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 CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 FROM 
 
 C.S.Northup 
 
PR 5912 84°''"^" ""'""^'*'' '-"'"'^ 
 
 Beechcroft. 
 
 3 1924 013 577 170 
 
B Cornell University 
 y Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013577170 
 
•■ PROMISE 1 " CRIED THE BOYS. Beeohcrott, p. 77. 
 
/\(^3i^^^- 
 
P R E P A C E 
 
 Or those^who are invited to pay a visit to Beechcroft, 
 there are some, who, honestly acknowledging that amuse- 
 ment is their object, will ho content to feel with LiUas, 
 conjecture with Jane, and get into scrapes with Phyllis, 
 without troubling themselves to extract any moral from 
 their proceedings ; and to these the Mohun family would 
 only apologize for having led a very humdrum life during 
 the eighteen months spent iu their company. 
 
 There may, however, be more unreasonable visitors, 
 who, professing only to come as parents and guardians, ex- 
 -pect entertainment fo? themselves, as well as instruction 
 fpr those who had rather it was out of sight — look for an- 
 tiques in carved cherry stones — and require plot, incident, 
 and catastrophe in a chronicle of small beer. 
 
 To these, the Mohuns beg respectfully to observe, that 
 they hope their examples may not be altogether devoid of 
 indirect instruction ; and lest it should be supposed that 
 
they lived witliout object, aim, or principle, ttey would 
 observe, tbat the maxim wHcb bas influenced the delineation 
 of tbe different scenes and characters is, that feeling, un- 
 guided and unrestrained, soon becomes mere selfishness ; 
 while the simple endeavour to fulfil each immediate claim 
 of duty, may lead to the highest acts of self-devotion. 
 
 H"ew CoukT, Beeohoeoft, Jan. XZth. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 I. The Elder Sisteh, 
 
 n. The New Cocet, 
 
 III The New Pkinciple, 
 
 TV. Honest Phtl, . 
 
 V. Village Gossip, . . 
 
 VI. The New Feiend, . 
 
 VII. SiK Maceice, 
 
 VIII. The Beothebs, 
 
 IX. The Wasp, .... 
 
 X. Cousin EotHerwood, 
 
 XI. Dasciso, 
 
 XII. The Fever, . 
 
 XIII. A CoKiosiTY Trap, 
 
 XrV. Christmas, 
 
 XV. Minor Misfortunes, 
 
 XVI. Vanitt and Vexation, 
 
 XVn. Little Agnes, 
 
 XVIII. Double Double Toil and Teouble, 
 
 XIX. The Rector's Illness, . 
 
 PAOB 
 
 7 
 . 11 
 
 20 
 
 . 29 
 
 37 
 
 . 53 
 
 62 
 
 . 78 
 
 100 
 . 107 
 
 121 
 . 128 
 
 140 
 . 152 
 
 162 
 . 180 
 
 191 
 . 201 
 
 214 
 
D CONTENTa. 
 
 OirAP. PAGE 
 
 XX. The Little Nephew, . . . 219 
 
 XXI. Chaeitt Begins at Hosie, .... 226 
 
 XXII. The Baeonial Court, .... 240 
 
 XXin. Joys and Soreows, .... 246 
 
 XXrV. Love's Labour Lost, . . . .253 
 
 XXV. The Thirtieth of July, .... 265 
 
 XXVI. The Crisi^ . . 285 
 
 XXVIL Conclusion, . . , . 300 
 
BEECHCROFT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE ELDER SISTER. 
 
 " Ketarn, and in the daily round 
 Of dntj and of love, 
 Thou best wilt find that patient faith 
 That lifts the soul above." 
 
 Eleanor Mohust, was tlie eldest child of a gentleman of 
 old family, and good property, who had married the sister 
 of his friend and neighbour, the Marquis of Rotherwood. 
 The first years of her life were marked by few events. 
 She was a quiet, steady, useful girl, finding her chief plea- 
 sure in nursing and teaching her brothers and sisters, and 
 her chief annoyance in her mamma's attempts to make her 
 a fine lady ; but before she had reached her nineteenth 
 year, she had learned to know real anxiety and sorrow. 
 Her mother, after suffering much from grief at the loss of 
 two brothers, fell into so alarming a state of health, that 
 her husband was obliged ilnmediately to hurry her away to 
 Italy, leaving the younger children under the care of a 
 
O EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 governess, and the elder boys at school, while Eleanor alone 
 accompanied them. 
 
 Their absence lasted nearly three years, and during the 
 last winter, an engagement commenced between Eleanor 
 and Mr. Francis Hawkesworth, rather to the surprise of 
 Lady Emily, who wondered that he had been able to dis- 
 cover the real worth veiled beneath a formal and retiring 
 manner, and to admire features which, though regular, had 
 a want of light and animation, which diminished their 
 beauty even more than the thinness and compression of the 
 lips, and the very pale grey of the eyes. 
 
 The family were about to return to England, where 
 the marriage was to take place, when Lady Emily was 
 attacked with a sudden illness, which her weakened frame 
 was unable to resist, and in a very few days she died, leav- 
 ing the little Adeline, about eight months old, to accom- 
 pany her father and sister on their melancholy journey 
 homewards. This loss made a great change in the views of 
 Eleanor, who, as she considered the cares and annoyances 
 which would fall on her father, when left to bear the whole 
 burthen of the management of the children and household, 
 felt it was her duty to give up her own prospects of hap- 
 piness and to remain at home. How could she leave the 
 tender little ones to the care of servants — trust her sisters 
 to a governess, and make her brothers' home yet more 
 dreary ? She knew her father to be strong in sense and 
 firm in judgment, but indolent, indulgent, and inattentive 
 to details, and she could not bear to leave him to be har- 
 assed by the petty cares of a numerous family, especially 
 when broken in spirits and weighed down with sorrow. 
 She thought her duty was plain, and, accordingly, she wrote 
 to Mr. Hawkesworth, to beg him to allow her to withdraw 
 her promise. 
 
THE ELDER SISTER. 9 
 
 Her brother Henry was the only person who knew what 
 slie had done, and he alone perceived something of tremu- 
 lousness about her, in the midst of the oven cheerfulness 
 with which she had from the first supported her father's 
 spirits. Mr. Mohun, however, did not long remain in 
 ignorance, for Frank Hawkesworth himself arrived at 
 Beechcroft to plead his caus^with Eleanor. He knew her 
 value too well to give her up, and Mr. Mohun would not 
 hear of her making such a sacrifice for his sake. But 
 Eleanor was also firm, and after weeks of unhappiness and 
 uncertainty, it was at length arranged that she should 
 remain at home, till Emily was old enough to take her 
 place, and that Frank should then return from India and 
 claim his bride. 
 
 Well did she discharge the duties which she had under- 
 taken; she kept her father's mind at ease, followed out his 
 views, managed the boys with discretion and gentleness, 
 and made her sisters well-informed and accomplished girls ; 
 but, for want of fully understanding the characters of her 
 two nest sisters, Emily and Lilias, she made some mistakes 
 with regard to them. The clouds of sorrow, to her so 
 dark and heavy, had been to them but morning mists, and 
 the four years which had changed her from a happy girl 
 into a thoughtful, anxious woman, had brought them to an 
 age, which, if it is full of the follies of childhood, also par- 
 takes of the earnestness of youth ; an age, when efeep 
 foundations of enduring confidence may be laid by one who 
 can enter into, and direct the deeper flow of mind and feel- 
 ing which lurks hid beneath the freaks and fancies of the 
 early years of girlhood. But Eleanor had little sympathy 
 for freaks and fancies. She knew the realities of life too 
 well to build airy castles with younger and gayer spirits ; 
 her sisters' romance seemed to her dangerous folly, and 
 
10 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 their lively nonsense, levity and frivolity. They were too 
 cluldisli to share in her confidence, and she was too busy 
 and too much pre-ocoupied to have ear or mind for visionary 
 trifles, though to trifles of real life she paid no small degree 
 of attention. 
 
 It might have been otherwise had Henry Mohuu lived ; 
 but, in the midst of the aiffiction of all who knew him, 
 honour from those who could appreciate his noble charac- 
 ter, and triumphs gained by his uncommon talents, he was 
 cut off by a short illness, when not quite nineteen, a most 
 grievous loss to his family, and above all to Eleanor. 
 Unlike her as he was, joyous, high spirited, full of fun, and 
 overflowing with imagination and poetry, there was a very 
 close bond of union between them, in the strong sense of 
 duty, the firmness of purpose, and energy of mind which 
 both possessed, and which made Eleanor feel perfect 
 reliance on him, and look up to him with earnest admira- 
 tion. With him alone she was unreserved; he was the 
 only person who could ever make her show a spark of live- 
 liness, and on his death, it was only with the most painful 
 efforts that she could maintain her composed demeanor and 
 fulfil her daily duties. Years passed on, and still she felt 
 the blank which Harry had left, almost as much as the first 
 day that she heard of his death, but she never spoke of 
 him, and to her sisters, it seemed as if he was forgotten. 
 The. reserve which had begun to thaw under his influence, 
 again returning, placed her at a still greater distance from 
 the younger girls, and unconsciously she became still more 
 of a governess and less of a sister. Little did she know 
 of the "blissful dreams in secret shared," between Emily, 
 Lilias, and their brother Claude, and little did she perceive 
 the danger that Lilias would be run away with, by a lively 
 imagination, repressed and starved, but entirely untrained 
 
THE NEW COURT. 11 
 
 Whatever influenced Lilias, liad, through her, nearly 
 the- same effect upon Emily, a gentle girl, easily led, espe- 
 cially by Lilias, whom she regarded with the fondest affec- 
 tion and admiration. The perils of fancy and romance 
 were not, however, to be dreaded for Jane, the fourth sis- 
 ter, a strong resemblance of Eleanor in her clear common 
 sense, love of neatness, and active usefulness; but there 
 were other dangers for her, in her tendency to faults, which, 
 under wise training, had not yet developed themselves. 
 
 Such were the three girls, who were now left to assist 
 each other in the management of the household, and who 
 looked forward to their new offices with the various sensa- 
 tions of pleasure, anxiety, self-importance, and self-mistrust, 
 suited to their differing characters, and to the ages of 
 eighteen, sixteen, aad fourteen. 
 
 CilAPTER II. 
 
 T E ?fl NEW C O U E. T 
 
 ** J'jet at the age 'twixt boy and youtli. 
 When taought is speech, and speech is truth."' 
 
 The long-dek-jS'l ■?7Ed!iing took place on the 13th of Janu- 
 ary, 1845, and the bride and bridegroom immediately 
 departed for a year's visit among Mr. Hawkesworth's rela- 
 tions in Northumberland, whence they were to return to 
 Beeohcroft, merely for a farewell, before sailing for India. 
 It was half-past nine in the evening, and the wedding 
 over — Mr. and Mrs. Hawkesworth gone, and the guests de- 
 parted, the drawing-room had returned to its usual state. It 
 
12 eijGhteen months at beechceoft. 
 
 was a very large room, so spacious that it would have been 
 waste and desolate, had it not been well filled with handsome, 
 but heavy old-fashioned furniture, covered with crimson da- 
 mask, and one side of the room fitted up with a book-case, so 
 high that there was a spiral flight of library steps to give ac- 
 cess to the upper shelves. Opposite, were, four large win- 
 dows, now hidden by their ample curtains ; and near them 
 was at one end of the room a piano, at the other a drawing 
 desk. The walls were wainscoted with polished black oak, the 
 panels reflecting the red fire-light like mirrors. Over the 
 chimney-piece, hung a portrait by Vandyke, of a pale, dark 
 cavalier, of noble mien, and with arched eyebrows, called 
 by Lilias, in defiance of dates, by the name of Sir Maurice 
 de Mohun, the hero of the family, and allowed by every 
 one to be a striking likeness of Claude, the youth who at 
 that moment lay, extending a somewhat superfluous length 
 of limb upon the sofa, which was placed commodiously at 
 right angles to the fire. 
 
 The other side of the fire was Mr. Mohun's special 
 domain, and there he sat at his writing table, abstracted by 
 deafness and letter writing, from the various sounds of 
 mirth and nonsense, which proceeded from the party round 
 the long narrow sofa table, which they had drawn across 
 the front of the fire, leaving the large round centre table in 
 darkness and oblivion. 
 
 This party had within the last half hour been somewhat 
 thinned; the three younger girls had gone to bed, the Eec- 
 tor of Beechcroft, Mr. Eobert Devereux, had been called 
 home to attend to some parish business, and there remained 
 Emily and Lilias — tall graceful girls, with soft hazel eyes, 
 clear dark complexions, and a quantity of long brown curls. 
 The latter was busily completing a guard for the watch, 
 which Mr. Hawkesworth had presented to Reginald, a fine 
 
THE 'NEW COURT. 13 
 
 handsome boy of eleven, who, with his elbows on the table, 
 sat contemplating her progress, and sometimes teasing his 
 brother Maurice, who was earnestly engaged in constructing 
 a model with some cards, which he had pilfered from the 
 heap before Emily. She was putting her sister's wedding 
 cards into their shining envelopes, and directing them in 
 readiness for the post the next morning, while they were 
 sealed by a youth of the same age as Claude, a small slim 
 figure, with light complexion and hair, and dark grey eyes 
 full of brightness and vivacity. He was standing, so as to 
 be more on a level with the high candle, and as Emily's 
 writing was not quite so rapid as his sealing, he amused 
 himself, in the intervals, with burning his own fingers by 
 twisting the wax into odd shapes. 
 
 " Why do not you seal up his eyes ? " enquired Reginald, 
 (vith an arch glance towards his brother on the sofa. 
 
 " Do it yourself, you rogue," was the answer, at the 
 same time approaching with the hot sealing wax in his 
 hand — a demonstration which occasioned Claude to open 
 his eyes very wide, without giving himself any further 
 trouble about the matter. 
 
 " Eh?" said he, "now they try to look innocent, as if 
 no one could hear them plotting mischief." 
 
 " Them ! it was not I — Redgie there — ^young ladies— 
 I appeal — was not I as innocent ? ' — was the very rapid, 
 incoherent and indistinct answer, 
 
 " After so lucid and connected a justification, no more 
 can be said," replied Claude, in a kind of " leave me, leave 
 me to repose" tone, which occasioned Lilias to say, " I am 
 afraid you are very tired." 
 
 " Tired ! what has he done to tire him ? " 
 
 " I am sure a wedding is a terrible wear of spirits ! ' 
 said Emily — '' such excitement." 
 
14 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHOE.0FT. 
 
 " Well— ^wlicn I give a spectacle to the family next 
 year, I mean to tire you to some purpose." 
 
 -•" Eh ? " said Mr. Mohun, looking up, " is Eotherwood's 
 wedding to be the next ?" ^ 
 
 " You ought to understand, uncle," said Lord Eothcr- 
 wood, making two steps towards him, and speaking a little 
 more clearly," " I thought you longed to get rid of your 
 nephew and his concerns." 
 
 '' You idle boy ! " returned Mr. Mohun, " you do not 
 mean.to have the imiiertinence to come of age next year." 
 
 " As much as having been born on the 30th of July, 
 1825, can make me." 
 
 " But what good will your coming of age do us ?" said 
 Lilias, " you will be in London or Brighton, or some such 
 stupid place." 
 
 " Do not be senseless, Lily," returned her cousin, 
 " Devereux castle is to be in splendour — Hetherington in 
 imazement — the county's hair shall stand on end. Illu- 
 minations, bonfires, feasts, balls, colours flying, bands play- 
 ing, tenants dining, fireworks" — 
 
 " Hurrah ! jolly ! jolly ! " shouted Eeginald, dancing 
 jn the ottoman, " and mind there are lots of squibs." 
 
 " And that Master Reginald Mohun has a new cap and 
 bells for the occasion," said Lord Eotherwood. 
 
 " Let me make some fireworks," said Maurice. 
 
 " You will begin like a noble baron of the hospitable 
 olden time," said Lily. 
 
 " It will be like the old days when every birthday of 
 yours was a happy day for the people at Hetherington," 
 said Emily. 
 
 " Ah ! those were happy old days," said Lord Eother- 
 wood, in a graver tone. 
 
THE NEW COURT. 15 
 
 " These are happy days, are not they ? " said Lily, 
 smiling. 
 
 Her cousin answered with a sigh, " Yes, but you do not 
 remember the old ones, Lily ;" then after a pause, he added, 
 " It was a grievous mistake to shut up the castle all these 
 years. We have lost sight of everybody. I do not even 
 know what has become of the Aylmers." 
 
 " They went to live in London," said Emily, " aunt 
 Robert used to write to them there." 
 
 " I know, I know, but where are they now ? " 
 
 " In London, I should think," said Emily. " Some one 
 said Miss Aylmer was gone out as a governess." 
 
 " Indeed ! I wish I could hear more ! Poor Mr. Ayl- 
 mer ! He was the first man who tried to teach me Latin. 
 I wonder what has become of that mad fellow Edward, 
 and Devcreux, my father's godson ! Was not Mrs. Aylmer 
 badly off? I cannot bear that people should be forgotten ! " 
 
 " It is not so very long that we have lost sight of 
 them," said Emily. 
 
 " Eight years," said Lord Rotherwood. " lie died six 
 weeks after my father. Well ! I have made my mother 
 promise to come home." 
 
 " Really ? said Lilias, " she has been coming so often." 
 
 " Aye — but she is coming this time. She is to spend 
 the winter at the castle, and make acquaintance with all 
 the neighbourhood." 
 
 " His Lordship is romancing," said Claude to Lily, in 
 a confidential tone. 
 
 " I'll punish you for suspecting me of talking hyper- 
 borean language — hyperbolical, I mean," cried Lord 
 Rotherwood, " I'll make you dance the Polka with ^11 the 
 beauty and fashion."- 
 
16 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECIICl.OFT. 
 
 "Then I shall stay at Oxford till it is over, said 
 Claude. 
 
 " You do not know what a treasure you will be," said 
 the Marquis, " ladies like nothing so well as dancing with a 
 fellow twice the height he should be." 
 
 " JBeware of putting me forward," said Claude, rising, 
 and, as he leant against the chimney-piece, looking down 
 from his height of six feet three, with a patronizing air, 
 upon his cousin, " I shall be taken for the hero, and you 
 for my little brother." 
 
 " I wish I was," said Lord Rotherwood, " it would be 
 much better fun. I should escape the speechifying, the 
 worst part of it." 
 
 " Yes," said Claude, " for one whose speeches .will be 
 scraps of three words each, strung together with the bur- 
 then of the apprentices' song, Kadara tadara, tandore." 
 
 " Radaratade," said the Marquis, laughing. " By the 
 bye, if Eleanor and Frank Hawkesworth manage well, they 
 may be here in time." 
 
 " Because they are so devoted to gaiety?" said Claude. 
 " You will say next that William is coming from Canada 
 on purpose." 
 
 " That tall captain ! " said Lord Rotherwood. " He 
 used to be a very awful person." 
 
 " Ah ! he used to keep the spoilt Marquis in order," 
 said Claude. 
 
 " To say nothing of the spoilt Claude," returned Lord 
 Rotherwood. 
 
 " Claude never was spoilt," said Lily. 
 
 " It was not Eleanor's way," said Emily. 
 
 " At least she cannot be accused of spoiling me," said 
 Lord Rotherwood. " I shall never dare to write at that 
 
THE NEW COURT. 17 
 
 round table again — ^her figure will occupy tlie chair like 
 Bancjuo's ghost, and wave me off with a knitting needle." 
 
 " Ah ! that stain of ink was a worse blot on your char- 
 acter than on the new table cover," said Claude. 
 
 " She was rigidly impartial," said Lord Rotherwood. 
 
 " No," said Claude, " she made exceptions in favor of 
 Ada and me. She left the spoiling of the rest to Emily." 
 
 " And well Emily will perform it I A pretty state you 
 will be in by the 30th of July, 1846," said Lord Rother- 
 wood. 
 
 " Why should not Emily make as good a duenna as 
 Eleanor?" said Lily. 
 
 ""Why should she not? She will not, — that is all," 
 said the Marquis. " Such slow people you all are 1 You 
 would all go to sleep if I did not sometimes rouse you up 
 a little ! — grow stagnant." 
 
 " Not an elegant comparison," said Lilias, " besides you 
 must remember that your hasty brawling streams do not 
 reflect like tranquil lakes." 
 
 " One of Lily's poetical hits, I declare ! " said Lord 
 Rotherwood, " but she need not have taken offence — I did 
 not refer to her — only Claude and Emily, and perhaps— 
 no, I will not say who else." 
 
 " Then Rotherwood, I will tell you what I am — the 
 Lily that derives all its support from the calm lake." 
 
 >,"Well done, Lily, worthy of yourself," cried Lord 
 Rotherwood, laughing, " but you know I am always off 
 when you talk poetry." 
 
 " I suspect it is time for us all to be off," said Claude, 
 " did I not hear it strike the quarter ? " 
 
 " And to-morrow I shall be off in earnest," said Lord 
 Rotherwood. " Half way to London before Claude baa 
 given one turn to his sides, and his shoulders, and his 
 heavy head." 
 
18 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BBECHCROFT. 
 
 " Shall we see you at Easter ? " said Emily. 
 
 " No, I do not think you will. I am engaged to stay 
 with somebody somewhere, I forgot the name of place and 
 man; besides, Grosvenor Square is more tolerable then 
 than at any other time of the year, and I shall spend a 
 fortnight with my mother and Florence. It is after Easter 
 that you come to Oxford, is not it, Claude ? " 
 
 " Yes, my year of idleness will be over. And there is 
 the Baron looking at his watch." 
 
 The " Baron" was the title by which the young people 
 were wont to distinguish Mr. Mohun, who, as Lily believed, 
 had a right to the title of Baron of Beechcroft. it was 
 certain vthat he was the representative of a family which 
 had been settled at Beechcroft ever since the Norman Con- ' 
 quest, and Lily was very proud of the name of Sir William 
 de Moune in the battle roll, and of Sir John among the 
 first Knights of the Garter. Her favourite was Sir Mau- 
 rice, who had held out Beechcroft Court for six weeks 
 against the Roundheads, and had seen the greater part of 
 the walls battered down. Witnesses of the strength of 
 the old castle yet remained in the massive walls and broad 
 green ramparts, which enclosed what was now orchard and 
 farm yard, and was called the Old Court, while the dwell- 
 ing-house, built by Sir Blaurice after the Eestoration, was 
 named the New Court. Sir Maurice had lost many an 
 acre in the cause of King Charles, and his new mansion 
 was better suited to the honest squires who succeeded him, 
 than to the mighty Barons his ancestors. It was substan- 
 tial and well built, with a square gravelled court in front, 
 and great, solid, folding gates opening into a lane, bordered 
 with very tall, well-clipped holly hedges, forming a polished 
 green, prickly wall. There was a little door in one of 
 these gates, which was scarcely ever shut, from whence a 
 
THE NEW COURT. 49 
 
 well-worn path led to the porch, where generally reposed 
 a huge Newfoundland dog, guardian of the hoops and walk- 
 ing sticks that occupied the corners. The front door was 
 of heavy substantial oak, studded with nails, and never 
 closed in the day-time, and the hall, wainscoted and floored 
 with slippery oak, had a noble open fire-place, with a wood 
 fire burning on the hearth. 
 
 On the other side of the house was a terracQ sloping 
 down to a lawn and bowling green, hedged in by a formal 
 row of evergreens. A noble plane-tree was in the middle 
 of the lawn, and beyond it a pond renowned for water 
 lilies. To the left was the kitchen garden, terminating in 
 an orchard, planted on the ramparts and moat of the Old 
 Court; then came the farm buildings, and beyond them a 
 field, sloping upwards, to an extensive wood called Beech- 
 croft park. In the wood was the cottage of Walter Green- 
 wood, gamekeeper and woodman by hereditary succession, 
 but able and willing to turn his hand to anything, and, in 
 fact, as Adeline once elegantly termed him, the " family tee 
 totum." 
 
 To the right of the house was a field, called Long Acre, 
 bounded on the other side by the turnpike road to Rayn- 
 ham, which led up the hill to the village green, surrounded 
 by well kept cottages and gardens. The principal part of 
 the village was, however, at the foot of the hill, where the 
 Court lane crossed the road, led to the old Church, the 
 school, and parsonage, in its little garden, shut in by thick 
 yew hedges. Beyond was the blacksmith's shop, more cot- 
 tages, and Mrs. Appleton's wondrous village warehouse; 
 and the lane, after passing by the handsome old farm house 
 of Mr. Harrington, Mr. Mohun's principal tenant, led to a 
 bridge across a clear trout stream, the boundary of the 
 parish of Beechcroft. 
 
20* EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE NEW PRINCIPLE. 
 
 " And wilt thou show no more, quoth he, 
 Than doth thy dnty hind ? 
 I well perceive thy love is small." 
 
 On the Sunday evening wMcli followed Eleanor's wedding, 
 Lilias was sitting next to Emily, and talking in very ear- 
 nest tones, wliich after a time occasioned Claude to look 
 up and say, " What is all this about ? • Something remark- 
 ably absurd I suspect." 
 
 " Only a new principle," said Emily. 
 
 " New ! " cried Lily, " only what must be the feeling of 
 every person of any warmth of character?" 
 
 " Now for it then," said Claude. 
 
 " No, no, Claude, I really mean it (and Lily sincerely 
 thought she did). I will not tell you if you are going to 
 laugh." 
 
 " That depends upon what your principle may chance 
 to be," said Claude. " What is it, Emily ? She will be 
 much obliged to you for telling." 
 
 " She only says she cannot bear people to do their duty, 
 and not to act from a feeling of love," said Emily. 
 
 " That is not fair," returned Lily, " all I say is, that it 
 is better that people should act upon love for its own sake, 
 than upon duty for its own sake." 
 
 " What comes in rhyme with Lily?" said Claude. 
 
 " Don't be tiresome, Claude, I really want you to 
 understand me." 
 
THE NEW rRiNcirn:. 21 
 
 " Wait till you understand yourself," said the provok- 
 ing brother, " and let me finish what I am. reading." 
 
 For about a quarter of an hour he was left in peace, 
 while Lily was busily employed with a pencil and paper, 
 under the shadow of a book, and at length laid before tim 
 the following verses : 
 
 TMiat is the source of gentleness, 
 
 The spring of hnman blessedness, 
 
 Bringing the wounded spirit healing, 
 
 The comforts high of heaven revealing, 
 
 The lightener of each daily care. 
 
 The wing of hope, the life of prayer, 
 
 The zest of joy, the balm of sorrow, 
 
 Bliss of to-day, hope of to-morrow, 
 
 The glory of the sim's bright beam. 
 
 The softness of the pale moon stream, 
 
 The flow'ret's grace, the river's voice, 
 
 The tune to which the birds rejoice ; 
 
 "Without it, vain each learned page. 
 
 Cold and unfelt, each council sage. 
 
 Heavy and dull, each human feature. 
 
