbrother, in an English trading-vessel, where their dexterity andbrilliancy gained them concealment and a passage. This was certainlyin the summer of 1865. Of Benista she knew nothing since, but shebelieved him to have come from Piedmont. 

Lance found Gerald walking up and down anxiously watching for him, and receiving him with a "Well!" that had in it volumes of suspense. 

"Well, Gerald, I do not think there can be any blame attached to yourfather, whatever comes of it. He was deceived as much as any oneelse, and his attachment to you seems to have been his greatoffence. "

"Thank Heaven! Then he was deceived?"

"I am afraid there was some previous ceremony. But stay, Gerald!There is no certainty that it was valid in the first place, and inthe next, nothing is known of Benista since 1865, when he was an oldman, so that there is a full chance that he was dead before-—"

"Before April 1868. I say, Uncle Lance, they want to make no end ofa bear-fight for my coming of age. I must be out of the way first. "

"Don't cry out too soon. Even if the worst came to the worst, as theproperty was left to you by will individually, I doubt whether thisdiscovery, if real, would make any difference in law. I do notknow. "

"But would I take it on those terms? It would be simply defraudingClement, and all of you—-"

"Perhaps, long before, we may be satisfied, " said Lance. "For thepresent, I think nothing can be done but endeavour to ascertain thefacts. "

"One comfort is, " said Gerald, "I have gained a sister. I havewalked with her to the corner of her place-—the marble works, youknow-—and she really is a jolly little thing, quite innocent of allher mother's tricks, thinking Mrs. Henderson the first of humanbeings, except perhaps Flight, the aesthetic parson. I should nothave selected him, you know, but between them they have kept herquite a white sheet-—a Miranda any Ferdinand might be glad to find, and dreading nothing so much as falling into the hands of that awfulbrute. Caliban himself couldn't have been worse! I have promisedher to do what I can to save her-—buy her off—-anything. "

"Poor child, " said Lance. "But, Gerald, nothing of this must be saidthese next few days. We can't put ourselves out of condition forthis same raree-show. "

"I'm sure it's a mere abomination to me, " said Gerald disconsolately. "I can't think why we should be dragged into all this nuisance forwhat is not even our own concern. "

"I'm sure I thought you the rope that dragged me! At any rate muchhigher up on it. "

"Well, I never thought you would respond—-you, who have enough onyour hands at Bexley. "

"One stroke even on the outskirts is a stroke for all the cause. "

"The cause! I don't believe in the cause, whatever it is. What aconcatenation now, that you and I should make fools of ourselves inorder to stave off the establishment of national education, as if wecould, or as if it was worth doing. "

"Then why did you undertake it?"

"Oh, ah! Why, one wants something to do down here, and theMerrifield lot are gone upon it; and I did want to go through thething again, but now it seems all rot. "

"Nevertheless, having pledged ourselves to the performance, we cannotcry off, and the present duty is to pack dull care away, put all thisout of our heads, and regard it as a mere mare's nest as long aspossible, and above all not upset Cherry. Remember, let this turnout as it will, you are yourself still, and her own boy, beloved foryour father's sake, the joy of our dear brother, and her greatcomforter. A wretched mistake can never change that. "

Lance's voice was quivering, and Gerald's face worked. Lance gavehis hand a squeeze, and found voice to say—-

"'Hold thee still in the Lord, and abide patiently upon Him. ' Andmeantime be a man over it. It can be done. I have often had toforget. "

CHAPTER XIX. SHOP-DRESSING

But I can't conceive, in this very hot weather, How I'm ever to bring all these people together. T. HOOD. 

It was not a day when any one could afford to be upset. It waschiefly spent in welcoming arrivals or in rushing about: on the partof Lance and Gerald in freshly rehearsing each performer, insuperintending their stage arrangements, reviewing the dresses, andpreparing for one grand final rehearsal; and in the multifariousoccupations and anxieties, and above all in the music, Gerald didreally forget, or only now and then recollect, that a nightmare washanging on him, and that his little Mona need not shrink from him inmaidenly shyness, but that he might well return her pretty appealinglook of confidence. 

The only quiet place in the town apparently was Clement Underwood'sroom, for even Cherry had been whirled off, at first to arrange herown pictures and drawings; and then her wonderful touch made such adifference in the whole appearance of the stall, and her daintydevices were so graceful and effective, that Gillian and Mysieimplored her to come and tell them what to do with theirs, where theywere struggling with cushions, shawls, and bags, with the somewhatfutile assistance of Mr. Armine Brownlow and Captain Armytage, whenever the latter could be spared from the theatrical arrangements, where, as he said, it was a case of parmi les borgnes—-for his smallexperience with the Wills-of-the-Wisp made him valuable. 

The stalls were each in what was supposed to represent by turns aHighland bothie or a cave. The art stall was a cave, that the back(really a tool-house) might serve the photographers, and the frontwas decorated with handsome bits of rock and spar, even ammonites. Poor Fergus could not recover his horror and contempt when hiscollection of specimens, named and arranged, was very nearly seizedupon to fill up interstices, and he was infinitely indebted to Mrs. Grinstead for finding a place where their scientific merits could beappreciated without letting his dirty stones, as Valetta called them, disturb the general effect. 

"And my fern-gardens! Oh, Mrs. Grinstead, " cried Mysie, "pleasedon't send them away to the flower place which Miss Simmonds and thegardeners are making like a nursery garden! They'll snub my poordear pterises. "

"Certainly we'll make the most of your pterises. Look here. There'san elegant doll, let her lead the family party to survey them. That's right. Oh no, not that giantess! There's a dainty littleDutch lady. "

"Charming. Oh! and here's her boy in a sailor's dress. "

"He is big enough to be her husband, my dear. You had better observeproportions, and put that family nearer the eye. "

"Those dolls!" cried Valetta, "they were our despair. "

"Make them tell a story, don't you see. Where's that fat redcushion?"

"Oh, that cushion! I put it out of sight because it is such amonster. "

"Yes; it is just like brick-dust enlivened by half-boiledcauliflowers! Never mind, it will be all the better background. Now, I saw a majestic lady reposing somewhere. There, let her sitagainst it. Oh, she mustn't flop over. Here, that match-box, is it?I pity the person deluded enough to use it! Prop her up with it. Now then, let us have a presentation of ladies—-she's a governor'swife in the colonies, you see. Never mind costumes, they may bequeer. All that will stand or kneel-—that's right. Those that canonly sit must hide behind, like poor Marie Antoinette's ladies on thegiggling occasion. "

So she went on, full of fun, which made the work doubly delightful tothe girls, who darted about while she put the finishing touches, transforming the draperies from the aspect of a rag-and-bone shop, asJasper had called it, to a wonderful quaint and pretty fairy bower, backed by the Indian scenes sent by Mr. And Mrs. Bernard Underwood, and that other lovely one of Primrose's pasture. There the merrymusical laugh of her youth was to be heard, as General Mohun came outwith Lancelot to make a raid, order the whole party to come and eatluncheon at Beechcroft Cottage, and not let Mrs. Grinstead come outagain. 

"Oh, but I must finish up Bernard's clay costume figures. Look atthe expression of that delightful dollie! I'm sure he is watchingthe khitmutgars. 

 'Above on tallest trees remote Green Ayahs perched alone; And all night long the Mussah moaned In melancholy tone. '

Oh, don't you know Lear's poem? Can't we illustrate it?"

"Cherry, Cherry, you'll be half dead to-morrow. "

"Well, if I am, this is the real fun. I shan't see the destruction. "

Lance had her arm in his grip to take her over the bridge over thewall, when up rushed Kitty Varley. 

"Oh, if Mrs. Grinstead would come and look at our stall and set itright! Miss Vanderkist gave us hopes. "

"Perhaps-—"

"Now, Cherry, don't you know that you are not to be knocked up!There are the Travises going to bring unlimited Vanderkists. "

"Oh yes, I know; but there's renovation in breaths from Vale Leston, and I really am of some use here. " Her voice really had a gay ringin it. "It is such fun too! Where's Gerald?"

"Having a smoke with the buccaneer captain. Oh, Miss Mohun, here'smy sister, so enamoured of the bazaar I could hardly get her in. "

"And oh! she is so clever and delightful. She has made our stall themost enchanting place, " cried Primrose, dancing round. "Mamma, youmust come and have it all explained to you. "

"The very sight is supposed to be worth a shilling extra, " saidGeneral Mohun, while Lady Merrifield and Miss Mohun, takingpossession of her, hoped she was not tired; and Gillian, who had beenwont to consider her as her private property, began to reprove hersisters for having engrossed her while she herself was occupied inhelping the Hendersons with their art stall. 

"The truth is, " said Lance, "that this is my sister's first bazaar, and so dear is the work to the female mind, that she can't help beingsucked into the vortex. "

"Is it really?" demanded Mysie, in a voice that made Mrs. Grinsteadlaugh and say—-

"Such is my woeful lack of experience. "

"We have fallen on a bazaar wherever we went, " said Lady Merrifield. 

"But this is our first grown-up one, mamma, " said Valetta. "Therewas only a sale of work before. "

They all laughed, and Lance said—-

"To Stoneborough they seem like revenues—-at least sales of work, forI can't say I understand the distinction. "

"Recurring brigandages, " said General Mohun. 

"Ah! Uncle Reggie has never forgotten his getting a Noah's ark in araffle, " said Mysie. 

So went the merry talk, while one and another came in at Miss Mohun'sverandah windows to be sustained with food and rest, and then dartedforth again to renew their labours until the evening, Miss Mohunflying about everywhere on all sorts of needs, and her brother theGeneral waiting by the dining-room to do the duties of hospitality tothe strays of the families who dropped in, chattering and laughing, and exhausted. 

Lady Merrifield was authorized to detain Mrs. Grinstead to the lastmoment possible to either, and they fell into a talk on the moralityof bazaars, which, as Lady Merrifield said, had been a worry to hereverywhere, while Geraldine had been out of their reach; since theUnderwoods had done everything without begging, and Clementdisapproved of them without the most urgent need; but, as Lance hadsaid, his wife had grown up to them, and had gone through all thestages from delighting, acquiescing, and being bored, and they had soadvanced since their early days, from being simply sales to the grandperiod of ornaments, costumes, and anything to attract. 

"Clement consents, " said Geraldine; "as, first, it is not a church, and then, though it does seem absurd to think that singing throughthe murdered Tempest should be aiding the cause of the Church, yetanything to keep our children to learning faith and truth is worthywork. "

"Alas, it is working against the stream! How things are changed whenschool was our romance and our domain. "

"Yes, you should hear Lance tell the story of his sister-in-lawEthel, how she began at Cocksmoor, with seven children and fifteenshillings, and thought her fortune made when she got ten pounds ayear for the school-mistress; and now it is all Mrs. Rivers can do tokeep out the School-board, because they had not a separate room forthe hat-pegs!"

"We never had those struggles. We had enough to do to live at all inour dear old home days, except that my brother always taught Sundayclasses. But anyway, this is very amusing. Those young people'scharacters come out so much. Ah, Gerald, what is it?"

For Gerald was coming up to the verandah with a very pretty, dark-eyed, modest-looking girl in a sailor hat, who shrank back as hesaid—-

"I am come to ask for some luncheon for my—-my Mona. She has hadnothing to eat all day, and we still have the grand recognition sceneto come. "

At which the girl blushed so furiously that the notion crossedGeraldine that he must have been flirting with the poor littletobacconist's daughter; but Lady Merrifield was exclaiming that hetoo had had nothing to eat, and General Mohun came forth to draw theminto the dining-room, where he helped Ludmilla to cold lamb, salad, etc. , and she sat down at Gerald's signal, very timidly, so that shegave the idea of only partaking because she was afraid to refuse. 

Gerald ate hurriedly and nervously, and drank claret cup. He saidthey were getting on famously, his uncle's chief strength beingexpended in drawing out the voice of the buccaneer captain, andmitigating the boatswain. Where were the little boys? Happilydisposed of. Little Felix had gone through his part, and then Fergushad carried him and Adrian off together to Clipstone to see hisanimals, antediluvian and otherwise. 

Then in rushed Gillian, followed by Dolores. 

"Oh, mother!" cried Gillian, "there's a fresh instalment of pots andpans come in, such horrid things some of them! There's a statue interra-cotta, half as large as life, of the Dirty Boy. Geraldine, dopray come and see what can be done with him. Kalliope is in utterdespair, for they come from Craydon's, and to offend them would befatal. "

"Kalliope and the Dirty Boy, " said Mrs. Grinstead, laughing. "A dreadful conjunction; I must go and see if it is possible toestablish the line between the sublime and the ridiculous. "

"Shall I ask your nephew's leave to let you go, " said LadyMerrifield, "after all the orders I have received?"

"Oh, no-—" she began, but Gerald had jumped up. 

"I'll steer you over the drawbridge, Cherie, if go you must. Yes, "-—to the young ladies-—"I appreciate your needs. Nobody has the samefaculty in her fingers as this aunt of mine. Come along, Mona, it isMrs. Henderson's stall, you know. "

Ludmilla came, chiefly because she was afraid to be left, and LadyMerrifield could not but come too, meeting on the way Anna, come toimplore help in arranging the Dirty Boy, before Captain Hendersonknocked his head off, as he was much disposed to do. 

Gillian had bounded on before with a handful of sandwiches, butDolores tarried behind, having let the General help her to the leg ofa chicken, which she seemed in no haste to dissect. Her uncle wentoff on some other call before she had finished, eating and drinkingwith the bitter sauce of reflection on the fleeting nature of youngmen's attentions and even confidences, and how easily everything wasoverthrown at sight of a pretty face, especially in the half-and-halfclass. She had only just come out into the verandah, wearily toreturn to the preparations, which had lost whatever taste they hadfor her, when she saw Gerald Underwood springing over the partitionwall. Her impulse was to escape him, but it was too late; he cameeagerly up to her, saying—-

"She is safe with Mrs. Henderson. I am to go back for her when ourduet comes on. "

Dolores did not want to lower herself by showing jealousy or offence, but she could not help turning decidedly away, saying—-

"I am wanted. "

"Are you? I wanted to tell you why I am so interested in her. Dolores, can you hear me now?—-she is my sister. "

"Your sister!" in utter amaze. 

"Every one says they see it in the colour of our eyes. "

"Every one"-—she seemed able to do nothing but repeat his words. 

"Well, my uncle Lancelot, and—-and my mother. No one else knows yet. They want to spare my aunt till this concern is over. "

"But how can it be?"

"It is a horrid business altogether!" he said, taking her down to theunfrequented parts of the lower end of the garden, where they couldwalk up and down hidden by the bushes and shrubs. "You knew that myfather was an artist and musician, who fled from over patronage. "

"I think I have heard so. "

"He married a singing-woman, and she grew tired of him, and of me, deserted and divorced him in Chicago, when I was ten months old. Hewas the dearest, most devoted of fathers, till he and I were devouredby the Indians. If they had completed their operations on my scalp, it would have been all the better for me. Instead of which Travispicked me up, brought me home, and they made me as much of an heir ofall the traditions as nature would permit, all ignoring that not onlywas my father Bohemian ingrain, but that my mother was—-in short-—oneof the gipsies of civilization. They never expected to hear of heragain, but behold, the rapturous discovery has taken place. Sherecognised Lance, the only one of the family she had ever seenbefore, and then the voice of blood-—more truly the voice of £ s. D. -—exerted itself. "

"How was it she did not find you out before?"

"My father seems to have concealed his full name; I remember hisbeing called Tom Wood. She married in her own line after casting himoff, and this pretty little thing is her child—-the only tolerablepart of it. "

"But she cannot have any claim on you, " said Dolores, with a moreshocked look and tone than the words conveyed. 

"Not she-—in reason; but the worst of it is, Dolores, that thewretched woman avers that she deceived my father, and had an oldrascally tyrant of an Italian husband, who might have been alive whenshe married. "

"Gerald!"

Dolores stood still and looked at him with her eyes opened in horror. 

"Yes, you may well say Gerald. 'Tis the only name I have a right toif this is true. "

"But you are still yourself, " and she held out her hand. 

He did not take it, however, only saying—-

"You know what this means?"

"Of course I do, but that does not alter you—-yourself in yourself. "

"If you say that, Dolores, it will only alter me to make me-—more-—more myself. "

She held out her hand again, and this time he did take it and pressit, but he started, dropped it, and said—-

"It is not fair. "

"Oh yes, it is. I know what it means, " she repeated, "and it makesno difference, " and this time it was she who took his hand. 

"It means that unless this marriage is disproved, or the man's deathproved, I am an outcast, dependent on myself, instead of the curleddarling the Grinsteads—-blessings on them!-—have brought me up. "

"I don't know whether I don't like you better so, " exclaimed she, looking into his clear eyes and fine open face, full of resolution, not of shame. 

"While you say so-—" He broke off. "Yes, thus I can bear it better. The estate is almost an oppression to me. The Bohemian nature is inme, I suppose. I had rather carve out life for myself than have thelandlord business loaded on my shoulders. Clement and Lance willmake the model parson and squire far better than I. 'The Inspector'sTour' was a success—-between that and the Underwood music there's nofear but I shall get an independent career. "

"Oh! that is noble! You will be much more than your old self-—as yousaid. "

"The breaking of Cherie's heart is all that I care about, " said he. "To her I was comfort, almost compensation for those brothers. Idon't know how-—" He paused. "We'll let her alone till all this isover; so, Dolores, not one word to any one. "

"No, no, no!" she exclaimed. "I will-—I will be true to you througheverything, Gerald; I will wait till you have seen your way, and beproud of you through all. "

"Then I can bear it-—I have my incentive, " he said. "First, you see, I must try to rescue my sister. I do not think it will be hard, forthe maternal heart seems to be denied to that woman. Then proofsmust be sought, and according as they are found or not—-"

Loud calls of "Gerald" and "Mr. Underwood" began to resound. Hefinished—-

"Must be _the_ future. "

"_Our_ future, " repeated Dolores. 

CHAPTER XX. FRENCH LEAVE

She came, she is gone, we have met, And meet perhaps never again. -—COWPER. 

The evening of that day was a scene of welcomes, dinners, andconfusion. The Rotherwoods had arrived that evening at the CliffHotel just in time for dinner, of which they considerately partookwhere they were, to save Jane Mohun trouble; but all four of theparty came the instant it was over to hear and see all that was goingon, and were fervently received by Gillian and Mysie, who weresleeping at their aunt's to be ready for the morrow, and in spite ofall fatigue, had legs wherewith to walk Lord Ivinghoe and LadyPhyllis round the stalls, now closed up by canvas and guarded bypolice. Phyllis was only mournful not to have assisted in thepreparations, and heard all the fun that Mrs. Grinstead had made. But over the wall of Carrara a sight was seen for which no one wasprepared—-no other than Maura White's pretty classical face!

"Yes, " she said, "how could I be away from such an occasion? I madeUncle White bring me to London-—he had business there, you know-—andthen I descended on Kalliope, and wasn't she surprised! But I have alovely Italian dress!"

Kalliope Henderson looked more alarmed than gratified on the whole. She knew that there had been no idea of Maura's coming till after ithad been known that the Rotherwoods were to open the bazaar, and"made Uncle White" was so unlike their former relations that all werestartled, Gillian asking in a tone of reproof how Aunt Adeline sparedMaura. 

"Oh, we shall be back at Gastein in less than a week. I could notmiss such an occasion. "

"I only had her telegram half-an-hour ago, " said Kalliope, in anapologetic tone; and Lord Ivinghoe was to be dimly seen handing Mauraover the fence. Moonlight gardens and moonlight sea! What was to bedone? And Ivinghoe, who had begun life by being as exclusive as theMarchioness herself! "People take the bit between their teethnowadays, " as Jane observed to Lady Rotherwood when the news reachedher, and neither said, though each felt, that Adeline would not havepromoted this expedition, even for the child whom she and Mr. Whitehad conspired to spoil. Each was secretly afraid of the attractionfor Ivinghoe. 

At St. Andrew's Rock there was a glad meeting with the TravisUnderwoods, who had disposed of themselves at the Marine Hotel, whilethey came up with a select party of three Vanderkists to spend theevening with Clement, Geraldine, and Lancelot, not to mention Adrian, who had been allowed to sit up to dinner to see his sisters, and wasalmost devoured by them. His growth, and the improved looks of bothhis uncle and aunt, so delighted Marilda, that Lancelot declared theRockquay people would do well to have them photographed "Then" and"Now, " as an advertisement of the place! But he was not withoutdread of the effect of the disclosure that had yet to be made, thoughGerald had apparently forgotten all about it as he sat chaffingEmilia Vanderkist about the hospital, whither she was really goingfor a year; Sophy about the engineer who had surveyed the Penbeaconintended works, and Francie about her Miranda-Mona in strange hands. 

The Vanderkists all began life as very pretty little girls, butshowed more or less of the Hollander ancestry as they grow up. OnlyFranceska, content with her Dutch name, had shot up into a beautifulfigure, together with the fine features and complexion of theUnderwood twins, and the profuse golden flax hair of her aunt Angela, so that she took them all by surprise in the pretty dress presentedby Cousin Marilda, and chosen by Emilia. Sophy was round and short, as nearly plain as one with the family likeness could be, but brightand joyous, and very proud of her young sister. It was a merryevening. 

In fact, Lance himself was so much carried away by the spirit of thething, and so anxious about the performance, that he made all therest, including Clement, join in singing Autolycus's song, which wasto precede the procession, to a new setting of his own, before theydispersed. 

But Lance was beginning to dress in the morning when a knock came tohis door. 

"A note from Mr. Flight, please, sir. "

The note was—-"Circus and Schnetterlings gone off in the night! Shopclosed! Must performance be given up?"

The town was all over red and blue posters! But Lance felt a wildhope for the future, and a not ill-founded one for the present. Herushed into his clothes, first pencilling a note—-

 "Never say die. L. 0. U. "

Then he hurried off, and sent up a message to Miss FranceskaVanderkist, to come and speak to him, and he walked up and down thesitting-room where breakfast was being spread, like a panther, humming Prospero's songs, or murmuring vituperations, till Franceskaappeared, a perfect picture of loveliness in her morning youthfulfreshness. 

"Francie, there's no help for it. You must take Mona! She hasabsconded!"

"Uncle Lance!"

"Yes, gone off in the night; left us lamenting. "

"The horrible girl!"

"Probably not her fault, poor thing! But that's neither here northere. I wish it was!"

"But I thought-—"

"It is past thinking now, my dear. Here we are, pledged. Can't drawback, and you are the only being who can save us! You know thepart. "

"Yes, in a way. "

"You did it with me at home. "

"Oh yes; but, Uncle Lance, it would be too dreadful before all thesepeople. "

"Never mind the people. Be Mona, and only think of Alaster andAngus. "

"But what would mamma say, or Aunt Wilmet? And Uncle Clem?" each ina more awe-stricken voice. 

"I'll tackle them. "

"I know I shall be frightened and fail, and that will be worse. "

"No, it won't, and you won't. Look here, Francie, this is not aself-willed freak for our own amusement. The keeping up the Churchschools here depends upon what we can raise. I hate bazaars. I hateto have to obtain help for the Church through these people's idleamusement, but you and I have not two or three thousands to give awayto a strange place in a lump; but we have our voices. 'Such as Ihave give I thee, ' and this ridiculous entertainment may bring infifty or maybe a hundred. I don't feel it right to let it collapsefor the sake of our own dislikes. "

"Very well, Uncle Lance, I'll do as you tell me. "

"That's the way to do it, my dear. At least, when you make ready, recollect, not that you are facing a multitude, but that you aresaving a child's Christian faith; when you prepare, that you have todo with nobody but Gerald and me; when it comes to 'One, two, three, and away, ' mind nothing but your music and your cue. "

"But the dress, uncle?"

"The dress is all safe at the pavilion. You must come up andrehearse as soon as you have eaten your breakfast. Oh, you don'tknow where. Well, one of us will come and fetch you. Good girl, Francie! Keep up your heart. By the bye, which is Fernan'sdressing-room? I must prepare him. "

That question was answered, for Sir Ferdinand's door into thecorridor was opened. 

"Lance! I thought I heard your voice. "

"Yes, here's a pretty kettle of fish! Our Miranda has absconded, poor child. Happy thing you brought down Francie; nobody else couldtake the part at such short notice. You must pacify Marilda, silencescruples, say it is her duty to Church, country, and family. Can'tstop!"

"Lance, explain-—do! Music-mad as usual!" cried Sir Ferdinand, pursuing him down-stairs in despair. 

"I _must_ be music-mad; the only chance of keeping sane just now. There's an awful predicament! Can't go into it now, but you shallhear all when this is over. "

Wherewith Lance was lost to view, and presently burst into St. Kenelm's Vicarage, to the relief of poor Mr. Flight, who had tried tosolace himself with those three words as best he might. 

"All right. My niece, Franceska Vanderkist, who took the partbefore, and who has a very good soprano, will do it better as tovoice, if not so well as to acting, as the Little Butterfly. "

"Is she here?"

"Yes, by good luck. I shall have her up to the pavilion to rehearseher for the afternoon. "

"Mr. Underwood, no words can say what we owe you. You are the savingof our Church education. "

Lance laughed at the magniloquent thanks, and asked how theintimation had been received. 

It appeared that on the previous evening O'Leary had come to him, and, in swaggering fashion, had demanded twenty pounds as payment forhis step-daughter's performance at the masque. Mr. Flight hadreplied that she had freely promised her services gratuitously forthe benefit of the object in view. At this the man had scoffed, talked big about her value and the meanness of parsons, andthreatened to withdraw her. Rather weakly the clergyman had said thequestion should be considered, but that he could do nothing withoutthe committee, and O'Leary had departed, uttering abuse. 

This morning "Sweetie Bob, " the errand-boy, had arrived crying, withtidings that the shop and house were shut up; nobody answered hisknock; Mother Butterfly had "cut" in the night, gone off, hebelieved, with the circus, and Miss Lydia too; and there was two-and-ninepence owing to him, besides his-—his-—his character!

He knew that Mother Butterfly had gone to the magistrates' meetingthe day before, and paid her fine of twenty-five pounds, and he alsobelieved that she had paid up her rent, and sold her shop to aneighbouring pastry-cook, but he had never expected her to depart inthis sudden way, and then he began to shed fresh tears over his two-and-ninepence and his character. 

Mr. Flight began to reassure him, with promises to speak for him asan honest lad, while Lance bethought himself of the old organist'sdescription of that wandering star, "Without home, without country, without morals, without religion, without anything, " and recollectedwith a shudder that turning-point in his life when Edgar had made himshow off his musical talent, and when Felix had been sharp with him, and the office of the 'Pursuivant' looked shabby, dull, and dreary. 

Nothing more could be done, except to make bold assurances to Mr. Flight that Mona's place should be supplied, and then to hurry home, meeting on his way a policeman, who told him that the circus wascertainly gone away, and promised to let him know whither. 