 Lifeless, and wretched, every creature, 
 
 In which alone the gloiy lies. 
 
 Which value gives to sacrifice ? 
 
 'Tis that which formed the whole creation, 
 
 "Which rests on eveiy generation. 
 
 Of Paradise the only token 
 
 Just left us, 'mid our treasures broken, 
 
 Which never can from us be riven. 
 
 Sure earnest of the joys of Heaven. 
 
 And which, when earth shall pass away, 
 
 Shall be our rest on the last day, 
 
 AVhen tongues shall f.ail, and knowledge ctdse, 
 
 And throbbing hearts be all at peace ; 
 
 When faith is sight, and hope is sure, 
 
 That which alone shall still endure 
 
 Of earthly joys m heaven above, 
 
 'Tis that best gift, eternal Love ! 
 
22 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 " What have you there ? " said Mr. Mohun, who had 
 come towards them while Claude was reading the lines. 
 Taking the paper from Claude's hand, he read it to himself, 
 and then saying, " Tolerable, Lily ; there are some things 
 to alter, but you may easily make it passable," he went on 
 to his own place, leaving Lilias triumphant. 
 
 " "Well, Claude, you see I have the great Baron on my 
 side." 
 
 " I am of the Baron's opinion," said Claude, " the only 
 wonder is that you doubted it." 
 
 " You seemed to say that love was good for nothing." 
 
 " I said nothing but that Lily has a rhyme." 
 
 " And saying that I was silly, was equivalent to saying 
 that love was nothing," said Lily. 
 
 " Lily, I hope not," said Claude, with a comical air. 
 
 " Well, I know I often am foolish, but not in this," said 
 Lily, " I do say that mere duty is not loveable." 
 
 " Say it if you will then," said Claude, yawning, " only, 
 let me finish this sermon." 
 
 Lily set herself to reconsider some of her lines ; but 
 presently Emily left the room, Claude looked up, and Lily 
 exclaimed, " Now, Claude, let us make a trial of it." 
 
 " Well," said Claude, yawning again, and looking 
 resigned. 
 
 " Think how Eleanor went on telling us of duty, duty, 
 duty — never making allowances — never relaxing her stiif 
 rules about trifles — never unbending from her duenna-like 
 dignity — never showing one spark of enthusiasm — making 
 great sacrifices, but only because she ■ thought them her 
 duty — because it was right — good for herself — only a 
 higher kind of selfishness — not because her feeling prompted 
 her." 
 
 " Certainly, feeling does not usually prompt people to 
 
THE NEW PRINCirLE. 23 
 
 give up their lovers for the sake of their brotLeis and sis- 
 ters." 
 
 " Slie did it because it was her duty," said Lily, " quite 
 as if she did not care." 
 
 " I wonder whether Frank thought so," said Claude. 
 
 " At any rate, you will confess that Emily is a much 
 more engaging person," said Lily. 
 
 " Certainly, I had rather talk nonsense to her," said 
 Claude. 
 
 " Tou feel it, though you will not allow it," said Lily. 
 " Now think of Emily's sympathy, and gentleness, and 
 sweet smile, and tell me if she is not a complete personi- 
 fication of love. And then Eleanor, unpoetioal — ^never 
 thrown oif her balance by grief or joy, with no ups and 
 downs — no enthusiasm — ^no appreciation of the beautiful — 
 her highest praise, ' very right,' and tell me if there can be 
 a better image of duty." 
 
 Claude might have had some chance of bringing Lily 
 to her senses, if he had allowed that there was some truth 
 in what she said ; but he thought the accusation so unjust 
 in general, that he would not agree to any part of it, and 
 only answered, " You have very strange views of duty and 
 of Eleanor." 
 
 "Well!" replied Lily, "I only ask you to watch 
 Emily and I are determined to act on the principle of 
 love, and you will see if her government is not more suo 
 cessful than that of duty." 
 
 Such was the principle upon which Lily intended her 
 sister to govern the household, and to which Emily listened 
 without knowing what she meant much better than she did 
 herself. Emily's own views, as far as she possessed any, 
 were to get on assmoothly as she could, and make every 
 body pleased and happy, without much trouble to herself. 
 
24 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 and also to make the estatilislimeiit look a little more as if 
 a Lady Emily had lately been its mistress, than had been 
 the case in Eleanor's time. Mr. Mohun's property was 
 good, hut he wished to avoid unnecessary display and 
 expense, and he expected his daughters to follow out these 
 views, keeping a wise check upon Emily, by looking over 
 her accounts every Saturday, and turning a deaf ear, when 
 she talked of the age of the drawing room carpet, and the 
 ugliness of the old chariot. Emily had a good deal on her 
 hands, requiring sense and activity, but Lilias and Jane 
 were now quite old enough to assist her. Lily, however, 
 thought fit to despise all household affairs, and bestowed 
 the chief of her attention on her own department — the 
 village school and poor people ; and she was also much 
 engrossed by her music and drawing, her German and 
 Italian, and her verse writing. 
 
 Claude had more power over her than any one else. 
 He was a gentle, amiable boy, of high talent, but disposed 
 to indolence by ill health. In most matters he was, how- 
 ever, victorious over this propensity, which was chiefly visi- 
 ble in his love of easy chairs, and his dislike of active 
 sports, which made him the especial companion of his sis- 
 ters. A dangerous illness had occasioned his removal from 
 Eaton, and he had since been at home, reading with his 
 cousin Mr. Devereux, and sharing his sisters' amusements. 
 
 Jane was in her own estimation an important member 
 of the administration, and in fact, was Emily's chief assist- 
 ant and deputy. She was very small and trimly made, 
 every thing fitted her precisely, and she had tiny dexterous 
 fingers, and active little feet, on which she darted about 
 noiselessly and swiftly as an arrow, an oval brown face, 
 bright colour, straight features, and smooth dark hair, 
 bright sparkling black eyes, a little mouth, wearing an arch 
 
THE NEW PRINCIPLE. 25 
 
 Bubdued smile, very white tcetli, and altogether the air of 
 a woman in miniature. Brisk, hold and blithe — ever busy 
 and ever restless, she was generally known by the names 
 of Brownie and Changeling, which were not inappropriate 
 to her active and prying disposition. 
 
 Excepting Claude and Emily, the young party were 
 early risers, and Lily especially had generally dispatched a 
 good deal of business before the eight o'clock breakfast. 
 
 At nine they went to church, Mr. Devereus having 
 restored the custom of daily service, and after this, Mr. 
 Mohun attended to his multitudinous affairs ; Claude went 
 to the Parsonage, Emily to the store-room, Lily to the vil- 
 lage, the younger girls to the school-room, where they were 
 presently joined by Emily. Lily remained in her own 
 room till one o'clock, when she joined the others in the 
 school-room, and they read aloud some book of history till 
 two, the hour of dinner for the younger, and of luncheon 
 for the elder. They then went out, and on their return 
 from evening service, which began at half-past four, the 
 little ones had their lessons to learn, and the others were 
 variously employed till dinner, the time of which was rather 
 uncertain, but always late. The evening passed pleasantly 
 and quickly away, in reading, work, music, and chatter. 
 
 As Emily had expected, her first troubles were with 
 Phyllis ; called, not the neat handed, by her sisters, blaster 
 Phyl, by her brothers, and Miss Tomboy, by the maids. 
 She seemed born to be a trial of patience to all concerned 
 with her ; yet without many actual faults, except giddiness, 
 restlessness, and unrestrained spirits. In the drawing- 
 I'oom, school-room and nursery, she was continually in 
 scrapes, and so often reproved and repentant, that her loud 
 roaring fits of crying were amongst the ordinary noises of 
 the New Court. She was terribly awkward when, under 
 2 
 
26 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 constraint, or in learning any female accomplisliment, but 
 Bwift and ready when at her ease, and glorying in the boyish 
 achievements of leaping ditches and climbing trees. Her 
 voice was rather highly pitched, and she had an inveterate 
 habit of saying " I'll tell you what," at the beginning of 
 all her speeches. She was not tall, but strong, square, 
 firm, and active ; she had a round, merry face, a broad fore- 
 head, and large bright laughing eyes, of a doubtful shade 
 between grey and brown. Her mouth was wide, her noso 
 turned up, her complexion healthy, but not rosy, and her 
 stiff straight brown hair was more apt to hang over her 
 eyes, than to remain in its proper place behind her ears. 
 
 Adeline was very different ; her fair and brilliant com- 
 plexion, her deep blue eyes, and golden ringlets, made her a 
 very lovely little creature ; her quietness was a relief after 
 her sister's boisterous merriment, and her dislike of dirt 
 and brambles, continually contrasted with poor Phyllis's 
 recklessness of such impediments. Ada readily learnt 
 lessons, which cost Phyllis and her teacher hours of toil ; 
 Ada worked deftly when Phyllis's stiff fingers never will- 
 ingly touched a needle ; Ada played with a doll, drew on 
 scraps of paper, or put up dissected maps, while Phyllis 
 was in mischief, or in the way. A book was the only 
 chance of interesting her; but very few books took her 
 fancy enough to occupy her long ; — those few, however, she 
 read over and over again, and when unusual tanquillity 
 reigned in the drawing-room, she was sure to be found 
 curled up at the top of the library steps, reading one of 
 three books — " Robinson Crusoe," " Little Jack," or "Ger- 
 man Popular Tales." Then Emily blamed her ungraceful 
 position, Jane laughed at her uniform taste, and Lily pro- 
 posed some story about modern children, such as Phyllis 
 never, could like, and the constant speech was repeated. 
 
THE NEW PRINCIPLE. 27 
 
 " Only look at Ada !" till Phyllis considered her sister aa 
 a perfect model, and sighed over her own naughtiness. 
 
 " Grerman Popular Tales " were a recent introduction 
 of Claude's, for Eleanor had carefully excluded all fairy 
 tales from her sister's library ; so great was her dread of 
 works of fiction, that Emily and Lilias had never been al- 
 lowed to read any of the Waverley Novels, excepting " Guy 
 Mannering," which their brother Henry had insisted upon 
 leading aloud to them the last time he was at home, and 
 that had taken so strong a hold on their imagination, that 
 Eleanor was quite alarmed. 
 
 One day, Mr. Mohun chanced to refer to some passage 
 in " Waverley," and on finding that his daughters did not 
 understand him, he expressed great surprise at their want 
 of taste. 
 
 " Poor things," said Claude, " they cannot help it, do 
 not you know that Eleanor thinks the Waverley Novels a 
 sort of slow poison ? They know no more of them than 
 their outsides." 
 
 " Well, the sooner they know the inside, the better." 
 
 " Then may we really read them, papa ? " cried Lily. 
 
 " And welcome," said her father. 
 
 This permission once given, the young ladies had no 
 idea of moderation ; Lily's heart and soul were wrapped up 
 in whatever tale she chanced to be reading — she talked of 
 little else, she neglected her daily occupations, and was in 
 a kind of trance for about three weeks. At length she 
 was recalled to her senses by her father's asking her why 
 she had shown him no drawings lately. Lily hesitated for 
 a moment, and then said, " Papa, I am sorry I was so idle." 
 
 " Take care," said Mr. Mohun, " let us be able to give 
 a good account of ourselves when Eleanor comes." 
 
 " I am afraid, papa," said Lily, " the truth is, that my 
 
28 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 head has been bo full of ' Woodstock' for the last few days, 
 that I could do nothing." 
 
 " And before that ? " 
 
 " The ' Bride of Lammermoor.' " 
 
 " And last week ? " 
 
 " ' "Waverley.' Oh ! Papa I am afraid you must be 
 very angry with me." 
 
 " No, no, Lily, not yet," said Mr. Mohun, " I do not 
 think you quite knew what an intoxicating draught you 
 had got hold of, I should have cautioned you. Your neg- 
 ligence has not yet been a serious fault, though remember, 
 that it becomes so after warning." 
 
 " Then," said Lily, " I will just finish ' Peveril' at once, 
 and get it out of my head, and then read no more of the 
 dear books," and she gave a deep sigh. 
 
 " Lily would take the temperance pledge, on condition 
 that she might finish her bottle at a draught," said Mr. 
 Mohun. 
 
 Lily laughed, and looked down, feeling quite unable 
 to offer to give up " Peveril " before she had finished it, 
 but her father relieved her, by saying in his kind voice, 
 " No, no, Lily, take my advice, read those books, for most 
 of them are very good reading, and very pretty reading, 
 and very useful reading, and you can hardly be called a 
 well educated person if you do not know them ; but read 
 them only after the duties of the day are done — make 
 them your pleasure, but do not make yourself their slave." 
 
 " Lily," said Claude, the next morning, as he saw her 
 prepare her drawing-desk, " why are you not reading 
 ' Peveril ? ' " 
 
 " You know what papa said yesterday," was the answer. 
 
 " Oh ! but I thought your feelings were with poor 
 Julian in the Tower," said Claude. 
 
HONEST PHYL. 29 
 
 " My feelings prompt mo to sacrifice my pleasure in 
 reading about him to please papa, after he spoke so kindly." 
 
 " If that is always the effect of your principle, I shall 
 think better of it," said Claude. 
 
 Lily, w'h ether from her new principle, or her old habits 
 of obedience, never ventured to touch one of her tempters 
 till after five o'clock, but, as she was a very rapid reader, 
 she generally contrived to devour more than a sufiicient 
 quantity every evening, so that she did not enjoy them as 
 much as she would, had she been less voracious in her ap- 
 petite, and they made her complain grievously of the dul- 
 ness of the latter part of " Kussel's Modern Europe," 
 which was being read in the school-room, and yawn nearly 
 as much as Phyllis over the "Pragmatic Sanction." 
 However, when that book was concluded, and they began 
 " Palgrave's Aglo-Saxons," Lily was seized with a sudden 
 historical fever. She could hardly wait till one o'clock, 
 before she settled herself at the school-room table with 
 her work, and summoned every one, however occupied, to 
 listen to the reading. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HON E.S T PHYL. 
 
 " Multipllcfillon 
 Is a vexation." 
 
 It was a bright and beautiful afternoon in March, the 
 song of the blackbird and thrush, and the loud chirp of the 
 titmouse, came merrily through the school-room window, 
 mixed with the sounds of happy voices in the garden ; the 
 
30 EILHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECIICROFT. 
 
 western sun shone brightly in, and tinged the wnite wain- 
 scoted wall with yellow light, ,the cat sat in the window 
 seat, winking at the sun, and sleepily whisking her tail for 
 the amusement of her kitten, which was darting to and fro, 
 and patting her on the head, in the hope of rousing her to 
 some more active sport. 
 
 But in the midst of all these joyous sights and sounds, 
 was heard a dolorous voice repeating, " three and four are 
 — three and four are — oh dear ! they are — seven, no, bu.t 
 I do not think it is a four after all, is it not a one ? Oh 
 dear ! " And on the floor lay Phyllis, her hack to the 
 window, kicking her feet slowly up and down, and yawning 
 and groaning over her slate. 
 
 Presently the door opened, and Claude looked in, and 
 very nearly departed again instantly, for Phyllis at that 
 moment made a horrible squeaking with her slate pencil, 
 the sound above all others that he disliked. He, however, 
 stopped, and asked where Emily was. 
 
 " Out in the garden," answered Phyllis, with a tremen- 
 dous yawn. 
 
 " What are you doing here, looking so piteous ? " said 
 Claude. 
 
 " My sum," said Phyllis. 
 
 " Is this your time of day for arithmetic ? " asked ho. 
 
 " No," said Phyllis, " only I had not done it by one 
 o'clock to day, and Lily said I must finish it after learning 
 my lessons for to-morrow, but I do not think I shall ever 
 have done, it is so hard. Oh ! " (another stretch and a 
 yawn, verging on a howl,) " and Jane and Ada are sowing 
 the flower seeds. Oh dear ! Oh dear ! " and Phyllis's face 
 contracted, in readiness to cry. 
 
 " And is that the best position for doing sums ? " said 
 Claude. 
 
HONEST THYL. 31 
 
 " I was obliged to lie dowu hero, to get out of the way 
 of Ada's sum," said Phyllis, getting up. 
 
 " Get out of tlie way of Ada's sum ? " repeated Claude. 
 
 " Yes, she loft it on the table where I was sitting, where 
 I could see it, and it is this very one, so I must not look 
 at it; I wish I could do sums as fast as she can." 
 
 ".Could you not have turned the other side of the slate 
 upwards ? " said Claude smiling. 
 
 " So I could ! " said Phyllis, as if a new light had bro- 
 ken in upon her. " But then I wanted to be out of sight 
 of pussey, for I could not think a bit, while the kitten was 
 at play so prettily, and I kicked my heels to keep from 
 hearing the voices in the garden, for it does make me so 
 unhappy ! " 
 
 Some good-natured brothers would have told the little 
 girl not to mind, and sent her out to enjoy herself, but 
 Claude respected Phyllis's honesty too much to do so, and 
 he said, " Well Phyl, let me see the sum, and we will try if 
 we cannot conquer it between us." 
 
 Phyllis's face cleared up in an instant, as she brought 
 the slate to her brother. 
 
 " What is this ? " said he, " I do not understand." 
 
 " Compound Addition," said Phyllis, " I did one with 
 Emily yesterday, and this is the second." 
 
 " Oh ! these are marks between the pounds, shillings, 
 and pence," said Claude, " I took them for elevens ; well, 
 I do not wonder at your troubles, I could not do this sum 
 as it is set." 
 
 " Could not you indeed?" cried Phyllis, quite delighted. 
 
 " No indeed," said Claude, " suppose we set it again, 
 more clearly ; but how is this ? When I was in the school- 
 room, we always had a sponge fastened to the slate." 
 
 " Yes," said Phyllis, " 1 had one before Eleanor went, 
 
32 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 but my string broke, and I lost it, and Emily always for- 
 gets to give me another. I Tvill run and wash the slate in 
 the nursery ; but how shall we know what the sum is ? " 
 
 " Why, I suppose I may look at Ada's slate, though 
 you must not," said Claude, laughing to himself at poor 
 little honest simplicity, as he applied himself to cut a new 
 point to her very stumpy slate pencil, and she scampered 
 away, and returned in a moment with her clean slate. 
 
 " Oh, how nice and fresh it all looks ! " said she as he 
 get down the clear large figures, " I cannot think how you 
 can do it so evenly." 
 
 " Now Phyl, do not let the pencil scream if you can 
 help it." 
 
 Claude found that Phyllis's great difficulty was with the 
 farthings. She could not understand the fractional figures, 
 and only knew thus far, that " Emily said it never meant 
 four." 
 
 Claude began explaining, but his first attempt was far 
 too scientific. Phyllis gave a desponding sigh, looking so 
 mystified, that he began to believe that she was hopelessly 
 dull, and to repent of having ofiered to help her ; but at 
 'ast, by means of dividing a card into four pieces, he suc- 
 ceeded in making her comprehend him, and her eyes grew 
 bright with the pleasure of understanding. 
 
 Even then, the difficulties were not conquered, her ad- 
 dition was very slow, and dividing by twelve and twenty 
 seemed endless work; at length, the last figure of the 
 pounds was set down, the slate was compared with Adeline's, 
 and the sum pronounced to be right. Phyllis capered up 
 to the kitten and tossed it up in the air in her joy, then 
 coming slowly back to her brother, she said with a strange 
 awkward air, hanging down her head, " Claude, I'll tell you 
 what"— 
 
HONEST rnYL. 33 
 
 " Well, wliat?" said Claude. 
 
 " I should like to kiss you." 
 
 Then away she bounded, clattered down stairs, and flew 
 across the lawn to tell every one she met, that Claude had 
 helped her to do her sum, and that it was quite right. 
 
 " Did you expect it would be too hard for him, Phyl ? " 
 said Jane, laughing. 
 
 " No," said Phyllis, " but he said he could not do it as 
 it was set." 
 
 " And whose fault was that ? " said Jane. 
 
 " Oh ! but he showed me how to set it better," said 
 Phyllis, " and he said that when he learnt the beginning 
 of fractions, he thought them as hard as I do." 
 
 " Fractions ! " said Jane, " you do not fancy you have 
 come to fractions yet ! Fine w ork you will make of them 
 when you do ! " 
 
 In the evening, as soon as the children were gone to 
 bed, Jane took a paper out of her work-basket, saying, 
 " There, Emily, is my account of Phyl's scrapes through 
 this whole week, I told you I should write them all down." 
 
 " How kind ! " muttered Claude. 
 
 Regardless of her brother, who had not looked up from 
 his book, Jane began reading her list of poor Phyllis's 
 misadventures. " On Monday she tore her frock by climb- 
 ing a laurel tree, to look at a blackbird's nest." 
 
 " I gave her leave," said Emily. '■ Kachael had ordered 
 her not to climb ; and she was crying because she could 
 not see the nest that Wat Greenwood had found." 
 
 " On Tuesday, she cried over her French grammar, 
 and tore a leaf out of the old spelling-book." 
 
 " That was nearly out before," said Emily, " Maurice 
 and Redgie spoilt that long ago." 
 
 " I do not know of any thing on Wednesday, but on 
 2* 
 
84 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 Thursday, slie threw Ada down the steps out of the 
 nursery." 
 
 " Oh ! that accounts for the dreadful screaming that I 
 heard," said Claude, " I forgot to ask the meaning of it." 
 
 " I am sure it was Phyl that was the most dismayed, 
 and cried the loudest," said Lily. 
 
 " That she always does," said Jane. " On Friday we 
 had an uproar in the school-room about her hemming, and 
 on Saturday, she tumbled into a wet ditch, and tore her 
 bonnet in the brambles ; on Sunday, she twisted her ancles 
 together at Church." 
 
 " Well, there I did chance to observe her," said Lily, 
 " there seemed to be a constant struggle between her ancles 
 and herself, they were continually coming lovingly together, 
 but were separated the next moment." 
 
 " And to-day this sum," said Jane ; " seven scrapes in 
 one week ! I really am of opinion, as Kaohael says when 
 she is angry, that school is the best place for her." 
 
 " I think so too," said Claude. 
 
 " I do not know," said Emily, " she is very troublesome, 
 but—" 
 
 " Oh, Claude ! " cried Lily, ''you do not mean that you 
 would have that poor dear merry master Phyl sent to 
 school, she would pine away like a wild bird in a cage ; but 
 papa will never think of such a thing." 
 
 "If I thought of her being sent to school," said Claude, 
 " it would be to shield her from — the rule of love." 
 
 " Oh ! you think we are too indulgent," said Emily, 
 " perhaps we are, but you know we cannot torment a poor 
 child all day long." 
 
 " If you call the way you treat her indulgent, I should 
 like to know what you call severe." 
 
 " What do you mean, Claude ? " said Emily. 
 
HONEST PHYL. 35 
 
 " I call your indulgence sometliing like the tender mer- 
 cies of the wicked," said Claude. " On a fine day, when 
 every one is taking their pleasure in the garden, to shut 
 an unhappy child up in the school-room, with a hard sum 
 that you have not taken the trouble to teach her how to do, 
 and late in the day, when no one's head is clear for diffi- 
 cult arithmetic — " 
 
 " Hard sum, do you call it ? " said Jane. 
 
 " Indeed, I explained it to her," said Emily. 
 
 " And well she understood you," said Claude. 
 
 " She might have learnt, if she had attended," said Em- 
 ily, " Ada understood clearly, with the same explanation." 
 
 " And do not you be too proud of the effect of your 
 instructions, Claude," said Jane, " for when honest Phyl 
 came into the garden, she did not know farthings from 
 fractions." 
 
 " And pray Mrs. Senior Wrangler," said Claude, " will 
 you tell me where is the difference between a half-penny 
 •mi half a penny ? " 
 
 After a good laugh at Jane's expense, Emily went on, 
 ' Now Claude, I wQl tell you how it happened ; Phyllis is 
 so slow, and dawdles over her lessons so long, that it is 
 quite a labour to hear her ; Ada is quick enough, but if you 
 were to hear Phyllis say one column of spelling, you would 
 know what misery is. Then before she has half finished, 
 the clock strikes one, it is time to read, and the lessons are 
 put off till the afternoon. I certainly did not know that 
 she was about her sum all that- time, or I would have sent 
 her out as I did on Saturday." 
 
 " And the reading at one, is as fixed as fate," said 
 Claude. 
 
 " Oh no ! " said Jane, " when we were about old 
 ' Kusscll,' we did not begin till nearly two, butf since we 
 
36 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AF BEECIICROFT. 
 
 have been reading this book, Lily will never let us rest 
 till we begin ; site walks up and down, and hurries and 
 worries and — " 
 
 " Yes," said Emily, in a murmuring voice, " we should 
 do better if Lily would not make such a point of that one 
 thing ; but she never minds what else is cut short, and 
 she never thinks of helping me. It never seems to enter 
 her head how much I have on my hands, and no one does 
 anything to help me.'' 
 
 " Oh, Emily ! you never asked me," said Lily. 
 
 " I knew you would not like it," said Emily. " No, it 
 is not my way to complain, people may see how to help me 
 if they choose to do it." 
 
 " Lily, Lily, take care," said Claude in a low voice, 
 " is not the rule you admire, the rule of love of yourself? " 
 
 " Oh, Claude ! " returned Lily, " do not say so, you 
 know it was Emily that I called an example of it, not my- 
 self, and see how forbearing she has been. Now I see that 
 I am really wanted, I will help. It must be love, not 
 duty, that calls me to the school-room, for no one ever said 
 that was my province." 
 
 " Poor duty ! you give it a very narrow boundary." 
 
 Lilias, who, to say the truth, had been made more care- 
 ful of her own conduct, by the""wish to establish her iirinoi- 
 ple, really betook herself to the school-room for an hour 
 every morning, with a desire to be useful. She thought 
 she did great things in undertaking those tasks of Phyllis's 
 which Emily most disliked. But Lilias was neither patient 
 nor humble enough to be a good teacher, though she could 
 explain difficult rules in a sensible way. She could not, or 
 would not, understand the difference between dullness and 
 inattention ; her sharp hasty manner would frighten away 
 all her pixpil's powers of comprehension ; she sometimes 
 
VILLAGE GOSSir. 37 
 
 fell iuto the great error of scolding when Phyllis was doing 
 her best, and the poor child's tears flowed more frequently 
 than over. 
 
 Emily's gentle manner made her instructions far more 
 agreeable, though she was often neither clear nor correct in 
 her explanations ; she was contented if the lessons were 
 droned through in any manner, so long as she could say 
 they were done ; she disliked a disturbance, and overlooked 
 or half corrected mistakes rather than cause a cry. Phyllis 
 naturally preferred being taught by her, and Lily wa^ 
 vexed, and unwilling to persevere. She went to the school- 
 room expecting to be annoyed, created vexation for herself, 
 and taught in anything but a loving spirit. Still, however, 
 the thought of Claude, and the wish to do more than hei 
 duty, kept her constant to her promise, and her love ot 
 seeing things well done was useful, though sadly counter 
 balanced by her deficiency in temper and patience. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 VILLAGE GOSSir. 
 
 " The deeds we do, the words we say, 
 Into still air tlioy scorn to fleet 
 We count them past, 
 But they shall last." 
 
 Soon after Easter, Claude went to Oxford. He was much 
 missed by his sisters, who wanted him to carve for them at 
 luncheon, to escort them when they rode or walked, to hear 
 their music, talk over their books, advise respecting their 
 drawings, and criticise Lily's verses. A new subject of 
 interest was, however, arising for them in the neighbours 
 
38 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCKOFT. 
 
 who were sliortly expected to arrive at Broom Hill, a house 
 which had lately been built in a hamlet about a mile and a 
 'half from the New Court. 
 
 These new comers were the family of a barrister of the 
 name of Weston, who had taken the house for the sake of 
 his wife, her health having been much injured by her grief 
 at the loss of two daughters in the scarlet fever. Two 
 still remained, a grown up young lady, and a girl of eleven 
 years old, and the Miss Mohuns learnt with great delight, 
 that they should have near neighbours of their own age. 
 They had never had any young companions, as young 
 ladies were scarce among their acquaintance, and they had 
 not seen their cousin. Lady Florence Devereux, since they 
 were children. 
 
 It was with great satisfaction that Emily and Lilias set 
 out with their father to make the first visit, and they 
 augured well from the first sight of Mrs. Weston and her 
 daughters. Mrs. Weston was alone, her daughters being 
 out walking, and Lily spent the greater part of the visit in 
 silence, though her mind was made up in the first ten min- 
 utes, as she told Emily on leaving the house, " that Miss 
 Weston's tastes were in complete accordance with her 
 own." 
 
 " Kapid judgment,'' said Emily. " Love before first 
 sight. But Mrs. Weston is a very sweet person." 
 
 " And Emily, did you see the music-book open at 
 ' Angels ever bright and fair ? ' If Miss Weston sings 
 that as I imagine it 1" 
 
 " How could you see what was in the music-book at the 
 other end of the room ? I only saw it was a beautiful 
 piano. And what handsome furniture, it made me doubly 
 ashamed of our faded carpet and chairs, almost as old as the 
 house itself." 
 
VILLAGE GOSSir. 39 
 
 "Emily!" said Lily, in her most larnest tones, "I 
 would not change one of those dear old chairs for a king's 
 ransom ! " 
 
 The visit was in a short time returned, and though it 
 was but a formal morning call, Lilias found her bright 
 expectations realized by the sweetness of Alethea Wes- 
 ton's manners, and the next time they met, it was a deter- 
 mined thing in her mind that, as Claude would have said, 
 they had sworn an eternal friendship. 
 
 She had the pleasure of lionizing the two sisters over 
 the Old Court, telling all she knew and all she imagined 
 about the siege. Sir Maurice Mohun, and his faithful ser- 
 vant, Walter Greenwood. " Miss Weston," said she in 
 conclusion, "have you read ' Old Mortality?' " 
 
 " Yes," said Alethea, amused at the question. 
 
 " Because they say I am as bad as Lady Margaret 
 about the king's visit." 
 
 " I have not heard the story often enough to think so," 
 said Miss Weston, " I will warn you if I do." 
 
 In the mean time Phyllis and Adeline wore equally 
 charmed with Marianne, though shocked at her ignorance 
 of country matters, and, indeed, Alethea was quite diverted 
 with Lily's pity at the discovery that she had never before 
 been in the country in the spring. " What," she cried, 
 " have you never seen the tufts of red on the hazel, nor 
 the fragrant golden palms. And never heard the black- 
 bird rush twittering out of the hedge, nor the first night- 
 ingale's note, nor the nightjar's low chirr, nor the chatter- 
 ing of the rooks ? what a store of sweet memories you 
 have lost ! Why, how can you understand the beginning 
 Df the Allegro?" 
 
 Both the Miss Westons had so much pleasure in mak- 
 ing acquaintance with " these delights," as quite to com- 
 
lO EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT EEECHOKOFT. 
 
 pcnsate for their former ignorance, and soon the New Court 
 rang with their praises. Mr. Mohun thought very highly 
 of the whole family, and rejoiced in such society for his 
 daughters, and they speedily became so well acquainted, 
 that it was the ordinary custom of the Westons to take 
 luncheon at the New Court on Sunday. On her side, how- 
 ever, Alethea Weston felt some reluctance to become inti- 
 mate with the ladies of the New Court. She was pleased 
 with Emily's manners, interested by Lily's earnestness and 
 simplicity, and thought Jane a clever and amusing little 
 creature, but even their engaging qualities gave- her pain, 
 by reminding her of the sisters she had lost, or by making 
 her think how they would have liked them. ^ country 
 house and neighbours like these, had been the objects of 
 many vieions of their childhood, and now all the sweet 
 sights and sounds around her, only made her think how she 
 should have enjoyed them a year ago. She felt almost 
 jealous of Marianne's liking for her new friends, lest they 
 should steal her heart from Emma and Lucy ; but knowing 
 that these were morbid and unthankful feelings, she strug- 
 gled against them, and though she missed her sisters even 
 more than when her mother and Marianne were in greater 
 need of her attention, she let no sign of her sorrowful feel- 
 ing appear, and seeing that IMarianne was benefited in 
 health and spirits, by intercourse with young companions, 
 she gave no hint of her disinclination to join in the walks 
 and other amusements of the JMiss Mohuns. 
 
 She also began to take interest in the poor people. By 
 Mrs. Weston's request, Mr. Dcvereux had pointed out the 
 families which were most in need of assistance, and Alethea 
 made it her business to find out the best way of helping 
 them. She visited the village school with Lilias, and when 
 requested by her and by the Rector, to give her aid in 
 
VILLAGE GOSSIP. 41 
 
 teacliing, she did not like to refuse what might be a duty, 
 though she felt very diffident of her powers of instruction. 
 Marianne, like Phyllis and Adeline, became a Sunday 
 scholar, and was catechized with the others in Church. 
 Both Mr. Mohun and his nephew thought very highly of 
 the family, and the latter was particularly glad that Lily 
 should have some older person to assist her in those parish 
 matters which he left partly in her charge. 
 
 Mr. Devereus had been Rector of Beechcroft about a 
 year and a half, and had hitherto been much liked. His 
 parishioners had known him from a boy, and were interested 
 about him, and though very young, there was something 
 about him that gained their respect. Almost all his plans 
 were going on well, and things were on the whole, in a sat- 
 isfactory state, though no one but Lilias expected even 
 cousin Robert to make a Dreamland of Beechcroft, and 
 there were days when he looked worn and anxious, and the 
 girls suspected that some one was behaving ill. 
 
 " Have you a headache, Robert? " asked Emily, a few 
 evenings before Whit-Sunday, " you have not spoken three 
 words this evening.'' 
 
 " Not at all, thank you," said Mr. Dovereux, smiling, 
 " you need not think to make me your victim, now you 
 have no Claude to nurse." 
 
 " Then if it is not bodily, it is mental," said Lily. 
 
 "I am in a difficulty about the christening of Mrs. 
 Naylor's child." 
 
 " Naylor the blacksmith ? " said Jane, " I thought it 
 was high time for it td be christened. It must be six 
 weeks old." 
 
 " Is it not to be on "Whit-Sunday ? " paid Lily, discon- 
 golately. 
 
 " Oh no ! Mrs. Naylor will not hear of bringing the 
 
42 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEO'FT. 
 
 child on a Sunday, and I could hardly make lier think it 
 possible to bring it on Whit-Tuesday." 
 
 " Why did not you insist ? " said Lily. 
 
 " Perhaps I might, if there was no other holy day at 
 hand, or if there was not another viiiEculty, a point on 
 which I cannot give way." 
 
 " Oh ! the godfathers and godmothers," said Lily, 
 " does she want that charming brother of hers, Edward 
 Gage?" 
 
 " Yes, and what is worse, Edward Gage's dissenting 
 wife, and Dick Rodd, who shows less sense of religion than 
 •iny one in the parish, and has never been confirmed." 
 
 " Could you make them hear reason?" 
 
 " They were inclined to be rather impertinent," said 
 Mr. Devereux. " Old Mrs. Gage — " 
 
 " Oh ! " interrupted Jane, " there is no hopts for you, 
 if the sour Gage is in the pie." 
 
 "The sour Gage told me people were not so partic- 
 ular in her younger days, and perhaps they should not have 
 the child christened at all, since I was such a contrary gen- 
 tleman. Tom Naylor was not at home, I am to see him to 
 morrow." 
 
 " Well, I do not think Tom Naylor is as bad as the 
 rest," said Lily, " he would have been tolerable, if he had 
 married any one but Martha Gage." 
 
 " Yes, he is an open good-natured fellow, and I have 
 hopes of making an impression on him." 
 
 " If not," said Lily, " I hope papa will take away his 
 custom." 
 
 " What ? " said Mr. Mohun, who always heard any men- 
 tion of himself. Mr. Devereux repeated his history, and 
 discussed the matter with his uncle, only once interrupted 
 by an enquiry from Jane, about the child's name, a point 
 
VILLAGE GOSSIP. 43 
 
 on wLich she could gain no intelligcnca. His report the 
 next day was not decidedly unfavourable, though he scarcely 
 hoped the christening would be so soon as Tuesday. He 
 had not seen the father, and suspected he had purposely 
 kept out of the way. 
 
 Jane, disappointed that the baby's name remained a 
 mystery, resolved to set out on a voyage of discovery. 
 Accordingly^ as soon as her cousin was gone, she asked 
 Emily if she had not been saying that Ada wanted some 
 more cotton for her sampler. 
 
 " Yes," said Emily, " but I am not going to walk all 
 the way to Mrs. Appleton's this afternoon.'' 
 
 " Shall I go ? " said Jano. " Ada, run and fetch your 
 pattern." Emily and Ada were much obliged by Jane's 
 disinterested offer, and in a quarter of an hour, Ada's 
 thoughts and hands were busy in Mrs. Appleton's drawer 
 of many-coloured cotton. 
 
 " What a pity this is about Mrs. Naylor's baby," began 
 Jane. 
 
 " It is a sad story indeed. Miss Jane, I am sure it must 
 be grievous to Mr. Devereux," said Mrs. Appleton, '' Betsy 
 Wall said she had been there three times about it." 
 
 " Ah ! we all know that Walls have ears," said Jane, 
 " how that Betsy does run about gossiping ! " 
 
 " Yes, Miss Jane, there she bides all day long at the 
 stile, gaping, not a stitch does she do for her mother, I can- 
 not tell what is to be the end of it." 
 
 " And do you know what the child's name is to be, Mrs. 
 Appleton?" 
 
 " No, Miss Jane," answered Mrs. Appleton, " Betsy did 
 say they talked of naming him after his uncle, Edward 
 Grage, only Mr. Devereux would not let him stand." 
 
 " No " said Jane. " Since he married that dissenting 
 
44 EIGnTEEN MONTHS AT BEECIICROFT. . 
 
 wife, lie never comes near the Church, he is too much like 
 the sour Gage, as we call his mother, to he good for much. 
 But after all, he is not so bad as Dick Rodd, who has never 
 been confirmed, and has never shown any sense of religion 
 in his life." 
 
 " Yes, Miss, Dick Rodd is a sad fellow ; did you hear what 
 a row there was at the Mohun Arms last week. Miss Jane ? " 
 
 " Aye," said Jane, " and papa says he shall certainly 
 turn Dick Rodd out of the house as soon as the lease is 
 out, and it is only till next Michaelmas twelve-months.'' 
 
 " Yes, Miss, as I said to Betsy Wall, it would be more 
 for their interest to behave well." 
 
 " Indeed it would," said Jane, " Robert and papa were 
 talking of having their horses shod at Stoney Bridge, if 
 Tom Naylor will be so obstinate, only papa does not like 
 to give Tom up if he can help it, because his father was so 
 good, and Tom would not be half so bad if he had not 
 married one of the Gages." 
 
 " Here is cousin Robert coming down the lane," said 
 Ada, who had chosen her cotton, and was gazing from the 
 door. Jane gave a violent start, took a hurried leave of 
 Mrs. Appleton, and set out towards home ; she could not 
 avoid meeting her cousin. 
 
 " Oh, Jenny ! have you been enjoying a gossip with 
 your great ally ? " said he. 
 
 "We have only been bujing pink cotton," said Ada, 
 whose conscience was clear. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Mr. Devereux, " Beecheroft affairs would 
 soon stand still, without those useful people, Mrs. Apple- 
 ton, Miss Wall, and Miss Jane Mohun," and he passed on. 
 Jane felt her face colouring, his freedom from suspicion made 
 her feci very guilty, but the matter soon passed out of 
 her mind. 
 
VILLAGE GOSSIP, 45 
 
 Blithe Wliit-Sunday came, the five Bliss Mohuns 
 appeared in white frocks, new bonnets were plenty, the 
 white tippets of the children, and the bright shawls of the 
 mothers, made the village look gay ; Wat Greenwood stuck 
 a pink between his lips, and the green boughs of hazel and 
 birch decked the dark oak carvings in the Church. 
 
 And Whit-jMonday came. At half-past ten, the rude 
 music of the band of the Friendly Society, came pealing 
 from the top of the hill, then appeared two tall flags, 
 crowned with guelder roses and peonies, then the great blue 
 drum, the clarionet blown by red waistcoated and red faced 
 Mr. Appleton, the three flutes and the triangle, all at their 
 loudest, causing some of the spectators to start and others 
 to dance. Then behold the whole procession of labourers, 
 in white round frocks, blue ribbons in their hats, and tall 
 blue staves in their hands. In the rear, the confused mob, 
 women and children, cheerful faces and mirthful sounds 
 every where. These were hushed as the flags were lowered 
 to pass under the low roofed gateway of the Church-yard, 
 and all was still, except the trampling of feet on the stone 
 floor. Then the service began, the responses were made in 
 full and hearty tones, almost running into a chant, the old 
 133d Psalm was sung as loudly and as badly as usual, a 
 very short but very earnest sermon was preached, and forth 
 came the troop again. 
 
 Mr. Devereus always dined with the club in a tent, at 
 the top of the hill, but his uncle made him promise to come 
 to a second dinner at the New Court in the evening. 
 
 " Eobert looks anxious," said Lily, as she parted with 
 him after the evening service, " I am afraid something is 
 going wrong." 
 
 " Trust me for finding out what it is," said Jane. 
 
 " No, no, Jenny, do not ask him," said Lily, " if he 
 
46 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 tells US to relieve his mind, I am very glad he should make 
 friends of us, but do not ask. Let us talk of other things 
 to put it out of his head, whatever it may be." 
 
 Jane soon heard more of the cause of the depression 
 of their cousin's spirits than even she had any desire to do. 
 After dinner, the girls were walking in the garden, enjoy- 
 ing the warmth of the evening, when Mr. Devereux came 
 up to her and drew her aside from the rest, telling her that 
 he wished to speak to her. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Jane, " when am I to meet you at school 
 again ? You never told me which chapter I was to prepare, 
 I cannot think what would become of your examinations if 
 it was not for me, you could not get an answer to one 
 question in three." 
 
 " That was not what I wished to speak to you about,'' 
 said Mr. Devereux. " What had you been saying to Mrs. 
 Appleton when I met you at her door on Saturday ? " 
 
 The colour rushed into Jane's cheeks, but she replied 
 without hesitation, " Oh ! different things, La pluie et la 
 beau temps, just as usual." 
 
 " Cannot you remember anything more distinctly ? " 
 
 " I always make a point of forgetting what I talk about," 
 said Jane, trying to laugh. 
 
 " Now, Jane, let me tell you what has happened in the 
 village — as I came down the hill from the club-dinner — " 
 
 " Oh ! " said Jane, hoping to make a diversion, " Wat 
 Greenwood came back about a quarter of an hour ago, and 
 he—" 
 
 Mr. Devereux proceeded without attending to her, " As 
 I came down the hill from the club-dinner, old Mrs. Gage 
 came out of Naylor's house, and her daughter with her, in 
 great anger, calling me to account for having sjoken of her 
 
VILLAGE GOSSIP. 47 
 
 in a most unbecoming way, calling her the sour Grage, and 
 trying to set the Squire against them." 
 
 " Oh ! that abominable chattering woman,'' Jane ex- 
 claimed, " and Betsy Wall too, I saw her all alive about 
 something. What a nuisance such people are 1 " 
 
 " In short," said Mr. Devereux, " I heard an exagger- 
 
 ' ated account of all that passed here on the subject the other 
 
 day. Now, Jane, am I doing you any injustice in thinking 
 
 that it must have been through you, that this history went 
 
 abroad into the village ? " 
 
 " Well ! " said Jane, " I am sure you never told us that 
 it was any secret. When a story is openly told to half a 
 dozen people, they cannot be expected to keep it to them- 
 selves." 
 
 " I spoke uncharitably and incautiously," said he, " I 
 am willing to confess, but it is nevertheless my duty to sot 
 before you the great matter that this little fire has kin- 
 dled." 
 
 " Why, it cannot have done any great harm, can it? " 
 asked Jane, the agitation of her voice and laugh betraying 
 that she was not quite so careless as she wished to appear. 
 " Only the sour Gage will ferment a little." 
 
 " Oh, Jane ! I did not expect that you would treat this 
 matter so lightly." 
 
 '' But tell me, what harm has it done ? " asked she. 
 
 " Do you consider it nothing, that the poor child should 
 remain unbaptized, that discord should be brought into the 
 parish, that anger should bo on the conscience of your 
 neighbour, that he should be driven from the Church ?" 
 
 " Is it as bad as that ? " said Jane. 
 
 " We do not yet see the full extent of the mischief our 
 idle words may have done," said Mr. Devereux. 
 
 " But it is their own fault, if they will do wrong," said 
 
48 EIGfHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCKOFT. 
 
 Jane, " they ought not to he in a rage, we said nothing but 
 the truth." 
 
 " I wish I was clear of the sin," said her cousin. 
 
 " And after all," said Jane, " I cannot see that I was 
 much to blame, I only talked to Mrs. Appleton, as I have 
 done scores of times, and no one minded it. You only 
 laughed at me on Saturday, and papa and Eleanor never 
 scolded me." 
 
 " You cannot say that no one has ever tried to check 
 you," said the Rector. 
 
 " And how was I to know that that mischief-maker 
 would repeat it ? " said Jane. 
 
 " I do not mean to say," said Mr. Devereux, " that you 
 actually committed a greater sin than you may often have 
 done, by talking in a way which you knew would displease 
 your father. I know we are too apt to treat lightly the 
 beginnings of evil, until some sudden sting makes us feel 
 what a serpent we have been fostering. Think this a warn- 
 ing, pray that the evil we dread may be averted; but 
 should it ensue, consider it as a punishment sent in mercy. 
 It will be better for you, not to come to school to-morrow ; 
 instead of the references you were to have looked out, I 
 had rather you read over in a humhle spirit, the Epistle 
 of St. James." 
 
 Jane's tears by this time were flowing fast, and finding 
 that she no longer attempted to defend herself, her cousin 
 said no more. He joined the others, and Jane, escaping to 
 her own room, gave way to a passionate fit of crying. 
 Whether her tears were of true sorrow or of anger, she 
 could not have told herself; she was still sobbing on her 
 bed, when the darkness came on, and her two little sisters 
 came in on their way to bed, to wish her good night. 
 
VILLAGE GOSSIT. 49 
 
 " Oh I Jane, Jane, what is the matter, have you been 
 naughty ? " asked the little girls in great amazement. 
 
 "Never mind," said Jane, shortly, "good night,'' and 
 she sat up, and wiped away her tears. The children still 
 lingered, " Go away, do," said she. " Is Robert gone ?" 
 
 " No," said Phyllis, " he is reading the newspaper." 
 
 Phyllis and Adeline left the room, and Jane walked up 
 and down, considering whether she should venture to go 
 down to tea ; perhaps her cousin had waited tUl the little 
 girls had gone, before he spoke to Mr. Mohun, or perhaps 
 her red eyes might cause questions on her troubles ; she 
 was still in doubt, when Lily opened the door, a lamp in 
 her hand. 
 
 " My dear Jenny, are you here ? Ada told me you were 
 crying, what is the matter ? " 
 
 " Then you have not heard ? " said Jane. 
 
 " Only Robert began just now, ' Poor Jenny, she has 
 been the cause of getting us into a very awkward scrape,' 
 but then Ada came to tell me about you, and I came away." 
 
 " Tes," said Jane, angrily, " he will throw all the blame 
 upon me, when I am sure it was quite as much the fault of 
 that horrible Mrs. Appleton, and papa will be as angry as 
 possible." 
 
 " But what has happened ? " asked LUy. 
 
 " Oh ! that chatterer, that worst of gossipers, has gone 
 and told the Naylors and Mrs. Gage, all we said about 
 them the other day." 
 
 " So you told Mrs. Appleton ? " said Lily, " so that was 
 the reason you were so obliging about the marking thread. 
 Oh ! Jane, you had better say no more about Mrs. Apple- 
 ton ! And has it done much mischief? " 
 
 " Oh ! Mrs. Gage ' pitched' into Robert, as Wat Green- 
 wood would say, and the christening is off again." 
 3 
 
50 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT, 
 
 " Jane, this is frightful," said Lily, " I do not wonder 
 that you are unhappy.'' 
 
 " Well, I dare say it will all come right again," said 
 Jane, " there will only be a little delay, papa and Robert 
 will bring them to their senses in time." 
 
 " Suppose the baby was to die," said Lily. 
 
 " Oh ! it will not die," said Jane, " a great fat healthy 
 thing like that, likely to die indeed ! " 
 
 " I cannot make you out, Jane," said Lily. " If I had 
 done such a thing, I do not think I could have a happy 
 minute till it was set right." 
 
 " Well, I told you I was very sorry," said Jane, " only 
 I wished they would not all be so hard upon me. Robert 
 owns that he should not have said such things if he did 
 not wish them to be repeated." 
 
 " Does he ? " cried Lily, " how exactly like Robert that 
 is, to own himself in fault, when he is obliged to blame 
 others. Jane, how could you hear him say such things, 
 and not be overcome with shame ? and then to turn it 
 against him ! Oh ! Jane, I do not think I can talk to you 
 any more." 
 
 " I do not mean to say it was not very good of him," 
 said Jane. 
 
 " Good of him — what a word ! " cried Lily. ' Well, 
 good night, I cannot bear to talk to you now. Shall I say 
 any thing for you down stairs ? " 
 
 " Oh, tell papa and Robert I am very sorry," said Jane, 
 " I shall not come down again, you may leave the lamp." 
 
 On her way down stairs in the dark, Lilias was led by 
 the example of her cousin, to reflect that she was not with- 
 out some share in the mischief that had been done ; the 
 words which report imputed to Mr. Devereux, were mostly 
 her own, or Jane's. There was no want of candour in 
 
VILLAGE GOSSIP. 51 
 
 Lily, and as soon as she entered the drawing-room, she 
 went straight up to her father and cousin, and began, " Poor 
 Jenny is very unhappy, she desired me to tell you how 
 sorry she is. But I really believe that I did the mischief, 
 Robert. It was I who said those foolish things that were 
 repeated as if you had said them. It is a grievous aifair, 
 but who could have thought that we were doing so much 
 harm ? " 
 
 " Perhaps it may not do any," said Emily. " The Nay- 
 lors have a great deal of good about them." 
 
 "They must have more than I suppose, if they can 
 endure what Eobert is reported to have said of them," 
 said Mr. Mohun. 
 
 " What did you say, Eobert," said Lily, " did you not 
 tell them all was said by your foolish young cousins ? " 
 
 " I agreed with you too much to venture on contradict- 
 ing the report ; you know I could not even deny having 
 called Mrs. Gage by that name." 
 
 " Oh ! if I could do any thing to mend it ! " cried Lily. 
 
 But wishes had no effect, Lilias and Jane had to mourn 
 over the full extent of harm done by hasty words. After 
 the more respectable men had left the Mohun Arms on the 
 evening of Whit-Monday, the rest gave way to unrestrained 
 drunkenness, not so much out of reckless self-indulgence, 
 as to defy the Clergyman and the Squire. They came to 
 the front of the Parsonage, yelled and groaned for some 
 time, and ended by breaking down the gate. 
 
 This conduct was repeated on Tuesday, and on many 
 Saturdays following, some young trees in the Churchyard 
 were cut, and abuse of the Parson written on the walls — 
 the idle young men taking this opportunity to revenge their 
 own quarrels, caused by Mr. Devereux's former efforts for 
 their reformation. 
 
52 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEBCHCEOFT. 
 
 On Sunday, several cMldren were absent from suhool, 
 all those belonging to Farmer Gage's labourers were taken 
 away, and one man was turned off by the farmers for re- 
 fusing to remove his child. 
 
 Now that the war was carried on so openly, Mr. Mohun 
 considerd it his duty to withdraw his custom from one who 
 chose to set his Pastor at defiance. He went to the Forge, 
 and had a long conversation with the blacksmith, but 
 though he was listened to with respect, it was not easy to 
 make much impression on an ignorant, hot-tempered man, 
 who had been greatly offended, and prided himself on show- 
 ing that he would support the quarrel of his wife and her 
 relations against both Squire and Parson ; and though Mr. 
 Mohun did persuade him to own that it was wrong to be 
 at war with the Clergyman, the effect of his arguments 
 was soon done away with by the Gages, and no ground was 
 gained. 
 
 Mr. Gage's farm was unhappily at no great distance 
 from a dissenting chapel and school, in the adjoining parish 
 of Stony Bridge, and thither the farmer and blacksmith 
 betook themselves, with many of the cottagers of Broom 
 Hill. 
 
 One alone of the family of Tom Naylor refused to join 
 him in his dissent, and that was his sister, Mrs. Eden, a 
 widow, with one little girl about seven years old, who, 
 though in great measure dependant upon him for subsist- 
 ence, knew her duty too well to desert the Church, or to 
 take her child from school, and continued her even course, 
 toiling hard for bread, and uncomplaining, though often 
 much distressed. All the rest of the parish who were not 
 inamediately under Mr. Mohun's influence, were in a sad 
 Btato of confusion. 
 
 Jane was grieved at heart, but would not confess it, 
 
THE NEW FRIEND. 53 
 
 aad Lilias was so restless and unhappy, that Emily was 
 quite weary of her lamentations. Her best comforter was 
 Miss Weston, who patiently- listened to her, sighed with 
 her over the evident sorrow of the Rector, and the mischief 
 in the parish, and proved herself a true friend, by never 
 attempting to extenuate her fault. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE NEW FRIEND. 
 
 " Maidens should be mild and ineok, 
 Swift to hear, and slow to speak." 
 
 Miss Weston had been much interested by what she heard 
 respecting Mrs. Eden, and gladly discovered that she was 
 just the person who could assist in some needle-work which 
 was required at Broom HiU. She asked Lilias to tell her 
 where to find the cottage, and Lily replied by an oiTer to 
 show her the way ; Miss Weston hesitated, thinking that 
 perhaps in the present state of things, Lily had rather not 
 see her ; but her doubts were quickly removed by this 
 speech, " I want to see her particularly. I have been there 
 three times without finding her. I think I can set this ter- 
 rible matter right by speaking to her." 
 