He was glad to find that Gerald had not come down-stairs, havingoverslept himself in the morning after a wakeful night. He wasdressing when his uncle knocked at his door. 

"Here is a shock, Gerald! I hope it is chiefly to our masque. These people have absconded, and carried off our poor little Mona. "

"What? Absconded? My sister! I must be after them instantly, "cried Gerald, wildly snatching at his coat. 

"What good would that do? you can't carry her off vi et armis. "

"Send the police. "

"No possibility. The fine is paid, the rent and all. They havegone, it seems, with the circus. "

"Ah! Depend upon it that fellow has paid the fine, and bought thepoor child into slavery with it. Carried her off in spite of ourdemurring, and the Vicar's prosecution. I must save her. I'll goafter and outbid. "

"No hurry, Gerald. A circus is not such a microscopical object butthat it can be easily traced. A policeman has promised to find outwhere, and meanwhile we must attend to our present undertaking. "

Gerald strode up and down the room in a fiery fit of impatience andindignation, muttering furious things, quite transformed from thelistless, ironical youth hitherto known to his family. 

"Come, " Lancelot said, "our first duty is to do justice to our part;Francie Vanderkist will take Mona. "

"Hang Mona! you care for nothing on earth but your fiddling andsongs. "

"I do not see that being frantic will make any difference to thesituation. All in our power is being done. Meanwhile, we mustattend to what we have undertaken. "

Gerald rushed about a little more, but finally listened to hisuncle's representation that the engrossing employment was good toprevent the peril of disturbing the two whom they were so anxious tospare. Fely came running up with a message that Aunt Cherie and Annahad been sent for to see about the decorations of the art stall, andthat they would have to eat their breakfast without them. 

Appetite for breakfast was lacking, but Lance forced himself toswallow, as one aware of the consequences of fasting for agitation'ssake, and he nearly crammed Gerald; so that Adrian and Fely laughed, and he excused himself by declaring that he wanted his turkey-cock togobble and not pipe. For which bit of pleasantry he encountered aglare from Gerald's Hungarian eyes. He was afraid on one side tolose sight of his nephew, on the other he did not feel equal toencounter a scolding from Marilda, so he sent Adrian and Fely down tothe Marine Hotel to fetch Franceska, while he stole a moment or twofor greeting Clement, who was much better, and only wanted moreconversation than he durst give him. 

CHAPTER XXI. THE MASQUE

Your honour's players, hearing your amendment, Are come to play a pleasant comedy. Taming of the Shrew. 

Poor Franceska! First she encountered Cousin Marilda's wonder anddispleasure, and the declaration that Uncle Lance went absolutelycrazy over his musical mania. She had seen it before in poor Edgar, and knew what it came to. She wanted to telegraph at once to Alda toask her consent or refusal to Franceska's appearance; but SirFerdinand stopped this on the ground that the circumstances could notbe explained, and told her to content herself with Clement's opinion. 

This she sent Sophy and Emilia to ascertain, before she would letthem and the boys escort Francie to her destination. Clement, notyet up, had to hold a lit de justice, and pronounce that Uncle Lancewas to be fully trusted to ask nothing unbecoming or unnecessary, andthat Francie would have nothing to do with any one except him andGerald. 

"Besides, " said Emilia, as they walked up, "nobody will find it out. The posters are all over the town, 'Mona, Miss LudmillaSchnetterling. '"

So the sisters were received with a murmur on their delay. Thepretty dress prepared for Mona was found to be too small for the tallshapely Franceska, and Sophy undertook to alter it, while poorFrancie's troubles began. 

Whether it was that Uncle Lance and Gerald were in a secret state ofturmoil, or that their requirements were a good deal higher than forthe Vale Leston audience, or perhaps that she had no inheritance ofactress traditions, they certainly were a great deal sharper with herthan they had been ever before or with Ludmilla. 

Gerald derided her efforts sarcastically, and Uncle Lance found faultgood-humouredly but seriously, and she was nearly in tears by eleveno'clock, when the procession was to take place. She was quitesurprised when Lance turned to her and said—-

"Thank you, my dear, you are doing capitally. I shall be proud of mydaughter Mona. "

Quite in spirits again, she was sewn by Sophy into her stillunfinished dress, her beautiful light golden flax tresses weresnooded, her Highland scarf pinned on her shoulder, and she hurriedto her uncle, now be-robed and be-wigged, with Gerald in fullHighland garb, looking very much disgusted, especially when her unclesaid—-

"Well done, Francie. You'll cut that poor little thing out in looksand voice, if not in acting. "

"Oh, uncle, I sang so horridly. "

"You can do better if you try; I wish there was time to train you. We'll do the 'logs duet' once more after this tomfoolery. Ha!Captain Armytage. You are an awful pirate, and no mistake. Wheredid you get that splendid horse-pistol?"

"From my native home, as well as my sword; but I wrote to Willinghamfor the rest. This will be an uncommonly pretty march-past. Thegirls look so well, and all out of doors too. "

This was decidedly a great advantage, the trees, grass, and blue skylending a great grace to the scene. The procession started from thegarden entrance of the hotel, headed by the town band in uniform, andthe fire brigade likewise, very proud of themselves, especially thelittle terrier whom nothing would detach from one of the firemen. Then came the four seasons belonging to the flower stall, appropriately decked with flowers, the Italian peasants with flatveils, bright aprons, and white sleeves, Maura White's beautyconspicuous in the midst, but with unnecessary nods and becks. Thencame the "mediaeval" damsels in ruffs and high hats, the Highlandmaidens, with Valetta and Primrose giggling unmanageably; and AuntJane's troop of the various costumes of charity children, from thegreen frocks, long mittens, and tall white caps, and the JemimaPlacid flat hats and long waists, down to the red cloaks, poke strawbonnets, and blue frocks of the Lady Bountiful age. These werefollowed by the merry fairies and elves; then by the buccaneers andthe captive prisoners; and the rear was brought up by MacProspero, asLord Rotherwood called him, with his niece on his arm and his nephewby his side. 

When the central stall, or bothie, in the Carrara grounds wasreached, after passing in full state and order over two of thebridges, the procession halted before a group of the Rotherwoodfamily, Sir Jasper and Lady Merrifield, Lady Flight, and other localgrandees, with the clergy, who had declined to walk in procession. There the performers spread themselves out, singing Autolycus's song, led of course by MacProspero; Lady Rotherwood, with as much dignityas the occasion permitted, declared the bazaar open, and the Marquishoped every one was going to ruin themselves in the cause ofChristian education. 

The first idea of "every one" was luncheon, except that Lance laidhands on his unfortunate Angus and Mona for their duet, in the midstof which Lord Rotherwood made a raid on them. 

"There! I'm sure Prospero never was so cruel as to starve what's-his-name! Come in and have some food-—it is just by. "

They found themselves in a dining-room, in the presence of LadyRotherwood, her son and daughter, and a sprinkling of Merrifields andactors, in full swing of joyous chatter; Mysie and Lady Phyllistelling all that was specially to be admired, and Lord Rotherwoodteasing them about the prices, and their wicked extortions in thename of goodness, Gillian snubbing poor Captain Armytage in hissplendid buccaneer dress, Ivinghoe making himself agreeable toFranceska, whose heightened carnation tints made her doubly lovelythrough her shyness. Gerald and Dolores in the less lively vicinityof the Marchioness carrying on a low-toned conversation, which, however, enabled Gerald to sustain nature with food better than hehad done at breakfast. 

It did not last long. The sellers had to rush off to relieve thosewho had begun the sale, and the performance was to commence at threeo'clock, so that the final preparations had to be hurried through. 

Geraldine had made the tour of the stalls on the arm of Anna, toadmire them in their first freshness, and put finishing toucheswherever solicited. The Rocca Marina conservatories were in rareglory, orchids in weird beauty, lovely lilies of all hues, fabulouslyexquisite ipomoeas, all that heart could wish. Before them afountain played in the midst of blue, pink, and white lotus lilies, and in a flower-decked house the Seasons dispensed pot-flowers, bouquets, and button-holes; the Miss Simmondses and their friendswith simpering graces, that made Geraldine glad to escape and leavethem to the young men who were strolling up. At Carrara was thestall in which she was chiefly interested, and which had beenarranged with a certain likeness to Italian gardens, the statues andother devices disposed among flowers; the Dirty Boy judiciouslyveiled by the Puzzle Monkey, and the front of the summer-houseprolonged by pillars, sham but artistic. Jasper was zealouslyphotographing group after group, handing his performances over to hisassistant for printing off. Kalliope looked in her costume mostbeautiful and dignified. Her sister, grown to almost equal beauty, was hurrying off to see the masque, flushed and eager, while Gillianand one or two others were assisting in sales that would be ratherslack till after the performance. Here Geraldine purchased only acouple of Mouse-traps, leaving further choice to be made after thestranger purchasers. Here Sir Jasper and General Mohun came up, andgave her a good deal of curious information about Bernard's bevy offigures in Indian costumes; and having the offer of such a strong armas the General's, she dispensed with Anna, who was really wanted tohelp with the very popular photographs. 

They passed the refreshments, at present chiefly haunted by Mrs. Edgar's boys, ready to eat at any time of day; they looked civilly atthe Varley Elizabethans, and found Lady Merrifield in the midst o£her bothie, made charming with fresh green branches and purpleheather, imported by the Vanderkists. 

"That's Penbeacon ling. I know that red tint in the mauve, " saidGeraldine; "I'll give you half-a-crown, if your decorations can sparethat spiring spray!" And she put it in her bosom, after touching itwith her lips. "You have a bower for the Lady of the Lake, " sheadded. 

"I'm afraid I'm only Roderick Dhu's mother, " laughed Lady Merrifield;"but I shall have more ladies when the masque is done. Now I haveonly Mysie. "

"And oh!" cried Mysie, "please set up the nurse in the nurserygardens right. Wilfred knocked her over, and she won't stand rightfor me. "

"Perverse woman. There! No, I shall not buy anything now, I shallwait for Primrose and the refuse. How pretty it does all look! Ah, Mr. Brownlow, " as she shook hands with the curate. 

"I left my brother John at your house, " he said; "I persuaded him torun down this morning with my mother and see our doings, and he wasglad of the opportunity of looking in upon the Vicar. "

"How very kind of him. We were wishing to know what he thought!"

"No doubt he will be here presently. My mother is at the masque. There was not a seat for us, so I took him down to St. Andrew'sRock. "

"Not a seat! The five-shilling seats?"

"Not the fraction of one. Numbers standing outside! Pity therecan't be a second performance. "

"Four hundred seats! That's a hundred pounds! We shall beat theSchool-board yet!"

So, with the General politely expressing that there was no sayingwhat Rockquay owed to the hearty co-operation of such birds ofpassage as herself and her brothers, she travelled on to the charitystall, which Miss Mohun had quaintly dressed in the likeness of anold-fashioned school, with big alphabet and samplers, flourishedcopies, and a stuffed figure of a 'cont-rare-y' naughty boy, with amagnificent fool's cap. She herself sat behind it, the very image ofthe Shenstone school-mistress, with wide white cap, black poke-bonnet, crossed kerchief, red cloak, and formidable rod; and hermyrmidons were in costume to match. It was very attractive, and tookevery one by surprise, but Geraldine had had enough by this time, andlistened to Miss Mohun's invitation and entreaty that she wouldpreside over tea-cups for the weary, in the drawing-room. Theprivacy of the houses had been secured by ropes extending from thestalls to the rails of the garden, and Geraldine was conducted by hertwo generals to the verandah, where they installed her, and lingered, as was usual with her squires, always won by her spirited talk, tillmessages came to each of them from below that some grandee was come, who must be talked to and entertained. 

Already, however, Armine Brownlow had brought up his brother, thedoctor-—John or Jock, an old friend-—over, first Clement's districtand then his bed. 

"Well, Mrs. Grinstead, I can compliment you much on your brother. He is very materially better, and his heart is recovering tone. "

"I am very glad and thankful! I only wish you had seen him lastweek. He was better then, but he had a worry about our littlenephew, which threw him back. "

"So he told me. The more quiescent and amused you can keep him, themore chance of a fair recovery there will be. I am glad he thinks ofdining with the party to-night. "

"I am glad he still thinks. I had to come away early, when he hadstill left it doubtful. "

"I encouraged the idea with all my might. "

"Do you think he will be able to go back to his parish?"

"Most assuredly not while every worry tells on him in this manner. You must, if possible, take him abroad for the winter, before hebegins to think about it. "

"He has leave of absence for a year. "

"Dating from Easter, I think. Keep him in warm climates as long asyou can. Find some country to interest him without over-fatigue, andyou will, I hope, be able to bring him home fit to consider thematter. "

"That is all you promise?"

"All I dare—-not even to promise-—but to let you hope for. "

An interruption came; one of the young ladies had had her skirttrodden on, and wanted it to be stitched up. Then came Jane Mohun todeposit a handkerchief which some one had dropped. "I can stay amoment, " she said; "no one will come to buy till the masque is ended. Oh, this red cloak will be the death of me!"

"You look highly respectable without it. "

"I shall only put it on for the coup d'oeil at first. Oh, Geraldine, what is to be done with that horrid little Maura?"

"The pretty little Greek girl-—Mrs. Henderson's sister?"

"Oh! it is not Mrs. Henderson's fault, nor my sister Ada's either, except that the little wretch must have come round her. I know Adameant to stay away on that very account. "

"What account?"

"Ivinghoe's, to be sure! Oh! I forgot. You are so much one of usthat I did not remember that you did not know how the foolish boy wasattracted-—no, that's too strong a word—-but she thought he was, whenthey were here to open Rotherwood Park. He did flirt, and Victoria-—his mother, I mean-—did not like it at all. She would never havecome this time, but that I assured her that Maura was safe atGastein!"

"Is it so very undesirable?"

"My dear! Their father was old White's brother, a stone-mason. Hewas raised from the ranks, but his wife was a Greek peasant-—and ifyou had seen her, when the Merrifield children called her the Queenof the White Ants! Ivinghoe is naturally as stiff and formal as hismother, I am not much afraid for him, except that no one knows whatthat fever will make of a young man, and I don't want him to get hisfather into a scrape. There, I have exhaled it to you, and there isa crowd as if the masque was done with. "

It was, and the four hundred auditors were beginning to throng aboutthe stalls, strays coming up from time to time, and reporting withabsolute enthusiasm on the music and acting. Marilda was one ofthese. 

"Well, Cherry, I saw no great harm in it after all, and Francielooked sweetly pretty, just as poor Alda did when she first came tous. Lance must make his own excuses to Alda. But Gerald lookedhorridly ill! He sang very well, but he had such red spots on hischeeks! I'd get Clement's doctor to sound him. Lord Rotherwood wasquite complimentary. Now I must go and buy something—-I hear thereis the Dirty Boy-—I think I shall get it for Fernan's new baths andwash-houses. Then isn't there something of yours, Cherry?"

"Not to compete with the Dirty Boy. "

"Ah! now you are laughing at me, Cherry. Quite right, I am glad tohear you do it again. "

The next visitor was Lance. 

"Oh, Cherry, how cool you look! Give me a cup of tea-—notrefreshment-stall tea. That's right. Little Francie is a perfectgem-—looks and voice—-not acting-—no time for that. Heigh-ho!"

"Where's Gerald?"

"Somewhere about after that Merrifield niece with the doleful name, Ifancy. He did very well when it came to the scratch. "

"Have you seen Dr. Brownlow? He has been to see Clement. "

"That's first-rate! Where shall I find him?"

"Somewhere about, according to your lucid direction, I suppose. "

"What does he think of old Tina?"

Geraldine told him, and was rather surprised, when he whistled asthough perplexed, and as Fergus rushed in, glorious with the newsthat Sir Ferdinand had bought his collection of specimens for theBexley museum, he rose up, looking perturbed, to find Dr. Brownlow. 

Next came Gillian with news that the Dirty Boy was sold to LadyTravis Underwood. 

"And mayn't I stay a moment or two?" said she. "Now the masque isover, that Captain Armytage is besetting me again. "

"Poor Captain Armytage. "

"Why do you pity him? He is going to join his ship, the SparrowHawk, next week, and that ought to content him. "

"Ships do not always fill a man's heart. "

"Then they ought. I don't like it, " she added, in a petulant tone. "I have so much to learn and to do, I don't want to be tormentedabout a tiresome man. "

"Well, he will be out of your way to-morrow. "

"Geraldine, that is a horrid tone. "

"If you choose to put meaning in it, I cannot help it. "

"And that horrid little Maura! She is in the most awful flutter, standing on tiptoe, and craning out her foolish little neck. I knowit is all after Ivinghoe, and he never has come to our counter!Kalliope has been trying to keep her in order, but I'm sure the Queenof the White Ants must have been just like that when she got poorCaptain White to marry her. Kalliope is so much vexed, I can see. She never meant to have her here. And Aunt Ada stayed away onpurpose. "

"Has she seen much of him?"

"Hardly anything; but he did admire her, and she never was likeKalliope. But what would Aunt Ada do? Oh dear! there's that man!He has no business at Aunt Jane's charity stall. I shall go and tellhim so. "

Geraldine had her little private laugh before Adrian came up to herwith a great ship in his arms—-

"Take care of this, Aunt Cherry. She is going to sail on the Ewe. I bought her with the sovereign Uncle Fernan gave me. "

Geraldine gave the ship her due admiration, and asked after themasque. 

"Oh, that went off pretty well. I wouldn't have been Fely! All theladies went and said 'Pretty dear!' when he sang his song about thebat's back. 

Disgusting! But then he has not been a fellow at school, so he madehis bow and looked as if he didn't mind it. "

"And Francie?"

"Francie looked perfectly stunning. Everybody said so, and she sang-—well, she sang better than she did at home; but she was in an awfulfunk, though I kept on looking at her, and shouting bravo toencourage her; and she must have heard my voice, for I was just infront. "

"I hope she was encouraged. "

"But she is very stupid. I wanted to take her round to all thestalls, and show her what to buy with the five Jubilee sovereignsUncle Fernan gave her, for you know she has never been anywhere, orseen anything. I thought she would like it, and besides, all ourfellows say they never saw such an awfully pretty girl, and theycan't believe all that hair is her own—-she had it all down her back, you know-—so I told them I would let them have a pull to try. "

"Poor Francie! She declined, I suppose?"

"Well, there was that ridiculous swell, Fergus's cousin, Ivinghoe, and he has taken her off to see the stupid flowers in theconservatory. I told Sophy I wondered she permitted such flirting, but of course Francie knew no better. "

"Oh! and you couldn't stop it?"

"Not I, though I called her over and over again to look at things, but Lord Ivinghoe always hung about and gave one no peace. So I justtold Sophy to look after her, and came off to tell you. Oh my! hereis old Miss Mohun coming up. I shall be off. I want some chocolatecreams. Mrs. Simmonds has got some splendid ones. "

Miss Mohun was coming, in fact. 

"Well, Geraldine, the masque was a great success. People beg to haveit repeated, so many could not get in. And it is worth at least ahundred pounds to us. People whose opinion is worth having werequite struck. They say your brother really ought to have been agreat composer and singer. "

"I think he might have been if he had not given up his real passionto come to the help of my dear eldest brother. And he is reallyhappier as he is. "

"I knew there was conquest in his face. And that dear little elf ofa boy-—what a voice! So bright and so arch too. Then the Miranda—-she took all by surprise. I believe half the spectators took her forthe Little Butterfly. "

"Ah, the poor Little Butterfly is flown. There was nothing for itbut to make Francie act, as she had taken the part once before. "

"Her acting was no great things, they say-—ladylike, but frightened. Her voice is lovely, and as to her looks-—people rave about them. Tell me, she is not Lady Travis Underwood's daughter?"

"Oh no; she is Anna's sister, Adrian's sister. "

"So I told Lady Rotherwood, I was sure it was so. "

"The Travis Underwoods have no children, but they adopted Emilia whenI took Anna, and they have brought three Vanderkists to this affair. Francie has never been from home before, it is all quite new to her. "Then recollecting what Adrian had repeated, she thought it fair toadd, "My sister was left very badly off, and all these eight girlswill have nothing of their own. "

"Well, I don't suppose anything will come of it. I hope it will putno folly into her head; but at any rate it effaces that poor sillylittle Maura. I hope too, as you say your niece is so innocent, itwill do her no harm. "

"I don't suppose any possibilities have occurred to the child. "

Lord Rotherwood here came on the scene. 

"Jenny, there's an offer for your boy in the fool's cap, and Mysiedoubts if she ought to let him go. Well, Mrs. Grinstead, I think youhave the best of it. Lookers on, etc. "

"Looking on has always been my trade. "

"You heard the rehearsal of the masque, I believe, but you did nothear that charming Mona?"

"No; she had to take the part suddenly. Her uncle had to tyrannizeover her, to save the whole thing. "

"We are much indebted to him, and to her, " said Lord Rotherwoodcourteously. "She looked as if she hated it all in the first scene, though she warmed up afterwards. I must say I liked her the betterfor her shyness. "

"Her little brother thinks she recovered in consequence of hisapplause, " said Geraldine, smiling. 

"Ah! I saw him. And heard. A little square fellow-—very sturdy. "

"Yes, the Dutchman comes out in him, and he has droll similitudes, very curious in one who never saw his father, nor any but hisUnderwood relations. "

"So much the better for him perhaps; I have, and ought to have, greatfaith in uncles' breeding. I am glad to meet Sir Ferdinand TravisUnderwood. I have often come across him about London good works. "

"Yes, he is an excellent man. "

"Not wholly English is he, judging by the depth of colour in thoseeyes?"

"No; his mother was a Mexican, partly Indian. We used to call himthe Cacique;" and Geraldine had the pleasure of telling his story toan earnest listener, but interruption came in the shape of SirFerdinand himself who announced that he had hired a steam-yachtwherein to view the regatta, and begged Lord Rotherwood to join theparty. 

This was impossible, as the Marquis was due at an agricultural dinnerat Clarebridge, but in return, in the openness of his heart, heinvited the Travis Underwoods to their dinner that evening at thehotel, where the Merrifields and the Underwoods were already engaged, little boys and all. 

"Thank you, my lord, but we are too large a party. We have threeVanderkist girls with us, and Anna and her brother are to join themto be with their sister. "

"Never mind, never mind. The great hall will have room for all. "

Still Fernan demurred, knowing that Marilda had ordered dinner at theQuay Hotel, and that even liberal payment would not atone for missingthe feasting of the millionaires; so the matter was compounded by hispromise to bring all his party, who were not ready for bed, up tospend the evening. 

And Geraldine perceived from Lady Rotherwood's ceremonious politenessthat she did not like it at all, though she never said so even toLady Merrifield. 

However, it was a very bright evening. Gerald had sung himself intospirits, and then found Dolores, and retreated into the depths of thegarden with her, explaining to her all about his sister, anddeclaring that his first object must be to rescue her; and then, unless his name was cleared, and he had to resume all hisobligations, the new life would be open to him, and he had no fear ofnot succeeding as a journalist, or if not, a musical career waspossible to him, as Dolores had now the opportunity of fullyperceiving. His sweet voice had indeed filled her with doubleenthusiasm. She had her plan for lecturing, and that very morningshe had received from her father permission to enter a ladies'college, and the wherewithal. She would qualify herself forlecturing by the time he had fixed his career; and they built theirairy castles, not on earth, but on railroads and cycles, and revelledon them as happily as is common to lovers, whether in castle or incottage. Certainly if the prospect held out to her had been ValeLeston Priory, it would not have had the same zest; and when in theevening they joined the dinner-party, there was a wonderful look ofpurpose and of brightness on both their faces. And Emilia, who hadbeen looking for him all the afternoon to tell him, "Gerald, I amreally going to be a nurse, " only got for answer an absent "Indeed!"

"Yes, at St. Roque's. "

"I hope I shall never be a patient there, " he said, in his half-mocking tone. "You'll look jolly in the cap and apron. "

"I'm to be there all the time they are in America, and-—"

"Well, I wonder you don't go and study the institutions. "

"But, Gerald--"

His eye was wandering, and he sprang forward to give Dolores a flowerthat she had dropped. 

Lancelot, knowing what was before Gerald, and having always regardedVale Leston with something of the honours of Paradise, could notunderstand that joyous look of life, so unlike Gerald's usual weary, passive expression. He himself felt something of the depression thatwas apt to follow on musical enjoyment; he saw all the failuresdecidedly enough not to be gratified with the compliments he met onall sides, and "he bitterly thought on the morrow, " when he saw howClement was getting animated over a discussion on Church matters, andhow Geraldine was enjoying herself. And as to that pretty Franceska, who had blossomed into the flower of the flock, he foresaw heart-break for her when he watched the Marchioness's countenance onhearing that her son had accepted Sir Ferdinand's invitation tocruise to-morrow in the yacht. 

Vainly was Ivinghoe reminded of the agricultural dinner. He was onlytoo glad to escape it, and besides, he thought he could be there intime. 

Nevertheless, the present was delightful, and after dinner the youngpeople all went off to the great assembly-room, whence Anna came backto coax Uncle Lance to play for them. All the elders jumped up fromtheir several discussions. Even Lady Rotherwood moved on, looking asbenign as her feelings would permit. Jane squeezed Geraldine's arm, exceedingly amused. Lance struck up, by request, an old-fashionedcountry dance; Lord Rotherwood insisted that "Lily" should dance withhim, as the remnant of forty good years ago or more, and with SirRoger de Coverley the day ended. 

Poor little Maura, making an excuse to wander about the gardens inthe moonlight, saw the golden locks shining through the open windows, and Lord Ivinghoe standing over them, went home, and cried herself tosleep over the fickleness of the nobility, when she had better havecried over her own unjustified romance, excited by a few kindlyspeeches and a cup of tea. 

And Emilia! What was Gerald's one laughing turn with her, comparedwith his long talk with Dolores in the moonlight?

CHAPTER XXII. THE REGATTA

She saw a forget-me-not in the grass, Gilly-flower, gentle rosemary, Ah! why did the lady that little flower pass, While the dews fell over the mulberry-tree? KENEALY. 

Such of the party as were not wanted for the second day of thebazaar, and were not afraid of mal de mer, had accepted the yachtinginvitation, except the three elders at St. Andrew's Rock. EvenAdrian and Felix were suffered to go, under Sophy's charge, on thepromise to go nowhere without express permission, and not to betroublesome to any one. 

"Sophy can say, 'Now, boys, ' as effectively as Wilmet, " saidGeraldine, when she met Lance, who had been to the quay to see themoff. 

"She did not say so to much advantage with her own boys, " saidClement. 

"We weren't Harewoods, " returned Lance, "and John never could bear tosee a tight hand over them; but there's good in them that will comeout some day. "

Clement gave an emphatic "Humph!" as he sat down to the secondbreakfast after Anna had gone to the cliff to resume her toils. 