 Accordingly, Lilias and Phyllis set out with Alethea 
 and Marianne one afternoon to Mrs. Eden's cottage, which 
 stood at the edge of a long field at the top of the hill. 
 Very fast did Lily talk aU the way, but she grew more 
 silent as she came to the cottage, and' knocked at the door. 
 It was opened by Mrs. Eden herself, a pale, but rather 
 
54 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 pretty young woman, with a remarkably gentle and pleasing 
 face, and a manner which was almost lady-like, although 
 her hands were freshly taken out of the wash-tub. She 
 curtsied low, and coloured at the sight of Lilias, set chairs 
 for the visitors, and then returned to her work. 
 
 " Oh 1 Mrs. Eden,'' Lily began, intending to make her 
 explanation, but feeling confused, thought it better to wait 
 till her friend's business was settled, and altered her speech 
 into " Miss Weston is come to speak to you about some 
 work." 
 
 Mrs. Eden looked quite relieved, and Alethea pro- 
 ceeded to appoint the day for her coming to Broom Hill, 
 and arrange some small matters, during which Lily not 
 only settled what to say, but worked herself into a fit of 
 impatience at the length of Alethea's instructions. When 
 they were concluded, however, and there was a pause, her 
 words failed her, and she wished that she was miles from 
 the cottage, or that she had never mentioned her intentions. 
 At last she stammered out, " Oh ! Mrs. Eden — I wanted 
 to speak to you about — about Mr. Devereux and your 
 brother." 
 
 Mrs. Eden bent over her wash-tub. Miss Weston exam- 
 ined the shells on the chimney-piece, Marianne and Phyllis 
 listened with all their ears, and poor Lily was exceedingly 
 uncomfortable. 
 
 " I wished to tell you — I do not think — I do not mean 
 — It was not his saying. Indeed he did not say those 
 things about the Gages." 
 
 " I told my brother I did not think Mr. Devereux 
 would go for to say such a thing," said Mrs. Eden, as 
 much confused as Lily. 
 
 " Oh ! that was right, Mrs. Eden. The mischief was 
 all my making and Jane's. We said those foolish things. 
 
THE NEW FRIEND. 55 
 
 and they were repeated as if it was he. Oh ! do tell your 
 brother so, Mrs. Eden. It was very good of you to think 
 it was not cousin Robert. Pray tell Tom Naylor. I can- 
 not bear that things should go on in this dreadful way." 
 
 " Indeed, Miss, I am very sorry," said Mrs. Eden. 
 
 " But Mrs. Eden, I am sure that would set it right 
 again," said Lily, "are not you? I would do any thing to 
 have that poor baby christened." 
 
 Lily's confidence melted away as she saw that Mrs. 
 Eden's tears were falling fast, and she ended with, " Only 
 tell them, and we shall see what will happen." 
 
 " Very well, Miss Lilias," said Mrs. Eden. " I am very 
 sorry." 
 
 " Let us hope that time and patience will set things 
 right," said Miss Weston, to relieve the embarrassment of 
 both parties. "Your brother must soon see that Mr 
 Devereux only wishes to do his duty." 
 
 Alethea skilfully covered Lily's retreat, and the party 
 took leave of Mrs. Eden, and turned into their homeward 
 path. 
 
 Lily at first seemed disposed to be silent, and Miss 
 Weston therefore amused herself with listening to the chat- 
 ter of the little girls as they walked on before them. 
 
 " There are only thirty-six days to the holidays," said 
 Phyllis, " Ada and I keep a paper in the nursery with the 
 account of the number of days. We shall be so glad 
 when Claude, and Maurice, and Redgie come home. " 
 
 "Are not they very boisterous?" said Marianne. 
 
 " Not Maurice," said Phyllis. 
 
 " No, indeed," said Lily, " Maurice is like nobody else. 
 He takes up some scientific pursuit each time he comes 
 home, and cares for nothing else for some time, and then 
 quite forgets it. He is an odd-looking boy too, thick and 
 
56 EIGHTEEH MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 sturdy, with light flaxen hair, and dark overhanging eje- 
 brows, and he makes the most extraordinary grimaces." 
 
 "And Reginald?" said Alethea. 
 
 " Oh ! Eedgie is a noble-looking fellow. But just 
 eleven, and taller than Jane. His complexion so fair, yet 
 fresh and boyish, and his eyes that beautiful blue that 
 Ada's are — real blue. Then his hair, in dark brown waves, 
 with a rich auburn shine. The old Knights must have 
 been just like Redgie. And Claude — Oh ! Miss Weston, 
 have you ever seen Claude ? " 
 
 " No, but I have seen your eldest brother." 
 
 '' William ? Why he has been in Canada these three 
 years. Where could you have seen him ? " 
 
 " At Brighton, about four years ago." 
 
 " Ah ! the year before he went. I remember that his 
 regiment was there. Well, it is curious that you should 
 know him ; and did you ever hear of Harry, the brother 
 that we lost ? " 
 
 " I remember Captain Mohun's being called away to 
 Oxford by his illness," said Alethea. 
 
 " Ah, yes ! William was the only one of us who was 
 with him, even papa was not there. His illness was so 
 short." 
 
 " Yes," said Alethea, " I think it was on a Tuesday 
 that Captain Mohun left Brighton, and we saw his death 
 in the paper on Saturday." 
 
 " William only arrived the evening that he died. Papa 
 was gone to Ireland to see about cousin Rotherwood's pro- 
 perty. Robert not knowing that, wrote him at Beecheroft, 
 Eleanor forwarded the letter without opening it, and so we 
 knew nothing till Robert came to tell us that all was over." 
 
 " Without any preparation ? " 
 
 " With none. Harry had left home about ten days 
 
THE NEW FRIEKD. 57 
 
 before, quite well, and looking so handsome. You know 
 what a fine-looking person William is. Well, Harry was 
 very like him, only not so tall and strong, with the same 
 clear hazel eyes, and more pink in his cheeks — fairer alto- 
 gether. Then Harry wrote, saying that he had caught one 
 of his bad colds. We did not think much of it, for he was 
 always having coughs. We heard no more for a week, and 
 then one morning Eleanor was sent for out of the school- 
 room, and there was Robert come to tell us. Oh ! it was 
 such a thunderbolt. This was what did the mischief. 
 You know papa and mamma being from home so long, the 
 elder boys had no settled place for the holidays, sometimes 
 they staid with one friend, sometimes with another, and so 
 no one saw enough of them to find out how delicate poor 
 Harry really was. I think papa had been anxious the only 
 winter they were at home together, and Harry had been 
 talked to and advised to take care ; but in the summer and 
 autumn he was well, and did not think about it. He went 
 to Oxford by the coach — it was a bitterly cold frosty day — 
 there was a poor woman outside, shivering and looking very 
 ill, and Harry changed places with her. He was horribly 
 chilled, but thinking he had only a common cold, he took 
 no care. Robert, coming to Oxford about a week after, 
 found him very ill, and wrote to papa and William, but 
 William scarcely came in time. Harry just knew him, 
 and that was all. He could not speak, and died that night. 
 Then William staid at Oxford to receive papa, and Robert 
 came to teU us." 
 
 " It must have been a terrible shock." 
 
 " Such a loss — he was so very good and clever. Every 
 one looked up to him, — WiUiam almost as much as the 
 younger ones. He never was in any scrape — ^had all sorts 
 3* 
 
58' EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 of prizes at Eton, besides getting his scholarship before ha 
 was seventeen." 
 
 Whenever Lily could get Miss TTeston alone, it was 
 her way to talk in this manner. She loved/ the sound of 
 her own voice so well, that she was never better satisfied 
 than when engrossing the whole conversation. Having 
 nothing to talk of but her books, her poor people, and her 
 family, she gave her friend the full benefit of all she could 
 say on each subject, while Alethea had kindness enough to 
 listen with real interest to her long rambling discourses, well 
 pleased to see her happy. 
 
 The next time they met, Lilias told her all she knew or 
 imagined respecting Eleanor, and of her own debate with 
 Claude, and ended, " Now, Miss "Weston, tell me your opin- 
 ion, which would you choose for a sister, Eleanor or 
 Emily?" 
 
 " I have some experience of Miss Mohun's delightful 
 manners, and none of Mrs. Hawkesworth's, so I am no fair 
 judge," said Alethea. 
 
 " I really have done justice to Eleanor's sterling good- 
 ness," said Lily. " Now what should you think? " 
 
 " I can hardly imagine greater proofs of affection than 
 Mrs. Hawkesworth has given you," said Miss Weston, 
 smiling. 
 
 " It was because it was her duty," said Lilias. " You 
 have only heard the facts, but you cannot judge of her ways 
 and looks. Now only think, when Frank came home, after 
 seven years of perils by field and flood — there she rose up 
 to receive him as if he had been Mr. Nobody making a 
 morning call. And all the time before they were married, 
 I do believe she thought more of showing Emily how much 
 tea we were to use in a week than any thing else." 
 
THE NEW FK-IEND. 59 
 
 " Perhaps some people might have admired her self- 
 command," said Alethea. 
 
 " Self-command, the refuge of the insensible ? And 
 now, I told you ahout dear Harry the other day. He was 
 Eleanor's especial brother, yet his death never seemed to 
 make any difference to her. She scarcely cried : she heard 
 our lessons as usual, talked in her quiet voice — showed no 
 tokens of feeling." 
 
 " Was her health as good as before ? " asked Miss 
 Weston. 
 
 " She was not ill," said Lily ; " if she had, I should 
 have been satisfied. She certainly could not take long 
 walks that winter, but she never likes walking. People 
 said she looked ill, but I do not know." 
 
 " Shall I tell you what I gather from your history ? " 
 
 " Pray do." 
 
 " Then do not think me very perverse, if I say that per- 
 haps the grief she then repressed may have weighed down 
 her sprits ever since, so that you can hardly remember any 
 alteration." 
 
 " That I cannot," said Lily. " She is always the same, 
 but then she ought to have been more cheerful before hia 
 death." 
 
 " Did not you lose him soon after your mother ? " said 
 Alethea. 
 
 " Two whole years," said Lily. " Oh I and aunt Eobert 
 too, and Frank went to India the beginning of that year ; 
 yes, there was enough to depress her, but I never thought 
 of grief going on in that quiet dull way for so many 
 years." 
 
 " You would prefer one violent burst, and then forget- 
 fulness ? " 
 
60 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 "Not exactly," said Lily; "but I should like a little 
 evidence of it. If it is really strong, it cannot be bid." 
 
 Little did Lily tbink of tbe grief tbat sat beavy upon 
 the spirit of Aletbea, wbo answered — 
 
 " Some people can do any tbing tbat tbey consider 
 tbeir duty." 
 
 " Duty ! wbat are you a duty lover ? " exclaimed 
 Lilias, " I never suspected it, because you are not disagree- 
 able." 
 
 " Thank you," said Aletbea, laughing, " your compli- 
 ment rather surprises me, for I thought you told me your 
 brother Claude was on tbe duty side of tbe question." 
 
 " He thinks be is," said Lily, " but love is his real 
 motive of action, as I can prove to you. Poor Claude bad 
 a very bad illness when he was about three years old ; and 
 ever since, be has been liable to terrible headaches, and be 
 is not at all strong. Of course be cannot always study 
 bard, and when first be went to school, every one scolded 
 bim for being idle. I really believe be might have done 
 more, but then be was so clever, tbat be could keep up 
 without any trouble, and, as Robert says, tbat was a great 
 temptation; but still papa was not satisfied, because be 
 said Claude could do better. So said Harry. Oh ! you 
 cannot tbink wbat a, person Harry was, as high-spirited as 
 William, and as gentle as Claude ; and in bis kind way he 
 used to try hard to make Claude exert himself, but it 
 never would do — be was never in mischief, but be 
 never took pains. Then Harry died, and when Claude 
 came home, and saw how changed things were, bow grey 
 papa's hair bad turned, and how silent and melancholy 
 William bad grown, he set himself with all his might to 
 make up to papa as far as be could. He thought only of 
 doing wbat Harry would have wished, and papa himself 
 
THE NEW PBIEND. 61 
 
 Bays that lie has done wonders. I cannot see that Henry 
 himself could have been more than Claude is now ; he has 
 not spared himself in the least, his tutor says, and he 
 would have had the Newcastle Scholarship last year, if he 
 had not worked so hard that he brought on one of his bad 
 illnesses, and was obliged to come home. - Now, I am sure 
 that he has acted from love, for it was as much his duty to 
 take pains while Harry was alive, as afterwards." 
 
 " Certainly,'' said Miss Weston, " but what does he say 
 himself?" 
 
 " Oh ! he never wiU talk of himself," said Lily. 
 
 " Have you not overlooked one thing which may be the 
 truth," said Alethea, as if she was asking for information, 
 " that duty and love may be identical. Is not St. Paul's 
 description of charity very like the duty to our neighbour ? " 
 
 " The practice is the same, but not the theory,'' said 
 Lily. 
 
 " Now, what is called duty, seems to mo to be love 
 doing unpleasant work," said Miss Weston, " love disguised 
 under another name, when obliged to act in a way which 
 seems, only seems, out of accordance with its real title." 
 
 " That is all very well for those who have love," said 
 Lily. " Some have not who do their duty conscientiously 
 ■another word which I hate, by the bye." 
 
 " They have love in a rough coat, perhaps," said 
 Alethea, " and I should expect it soon to put on a smoother 
 one ' 
 
62 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HIU MAURICE. 
 
 "' Small thought was his, in after time, 
 Thus to be hitched into a rhyme ; 
 The simple sire could only boast 
 That he was loyal to his cost. 
 The banished race of kings revered, 
 And lost his land." 
 
 The holidays arrived, and with them the three brothers, 
 for during the first few weeks of the Oxford vacation, 
 Claude accompanied Lord Rotherwood on visits to some 
 college friends, and only came home the same day as the 
 younger ones. 
 
 Maurice did not long leave his sisters in doubt as to 
 what was to be his reigning taste, for, as soon as dinner was 
 over, he made Jane find the volume of the Enoyclopsedia 
 containing Entomology, and with his elbows on the table, 
 proceeded to study it so intently, that the young ladies 
 gave up all hopes of rousing him from it. Claude threw 
 himself down on the sofa to enjoy the luxury of a desul- 
 tory talk with his sisters ; and Reginald, his head on the 
 floor, and his heels on a chair, talked loud and fast enough 
 for all three, with very little regard to what the damsels 
 might be saying. 
 
 " Oh [ Claude," said Lily, " you cannot think how 
 much we like Miss Weston, she lets us call her Alethea, 
 and—" 
 
 Here came an interruption from Mr. Mohun, who per- 
 ceiving the position of Reginald's dusty shoes, gave a loud 
 
SIR MAURICE. 63 
 
 " Ah — L ! " as if he was scolding a dog, and ordered him 
 to change them directly. 
 
 " Here, Phyl ! " said Keginald, kicking off his shoos 
 "just step up and bring my slippers, Rachel will give them 
 to you." 
 
 Away went Phyllis, well pleased to be her brother's 
 fag. 
 
 " Ah 1 Redgie does not know the misfortune that hangs 
 over him," said Emily. 
 
 " What ? " said Reginald, " will not the Baron let Viper 
 come to the house ? " 
 
 " Worse," said Emily, " Rachel is going away." 
 
 " Rachel ? " cried Claude, starting up from the sofa. 
 
 " Rachel ? " said Maurice, without raising his eyes. 
 
 " Rachel ! Rachel ! botheration ! " roared Reginald, 
 with a wondrous caper. 
 
 " Yes, Rachel," said Emily, " Rachel, who makes so 
 much of you, for no reason that I could ever discover, but 
 because you are the most troublesome." 
 
 " You will never find any one to mend your jackets, and 
 dress your wounds like Rachel," said Lily, " and make a 
 baby of you instead of a great school-boy. What will 
 become of you, Redgie ? " 
 
 " What will become of any of us ? " said Claude ; " I 
 thought Rachel was the main-spring of the house." 
 
 " Have you quarrelled with her, Emily ? " said Re- 
 ginald. 
 
 " Nonsense," said Emily, " it is only that her brother 
 tas lost his wife, and wants her to take care of his chil- 
 dren." 
 
 " Well," said Reginald, " her master has lost his wife, 
 and wants her to take care of his children." 
 
 " I cannot think what I shall do," said Ada ; " I cry 
 
64 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEEOHCBOFT. 
 
 about it every night when I go to bed. What is to be 
 done ? " 
 
 " Send her brother a new wife," said Maurice. 
 
 " Send him Emily," said Reginald, " we could spare 
 her much better." 
 
 " Only I don't wish him joy," said Maurice. 
 
 " Well, I hope you wish me joy of my substitute," said 
 Emily, " I do not think you would ever guess, but Lily, 
 after being in what Rachel calls quite- a way, has persuaded 
 every one to let us have Esther Bateman." 
 
 " What, the Baron ? " said Claude in surprise. 
 
 " Yes," said Lily, " is it not delightful ? He said at 
 first, Emily was too inexperienced to teach a young ser- 
 vant ; but then we settled that Hannah should be upper 
 servant, and Esther will only have to wait upon Phil and 
 Ada. Then he said Eaith Longley was of a better set of 
 people, but I am sure it would give one the nightmare to 
 see her lumbering about the house, and then he talked it 
 over with Robert and with Rachel." 
 
 " And was not Rachel against it, or was she too kind 
 to her young ladies ? " 
 
 " Oh ! she was cross when she talked it over with us," 
 said Lily ; " but we coaxed her over, and she told the 
 Baron it would do very well." 
 
 " And Robert ? " 
 
 " He was quite with us, for he likes Esther as much as 
 I do," said Lily. 
 
 " Now, Lily," said Jane, " how can you say he was 
 quite with you, when he said he thought it would be better 
 if she was further from home, and under some older per- 
 son?" 
 
 " Yes, but he allowed that she would be much safer 
 here than at home," said Lily. 
 
SIR MAURICE. 65 
 
 " But I thought slic used to bo the head of all the ill 
 behaviour in school," said Claude. 
 
 " Oh ! that was in Eleanor's time," said Lily, " there 
 was nothing to draw her out, she never was encouraged ; 
 but since she has been in my class, and has found that her 
 wishes to do right axe appreciated and met by affection, she 
 has been quite a new creature." 
 
 " Since she has been in my class," Claude repeated. 
 
 " Well," said Lily, with a slight blush, " it is just what 
 Robert says. He told her when he gave her her prize Bible 
 on Palm Sunday, that she had been going on very well, but 
 she must take great care when removed from those whose 
 influence now guided her, and who could he have meant 
 but me ? And now she is to go on with me always. She 
 will be quite one of the old sort of faithful servants, who 
 feel that they owe every thing to their masters, and will it 
 not be pleasant to have so sweet and expressive a face 
 about the house ? " 
 
 " Do I know her face ? " said Claude. " Oh yes ! I do. 
 She has black eyes, I think, and would be pretty if she did 
 not look pert." 
 
 " You provoking Claude ! " cried Lily, '' you are as bad 
 as Alethea, whj never will say that Esther is the best per- 
 son for us." 
 
 " I was going to enquire for the all-for-love principle," 
 said Claude, " but I see it is in full force. And how are 
 the verses, Lily ? Have you made a poem upon Michael 
 Moone, or Mohun, the actor, our uncle, whom I discovered 
 for you in Pepys' Memoirs ? " 
 
 " Nonsense," said Lily, " but I have been writing some- 
 thing about Sir Maurice, which you shall hear whenever 
 you are not in this horrid temper." 
 
 The next afternoon, as soon as luncheon was over, Lily 
 
66 
 
 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 drew Claudo out to his favourite place under the plane 
 tree, where she proceeded to inflict her poem upon his 
 patient ears, while he lay flat upon the grass, looking up to 
 the sky; Emily and Jane had promised to join them there 
 in process of time, and the four younger ones were, as 
 usual, diverting themselves among the farm buildings at 
 the Old Com-t. 
 
 Lily began : " I meant to have two parts about Sir 
 Maurice going out to fight when he was very young, and 
 then about his brothers being killed, and King Charles 
 knighting him, and his betrothed, Phyllis Crossthwayte, 
 embroidering his black engrailed cross on his banner, and 
 then the taking the castle, and his being wounded, and 
 escaping, and Phyllis not thinking it right to lea,ve her 
 father ; but I have not finished that, so now you must hear 
 about his return home." 
 
 " A romaunt in six cantos, entitled Woe woe, 
 By Miss I'anny F. known more commonly so," 
 
 muttered Claude to himself; but as Lily did not under- 
 stand, or know whence his quotation came, it did not hurt 
 her feelings, and she went merrily on : — 
 
 'Tis tlie twenty-ninth of merry May ; 
 Full cheerily shine the sunbeams to-day, 
 
 Their joyous light revealing 
 FuU many a troop in garments gay, 
 With cheerful steps who take their way 
 
 By the green hill and shady lane, 
 While merry heUs are pealing ; 
 
 And soon in Beechcroft's holy fane 
 The Tillagers are kneeling. 
 Dreary and mournful seems the shrine 
 Where soimd their prayers and hymns divine ; 
 For every mystic ornament 
 By the rude spoiler's hand is rent ; 
 
SIR MAURICE. 67 
 
 Scarce is its ancient beauty traced 
 In wood-work broken and defaced, 
 Reft of each quaint device and rare, 
 Of foliage rich and mouldings fair ; 
 Yet bappy is each spirit there ; 
 
 The simple peasantry rejoice 
 To see the Altar decked with care, 
 
 To bear their ancient Pastor's voice 
 Reciting o'er each well known prayer. 
 To view again his robe of white, 
 And hear the services aright ; 
 Once more to chant their glorious Creed, 
 And, thankful, own their nation freed 
 From those who oast her glories down. 
 And rent away her Cross and Crown. 
 A stranger knelt among the crowd, 
 And joined his voice in praises loud. 
 And when the holy rites had ceased, 
 Held converse with the aged Priest, 
 Then turned to join the village feast, 
 Where, raised on the hill's summit green, 
 The Maypole's flowery wreaths were seen ; 
 Beneath the venerable yew 
 The stranger stood the sports to view. 
 Unmarked by all, for each was bent 
 On his own scheme of merriment. 
 On talking, laughing, dancing, playing, — 
 There never was so bhthe a Maying. 
 So thought each laughing maiden gay, 
 Ariose head-gear bore the oaken spray ; 
 So thought that band of shouting boys, 
 Unchecked in their best joy — ^iu noise ; 
 But gray-haired men, whose deep maiked scar* 
 Bore token of the civil wars, 
 And hooded dames in cloaks of red. 
 At the blithe youngsters shook the head, 
 Gathering in eager clusters told 
 How joyous were the days of old. 
 When Beechcroft's lords, those Barons bold. 
 
66 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 Game forth to join their vassals' sport, 
 And here to hold their rustic court, 
 Throned in the ancient chair you see 
 Beneath our noble old yew tree. 
 Alas ! all empty stands the throne, 
 Keserved for Mohun'a race alone. 
 And the old folks can only tell 
 Of the good lords who ruled so well. 
 " Ah ! I bethink me of the time, 
 The last before those years of crime. 
 When, with his open hearty cheer. 
 The good old squire was sitting here.'* 
 " 'Twas then," another voice replied, 
 *' That brave young Master Maurice tried 
 To pitch the ball with Andrew Grey — 
 We ne'er shall see so blithe a day — 
 
 All the young squires have long been dead * 
 " No, Master Webb," quoth Andrew Grey, 
 
 " Young Master Maurice safely fled. 
 At least, so all the Greenwoods say. 
 And Walter Greenwood with him went 
 To share his master^s banishment ; 
 And now King Charles is ruling here, 
 Our own good landlord may be near." 
 "Small hope of that," the old man said. 
 And sadly shook his hoary head, 
 " Sir Maurice died beyond the sea. 
 Last of his noble line was he.'' 
 "Look, Master Webb!" he turned, and then 
 The stranger sat in Mohun's chair ; 
 At ease he sat, and smiled to scan 
 The face of each astonished man ; 
 Then on the ground he laid aside 
 His plumed hat and mantle wide. 
 One moment, Andrew deemed he knew 
 Those glancing eyes of hazel hue, 
 But the sunk cheek, the figure spare. 
 The lines of white that streak the hair^ 
 
SIR MAURICE. C9 
 
 How can this be the stripling gay, 
 Erst, victor in the sports of May ? 
 Full twenty years of cheerful toil, 
 And lahour on his native soil, 
 On Andrew's head had left no trace — 
 
 The summer's sun, the winter's storm, 
 They had but ruddier made his face. 
 
 More hard his hand, more strong his form. 
 Forth from the wandering, whispering crowd 
 A farmer came, and spoke aloud. 
 With rustic bow and' welcome fair, 
 But with a hesitating air — 
 He told how custom well preserved 
 The throne for Mohun's race reserved ; 
 The stranger laughed, " What, Harrington, 
 Hast thou forgot thy landlord's son ? " 
 Loud was the cry, and blithe the shout. 
 On Beechcroft hill that now rang out. 
 And still remembered is the day. 
 That merry twenty-ninth of May, 
 When to his father's home returned 
 That knight, whose glory well was earned. 
 la poverty and banishment, 
 His prime of manhood had been spent, 
 A wanderer, scorned by Charles's court, 
 One faithful servant his support. 
 And now, he seeks bis home forlorn. 
 Broken in health, with sorrow worn. 
 And two short years just passed away. 
 Between that joyous meeting day. 
 And the sad 3ve when Beechcroft's bell 
 Tolled forth Sir Maurice's funeral knell ; 
 And Phyllis, whose love was so constant and tried, 
 Was a widow the year she was Maxurice's bride ; 
 Yet the path of the noble and true-hearted knight, 
 Was brilliant with honor, and glory, and light. 
 And still his descendants shall sing of the fame 
 Of Sir Maurice de Mohun, the pride of his name. 
 
70 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHOROFT. 
 
 " It is a pity they stould sing of it in such lines as 
 those last four," said Claude. " Let me see, I like your 
 bringing in the real names, though I doubt whether any 
 but Greenwood could have been found here." 
 
 " Oh! here come Emily and Jane," said Lily, "let me 
 put it away." 
 
 " You are very much afraid of Jane," said Claude. 
 
 " Yes, Jane has no feeling for poetry," said Lily, with 
 simplicity, which made her brother smile. Jane and Emily 
 now came up, the former with her work, the latter with a 
 camp stool and a book. "I wonder," said she, "where 
 those boys are I By the bye, what character did they 
 bring home from school ? " 
 
 " The same as usual," said Claude. " Maurice's mind 
 only half given to his work, and Redgie's whole mind to his 
 play." 
 
 " Maurice's talent does not lie in the direction of Latin 
 and Greek,'' said Emily. 
 
 " No," said Jane, " it is nonsense to make him learn it, 
 and so he says." 
 
 " Perhaps he would say the same of mathematics and 
 mechanics, if as great a point were made of them," said 
 Lily. 
 
 " I think not," said Claude, "he has more notion of 
 them than of Latin verses." 
 
 " Then you are on my side," said Jane, triumphantly. 
 
 "Did I say so?" said Claude. 
 
 "Why not?" said Jane. "What is the use of his 
 knowing those stupid languages ? I am sure it is wasting 
 time not to improve such a genius as he has for mechanicnf 
 and natural history. Now, Claude, I wish you would 
 answer." 
 
 "I was waiting till you had done," said Claude. 
 
SIR MAURICE. 71 
 
 " Why do you not think it nonsense ? " persisted Jane. 
 
 "Because I respect my father's opinion," said Claude, 
 letting himself fall on the grass, as if he had done with 
 the subject. 
 
 " Pooh 1 " said Jane, " that sounds like a good little boy 
 of five years old ! " 
 
 " Very likely," said Claude. 
 
 " But you have some opinion of your own," said Lily. 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Then I wish you would give it," said Jane. 
 
 " Come, Emily," said Claude, " have you iDrought any 
 thing to read?" 
 
 " But your opinion, Claude," said Jane. "I am sure 
 you think with me, only you are too grand, and too correct 
 to say so." 
 
 Claude made no answer, but Jane saw she was wrong 
 by his countenance ; before she could say any thing more, 
 however, they were interrupted by a great outcry from the 
 Old Court regions. 
 
 " Oh," said Emily, " I thought it was a long time since 
 we had heard any thing of those uproarious mortals." 
 
 " I hope there is nothing the matter," said Lily. 
 
 " Oh no," said Jane, " I hear Eedgie's laugh." 
 
 " Aye, but among that party," said EmUy, "Kedgie's 
 laugh is not always a proof of peace ; they are too much 
 in the habit of acting the boys and the frogs." 
 
 "We were better off," said Lily, "with the gentle 
 Claude, as Miss Middleton used to call him." 
 
 " Miss Molly, as WUliam used to call him with more 
 propriety," said Claude, " not half so well worth playing 
 with as such a fellow as Kedgie." 
 
 " Not even for young ladies ? " said Emily. 
 
 " No, Phyllis and Ada are much the better for being 
 
72 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 teazed," said Claude, "I am convinced that I never did my 
 duty by you in that respect." 
 
 " There were others to do it for you," said Jane. 
 
 "Harry never teazed," said Emily, "and William 
 Bcorned us." 
 
 " His teazing was all performed upon Claude," said Lily, 
 " and a great shame it was." 
 
 " Not at all," said Claude, " only an injudicious attempt 
 to put a little life into a tortoise." 
 
 "A bad comparison," said Lily, "but what is all this? 
 Here come the children in dismay — What is the matter, 
 my dear child ? " 
 
 This was addressed to Phyllis, who was the first to 
 come up, at full speed, sobbing and out of breath, "Oh! 
 the dragon-fly ! Oh ! do not let him kill it ! " 
 
 "The dragon-fly, the poor dear blue dragon-fly," 
 screamed Adeline, hiding her face in Emily's lap. " Oh ! 
 do not let him kill it, he is holding it, he is hurting it. 
 "Oh! tell him not." 
 
 "I caught it," said Phyllis, "but not to have it killed. 
 Oh ! take it away ! " 
 
 " A fine rout, indeed, you chicken," said Keginald, " I 
 know a fellow who ate up five horse-stingers one morning 
 before breakfast." 
 
 " Stingers ! " said Phyllis, " they do not sting any thing, 
 pretty creatures." 
 
 " I told you I would catch the old pony and put it on 
 him to try," said Keginald. 
 
 In the mean time, Maurice came up at his leisure, hold- 
 ing his prize by the wings. " Look what a beautiful Libel- 
 lulla Puella," said he to Jane. 
 
 "A demoiselle dragon-fliy," said Lily, "what a beauty, 
 what are you going to do with it?" 
 
Sia MAURICE. 73 
 
 "Put it into my museum," said Maurioe. "Here, 
 Jane, put it under this flower-pot, and take care of it, while 
 I fetch something to kill it with." 
 
 " Oh, Maurice ! do not," said Emily. 
 
 " One good squeeze," said Reginald, "I will do it." 
 
 " How can you he so cruel ? " said Lily. 
 
 " No, a squeeze will not do," said Maurice, " it would 
 spoil its beauty, I must put it over the fumes of carbonic 
 acid." 
 
 " Maurice, you really must not," said Emily. 
 
 " Now do not, dear Maurice," said Ada, " there's a dear 
 boy, I will give you such a kiss." 
 
 " Nonsense, get out of the way," said Maurice, turning 
 away. 
 
 " Now, Maurice, this is most horrid cruelty," said Lily, 
 "what right have you to shorten the brief happy life 
 which — " 
 
 " Well," interrupted Maurice, " if you make such a fuss 
 about killing it, I will stick a pin through it into a cork, 
 and let it shift for itself." 
 
 Poor Phyllis ran away to the other end of the garden, 
 sat down and sobbed, Ada screamed and argued, Emily 
 complained, Lily exhorted Claude to interfere, while Regi- 
 nald stood laughing. 
 
 " Such useless cruelty," said Emily. 
 
 " Useless ! " said Maurice. " Pray how is any one to 
 make a collection of natural objects without killing things ? " 
 
 " I do not see the use of a collection," said Lily, " you 
 can examine the creatures and let them go." 
 
 " Such a young lady's tender-hearted notion," said 
 Reginald. 
 
 "Who ever heard of a man of science managing in 
 Bueh a ridiculous way?" said Maurice. 
 4 
 
74 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 " Man of science ! " exclaimed Lily, " whente will have 
 forgotten by next Christmas that insects ever existed." 
 
 It was not convenient to hear this speech, so Maurice 
 turned an empty flower-pot over his prisoner, and left it in 
 Jane's care while he went to fetch the means of destruc- 
 tion, probably choosing the lawn for the place of execution, 
 in order to show his contempt for his sisters. 
 
 " Fair damsel in boddice blue,'' said Lily, peeping in 
 at the hole at the top of the flower-pot, " I wish I could 
 avert your melancholy fate, I am very sorry for you, but I 
 cannot help it." 
 
 " You might help it now at any rate,'' muttered Claude. 
 
 "No," said Lily, "I know Monsieur Maurice too well 
 to arouse his wrath so justly. If you choose to release the 
 pretty creature, I shall be charmed." 
 
 " You forget that I am in charge," said Jane. 
 
 " There is a carriage coming to the front gate," cried 
 Ada. " Emily, may I go into the drawing-room ? Oh ! 
 Jenny, will you undo my brown hoUand apron ? " 
 
 " That is right, little mincing Miss," said Reginald, 
 with a low bow, " how fine we are to-day." 
 
 "How visitors break into the afternoon," said Emily, 
 with a languid turn of her head. 
 
 " Jenny, brownie," called Maurice from his bed-room 
 window, " I want the sulphuric acid." 
 
 Jane sprang up and ran into the house, though her sis- 
 ters called after her, that she would come full upon the 
 company in the hall. 
 
 " They shall not catch me here," cried Reginald, rush- 
 ing off into the shrubbery. 
 
 " Are you coming in, Claude ? " said Emily. 
 
 " Send Ada to call me, if there is any one worth see- 
 ing," said Claude. 
 
SIR MAURICE. 75 
 
 ♦ " They will see you from the window," said Emily. 
 
 " No," said Claude, " no one ever found me out last 
 summer, under these friendly branches." 
 
 The old butler, Joseph, now showed himself on the ter- 
 race ; and the young ladies, knowing that he had no inten- 
 tion of crossing the lawn, hastened to learn from him who 
 their visitors were, and entered the house. Just then, 
 Phyllis came running back from the kitchen garden, and 
 without looking round, or perceiving Claude, she took up 
 the flower-pot and released the captive, which, unconscious 
 of its peril, rested on a blade of grass, vibrating its gauzy 
 wings, and rejoicing in the restored sun-beams. 
 
 " Fly away, fly away, you pretty creature," said 
 Phyllis ; " make haste or Maurice will come and catch you 
 again. I wish I had not given you such a fright. I 
 thought you would have been killed, and a pin stuck all 
 through that pretty blue and black body of yours. Oli ! 
 that would be dreadful. Make haste and go away ! I would 
 not have caught you, you beautiful thing, if I had known 
 what he wanted to do. I thought he only wanted to look 
 at your beautiful body, like a little bit of the sky come 
 down to look at the flowers, and your delicate wings, and 
 great shining eyes. Oh ! I am very glad God made you so 
 beautiful. Oh ! there is Maurice coming. I must blow 
 upon you to make you go. Oh, that is right — up quite 
 high in the air — quite safe," and she clapped her hands as 
 the dragon-fly rose in the air, and disappeared behind the 
 laurels, just as Maurice and Reginald emerged from the 
 shrubbery, the former with a bottle in his hand. 
 
 "Well, where is the Libellulla?" said he. 
 
 " The dragon-fly," said Phyllis. " I let it out." 
 
 "Sold, Maurice J" cried Reginald, laughing at his 
 brother's disaster. 
 
76 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT EEECHCKOFT. 
 
 " Upon my word, Phyl, you are very kind ! " said Mau- 
 rice angrily. "If I had known you were sucli an ill- 
 natured crab — " 
 
 " Oh ! Maurice, dear, don't say so," exclaimed Phyllis. 
 " I thought I might let it out because I caught it myself; 
 and I told you I did not catch it for you to kill ; Maurice, 
 indeed, I am sorry I vexed you." 
 
 " What else did you do it for ! " said Maurice. "It is 
 horrid not to be able to leave one's things a minute — " 
 
 " But I did not know the dragon-fly belonged to you, 
 Maurice," said Phyllis. 
 
 '" That is a puzzler, Mohun senior," said Keginald. 
 
 " Now, Eedgie, do get Maurice to leave off being angry 
 with me," implored his sister. 
 
 " I will leave off being angry," said Maurice, seeing 
 his advantage, " if you will promise never to let out my 
 things again." 
 
 " I do not think I can promise," said Phyllis. 
 
 " yes, you can," said Reginald, " you know they are 
 not his." 
 
 "Promise you will not let out any insects I may get,'' 
 said Maurice, " or I shall say you are as cross as two 
 sticks." 
 
 " I'll tell you what, Maurice," said Phyllis, " I do wish 
 you would not make me promise, for I do not think I can 
 keep it, for I cannot bear to see the beautiful live things 
 killed." 
 
 " Nonsense," said Maurice, fiercely, " I am very angry, 
 indeed, you naughty child ; promise — " 
 
 " I cannot," said Phyllis, beginning to cry. 
 
 " Then," said Maurice, " I will not speak to you aU 
 diy." 
 
 " No, no," shouted Reginald, " we will only treat her 
 
SIR MAURICE. 77 
 
 like the Lorse-stinger ; you wanted a puella, Maurice — ^Lcre 
 is one for you, here, give her a dose of the turpentine." 
 
 "Yes," said Maurice, advancing with his bottle, "and 
 do you take the poker down to Naylor's to be sharpened, 
 it will just do to stick through her back. Oh ! no, not 
 Naylor's — the girls have made a hash there, as they do of 
 every thing else; but we will settle her before they come 
 out again." 
 
 Phyllis screamed and begged for mercy — ^her last ally 
 had deserted her. 
 
 " Promise ! " cried the boys. 
 
 " Oh, don't," was all her answer. 
 
 Reginald caught her and held her fast, Maurice 
 advanced upon her, she struggled, and gave a scream of real 
 terror. The matter was no joke to any one but Reginald, 
 for Maurice was very angry and really meant to frighten her. 
 
 " Hands off, boys, I will not have her bullied," said 
 Claude, half rising. 
 
 Maurice gave a violent start, Reginald looked round, 
 laughing, and exclaimed, "Who would liave thought of 
 Claude sneaking there ? " and Phyllis ran to the protecting 
 arm, which he stretched out. To her great surprise, ho 
 drew her to him, and kissed her forehead, saying, " Well 
 done, Phyl!" 
 
 " Oh, I knew he was not going to hurt me," said 
 Phyllis, still panting from the struggle. 
 
 " To be sure not," said Maurice, " I only meant to have 
 a little fun." 
 
 Claude, with his arm stiU round his sister's waist, 
 gave Maurice a look, expressing, "Is that the truth?" 
 and Reginald tumbled head over heels, exclaiming, "I 
 would not have been Phyl just then." 
 
 Ada now came running up to them, saying : " Maurice 
 
78 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 and Redgie, you are to come in ; Mr. and Mrs. Burnet 
 heard your voices, and begged to see you, because they 
 never saw you last holidays." 
 
 "More's the pity they should see us now," said 
 Maurice. 
 
 " I shall not go," said Reginald. 
 
 " Papa is there, and he sent for you," said Ada. 
 
 " Plague," was the answer. 
 
 " See what you get by making such a row," said Claude. 
 " If you had been as orderly members of society as T 
 am—" 
 
 " Oh, but Claude," said Ada, " Papa told me to see if 
 I could find you. Dear Claude, I wish," she proceeded, 
 taking his hand, and looking engaging, " I wish you would 
 put your arm round me as you do round Phyl." 
 
 "You are not worth it, Ada," said Reginald, and 
 Claude did not contradict him. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE BROTHERS. 
 
 " But smiled to hear tbo creatures be had known 
 So long, were now in class and order shown — 
 G enus and species. ' Is it meet,' said he, 
 This creatnre's name should one so sounding be — 
 'Tls hut a fly, though first-born of the spring, 
 Borabylius Majus, dost thou call the thing ? ' " 
 
 It was not till Sunday, that Lily's eager wish was fulfilled, 
 of introducing her friend and her brothers; but, as she 
 might have foreseen, their first meeting did not make the 
 perfections of either party very clear to the other. Claude 
 
THE BROTHERS. 79 
 
 never spoke to strangers more than be could help, Maurice 
 and Reginald were in tlie room only a short time ; so that 
 the result of Miss Weston's observations, when com- 
 municated in reply to LUy's eager inquiries, was only that 
 Claude was very like his father and eldest brother ; Regi- 
 nald, very handsome; and Maurice looked like a very 
 funny fellow. 
 
 On Monday, Reginald and Maurice were required to 
 learn, what they had always refused to acknowledge, that 
 the holidays were not intended to be spent in idleness. A 
 portion of each morning was to be devoted to study, Claude 
 having undertaken the task of tutor — and hard work he 
 found it; and much did Lily pity him, when, as not un- 
 frequently happened, the summons to the children's dinner 
 would bring him from the study, looking thoroughly fagged 
 — Maurice in so sulky a mood that he would hardly 
 deign to open his lips — Reginald talking fast enough, in- 
 deed, but only to murmur at his duties in terms, which, 
 though they made every one laugh, were painful to hear. 
 Then Claude would take his brothers back to the study, 
 and not appear for an hour or more, and when he did come 
 forth, it was with a bad headache. Sometimes, as if to 
 show that it was only through their own fault that their 
 tasks were wearisome, one or both boys would finish quite 
 early, when Reginald would betake himself to the school- 
 room and employ his idle time in making it nearly impossi- 
 ble for Ada and Phyllis to learn, by talking, laughing, 
 teazing the canary, overturning every thing in pursuing 
 wasps, making Emily fretful by his disobedience, and then 
 laughing at her, and, in short, proving his right to the title 
 he had given himself at the end of the only letter he had 
 written since he first went to school, and which he had 
 subscribed, "Your affectionate brother, R. Mohun." So 
 
80 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BBECHCROFT. 
 
 that, for their own sake, all would Lave preferred the in 
 attentive mornings. 
 
 Lily often tried to persuade Claude to allow her to tell 
 her father how troublesome the boys were, but never with 
 any effect. He once took up a book he had been using 
 with them, and pointing to the name on the first page, in 
 writing, which Lily knew full well, " Henry Mohun," she 
 perceived that he meant to convince her, that it was useless 
 to try to dissuade him, as he thought the patience and for- 
 bearance his brother had shown to him, must be repaid by 
 his not shrinking from the task he had imposed upon him- 
 self with his young brothers, though he was often obliged 
 to sit up part of the night to pursue his own studies. 
 
 If Claude had rather injudiciously talked too much to 
 Lilias of " her principle," and thus kept it alive in her 
 mind, yet his example might have made its fallacy evident. 
 She believed that what she called love, had been the turn- 
 ing point in his character, that it had been his earnest de- 
 sire to follow in Henry's steps, and so try to comfort his 
 father for his loss, that had roused him from his indolence ; 
 but she was beginning to see that nothing but a sense of 
 duty, could have kept up the power of that first impulse 
 for six years. Lily began to enter a little into his princi- 
 ple, and many things that occurred during these holidays, 
 made her mistrust her former judgment. She saw that 
 without the unvarying principle of right and wrong, fra- 
 ternal love itself would fail in outward acts and words. 
 Forbearance, though undeniably a branch of love, could 
 not exist without constant remembrance of duty; and 
 which of them did not sometimes fail in k.ndness, meek- 
 ness, and patience ? Did Emily show that softness, which 
 was her most agreeable characteristic, in her whining re- 
 proofs — in her complaints that " no one listened to a word 
 
THE BROTHERS. 81 
 
 she said," — in her refusal to do justice even to those who 
 had vainly been seeking for peace ? Did Lily herself show 
 any of her much valued love, by the sharp manner in 
 which she scolded the boys for roughness towards herself? 
 or for language often used by them on purpose to make her 
 displeasure a matter of amusement? She saw that her 
 want of command of temper was a failure both in love 
 and duty, and when irritated, the thought of duty camo 
 sooner to her aid than the feeling of love. 
 
 And Maurice and Reginald were really very provoking. 
 Maurice loved no amusement better than teazing his sis- 
 tors, and this was almost the only thing in which Keginald 
 agreed with him. Keginald was affectionate, but too reck- 
 less and violent not to be very troublesome, and he too 
 often flew into a passion if Maurice attempted to laugh at 
 him ; the little girls were often frightened, and made va- 
 happy; Phyllis would scream and roar, and Ada would 
 come sobbing to Emily, to be comforted after some rude- 
 ness of Reginald's. It was not very often that quarrels 
 went so far, but many a time in thought, word, and deed, 
 was the rule of love transgressed, and more than once did 
 Emily feel ready to give up all her dignity, to have 
 Eleanor's hand over the boys once more. Claude, finding 
 that he could do much to prevent mischief, took care not 
 to leave the two boys long together with the elder girls. 
 They were far more inoffensive when separate, as Maurice 
 never practised his tormenting tricks when no one was pre- 
 sent to laugh with him, and Reginald was very kind to 
 Phyllis and Ada, although somewhat rude. 
 
 It was a day or two after they returned, that Phyllis 
 
 was leaning on the window-sill in the drawing-room, 
 
 watching a passing shower, and admiring the soft bright 
 
 tints of a rainbow upon the dark grey mass of cloud, 
 
 4* 
 
82 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 " I do set my bow in the cloud," repeated she to herself 
 over and over again, until Adeline entering the room, she 
 eagerly exclaimed : " Ada, come and look at this beau- 
 tiful rainbow, green, and pink, and purple. A double one, 
 with so many stripes, Ada. See, there is a little bit more 
 green." 
 
 " There is no green in a rainbow," said Ada. 
 
 " But look, Ada, that is green." 
 
 " It is not real green. Blue, red, and yellow are the 
 pragmatic colours," said Ada, with a most triumphant air. 
 " Now are not they, Maurice," said she, turning to her 
 brother, who was, as usual, deep in entomology. 
 
 " Pragmatic, you foolish child," said he, " Prismatic 
 you mean. I am glad you remember what I tell you, 
 however ; I think I might teach you some science in time. 
 You are right in saying that blue, red, and yellow are the 
 prismatic colours. Now, do you know what causes a rain- 
 bow ? " 
 
 " It is to show there is never to be another flood," said 
 Phyllis, gravely. 
 
 " Oh, I did not mean that," said Maurice, addressing 
 himself to Ada, whose love of hard words made him deem 
 her a promising pupil, and whom he could lecture without 
 interruption. " The rainbow is caused by — " 
 
 " But, Maurice ! " exclaimed Phyllis, remaining with 
 mouth wide open. 
 
 " The rainbow is occasioned by the refraction of the 
 rays of the sun in the drops of water of which a cloud is 
 composed." 
 
 " But, Maurice ! " again said Phyllis. 
 
 " Well, what do you keep on ' but Mauricing' about ? " 
 
 " But, Maurice, I thought it said ' I do set my bow in 
 the cloud.' Is not that right ? I will look." 
 
THE BKOTHERS. 83 
 
 " I know that, but I know the iris, or rainbow, is a 
 natural phenomenon, occasioned by the refraction." 
 
 " But, Maurice, I can't bear you to say that ; " and 
 poor Phyllis sat down and began to cry. 
 
 Ada interfered. " Why, Maurice, you believe the 
 Bible, don't you ? " 
 
 This last speech was heard by Lilias, who just now 
 entered the room, and greatly surprised her. " What can 
 you be talking of? " said she. 
 
 " Only some nonsense of the children's," said Maurice 
 shortly. 
 
 " But only hear what he says," cried Ada. " He says 
 the rainbow was not put there to show there is never to be 
 another flood ! " 
 
 " Now, Lily," said Maurice, " I do not think there is 
 much use in talking to you, but I wish you to understand 
 that all I said was, that the rainbow, or ii-is, is a natural 
 phenomenon occasioned by the refraction of the solar — " 
 
 " You wiU certainly bewilder yourself into something 
 dreadful with that horrid science," said Lily. " What is 
 the matter with Phyl ? " 
 
 " Only crying because of what I said," answered 
 Maurice. " So childish, and you are just as bad." 
 
 " But do you mean to say," exclaimed Lily, " that you 
 set this human theory above the authority of the Bible ? " 
 
 "It is common sense," said Maurice; "I could make 
 a rainbow any day." Whereupon Phyllis cried the more, 
 and Lily looked infinitely shocked. " This is philosophy 
 and vain deceit,'' said she ; " the very thing that tends to 
 infidelity." 
 
 " I can't help it — it is universally allowed," said the 
 ooy, doggedly. 
 
 It was fortunate that the next person who entered tho 
 
84 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 room was Claude, and all at once he was appealed to bj 
 the four disputants, Lily the loudest and most vehement. 
 '' Claude, listen to him, and tell him to throw away these 
 hateful new lights, which lead to every thing that is 
 shocking ! " 
 
 " Listen to him, with three ladies talking at once ? " 
 said Claude. " No, not Phyl — ^her tears only are eloquent ; 
 but it is a mighty war about the token of peace and love, 
 Lily." 
 
 " The love would be in driving these horrible philoso- 
 phical speculations out of Maurice's mind," said Lily. 
 
 " No one can ever drive out the truth," said Maurice, 
 with provoking coolness. " Don't let her scratch out my 
 eyes, Claude." 
 
 " I am not so sure of that maxim,'' said Claude. 
 " Truth is chiefly injured — I mean, her force weakened, by 
 her own supporters." 
 
 " Then you agree with me," said Maurice, '' as, in fact 
 every .rational person must." 
 
 " Then you are with me," said Lily, in the same breath ; 
 " and you will convince Maurice of the danger of this 
 nonsense." 
 
 "Umph," sighed Claude, throwing himself into his 
 father's arm-chair, " 'tis a Herculean labor ! It seems I 
 agree with you both." 
 
 " Why, every Christian must be with me, who has not 
 lost his way in a mist of his own raising," said Lilias. 
 
 " Do you mean to Bay," said Maurice, " that these 
 colours are not produced by refraction ? Look at them on 
 those prisms ; " and he pointed to an old-fashioned lustre 
 on the chimney-piece. " I hope that is not a part of the 
 Christian faith." 
 
 " Take care, Maurice ; " and Claude's eyes were bent 
 
THE BROTHERS. 85 
 
 upon him in a manner that made him shrink. And h? 
 added, " Of course I do believe that chapter about Noah ; 
 I only meant that the immediate cause of the rainbow is 
 the refraction of light. I did not mean to be irreverent, 
 only the girls took me up in such a way." 
 
 " And I know well enough that you can make those 
 colours by light on drops of water," said Lily. 
 
 " So you agreed all the time," said Claude. 
 
 " But," added Lily, " I never liked to know it ; for it 
 always seemed to be explaining away the Bible, and I can- 
 not bear not to regard that lovely bow as a constant mi- 
 racle." 
 
 " You will remember," said Claude, " that some com- 
 mentators say it should be, ' I have set my bow in the 
 cloud,' which would make what already existed, become a 
 token for the future." 
 
 " I don't like that explanation," said Lily. 
 
 " Others say," added Claude, " that there might have 
 been no rain at all till the windows of heaven were opened 
 at the flood, and, in that case, the first recurrence of rain 
 must have greatly alarmed Noah's family, if they had not 
 been supported and cheered by the sight of the rainbow." 
 
 " That is reasonable," said Maurice. 
 
 " I hate reason applied to revelation," said Lily. 
 
 " It is a happier state of mind which does not seek to 
 apply it," said Claude, looking at Phyllis, who had dried 
 her tears, and stood in the window, gazing at him in the 
 happy certainty that he was setting all right. Maurice 
 respected Claude for his science as much as his character, 
 and did not make game of this observation as he would if 
 it had been made by one of his sisters, but he looked at 
 him with an odd expression of perplexity. " You do not 
 
86 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 think ignorant credulity better than reasonable belief," said 
 he at length. 
 
 " It is not I only who think most highly of child-like 
 unquestioning faith, Maurice," said Claude — " faith that is 
 based upon love and reverence," added he to Lily. " But 
 come, the shower is over, and philosophers or no philoso 
 phers, I invite you to walk in the wood." 
 
 " Aye," said Maurice, " I dare say I can find some of 
 the Arachne species there. By the by, Claude, do you 
 think papa would let ine have a piece of plate-glass, 
 eighteen by twenty, to cover my case of insects? " 
 
 " Ask, and you will discover," said Claude. 
 
 Accordingly, Maurice began the next morning at 
 breakfast : " Papa, may I have a piece of plate-glass, 
 eighteen by — " 
 
 But no one heard, for Emily was at the moment say- 
 ing, " The Westons are to dine here to-day." 
 
 Claude and Maurice both looked blank. 
 
 "I persuaded papa to ask the Westons," said Lily, 
 " because I am determined that Claude shall like Alethea." 
 
 " You must expect that I shall not, you have given me 
 BO many orders on the subject," said Claude. 
 
 " Take care it has not the same effect as to tell Maurice 
 to like a book," said Emily, "nothing makes his aversion 
 so certain." 
 
 " Except when he takes it up by mistake, and forgets 
 that it has been recommended to him," said Claude. 
 " Take care, Redgie, with your knife, don't put out my 
 eyes in your ardor against that wretched wasp. Wat 
 Greenwood may well say ' there is a terrible sight of 
 wapses this year.' " 
 
 " I killed twenty-nine yesterday," said Reginald. 
 