"Who are gone?" asked Geraldine. 

"Poor Marilda, smilingly declaring she shall be in misery in thecabin all the time, Fernan, and four Vanderkists, General Mohun, SirJasper, and some of his progeny; but others stay to help Miss Mohunfinish up the sales. "

"Does Lord Ivinghoe go?"

"Oh yes, he came rushing down just in time. Francie was looking likea morning rose off the cloister at Vale Leston. "

"I am sorry they have another day of it. I don't see how it can cometo good, " said Geraldine. 

"Perhaps her roses may fade at sea, " said Clement, "anddisenchantment may ensue. "

"At least I hope Alda may not hear of it, or she will be in an agonyof expectation as long as hope lasts. Gerald is gone, of course?"

"Oh yes!" said Lance, who had had a farewell from him with the words, "Get it over while I am out of the way, and tell them I don't mind. "

Cursory and incomprehensible, but conclusive; and Lance, who mindedenough to have lost sleep and gained a headache, marvelled over youngmen's lightness and buoyancy. He had seen Dr. Brownlow, and arrangedthat there should be a call, as a friend, in due time after thecommunication, in case it should hurt Clement, and when Geraldineobserved merrily that now they were quit of all the young ones theycould feel like old times, he was quite grieved to disturb herpleasure. 

Clement, however, began by taking out a letter and saying—-

"Here is a remarkable missive left for me yesterday—-'If the Rev. Underwood wishes to hear of something to his advantage, he shouldcommunicate with Mr. O'L. , care of Mr. John Bast, van proprietor, Whitechapel. ' An impostor?" said he. 

"I am afraid not, " said Lance. "Clement, I fear there is no doubtthat she is that singing Hungarian woman who was the ruin of Edgar'slife. "

"Gerald's mother!" exclaimed Geraldine. 

"Even so. "

"But she is gone! She gave up all rights. She can't claim anything. Has she worried him?"

"Yes, poor boy! She has declared that she had actually a livinghusband at the time she married our poor Edgar. "

Of course both broke out into exclamations that it was impossible, and Lance had to tell them of his interview with the woman atGerald's entreaty. They were neither of them so overcome by thedisclosure as he had feared during his long delay. 

"I believe it is only an attempt at extortion, " said Clement. 

"Very cruel, " said Geraldine. "How-—how did my poor boy bear it allthis time?"

"He was very much knocked down at first, quite overwhelmed, but lessby the loss than by the shame, and the imputation on his father. "

"It was no fault of dear Edgar's. "

"No, indeed. I am glad Fernan is here to go over again what Edgartold him. We may be quite satisfied so far. "

"And is it needful to take it up?" asked Geraldine wistfully. "If wedon't believe it, the horrid story would get quashed. "

"No, Cherry, " said Clement. "If you think it over you will see thatwe must investigate. I should be relieved indeed to let it alone, but it would not be fair towards Lance there and his boys. "

Lance made a strange noise of horror and deprecation, then added—-

"I don't believe Gerald would consent to let it alone. "

"No, now he knows, of course. He is a right-minded, generous boy, "said Geraldine. "I was wrong. Did you say he was very much upset?"

"Just at first, when he came to me at night. I was obliged todragoon him, and myself too, to throw it off enough to be able to getthrough our performance yesterday. How thankful I am to the regattathat it is not our duty to the country to go through it again to-day!However, he seems to have rebounded a good deal. He was about allthe latter part of the day with Miss Mohun. "

"I saw him dancing and laughing with some of them. "

"And he parted from me very cheerfully, telling me to assure you 'hedid not mind, ' whatever that may mean. "

"He knows that nothing can disturb our love for him, Edgar's littlecomfort, passed on to bear us up, " said Cherry tearfully. "Oh yes, Iknow what he meant-—Felix's delight, my darling always. "

"It strikes me, " said Lance, "that if he can save his sister—-"

Geraldine started. 

"Oh, the cigar-girl! Only by that mother's side. "

"That is true, but she is his half-sister, and he is evidently muchdrawn towards her. She is a nice little thing, and I believe he mademuch of her on the rehearsal day. I saw they got on much bettertogether, and I think she was aware of the relationship. "

"Yes, it is quite right of him, " said Geraldine, "but she will be adrag on him all his life. Now what ought we to do? Shall you answerthis letter to the care of the van-man, Clem?"

"I shall think, and wait till I have seen Gerald and Travis. Thisletter is evidently written simply in the hope of raising money fromme, not in any friendly spirit. "

"Certainly not, " said Lance. "Having failed to black-mail Gerald, and discovered that you are the heir, they begin on you, but not fromany gratitude to you. Sweetie Bob, as they call the ex-errand-boy, gives a fine account of their denunciations of the tall parson whobrought the bobbies down on them. "

Lance felt much reassured by Clement's tone, and all the more when hehad seen Dr. Brownlow, who made a thorough examination, and came tothe conclusion that Clement had recovered tone, so that the shock, whatever it was, that his brother dreaded had done no present damage, but that he was by no means fit for any strain of work or exertion, should be kept from anxiety as much as possible, and had better spendthe winter in a warm climate. It was not likely-—Jock Brownlow saidit with grief and pain-—that he would ever be able to return to thecharge of St. Matthew's, but as he had a year's holiday, there was noneed to enter on that subject yet, and in a quiet country place, witha curate, he might live to the age of man in tolerable health if hetook care of himself, or his sister took care of him for some time tocome. 

So much relieved was Lance that he recollected that he had laid in nostock of presents for those at home, and went up to profit by thesecond day's reductions, when he secured Geraldine's portrait of DavyBlake for his wife, and a statuette of St. Cecilia for Dr. May, somecharming water-colours for Robina and Ethel, besides various lesserdelights for the small fry, his own and the flock at Vale Leston, besides a cushion for Alda's sofa. John Inglesant had been bought bya connoisseur by special commission. He heard at every stalltriumphant accounts of the grand outlay of the Travis Underwoods andRotherwoods, and just the contrary of Mrs. Pettifer, whom heencountered going about in search of bargains, and heard haggling fora handsome table-cover, because it was quite aesthetic, and would notdo except in a large house, so of course it had not sold. 

The Mouse-traps had been a great success, and there were very fewleft of them. They really owed as much to Lance as did the play, forhe had not only printed them at as small a cost as possible, but hadedited, pruned, and got them into shape more than any of the younglady authors suspected. The interpretation of handwriting hadlikewise succeeded in obtaining many clients, and a large pile ofsilver coins. Anna, who was hovering near, was delighted to show himthat her sister Sophy's writing had been declared to indicate homelytastes, an affectionate disposition, great perspicuity of perception, much force of character; and Franceska's, scarcely yet formed, showedthat she was affectionate, romantic, and, of all things in the world, fond of horses and of boating. Emilia's was held as a great blunder, for she was said to have an eye devoted to temporal advantages, alsovolatile, yet of great determination, triumphing over every obstacle, and in much danger of self-deception. 

"The triumph at least is true, " said Anna, "now she has her way aboutthe nursing. "

"Has she? I did not know it. "

"Yes, she is to try it for a year, while Cousins Fernan and Marildago out to their farm in the Rocky Mountains. "

Just then there was a little commotion, and a report came up that aboat had been run down and some one drowned. Somebody said, "One ofthose acting last night-—a buccaneer. " Somebody else, "A naval man. "Then it was "The Buccaneer Captain, " and Mrs. Pettifer wasexclaiming, "Poor Captain Armytage! He was in our theatricals, Iremember, but they thought him rather high. But he was a fine youngman! Poor Captain Armytage!"

Lance had sufficient interests in those at sea to be anxious, andturned his steps to the gates to ascertain the facts, when he wasovertaken by Gillian, with a hat hastily thrown over her snooded hairand Highland garb, hurrying along, and looking very white. 

"Mr. Underwood! Oh! did you hear who it was?"

"No certainty. I was going down to find out. You, " as he saw herpurpose, "had better not come. There will be a great crowd. I willcome back and tell you. "

"Oh no, I must. This is the short way. "

Her hands trembled so that she could hardly undo the privatefastening of Miss Mohun's garden, and she began to dash down thecliff steps. Just at the turn, where the stair-way was narrowest, Lance heard her exclaim, and saw that she had met face to face noother than Captain Armytage himself. 

"Oh! is it?" and she so tottered on the rocky step that the hand hehad put out in greeting became a support, and a tender one, as Lancesaid (perhaps with a little _malice_)—-

"We heard that the Buccaneer Captain had come to grief. "

"I?" he laughed; and Gillian shook herself up, asking—-

"Weren't you run down?" seeing even as she spoke that not a drop ofwet was traceable. 

"Me! What! did you think I was going to peril my life in a 'long-shore concern like this?" said he, with a merry laugh, betrayinginfinite pleasure. 

"But did nothing happen? Nobody drowned?" she asked, halfdisappointed. 

"Not a mouse! A little chap, one of the fairies yesterday, tumbledoff the sea-wall where he had no business to be, but he swam like acork. We threw him a rope and hauled him up. "

Wherewith he gave his arm to Gillian, who was still trembling, andclasped it so warmly that Lance thought it expedient to pass them assoon as possible and continue his journey on the staircase, giving alow whistle of amusement, and pausing to look out on the beautifulblue bay, crowded with the white sails of yachts and pleasure-boats, with brilliant festoons of little flags, and here and there thefeather of steam from a launch. He could look, for he was feelinglighter of heart now that the communication was over. 

Perhaps Lance would have been edified could he have heard thecolloquy—-

"Gillian! you do care for me after all?"

Gillian tried to take her arm away and to say, "Common humanity, " butshe did not get the words out. 

"No, no!" he said. "Confess that if it had been that fisher-boy, youwould not be here now!" and he kept tight the arm that she was goingto take away. Her face was in a flame. 

"Well, well; and if-—if it wasn't, you need not make such a fussabout it. "

"Not when it is the first ray of hope you have afforded me, for theonly joy of my life?"

"I never meant to afford—-"

"But you could not help. "

"Oh, don't! I never meant it. Oh dear! I never meant to be worriedabout troublesome things like this till I had got older, and learnt agreat deal more; and now you want to upset it all. It is very—-verydisagreeable. "

"But you need not be upset!" poor Ernley Armytage pleaded. "Remember, I am going away for three years. May I not take hope withme?"

Gillian paused. 

"Well, " again she said, "I do like you—-I mean, I don't mind you asmuch as most people; you have done something, and you have somesense. "

His look of rapture at these very moderate words quite overpoweredher, and the tears welled up into her eyes, while she made a suddenchange of tone. 

"There, there-—of course it is all right. I'm a nasty creature, andif you like me, it is more than I deserve, only, whatever you do, don't make me cry. I've got all the horrid dolls and pen-wipers, andbags and rags to get rid of. "

"May I talk to your mother?"

"Oh yes, if you can catch her. She will be ever so much more good toyou than I; and I only hope she will warn you what a Tartar I am. "

Wherewith Gillian threw off her hat, swung open the gate, and dashedlike a hunted hare up to her mother's stall, where in truth she hadbeen wanted, since only two helpers had remained to assist in thecheapening and final disposal of the remnants. Lady Merrifield readsomething in those wild eyes and cheeks burning, but the exigenciesof the moment obliged her to hold her peace, and apply herself toestimating the half-price of the cushions and table-cloths sherejoiced to see departing, as well as to preserve wits enough not tolet Gillian sell the Indian screen for two shillings and sixpence, under the impression that this was the half of five pounds. Mysiewas the only one who kept her senses fairly undisturbed, and couldbalance between her duty to the schools and her desire to gratify achild, happy in that she never saw more than one thing at a time. Valetta and Primrose were yachting, so that the distraction was less, and Captain Armytage lingered round, taking messages, and looking inwistful earnestness for some one to be disengaged. Yet there wassomething in his eyes that spoke of the calmness of an attainedobject, and Miss Mohun, who had sold off all her remaining frocks andpinafores at a valuation to Marilda for some institution, and wasfree to help her sister, saw in a moment that his mind was settled. 

Yet speech was scarcely possible till the clearance was finallyeffected by a Dutch auction, when Captain Armytage distinguishedhimself unexpectedly as auctioneer, and made an end even of the lastsachet, though it smelt so strongly of lip-salve that he declaredthat a bearer must be paid to take it away. But the purchaser was abig sailor, who evidently thought it an elegant gift for hissweetheart. 

By the time it was gone the yachters had come home. Captain Armytageseized on Sir Jasper, who already know his purpose, and wished himsuccess, though withheld from saying a word to urge the suit by LadyMerrifield's assurances, that to hurry Gillian's decision would befatal to success, and that a reproof for petulance would be worse. She did not know whether to wish for the engagement or not; Gillianwas her very dear and sufficient companion, more completely so thanMysie, who was far less clever; and she had sometimes doubted whethercommon domestic life beginning early was for the girl's happiness andfull development; but she knew that her husband would scout thesedoubts as nonsense, and both really liked Ernley Armytage, and hadheard nothing but what was to his advantage in every way, when theyhad been in his own county, and had seen his neighbours and hisfamily. However, she could only keep quiet, and let her heart risein a continual aspiration at every silent moment for her child'sguidance. 

Before she had had her moment of speech with either, she heard herhusband calling Gillian, and she knew that he was the one person withwhom his daughter never hid her true self in petulance or sarcasm. So Gillian met him in the General's sitting-room, gasping as sheturned the handle of the door. He set a chair for her, and spokegravely. 

"My dear, " he said, "I find you have gained the heart of a good man. "

"I am sure I never meant it, " half whispered Gillian. 

"What is that-—you never meant it? I never supposed you capable ofsuch an unladylike design. You mean that you were taken bysurprise?"

"No; I did see what he was at, " and she hung her head. 

"You guessed his intentions?"

"Yes, papa; but I didn't want-—"

"Try to explain yourself, " said Sir Jasper as she broke off. 

"I--I did wish to go on improving myself and being useful. Surely itwas not wrong, papa. Don't you see, I did not want to let myself beworried into letting myself go out, and spoiling all my happiness andimprovement and work, and getting to care for somebody else?"

"But you have consented. "

"Well, when I was frightened for him I found I did care, and he gothold of me, and made me allow that I did; and now I suppose nobodywill give me any peace. "

"Stay, Gillian-—keep yourself from this impatient mood. I think Iunderstand your unwillingness to overthrow old associations and admita new overmastering feeling. "

"That's just it, papa, " said Gillian, looking up. "I can't bear thatovermastering feeling, nor the being told every one must come to it. It seems such folly. "

"Folly that Eve was given to be a helpmeet, and as the bride, theChurch to her Bridegroom? Look high enough, Gillian, and the popularchatter will not confuse your mind. You own that you really lovehim. "

"Oh, papa, not half so much as mamma, or Mysie, or Jasper, but-—butI think I might. "

"Is that all, Gillian? No one would coerce you. Shall I send himaway, and tell him not to think of it? Remember, it is a seriousthing—-nay, an unworthy thing to trifle with a right-minded man. "

Gillian sat clasping the elbow of her chair, her dark eyes fixed. At last she said—-

"Papa, I do feel a sort of trust in him, a sort of feeling as if mylife and all goodness and all that would be safe with him; and Icouldn't bear him to go quite away and hear no more of him, only I dowish it wouldn't happen now; and if there is a fuss about it, I shallget cross and savage, and be as nasty as possible, I know I shall. "

"You can't exercise enough self-command to remember what is due-—Iwould say kind and considerate-—to a man who has loved you throughall your petulance and discouragement, and now is going to a life notwithout peril for three years? Suppose a mishap, Gillian-—how wouldyou feel as to your treatment of him on this last evening?"

"Oh, papa! if you talk in that way I must, I must, " and she burstinto tears. 

Sir Jasper bent over her and gave her a kiss-—a kiss that from himwas something to remember. It was late, and summonses to a hurriedmeal were ringing through Beechcroft Cottage, where the Clipstoneparty waited to see the illuminations. 

Talk was eager between the sellers and the sailors as Valettadescribed the two parties, the fate of the Indian screen, and themisconduct of Cockneys in their launches were discussed by many avoice, but Gillian was unwontedly silent. Her mother had no time formore than a kiss before the shouts of Wilfred, Fergus, and Primrosewarned them that the illuminations were beginning. She could onlycatch Mysie, and beg her to keep the younger ones away from Gillianand the Captain. Mysie opened her brown eyes wide and said—-

"Oh!" Then, "Is it really?"

"Really, my dear, and remember that it is his last evening!"

"Oh!" said Mysie again. "I never thought it of Gill! May I tellValetta?"

"Better not, my dear, if it can be helped. "

A screaming for Gill was heard, and Mysie hastened to answer it. Lady Merrifield was too much tired to do anything but sit in thegarden with Miss Mohun and look out at the ships, glittering withfestoons of coloured lamps, reflected in the sea, but the youngpeople went further afield, out on the cliff path to Rotherwood Park. The populace were mainly collected on the quay, and this formed amore select promenade, though by no means absolute solitude. SirJasper really did keep guard over the path along which Gillianallowed her Captain to conduct her, not exactly knowing which waythey were going, and quite away from the bay and all its attractions. 

She heard him out without any of the sharp, impatient answers inwhich her maiden coyness was wont to disguise itself, as he told herof his hopes and plans for the time when his three years of theMediterranean should be over. 

"And you see you can go on studying all the time, if you must be soclever. "

"I think one ought to make the most of oneself, just as you want torise in your profession! No, indeed, I could not bear you if youwanted me to sit down and idle, or to dawdle yourself. "

"Don't grow too clever for me. "

"Mother always says that a real man has stuff in him that is quitedifferent from cleverness, and yet I could not bear to give that up. I am so glad you don't mind. "

"Mind! I mind nothing but to know you are caring for me. And youwill write to me?"

"I shan't know what to say. You will tell of volcanoes, and Athens, and Constantinople, and Egypt, and the Holy Land, and I shall havenothing to say but who lectures in college. "

"Little you know what that will be to me. "

It was a curious sensation all the time to Gillian, with a dawningsense that was hardly yet love—-she was afraid of that-—but ofsomething good and brave and worthy that had become hers. She hadfelt something analogous when the big deer-hound at Stokesley cameand put his head upon her lap. But the hound showed himself gratefulfor caresses, and so did her present giant when the road grew rough, and she let him draw her arm into his and talk to her. 

It was the parting, for he had to go to London and to his own familythe next day early. Gillian spoke not a word all through the darkdrive to Clipstone, but when the party emerged into the light hereyes were full of tears. Lady Merrifield followed her to her room, and her words half choked were—-

"Mamma, I never knew what a great, solemn, holy thing _it_ is. Willyou look me out a prayer to help me to get worthy?"

CHAPTER XXIII. ILLUMINATIONS

'Twas in the summer-time so sweet, When hearts and flowers are both in season, That who, of all the world should meet, In "twilight eve, " but Love and Reason. T. MOORE. 

That moon and sparkling lights did not shine alone for Gerald andDolores. There were multitudes on the cliffs and the beach, and SirFerdinand and Lady Travis Underwood with their party had come to anirregular sort of dinner-supper at St. Andrew's Rock. With them, orrather before them, came Mr. Bramshaw, the engineer, who sent in hiscard to Mr. Clement Underwood, and entered with a leathern bag, betraying the designs on Penbeacon. 

Not that these were more than an introduction. Indeed, under thepresent circumstances, a definite answer was impossible; but therewas another question, namely, that which regarded Sophia Vanderkist. She had indeed long been of age, but of course her suitor could notbut look to her former guardian for consent and influence. He was avery bearded man, pleasant-spoken and gentlemanlike, and Lancelot hadprepared his brother by saying that he knew all about the family, andthey were highly respectable solicitors at Minsterham, one son amaster in the school at Stoneborough. So Clement listenedfavourably, liked the young man, and though his fortunes at presentdepended on his work, and Lady Vanderkist was no friend to his suit, gave him fair encouragement, and invited him to join the meal, thoughthe party was already likely to be too numerous for the dining-room. 

That mattered the less when all the young and noisy ones could beplaced, to their great delight, under the verandah outside, wherethey could talk and laugh to their utmost content, withoutincommoding Uncle Clement, or being awed by Cousin Fernan's blackbeard and Cacique-like gravity. How they discussed and made fun overthe humours of the bazaar; nor was Gerald's wit the slackest, nor hismirth the most lagging. He was very far from depressed now that thefirst shock was over. He knew himself to be as much loved or betterthan ever by those whose affection he valued, and he was sure ofDolores' heart as he had never yet been. The latent Bohemianism inhis nature woke with the prospect of having his own way to make, andbeing free from the responsibilities of an estate, and his chivalrywas excited by the pleasure of protecting his little half-sister, inpursuit of whom he intended to go. 

So, light-hearted enough to amaze the elders who knew the secret, hejumped up to go with the rest of the party to the cliff walk, wherethe brilliant ships could best be seen. Lance, though his headachewas, as Geraldine said, visible on his brow, declared that night airand sea-breeze were the best remedy, and went in charge of the twoboys, lest his dainty Ariel should make an excursion over the rocks;and the four young ladies were escorted by Gerald and the engineer. 

The elders were much too tired for further adventures, and Geraldineand Marilda were too intimate to feel bound to talk. Only a fewwords dropped now and then about Emilia and her hospital, where shewas to be left for a year, while Fernan with Marilda visited hisAmerican establishments, and on their return would decide whether shewould return, or whether they would take Franceska, or a younger one, in her stead. The desertion put Marilda out of heart, and she sighedwhat a pity it was that the girl would not listen to young Brown. 

Meanwhile, Clement was making Ferdinand go over with him Edgar'swords about his marriage. They had all been written down immediatelyafter his death, and had been given to Felix with the certificates ofthe marriage and birth and of the divorce, and they were now no doubtwith other documents and deeds in the strong-box at Vale LestonPriory. Fernan could only repeat the words which had been burnt inon his memory, and promise to hunt up the evidence of the form andmanner of the dissolution of the marriage at Chicago. Like Clementhimself, he very much doubted whether the allegation would not breakdown in some important point, but he wished Gerald to be assured thatif the worst came to the worst, he would never be left destitute, since that first meeting—-the baptism, and the receiving him from thedying father-—amounted to an adoption sacred in his eyes. 

Then, seeing how worn-out Clement looked, he abetted Sibby andGeraldine, in shutting their patient safe up in his bedroom, not tobe "mislested" any more that night, said Sibby. So he missed therush of the return. First came the two sober sisters, Anna andEmilia, only sorry that Aunt Cherry had not seen the lovely sea, theexquisite twinkle of silvered waves as the moon rose, and then theoutburst of coloured lights, taking many forms, and the brilliantfireworks darting to and fro, describing curves, bursting andscattering their sparks. Emilia had, however, begun by the anxiousquestion—-

"Nan, what is it with Gerald?"

"I don't quite know. I suspect Dolores has somehow teased him, though it is not like her. "

"Then there is something in it?"

"I can't help believing so, but I don't believe it has come toanything. "

"And is she not a most disagreeable girl! Those black eyebrows dolook so sullen and thunderous. "

"Oh no, Emmie, I thought so at first, but she can't help hereyebrows; and when you come to know her there is a vast deal in her-—thought, and originality, and purpose. I am sure it has been goodfor Gerald. He has seemed more definite and in earnest lately, lessas if he were playing with everything, with all views all round. "

"But his spirits are so odd!-—so merry and then so grave. "

"That is only during these last few days, and I fancy there must besome hitch—-perhaps about Dolores' father, and we are all in suchhaste. "

Emilia did not pursue the subject. She had never indulged in thefolly of expecting any signs of actual love from her cousin. She hadalways known that the family regarded any closer bond as impossible;but she had been always used to be his chief confidante, and shemissed his attention, but she would not own this even to herself, goshe talked of her hospital schemes with much zest, and how she shouldspend her outings at a favourite sisterhood. 

"For, " said she, "I am tired of luxury. "

It had been a delightful walk to Anna, with her companion sister, discussing Adrian, or Emily's plans, or Sophy's prospects. They hadcome home the sooner, for Emily had to pack, as she was to spend alittle while with her mother at Vale Leston. Where was Franceska?They were somewhat dismayed not to find her, but it was one of thenights when everybody loses everybody, and no doubt she was withUncle Lance, or with Sophy, or Gerald. 

No such thing. Here was Uncle Lance with his two boys in varyingkinds of delight, Adrian pronouncing that "it was very jolly, themost ripping sight he ever saw, " then eating voraciously, with hiseyes half shut, and tumbling off to bed "like a veritable Dutchman, "said Lance, who had his own son in a very different mood, withglowing cheeks, sparkling eyes, appetite gone for very excitement, ashe sprang about and waved his hands to describe the beautiful courseof the rockets, and the fall of the stars from the Roman candles. 

"Oh, such as I never-—never saw! How shall I get Pearl and Audrey toget even a notion of it? Grandpapa will guess in a moment! Oh, andthe sea, all shine with a path of—-of glory! Oh, daddy, there arethings more beautiful than anybody could ever dream of!"

"Go and dream then, my sprite. Try to be as still as you can, evenif you do go on feeling the yacht, and seeing the sparks when youshut your eyes. For you see my head is bad, and I do want a chanceof sleep. "

"Poor daddy! I'll try, even if the music goes on in my head. Good-night. "

"That will keep him quieter than anything, " said Lance; "but I wouldnot give much for the chance of his not seeing the dawn. "

"Or you either, I fear, " said Geraldine. "Have you slept since thediscovery?"

"I shall make my sleep up at home, now I have had the whole out. Whocomes now?"

It was Sophy, with her look of

 "Gentle wishes long subdued, Subdued and cherished long. "

Mr. Bramshaw had brought her to the door, and no doubt she and he hadhad a quiet, restful time of patient planning; but the not findingFrancie soon filled her with great alarm and self-reproach for havinglet herself be drawn away from the party, when all had stood togetheron Miss Mohun's lawn. She wanted to start off at once in search ofher sister, and was hardly pacified by finding that Gerald was stillto come. Then, however, Gerald did come, and alone. He said he hadjust seen the Clipstone party off. No, he had not seen Franciethere; but he added, rather as if recovering from a bewilderment, asSophy was asking him to come out with her again, "Oh, never fear. Lord Ivinghoe was there somewhere!"

"I thought he was gone. "

"No, he said the yacht got in too late for the train. Never mind, Sophy, depend upon it she is all right. "

None of the ladies present felt equally pleased, but in a minute ortwo more in came a creature, bright, lovely, and flushed, with twostarry eyes, gleaming like the blue lights on the ships. 

"Oh, Cousin Marilda, have I kept you waiting? I am so sorry!"

"Where have you been?"