 " And I will tell you what I saw," said Phyllis ; " I 
 
THE BROTHERS. 87 
 
 was picking up apples, and the wasps were flying all round, 
 and there came a hornet." 
 
 " Vespa Crabro ! " cried Maurice ; " Oh ! I must 
 have one ! " 
 
 "Well, what of the hornet?" said Mr. Mohun. 
 
 " I'll tell you what," resumed Phyllis, " he saw a wasp 
 flying, and so he went up in the air, and pounced on the 
 poor wasp as the hawk did on Jane's bantam. So then he 
 hung himself up to the branch of a tree by one of his legs, 
 and held the wasp with the other five, and began to pack it 
 up. First he bit off the yellow tail, then the legs, and 
 threw them away, and then there was nothing left but the 
 head, and so he flew away with it to his nest." 
 
 " Which way did he go ? " said Maurice. 
 
 " To the Old Court," answered Phyllis; " I think the 
 nest is in the roof of the old cow-house, for they were 
 flying in and out there yesterday, and one was eating out 
 the wood from the old rails." 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Mohun, " you must show me a hornet 
 hawking for wasps before the nest is taken, Phyllis; I 
 suppose you have seen the wasps catching flies ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes. Papa, but they pack them up quite differ- 
 ently. They do not hang by one leg, but they sit down 
 quite comfortably on a branch while they bite off the 
 wings and legs." 
 
 " There, Maurice," said Mr. Mohun, " I had rather 
 hear of one such well-observed fact than a dozen of your 
 hard names and impaled insects." 
 
 Phyllis looked quite radiant with delight at his appro- 
 bation. 
 
 " But, Papa," said Maurice, " may I have a piece of 
 plate-glass, eighteen by twenty ? " 
 
 " When you observe facts in natural history, perhaps I 
 
88 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 may say something to your entomology," said Mr. Mo 
 tun. 
 
 " But, Papa, all my insects will be spoilt if I may not 
 have a piece of glass, eighteen by — " 
 
 He was interrupted by the arrival of the post-bag, 
 which Jane, as usual, opened. " A letter from Eother- 
 wood," said she, " I hope he is coming at last." 
 
 " He is," said Claude, reading the letter, " but only 
 from Saturday till Wednesday." 
 
 " He never gave us so little of his good company as 
 he has this summer," said Emily. 
 
 " You will have them all in the autumn, to comfort 
 you," said Claude, " for he hereby announces the marvel- 
 lous fact, that the Marchioness sends him to see if the 
 Castle is fit to receive her." 
 
 " Are you sure he is not only believing what he 
 wishes?" said Mr. Mohun. 
 
 " I think he will gain his point at last," said Claude. 
 
 " How stupid of him to stay no longer ! " said Reginald. 
 
 " I think he has some scheme for this vacation," said 
 Claude, " and I suppose he means to crowd all the Beech- 
 croft diversions of a whole summer into those few days." 
 
 " Emily," said Mr. Mohun, " I wish him- to know the 
 Carrlngtons; invite them and the Westons to dinner on 
 Tuesday." 
 
 " ! don't ! " cried Reginald. " It will be so jolly to 
 have him to take wasps' nests ; and may I go out rabbit- 
 shooting with him ? " 
 
 " If he goes." 
 
 " And may I carry a gun ? " 
 
 " If it is not loaded," said his father. 
 
 " Indeed I would do no mischief," said Reginald. 
 
 ' Let me give you one piece of advice, Reginald." 
 
TUB BROTHERS. 89 
 
 Baid Mr. Mohuu, with a mysterious air, — " never make 
 rash promises." 
 
 Lilias was rather disappointed in her hopes that Miss 
 Weston and Claude would become better acquainted. At 
 dinner, the conversation was almost entirely between the 
 elder gentlemen; Claude scarcely spoke, except when 
 referred to by his father or Mr. Devereux. Miss Weston 
 never liked to incur the danger of having to repeat her 
 insignificant speeches to a deaf ear, and being interested in 
 the discussion that was going on, she by no means second- 
 ed Lily's attempt to get up an under-current of talk. In 
 general, Lily liked to listen to conversation in silence, 
 but she was now in very high spirits, and could not bo 
 quiet; fortunately, she had no interest in the subject the 
 gentlemen were discussing, so that she could not meddle 
 with that, and finding Alethca silent, and. Claude out of 
 reach, she turned to Reginald, and talked and tittered with 
 him all dinner time. 
 
 In the drawing-room she had it all her own way, and 
 talked enough for all the sisters. 
 
 " Have you heard that cousin Eotherwood is coming ? " 
 
 " Yes, you said so before dinner." 
 
 " We hope," said Emily, " that you and Mr. Weston 
 will dine here on Tuesday. The Carringtens are coming, 
 and a few others." 
 
 " Thank you," said Alethea ; " I dare say papa will 
 be very glad to come." 
 
 " Have you ever seen Rotherwood ? " said Lilias. 
 
 " Never," was the reply. 
 
 " Do not expect much," said Lily, laughing, though she 
 knew not why; "he is a very little fellow, no one would 
 suppose him to be twenty, he has such a boyish look. 
 Then he never sits down — " 
 
90 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 " Literally ? " said Emily. 
 
 " Literally," persisted Lily ; " such a quick person you 
 neyer did see." 
 
 " Is he at Oxford ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! it was all Papa's doing that he was sent 
 to Eton. Papa is his guardian. Aunt Rotherwood never 
 would have parted with him." 
 
 " He is the only son," interposed Emily. 
 
 "Uncle Rotherwood put him quite in Papa's power; 
 aunt Rotherwood wanted to keep him at home with a tutor, 
 and what she would have made of him, I cannot think," 
 said Lily ; and regardless of Emily's warning frowns, and 
 Alethca's attempt to change the subject, she went on : 
 " When he was quite a child he used to seem a realiza- 
 tion of all the naughty Dicks and Toms in story-books. 
 Miss Sliddleton had a perfect horror of his coming here, 
 for he would mind no one, and played tricks, and drew 
 Claude into mischief; but he is quite altered since Papa 
 had the management of him — Oh ! such talks as Papa 
 has had with aunt Rotherwood — do you know, Papa says 
 no one knows what it is to lose a father, but those who 
 have the care of his children, and aunt Rotherwood is so 
 provoking." 
 
 Here Alethea determined to put an end to this oration, 
 and to Emily's great relief, she cut short the detail of Lady 
 Rotherwood's offences, by saying, " Do you think Faith 
 Longley likely to suit us, if we took her to help the house- 
 maid?" 
 
 " Are you thinking of taking her ? " cried Lilly. " Yes, 
 for steady, stupid household work, Eaith would do very 
 well ; she is just the stuff to make a servant of, — ' for dull- 
 ness ever must be regular ' — I mean for those who like 
 mere steadiness better than any thing more lovcable." 
 
THE BROTHEIIS. 91 
 
 As Aletliea said, laugliing, " I must confess my respect 
 for that quality," Mr. Dcvereux and Claude entered the 
 room. 
 
 " Oh, Robert," cried Lily, " Mrs. Weston is going to 
 take Faith Longley to help the housemaid." 
 
 " You are travelling too fast, Lily," said Alethea, " she 
 is only going to think about it." 
 
 " I should be very glad," said Mr. Devereux, " that 
 Faith should have a good place, the Longleys are very 
 respectable people, and they behaved particularly well in 
 refusing to let this girl go and live with some dissenters at 
 Stoney Bridge." 
 
 "I like what I have seen of the girl very much," said 
 Miss Weston. 
 
 " In spite of her sad want of feeling," said Robert, 
 smiling, as he looked at Lily. 
 
 " Oh ! she is a good work-a-day sort of person," said 
 Lily, " like all other poor people, hard and passive. Now, 
 do not set up your eye-brows, Claude, I am quite serious, 
 there is no warmth about any except — " 
 
 " So this is what Lily is come to ! " cried Emily ; " the 
 grand supporter of the poor on poetical principles." 
 
 " The poor not affectionate ! " said Alethea. 
 
 " Not, compared with people whose minds and affections 
 have been cultivated," said Lily. " Now just hear what 
 Mrs. Wall said to me only yesterday ; she asked for a black 
 stuff gown out of the clothing club, ' for', said she, ' I had 
 a misfortune, Miss,' I thought it would be, ' and tore my 
 gown,' but it was, ' I had a misfortune. Miss, and lost my 
 brother.' " 
 
 " A very harsh conclusion on very slight groimds," 
 said Mr. Devereux. 
 
 " Prove the contrary," said Lily. 
 
92 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 " Facts would scarcely demonstrate it either way," 
 said Mr. Devereux. " They would only prove what was 
 the case with individuals who chanced to come in our way 
 and if we are seldom able to judge of the depth of feeling 
 of those with whom we are familiar, how much less of 
 those who feel our presence a restraint." 
 
 " Intense feeling mocks restraint," said Lily. 
 
 " Violent, not intense," said Mr. Devereux. " Besides, 
 you talk of cultivating the affections. Now what do you 
 mean ? Exercising them, or talking about them ? " 
 
 "Ah ! " said Emily, " the affection of a poor person is 
 more tried ; we blame a poor man for letting his old mother 
 go to the workhouse, without considering how many of us 
 would do the same, if we had as little to live upon." 
 
 " Still," said Alethea, the same man who would refuse 
 to maintain her if poor, would not bear with her infirmities 
 if rich." 
 
 " Are the poor never infirm and peevish ? " said Mr. 
 Devereux. 
 
 " Oh ! how much worse it must be to bear with ill- 
 temper in poverty," said Emily, " when we think it quite 
 wonderful to see a young lady kind and patient with a 
 cross old relation ; what must it be when she is denying 
 herself, not only her pleasure, but her food for her sake ; 
 not merely sitting quietly with her all day, and calling a 
 servant to wait upon her, but toiling all day to maintain 
 her, and keeping awake half the night to nurse her ? " 
 
 " Those are realities, indeed," said Alethea ; " our 
 greatest efforts seem but child's play in comparison." 
 
 Lilias could hardly have helped being sobered by this 
 conversation, if she had attended to it, but she had turned 
 away to repeat the story of Mrs. Wall to Jane, and then, 
 fancying that the others were still remarking upon it, she 
 
TUE BEOTHERS. 93 
 
 said in a light, laughing tone, " Well, so far I agree with 
 you. I know of a person who may well be called one of 
 ourselves, who I could quite fancy making such a speech." 
 
 *' Whom do you mean ? " said Mr. Devereux. 
 
 Alethea wished she did not know. 
 
 " No very distant relation," said Jane. 
 
 " Do not talk nonsense, Jane," said Claude, gravely. 
 
 " No nonsense at all, Claude," cried Jane, in her very 
 pertest tone, " it is exactly like Eleanor ; I am sure I can 
 see her with her hands before her, saying in her prim 
 voice, ' I must turn my old black silk, and trim it with 
 crape, for I have had a misfortune,' and lost my brother." 
 
 " Lilias," said Miss Weston, somewhat abruptly, " did 
 you not wish to sing with me this evening ? " 
 
 And thus she kept Lilias from any further public mis- 
 chief that evening. 
 
 Claude, exceedingly vexed by what had passed, with 
 great injustice, laid the blame upon Miss Weston, and 
 instead of rendering her the honour which she really de- 
 served for the tact with which she had put an end to the 
 embarrassment of all parties, he fancied she was anxious 
 to display her talents for music, and thus, only felt fretted 
 by the sounds. 
 
 Mr. Weston and his daughter intended to walk home 
 that evening, as it was a beautiful moonlight night. 
 
 " Oh ! let us convoy you," exclaimed Lilias ; " I dc 
 long to show Alethea a glow-worm. Will you come, 
 Claude ? May we, papa ? Feel how stiU and warm it is. 
 A perfect summer night, not a breath stirring." 
 
 Mr. Mohun consented, and Lily almost hurried Alethea 
 up stairs, to put on her bonnet and shawl. When she came 
 down, she found that the walking party had increased. Jane 
 and Eeginald would both have been in despair to have 
 
94 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 missed such a frolic ; Maurice hoped to fall in ■with the 
 droning beetle, or to lay violent hands on a glow-worm; 
 Emily did not like to be left behind, and even Mr. Mohun 
 was going, being in the midst of an interesting conversa- 
 tion with Mr. Weston. Lily, with an absurd tragic ges- 
 ture, told Alethea, that amongst so many, such a crowd, 
 all the grace and sweet influence of the walk was ruined. 
 The " sweet influence " was ruined, as far as Lily was con- 
 cerned, but not by the number of her companions. It was 
 the uneasy feeling caused by her over-strained spirits and 
 foolish chattering, that prevented her from really entering 
 into the charm of the soft air, the clear moon, the solemn 
 deep blue sky, the few stars, the white lilies on the dark 
 pond, the long shadows of the trees, the freshness of the 
 dewy fields. Her simplicity, and her genuine delight in 
 the loveliness of the scene, was gone for the time, and 
 though she spoke much of her enjoyment, it was in a high- 
 flown, aifected style. 
 
 When the last good night had been exchanged, and 
 Lilly had turned homeward, she felt the stillness which 
 succeeded their farewells almost oppressive ; she started 
 at the dark shadow of a tree which lay across her path, 
 and to shake ofi' a sensation of fear which was coming over 
 her, she put her arm within Claude's, exclaiming, " Tou 
 naughty boy, you will be stupid and silent, say what I 
 will." 
 
 " I heard enough to-night to strike me dumb," said 
 Claude. 
 
 For one moment Lily thought he was in jest, but the 
 gravity of his manner showed her that he was both grieved 
 and displeased, and she changed her tone as she said^ 
 ' Oh ! Claude, what do you mean ? " 
 
 " Do you not know ? " said Claude. 
 
THE BROTHERS. 95 
 
 " What, you mean about Eleanor ? " said Lily ; " you 
 must fall upon Miss Jenny there — it was her doing." 
 
 " Jane's tongue is a pest," said Claude ; " but she was 
 not the first to speak evil falsely of one to whom you owe 
 every thing. Oh ! Lily, I cannot tell you how that allu- 
 sion of yours sounded." 
 
 " What allusion ? " asked Lily in alarm, for she had . 
 never seen her gentle brother so angry. 
 
 " You know," said he. 
 
 " Indeed, I do not," exclaimed Lily, much frightened. 
 " Claude, Claude, you must mistake, I never could have 
 said any thing so very shocking." 
 
 " I hope I do," said Claude ; " I could hardly believe 
 that one of the little ones who cannot remember him, 
 could have referred to him in that way — but for you ! " 
 
 " Him ? " said Lilias. 
 
 " I do not like to mention his name to one who regards 
 him so lightly," said Claude. " Think over what passed, 
 if you are sufGiciently come to yourself to remember it." 
 
 After a little pause, Lily said in a subdued voice, 
 " Claude, I hope you do not believe that I was thinking 
 of what really happened, when I said that." 
 
 " Pray, what were you thinking of ? " 
 
 " The abstract view of Eleanor's character." 
 
 " Abstract nonsense ! " said Claude. " A fine demon- 
 stration of the rule of love, to go about the world slander- 
 ing your sister ! " 
 
 " To go about the world ! Oh ! Claude, it was only 
 Robert, one of ourselves, and Alethea, to whom I tell 
 every thing.'' 
 
 " So much the worse. I always rejoiced that you had 
 no foolish young lady friend to make missish confidences 
 to." 
 
96 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 " She is no foolish young lady friend," said Lilias, in- 
 dignant in her turn, " she is five years older than I am, 
 and papa wishes us to be intimate with her." 
 
 " Then the fault is in yourself," said Claude. " You 
 ought not to have told such things if they were true, and 
 being utterly false — " 
 
 " But, Claude, I cannot see that they are false." 
 
 " Not false, that Eleanor cared not a farthing for 
 Harry ! " cried Claude, shaking off Lily's arm and stop- 
 ping short. 
 
 " Oh 1 she cared, she really did care," said Lily, as fast 
 as she could speak. " Oh ! Claude, how could you think 
 that ? I told you I did not mean what really happened, 
 only that — Eleanor is cold — not as warm as some people 
 — she did care for him, of course she did — I know that — 
 I believe she loved him with all her heart — ^but yet — I 
 mean she did not — she went on as usual — said nothing — 
 scarcely cried — looked the same — taught us — ^never — Oh ! 
 it did not make half the difference in her that it did in 
 William." 
 
 " I cannot tell how she behaved at the time," said 
 Claude, " I only know I never had any idea what a loss 
 Harry was, till I came home and saw her face. I used 
 never to trouble myself to think whether people looked 
 ill or well, but the change in her did strike me. She was 
 bearing up to comfort papa, and to cheer William, and to 
 do her duty by all of us, and you could take such noble 
 resignation for want of feeling ! " 
 
 Lilias looked down and tried to speak, but she was 
 choked by her tears; she could not bear Claude's displea- 
 sure, and she wept in silence. At last she said ia a voice 
 broken by sobs, " I was unjust — I know Eleanor was all 
 kindness — all self-sacrifice — I have been very ungrateful — 
 
THE BROTHERS. ' 97 
 
 I wish I could help it — and you know well, Claude, how 
 far I am from regarding dear Harry with indifiference — 
 how the thought of him is a star m my mind — how happy 
 it makes me to think of him at the end of the Church 
 Militant Prayer; do not believe I was dreaming of him." 
 
 " And pray," said Claude, laughing in his own good- 
 humored way, " which of us ia it, that she is so willing to 
 lose?" 
 
 "Oh! Claude, no such thing," said Lily, "you know 
 what I meant, or did not mean. It was nonsense — I hope 
 nothing worse." Lily felt that she might take his arm 
 again. There was a little silence, and then Lily resumed 
 in a timid voice, " I do not know whether you will be 
 angry, Claude, but honestly, I do not think that if — that 
 Eleanor would be so wretched about you as I should." 
 
 "Eleanor knew Harry better than you did; no, Lily, 
 I never could have been what Harry was, even if I had never 
 wasted my time, and if my headaches had not interfered 
 with my best efforts." 
 
 " I do not believe that, say what you will," said Lily. 
 
 " Ask William, then," said Claude, sighing. 
 
 " I am sure papa does not think so," said Lily, " no, I 
 cannot feel that Harry is such a loss when we still have 
 you." 
 
 " Oh ! Lily, it is plain that you never knew Harry," 
 said Claude. " I do not believe you ever did — that is one 
 thing to be said for you." 
 
 "Not as you did," said Lily; "remember he was six 
 years older. Then think how little we saw of him while 
 they were abroad ; he was always at school, or spending the 
 holidays with aunt Robert, and latterly even further off, and 
 only coming sometimes for an hour or two to see us. Then 
 he used to kiss us all round, we went into the garden with 
 5 
 
98 EIGHTEEN MOKTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 him, looked at tim, and were rather afraid of him', then 
 he walked off to Wat Greenwood, came hack, wished U3 
 good hye, and away he went." 
 
 " Yes," said Claude, " hut after they came home ? " 
 
 " Then he was a tall youth, and we were silly girls," 
 said Lilias; "he avoided Miss Middleton, and we were 
 always with her. He was good natured, hut he could not 
 get on with us ; he did very well with the little ones, hut 
 we were of the wrong age. He and William and Eleanor 
 were one faction, we were another, and you were hetween 
 both — he was too old, too sublime, too good, too grave for 
 us." 
 
 " Too grave ! " said Claude ; " I never heard a laugh so 
 full of glee, except, perhaps, Phyllis's." 
 
 "The last time he was at home," continued Lily, " wc 
 began to know him better, there was no Miss Middleton in 
 the way, and after you and William were gone, he used to 
 walk with us, and read to us. He read ' Guy Mannering ' 
 to us, and told us the story of Sir Maurice de Mohun ; but 
 the loss was not the same to us as to you elder ones ; and 
 then sorrow was almost lost in admiration, and in pleasure 
 at the terms in which every one spoke of him. Claude, I 
 have no difficulty in not wishing it otherwise ; he is still my 
 brother, and I would not change the feeling which the 
 thought of his death gives me — no, not for himself in life 
 and health." 
 
 " Ah ! " sighed Claude, " you have no cause for self- 
 reproach — ^no reason to lament over ' wasted hours and 
 love misspent.' " 
 
 " You will always talk of your old indolence, as if it 
 was a great crime," said Lily. 
 
 " It was my chief temptation," said Claude. " As long 
 as we know wo are out of the path of duty, it does not 
 
THE BROTHERS. 99 
 
 make mucli difference whether 'vre Lave turned to the right 
 hand or to the left." 
 
 " Was it Harry's death that made you look upon it 
 in this light ? " said Lily. 
 
 " I knew it well enough before," said Claude, " it was 
 what he had often set before me. Indeed, till I came 
 home, and saw this place without him, I never really knew 
 what a loss he was. At Eaton, I did not miss him more 
 than when he went to Oxford, and I did not dwell on what 
 he was to papa, or what I ought to be ; and even when I 
 saw what home was without him, I should have contented 
 myself with miserable excuses about my health, if it had 
 not been for my Confirmation; then I awoke, I saw my 
 duty, and the wretched way in which I had been spending 
 my time. Thoughts of Harry and of my father came 
 afterwards, I had not vigor enough for them before." 
 
 Here they reached the house, and parted — Claude, 
 ashamed of having talked of himself for the first time in 
 his life, and Lily divided between shame at her own folly, 
 and pleasure at Claude's having thus opened his mind. 
 
 Jane, who was most in fault, escaped censure. Her 
 father was ignorant of her improper speech. Emily forgot 
 it, and it was not Claude's place to reprove his sisters, 
 though to Lily he spoke as a friend. It passed away from 
 her mind like other idle words, which, however, could not 
 but leave an impression on those who heard her. 
 
 An unlooked-for result of the folly of this evening was, 
 that Claude was prevented from appreciating Miss Weston. 
 He could not learn to like her, nor shake off an idea that 
 she was prying into their family concerns ; he thought her 
 over-praised, and would not even give just admiration to 
 her singing, because he had once fancied her eager to ex- 
 hibit it. It was unreasonable to dislike his sister's friend 
 
100 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCE.OFT. 
 
 for his sister's folly, but Claude's -wisdom was not yet 
 arrived at its full growth, and he deserved credit for keep- 
 ing his opinion to himself. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE WASP. 
 
 " ■Whom He hath blessed and called His own, 
 Uo tries them early, look and tone. 
 
 Bent brow and throbbing heart, 
 Tries them with pain." 
 
 The next week, Lily had the pleasure of fitting out Faith 
 Longley for her place at Mrs. Weston's. She rejoiced at 
 this opportunity of patronizing her, because in her secret 
 soul, she felt that she might have done her a little injustice, 
 in choosing her own favourite Esther in her stead. Esther's 
 popularity at the New Court, however, made Lilias confi- 
 dent in her own judgment; the servants liked her because 
 she was quick and obliging, Mr. Mohun said she looked very 
 neat, Phyllis liked her because a mischance to her frock 
 was not BO grave an offence with her as with Eaohel, and 
 Ada was growing very fond of her, because she was in the 
 habit of bestowing great admiration on her golden curls as 
 she arranged them, and both little girls were glad not to 
 be compelled to put away the playthings they took out. 
 
 Maurice and Reginald had agreed to defer their on- 
 slaught on the wasps till Lord Eotherwood's arrival, and 
 the war was now limited to attacks on foraging parties. 
 Reginald most carefally marked every nest about the gar- 
 den and farm, and, on his cousin's arrival, on Saturday 
 
THE WASP. 101 
 
 evening, began eagerly to give bim a list of tbeir localities. 
 Lord Rotherwood was as ardent in tlie cause as even 
 Reginald could desire, and would have instantly set out 
 with him to reconnoitre, had not the evening been rainy. 
 
 Then turning to Claude he said, " But I have not told 
 you what brought me here, I came to persuade you to make 
 an expedition with me up the Rhine ; I set ofif next week ; 
 I would not write about it, because I knew you would only 
 say you should like it very much, but — some but, that 
 meant it was a great deal too much trouble." 
 
 " How fast the plan has risen up," said Claude, " I 
 heard nothing of it when I was with you." 
 
 " Oh ! it only came into my head last week, but I do 
 not see what there is to wait for, second thoughts are never 
 best." 
 
 "Oh!. Claude, how delightful," said Lily. 
 
 Claude stirred his tea meditatively, and did not speak. 
 
 " It is too much trouble, I perceive," said Lord Rother- 
 wood; " just as I told you." 
 
 " Not exactly," said Claude. 
 
 Lord Rotherwood now detailed his plan to his uncle, 
 who said with a propitious smile, " Well, Claude, what do 
 you think of it ? " 
 
 " Mind you catch a fire-fly for me," said Maurice. 
 
 " Why don't you answer, Claude ? " said Lilias, " only 
 imagine seeing Undine's Castle ! " 
 
 "Eh, Claude?" said his father. 
 
 "It would be very pleasant," said Claude, slowly, 
 "but—" 
 
 "What?" said Mr. Mohun. 
 
 " Only a but," said the Marquis. " I hope he will have 
 iisposed of it by the morning; I start next Tuesday week; 
 I would not go later for the universe ; we shall be just in 
 
102 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEEOHCBOFT. 
 
 time for the summer in its beauty, and to have a peep al 
 Switzerland. We shall not have time for Mont Blanc, 
 without rattling faster than any man in his senses would 
 do. I do not mean to leave any place till I have 
 thoroughly seen twice over every thing worth seeing that 
 it contains." 
 
 " Then perhaps you will get as far as Antwerp, and 
 spend the rest of the holidays between the Cathedral and 
 Paul Potter's bull. No, I shall have nothing to say to 
 you at that rate," said Claude. 
 
 " Depend upon it, it will be you that will wish to stand 
 still when I had rather be on the move," said the Marquis. 
 
 " Then you had better leave me behind. I have no 
 intention of being hurried over the world, and never hav- 
 ing my own way," said Claude, trying to look surly. 
 
 " I am sure I should not mind travelling twice over the 
 world to see Cologne Cathedral, or the field of Waterloo," 
 said Lily. 
 
 " Let me only show him my route," said Lord Kother- 
 wood. " Redgie, look in my great coat-pocket in the hall 
 for Murray's Hand-book, will you?" 
 
 " Go and get it, Phyl," said Reginald, who was astride 
 on the window-sill, peeling a stick. 
 
 Away darted Lord Kotherwood to fetohit himself, but 
 Phyllis was before him ; her merry laugh was heard, as he 
 chased her round the hall to get possession of his book, 
 throwing down two or three cloaks to intercept her path. 
 Mr. Mohun took the opportunity of his absence to tell 
 Claude that he need not refuse on the score of expense. 
 
 " Thank you," was all Claude's answer. 
 
 Lord Rotherwood returned, and after punishing the 
 discourteous Reginald by raising him up by his ears, he 
 proceeded to give a full description of the delights of his 
 
THE WASP. 103 
 
 expedition, the girls joining heartily with him in declaring 
 it as well arranged as possible, and bringing all their 
 knowledge of German travels to bear upon it. Claude 
 sometimes put in a word, but never as if he cared much 
 about the matter, and he was not to be persuaded to give 
 any decided answer as to whether he would accompany the 
 Marquis. 
 
 The nest morning at breakfast. Lord Eotherwood re- 
 turned to the charge, but Claude seemed even more inclined 
 to refuse than the day before. Lilias could not divine 
 what was the matter with him, and lingered long after her 
 sisters had gone to school, to hear what answer he would 
 make; and when Mr. Blohun looked at his watch, and asked 
 her if she knew how late it was, she rose from the break- 
 fast-table with a sigh, and thought while she was putting 
 on her bonnet how much less agreeable the school had been 
 since the schism in the parish. And besides, now that Faith 
 and Esther, and one or two others of her best scholars, had 
 gone away from school, there seemed to be none of any 
 intelligence or knowledge left in the class, except Marianne 
 Weston, who knew too much for the others, and one or two 
 clever inattentive little girls : Lily almost disliked teaching 
 them. 
 
 Phyllis and Adeline were in Miss Weston's class, and 
 much did they delight in her teaching. There was a quiet 
 earnestness in her manner which attracted her pupils, and 
 fixed their attention, so as scarcely to allow the careless 
 room for irreverence, while mere cleverness seemed almost 
 to lose its advantage in learning, what can only truly be 
 entered into by those whose conduct agrees with their, 
 knowledge. 
 
 Phyllis never dreamt that she could be happy while 
 standing still and learning, till Miss Weston began to teach 
 
104 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 at the Sunday Sctool. Obedience at school taught her to 
 acquire hahits of reverent attention, which gradually con- 
 quered the idleness and weariness which had once possessed 
 her at Church. First, she learnt to be interested in the 
 Historical Lessons, then never to lose her place in the 
 Psalms, then to think about and follow .some of the Pray- 
 ers ; by this time she was far from feeling any fatigue at all 
 on week days; she had succeeded in restraining any con- 
 tortions to relieve herself from the irksomeness of sitting 
 still, and had her thoughts in tolerable order through the 
 greater part of the Sunday service, and now it was her 
 great wish, unknown to any one, to abstain from a single 
 yawn through the whole service, including the sermon ! 
 
 Her place (chosen for her by Eleanor when first she 
 had begun to go to Church, as far as possible from Regi- 
 nald) was at the end of the seat, between her papa and the 
 wall. This morning, as she put her arm on the book board, 
 while rising from the kneeling, she felt a sudden thrill of 
 sharp pain near her left elbow, which made her start vio- 
 lently, and would have caused a scream, had she not been 
 in Church. She saw a wasp fall on the ground, and was 
 just about to put her foot on it, when she recollected where 
 she was. She had never in her life intentionally killed any 
 thing, and this was no time to begin, in that place, and 
 when she was angry. The pain was severe — more so per- 
 haps than any she had felt before — and very much fright- 
 ened, she pulled her papa's coat, to draw his attention. 
 But her first pull was so slight that he did not feel it, and 
 before she gave a second, she remembered that she could 
 not make him hear what was the matter, without more noise 
 than was proper. No, she must stay where she was, and 
 try to bear the pain, and she knew that if she did try, help 
 would be given her. She proceeded to find out the Psalm 
 
THE WASP. 105 
 
 and join her voice with the others, though her heart was 
 beating very fast, her forehead was contracted, and she 
 could not help keeping her right hand clasped round her 
 arm, and sometimes shifting from one foot to the other. 
 The sharpness of the pain soon went off; she was able to 
 attend to the Lessons, and hoped it would soon be quite 
 well ; but as soon as she began to think about it, it began 
 to ache and throb, and seemed each moment to be growing 
 hotter. The sermon especially tried her patience, her 
 cheeks were burning, she felt sick and hardly able to hold 
 up her head, yet she would not lean it against the wall, 
 because she had often been told not to do so. She was 
 exceedingly alarmed to find that her arm had swelled so 
 much that she could hardly bend it, and it had received 
 the impression of the gathers of her sleeve; she thought 
 no sermon had ever been so long, but she sat quite still and 
 upright, as she could not have done, had she not trained 
 herself unconsciously, by her efforts to leave off the trick 
 of kicking her heels together. She did not speak till she 
 was in the churchyard, and then she made Emily look at 
 her arm. 
 
 " My poor child, it is frightful," said Emily, " what is 
 the matter ? " 
 
 " A wasp stung me just before the Psalms," said 
 Phyllis, " and it goes on swelling and swelling, and it does 
 pant!" 
 
 "What is the matter?" asked Mr. Mohun. 
 
 " Papa, just look," said Emily, " a wasp stung this dear 
 child quite early in the service, and she has been bearing it 
 all this time in silence. Why did you not show mo, 
 Phyl?" 
 
 " Because it was in Church," said the little girl. 
 5* 
 
106 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCBOFT. 
 
 " Why, Phyllis, you are a very Spartan," said Lord 
 Kotherwood. 
 
 " Something better than a Spartan," said Mr. Mohun. 
 ' Does it give you much pain now, my dear ? " 
 
 " Not so bad as in Church," said Phyllis, " only I am 
 very tired, and it is so hot." 
 
 " We will help you home then," said Mr. Mohun. As 
 ho took her up in his arms, Phyllis laughed, thanked him, 
 replied to various enquiries from her sisters and the 
 Westons — laughed again at sundry jokes from her brothers, 
 then became silent, and was almost asleep, with her head 
 on her papa's shoulder, by the time they reached the hall- 
 door. She thought it very strange to be laid down on the 
 sofa in the drawing-room, and to find every one attending 
 to her. Mrs. Weston bathed her forehead with lavender- 
 water, and Lily cut open the sleeve of her frock; Jane 
 fetched all manner of remedies, and Emily pitied her. 
 She was rather frightened : she thought such a fuss would 
 not be made about her unless she was very ill ; she was 
 faint and tired, and was glad when Mrs. Weston proposed 
 that they should all come away, and leave her to go to 
 sleep quietly. 
 
 Marianne was so absorbed in admiration of Phyllis, 
 that she did not speak one word all the way from Church 
 to the New Court, and stood in silence watching the oper- 
 ations upon her friend, till Mrs. Weston sent every one 
 away. 
 
 Adeline rather envied Phyllis ; she would willingly have 
 endured the pain, to be made of so much importance, and 
 said to be better than a Spartan, which must be doubtless 
 something very fine indeed ! 
 
 Phyllis was waked by the bells ringing for the after- 
 noon service ; Mrs. Weston was sitting by her, reading. 
 
COUSIN KOTHERWOOD. 107 
 
 Claude came to enquire for her, and to tell her that as she 
 had lost her early dinner, she was to join the' rest of the 
 party at six. To her great surprise she felt quite well and 
 fresh, and her arm was much better ; !RIrs. "Weston pinned 
 up her sleeve, and she set off with her to Church, wonder- 
 ing whether Ada would remember to tell her what she had 
 missed that afternoon at school. Those whose approbation 
 was valuable, honoured Phyllis for her conduct, but she 
 did not perceive it, or seek for it ; she did not look like a 
 heroine while running about and playing with Reginald 
 and the dogs in the evening, but her papa had told her she 
 was a good child, Claude had given her one of his kindest 
 smiles, and she was happy. Even when Esther was look- 
 ing at the mark left by the sting, and telling her that she 
 was sure Bliss Marianne Weston would not have been half 
 so good, her simple, humble spirit came to her aid, and she 
 answered, " I'll tell you what, Esther, Marianne would have 
 behaved much better, for she is older, and never fidgets, 
 and she would not have been angry like me, and just going 
 to kill the wasp." 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 COUSIN ROTHEEWOOD. 
 
 " We care not who says 
 And intends it dispraise. 
 That an Angler to a fool is next neighbour." 
 
 In the evening, Lord Rotherwood renewed his entreaties 
 to Claude to join him on his travels. He was very much 
 bent on taking him for his own pleasure depended not a 
 
108 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 little on Lis cousin's company. Claude lay on the grassy 
 slope of the terrace, while Lord Eotherwood paced rapidly 
 up and down hefore him, persuading him with all the 
 allurements he could think of, and looking the picture of 
 impatience. Lily sat by, adding her weight to all his 
 arguments. But Claude was almost contemptuous to all 
 the beauties of Germany, and all the promised sights ; he 
 scarcely gave himself the trouble to answer his tormentors, 
 only vouchsafing sometimes to open his lips to say that he 
 neyer meant to go to a country where people spoke a lan- 
 guage- that sounded like cracking walnuts ; that he hated 
 steamers ; had no fancy for tumble-down castles ; that 
 it was so common to travel ; there was more distinction in 
 staying at home ; that the field of "Waterloo had been 
 spoilt, and was not worth seeing; his ideas of glaciers 
 would be ruined by the reality ; and he did not care to see 
 Cologne Cathedral till it was finished. 
 
 On this Lily set up an outcry of horror. 
 
 " One comfort is, Lily," said Lord Rotherwood, " he 
 does not mean it ; he did not say it from the bottom of 
 his heart. Now confess you did not, Claude." 
 
 Claude pretended to be asleep. 
 
 " I see plainly enough," said the Marquis to Lily, " it 
 is as Wat Greenwood says, ' Mr. Reynold and the grapes.' " 
 
 " But it is not," said Lily, " and that is what provokes 
 me ; Papa says he is quite welcome to go if he likes, and 
 that he thinks it will do him a great deal of good, but that 
 foolish boy will say nothing but ' I will think about it,' and 
 ' thank you.' " 
 
 " Then I give him up as regularly dense." 
 
 " It is the most delightful plan ever thought of," said 
 Lily, " so easily done, and just bringing within his compass 
 all he ever wished to see." 
 
COUSIN ROTIIERWOOD. 109 
 
 " Oh ! bis sole ambition is to stretob those long legs of 
 his on the grass, like a great vegetable marrow." said Lord 
 Rotherwood. " It is vegetating liie a plant that makes 
 him so much taller than any rational creature with a little 
 animal life.'' 
 
 '' I think Jane has his share of curiosity," said Lily, 
 " I am sure I had no idea that any thing belonging to us 
 could be so stupid." 
 
 " "Well," said the Marquis, "I shall not go." 
 
 " No ? " said Lily. 
 
 " No, I shall certainly not go." 
 
 " Nonsense," said Claude, waking from his pretended 
 sleep, " why do you not ask Trarers to go with you ? He 
 would like nothing better," 
 
 " He is a botanist, and would bore me with looking for 
 weeds. No, I will have you, or stay at home." 
 
 Claude proposed several others as companions, but 
 Lord Rotherwood treated them all with as much disdain as 
 Claude had shown for Germany, and ended with " Now, 
 Claude, you know my determination, only tell me why you 
 will not go." 
 
 " Then I do tell you, Rotherwood, the truth is, that 
 those boys, Maurice and Reginald, are perfectly unman- 
 ageable when they are left alone with the girls." 
 
 " Have a tutor for them," said the Marquis. 
 
 " Very much obliged to you they wauld be for the sug- 
 gestion," said Claude. 
 
 " Oh ! but Claude," said Lily. 
 
 " I really cannot go. They mind no one but the Baron 
 and me, and besides that it would be no small annoyance 
 to the house ; ten tutors could not keep them from inde- 
 scribable bits of mischief. I undertook them these holi- 
 days, and I mean to keep them." 
 
110 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEEOHCROFT. 
 
 Lilias was just flying off to her father, when Ciauda 
 caught hold of her, saying, " I desire you will not," and 
 she stood still, looking at her cousin in dismay. 
 
 " It is all right," cried the Marquis, joyfully, " it is 
 only to set off three weeks later." 
 
 " Oh ! I thought you would not go a week later for the 
 universe," said Claude, smiling. 
 
 "Not for the U — niverse, but for U — ," said Lord 
 Rotherwood. 
 
 " Worthy of' a companion true, of the U — niversity of 
 Grottingen," said Claude, " but Eotherwood, do you really 
 mean that it will make no difference to you ? " 
 
 " None whatever ; I meant to spend three weeks with 
 my mother at the end of the tour, and I shall spend them 
 now instead. I only talked of going immediately, because 
 nothing is done at all that is not done quickly, and I hate 
 delays, but it is all the same, and now it stands for Tuesday 
 three weeks. Now we shall see what he says to Cologne, 
 Lily." 
 
 Claude sprung up, and began talking over arrangements 
 and possibilities with zest, which showed what his wishes 
 had been from the first. All was quickly settled, and as 
 soon as his father had given his cordial approbation to the 
 scheme, it was amusing to see how animated and active 
 Claude became, and in how different a style he talked of 
 the once slighted Ehine. 
 
 Lord Rotherwood told the boys that their brother was 
 a great deal too good for them, but they never troubled 
 themselves to ask in what respect ; Lilias took very great 
 delight in telling Emily of the sacrifice which he had been 
 willing to make, and looked forward to talking it over with 
 A.lethea, but she refrained, as long as he was at home, as 
 
COUSIN EOTHERWOOD. Ill 
 
 she knew it would greatly displease him, and she had heard 
 enough about Missish confidences. 
 
 The Marquis of Rotherwood was certainly the very re- 
 verse of his chosen travelling companion, in the matter of 
 activity. He made an appointment with the two boys to 
 get up at half-past four cm. Monday morning for some fish- 
 ing, before the sun was too high — Maurice not caring for 
 the sport, but intending to make prize of any of the " in- 
 sect-youth " which might prefer the sun-rise for their gam- 
 bols, and Reginald, in high delight at the prospect of real 
 fishing, something beyond his own performances with a 
 stick and a string, in pursuit" of minnows in the ditches. 
 Reginald was making contrivances for tying a string round 
 his wrist and hanging the end of it from the window, that 
 Andrew G-rey might give it a pull as he went by to his 
 work, to wake him, when Lord Rotherwood exclaimed, 
 " What ! cannot you wake yourself at any time you 
 please ? " 
 
 " No," said Reginald, " I never heard of any one that 
 could." 
 
 " Then I advise you to learn the art ; in the mean time, 
 I will call you to-morrow." 
 
 Loud voices and laughter in the hall, and the front 
 door creaking on its hinges at sun-rise, convinced the 
 household that this was no vain boast ; before breakfast 
 was quite over, the fishermen were seen approaching the 
 house. Lord Rotherwood was an extraordinary figure, in 
 an old shooting jacket of his uncle's, an enormous pair 
 of fishing-boots of William's, and the broad-brimmed 
 straw hat, which always hung up in the hall, and was not 
 claimed by any particular owner. 
 
 Maurice dislayed to Jane the contents of two phials, 
 Btrange little creatures, with stranger names, of which he 
 
112 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 was as proud as Reginald of his three fine trout. Lord 
 Rotherwood did not appear till he had made himself look 
 like other people, which he did in a surprisingly short tima 
 lie began estimating the weight of the fish, and talking at 
 his most rapid rate, till at last Claude said, " Phyllis told 
 us just now that you were coming back, for that she hoard 
 cousin Rotherwood talking, and it proved to be Jane's old 
 turkey cock gobbling." 
 
 " No bad compliment," said Emily, " for Phyllis was 
 OQce known to say, on hearing a turkey cock, ' how melo- 
 diously that nightingale sings.' " 
 
 " No, no ! that was Ada," said Lilias. 
 
 " I could answer for that," said Claude. " Phyllis was 
 too familiar with both parties to mistake their notes. Be- 
 sides, she was never known to use such a word as melo- 
 diously." 
 
 " Do you remember," said the Marquis, " that there 
 was some great lawyer who had three kinds of hand- 
 writing, one that the public could read, one that only his 
 clerk could read, and one that nobody could read ? " 
 
 " I suppose I am the clerk," said Claude, " unless I 
 divide the honour with Florence." 
 
 "I do not think I am unintelligible any where but 
 here," said Lord Rotherwood. " There is nothing sufii- 
 ciently exciting at home, if Grosvenor Square is to be 
 called home." 
 
 " Sometimes you do it without knowing it," said Lily. 
 
 "Yes," said Claude, "when you do not exactly know 
 what you are going to say." 
 
 " Then it is no bad plan," said Lord Rotherwood. 
 " People are satisfied, and you don't commit yourself." 
 
 "I'll tell you what, cousin Rotherwood," exclaimed 
 Phyllis, " your hand is bleeding." 
 
COUSIN nOTHERWOOD. 113 
 
 "Is it? Thank you, Phyllis, I thought I had washed 
 it off; now do find me some sealing-wax — India rubber — 
 sticking plaster, I mean." 
 
 " Oh ! Eotherwood," said Emily, " what a bad cut, how 
 did it happen? " 
 
 " Only, I am the victim to Maurice's first essay in fish- 
 ing." 
 
 " Just fancy what an awkard fellow Maurice is," said 
 Reginald, " he had but one throw, and he managed to stick 
 the hook into Rotherwood's hand." 
 
 " One of those barbed hooks ? Oh ! Rotherwood, how 
 horrid ! " said Emily. 
 
 " And he cut it out with his knife, and caught that 
 great trout with it directly," said Reginald. 
 
 " And neither half drowned Maurice, nor sent him home 
 again ? " asked Lily. 
 
 " I contented myself with taking away his weapon," 
 said the Marquis, " and he wished for nothing better than 
 to poke about in the gutters for insects, it was only Redgie 
 that teased him into the nobler sport." 
 
 EmOy was inclined to make a serious matter of the 
 accident, but her cousin said ten words while she said one, 
 and by the time her first sentence was uttered, she found 
 him talking about his ride to Devereux Castle. 
 
 He and Claude set out as soon as breakfast was over, 
 and came back about three o'clock ; Claude was tired with 
 the heat, and betook himself to the sofa, where he fell 
 asleep, under pretence of reading, but the indefatigable 
 Marquis was ready and willing to set out with Reginald 
 and Wat Greenwood to shoot rabbits. 
 
 Dinner-time came, and Emily sat at the drawing-room 
 window with Claude and Lilias, lamenting her cousin's bad 
 habits " Nothing will ever make him punctual," said she. 
 
114 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BBECHCKOFT. 
 
 " I am in duty bound to let you say nothing against 
 him," said Claude. 
 
 " It is very good natured in him to wait for you," said 
 Lily, " but it would be horribly selfish to leave you be- 
 hind." 
 
 " Delay is his great horror," said Claude, " and the 
 wonder of his character is, that he is not selfish. No one 
 had ever better training for it." 
 
 " He does like his own way very much," said Lilias. 
 
 " Who does not ? " said Claude. 
 
 " Nothing shows his sense so much," said Emily, " as 
 his great attachment to papa, — the only person who ever 
 controlled him." 
 
 " And to Claude, — ^his opposite in every thing," said 
 Lilias. 
 
 " I think he will tire you to death in Gerinany,'' said 
 Emily. 
 
 " Never fear," said Claude, " my vis inerticB is enough 
 to counterbalance any amount of restlessness." 
 
 " Here they come," said Lily, " how Wat Greenwood 
 is grinning at Rotherwood's jokes." 
 
 " A happy day for Wat," said Emily. " He will be 
 quite dejected if William is not at home next shooting 
 season. He thinks you a degenerate Mohun, Claude." 
 
 " He must comfort himself with Redgie," said Claude. 
 
 " Rotherwood is only eager about shooting, in common 
 with every thing else," said Lily, " but Redgie I fear, will 
 care for nothing else." 
 
 Lord Rotherwood came in, accounting for being late, 
 as, in passing through a harvest field, he could not help 
 attempting to reap. The Beeohcroft farming operations 
 had been his especial amusement from very early days, and 
 his Blans were numerous for farming on a grand scale, as 
 
COUSIN ROTHERWOOD. 115 
 
 soon as he should be of age. His talk during dinner was 
 of turnips and wheat, till at length Mr. Mohun asked him 
 what he thought of the appearance of the Castle. He said 
 it was very forlorn ; the rooms looked so dreary and de- 
 serted, that he could not bear to be in them, and had been 
 out of doors almost all the time. Indeed, he was afraid 
 he had disappointed the housekeeper, by not complimenting 
 her as she deserved, for the freezing dismal order in which 
 she kept every thing, " And really," said he, " I must go 
 again to-morrow and make up for it, and, Emily, you must 
 come with me and try to devise something to make the 
 unhappy place less like the abode of the Prince of the 
 Black Islands." 
 
 Emily willingly promised to go, and she went on talk- 
 ing to him, and telling him whom he was to meet on the 
 next day, when, an unusual silence making her look up, 
 she beheld him more than half asleep. 
 
 Reginald fidgetted and sighed, and Maurice grew 
 graver and graver as they thought of the wasps. Maurice 
 wanted to take a nest entire, and began explaining his plan 
 to Claude. 
 
 " You see, Claude, burning some straw and then dig- 
 ging, spoils the combs, as Wat does it ; now I have got 
 some pufiF-balls and sulphur to put into the hole, and set 
 fire to them with a lucifcr match, so as to stifle the wasps, 
 and then dig them out quietly to-morrow morning." 
 
 " It is all of no use, if that Eotherwood will do 
 nothing but sleep," said Reginald, in a disconsolate tone. 
 
 " You should not have made him get up at four," said 
 Emily. 
 
 "Who! I?" exclaimed the Marquis. "I never was 
 wider awake. What are you waiting for, Reginald? I 
 thought you were going to take wasps' nests." 
 
116 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 " You are muoli too tired, I am sure," said Emily. 
 
 " Tired ! not in the least, I have done nothing to-day 
 to tire me," said Lord Rotherwood, walking up and down 
 the room to keep himself awake. 
 
 The whole party went out, and found Wat G-reenwood 
 waiting for them with a bundle of straw, a spade, and a 
 little gunpowder. Maurice carried a basket containing all 
 his preparations, on which Wat looked with supreme con- 
 tempt, telling him that his puifs were " too green to make i 
 a smeech." Maurice not condescending to argue the point, 
 ran on to a nest which Reginald had marked on one of the 
 green banks of the ancient moat. 
 
 " Take care that the wasps are all come in; mind what 
 you are about, Blaurice,'' called his father. 
 
 " Master Maurice," shouted Wat, " you had better 
 take a green bough." 
 
 " Never mind, Wat," said Lord Eotherwood, "he would 
 not stay long enough to use it if he had it." 
 
 Reginald ran after Maurice, who had just reached the 
 nest. 
 
 " There is one coming in, the evening is so warm they 
 are not quiet yet." 
 
 "I'll quiet them," said Maurice, kneeling down, and 
 putting his first puff-ball into the hole. 
 
 Reginald stood by with a sly smile, as he pulled a 
 branch off a neighbouring filbert tree. The next moment 
 Maurice gave a sudden yell, " the wasps ! the wasps 1 " and 
 jumping up and tripping at his first step, rolled down the 
 bank, and landed safely at Lord Rotherwood's feet. The 
 shouts of laughter were loud, but he regarded them no*', 
 and as soon as he recovered his feet, rushed past his sisters 
 and never stopped till he reached the house. Redgie 
 stood alone, in the midst of a cloud of wasps, beating them 
 
COUSIN KOTHERWOOD. 117 
 
 off with a bough, roaring with laughter, and calling Wat 
 to bring the straw to burn them. 
 
 " No, no, Kedgie, come away, leave them for Maurice 
 to try again," said his father. 
 
 " The brute, he stung me," cried Reginald, knocking 
 down a wasp or two, as he came down. " What is this ? " 
 added he, as he stumbled over something at the bottom of 
 the slope. "Oh! Maurice's basket; look here, — lauda- 
 num, — did he mean to poison the wasps? " 
 
 " No," said Jane, " to cure their stings." 
 
 " The poor unhappy quiz ! " cried Reginald. 
 
 While the others were busy over a nest, Mr. Mohun 
 a,3ked Emily how the boy got at the medicine chest. 
 Emily looked confused, and said, she supposed Jane had 
 given him the bottle. 
 
 "Jane is too young to be trusted there," said Mr. 
 Mohun, " I thought you knew better ; do not let the key 
 be out of your possession again." 
 
 After a few more nests had been taken in the usual man- 
 ner, they returned to the house. Maurice was lying on the 
 sofa reading the Penny Magazine, from which he raised his 
 eyes no more that evening, in spite of all the jokes which 
 flew about respecting wounded knights, courage, and the 
 balsam of Fierabras. He called Jane to teach her how 
 files were made, and as soon as tea was over he went to bed. 
 Reginald, after many yawns, prepared to follow his exam- 
 ple, and as he was wishing his sisters good night, Emily 
 said, " Now, Redgie, do not go out at such a preposterous 
 hour to-morrow morning." 
 
 "What is that to you?" was Reginald's courteous 
 enquiry. 
 
 "I do no' wish to see every one fast asleep to-morrow 
 
118 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 evening," said Emily, and she looked at her cousin, whose 
 head was far back over his chair. 
 
 " He is a Trojan," said Reginald. 
 
 "Is a Trojan better than a Spartan?" asked Ada medi- 
 tatively. 
 
 " Helen thought so," said Claude. 
 
 " When Greek meets Greek, then comes the tug oi 
 war,' " muttered the Marquis. 
 
 " You are all talking Greek," said Jane. 
 
 " Arabic," said Claude. 
 
 As far as it could be comprehended. Lord Rother- 
 wood's answer related to JIaurice and the wasps. 
 
 " There," said Emily, "what is to be done if he is in 
 that condition to-morrow ? " 
 
 " I am not aleep ; what makes you think I am ? " 
 
 "I wish you would sit in that great chair," said Emily, 
 "I am afraid you will break your neck; you look so 
 uncomfortable, I cannot bear to see you." 
 
 " I never was more comfortable in my life," said Lord 
 Rotherwood, asleep while finishing the sentence; but this 
 time, happily with his elbows on the table, and his head iu 
 a safer position. 
 
 The next day was spent rather more rationally. Lord 
 Rotherwood met with a book of Irish Tales, with which 
 he became so engrossed, that he did not like to leave it 
 when Emily and Claude were ready to ride to Devereux 
 Castle with him. When there, he was equally eager and 
 vehement about each matter that came under consideration, 
 and so many presented themelves, that Emily began to be 
 in agonies lest she should not be at home in time to dress 
 and receive her guests. They did, however, reach the 
 house before Lilias, who had been walking with Miss 
 Weston, came in, and when she went up stairs, she found 
 
COUSIN ROTHERWOOD. 119 
 
 Emily full of complaints at tlie iBConvenience of having 
 no Rachel to assist her in dressing, and to see that every 
 thing was in order, and that Phyllis was fit to appear when 
 she came down in the evening ; but by the assistance of 
 Lily and Jane, she got over her troubles, and when she 
 went into the drawing-room, she was much relieved to find 
 her two gentlemen quite safe and dressed. She had been 
 in great fear of Lord Rotherwood's straying away to join 
 in some of Reginald's sports, and was grateful to the Irish 
 book for keeping him out of mischief 
 
 Emily was in her glory ; it was the first large dinner 
 party since Eleanor had gone, and though she pitied her- 
 self for having the trouble of entertaining the people, she 
 really enjoyed the feeling that she now appeared as the 
 mistress of New Court, with her cousin, the Marquis, by 
 her side, to show how highly she was connected. And 
 every thing went off just as could be wished. Lord Roth- 
 erwood talked intelligibly and sensibly, and Mr. Mohun's 
 neighbour at dinner had a Voice which he could hear. 
 Lily's pleasure was not less than her sister's, though of 
 a different kind. She delighted in thinking how well 
 Emily did the honours, in watching the varied expression 
 of Lord Rotherwood's animated countenance, in imagining 
 Claude's forehead to be finer than that of any one else, and 
 in thinking how people must admire Reginald's tall, active 
 figure, and very handsome face. She was asked to play, 
 and did tolerably well, but was too shy to sing, nor, indeed, 
 was Reginald encouraging. "What is the use of your 
 singing, Lily? If it was like Miss "Weston's now — ."^ 
 
 Reginald had taken a great fancy to Miss Weston ; he 
 stood by her all the evening, and afterwards let her talk to 
 him, and then began to chatter himself, at last becoming so 
 
120 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROET. 
 
 confidential, as to impart to ter the grand object of his 
 ambition, which was to be taller than Claude ! 
 