"Only on the cliff walk. Lord Ivinghoe took me to see the placewhere his father had the accident, and we watched the fireworks fromthere. Oh, it was so nice, and still more beautiful when the strangelights were out and the people gone, and only the lovely quiet moonshining on the sea, and a path of light from Venus. "

"I should think so, " muttered Gerald, and Marilda began—-

"Pretty well, miss. "

"I am very sorry to bo so late, " began Francie, and Geraldine caughtan opportunity while shawling Marilda to say—-

"Dear, good Marilda, I implore you to say nothing to put it into herhead or Alda's. I don't think any harm is done yet, but it can't beanything. It can't come to good, and it would only be unhappiness tothem all. "

"Oh, ah! well, I'll try. But what a chance it would be, and howhappy it would make poor Alda!"

"It can't be. The boy's mother would never let him look at her!Don't, don't, don't!"

"Well, I'll try not. " She kissed her fondly. 

Gerald's walk had been with Dolores of course, a quiet, grave, earnest talk and walk, making them feel how much they belonged to oneanother, and building schemes in which they were to learn the natureof the poor and hard-worked, by veritably belonging to them, andbeing thus able to be of real benefit. In truth, neither of them, intheir brave youthfulness, really regretted Vale Leston, and theresponsibilities; and, as Gerald declared, he would give it uptomorrow gladly if he could save his name and his father's fromshame, but, alas! the things went together. 

Dolores wished to write fully to her father, and that Gerald shoulddo the same, but she did not wish to have the matter discussed in thefamily at once, before his answer came, and Gerald had agreed tosilence, as indeed they would not call themselves engaged till thattime. Indeed, Dolores said there was so much excitement aboutCaptain Armytage that no one was thinking of her. 

CHAPTER XXIV. COUNSELS OF PATIENCE

He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who fears to put it to the touch, To win or lose it all. 

If Sibby hoped to keep her "long boy" from being "mislested, " she wasmistaken. He knew too well what was to come, and when she knocked athis door with his cup of tea, he came to it half dressed, to herextreme indignation, calling for his shaving water. 

"Now, Master Clem, if you would only be insinsed enough to keep toyour bed, you might have Miss Sophy to speak to you there, if nothingelse will serve you. "

"Is she there?"

"In coorse, and Miss Francie too. What should they do else, aftercolloguing with their young men all night? Ah, 'tis a proud womanpoor Miss Alda would be if she could have seen the young lord! Andthe real beauty is Miss Francie, such as my own babbies were beforeher, bless them!"

"Stop, " cried Clement in consternation. "It is only a bit of passingadmiration. Don't say a word about it to the others. "

"As if I would demane myself to the like of them! Me that has beenforty-seven years with you and yours, and had every one of you in myarms the first thing, except the blessed eldest that is gone to abetter place. "

"Would that he were here now!" sighed Clement, almost as he hadsighed that first morning of his loss. "Where are those girls?"

"Rampaging over the house with Sir Adrian, and his packing of all hisrubbish, enough to break the heart of a coal-heaver! I'd not letthem in to bother their aunt, and Mr. Gerald is asleep like a blessedbaby. "

"And Lance?"

"Oh! it is down to the sea he is with that child that looks as if hewas made of air, and lived on live larks! And Master Lance, he's nobetter-—eats like a sparrow, and sits up half the night writing forhis paper. "

Clement got rid of Sibby at last, but he was hardly out of his roombefore Sophy descended on him, anxious and blushing, though he couldgive her much sympathy and kindly hope of his influence, only he hadto preach patience. It had been no hasty fancy, but there had longbeen growing esteem and affection, and he could assure her of all theaid the family could give with her mother, though Penbeacon workswould be a very insecure foundation for hope. 

"I think Gerald would consent, " said Sophy, "and he will soon be ofage. "

Clement could only say "Humph!"

"One thing I hope is not wrong, " said Sophy, "but I do trust that noone will tell mother about Lord Ivinghoe. It is not jealousy, Ihope, but I cannot see that there is anything in it, only the verysound would set mother more against Philip than ever. "

"You do not suppose that Francie is—-is touched?"

"No, " said Sophy, gravely as an elder, "she is such a child. She wasvery much pleased and entertained, and went on chattering, till Ibegged her to let us say our prayers in peace. We never talk afterthat, and she went to sleep directly, and was smiling when she woke, but I do not fancy she will dwell on it, or fancy there is more tocome, unless some one puts it into her head. "

It was sagely said, and Clement knew pretty well who was the oneperson from whom Sophy had fears. Poor Alda, improved and altered asshe was, if such a hope occurred to her, would she be able to helpimparting it to her daughter and looking out for the fulfilment?

Loud calls for Sophy rang through the house, and Clement had onlytime to add—-

"Patience, dear child, and submission. They not only win the day, but are the best preparation for it when it is won. "

That family of girls had grown up to be a care to one who had trustedthat his calling would be a shield from worldly concerns; but heaccepted it as providential, and as a trust imposed on him ascertainly as Felix had felt the headship of the orphaned house. 

He was rejoiced to find on coming down-stairs that Lance had decidedon giving another day to family counsels, sending off little Felixwith his cousins, who would drop him at the junction to Stoneborough, whence he would be proud to travel alone. Clement took anotherresolution, in virtue of which he knocked at his sister's door beforeshe went down. 

"Cherry, " said he, "would it be inconvenient to keep Francie herejust for the present?"

"Not at all; it would be only too pleasant for Anna now that sheloses her brother. But why?"

"I want to hinder her from hearing the conclusions that her mothermay draw from the diversions of yesterday. "

"I see. It might soon be, 'He cometh not, she said. '"

"And Sophy will keep her counsel as to those moonlight wanderings. When were they to go?"

"By the 11. 30 train. Marilda is coming up first. "

So the plan was propounded. Franceska was only too much charmed tostay in what had indeed been an enchanted coast to her, and Sophy wassure that mamma would not mind; so the matter was settled, and theexplanatory notes written. 

The party set off, with each little boy hugging a ship in full sail, and the two young sisters were disposed of by a walk to Clipstone totalk over their adventures. Mrs. Grinstead felt certain of the goodmanners and reticence prevailing there to prevent any banter aboutLord Ivinghoe, and she secured the matter further by a hint to Anna. 

However, Miss Mohun was announced almost as they left the house. Shetoo was full of the bazaar, which seemed so long ago to her hearers, but with the result of which she was exceedingly delighted. Thevoluntary schools were secured for the present, and the gratitude ofthe Church folk was unbounded, especially to the Vale Leston family, who had contributed so greatly to the success of the whole. 

Jane too had watched the evening manoeuvres, and perceived, with hersharp eyes, all that was avowed and not avowed under that risingmoon. The pair of whom she had first to speak were "Ivanhoe andRowena, " as she called them, and she was glad to find that the "fairSaxon" had grown up at Vale Leston, educated by her aunt and sister, and imbibing no outside habits or impressions. 

"Poor child, " said Jane, "she looks like a flower; one is sorry itshould be meddled with. "

"So did my sister Stella, and there, contrary to all our fears, thecourse of true love did run smooth. "

"If it depended entirely on Rotherwood himself, I think it would, "said Jane, "but-—" She paused and went on, "Ivinghoe is, I fear, really volage, and he is the mark of a good many London mammas. "

"Is it true about Mrs. Henderson's sister?"

"There's nothing in it. I believe he danced with her a few times, and the silly little thing put her own construction on it, but hersister made her confess that he had never said a word to her, normade love in any sense. Indeed, my sister Adeline would never haveconsented to her coming here if she had believed in it, but Maura hasa Greek nature and turns the Whites round her fingers. Well, I hopeall will go well with your pretty Franceska. I should not like herlovely bloom to be faded by Ivinghoe. He is Rotherwood's own boy, though rather a prig, and a man in London. Oh, you know what thatmeans!"

"We have done _notre possible_ to keep our interpretation from thepoor child, or any hint of it from reaching her mother. "

"That's right. Poor Rowena, I hope the spark will be blown out, orremain only a pleasant recollection. As to little Maura, she had herlesson when she was reduced to hanging on Captain Henderson's otherarm! She is off to-day to meet Mr. White in London. That purposehas been served. "

"And have you not a nearer interest?"

"Oh, Gillian! Well, Captain Armytage did get hold of her, in what wemust now call the Lover's Walk! Yes, she has yielded, to herfather's great satisfaction and perhaps to her mother's, for she willbe more comfortable in looking forward to a commonplace life for herthan in the dread of modern aberrations. But Gillian is very funny, very much ashamed of having given in, and perfectly determined to goto her college and finish her education, which she may as well dowhile the Sparrow Hawk is at sea. He is off to-day, and she says sheis very glad to be rid of him. She sat down at once to her dynamite, as Primrose calls it, having bound over Mysie and Valetta never tomention the subject! I tell them that to obey in silence is the wayto serve the poor man best. "

Miss Mohun was interrupted by the announcement of Lady Flight and Mr. Flight, who came equally eager with delight and gratitude to thankthe House of Underwood for the triumph. The rest of the clergy ofRockquay and half the ladies might be expected, and in despair atlast of a "lucid interval, " Geraldine ordered the carriage for a longdrive into the country, so as to escape all visitors. Even then, they could not got up the hill without being stopped four or fivetimes to receive the thanks and compliments which nearly drove Geraldcrazy, so much did he want to hear what his family had to say to hisplans, that he had actually consented to partake of a dowager-drivein a landau!

He and his uncle had discovered from the police in the course of themorning that Ludmilla and her mother had not gone with the circus, but had been seen embarking in the Alice Jane, a vessel bound forLondon. His idea had been to hurry thither and endeavour to searchout his half-sister, and rescue her; but Lance had assured him notonly that it would probably be a vain quest, but that there would befull time to meet the Alice Jane by land before she could get thereby sea. 

To this he had yielded, but not so readily to the representation thatthe wisest way would be to keep out of sight; but to let Lance, as aless interested party, go and interview the van proprietor, whosedirection had been sent to Clement, try to see O'Leary, and do hisbest to bargain for Ludmilla's release, a matter on which all weredecided, whatever might be the upshot of the question respectingGerald. To leave a poor girl to circus training, even if there wereno interest in her, would have been shocking to right-minded people;but when it was such a circus as O'Leary's, and the maiden was sogood, sweet, and modest as Lida, the thought would have beenintolerable even without the connection with Gerald, who had beenmuch taken with all he had seen of her. 

"That is fixed, even if we have to bid high for our Mona, " saidLance. 

"By all means, " said Geraldine. "It will be another question whatwill be good for her when we have got her. "

"I will take care of that!" said Gerald. 

"Next, " Lance went on, "we must see what proofs, or if there be any, of this person's story. I expect one of you will have to pay wellfor them, but I had better take a lawyer with me. "

Clement named the solicitor who had the charge of the Vanderkistaffairs. 

"Better than Staples, or Bramshaw & Anderson. Yes, it would be bestto have no previous knowledge of the family, and no neighbourlyacquaintance. Moreover, I am not exactly an interested party, so Imay be better attended to. "

"Still I very much doubt, even if you do get any statement from thewoman, whether it can be depended upon without verification, " saidClement. 

"From the registers, if there are any at these places?"

"Exactly, and there must be personal inquiry. The first husband, Gian Benista, will have to be hunted down, dead or alive. "

"Yes; and another thing, " said Lance, "if the Italian marriage werebefore the revolution in Sicily, I expect the ecclesiastical ceremonywould be valid, but after that, the civil marriage would berequired. "

"Oh!" groaned Gerald, "if you would let me throw it all up withoutthese wretched quibbles. "

"Not your father's honour, " said his aunt. 

"Nor our honesty, " said Clement. "It is galling enough to have yourwhole position in life depend on the word of a worthless woman, butthere are things that must be taken patiently, as the will of One whoknows. "

"It is so hard to accept it as God's will when it comes of humansin, " said Geraldine. 

"Human thoughtlessness, " said Clement; "but as long as it is not byour own fault we can take it as providential, and above all, guardagainst impatience, the real ruin and destruction. "

"Yes, " said Lance, "sit on a horse's head when he is down to keep himfrom kicking. "

"So you all are sitting on my head, " said Gerald; "I shall get outand walk-—a good rush on the moors. "

"Wait at least to allow your head to take in my scheme, " saidClement. 

"Provided it is not sitting still, " said Gerald. 

"Far from it. Only it partly depends on my lady and mistress here-—"

"I guess, " said Geraldine. "You know I am disposed that way by Dr. Brownlow's verdict. "

"And 'that way' is that we go ourselves to try to trace out thisstrange allegation—-you coming too, Gerald, so that we shall notquite be sitting on your head. "

"But my sister?"

"We will see when we have recovered her, " said Mrs. Grinstead. 

"I would begin with a visit to Stella and her husband, " said Clement;"Charlie could put us in the way of dealing with consuls and vice-consuls. "

"Excellent, " cried his sister; "Anna goes of course, and I shouldlike to take Francie. It would be such an education for her. "

"Well, why not?"

"And what is to become of Adrian?"

"Well, we should not have been here more than six months of course. "

"I could take him, " said Lance, "unless Alda holds poor old Froggatt& Underwood beneath his dignity. "

"That can be considered, " said Clement; "it approves itself best tome, except that he is getting on so well here that I don't like todisturb him. "

"And when can you come up to town with me?" demanded Gerald;"tomorrow?"

"To-morrow being Saturday, it would be of little use to go. No, ifyou will not kick, master, I must go home to-morrow, and look up poor'Pur, ' also the organ on Sunday. Come with me, and renew youracquaintance. We will make an appointment with your attorney, Clem, and run up on Monday evening, see him on Tuesday. "

Gerald sighed, submitting perforce, and they let him out to exhale asmuch impatience as he could in a tramp over the hills, while they satand pitied him from their very hearts. 

CHAPTER XXV. DESDICHADO

'Perish wealth and power and pride, Mortal boons by mortals given; But let constancy abide—- Constancy's the gift of Heaven. -—SCOTT. 

Lancelot and Gerald did not obtain much by their journey to London. Gerald wanted to begin with Mr. Bast, van proprietor, but Lanceinsisted on having the lawyer's counsel first, and the adviceamounted to exhortations not to commit themselves, or to make offerssuch as to excite cupidity, especially in the matter of Ludmilla, butto dwell on the fact of her being so close to the age ofemancipation, and the illegality of tyrannical training. 

This, however, proved to be wasted advice. Mr. Bast was impervious. He undertook to forward a letter to Mr. O'Leary, but would not tellwhere, nor whether wife and daughter were with him. The letter waswritten, and in due time was answered, but with an intimation thatthe information desired could only be given upon the terms alreadymentioned; and refusing all transactions respecting the young ladymentioned, who was with her natural guardians and in no need ofintervention. 

They were baffled at all points, and the lawyer did not encourage anyidea of holding out a lure for information, which might easily betrumped up. Since Lancelot had discovered so much as that the firstmarriage had taken place at Messina, and the desertion at Trieste, aswell as that the husband was said to have been a native of Piedmont, he much recommended personal investigation at all these points, especially as Mr. Underwood could obtain the assistance and interestof consuls. It was likely that if neither uncle nor nephew madefurther demonstration, the O'Learys would attempt furthercommunication, which he and Lance could follow up. This might be aclue to finding "the young lady"—-to him a secondary matter, toGerald a vital one, but for the present nothing could be done forher, poor child. 

So they could only return to Rockquay to make immediate preparationsfor the journey. Matters were simplified by Miss Mohun, who, hearingthat Clement's doctors ordered him abroad for the winter, came to therescue, saying that she should miss Fergus and his lessons greatly, and she thought it would be a pity for Mrs. Edgar to lose theirlittle baronet, just after having given offence to certaininhabitants by a modified expulsion of Campbell and Horner, andtherefore volunteering to take Adrian for a few terms, look after hishealth, his morals, and his lessons, and treat him in fact like anephew, "to keep her hand in, " she said, "till the infants began toappear from India. "

This was gratefully accepted, and Alda liked the plan better thanplacing him at Bexley, which she continued to regard as anunwholesome place. The proposal to take Franceska was likewisewelcome, and the damsel herself was in transports of delight. Various arrangements had to be made, and it was far on in August thatthe farewells were exchanged with Clipstone and Beechcroft Cottage, where each member of the party felt that a real friend had beenacquired. The elders, ladies who had grown up in an enthusiasticage, were even more devoted to one another than were Anna and Mysie. Gillian stood a little aloof, resolved against "foolish" confidences, and devoting herself to studies for college life, in which she triedto swallow up all the feelings excited by those ship letters. 

Dolores had her secret, which was to be no longer a secret when shehad heard from her father, and in the meantime, with Gerald's fullconcurrence, she was about to work hard to qualify herself forlecturing or giving lessons on physical science. She could not enterthe college that she wished for till the winter term, and meant tospend the autumn in severe study. 

"We will work, " was the substance of those last words between them, and their parting tokens were characteristic, each giving the other alittle case of mathematical instruments, "We will work, and we willhope. "

"And what for?" said Dolores. 

"I should say for toil, if it could be with untarnished name, " saidGerald. 

"Name and fame are our own to make, " said Dolores, with sparklingeyes. 

This was their parting. Indeed they expected to meet at Christmas orbefore it, so soon as Mr. Maurice Mohun should have written. Geraldwas, by the unanimous wish of his uncles, to finish his terms atOxford. Whatever might be his fate, a degree would help him in life. 

He had accepted the decision, though he had rather have employed thetime in a restless search for his mother and sister; but after vainlypursuing two or three entertainments at fairs, he became amenable tothe conviction that they were more likely to hear something if theygave up the search and kept quiet, and both Dolores and Mrs. Henderson promised to be on the watch. 

The state of suspense proved an admirable tonic to the whole being ofthe young man. His listlessness had departed, and he did everythingwith an energy he had never shown before. Only nothing would inducehim to go near Vale Leston, and he made it understood that histwenty-first birthday was to be unnoticed. Not a word passed betweenGerald and his aunt as to the cause of the journey, and the doubtthat hung over him, but nothing could be more assiduous and tenderthan his whole conduct to her and his uncle throughout the journey, as though he had no object in life but to save them trouble and makethem comfortable. 

The party started in August, travelled very slowly, and he was thekindest squire to the two girls, taking them to see everything, andbeing altogether, as Geraldine said, the most admirable courier inthe world, with a wonderful intuition as to what she individuallywould like to see, and how she could see it without fatigue. Moreover, on the Sunday that occurred at a little German town, it wasthe greatest joy to her that he sought no outside gaiety, but ratherseemed to cling to his uncle's home ministrations, and even to herreadings of hymns. They had a quiet walk together, and it was a dayof peace when his gentle kindness put her in mind of his father, yetwith a regretful depth she had always missed in Edgar. 

Nor was there any of that old dreary, half-contemptuous tone andmanner which had often made her think he was only conforming toplease her, and shrinking from coming to close quarters, where hemight confess opinions that would grieve her. He was manifestly inearnest, listening and joining in the services as if they had a newforce to him. Perhaps they had the more from the very absence of theordinary externals, and with nothing to disturb the individualpersonality of Clement's low, earnest, and reverent tones. Therewere tears on his eyelashes as he rose up, bent over, and kissed hisCherie. And that evening, while Clement and the two nieces walkedfarther, and listened to the Benediction in the little Austrianchurch, Gerald sat under a linden-tree with his aunt, and in thefullness of his heart told her how things stood between him andDolores. 

Geraldine had never been as much attracted by Dolores as by Gillianand Mysie, but she was greatly touched by hearing that the meetingand opening of affection had been on the discovery that Gerald wasprobably nameless and landless, and that the maiden was bent oncasting in her lot with him whatever his fate might be. 

He murmured to himself the old lines, with a slight alteration—-

 "I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not justice more. "

"Yes, indeed, Cherie, our affection is a very different and betterthing than it would be if I were only the rich young squire sure ofmy position. "

"I am sure it is, my dear. I honour and love her for being my boy'sbrave comforter—-comforter in the true sense. I see now what hashelped you to be so brave and cheery. But what will her father say?"

"He will probably be startled, and—-and will object, but it would bea matter of waiting anyway, the patience that the Vicar preaches, andwe have made up our minds. I'll fight my own way; she to prepare byher Cambridge course to come and work with me, as we can do so muchbetter among the people—-among them in reality, and by no pretence. "

"Ah! don't speak as if you gave up your cause. "

"Well, I won't, if you don't like to hear it, Cherie, " he said, smiling; "but anyway you will be good to Dolores. "

"Indeed I will do my best, my dear. I am sure you and she, whateverhappens, have the earnest purpose and soul to do all the good youcan, whether from above or on the same level, and that makes theoneness of love. "

"Thank you, Cherie carissima. You see the secret of our true bond. "

"One bond to make it deeper must be there. The love of God beneaththe love of man. "

CHAPTER XXVI. THE SILENT STAR

Then the traveller in the darkThanks you for your tiny spark;He would not know which way to goIf you did not twinkle so. -—JANE TAYLOR. 

And so they came to Buda, where Charles Audley represented Englishdiplomatic interests on the banks of the Danube. When the quaint oldsemi-oriental-looking city came in sight and the train stopped, theneat English-looking carriage, with gay Hungarian postillions, couldbe seen drawn up to meet them outside the station. 

Charles and his father, now Sir Robert, were receiving them withoutstretched hands and joyous words, and in a few seconds more theywere with their little Stella! Yes, their little Stella still, asClement and Cherry had time to see, when Gerald and the two girls hadinsisted on walking, however far it might be, with the two Audleys, though Charlie told them that no one ever walked in Hungary who couldhelp it, and that he should be stared at for bringing such strangeanimals. 

Geraldine had stayed with Stella once before, and Clement had madeone hurried and distressful rush in the trouble about Angela; butthat was at Munich, and nearly nine years ago, before the manychanges and chances of life had come to them. To Stella those yearshad brought two little boys, whose appearance in the world had beendelayed till the Audley family had begun to get anxious for an heir, but while the Underwoods thought it was well that their parents, especially their father, should have time to grow a little older. 

And Stella looked as daintily, delicately pretty as ever, at firstsight like a china shepherdess to be put under a glass shade, but ona second view, with a thoughtful sweetness and depth in her face thatmade her not merely pretty but lovely. How happy she was, gazing ather brother and sister, and now and then putting a question to bringout the overflow of home news, so dear to her. For she was stilltheir silent star, making very few words evince her intense interestand sympathy. 

Even when they were at home, in the house that looked outside like acastle in a romance, but which was so truly English within, and thetwo little fellows of four and three came toddling to meet her, shrinking into her skirts at sight of the new uncle and aunt, therewas a quiet gentle firmness—-all the old Stella-—in her dealings withthem, as she drew them to kiss and greet the strangers. Robbie andTheodore were sturdy, rosy beings, full of life, but perfectlyamenable to that sweet low voice. Their father and grandfather mightromp with them to screaming pitch, and idolize them almost tospoiling, yet they too were under that gentle check which the youngwife exercised on all around. 

She was only thirty-one, and so small, so fair and young in looks, that to her elder sister her pretty matronly rule _would_ at firstseem like the management of a dolls' house, even though her servants, English, German, or Magyar, obeyed her implicitly; and for thatmatter, as Charlie and Sir Robert freely and merrily avowed, so didthey. The young secretary was her bounden slave, and held her as theideal woman, though there came to be a little swerving of hisallegiance towards the tall and beautiful Franceska, who hadinsensibly improved greatly in grace and readiness on her travels, and quite dazzled the Hungarians; while Anna was immensely exultant, and used to come to her aunt's room every night to talk of her lovelyFrancie as a safety-valve from discussing the matter with Francieherself, who remained perfectly simple and unconscious of her owncharms. Geraldine could not think them quite equal to the moreexquisite and delicately-finished, as well as more matured, beauty oflittle Stella, but that was a matter of taste. 

The household was more English than Hungarian, or even German, andthere were curious similitudes to the Vale Leston Prioryarrangements, which kept Stella's Underwood heart in mind. There hadto be receptions, and it was plain that when she put Fernan'sdiamonds on, Mrs. Audley was quite at home and at perfect ease inGerman and Hungarian society, speaking the languages withouthesitation when she _did_ speak, while in her quiet way keeping everyone entertained, showing the art de tenir un salon, and moreover, preserving Francie from obtrusive admiration in a way perhaps learntby experience on that more perilous subject, Angela, who had invitedwhat Francie shrank from. The two girls were supremely happy, andFrancie seemed to have a fountain of joy that diffused a rose-coloured spray over everything. 

One of the famous concerts of Hungarian gipsies was given, and inthat Clement and Geraldine were alike startled by tones recallingthose of the memorable concert at Bexley, all the more because theyseemed to have a curious fascination for Gerald. Moreover, thosepeculiar eyes and eyelashes, the first link observed between him andthe Little Butterfly, were so often repeated in the gipsy band thatit was plain whence they were derived. Charles Audley thought itworth while to find means of inquiry among the gipsies as to whetheranything was known of Zoraya Prebel or her brother Sebastian; butafter some delay and various excitements nothing was discovered, butthat there had been a family, who were esteemed recreants to theirrace, and had sold their children to the managers of German orItalian bands of musicians. One brother had come back a broken man, who had learnt vices and ruined himself, though he talked largely ofhis wonderful success in company with his sister, who had made grandmarriages. What had become of her he did not know; and when Geraldwent with Mr. Audley to a little mountain valley to visit him, he hadbeen dead for a week or more. 

All this had made some delay, and it was almost the end of the longvacation. Charles Audley undertook to go to Trieste with thetravellers, and make inquiries about Zoraya and her first husband. Sir Robert, the Skipper, as the family still termed him, had writtenfor his yacht to meet him there, and be ready for him to convey theparty to Sicily. He professed that he could not lose sight ofFranceska, with whom he declared himself nearly as much smitten asever he had been with his daughter-in-law. 

They left that pretty creature in her happy home, and arrived atTrieste, where Charles Audley set various agencies to work, andarrived at a remembrance of Giovanni Benista, an impresario, havingbeen in a state of great fury at his wife, his most able performer, having fled from him just as he had been at the expense of trainingand making her valuable. He tried to have her pursued, but there wasreason to think that she had been smuggled away in an English orAmerican ship, and nothing could be done. 

Thus much of the story then was confirmed, and Gerald had little orno doubt of the rest of it, but he was obliged to leave the pursuitof the quest to his uncle and aunt, being somewhat consoled forhaving to return to England by the expectation of hearing from Mr. Maurice Mohun. 

Twice he returned for his aunt's last kiss, nay, even a third time, and then with the half-choked words, "My true, my dearest mother!"

And he absolutely bent his knee as he asked for his uncle Clement'sblessing. 

CHAPTER XXVII. THE RED MANTLE

And deemed themselves a shameful partOf pageant which they cursed in heart. —-SCOTT. 

Dolores was waiting till the Christmas term to go to her college. The fame of her volcanic lectures had reached Avoncester, and she wasentreated to repeat them at the High School there. The Mouse-traphad naturally been sent to Miss Vincent, the former governess, whohad become head-mistress of the High School at Silverton, and shewrote an urgent request that her pupils might have the advantage ofthe lectures. Would Dolores come and give her course there, and staya few days with her, reviving old times?

Dolores consented, being always glad of an opportunity of trying herwings, though she had not the pleasantest recollections connectedwith Silverton, but she would be really glad to see Miss Vincent, whohad been always kind to her. So she travelled up to Silverton, andfound the head-mistress living in cheerful rooms, with another of theteachers in the same house, all boarding together, but with separatesitting-rooms. 

Dolores' first walk was to see Miss Hackett. It was quite startlingto find the good old lady looking exactly the same as when she hadcome to luncheon at Silverfold, and arranged for G. F. S. , and weaklystood up for her sister nine years previously, those years whichseemed ages long ago to the maiden who had made the round of theworld since, while the lady had only lived in her Casement Cottage, and done almost the same things day by day. 

There was one exception, however, Constance had married a uniondoctor in the neighbourhood. She came into Silverton to see her oldacquaintance, and looked older and more commonplace than Dolorescould have thought possible, and her talk was no longer of books andromances, but of smoking chimneys, cross landlords, and troublesomecooks, and the wicked neglects of her vicar's and her squire's wife. As Dolores walked back to Silverton, she heard drums and trumpets, and was nearly swept away by a rushing stream of little boys andgirls. Then came before her an elephant, with ornamental housing andhowdah, and a train of cars, meant to be very fine, but way-worn andbattered, with white and piebald steeds, and gaudy tinselly drivers, and dames in scarlet and blue, much needing a washing, distributingcoloured sheets about the grand performance to take place that nightat eight o'clock, of the Sepoy's Death Song and the Bleeding Bride. 

Miss Vincent had asked Miss Hackett to supper, and prepared herselfand her fellow-teacher, Miss Calton, for a pleasant evening of talk, but to her great surprise, Dolores expressed her intention of goingto the performance at the circus. 

"My dear, " said Miss Vincent, "this is a very low affair-—notSanger's, nor anything so respectable. They have been here before, and the lodging-house people went and were quite shocked. "

"Yes, " said Dolores, "but that is all the more reason I want to go. There is a girl with them in whom we are very much interested. Shewas kidnapped from Rockquay at the time this circus was there. Atleast I am almost sure it is the same, and I must see if she isthere. "

"But if she is you cannot do anything. "

"Yes, I can; I can let her brother know. It must be done, MissVincent. I have promised, and it is of fearful consequence. "

"Should you know her?"

"Oh yes. I have often talked to her in Mrs. Henderson's class. I could not mistake her. "

Miss Hackett was so much horrified at the notion of a G. F. S. "business girl" being in bondage to a circus, that she gallantlyvolunteered to go with Miss Mohun, and Miss Vincent could onlyconsent. 

The place of the circus was an open piece of ground lying betweenSilverton and Silverfold, and thither they betook themselves-—MissHackett in an old bonnet and waterproof that might have belonged toany woman, and Dolores wearing a certain crimson ulster, which shehad bought in Auckland for her homeward voyage, and which her cousinshad chosen to dub as "the Maori. " After a good deal of jostling andmuch scent of beer and bad tobacco they achieved an entrance, and satupon a hard bench, half stifled with the odours, to which were addedthose of human and equine nature and of paraffin. As to theperformance, Dolores was too much absorbed in looking out forLudmilla, together with the fear that Miss Hackett might either faintor grow desperate, and come away, to attend much to it; and she onlywas aware that there was a general scurrying, in which the horses andthe elephant took their part; and that men and scantily dressedfemales put themselves in unnatural positions; that there was afiring of pistols and singing of vulgar songs, and finally the heroand heroine made their bows on the elephant's back. 

Miss Hackett wanted to depart before the Bleeding Bride came on, butDolores entreated her to stay, and she heroically endured a littlelonger. This seemed, consciously or not, to be a parody of theballad of Lord Thomas and Fair Annet, but of course it began with anabduction on horseback and a wild chase, in which even the elephantdid his part, and plenty more firing. Then the future bride came on, supposed to be hawking, during which pastime she sang a song standingupright on horseback, and the faithless Lord Thomas appeared andcourted her with the most remarkable antics of himself and hispiebald steed. 

The forsaken Annet consoled herself with careering about, taking alast leave of her beloved steed—-a mangy-looking pony-—and performingvarious freaks with it, then singing a truculent song of revenge, inpursuance of which she hid herself to await the bridal procession. And as the bride came on, among her attendants Dolores detectedunmistakably those eyes of Gerald's! She squeezed Miss Hackett'shand, and saw little more of the final catastrophe. Somehow thebride was stabbed, and fell screaming, while the fair Annet executeda war dance, but what became of her was uncertain. All Dolores knewwas, that Ludmilla was there! She had recognized not only the eyes, but the air and figure. 

When they got free of the crowd, which was a great distress to poorMiss Hackett, Dolores said—-

"Yes, it is that poor girl! She must be saved!"

"How? What can you do?"

"I shall telegraph to her brother. You will help me, Miss Hackett?"

"But-—what-—who is her brother?" said Miss Hackett, expecting to hearhe was a carpenter perhaps, or at least a clerk. 

"Mr. Underwood of Vale Leston-—Gerald Underwood, " answered Dolores. "His father made an unfortunate marriage with a singer. She reallyis his half-sister, and I promised to do all I could to help him tofind her and save her. He is at Oxford. I shall telegraph to himthe first thing to-morrow. "

There was nothing in this to object to, and Miss Hackett would not bepersuaded not to see her to the door of Miss Vincent's lodgings, though lengthening her own walk—-alone, a thing more terrible to herold-fashioned mind than to that of her companion. 

Dolores wrote her telegram—-

"Dolores Mohun, Valentia, Silverton, to Gerald Underwood, TrinityCollege, Oxford. Ludmilla here. Circus. Come. "

She sent it with the more confidence that she had received a letterfrom her father with a sort of conditional consent to her engagementto Gerald, so that she could, if needful, avow herself betrothed tohim; though her usual reticence made her unwilling to put the matterforward in the present condition of affairs. She went out to thepost-office at the first moment when she could hope to find thetelegraph office at work, and just as she had turned from it, she meta girl in a dark, long, ill-fitting jacket and black hat, with abasket in her hand. 

"Lydia!" exclaimed Dolores, using the old Rockquay name. 

"Miss Dolores!" she cried. 

"Yes, yes. You are here! I saw you last night. "

"Me! Me! Oh, I am ashamed that you did. Don't tell Mr. Flight. "

There were tears starting to her eyes. 

"Can I do anything for you?"

"No—-no. Oh, if you could! But they have apprenticed me. "

"Who have?"

"My mother and Mr. O'Leary. "

"Are they here?"

"Yes. They wanted money-—apprenticed me to this Jellicoe! I mustmake haste. They sent me out to take something to the wash, and buysome fresh butter. They must not guess that I have met any one. "

"I will walk with you. I have been telegraphing to your brother thatI have found you. "

"Oh, he was so good to me! And Mr. Flight, I was so grieved to failhim. They made me get up and dress in the night, and before I knewwhat I was about I was on the quay—-carried out to the ship. I hadno paper-—no means of writing; I was watched. And now it is toodreadful! Oh, Miss Dolores! if Mrs. Henderson could see the cruelpositions they try to force on me, the ways they handle me-—they hurtso; and what is worse, no modest girl could bear the way they go on, and want me to do the same. I could when I was little, but I amstiffer now, and oh! ashamed. If I can't—-they starve me—-yes, andbeat me, and hurt me with their things. It is bondage like theIsraelites, and I don't want to get to like it, as they say I shall, for then-—then there are those terrible songs to be sung, and thatshocking dress to be shown off in. My mother will not help. Shesays it is what she went through, and all have to do, and that Ishall soon leave off minding; but oh, I often think I had rather diethan grow like-—like Miss Bellamour. I hope I shall (they oftenfrighten me with that horse), only somehow I can't wish to be killedat the moment, and try to save myself. And once I thought I wouldlet myself fall, rather than go on with it, but I thought it would bewicked, and I couldn't. But I have prayed to God to help me andspare me; and now He has heard. And will my brother be able—-or willhe choose to help me?"

"I am sure of it, my poor dear girl. He wishes nothing more. "

"Please turn this way. They must not see me speak to any one. "

"One word more. How long is the circus to be here?"

"We never know; it depends on the receipts—-may go to-morrow. Oh, there-—"

She hurried on without another word, and Dolores slowly returned toMiss Vincent's lodgings. Her lecture was to be given at threeo'clock, but she knew that she should have to be shown the school andclass-rooms in the forenoon. Gerald, as she calculated the trains, might arrive either by half-past twelve or a quarter past four. 

Nervously she endured her survey of the school, replying to thecomments as if in a dream, and hurrying it over, so as must havevexed those who expected her to be interested. She dashed off to thestation, and reached it just in time to see the train come in. Wasit—-yes, it was Gerald who sprang out and came towards her. 

"Dolores! My gallant Dolores! You have found her!"

"Yes, but in cruel slavery-—apprenticed. "

"That can be upset. Her mother-—is she here?"

"Yes, and O'Leary. They sold her, apprenticed her, and these peopleuse her brutally. She told me this morning. No, I don't think youcan get at her now. "

"I will see her mother at any rate. I may be able to buy her off. Where shall I find you?"

Dolores told him, but advised him to meet her at Miss Hackett's, whomshe thought more able to help, and more willing than Miss Vincent, incase he was able to bring Ludmilla away with him. 

"Have you heard from my father?"

"Yes—-what I expected. "

"But it will make no difference in the long run. "

"Dearest, do I not trust your brave words? From Trieste I hear thatthe endeavour of Benista to recover his wife is proved. There's onestep of the chain. Is it dragging us down, or setting us free?"

"Free-—free from the perplexities of property, " cried Dolores. "Freeto carve out a life. "

"Certainly I have wished I was a younger son. Only if it could havecome in some other way!"

Dolores had to go to luncheon at Miss Vincent's, and then to deliverher lecture. It was well that she had given it so often as almost toknow it by heart, for the volcano of anxiety was surging high withinher. 

As she went out she saw Gerald waiting for her, and his whole mienspoke of failure. 

"Failed! Yes, " he said. "The poor child is regularly bound to thatJellicoe, the master of the concern, for twenty-five pounds, the finethat my uncle brought on the mother, as O'Leary said with a grin, andshe is still under sixteen. "

"Is there no hope till then?"

"He and O'Leary declare there would be breach of contract if she leftthem even then. I don't know whether they are right, but any amountof mischief might be done before her birthday. They talk of sendingher to Belgium to be trained, and that is fatal. "

"Can't she be bought off?"

"Of course I tried, but I can't raise more than seventy pounds at theutmost just now. "

"I could help. I have twenty-three pounds. I could give up myterm. "

"No use. They know that I shall not be of age till January, besidesthe other matter. I assured them that however that might end, myuncles would honour any order I might give for the sake of rescuingher, but they laughed the idea to scorn. O'Leary had the impudenceto intimate, however, that if I chose to accept the terms expressed, 'his wife might be amenable. '"

"They are?"

"Five hundred for evidence on the previous marriage in my favour; butI am past believing a word that she says, at least under O'Leary'sdictation. She might produce a forgery. So I told him that my unclewas investigating the matter with the consul in Sicily; and theintolerable brutes sneered more than over at the idea of the questionbeing in the hands of the interested party, when they could upsetthat meddling parson in a moment. "

"Can nothing be done?"

"I thought of asking one of your old ladies whether there is a lawyeror Prevention of Cruelty man who could tell me whether the agreementholds, but I am afraid she is too old. You saw no mark of ill-usage?"

"Oh no. They would be too cunning. "

"If we could help her to escape what a lark it would be!"

"I do believe we could" cried Dolores. "If I could only get a noteto her! And this red ulster! I wonder if Miss Hackett would help!"

Dolores waited for Miss Hackett, who had lingered behind, and toldher as much of the facts as was expedient. There was a spice ofromance in the Hackett soul, and the idea of a poor girl, a G. F. S. Maiden, in the hands of these cruel and unscrupulous people was sodreadful that she was actually persuaded to bethink herself of meansof assistance. 

"Where did you meet the girl?" she said. Dolores told her thestreet. 

"Ah! depend upon it the things were with Mrs. Crachett, who I knowhas done washing for people about on fair-days, when they can't do itthemselves. She has a daughter in my G. F. S. Class; I wonder if wecould get any help from her. "

It was a very odd device for a respectable associate and member ofG. F. S. To undertake, but if ever the end might justify the meansit was on the present occasion. Fortune favoured them, for MelindaCrachett was alone in the house, ironing out some pale pink garments. 

"Are you washing for those people on the common, Melinda?" asked MissHackett. 

"Yes, Miss Hackett. They want them by seven o'clock to-night veryparticular, and they promised me a seat to see the performance, miss, if I brought them in good time, and I wondered, miss, if you wouldobject. "

"Only tell me, Melinda, whom you saw. "

"I saw the lady herself, ma'am, the old lady, when I took thethings. "

"No young person?"

"Yes, ma'am. It was a very nice young lady indeed that brought medown this pink tunic, because it got stained last night, and she saidher orders was to promise me a ticket if it came in time; but, oh my!ma'am, she looked as if she wanted to tell me not to come. "

"Poor girl! She is a G. F. S. Member, Melinda, and I do believe youwould be doing a very good deed if you could help us to get her awayfrom those people. "

Melinda's eyes grew round with eagerness. She had no doubtsrespecting what Miss Hackett advised her to do, and there was nothingfor it but to take the risk. Then and there Dolores sat down andpencilled a note, directing Ludmilla to put on the red ulster afterher performance, if possible, when people were going away, and slipout among them, joining Melinda, who would convey her to MissHackett's. This was safer than for Gerald to be nearer, since he wasliable to be recognized. Still it was a desperate risk, and Doloreshad great doubts whether she should ever see her red Maori again. 

So in intense anxiety the two waited in Miss Hackett's parlour, wherethe good lady left them, as she said, to attend to her accounts, butreally with an inkling or more of the state of affairs between them. Each had heard from New Zealand, and knew that Maurice Mohun wassuspending his consent till he had heard farther from home, both asto Gerald's character and prospects, and there was no such absoluterefusal, even in view of his overthrow of the young man's position, as to make it incumbent on them to break off intercourse. Colonialhabits modified opinion, and to know that the loss was neither theyouth's own fault nor that of his father, would make the acceptance aquestion of only prudence, provided his personal character weresatisfactory. Thus they felt free to hold themselves engaged, thoughGerald had further to tell that his letters from Messina purportedthat an old priest had been traced out who had married theimpresario, Giovanni Benista, a native of Piedmont, to Zoraya Prebel, Hungarian, in the year 1859, when ecclesiastical marriages were stillvalid without the civil ceremony. 

"Another step in my descent, " said Gerald. "Still, it does not provewhether this first husband was alive. No; and Piedmont, though asmall country, is a wide field in which to seek one who may have cutall connection with it. However, these undaunted people of mine areresolved to pursue their quest, and, as perhaps you have heard, areinvited to stay at Rocca Marina for the purpose. "

"I should think that was a good measure; Mr. White gets quarry-menfrom all the country round, and would be able to find out about thevillages. "

"But how unlikely it is that one of these wanderers would have keptup intercourse with his family! They may do their best to satisfythe general conscience, but I see no end to it. "

"And a more immediate question—-what are we to do with your sister ifshe escapes to-night? Shall I take her to Mrs. Henderson?"

"She would not be safe there. No, I must carry her straight toAmerica, the only way to choke off pursuit. "

"You! Your term!"

"Never mind that. I shall write to the Warden pleading urgentprivate business. I have enough in hand for our passage, and the'Censor' will take my articles and give me an introduction. I shallbe able to keep myself and her. I have a real longing to seeFiddler's Ranch. "

"But can you rough it?" asked Dolores, anxiously looking at hisdelicate girlish complexion and slight figure. 

"Oh yes! I was born to it. I know what it was when Fiddler's Ranchwas far from the civilization of Violinia, as they call it now. Idon't mean to make a secret of it, and grieve your heart or Cherie's. She has had enough of that, but I must make the plunge to save mysister, and if things come round it will be all the better to havesome practical knowledge of the masses and the social problems byliving among them. "

"Oh that I could make the experiment with you!"

"You will be my inspiration and encouragement, and come to me in duetime. "

He came round to her, and she let him give her his first kiss. 

"God will help us, " she said reverently; "it is the cause ofuprightness and deliverance from cruel bondage. "

The plans had been settled; Gerald had arranged with a cab which wasto take him and his sister to a house five miles out in the country, of which Miss Hackett had given the name, so that they might seem tohave been spending the evening with her. Thence it was but a step tothe station of a different railway from that which went throughSilverton, and they would go by the mail train to London, whereLudmilla could be deposited at Mrs. Grinstead's house at Brompton, where Martha could provide her with an outfit, while Gerald saw theeditor of the 'Censor', got some money from the bank, telegraphed toOxford for his baggage, and made ready to start the next morning forLiverpool, whither he had telegraphed to secure a second-classpassage to New York for G. F. Wood and Lydia Wood, the names which hemeant to be called by. 

"The first name I knew, " he said, "the name of Tom Wood, is far morereal to me or my father than Edgar Underwood ever could be. "

He promised that Dolores should have a telegram at Clipstone by thetime she reached it, for she had to give her second lecture the nextday, and was to return afterwards. All this had been discussed overand over again, and there had been many quakings and declarationsthat the scheme had failed, and that neither girl could have hadcourage, nor perhaps adroitness, and that the poor prisoner had beenre-captured. Gerald had made more than one expedition into thelittle garden to listen, and had filled the house with cold airbefore he returned, sat down in a resigned fashion, and declared—-

"It is all up! That comes of trusting to fools of girls. "

"Hark!"

He sprang up and out into the vestibule. Miss Hackett opened thedoor into the back passage. There stood the "red mantle" and MelindaCrachett. Gerald took the trembling figure in his arms with abrotherly kiss. 

"My little sister, " he said, "look to me, " then gave her to Dolores, who led her into the drawing-room, and put her into an arm-chair. 

She could hardly stand, but tried to jump up as Miss Hackett entered. 

"No, no, my poor child, she said, "sit still! Rest. Were youfollowed?"

"No; I don't think they had missed me. "

She was so breathless that Miss Hackett would have given her a glassof wine, but she shook her head, "Oh no, thank you! I've kept the pledge. "

The tea-things were there, waiting for her arrival. Dolores wouldhave helped her take off the red garment, but she shrank from it. She had only her gaudy theatrical dress beneath. How was she to goto London in it? However, Miss Hackett devised that she shouldborrow the little maid-servant's clothes, and Gerald undertook tosend them back when Martha should have fitted her out at Brompton. The theatrical costume Miss Hackett would return by a messengerwithout implicating Melinda Crachett. They took the girl up-stairsto effect the change, and restore her as much as they could, and shecame down with her rouge washed off, and very pale, but looking likeherself, as, poor thing, she always did look more or less frightened, and now with tears about her eyelids, tears that broke forth asGerald went up to her, took her by the hand, and said—-

"Brighten up, little sister; you have given yourself to me, and Imust take care of you now. "

"Ah, I do beg your pardon, but my poor mother—-I didn't know—-"

"You don't want to go back?"

"Oh no, no, " and she shuddered again; "but I am sorry for her. Shehas such a hard master, and she used to be good to me. "

Miss Hackett had come opportunely to make her drink some tea, andthen made both take food enough to sustain them through the nightjourney. Then, and afterwards, they gathered what had beenLudmilla's sad little story. Her father, in spite of his marriage, which was according to the lax notions of German Protestants, hadbeen a fairly respectable man, very fond of his little daughter, andexceedingly careful of her, though even as a tiny child he had madeher useful, trained her to singing and dancing, and brought herforward as a charming little fairy, when it was all play to her. 

"Oh, we were so happy in those days, " she said tearfully. 

When he died it was with an injunction to his wife not to bring upLudmilla to the stage now that he was not there to take care of her. With the means he had left she had set up her shop at Rockquay, andthough she had never been an affectionate mother, Ludmilla had beenfairly happy, and had been a favourite with Mr. Flight and the schoolauthorities, and had been thoroughly imbued with their spirit. Achange had, however, come over her mother ever since an expedition toAvoncester, when she had met O'Leary. She had probably alwayscontrived a certain amount of illicit trade in tobacco and spirits bymeans of the sailors in the foreign traders who put into the littleharbour of Rockquay; but her daughter was scarcely cognizant of this, and would not have understood the evil if she had done so, nor did itaffect her life. O'Leary had, however, been the clown in Mr. Schnetterling's troupe, and had become partner with Jellicoe. Thesight of him revived all Zoraya's Bohemian inclinations, and on hisside he knew her to have still great capabilities, and recollectedenough of her little daughter to be sure that she would be a valuablepossession. Moreover, Mrs. Schnetterling had carried her contrabandtraffic a little too far, especially where the boys of thepreparatory school were concerned. She began to fear the gauger andthe policeman, and she had consented to marry O'Leary at theAvoncester register office, meaning to keep the matter a secret untilshe could wind up her affairs at Rockquay. Even her daughter waskept in ignorance. 

Two occurrences had, however, precipitated matters. One was the stirthat Clement had made about the school-boys' festival, ending in thefine being imposed; the other, the discovery that the graceful, well-endowed young esquire was the child who had been left to probablebeggary with a dying father twenty years previously. 

Jellicoe, the principal owner of the circus, advanced the money forthe fine, on condition of the girl and her mother becoming attachedto the circus; and the object of O'Leary was to make as much profitas possible out of the mystery that hung over the young heir of ValeLeston. His refusal to attend to the claim on him, together withspite at his uncle, as having brought about the prosecution, and toMr. Flight for hesitating to remunerate the girl for the performancethat was to have been free; perhaps too certain debts anddifficulties, all conspired to occasion the midnight flitting in sucha manner as to prevent the circus from being pursued. 

Thenceforth poor Lida's life had been hopeless misery, with all herwomanly and religious instincts outraged, and the probability ofworse in future. Jellicoe, his wife, and O'Leary had no pity, andher mother very little, and no principle; and she had no hope, exceptthat release might come by some crippling accident. Workhouse orhospital would be deliverance, since thence she could write to Mrs. Henderson. 

She shook and trembled still lest she should be pursued, though MissHackett assured her that this was the last place to be suspected, andit was not easy to make her eat. Presently Gerald stood ready totake her to the cab. 

Dolores came to the gate with them. There was only space for afervent embrace and "God bless you!" and then she stood watching asthey went away into the night. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. ROCCA MARINA

There was of course in Adeline A calm patrician polish in the address, Which ne'er can pass the equinoctial line Of anything which nature could express. —-BYRON. 

It was a late autumn or winter day, according to the calendar, whenThe Morning Star steamed up to the quay of Rocca Marina, but it washard to believe it, for all the slope of one of the Maritime Alps laystretched out basking in the noonday sunshine, green and lovely, wherever not broken by the houses below, or the rocks quarried out onthe mountain side. Some snow lay on the further heights, enough tomark their forms, and contrast with the soft sweetness of the lap ofthe hills and the glorious Mediterranean blue. 

Anna and Franceska stood watching and exclaiming in a trance ofdelight, as one beauty after another revealed itself-—the castellatedremnant of the old tower, the gabled house with stone balconies andterraces, with parapets and vases below, the little white spire ofthe church tower of the English colony, looking out of the chestnutand olive groves above, and the three noble stone pines thatsheltered the approach. 

Mr. White, in his launch, came out with exulting and hearty welcometo bring them ashore, through the crowd of feluccas, fishing-vessels, and one or two steamers that filled the tiny bay, and on landing, theparty found an English wagonette drawn by four stout mules waiting toreceive them—-mules, as being better for the heights than horses. 

Anna and Franceska insisted on walking with Mr. White and Sir Robert, and they fairly frisked in the delicious air of sea and mountainafter being so long cramped on board ship, stopping continually withscreams of delight over violets or anemones, or the views thatunfolded themselves as they went higher and higher. The path Mr. White chose was a good deal steeper than the winding carriage roadcut out of the mountain side, and they arrived before the mules withMrs. Grinstead and her brother, at the Italian garden, with asuccession of broad terraces protected and adorned with openbalustrades, with vases of late blooming flowers at intervals, andbroad stone steps, guarded by carved figures, leading from one toanother. 

"It is like Beauty's palace, " sighed out in delight Francie to hersister. 

"There's Beauty, " laughed Anna, as at the open window upon thehighest verandah-shaded balcony appeared the darkly handsome Mauraand Mrs. White, her small features as pretty as ever, but her figurea good deal more embonpoint than in Rockquay times. 

Hers was a very warm welcome to the two sisters and their friend, andto the others who reached the front door a few minutes later. Suchan arrival was very pleasant to her, for it must be confessed that, save for the English visitors, who were always gladly received, thelife at Rocca Marina was a dull one, in spite of its being nearenough to San Remo by the railway for expeditions for a day. 

Within, the dwelling was a combination of the old Italian palace withEnglish comforts. Mr. White, in his joy at possessing his gracefullady wife, had spared no expense in making it a meet bower for her, and Geraldine was as much amused as fascinated by the exquisitenessof all around her; as she sat, in a most luxurious chair, looking outthrough the open window at the blue sea, yet with a lively wood fireburning under a beauteous mantelpiece; statues, pictures, all thatwas recherche around, while they drank their English tea out ofalmost transparently delicate cups, filled by Maura out of abeautifully chased service of plate on a marble mosaic table. 

"And now you must let me show you your rooms, " said Mrs. White. "Ithought you would like to have them en suite, for I am such a poorcreature that I cannot breakfast down-stairs, and Mr. White isobliged to be out early. "

So she led the way through a marble hall, pillared in differentcolours, rich and rare, with portraits of ancient Contes andContessas on the walls, up a magnificent stone stair with a carvedbalustrade, to a suite indeed, where, at the entrance, Sibby wasfound very happy at her welcome from Mrs. Mount, who was equally gladto receive a countrywoman. 

There was a sitting-room with a balcony looking out on the bay, astudy and bedroom beyond for Clement on one side, and on the othercharmingly fitted rooms for Geraldine, for her nieces, and her maid;and Mrs. White left them, telling them the dinner hour, and beggingthem to call freely and without scruple for all and everything theycould wish for. Nothing would be any trouble. 

"We have even an English doctor below there, " she said, pointing tothe roofs of the village. "There are so many accidents that Mr. White thought it better to be provided, so we have a little hospitalwith a trained nurse. "

It was all very good, very kind, yet the very family likeness toLilias Merrifield and Jane Mohun made Geraldine think how much moresimple in manner one of them would have been without that nouveauriche tone of exultation. 

"Here is a whole packet of letters, " ended Mrs. White, "that came foryou these last two or three days. "

She pointed to a writing-table and went away, while the first lettersso amazed Geraldine that she could think of nothing else, andhastened to summon Clement. 

It was from Gerald, posted by the pilot from on board the steamer, very short, and only saying—-

"DEAREST CHERIE, "I know you will forgive me, or rather see that I do not need pardonfor rescuing my sister. Anywhere in England she would be in dangerof being reclaimed to worse than death. Dolores will tell you allthe situation, and I will send a letter as soon as we arrive at NewYork. No time for more, except that I am as much as ever

 "Your own, my Cherie's own, "GERALD. "

There followed directions how to send letters to him through theoffice of the 'Censor'. 

Then she opened, written on the same day, a letter from DoloresMohun, sent in obedience to his telegram, when he found that time fordetails failed him. It began—-

"DEAR MRS. GRINSTEAD, "I know you will be shocked and grieved at the step that your nephewhas taken, but when you understand the circumstances, I think youwill see that it was unavoidable for one of so generous and self-sacrificing a nature. I may add, that my aunt Lily is much touched, and thoroughly approves, and my uncle Jasper says imprudence isbetter than selfishness. "

After this little preamble ensued a full and sensible account ofLudmilla's situation and sufferings at the circus, and the history ofher escape, demonstrating (to the writer's own satisfaction) thatthere was no other means of securing the poor child. 

Of course the blow to Geraldine was a terrible one. 

"We have lost him, " she said. 

"That does not follow, " said Clement. "It is quite plain that hedoes not mean to cut himself off from us, and America is not out ofreach. "

"It is just the restless impatience that you warned him against. As if he could not have taken her to the Hendersons. "

"She would not have been safe there, unless acts of cruelty couldhave been proved. "

"Or to us, out here. "

"My dear Cherry, imagine his sudden arrival with such an appendage!I really think the boy has acted for the best. "

"Giving up Oxford too!"

"That can be resumed. "

"And most likely that wretched little girl will run off in a month'stime. It is in the blood. "

"Come, come, Cherry. I can't have you in this uncharitable mood. "

"Then I mustn't say what I think of that Dolores abetting him. "

"No, I like her letter. "

It fell hard upon Geraldine to keep all to herself, while entertainedin full state by her hosts. Perhaps Adeline would have likedsomething on a smaller scale, for she knew what was ostentatious; butthough Mr. White had once lived in a corner of the castle, almostlike an artisan; since he had married, it had become his pride totreat his guests on the grandest London scale, and the presence ofSir Robert Audley for one night evoked all his splendours. He madeexcuses for having no one to meet the party but the chaplain and hiswife and the young doctor, who he patronizingly assured them was"quite the gentleman, " and Theodore White-— "Just to fill up a cornerand amuse the young ladies. " Theodore had been lately sent out, nowa clerk, soon to be a partner; but he was very shy, and did not amusethe young ladies at all! Indeed, he was soon so smitten withadmiration for Franceska, that he could do nothing but sit rapt, looking at her under his eyelids. 

The chaplain had received an offer of preferment in England, and wasanxious to go home as soon as possible. Clement was now so well, that after assisting the next day in the week's duties among thepeople, and at the pretty little church that Mr. White had built, heventured to accept the proposal of becoming a substitute until thedecision was made or another chaplain found. He was very happy to beemployed once more in his vocation. 

The climate suited him exactly, and the loan of the chaplain's housewould relieve him and Geraldine from the rather oppressivehospitality of the castle. The search for Benista's antecedentswould of course go on with the assistance of Mr. White and hisItalian foreman, but both assured him that the inquiry might beprotracted, as winter was likely to cut off the communications withmany parts of the interior, and many of the men would be at theirdistant homes till the spring advanced. 

Meantime, Geraldine and her nieces had a home life, reading, studyingItalian, drawing with endless pleasure, and the young ones walkingabout the chestnut-covered slopes. She sat in the gardens or drovewith Mrs. White in her donkey-chaise, and would have been full ofenjoyment but for the abiding anxiety about Gerald. It was rather arelief not to be living in the same house with the Whites, whosehospitality and magnificence were rather oppressive. Mr. Whitewanted to have everything admired, and its cost appreciated; andAdeline, though clever enough, had provoking similarities anddissimilarities to her sisters. The same might be said of Maura, towhom Francie at first took a great fancy, but Anna, who had seen moreof the world, had a sense of distrust. 

"There's something fawning about her ways, " said she, "and I don'tknow whether she is quite sincere. "

"Perhaps it is only being half Greek, " said Geraldine. 

However, the two families met every day, and Mrs. White called theirintercourse "such a boon, such a charming friendship, " all unawarethat there was no real confidence or affection. 

They had not long been seated when the little Italian messenger boybrought them a budget of letters. Of course the first that Geraldineopened was in her nephew's writing. It had been written at intervalsthroughout the voyage, and finished on landing at New York. 

Passing over the expressions of unabated affection, and explanationof the need of removing Ludmilla out of reach of her naturalguardians, with the date on the second day of the voyage, the diarycontinued:

"Whom, as the fates would have it, should I have encountered but theCacique! Yes, old Fernan and Marilda have the stateliest of state-rooms in this same liner, and he was as much taken aback as I waswhen we ran against one another over a destitute and disconsolateIrish family in the steerage. Marilda is as yet invisible, as is mypoor little Lida. It is unlucky, for the good man is profuse in hisoffers of patronage, and I don't mean to be patronized. "

Then, after some clever descriptions of the fellow second-classpassengers in his own lively vein, perhaps a little forced, so as notto betray more than he intended, that he felt them uncongenial, therecame—-

"Lida is up again; she is a sweet little patient person, and I cannotwithstand Fernan's wish to present her to his wife, who remainsprostrate at present, and will till we get out of the present stiffbreeze and its influences. 

"12th. -—The presentation is over, and it has ended in Lida devotingherself to the succour of Marilda, and likewise of her maid, who is agood deal worse than herself. 

 * * * * *

"16th. -—These amiable folks want to take Lida off with them, not tosay myself, to their 'Underwood' in the Rockies; but I don't intendher to be semi-lady's-maid, semi-companion, as she is becoming, butto let her stand on her own legs, or mine, and put her to a goodschool at New York. I have finished an article on 'TransatlanticTravellers' for the 'Censor', also some reviews, and another paperthat may pave my way to work in New York or elsewhere. My craving isfor the work of hard hands, but I look at mine, and fear I run moreto the brain than the hands. My father must have been of finerphysique than the Sioux bullet left to me; but I have no fears. "

"No, indeed, " sighed Geraldine; "he has not the fine athleticstrength of his dear father, but still—-still I think there is thatin him which Edgar had not. "

"Force of character, " said Clement, "even if he is wrong-headed. Here is Fernan's letter—-

"'Imagine my amazement at finding Gerald on board with us. He tellsme that you are aware of his escapade, so I need not explain it. Heis not very gracious to either of us, and absolutely refuses alloffers of assistance either for himself or his sister. However, Ihope to be able to keep a certain watch over him without offendinghim, and to obviate some of the difficulties in his way, perhapsunknown to him. Marilda has, as usual, suffered greatly on thevoyage, but the little Lida, as he calls her, has been most attentiveand useful both to her and her maid, who was quite helpless, and muchthe worst of the two. My wife was much prejudiced against Lida atfirst, but has become very fond of her, and is sure that she is athoroughly good girl-—worth the sacrifice Gerald has made for her. In his independent mood, he will not hear of our offering a home tothe poor child; but if, as I hope, your researches turn out in hisfavour, he may consent to let us find suitable education for her. Atany rate, I promise Geraldine not to leave these two young things totheir fate, though I may have to act secretly. I can never forgethow I took him from his father's side, and the baptism almost inblood. We go to New Orleans first, and after the cold weather home, but letters to the Bank will find us. '"

"Good, dear old Fernan and Marilda!" cried Geraldine, "I can seetheir kindness, and how, with all their goodness, it must jar onGerald's nerves. "

"I hope he won't be an ass, " returned Clement. "Such patientgoodness ought not to be snubbed by-—" He caught his sister's eye, and made his last words "youthful theorists. "

Mrs. Henderson too forwarded a letter from Lida, being sure that itwould be a great pleasure to Mrs. Grinstead. It went into many moreparticulars about the miseries of the circus training than had beenknown before, and the fears and hints which made it plain that it hadbeen quite right to avail herself of the means of escape; after whichwas added—-

"I never thought to be so happy as I am here. My brother is thenoblest, most generous, most kind of creatures, and that he should doall this for me, after all the harm he has suffered from my poormother! It quite overpowers me when I think of it. I see a tear hasdropped, but it is such a happy one. Please tell Mr. Flight whatpeace and joy this is to me, after all my prayers and trying to mindwhat he said. There are such a gentleman and lady here, cousins tomy brother, Sir Ferdinand and Lady Travis Underwood. She has beenmore or less ill all through the voyage, and her maid worse, and shehas let me do what I could for her, and has been kindness itself. They were at the bazaar. Did you see Sir Ferdinand? He is the verygrandest and handsomest man I ever did see, and so good to all thepoor emigrants in the steerage. He is very kind to me; but I seethat my brother will not have me presume. They have bidden me writeto them in any need. I never thought there could be so many goodpeople out of Rockquay. Please give my duty to Mr. Flight and LadyFlight, good Miss Mohun, and dear Miss Dolores. I wear her ulster, and bless the thought of her. "

CHAPTER XXIX. ROWENA AND HER RIVAL

And yet if each the other's name In some unguarded moment heard, The heart that once you thought so tame Would flutter like a wounded bird. -—ANON. 

Letters continued to come with fair regularity; and it was understoodthat Gerald, with Lida, had taken up his quarters in an "inexpensive"boarding-house at New York, where he had sent Lida to a highly-recommended day-school, and he was looking out for employment. Hisarticles had been accepted, he said; but the accounts of hisadventures and of his fellow-inmates gave the sense that there wasmore humour in the retrospect than in the society, and that they werebetter to write about than to live with. He never confessed it, butto his aunt, who understood him, it was plain that he found it adifferent thing to talk philanthropic socialism, or even to workamong the poor, and to live in the society of the unrefined equals. 

Then he wrote that Lida had come one day and told him that one of thegirls, with whom she had made friends, had a bad attack of cough andbronchitis, and could not fulfil an engagement that she had made tocome and sing for a person who was giving lectures upon nationalmusic. "'I looked at some of her songs, ' little Lida said in herhumble way, 'and I know them. Don't you think, brother, I might takeher part?' Well, not to put too fine a point upon it, it was not anunwelcome notion, for my articles, though accepted, don't bring inthe speedy remuneration with which fiction beguiles the aspirant. Only one of them, which I send you, has seen the light, and the'Censor' is slow, though sure, so dollars for immediate expenses runshort. I called on the fellow, Mr. Gracchus B. Van Tromp, to seewhether he were fit company for my sister, and I found him muchsuperior to his name—-gentlemanlike and intelligent, not ill-read, and pretty safe, like most Yankees, to know how to behave to a younggirl. When he found I could accompany my sister on piano or violinhe was transported. Moreover, he could endure to be enlightened by aBritisher on such little facts as the true history of Auld Robin Grayand the Wacht am Rhein. The lecture was a marked success. We haveanother tonight, 16th. It has resulted in a proposal to these twointeresting performers to accompany the great Gracchus on a tourthrough the leading 'cities, ' lecturing by turns with him andassisting. He has hitherto picked up as he could 'local talent, ' butis glad of less uncertain help, and so far as appears, he is superiorto jealousy, though he sees that I'm better read, 'and of the cutthat takes the ladies. ' It is no harm for Lida; she was not learningmuch, and I can cultivate her better when I have her to myself, andget her not to regard me so much like a lion, to be honoured withdistant respect and obedience. We shall get dollars enough to keepus going till my talents break upon the world, and obtain stunningexperiences for the 'Censor'. My father's dear old violin is comingto the front. Our first start will be at Boston; but continue towrite to Gerald F. Wood, care of Editor of 'Cole's Weekly'. "

"How like his father!" was the natural exclamation; but the detailsthat followed in another week were fairly satisfactory, and thespirit of independence was a sound one, which had stood harder proofsthan perhaps his home was allowed to know, though these were earlydays. 

February was beginning to open the buds and to fill the slopes withdelicate anemones, as well as to bring back Mr. White's workmen, among whom Clement could make inquiries. One young man knew the nameof Benista as belonging to a family in a valley beyond his own, butit was not an easily accessible one, and a fresh fall of snow hadchoked the ravine, and would do so for weeks to come. 

Yet all was lovely on the coast, and Mr. White having occasion to goto San Remo, offered to take the three girls with him. 

"Young ladies always have a turn for shops, " said he. 

"I want to see the coast, " said Franceska, with a little dignity. 

"But I do want some gloves-—and some blue embroidery silk, thank you, Mr. White, " said Anna, more courteously. 

"And I want some handkerchiefs, if Mr. White will take me too!"returned Uncle Clement in the same tone. 

"I know so well what you mean, dear, " observed Maura, sotto voce toFrancie. "It is so trying to be supposed mere common-place, whenone's thoughts are on the beautiful and romantic. "

It was just one of the sayings that had begun to go against Francie'staste, and she answered—-

"Mr. White is very good-natured. "

"Ah, yes, but so—-so-—you know. "

Francie was called, and left Mr. White's description to beunutterable. 

The two elder ladies spent the day together, and Mrs. Grinstead thenheard that Jane Mohun had written, that both Lord Ivinghoe and LadyPhyllis Devereux were recovering from the influenza, and that LordRotherwood had had a slight touch of the complaint. 

"It is a very serious thing in our family, " said Adeline, with allthe satisfaction of having a family, especially with a complaint, andshe began to enumerate the victims of the Devereux house and her own, only breaking off to exclaim, "I really shall write at once to begthem all to come here for the rest of the winter, March winds andall. My cousin Rotherwood has never been here, and they might bequite quiet among relations. So unlike a common health resort. "

Mrs. White's hospitable anticipations were forestalled. The partycame home from San Remo in high spirits. They had met LordRotherwood and his son in the street, they had been greeted mostwarmly, and brought to luncheon at the villa, where they found notonly Lady Rotherwood and Phyllis, but Mysie Merrifield. 

It was explained that their London doctor had strongly advisedimmediate transplantation before there was time to catch fresh colds, and a friend of the Marchioness, who permanently possessed a charminghouse at San Remo, had offered it just as it was for the spring. Thejourney had been made at once, with one deviation on LordRotherwood's part, to beg for Mysie, as an essential requisite to his"Fly's" perfect recovery. A visit had been due before, only deferredby the general illness, and no difficulty was made in letting it bepaid in these new and delightful scenes. Phyllis had been therebefore. She was weak and languid, and would much rather have stayedat home, except for seeing Mysie's delight in the mountains and theblue Mediterranean, which she dimly remembered from her infancy atMalta. Only she made it a point of honour not to allow that the seawas bluer than the bay of Rockquay. 

Ivinghoe was looking ill and disgusted, but brightened up at thesight of the visitors, and his mother, who thought Monte Carlo toonear, though she had kept as far from it as possible, accepted themore willingly Mr. White's cordial invitation to come and spend a dayor two at Rocca Marina. Trifles were so much out of the good lady'sfocus of vision that the possible dangers in that quarter neveroccurred to her, though Maura was demurely bridling, and Francie, allunawakened, but prettier than ever, was actually wearing a scarletanemone that Ivinghoe had given to her. 

In the intervening days, Rocca Marina was in a wonderful state ofpreparation. The master of it was genuinely and honestly kindly andsimple-hearted, and had entertained noble travellers before, who hadbeen attracted by his extensive and artistic works; but no words candescribe the satisfaction of his wife. In part there was theheartfelt pleasure of receiving the cousin who had been like one ofher brothers in the home of her childhood; but to this was added theglory of knowing that this same cousin was a marquis, and that thesociety of San Remo, nay of all the Riviera and the Italian papers toboot, would know that she was a good deal more than the quarry-owner's wife. Moreover, like all her family, there was a sense ofLady Rotherwood's coming from a different sphere, and treating themwith condescension. Jane and Lily might laugh, but to Adeline it wasmatter of a sort of aggressive awe, half as asserting herself as"Victoria's" equal and relation, half as protecting her from inferiorpeople. 

Geraldine perceived and was secretly amused. Of course all the partydined at the castle on Saturday night, and heard some lamentationsthat there was no one else to meet the distinguished guests, for theyoung doctor was not thought worthy. 

"But I knew you would like a family party best, and the Underwoodsare-—almost connections, though—-"

In that "though" was conveyed their vast inferiority to the house ofMohun. 

"I always understood that it was a very good old family, " said LadyRotherwood. 

"Clement Underwood is one of the most valuable clergy in London, "said her lord; "I am glad he is recovering. I shall be delighted tohear him again. "

Maura was standing under the pergola with Lord Ivinghoe. 

"And is not it sad for poor Franceska Vanderkist? -—Oh! you knowabout poor Mr. Gerald Underwood?" said Maura, blushing a little atthe awkward subject. 

"Of course, " said Ivinghoe impatiently. "He is in America, is henot? But what has she to do with it?"

"Oh, you know, after being his Mona, and all. It can't go anyfurther till it is cleared up. "

Phyllis and Mysie came up, asking Maura to tell them the name of amountain peak with a white cap. The party came up to dinner, whichwas as genial and easy as the host and Lord Rotherwood could make it, and as stiff and grand as the hostess could accomplish, aided by thedeftness and grace of her Italian servants. In the evening Theodorecame up to assist in the singing of glees, and Clement's voice was adelightful and welcome sound in his sister's ears. Ivinghoe stoodamong the circle at the piano, and enjoyed. He and his sister werenot particularly musical, but enough to enjoy those remarkableUnderwood voices. After that Maura never promoted musical evenings. 

An odd little Sunday-school for the children of the English workmenhad been instituted at Rocca Marina, where Maura had always assistedthe chaplain's wife, and Anna and Francie shared the work. Mysieheard of it with enthusiasm, for, as Ivinghoe told her, she waspining for a breath of the atmosphere, but she came down to enjoy thedelights thereof alone, taking Maura's small class. Maura wassupposed to be doing the polite to Lady Phyllis, but in point of factPhyllis was lying down in the balcony of her mother's dressing-room, and Maura was gracefully fanning herself under a great cork tree, while Lord Ivinghoe was lying on the grass. 

Francie looked languid, and said it was getting dreadfully hot, butMrs. Grinstead took no notice, trusting that the cessation ofattentions would hinder any feeling from going deeper, so that—-asshe could not help saying to herself-—she might not have brought thepoor child out of the frying-pan into the fire-—not an elegantproverb, but expressing her feeling!

More especially did it do so, when she found that Lord Rotherwood wasso much delighted with the beauty and variety of the marbles of RoccaMarina as to order a font to be made of them for the church that wasbeing restored at Clarebridge, and he, and still more his son, foundconstant diversion in running over by train from San Remo tosuperintend the design, and to select the different colours andpatterns of the stones as they were quarried out and bits polished soas to show their beauty. Their ladies often accompanied them, andthese expeditions generally involved luncheon at the castle, andoften tea at the parsonage, but it might be gradually observed, astime went on, that there was a shade of annoyance on the part of thegreat house at the preference sometimes unconsciously shown for thesociety of the smaller one. 

Mysie openly claimed Anna as her own friend of some standing, andboth she and Phyllis had books to discuss, botanical or geologicaldiscoveries to communicate or puzzle out, with Mrs. Grinstead or hernieces. Lord Rotherwood had many more interests in common withClement Underwood than with Mr. White, and even the Marchioness, though more impartial and on her guard, was sensible to Mrs. Grinstead's charm of manner and depth of comprehension. Shepatronized Adeline, but respected Mrs. Grinstead as incapable ofand insensible to patronage. 

That her gentlemen should have found such safe and absorbingoccupation in the opposite direction to Monte Carlo was an abidingsatisfaction to her, and she did not analyze the charms of the placeas regarded her son. She had seen him amused by other young ladies, as he certainly was now by that Miss White, who was very handsome andvery obliging. 

She knew and he knew all the antecedents too well for alarm, till oneday she saw Maura's face, as she made him pull down a spray ofbanksia from the side of a stone wall, and watched the air of gallantcourtesy with which he presented it. 

Francie watched it too, as she had watched the like before, and saidnothing, but there was an odd, dull sense of disappointment, and theglory had faded away from sea and sky, spring though it was. Yetthere were pressures of the hand in greeting and parting, and kind, wistful looks, as if of sympathy, little services and littleattentions, that set her foolish little heart bounding, in a way shewas much ashamed to feel, and would have been more utterly ashamed tospeak of, or to suppose observed. She only avowed to Anna that itwas very warm, weary weather, and that she was tired of absence, andfelt homesick, but Aunt Cherry was so kind that she must not be told. 

Lady Rotherwood proposed moving away, but her husband and son wouldnot hear of it till their font was finished. 

It was not unwelcome to any one of the elder ladies that the youngofficer's leave would be over in another week. Geraldine was gladthat Francie should be freed from the trial of seeing attentionabsorbed by Maura, and herself so often left in the lurch, so far asthat young lady could contrive it, for though not a word was said, the brightened eye and glowing cheek, whenever Lord Ivinghoe broughther forward, or paid her any deference or civility, were dangeroussymptoms. Peace of mind in so modest and innocent a maiden wouldprobably come back when the excitement was once over. 

As to Adeline, there was nothing she dreaded so much as the commotionthat would be excited if Ivinghoe's flirtation came to any crisis. His mother would never forgive her, his father would hardly do so;she would feel like a traitor to the whole family, and all herattempts to put a check on endeavours on Maura's part to draw him on-—an endeavour that began to be visible to her-—were met by apparentunconsciousness or by tears. And when she ventured a word to herhusband, he gruffly answered that his niece's father had been anofficer in the army, and he could make it worth any one's while totake her! Young lords were glad enough in these days to havesomething to put into their pockets. 

CHAPTER XXX. DREAMS AND NIGHTINGALES

Then in that time and place I spoke to her. -—TENNYSON. 

 "Office of 'Lacustrian Intelligencer, ' "Jonesville, Ohio, "March 20. "DEAREST CHERIE, "I told you in my last that the chief boss in the office at New Yorkhad written to me that he had been asked to send an intelligent youngman to sub-edit the Lacustrian Intelligencer at Jonesville, a risingcity on Lake Erie. I thought it would be worth while to look at it, especially as we were booked to give a lecture at Sandusky, andmoreover our relations to Gracchus have been growing rather strained, and I do not think this wandering life good for Lida in the long run;nor are my articles paid enough for to be a dependence. So afterholding forth at Sandusky, we took our passage in a little steamerwhich crosses the little bay in the Lake to Jonesville-—one of thosesteamers just like a Noah's Ark. 

"Presently Lida came up and touched me, saying in her little awe-struck whisper (which has never been conquered), 'Brother, I am sureI saw one of mother's cigarettes. ' I said 'Bosh!' thinking it anutter delusion; but she was so decided and so frightened, that I toldher to go into the saloon, and went forward. A woman was going aboutthe deck, offering the passengers a basket of candies, lights, cigarettes, and cigars. Saving for Lida's words, I never should haverecognized her; she was thin to the last degree, haggard, yellow, excessively shabby and forlorn-looking, and with a hollow cough; butas her eyes met mine (those eyes that you say are our water-mark)both of us made a sort of leap as if to go overboard, and I went upto her at once, and would have spoken, but she cried out, 'What haveyou done with Lida?' I answered that she was safe, and demanded inmy turn where were O'Leary and Jellicoe. 'Drowned, drowned, ' shesaid, 'in the wreck of the Sirius. They'll never trouble you more. But Lida!' I thought that it was safe to take her into the saloon tosee Lida, when they fell into each other's arms, and afforded thespectators a romantic spectacle. Don't think I am making a joke ofit, for it was tragic enough in the result of the agitation. Bloodwas choking the poor woman. We could only lay her down on the couch, and happily there were lemons on board. There was a good-naturedIrishman who gave me all the help he could, even to the carrying herto his house, where his wife was equally kind. He fetched thepriest, a French Canadian, and the doctor, and Lida has been watchingover her most tenderly; poor things—-they seem really to have caredfor one another, and Lida will be the happier for having done theselast duties. 

"21st. She is a little better. So far as we have gathered from onewho must not talk nor be agitated, the circus had got intodifficulties and debt to Bast, the van proprietor. I believe Lida'svoice was their last hope, and they had some ghastly scheme ofdisposing of her in Belgium. When they lost her, their chances wereover, and with the proceeds of their last exhibition, Jellicoe andthe O'Leary pair left the elephant, etc. , to take care of themselvesand make their excuses to Mr. Bast, and started for Liverpool and theU. S. In the Sirius. Storms overtook them, the women were put intothe first boat, those which followed were swamped. Poor fellows, Iown I can't sing a pious dirge for them. There were three days ofhunger and exposure before the boat was picked up, and she wasfinally landed at Quebec, where she was laid up with pleurisy in thehospital. And there was a subscription for the wrecked when she cameout, which enabled her to set up this reminiscence of her old trade, drifting from one pier or boat to another till she came to this one, but all the time with this awful cough. The doctor thinks it herknell; her lungs are far gone, but she may probably rally in somedegree for the summer, though hardly so as to be moved. 

"That being the case, I have been to the Lacustrian office, andengaged myself to be its hack, since I must have some fixed pay whileshe lives. Perhaps I shall be able to do a little extra writing andlecturing, especially if she gets better, enough to spare Lida tohelp me. Her voice really is a lovely soprano, and drawswonderfully, but I don't want it to be strained too early. Our goodIrishwoman, Mrs. Macbride, is willing to let us have her two rooms, left empty by her sons going west, and her daughter marrying, on fairterms, Lida promising to be a sort of help and to teach the children. We shall eat with them. I shall be at the office all day and halfthe night, so I don't need a sitting-room. Don't be anxious, dearold Cherie. We shall do very well, and it is only for a time. Lidais like a little angel, and as thankful for a smile from her motheras if she had been the reprobate runaway. "Your ever-loving "GERALD. "

This was the letter that came to Mrs. Grinstead, and one with similarinformation went to Dolores Mohun at her college at Cambridge. Dolores, who had found Mysie much more sympathetic than Gillian, could not but write the intelligence to her, and Mysie was so muchstruck with the beauty of the much-injured brother and sisterdevoting themselves to their mother, that she could not help tellingthe family party at breakfast. 

"That's right, " said Lord Rotherwood. "The mother can clear up thedoubt if any one can. Is there nothing about it?"

"No, " replied Mysie; "I should think the poor woman was too ill to beasked. "

"They must not let her slip through their fingers without telling, "added Ivinghoe. 

"I have a mind to run over to Rocca Marina and see what more theyhave heard there, " said Lord Rotherwood. "I suppose your letter isfrom one of the girls there?"

"Oh no, it is from Dolores. "

"Dolores! She is at Cambridge. Then this news must have been roundby Clipstone! They must have known it for days past at Rocca!"exclaimed Lord Rotherwood. 

"No, " said Mysie, "this came direct to Dolores from Gerald Underwoodhimself. -—Oh, didn't you know? I forgot, nobody was to know tillUncle Maurice gave his consent. "

"Consent to what?" exclaimed Ivinghoe. 

"To Dolores and Gerald! Oh dear, mamma said so much to me about nottelling, but I did think Cousin Rotherwood knew everything. Please-—"

Whatever she was going to ask was cut short by Ivinghoe's suddenlystriking on the table so as to make all the cups and saucers ring ashe exclaimed—-

"If ever there lived a treacherous Greek minx!" Then, "I beg yourpardon, mother. "

He was off: they saw him dash out of the house. There was a traindue nearly at this time, as all recollected. 

"Papa, had not you better go with him?" said Lady Rotherwood. 

"He will get on much better by himself, my dear, " and Lord Rotherwoodthrew himself back in his chair and laughed heartily and merrily, tothe amazement and mystification of the two girls. "You will have abeauty on your hands, my lady. "

"Well, as long as it is not that horrid White girl-—" said herladyship, breaking off there. 

"A very sorry Rebecca, " said her lord, laughing the more. 

But the Marchioness rose up, and the two cousins had to accept thesignal. 

The train, after the leisurely fashion of continental railways, keptIvinghoe fuming at the station, and rattled along so as to givetravellers a full view of the coast, more delightful to them than tothe youth, who had rushed off with intentions, he scarce knew what, of setting right the consequences of Maura's—-was it deception, oronly a thought, of which the wish was father?

He reached the station that led to the works at Rocca Marina. Thesun was high, the heat of the day coming on, and as he strode along, the workmen were leaving off to take their siesta at noontide. On hewent, across the private walks in the terraced garden, not up thebroad stone steps that led to the house, but to a little group ofolive trees which cut off the chaplain's house from the castlegardens, and where stood a great cork tree, to whose branches ahammock had been fastened, and seats placed under it. As he openedthe gate a little dog's bark was heard, and he was aware of a broadhat under the tree. Simultaneously a small Maltese dog sprangforward, and Francie's head rose from leaning over the little tablewith a start, her cheeks deeper rose than usual, having evidentlygone to sleep over the thin book and big dictionary that lay beforeher. 

"Oh!" she said, "it is you. Was I dreaming?"

"I am afraid I startled you. "

"No-—only"-—she still seemed only half awake—-"it seemed to come outof my dream. "

"Then you were dreaming of me?"

"Oh no. At, least I don't know, " she said, the colour flushing intoher face, as she sat upright, now quite awake and alive to thequestion, between truthfulness and maidenly modesty. 

"You were-—you were; you don't deny it!" And as she hung her headand grew more distressfully redder and redder, "You know what thatmeans. "

"Indeed-—indeed-—I couldn't help-—I never meant! Oh-—"

It was an exclamation indeed, for Uncle Clement's head appeared abovethe hammock, where he too had been dozing over his book, with thewords—-

"Halloo, young people, I'm here!"

Franceska would have fled, but Ivinghoe held her hand so tight thatshe could not wrench it away. He held it, while Clement struggled tothe ground, and then said—-

"Sir, there is no reason you or all the world should not know how Ilove this dearest, loveliest one. I came here this morning hopingthat she may grant me leave to try to win her to be my own. "

He looked at Francie. Her head drooped, but she had not taken herhand away, and the look on her face was not all embarrassment, butthere was a rosy sunrise dawning on it. 

All Clement could say was something of "Your father. "

"He knows, he understands; I saw it in his eyes, " said Ivinghoe. 

To Clement the surprise was far greater than it would have been tohis sister, and the experience was almost new to him, but he couldread Francie's face well enough to say—-

"My dear, I think we had better let you run in and compose yourself, or go to your aunt, while I talk to Lord Ivinghoe. "

Trembling, frightened, Francie was really glad to be released, as herlover with one pressure said—-

"I shall see you again, sweetest. "

She darted away, and Clement signed to Ivinghoe to sit down with himon the bench under the tree. 

"I should like this better if you had brought your father's fullassent, " he said. 

"There was no time. I only read his face; he will come to-morrow. "

"No time?"

"Yes, to catch the train. I hurried away the moment I learnt that—-that her affections were not otherwise engaged. I never saw any onelike her. She has haunted me ever since those days at Rockquay; but-—but I was told that she cared for your nephew, and I could not takeadvantage of him in his absence. And now I have but three daysmore. "

"Whoever told you was under a great error, " said Clement gravely, "and you have shown very generous self-command; but the advantages ofthis affair are so much the greatest on one side, that you cannotwonder if there is hesitation on our part, till we explicitly knowthat our poor little girl would not be unwelcome to your parents. "

"I know that no one can compare with her for—-for everything andanything, " stammered Ivinghoe, breaking from his mother's languageinto his father's, "and my father admires her as much as I do—-almost. "

"But what will he and your mother say to her being absolutelypenniless?"

"Pish!"

"And worse-—child to a spendthrift, a man of no connection, except onhis mother's side. "

"She is your niece, your family have bred her up, made her so muchmore than exquisitely lovely. "

"She is a good little girl, " said Clement, "but what are we? No, Ivinghoe, I do not blame you for speaking out, and she will be thehappier for the knowledge of your affection, but it will not be rightof us to give free consent, without being fully assured of that ofLord and Lady Rotherwood. "

Ivinghoe could only protest, but Clement rose to walk to the house, where his sister was sitting under the pergola in the agitation ofanswering Gerald's letter, and had only seen Francie flit by, callingto her sister in a voice that now struck her as having been strangeand suppressed. 

Clement trusted a good deal to his sister's quicker perceptions andhabit of observation to guide his opinion in the affair that hadburst on him, and was relieved that when Ivinghoe, like the well-bredyoung man that he was, went up to her, and taking her hand said, "Ihave been venturing to put my fate into the hands of your niece, " shedid not seem astonished or overwhelmed, but said—-

"She is a dear good girl; I do hope it will be for her happiness—-forboth. "

"Thank you, " he said fervently. "It will be the most earnest desireof my life. "

Geraldine thought it best to go in quest of Francie, whom she foundwith Anna, incoherent and happy in the glory of the certainty thatshe was loved, after the long trial of suppressed, unacknowledgedsuspense. No fears of parents, no thought of inequalities hadoccurred to trouble her—-everything was absorbed in the one thought—-"he really did love her. " How should she thank God enough, or prayenough to be worthy of such joy? There was no room for vexation orwonder at the delay, nor the attentions paid to Maura. She hushedAnna, who was inclined to be indignant, and who was obligedafterwards to pour out to her aunt all her wonder, though she allowedthat on his side there was nothing to be really called flirtation, itwas all Maura—-"she was sure Maura was at the bottom of it. "

"My dear, don't let us be uncharitable; there is no need to thinkabout it. Let us try to be like Francie, and swallow all up ingladness. Your mother-—"

"Oh, I can't think what she will do for joy. It will almost make herwell again. "

"But remember, we don't know what his parents will say. "

And with that sobering thought they had to go down to luncheon, whereFrancie sat blushing and entranced, too happy to speak, and Ivinghoeapparently contented to look at her. Afterwards he was allowed totake possession of her for the afternoon, so as to be able to teaseher about what she was dreaming about him. After all it had probablybeen evoked by the dog's bark and his step; for she had thought awolf was pursuing her, and that he had come to save her. It wasquite enough to be food for a lover. 

Clement would have wished to keep all to themselves, at least tillthe paternal visit was over, but Ivinghoe's days were few, and hemade sure of bringing his parents on the morrow. An expedition hadbeen arranged to the valley where some of the Benista family werereported to live, since the snows had departed enough for safety; butthis must needs be deferred, and there was no doubt that the "reasonwhy" would be sought out. 

Indeed, so close was the great house, and so minute a watch was kept, that the fact of Lord Ivinghoe's spending the whole day at theparsonage was known, and conclusions were arrived at. Maura stoledown in the late evening among the olive trees, ostensibly to askAnna and Francie to come and listen to the nightingales. 

But thereby she was witness to a scene that showed that there wasanother nightingale for Franceska than the one who was singing withsuch energy among the olive boughs. In fact, she saw the eveningfarewell, and had not the discretion, like Anna, to withdraw herselfand her eyes, but beheld, what had ever been sacred to both thoseyoung things, the first kiss. 

Poor Maura, she had none of the reticent pride and shame of anEnglish gentlewoman. She believed herself cruelly treated, andrushing away, fell on Anna, who was hovering near, watching toprevent any arrival such as was always probable. 

It would not be well to relate the angry, foolish words that Anna hadto hear, nor how Maura betrayed herself and her own manoeuvre. It isenough to say that she went home, weeping demonstratively, perhapsuncontrollably; and that Anna, after her trying scene, was able toexalt more than ever Ivinghoe's generosity towards the absent Gerald, and forbearance towards Franceska. If he had ever passed the line, it was more Maura's doing than his own. 

CHAPTER XXXI. THE COLD SHOULDER

Loath to depose the child, your brother's son. -—SHAKESPEARE. 

A telegram early the next day announced that the Rotherwood familywere on their way, and they came in due time, the kind embrace thatFrancie received from each in turn being such as to set doubts atrest. 

In fact, the dread, first of Monte Carlo, and secondly of MauraWhite, had done much to prepare the way with Lady Rotherwood. If shehad first heard of her son's attachment to the pretty child who actedMona, daughter to the upstart Vanderkists, and with a ruined fatherof no good repute, she would have held it a foolish delusion to becrushed without delay; but when this same attachment had lasted eightor nine months, and had only found avowal on the removal of asupposed rival; when, moreover, her darling had been ill, had revivedat the aspect of the young lady, and had conducted himself in a placeof temptation so as to calm an anxious mother's heart, she could seewith his eyes, not only that Franceska was really beautiful, graceful, and a true lady, but likely to develop still more underfavourable circumstances; that she had improved in looks, air, andmanner on her travels, also that she had never been injured by anycontact with undesirable persons, but had been trained by theexcellent Underwoods, whose gentle blood and breeding wereundeniable. Nor would "the daughter of the late Sir AdrianVanderkist, Baronet, of Ironbeam Park, " sound much amiss. He was solate, that his racing doings might be forgotten. 

Indeed, as the Marchioness looked up to the castle, she felt that shecould forgive a good deal to the damsel who had saved the family fromthe "sorry Rebecca, " who had cried all night, and was still crying, whenever any more tears would come, and not getting much pity fromany of her relatives. Mr. White told her that she was a little foolto have expected anything from a young swell; her brother said shemight have known that it was absurd to expect that any one could lookat her when Miss Franceska was by; and Mrs. White observed that itwas wonderful to her to see so little respect shown for maidendignity, as to endure to manifest disappointment. Adeline mightspeak from ample experience, and certainly her words had a salutaryeffect. 

However, the Whites en famille were not quite the same externally. When Lord Rotherwood, after luncheon, went to see old White at theworks, and look after his font, he met with a reception as stiff andcold as could well be paid to a distinguished customer who was not atall in fault; and for the first time Mr. White was too busy to walkback with him to the castle to see Adeline, whom he found, as usual, on a couch on the terrace in the shade of the house, a pretty pictureamong the flowers and vines. She was much more open with him, asbecame one who understood more of his point of view. 

"Well, Rotherwood, I suppose I am to congratulate you, though it isscarcely a fair match in a worldly point of view. "

"For which I care not a rap. She is a good, simple girl, and aperfect lady. "

"And Victoria? May I ask, does not she think it a misalliance, considering what these Vanderkists are-—and the Underwoods?"

"There's no one I respect more than Lancelot Underwood. As toVictoria, she is thankful that it is no worse. "

"Ah! I know what you mean, but you can't wonder that my husbandshould feel it hard that there should have been some kind offlirtation. He is fond of Maura, you know, and he does feel thatthere must have been some slyness in some one to cause this affair tohave been so suddenly sprung on us. "

"Slyness-—aye, I believe there was. Tell me, Ada, had you any notionthat that lad, Gerald Underwood, was engaged to Dolores Mohun?"

"No; who told you?"

"Mysie let it out. She had been warned not to mention it till hisposition was ascertained, Maurice's consent and all. "

"I must say Mysie should have spoken. It was not fair towards me tokeep it back. "

"Still less fair of Maura, if that's her name, to hint at attachmentbetween Franceska and the boy. That was the embargo upon my poorfellow. He rushed off to have it out the moment he saw how mattersstood. "

"Well, it was a great shame; but girls are girls, especially withthose antecedents, and Maura did not know to the contrary. You willbelieve me, Rotherwood, I never had any desire that she shouldsucceed. I would have sent her away if I could; but you can't wonderthat Mr. White is vexed, and feels as if there had been underhanddealing. "

"I see he is. But you will not let him make it unpleasant for theUnderwoods. "

"Oh no, no! They have not much longer to stay. They are incorrespondence about a rheumatic clergyman. "

Mrs. White, however, determined not to expose Maura to her husband, though she reproached her, and was rather shocked by the young lady'sself-defence. It was a natural idea, and no one had ever told her tothe contrary. It was all spite in Mysie Merrifield to proclaim itafter having kept it back so long. 

She really was in such a state of mind that Mrs. White was ratherrelieved that the Rotherwoods had taken Franceska to San Remo to staytill Ivinghoe had to depart. Anna was left to send off the littlefelicitous note that she had written to her mother. 

Each and all were writing letters that would be received with rapturealmost incredulous, for no one but Sophia could have had anypreparation. 

"It is pleasant to think of poor Alda's delight, " said Geraldine, over her writing-case. "After all her troubles, to have her utmostambition fulfilled at last; and yet-—and yet it does seem turningthat pretty creature over to a life of temptation. "

"In good hands, " said Clement. "The youth himself is a nice honestfellow, a mere boy as yet; but it is something to have no harm in himat two-and-twenty and in the Guards; and his parents are evidentlyready to watch over and guide them. "

"If her head does not get turned, " sighed Geraldine. 

"Just as likely in any other station, " replied Clement. "Theprotection must come from within, not from the externals; and I dothink that she—-yes, and he too—-have that Guard within them. "

"I think the sooner we are away from this place the better, " saidGeraldine. "There are such things as cold shoulders, and perhapsdispleasure is in human nature, though it is not our fault. "

"Which is the worse for us, " laughed her brother, "since we can't begpardon. "

The cold shoulder was manifested by a note of apology the nextmorning from Mr. White. He was too busy to go with Mr. Underwood toSanta Carmela on this day, but had sent the young quarry-man to actas guide, and his foreman as interpreter. So Clement had his longride on mule-back mostly in silence, though this he scarcelylamented, for he could better enjoy the mountain peaks and thevalleys bright with rich grass, with anemones of all colours, hyacinths, strange primulas and gentians, without having to make talkto Mr. White. But his journey was without result. He did find anexceedingly old woman keeping sheep and spinning wool with a distaff, who owned to the name of Cecca Benista. She once had a brother. Yes, Gian was his name, but he went away, as they all did. He had avoice bellissima, si bellissima; and some one told her long, longago, that he had made his fortune, and formed a company, but he hadnever come home—-no, no, and was probably dead, though she had neverheard; and he had sent nothing—-no, no!

Then Clement tried the priest of the curious little church on thehill-side, a memory of Elijah and the convents on Mount Carmel. TheParrocco was a courteous man, quite a peasant, and too young to knowmuch about the past generation. He gave Clement a refection of whitebread, goats' milk cheese, and coffee, and held up his hands on thedeclining of his thin wine. There was a kind of register ofbaptisms, and Giovanni Batista Benista was hunted out, and it wasfound that if alive he would be over seventy years old. But no morewas known, and there was no proof that he was dead twenty-two yearsbefore!

That long day had convinced Geraldine that the pleasantness ofintercourse with the Whites was over, and she was not sorry that aletter was waiting for Clement to say that the rheumatic clergymanwould arrive, if desired, in another week. This was gladly accepted, and the question remained, whither should they go? Clement's year ofabsence would be over in June, and he was anxious to get home;besides that, it was desirable to take Francie to her mother as soonas possible. The only cause for delay was the possibility ofGerald's extracting something further from his mother, which mightlead to further researches on the Continent; but as most places werereadily accessible from London, this was decided against, and it wasdetermined to go back to Brompton at the same time as the Rotherwoodsreturned from San Remo. 

On the last Sunday Mr. White showed himself much more cordial than hehad been since the crisis. He waited in the porch to say—-

"Well, sir, you have given us some very excellent sermons, and I amsure we are much obliged to you. If I can help you any more ininvestigating that unlucky affair of your nephew, do not hesitate towrite to me. I shall be delighted to assist you in coming to yourrights. "

"Thank you; though I sincerely hope they are not my rights. "

"Ah, well. You are not so advanced in life but that if you came intoanything good, you might marry and start on a new lease! You arepounds better than when you came here. "

Which last clause was so true that Clement could only own it, withthanks to his good-humoured host, who lingered a little still tosay—-

"I am sorry any vexation arose about those foolish young people, butyou see young women will wish to do the best they can for themselves, and will make mischief too if one listens to them. A sensible manwon't. That's what I say. "

Clement quite agreed, though he was not sensible of having listenedto any of the mischief-making, but he heartily shook hands with Mr. White, and went away, glad to be at peace. 

CHAPTER XXXII. THE TEST OF DAY-DREAMS

Faith's meanest deed more favour bears, Where hearts and wills are weighed, Than brightest transports, choicest prayers, That bloom their hour and fade. -—J. H. NEWMAN. 

That return to Brompton was the signal for the numerous worriesawaiting Clement. First, the doctors thought him much improved, butdeclared that a return to full work at St. Matthew's would overthrowall the benefit of his long rest, and would not hear of his goingback, even with another curate, for an experiment. 

Then all went down to Vale Leston together. Mr. Ed'dard was welcomedwith rapture by his old flock. Alda had been almost ill withexcitement and delight, and had not words enough to show her ecstasyover her beautiful daughter, nor her gratitude to Geraldine, to whosemanagement she insisted on attributing the glorious result. In vaindid Geraldine disclaim all diplomacy, Lady Vanderkist was sure thatall came of her savoir faire. At any rate, it was really comfortableto be better beloved by Alda than ever in the course of her life!Alda even intimated that she should be well enough to come toBrompton to assist in the choice of the trousseau, and the firstannoyance was with Clement for not allotting a disproportioned sumfor the purpose. He declared that Francie ought not to have morespent on her than was reserved for her sisters, especially as itwould be easy for her to supply all deficiencies, while Alda couldnot endure that the future Lady Ivinghoe should have an outfitunworthy of her rank, even though both Wilmet and Geraldine undertookto assist. 

There were other difficulties, for which the sojourn at Vale Lestonwas to be dreaded. Gerald had been of age for two months, and therewere leases to be signed and arrangements made most difficult todetermine in the present state of things. Major and Mrs. Harewoodwanted to wind up their residence in the Priory, and to be able tomove as soon as the wedding was over, since Franceska begged that itmight be at the only home she remembered, and her elders put asidetheir painful recollections to gratify her; so that it was fixed forearly August, just a year since her unprepared appearance as Mona. 

After all, Alda was really too ill to go to London, and Franceska hadto be sent in charge of her aunt Cherry and of her sister Mary. LadyRotherwood would be in town, and might be trusted to have nounreasonable expectations. 

Poor Sophy! Penbeacon's destiny was one of the affairs that couldnot be settled, and therewith her own, though her mother could notsucceed in penetrating any of the family with the horror of givingLord Ivinghoe such a brother-in-law. 

In the midst of the preparations came a letter from Gerald. He didindeed write every Sunday, but of late his had been hurried letters:he was so fully occupied and had so much writing on hand that hecould not indulge in more length. 

"You have been urging me, " he said, "to find out what my motherknows. I have not liked to press the subject while she was so ill, as she always met every hint of it with tears and agitation. However, at last, Lida brought her to it, and we really believe sheknows no more than we do what became of her first husband. She neverheard of him after she fled from him. She was almost a child, and hehad been very cruel to her. But she did tell us where we may benearly certain of finding out, namely from Signor Menotti, Via SanGiacomo, Genoa, or his successors, a man who trained singers andperformers, and moreover took charge of Benista's money, and shethinks he had considerable savings. Poor woman, I believe she had noidea of the harm she might be doing me, though it was scarcely inhuman nature to see prosperity look so aggressive without trying toprofit thereby; and when she had put herself into O'Leary's power, the notion was to make an income out of me by private threats andholding their tongues. That I should have any objection to such anarrangement, except on economical principles, never entered theirheads, and they tried to make as much as possible out of either me orClement, by withholding all the information possible till it was paidfor, and our simultaneous refusal to be blackmailed entirelydisconcerted them, and made them furious. Lida said the man wasviolent with her mother for letting out even what she did totrousseau, and the first annoyance was with Clement for not allottinga disproportioned sum for the purpose. He declared that Francieought not to have more spent on her than was reserved for hersisters, especially as it would be easy for her to supply alldeficiencies, while Alda could not endure that the future LadyIvinghoe should have an outfit unworthy of her rank, even though bothWilmet and Geraldine undertook to assist. 

There were other difficulties, for which the sojourn at Vale Lestonwas to be dreaded. Gerald had been of age for two months, and therewere leases to be signed and arrangements made most difficult todetermine in the present state of things. Major and Mrs. Harewoodwanted to wind up their residence in the Priory, and to be able tomove as soon as the wedding was over, since Franceska begged that itmight be at the only home she remembered, and her elders put asidetheir painful recollections to gratify her; so that it was fixed forearly August, just a year since her unprepared appearance as Mona. 

After all, Alda was really too ill to go to London, and Franceska hadto be sent in charge of her aunt Cherry and of her sister Mary. LadyRotherwood would be in town, and might be trusted to have nounreasonable expectations. 

Poor Sophy! Penbeacon's destiny was one of the affairs that couldnot be settled, and therewith her own, though her mother could notsucceed in penetrating any of the family with the horror of givingLord Ivinghoe such a brother-in-law. 

In the midst of the preparations came a letter from Gerald. He didindeed write every Sunday, but of late his had been hurried letters:he was so fully occupied and had so much writing on hand that hecould not indulge in more length. 

"You have been urging me, " he said, "to find out what my motherknows. I have not liked to press the subject while she was so ill, as she always met every hint of it with tears and agitation. However, at last, Lida brought her to it, and we really believe sheknows no more than we do what became of her first husband. She neverheard of him after she fled from him. She was almost a child, and hehad been very cruel to her. But she did tell us where we may benearly certain of finding out, namely from Signor Menotti, Via SanGiacomo, Genoa, or his successors, a man who trained singers andperformers, and moreover took charge of Benista's money, and shethinks he had considerable savings. Poor woman, I believe she had noidea of the harm she might be doing me, though it was scarcely inhuman nature to see prosperity look so aggressive without trying toprofit thereby; and when she had put herself into O'Leary's power, the notion was to make an income out of me by private threats andholding their tongues. That I should have any objection to such anarrangement, except on economical principles, never entered theirheads, and they tried to make as much as possible out of either me orClement, by withholding all the information possible till it was paidfor, and our simultaneous refusal to be blackmailed entirelydisconcerted them, and made them furious. Lida said the man wasviolent with her mother for letting out even what she did to Lance, and he meant to put a heavy price even on the final disclosure, inthe trust (which I share) that it may prove the key to the mystery. She had no notion that the doubt was upsetting my position. Poorthing, she never had a chance in her life-—gipsy breeding at first, then Benista's tender mercies and the wandering life. She could notfail to love my father till his requirements piqued her, and it was aquarrel, exasperated perhaps by the commencement of his illness, overher neglect of my unlucky self, and her acceptance of Schnetterling'sattentions, that led to her abandoning him. I really do not thinkshe ever realized that it was a sin. That good Pere Duchamps is thefirst priest of any kind she ever listened to, and he has had a greateffect upon her. He would like to extend it to Lida and me, but Lidais staunch to her well-beloved Mr. Flight as well as to me, and thereis a church on the other side the bay to which I take her when ourpatient is well enough to spare her to walk, or we can afford thecrossing. Easter was a comfort there. 

"The warm weather has revived the patient, and she may live somemonths longer, though she is a mere skeleton. Lida tends her in themost affectionate manner, and is really a little angel in her way. She has got some private pupils in music, and is delighted to bringin grist to the mill, which grinds hard enough to make me realize theold days you are so fond of recollecting. 

"Don't ask me to send you the Lacustrian. I am ashamed of it, and ofmy own articles. Nothing will go down here but the most highlyspiced, and it is matter of life and death to us, as long as mymother lives, to keep on the swaying top of the poplar tree ofpopularity. You would despise the need, and talk of Felix, but it isdaily bread, and I cannot let my mother and sister starve foropinions of mine. One comfort for you is that if I ever do come homeagain to reign at Vale Leston, I shall have seen the outcome ofvarious theories of last year, and proved what is the effect ofhaving no class to raise a standard or to look up to. I don't thinkI shall be quite so bumptious, and I am quite sure I shall value myCherie's tenderness much better than I have ever done, more shame forme! Love to the bride and all at Vale Leston. There is an old ageof novelty about these eastern states, quite disgusting in comparisonwith the reverend dignity of such a place as Vale Leston. You neverthought that I appreciated it! You will find no fault with me onthat score now. The lake is beautiful enough, but I begin to hatethe sight of it, especially when a Yankee insists on my telling himwhether we have in all Europe anything better than a duck-pond incomparison. Little Lida is my drop of comfort, since she has ceasedto be mortally afraid of 'Brother. ' Love to all and sundry again. 

 "Your loving G. "

There was a consultation over this letter, which ended in JohnHarewood's volunteering to go to Genoa, and find out this Menotti orhis representative, returning in time for the wedding, and hopingthat the uncertainty would thus be over in time for the enjoyment ofa truly prosperous event. 

A letter that came before his departure rendered Geraldine doublyanxious for the decision. Mrs. Henderson sent it to her to read, saying that it was by Lady Merrifield's advice, since she thoughtthat it should be known how it was with Gerald, for even to Doloreshe had not told half what Ludmilla related. 

"MY DEAREST MRS. HENDERSON, "It is a long time since I received your dearest, kindest of letters, and if I did not answer it sooner, it was not from want of gratitude, but attendance on my poor dear mother and assistance to our landladyoccupies me at every minute that I can spare from giving musiclessons to some private families, and an evening class. I am verythankful to be able to earn something, so as to take off something ofthe burthen on my dear brother's shoulders. For, alas! the care andsupport of my mother and me weigh very heavily upon him. Theproprietor of the Lacustrian has parted with his other clerk, and mybrother has the entire business of not only writing, extracting for, and editing the paper, but of correcting the press, and he dares notremonstrate or demand better payment, as we live from week to week, and he could not afford to be dismissed. He is at the office allday, beginning at six in the morning to meet the centralintelligence, he only rushes home for his meals, and goes back towork till twelve or one o'clock at night. Even then he cannot sleep. I hear him tossing about with the pain in his back that sitting athis desk brings on, and his hands are so tired by writing, and withthe heat, which has been dreadful for the last few weeks, and hastaken away all the appetite he ever had. You would be shocked to seehim, he is so thin and altered; I cannot think how he is to continuethis, but he will not hear of my writing to Lady Travis Underwood. He is never angry, except when I try to persuade him, and you neversaw anything like his patience and gentleness to my poor mother. Shenever did either, she cannot understand it at all. At first shethought he wanted to coax the confession out of her, and when shefound that it made no difference, she could not recover from herwonder--he, whom she had deserted in his babyhood, and so cruellyinjured in his manhood, to devote himself to toiling for her sake, and never to speak harshly to her for one moment. She knew I lovedher, and she had always been good to me, except when O'Leary forcedher to be otherwise, but his behaviour has done more to touch herheart than anything, and I am sure she is, as Pere Duchamps says, asincere penitent. She is revived by the summer heat, and can situnder the stoop and enjoy the sweet air of the lake; but she is veryweak, and coughs dreadfully in the morning, just when it is cooler, and my brother might get some sleep. She tries to be good andpatient with us both, and it really does soothe her when my brothercan sit by her, and talk in his cheerful droll way; but he can staybut a very short time. He has to rush back to his horrid stuffyoffice, and then she frets after him and says, 'But what right have Ito such a son?' and she begins to cry and cough. "

"Ah!" said Clement, as Geraldine, unable to speak for tears, gave himthe letter. "This is a furnace of real heroism. "

"Christian heroism, I am sure, " said Geraldine. "Oh, my boy, I amproud of him. He will be all the better for his brave experiment. "

"Yes, he had an instinct that it would be wholesome, besides theimpelling cause. Real hardship is sound training. "

"If it is not too hard, " said she. 

"'Let not their precious balms break my head, '" said Clement. 

"I do not like that pain in the back. Remember how he dragged hislimbs when first we had him at home, and how delicate he was up tothirteen—-only eight years ago!"

"Probably it will not last long enough to do him much harm. "

"And how nobly uncomplaining he is!"

"This has brought out all the good we always trusted was in reserve. "

"Better than Emilia's experiment, " sighed Geraldine. 

For Emilia Vanderkist, before her year was over, was at home, havingbroken down, and having spent most of her holidays with Mrs. PeterBrown, the wife of Sir Ferdinand's partner. She had come back, notlooking much the worse for her hospital experience, but with animmense deal to say of the tyranny of the matron, the rudeness of thenurses to probationers, the hardness and tedium of the work to whichshe had been put, and the hatefulness of patients and of doctors. 

Anna sympathized with all the vehemence of her sisterly affection, and could hardly believe her aunts, who told her that things musthave changed in a wonderful manner since the time of Angela'sexperiences, for she had been very happy in the same place, and madeno complaints. 

Emilia had written to her cousin Marilda to express her willingnessto return so soon as the Travis Underwoods should come home, and inthe meantime she remained at Vale Leston, not showing quite as muchtolerance as might be expected of the somewhat narrow way of life ofher sisters. She did not like being a lodger, as it were, in Sophy'sbedroom; she found fault with the parlour-maid's waiting, complainedof the noise of the practising of the three little sisters, andaltogether reminded Geraldine of Alda in penance at home. 

Major Harewood was detained longer than he expected, for on arrivingat Genoa he found that Menotti had migrated, and had to follow him tohis villa on the Apennines, where, in the first place, he had toovercome the old man's suspicions that he was come to recoverBenista's means on behalf of his family, and then at last was assuredthat the man had been dead long before 1870. Still John Harewoodthought it well to obtain positive evidence, and pursued the quest toInnspruck, where Menotti averred that the man had been left by hiscompanions dying in the care of some Sisters of Charity. 

So it proved. At Innspruck, the record of the burial of GiovanniBenista, a native of Piedmont, was at length produced, dated the 12thof February, 1868, happily and incontestably before Zoraya's marriageto Edgar Underwood!

John Harewood made haste to telegraph the tidings to Vale Leston andto Jonesville, and came home exultant, having dispelled the cloudthat had brooded over the family for nearly a year, and given themfreely to enjoy the wedding. 

Would they do so the more or the less for Emilia's announcement thatshe had a letter from Mr. Ferdinand Brown, eldest son of SirFerdinand's partner, offering her marriage, and that she had acceptedhim? He was, of course, a rich man, but oh! how Emily, Annie, andGerald had been wont to make fun of him, and his parents. 

"But, my dear Nan, " said she, "I shall be able to do much more goodin that way. "

"Oh!"

"And really I cannot go back to those intolerable backgammon eveningsat Kensington Palace Gardens. "

CHAPTER XXXIII. A MISSIONARY WEDDING

Till the smooth temper of my age might beLike the high leaves upon the holly tree. -—SOUTHEY. 

The neighbourhood said that nothing was ever done at Vale Lestonaccording to the conventionalities, and the Devereux wedding was aninstance. 

Lancelot had brought word that Bishop Norman May had actually arrivedfrom New Zealand for a half-year's visit, bringing with him theyounger missionary Leonard Ward, and that Dr. May's happiness wasunspeakable. "A renewed youth, if he needed to have it renewed. "

Clement and William Harewood went over to see them, and returnedgreatly impressed, and resolved on convoking the neighbourhood to bestirred in the cause of the Pacific islands. At the same time, oneof the many letters from Lady Rotherwood about arrangements endedwith—-"My husband hopes you will be able to arrange for us to beintroduced to your connections of the May family, the Bishop, Mr. Ward, and the good old doctor of whom we have heard so much. "

"We must invite them all to the wedding, " said Mrs. Harewood, who, asstill inhabiting the Priory, would be the hostess. 

"Certainly, " returned William Harewood, "but I don't think Mr. Wardwould come. He looks like an ancient hermit. "

"The best way, " said Mrs. Grinstead, "would be to finish up thewedding-day with a missionary garden-party. "

"Geraldine!" said Lady Vanderkist from her sofa, in feeble accents ofdismay; but Mrs. William Harewood hardly heard, and did not notice. 

"It would be the most admirable plan. It would give people somethingto do, and make a reason for having ever so many more. "

"Baits cleverly disposed, " said William. "The S. P. G. To attractWard, Ward to attract the Marquis, and the Marquis to attract theherd. "

"Everybody throngs to the extremest outskirts of a wedding, " saidGeraldine. 

"They may have the presents on view in the long room, " said Wilmet. 

"Provided they don't have the list of them printed, " said Geraldine. "Lance won't put them into the 'Pursuivant'; it is disgusting!"

"So I have always thought, " said Robina; "but you hardly makeallowances for the old ladies who love to spell them out. "

"The Marquis of Rotherwood-—a gold-topped dressing-case; Miss KerenHappuch Tripp-—a pincushion, " said Geraldine. "It is the idlestgossip, and should not be encouraged. "

"And, " added Robina, "as we go out through the cloister there willhappily be no rice. Will has stopped it in the churchyard. "

"And fortunately we have no school-boys to reckon with, except Adrianand Fely, who will be quite amenable. "

For Kester Harewood was in India, and Edward on the Mediterranean;Adrian was at home, doing credit to Miss Mohun, and so vehementlycollecting stamps, that he was said to wish to banish all his friendsto the most remote corners of the earth to send them home. 

Francie's elder sisters declined being bridesmaids, so that Phyllisand Mysie were the chief, and the three young sisters, Wilmet, Alda, and Joan, with two little Underwoods and two small Harewoods, all inwhite frocks and sashes, were to attend and make a half-circle roundthe bride. 

All took effect as had been purposed, each party being equallydesirous that it should be truly a Christian wedding, such as mightbe a fit emblem of the great Marriage Feast, and bring a blessing—-joyous and happy, yet avoiding the empty pomp and foolish mirth thatmight destroy the higher thoughts. 

How beautiful Vale Leston church looked, decked with white roses, lilies, and myrtle! The bride, tall and stately in her flowing veiland glistening satin train, had her own sweet individuality, not tooclosely recalling the former little bride. She came on her uncleClement's arm, as most nearly representing a father to her, and themarriage blessing was given by the majestic-looking Bishop, with thetwo chief local clergy, Mr. William Harewood and Mr. Charles Audley, taking part of the service. It was a beautiful and impressive scene, and there was a great peace on all. It was good to see the intensebliss on Ivinghoe's face as he led his bride down the aisle, andalong the cloister; and as they came into the drawing-room, after shehad received an earnest kiss, and "my pretty one" from his father, itwas to Dr. May that he first led her. Dr. May, his figure stillerect, his face bright and cheery, his brow entirely bare, and hissoft white locks flowing over his collar. He held out his hands, "Ah, young things! You are come for the old man's blessing! Trulyyou have it, my lady fair. You are fair indeed, as fair within aswithout. You have a great deal in the power of those little hands, and you-—oh yes, both of you, believe, that a true, faithful, loving, elevating wife is the blessing of all one's days, whether it be onlyfor a few years, or, as I trust and pray it may be with you, for along—-long, good, and prosperous life together. "

The two young things bent their heads, and he blessed them with hisblessing of eighty years. Lord Rotherwood's eyes were full of tears, as he said in a choked voice—-

"Thank you, sir, " while Franceska murmured to Mysie—-

"I do like that he should have been the first to call me 'my lady. '"

The luncheon included only the two families, and the actualassistants at the wedding, and it was really very merry. LadyRotherwood did inspire a little awe, but then Alda, sitting near, knew exactly how to talk to her, and Alda, who, like Geraldine, haddressed herself in soft greys and whites, with her delicate cheeksflushed with pleasure and triumph, looked as beautiful as ever, andfar outshone her twin, whose complexion and figure both had becomethose of the portly housewife. 

Meta, otherwise Mrs. Norman May, had eyes as bright and lively asever, though face and form had both grown smaller, and she was morelike a fairy godmother than the Titania she had been in times of old. She had got into the middle of all the varieties of children, draggedthither by Gertrude's Pearl and Audrey, and was making them happy. 

Ethel and Geraldine never could come to the end of what they had tosay to one another, except that Ethel could but be delighted to makeher friend know the brother of her early youth; and show her thegrave, earnest-looking man who had suffered so much, and whose hairwas as white as the doctor's, his face showing the sunburn of thetropics; and the crow's-feet round his eyes, the sailor's habit ofsearching gaze. He did not speak much, but watched the merry younggroups as if they were a sort of comedy in his eyes. 

They were very merry, especially when the doctor had proposed thehealth of the bride, and her brother, Sir Adrian, was called on toreturn thanks for her. 

"Gentlemen and ladies, " he said, "no, I mean ladies and gentlemen, I am very much obliged to you all for the honour you have done mysister. I can tell Lord Ivinghoe she is a very good girl, and verynice, and all that, when she is not cocky, and doesn't try to keepone in order. "

The speech was drowned in laughter, and calls to Ivinghoe to mindwhat he was about, and beware of the "new woman. "

So the young couple were seen off to spend their honeymoon inScotland, and the rest of the party could pair off to enjoy theirrespective friends, except that Mary and Sophy had to exhibit thewedding presents to all and sundry of the visitors of all degrees whobegan to flock in. 

Seats were ranged on the lawn, and when every one had had time towonder at everything, from Lady Rotherwood's set of emeralds, down tothe choirboys' carved bracket, the house-bell was rung, and all hadto take their places on the lawn, fairly shaded by house, cloister, and cedar tree, and facing the conservatory, whose steps, with theterrace, formed a kind of platform. It is not needful to go throughall, or how John Harewood, as host, explained that they had thoughtthat it would be well to allow their guests to have the advantage ofhearing their distinguished visitors tell of their experiences. Andso they did, the Bishop pleading the cause of missions with hiswonderful native eloquence, as he stood by the chair where his fathersat listening to him, as to a strain of sweet music long out ofreach. Then Leonard Ward simply and bluntly told facts about thePacific islands and islanders, that set hearts throbbing, andimpelled more than one young heart to long to tread in the likecourse. 

Then Lord Rotherwood thanked and bungled as usual, so that GustaveTanneguy would have a hard matter to reduce what he called the"aristocratic tongue" to plain English, or rather reporter's English. The listeners were refreshed with tea, coffee, and lemonade, andthere was a final service in the church, which many gladly attended, and thus ended what had been a true holiday. 

CHAPTER XXXIV. RIGHTED

Perhaps the cup was broken here, That Heaven's new wine might show more clear. E. B. BROWNING. 

 "No. 14, Huron St. , Jonesville, Ohio, "July 19. 

"MY DEAR MADAM, "You were so kind as to tell me to write to your ladyship if we werein any difficulty or distress, and I have often longed to do so, butmy brother always said that we had no right to trespass on yourgoodness. Now, however, things are at such a pass that I think youwill hear of us with true compassion. I do not know whether he toldyou that we met my poor mother on board a steamer upon this lake. Her husband had been drowned in a wreck while crossing, and she wasreduced to great poverty, and had also, from exposure, contracteddisease of the lungs, which, the doctor said, must terminate fatallyin a few months. My brother took charge of her, and has supported usever since, now four months, by working at the editorship of theLacustrian Intelligencer, with such small assistance as I could giveby music lessons. It involved severe labour at desk work and latehours, and his health has latterly given way, his back and lowerlimbs being gradually affected, and last Monday even his hands provedhelpless. My poor mother broke another blood-vessel on Sunday, anddied ten minutes later. My brother desired me to sell his dearviolin and his watch to pay the funeral expenses, but after that Iknow not what we can do, as he is quite helpless, and can hardly beleft even for the sake of my small earnings. Dear Lady TravisUnderwood, pray help us, as I know you and Sir Ferdinand love my poordear generous brother, and will not think him ungrateful for havingdeclined your kindness while he could support himself and us. Nodoubt we shall get help from England, but not for some time, so Idare to ask you. 

 "I remain, your humble servant, "LUDMILLA. 

"P. S. -—Everybody knows him as Jerry Wood. We are at Mr. MacMahon's, 14 Huron Street. "

This sad letter, in Lida's neat pupil-teacher's hand, came enclosedwithin a longer letter from Marilda. 

 "Grand National Hotel, Jonesville. "July 23rd. 

"MY DEAR GERALDINE, "You will believe that this letter from poor Lydia made Fernantelegraph at once to her, and hurry off as soon as we could reach thetrain. We found things quite as bad or worse than we expected. Thepoor children were living in two rooms in a wretched little house ofan Irish collier, who with his wife happily has been very kind tothem, and says that nothing could surpass their goodness to that poormother of theirs, who, she tells me, 'made a real Christian end' atlast. I am sure she had need to do so. 

"The burial was happily over, conducted by the French priest, as thewoman was a Roman Catholic to the last. Gerald was sitting up by thewindow, so changed that we should not have known him, except for thewonderful likeness to Felix that has come upon him. It seems that hehad not only all the writing of that horrid paper to do, but all thecompositor's work, or whatever you call it. The people put upon himwhen they saw how well he could do it, and he could not refusebecause his mother needed comforts, and he durst not get thrown outof employment. He went on, first with aching back, then his legs gotstiff and staggering, but still he went on, and now it has gone intohis hands; he cannot hold a pen, and can hardly lift a tea-cup. Buthe is so cheerful, almost merry. The doctor says it is a paralyticaffection, and that overwork has developed the former disease fromthe old injury to the spine, which seemed to have passed off, andthere is intermittent fever about him too, a not uncommon thing inthese low-lying lake districts. We have moved him to this GrandNational Hotel, a big, half-inhabited place, but better than theMacMahons' house, though the good woman cried over him and Lydia attheir farewells, and said she never should see such a young gentlemanand lady again with hearts so like ould Ireland. She would hardlytake the money that Fernan offered her; she said they had brought ablessing on her house with their tender, loving ways. 

"Fernan is gone to Milwaukee to get further advice and more comfortsfor Gerald, and we mean, as soon as he can be moved, to take him homewith us, since the air of the Rockies will revive him if anythingwill. This place is fearfully hot and oppressive; the bay seems toshut out air from Lake Erie, and I cannot bear to think what thatpoor boy must have gone through in that close little den, with theprinting-press humming and stamping away close to him; but he says itis his native element, and that when he is better he must go toFiddler's Ranch. He sends his love, and fears that you have missedhis letters, but he could hardly write them, and thought Lydia mightalarm you. He is a very dear boy, and I do hope we make himcomfortable; he is so thankful for the little we can do for him, andso patient. He tells me to give special love to Francie, and say heis glad that Mona's game of chess was played out with a goodsubstitute for Ferdinand. These are his words, which no doubt shewill understand. We think of moving next week, but much depends onthe doctor's verdict. My love too to the dear Francie; she will be agreat lady, quite beyond our sphere. Perhaps she may be able to giveEmily some amusements, though I fear they will only make her morediscontented with our humdrum ways. I never thought hospital workwould suit her. Gerald says there is nothing like trying one'stheories, and that having to exaggerate his own has made him sick ofa good deal of them, though not of all. Poor dear boy, I hope hewill live to show the benefits he says he has derived from this sadtime. It shall not be for want of anything we can do. He is as nearour hearts as ever his dear father was, and Lydia is a dear littlegirl. 

 "Your ever affectionate cousin, "MARY ALDA TRAVIS UNDERWOOD. "

It was a great shock, though mitigated by hearing that Gerald was insuch hands as those of his first friend, and kind Marilda; but therewas great surprise at no notice being taken of the tidings thatsecured Gerald's position. John Harewood had telegraphed them, butit only now fully broke on him that he ought to have sent them toJerry Wood instead of Gerald Underwood, so that Italian telegramswere not to blame. 

On one thing Clement ventured, being nearly certain that the reactionof Gerald's mind would not include the preventing of all Penbeaconworks. He encouraged young Bramshaw to set about the plans so as tomake the washings as innocuous as possible, being persuaded that thiswas the only way to prevent more obnoxious erections on ground justbeyond. Moreover, this gave the lovers hope, and Alda had, underClement's persuasion and rebukes, withdrawn her opposition to theengagement, so that Sophy was free to wander about Penbeacon with herPhilip, and help to set up his theodolite, and hold the end of hismeasuring-tape. 

Her mother could not well stand out on the score of unequal birth, when Mr. Ferdinand Brown, whose father had swept out the office, camedown and was accepted with calm civility, it could not be calleddelight, even by Emilia. 

But he was a worthy young man, and well educated, and it was for hissake that Clement and Geraldine had stayed on at the Priory, givingthe Harewoods and their curates holidays in turn; though even thisamount of work was enough to leave with Clement a dread convictionthat his full share of St. Matthew's would be fatal to him, insomuchthat he had written to the patron, the Bishop of Albertstown, seriously to propose resignation. 

Fresh letters arrived from America, the first slightly more cheery, but the next was dated from Violinia, to the general surprise, and itwas very short, from Sir Ferdinand. 

"DEAR CLEMENT, "We have the telegram, a relief to the poor lad's mind, but he hasnot spoken much since. It came just as we were starting in aninvalid Pullman, fitted with every comfort; but the jars of theselines are unavoidable and unspeakable, and he suffered so terribly, as well as so patiently, that we had to give up our intention oftaking him to Underwood. The one thing he begged for was that wewould take him to Fiddler's Ranch. You know there is a mission-station here, so we have him in the clergyman's house, and the placeis so advanced that he has every comfort. But I doubt whether thedear boy will ever move again. He is perfectly helpless, but hisbrain quite clear, and his spirits good. 

 "Ever yours, "F. A. TRAVIS UNDERWOOD. "

There followed a long letter, dictated by Gerald himself, and partlywritten by Lida, partly by Marilda, at several different times. 

"DEAREST, MOST DEAREST CHERIE, AND ALL—-

"I should like to be able to sign my name to my thanks to all, ifonly to feel that I have a name, and one so honoured, but thesefingers of mine will not obey me, so you must take the will for thedeed, and believe that you have made me very happy, and completed allI could wish. I fear you never will believe how jolly it is to liehere, the pain all gone, since having done with that terrific train, and the three tenderest, most watchful of slaves always round me, while my Cherie is spared the sight of the wreck. —-(L. )

"You know that good old Fernan established a missionary station here, building a church, and getting the ground consecrated where my fatherlies. I can just see the top of the cross, and there he promisesthat I shall lie. You will be able to put my name in the cloisterunder my father's, as no impostor. 

"Don't grieve, my Cherie, it is best as it is; my brains were full ofmore notions than you ever quite guessed, and of which I have seenthe seamy side out here, though there is much that I should feelbound to work out, and that might have grieved you. I was not toughenough for the discipline that was needed to strike the balance. (Heis thinking aloud, dear fellow. -—M. A. ) I am afraid I have oftenvexed you in my crudeness and conceit, but I know you forgive. I amvery thankful for this year, and for the way in which my poor motherwas given into my hands at last. Fernan has helped me to make ashort will, to save confusion and difficulty. 

I have left everything to Clement, knowing that you and he willprovide for all. Fernan and Marilda will care for Lida. (That wewill. -—M. A. ) I cannot leave her to be a tax on Vale Leston. Givemy books and MSS. To Dolores, and please be kind to her. My violin, which Fernan redeemed for me, the eponym (How do you spell it?-—M. A. ), by the way, of this place, my father's own fiddle, give to Lancefor his pretty Ariel; Anna, my good sister, should have my music, which will be a memory of happy evenings. Emmie may like theportfolio of drawings that I made for the mission-house; dear oldSibby the photograph in my room of the 'Ecce Homo. ' I have it in myeye now. -—(M. A. )

"Everything is such a comfort, Fernan and Marilda are the best ofnurses and helpers, and I mourn for the folly that chaffed about themand boredom. Tell Emmie so. Fernan has made this place a littleoasis round my father's grave, and his parson, who has a missionamong the remains of the Sioux, is with me every other day, and doesall that Clement could desire for me. So do-—do believe that it isall for the best, dear people. -—(L. )

"One thing good is, that I shall not bring any bad blood into theUnderwood inheritance. By the bye, tell them-—(Continued by Marilda)Mr. Gracchus Van --— suddenly arrived here, greatly shocked atGerald's state, and actually wanting to marry Lydia on the spot—-which of course she declined. But Fernan was pleased with him, andhe told him he had never met any one to hold a candle to 'JerryWood, ' so 'smart' and 'chipper, ' as he saw at first, and thencheerful, good-humoured, and kindly, whatever happened. None of yourBritisher's airs, but ready to make the best of any fixings. I don'tthink dear Gerald meant me to tell all this, but think of thedifference from the fastidious fine gentleman he used to be! He isdozing now, I fear he is getting weaker; but he is ever so sweet andgood, and I quite long to beg his pardon for having called him yourspoilt boy. Mr. Fraser, the clergyman here, is very much struck withhim, and Fernan remembers the time when he baptized him as he layunconscious. Dear Cherry, it will grieve you, but I think there willbe comfort in the grief. 

 "Your affectionate cousin, "M. A. T. U. "

There were long letters to Dolores, dictated to Lida-—all in the samespirit. One of them said, "Go bravely on, my Dolores; though we donot live together in our bicycle-roving castles. You will do goodwork if you uphold the glory of God and the improvement of man, allthrough creation and science. I should like to talk it over withyou. Things are plainer to me than in the days of my inexperienceand cocksureness. Short as the time was, in months, it showed memuch more, especially my own inefficiency to deal with the greatproblems of these times, perhaps of all times. Remember this, but goon-—if we do but put grains of sand into the great Edifice. "

More was written, but these were the most memorable extracts, beforethe letter that told that something like a fresh stroke had come, andtaken away the power of distinct speech, then that the throat hadfailed, and there was only one foreboding more to be told, and soonrealized. The young ardent spirit, trained by so short a discipline, had passed away in peace. And they laid him beside his father, whosebetter spirit he had unconsciously evoked, and whom he had loved sodeeply. The doctors said that the real cause of his death had beenthe Indian bullet, inflicting injury on the spine, which theelasticity of youth had for the time overcome, but which manifesteditself again under overstrain. Ferdinand, when he awoke the childback to life, had given him years not spent in vain for himself orfor others. 

It would have been utter desolation to the little sister save for themotherly tenderness of Marilda, who took her to the home in the RockyMountains, and would fain have adopted her, but that Lida, actingperhaps on advice from her brother, only begged to be so educated asto fit her to be independent, and to be given a start in life. Itwould be shown in a year or two whether her vocation should bemusical or scholastic. 

Gerald had his meed of tears at home, but not bitter ones. Nay, those that had the most quality of bitterness were Emilia's, shed insecret lest interpretations should be put on those that had thequality of remorse, as she recollected the high aspirations that hadended so differently in the two cousins. 

Dolores dried hers, to feel a consecration on her studies and herlabours as she grew forward to the fulfilment of her purpose of beinga leading woman in the instruction and formation of young minds, working all the better for the inspiriting words and example, and themore gently and sympathizingly for the love that was laid up in herheart. 

She and his "Cherie" came to have a great affection and understandingof each other, and discussed what Dolores called "ethics" with warminterest, the elder lady bringing the old and sacred lights to bearon the newer theories. 

Clement was the undoubted owner of Vale Leston, and the JohnHarewoods had decided on leaving the Priory. Just at the same time, when the acceptance of Clement's resignation of St. Matthew's hadarrived, William Harewood was offered a canonry at Minsterham, withthe headship of the theological college. The canonry had been thesummit of his ambition when a boy, and there was no one fitter thanhe for the care of a theological college. He was pre-eminently ascholar, and his fifteen years of parish experience made goodpreparation for training young clergy. 

So Clement could decide on presenting himself to the living of ValeLeston, with a staff of curates, and Geraldine to be his home sister, making the Priory a resting-place for overworked people, whetherclergy, governesses, or poor, or mission-folk at home. It was atrust to be kept for Lancelot and his boy, who would make the summerhome of the family there, to Dr. May's great content. It was apeaceful home, and to every one's surprise, Alda decided to remain athand, chiefly to keep her boy under his uncle's influence, which thusfar was keeping him well in hand, and as he would go to a publicschool with little Felix, might be prolonged. 

It was a comfort and encouragement to feel that hereditary dangersand temperament could be subdued and conquered in Gerald; and if thesins of parents had their consequence in the children, the scourgemight become a palm. When the commemorative brass in the cloisterwas to be put up, Geraldine said—-

"I should like to put 'Rejoice with me, for I have found the piecethat was lost. '"

"He never was lost. "

"Oh no, no, my dear boy. But his work was so like the finding thestained, tarnished piece of silver, cast aside, defaced, dust-marked, and by simple duty and affection bringing her back. "

"I see! Let us have the inscription in Greek. Then none can applyit to himself! It was a wonderful work, and it is strange thathaving fulfilled it, he who brought the child from his father's armsshould lay him to his rest beside his father. "

THE END