 The next morning Lord Eotherwood left Beeohoroft, 
 somewhat to Emily's relief; for though she was very proud 
 of him, and much enjoyed the dignity of being seen to talk 
 familiarly with him, yet, when no strangers were present) 
 and he became no more than an ordinary cousin, she was 
 worried by his incessant activity, and desire to see, know, 
 and do every thing as fast, and as thoroughly as possible. 
 She could not see the use of such vehemence ; she liked to 
 take things in a moderate way, and as Claude said, much 
 preferred the passive to the active voice. Claude, on the 
 contrary, was ashamed of his constitutional indolence, 
 looked oil it as a temptation, and struggled against it, 
 almost envying his cousin, his unabated eagerness and untir- 
 ing energy, and liking to be with him, because no one else 
 so effectually roused him from his habitual languor. His 
 indolence was, however, so much the effect of ill health, 
 that exertion was sometimes scarcely in his power, especially 
 in hot weather, and by the time his brothers' studies were 
 finished each day, he was unfit for any thing but to lie on 
 the grass under the plane-tree. 
 
 The days glided on, and the holidays came to an end ; 
 Maurice spent them in adding to his collection of insects, 
 which, with Jane's assistance he arranged very neatly; 
 and Reginald and Phyllis performed several exploits, more 
 agreeable to themselves, than satisfactory to the more 
 rational part of the New Court community. At the same 
 time, Eeginald's devotion to Miss Weston increased, he 
 never moved from her side when she sang, did not fail to 
 be of the party when she walked with his sisters, offered 
 her one of his own puppies, named his little ship " Alethea," 
 and was even tolerably civil to Slarianne. 
 
DANCING. 121 
 
 At length the day of departure came, the boys returned 
 to school, Claude joined Lord Rotherwood, and the New 
 Court was again in a state of tranquillity. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 DANCING. 
 " Prescribe us not our duties." 
 
 " "Well, Phyllis," said her father, as he passed through the 
 hall to mount his horse, " how do you like the prospect of 
 Monsieur le Roi's instructions ? " 
 
 " Not at all, papa," answered Phyllis, running out to the 
 hall door, to pat the horse, and give it a piece of bread. 
 
 " Take care you turn out your toes," said Mr. Mohun. 
 " You must learn to dance like a dragon before cousin 
 Rotherwood's birth-day next year." 
 
 " Papa, how do dragons dance ? " 
 
 " That is a question I must decide at my leisure," said 
 Mr. Mohun, mounting. "Stand out of the way, Phyl, or 
 you will feel how horses dance." 
 
 Away he rode, while Phyllis turned with unwilling 
 steps to the nursery, to be dressed for her first dancing 
 lesson ; Marianne Weston was to learn with her, and this 
 was some consolation, but Phyllis could not share in the 
 satisfaction Adeline felt in the arrival of Monsieur le Roi. 
 Jane was also a pupil, but Lily, whose recollections of her 
 own dancing days were not agreeable, absented herself 
 entirely from the dancing-room, even though Alethea 
 Weston had come with her sister. 
 6 
 
122 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCKOFT. 
 
 Poor Phyllis danced as awkwardly as was expected; 
 but Adeline seemed likely to he a pupil in wtom a master 
 might rejoice; Marianne was very attentive, and not 
 ungraceful, but Alethea soon saw reason to regret the 
 arrangement that had been made, for she perceived that 
 Jane considered the master a fair subject for derision, and 
 her " nods and becks, and wreathed smiles" called up cor- 
 responding looks on Marianne's face. 
 
 " Brownie, you are a naughty thing ! " said Emily, 
 as soon as M. le Eoi had departed. 
 
 " He really was irresistible ! " said Jane. 
 
 " I suppose ridicule is one of the disagreeables to which 
 a dancing-master makes up his mind," said Alethea. 
 
 " Yes," said Jane, " one can have no compunction in 
 quizzing that species." 
 
 " I do not think I can quite say that, Jane," said Miss 
 Weston. 
 
 " This man especially lays himself open to ridicule," 
 said Jane ; " do you know, Alethea, that he is an English- 
 man, and his name is King, only he calls himself Le Eoi, 
 and speaks broken English ! " 
 
 Though Alethea joined in the general laugh, she did 
 not feel quite satisfied ; she feared that if not checked in 
 time, Jane would proceed to actual impertinence, and that 
 Marianne would be tempted to follow her example, but she 
 did not like to interfere, and only advised Marianne to be 
 on her guard, hoping that Emily would also speak seriously 
 to her sister. 
 
 On the next occasion, however, Jane ventured still fur- 
 ther; her grimaces were almost irresistible, and she had a 
 most comical manner of imitating the master's attitudes, 
 when his eye was not upon her, and putting on a demuro 
 
DANCING. 123 
 
 countenance when he turned towards her, which sorely 
 tried Marianne. 
 
 " What shall I do, Alethea ? " said the little girl, as 
 the sisters walked home together; "I do not know how to 
 help laughing, if Jane will be so very funny." 
 
 " I am afraid we must ask Mamma to let us give up 
 the dancing," replied Alethea, " the temptation is almost 
 too strong, and I do not think she would wish to expose 
 you to it." 
 
 " But, Alethea, why do not you speak to Jane ? " asked 
 Marianne; "no one seems to tell her it is wrong ; Miss 
 Mohun was almost laughing.' 
 
 " I do not think Jane would consider that I ousht to 
 find fault with her," said Alethea. 
 
 " But you would not scold her," urged Marianne, 
 " only put her in min^ that it is not right, not kind, that 
 Blonsieur le Roi is in authority over her for the time." 
 
 " I will speak to Mamma," said Alethea, " perhaps it 
 v,ill be better next time." 
 
 And it was better, for Mr. Mohun happening to be at 
 home, was dragged into the dancing-room by Emily and 
 Ada. Once, when she thought he was looking another 
 way, Jane tried to raise a smile, but a stern " Jane, what 
 are you thinking of ? " recalled her to order, and when the 
 lesson was over, her father spoke gravely to her, telling her 
 that he thought few things more disgusting in a young lady 
 than impertinence towards her teachers, and then added, 
 " Miss Weston, I hope you keep strict watch over these 
 giddy young things." 
 
 Awed by her father, Jane behaved tolerably at that 
 time and the next, and Miss Weston hoped her interference 
 would not be needed, but as if to make up for this re- 
 straint, her conduct a fortnight after was quite beyond 
 
124 EIOHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 bearing. She used every means to make Marianne laugt, 
 and at last went so far as to pretend to think that M. le 
 Eoi had not understood wtat she said in English, and to 
 translate it into French. Poor Marianne looked implor- 
 ingly at her sister, and Alethea hoped that Emily would 
 interpose, but Emily was turning away ber head to conceal 
 a laugh, and Miss Weston was obliged to give Jane a very 
 grave look, which she perfectly understood, though she 
 pretended not to see it. When the exercise was over, 
 Miss Weston made her a sign to approach, and said, 
 " Jane, do you think your papa would have liked — " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " said Jane; "I have not been 
 laughing." 
 
 "You know what I mean," said Alethea, "and pray do 
 not be displeased if I ask you not to make it difficult for 
 Marianne to behave properly." 
 
 Jane drew up her head and went back to her place. 
 She played no more tricks that day, but as soon as the 
 guests were gone, began telling Lilias how Miss Weston 
 had been meddling and scolding her. 
 
 " And well you must have deserved it," said Lily. 
 
 " I do not say that Jenny was right," said Emily, " but 
 I think Miss Weston might allow me to correct my own 
 sister in my own house." 
 
 " You correct Jane ! " cried Lily, and Jane laughed. 
 
 " I only mean," said Emily, " that it was not very 
 polite, and Papa says, the closest friendship is no reason for 
 dispensing with the rules of politeness." 
 
 "Certainly not," said Lily, "the rules of politeness are 
 rules of love, and it was in love that Alethea spoke ; she 
 sees how sadly we are left to ourselves, and is kind enough 
 to speak a word in season." 
 
 " Perhaps," said Jane, " since it was in love that aha 
 
DANCING. 12S 
 
 spoke, you would like to have her for our reprover for ever, 
 and I can assure you more unlikely things have happened. 
 I have heard it from one who can judge." 
 
 " Let me hear no more of this," said Emily, " it is pre- 
 posterous and ridiculous, and very disrespectful to Papa." 
 
 Jane, for once, rather shocked at her own words, went 
 hack to what had been said just before. 
 
 " Then, perhaps, you would like to have Eleanor back 
 again?" 
 
 " I am sure you want some one to put you in mind of 
 your duty," said Lily. 
 
 " Eleanor and duty ! " cried Emily ; " you who thought 
 so much of the power of love ! " 
 
 " Of Emily and love, she would say, if it sounded 
 well," said Jane. 
 
 " I cannot see what true love you or Jane are showing 
 now," said Lily, " it is no kindness to encourage her pcrt- 
 ness, or to throw away a friendly reproof because it offends 
 your pride." 
 
 "Nobody reproved me," replied Emily, "besides, I 
 know love will prevail ; for my sake Jane will not expose 
 herself and me to a stranger's interference." 
 
 "If you depend upon that, I wish you joy," said Lilias, 
 as she left the room. 
 
 " What a weathercock Lily is ! " cried Jane, " she has 
 fallen in love with Alethea Weston, and echoes all she 
 says." 
 
 "Not considering her own inconsistency," said Emily. 
 " That Alethea Weston," exclaimed Jane, in an angry 
 tone ; but Emily beginning to recover some sense of pro- 
 priety said, " Jenny, you know you were very ill-bred, and 
 you made it diflScult for the little ones to behave well." 
 " Not our own little ones," said Jane, " honest Phyl did 
 
126 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 not understand tlie joke, and Ada was thinking of her atti. 
 tudes ; one comfort is, that I shall be eoniirmed in three 
 weeks' time, and then people cannot treat me as a mere 
 child — little as I am." 
 
 " ! Jane," said Emily, " I do not like to hear you 
 talk of Confirmation in that light way." 
 
 " No, no," said Jane, " I do not mean it — of course I 
 do not mean it — don't look shocked — it was only by the 
 bye — and another by the bye, Emily, you know I must 
 have a cap and white ribbons, and I am afraid I must make 
 it myself." 
 
 "Aye, that is the worst of having Esther," said Emily, 
 "she and Hannah have no notion of anything but the 
 plainest work; I am sure if I had thought of all the 
 trouble of that kind which having a young girl would 
 entail, I would never have consented to Esther's coming." 
 
 " That was entirely Lily's scheme," said Jane. 
 
 " Yes ; it is impossible to resist Lily, she is so eager and 
 anxious, and it would have vezed her very much if I had 
 opposed her, and that I cannot bear, besides, Esther is a 
 very nice girl, and will learn." 
 
 " There is Eobert talking to Papa on the green," said 
 Jane; "what a deep conference; what can it be about?" 
 
 If Jane had heard that conversation, she might have 
 perceived that she could not wilfully offend, even in what 
 she thought a trifling matter, without making it evident, 
 even to others, that there was something very wrong about 
 her. At that moment the Rector was saying to his Uncle, 
 " I am in doubt about Jane, I cannot but fear she is not in 
 a satisfactory state for Confirmation, and I wished to ask 
 you what you think ? " 
 
 " Act just as you would with any of the village girls," 
 Baid Mr. Mohun. 
 
DANCING. 127 
 
 " I stould be very sorry to do otherwise," said Mr. 
 Devercux; "but I tbougbt you might like, since every one 
 knows that she is a candidate, that she should not be at 
 home at the time of the Confirmation, if it is necessary to 
 refuse her." 
 
 " No,'' said Mr. Mohun, " I should not wish to shield her 
 from the disgrace. It may be useful to her, and besides, it 
 will establish your character for impartiality. I have not 
 been satisfied with all I saw of little Jane, for some time 
 past, and I am afraid that inuch passes amongst my poor 
 girls which never comes to my knowledge. Her pertness, 
 especially, is probably restrained in my presence.'' 
 
 " It is not so much the pertness that I complain of," 
 said Mr. Devereux, "for that might be merely exuberance 
 of spirits, but there is a sort of habitual irreverence, which 
 makes one dread to bring her nearer to sacred things.'' 
 
 "I know what you mean," said Mr. Mohun, "and I 
 think the pertness is a branch of it, more noticed because 
 more inconvenient to others." 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Devereux, " I think the fault I speak 
 of is most evident ; when there is occasion to reprove her, 
 I am always baiSed by a kind of levity which makes every 
 warning glance aside." 
 
 " Then I should decidedly say, refuse her," said Mr. 
 Mohun. " It would be a warning that she could not disi'o- 
 gard, and the best chance of improving her." 
 
 " Yet,'' said Mr. Devereux, " if she is eager for Confir- 
 mation, and regards it in its proper light, it is hard to say 
 whether it is right to deny it to her, it may give her the 
 depth and earnestness which she needs." 
 
 " Poor child," said Mr. Mohun, " she has great disad- 
 vantages, I am quite sure our present system is not fit for 
 her. Things shall be placed on a difi'erent footing, and in 
 
128 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 another year or two, I hope she may be fitter for Confirma- 
 tion. However, before you finally decide, I should wish to 
 have some conversation with her, and speak to you again." 
 " That is just what I wish," said Mr. Devereux. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE FEVBB. 
 
 "Jane borro wed maxims from a doubting scliool, 
 And took for truth the test of ridicule." 
 
 TuE question of Jane's Confirmation was decided in an 
 unespected manner ; for the day after Mr. Mohun's conver- 
 sation with his nephew, she was attacked by a headache 
 and sore throat, spent a feverish night, and in the morning 
 was so unwell, that a medical man was sent for from Eayn- 
 ham. On his arrival, he pronounced that she was suffering 
 from scarlet fever, and Emily began to feel the approach of 
 the same complaint. 
 
 Phyllis and Adeline were shut up in the drawing-room, 
 and a system of quarantine established, which was happily 
 brought to a conclusion by a note from Mrs. Weston, who 
 kindly begged that they might be sent to her at Broomhill, 
 and Mr. Mohun gladly availing himself of the offer, the 
 little girls set off, so well pleased to make a visit alone, as 
 almost to forget the occasion of it. Mrs. Weston had 
 extended her invitation to Lilias, but she begged to be 
 allowed to remain with her sisters, and Mr. Mohun thought 
 that she had been already so much exposed to the infection, 
 that it was useless for her to take any precautions. 
 
THE FEVER. 129 
 
 She was therefore declared head nurse ; and it was well 
 that she had an energetic spirit, and so sweet a temper, that 
 she was ready to sympathize with all Emily's petulant com- 
 plaints, and even to find fault with herself for not being in 
 two places at once. Two of the maids were ill, and the 
 whole care of Emily and Jane devolved upon her, with only 
 the assistance of Esther. 
 
 Emily was not very seriously ill, but Jane's fever was 
 very high, and Lily thought that her father was more anx- 
 ious than he chose to appear. Of Jane's own thoughts, 
 little could be guessed ; she was often delirious, and at all 
 times speaking was so painful, that she said as little as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 Lily's troubles seemed at their height one Sunday after- 
 noon, while her father was at Church. She had been read- 
 ing the Psalms and Lessons to Emily, and she then rose to 
 return to Jane. 
 
 " Do not go," entreated Emily. 
 
 " I will send Esther." 
 
 " Esther is of no use.'' 
 
 " And therefore 1 do not like to leave her so long alone 
 with Jane. Pray spare me a little while." 
 
 " Then come back soon." 
 
 Lily was glad to escape with no more objections. She 
 found Jane complaining of thirst, but to swallow gave her 
 great pain, and she rec[uired so much attendance for some 
 little time, that Emily's beU was twice rung before Esther 
 could be spared to go to her. 
 
 She soon came back, saying, " Miss Mohun wants you 
 directly, Miss Lilias." 
 
 " Tell her I will come presently," said Lily, who had 
 one hand pressed on Jane's burning temples, while the 
 other was sprinkling her with ether. 
 6* 
 
130 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEEOHCKOFT. 
 
 " Stay," said Jane, faintly, and Esther left the room 
 Jane drew her breath with so much difficulty, that a dread 
 ful terror seized upon Lily, lest she should be suffocated. 
 She raised her head, and supported her till Esther could 
 bring more pillows. Esther brought a message from Emily, 
 to hasten her return ; but Jane could not be left, and the 
 grateful loot she gave her as she arranged the pillows, 
 repaid her for all her toils. After a little time, Jane 
 became more comfortable, and said in a whisper, " Dear 
 Lily, I wish I was not so troublesome." 
 
 Back came Esther at this moment, saying, " Miss Emily 
 says she is worse, and wants you directly. Miss Lilias." 
 
 Lily hurried away to Emily's room, and found what 
 might well have tried her temper. Emily was flushed 
 indeed, and feverish, but her breathing was smooth and 
 even, and her hand and pulse cool and slow, compared with 
 the parched burning hands, and throbbings, too quick to 
 count, which Lily had just been watching. 
 
 " WeU, my dear Emily, I am sorry you do not feel bet- 
 ter, what can I do for you ? " 
 
 " How can I be better, while I am left so long, and 
 Esther not coming when I ring ? What would happen if 
 I were to faint away ? " 
 
 " Indeed I am very sorry" said Lily; "but when you 
 rang, poor Jenny could spare neither of us." 
 
 " How is poor Jenny ? " said Emily. 
 
 " Her throat is very bad, but she is quite sensible now, 
 and wishes to have me there. What did you want, Emily ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I wish you would draw the curtain, the light 
 hurts me, that will do — no — ^now it is worse, pray put it as 
 it was before. Oh ! Lily, if you knew how ill I am, you 
 would not leave me." 
 
THE FEVEK. 131 
 
 " Can I do any thing for you — will you ha\ e soma 
 coffee ? " 
 
 " Oh ! no, it has a bad taste, I am sure it is carelessly 
 made." 
 
 " Shall I make you some fresh with the spirit lamp ? " 
 
 " No, I am tired of it. I wonder if I might have some 
 tamarinds." 
 
 " I will ask as soon as Papa comes from Church." 
 
 " Is he gone to Church, how could he go when we are 
 all so ill?" 
 
 " Perhaps he was doing us more good at Church than 
 he could at home. You will be glad to hear, Emily, that 
 he has sent for Kachel to come and help us." 
 
 " Oh ! has he ? but she lives so far off, and gets her 
 letters so seldom, I don't reckon at all upon her coming. 
 If she could come directly, it would be a comfort." 
 
 " It would indeed," said Lily ; " she would know what 
 to do for Jane." 
 
 " Lily, where is the ether ? You are always taking it 
 away." 
 
 " In Jane's room ; I will fetch it." 
 
 " No, no ! if you once get into Jane's room, I shall 
 never see you back again." 
 
 Now Emily knew that Jane was very ill, and Lily's 
 pale cheeks, heavy eyes, and failing voice, might have 
 reminded her that two sick persons were a heavy charge 
 upon a girl of seventeen, without the addition of her 
 caprices and fretfulness. And how was it that the kind- 
 hearted, affectionate Emily never thought of all this ? It 
 was because she had been giving way to selfishness for 
 nineteen years; and now, the contemplation of her own 
 Bufferings was quite enough to hide from her that others 
 had much to bear; and illness, instead of teaching her 
 
132 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECUCROFT. 
 
 patience and consideration, only made her more exacting 
 and qnerulous. 
 
 To Lily's unspeakable relief, Miss Weston accompanied 
 Mr. Mohun from Church, and offered to share her attend- 
 ance. No one knew what it cost Alethea to come into the 
 midst of a scene which constantly reminded her of the sis- 
 ters she had lost, but she did not shrink from it, and was 
 glad that her parents saw no objection to her offering to 
 share Lily's toils. Her experience was most valuable, and 
 relieved Lilias of the fear, that was continually haunting 
 her, lest her ignorance might lead to some fatal mistake. 
 The next day brought Kachel, and both patients began to 
 mend. Jane's recovery was quicker than Emily's, for her 
 constitution was not so languid, and having no pleasure in 
 the importance of being an invalid, she was willing to exert 
 herself, and make the best of every thing, while Emily did 
 not much like to be told that she was better, and thought 
 it cruel to hint that exertion would benefit her. Both were 
 convalescent before the fever attacked Lily, who was 
 severely ill, but not alaxmingly go, and her gentleness and 
 patience made Alethea delight in having the care of her. 
 Lily was full of gratitude to her kind friend, and felt quite 
 happy when Alethea chanced one day to call her by the 
 name of Emma ; she almost hoped she was taking the place 
 of that sister, and the thought cheered her through many 
 languid hours, and gave double value to all Alethea's kind- 
 ness. She did not feel disposed to repine at an illness 
 which brought out such affection from her friend, and still 
 more from her father, who, when he came to see her would 
 say things which gave her a thrill of pleasure whenever she 
 thought of them. 
 
 It happened one day, that Jane, having finished her 
 book, looked round for some other occupation ; she knew 
 
THE FEVER. 133 
 
 tLat Miss Weston Lad walked to Broomliill ; Eacliel was 
 with Liliaa, and there was no amusement at hand. At last 
 she recollected that her Papa had said in the morning, that 
 he hoped to see her and EmUy in the school-room, in the 
 course of the day, and hoping to meet her sister, she 
 resolved to try and get there. The room had been Ms. 
 Mohun's sitting room since the beginning of their illness, 
 and it looked so very comfortable, that she was glad she 
 had come, though she was so tired she wondered how she 
 should get back again. Emily was not there, so she lay 
 down on a sofa and took up a little book from the table. 
 The title was " Susan Harvey, or Confirmation," and she 
 read it with more interest as she remembered with a pang, 
 that this was the day of the Confirmation, to which she had 
 been invited ; she soon found herself shedding tears over 
 the book ; she who had never yet been known to cry at 
 any story, however affecting. She had not finished, wheu 
 Mr. Devereux came in to look for Mr. Mohun, and finding 
 her there, was going away as soon as he had congratulated 
 her on having left her room, but she begged him to stay, 
 and began asking questions about the Confirmation. 
 
 " Were there many people ? " 
 
 " Three hundred." 
 
 " Did the Stony-bridge people make a disturbance ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " How many of our people ? " 
 
 " Twenty-seven." 
 
 " Did all the girls wear caps ? " 
 
 " Most of them." 
 
 Jane was rather surprised at the shortness of her 
 cousin's answers, but she went on, as he stood before the 
 fire, appearently in deep thought. 
 
 " Was Miss Burnet confirmed ? She is the dullest girl 
 
134 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHOROFT. 
 
 I ever knew, and she is older than I am. Was slie con- 
 fused?" 
 
 " She was." 
 
 " Did you give Mary Wright a ticket ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then of course you did not give one to Ned Long. I 
 thought you would never succeed in making him remember 
 which is the ninth commandment." 
 
 " I did not' refuse him." 
 
 " Indeed ! did he improve in a portentous manner ? " 
 
 " Not particularly." 
 
 " Well, you must have been more merciful than I 
 expected." 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 " Kobgrt, you must have lost the use of your tongue, 
 for want of us to talk to. I shall be afironted if you go 
 into a brown study the first day of seeing me." 
 
 He smiled in a constrained manner, and after a few 
 minutes said, " I have been considering whether this is a fit 
 time to tell you what will give you pain. You must tell 
 me if you can bear it." 
 
 " About Lily, or the little ones? " 
 
 " No, no ! only about yourself. Your father wished mo 
 to speak to you, but I would not have done so on this first 
 meeting, but what you have just been saying makes me 
 think this is the best occasion." 
 
 " Let me know ; I do not like suspense," said Jane, 
 sharply. 
 
 " I think it right to tell you, Jane, that neither your 
 father nor I thought it would be desirable for you to bo 
 sonfirmed at this time." 
 
 " Do you really mean it ? " said Jane. 
 
THB FEVEE. 135 
 
 " Look back on the past year, and say if you sincerely 
 think you are fit for Confirmation." 
 
 " As to that," said Jane, " the best people are always 
 saying that they are not fit for these things." 
 
 " None can call themselves worthy of them ; but I 
 think the conscience of some would bear them witness that 
 they had profited so far by their present means of grace, 
 as to give grounds for hoping that they would derive benefit 
 from further assistance." 
 
 " Well, I suppose I must be very bad, since you see it," 
 said Jane, in a manner rather more subdued ; " but I did 
 not think myself worse than other people." 
 
 " Is a Christian called, only to be no worse than 
 others ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! I see, I mean — pray tell me my great fault. 
 Pcrtness, I suppose — love of gossip ? " 
 
 " There must be a deeper root of evil, of which these 
 are but the visible effects, Jane." 
 
 " What do you mean, Eobert ? " said Jane, now seem- 
 ing really impressed. 
 
 " I think, Jane, that the greatest and most dangerous 
 fault of your character is, want of reverence. I think it 
 is want of reverence which makes you press forward to 
 that for which you confess yourself unfit ; it is want of 
 reverence for holiness which makes you not care to attain 
 it ; want of reverence for the Holy Word, that makes you 
 treat it as a mere lesson, and in smaller matters, your pert- 
 ncss is want of reverence for your superiors ; you would 
 not be ready to believe and to say the worst of others if 
 you reverenced what good there may be in them. Take 
 care that your want of reverence is not in reality want 
 of faith." 
 
 Jane's spirits were weak and subdued. It was a great 
 
136 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECIICROFT. 
 
 «liook to her to Lear that she was not thought worthy of 
 Confirmation ; her faults had never been called by so hard 
 a name ; she was in part humbled, and in part grieved, at 
 what she thought harshness in her cousin ; she turned away 
 her face, and did not speak. lie continued, '- Jane, you 
 must not think me unkind, your father desired me to talk 
 to you, and indeed, the time of recovery from sickness is 
 too precious to be trifled awaj^" 
 
 Jane wept bitterly. Presently he said, " It grieves me 
 to have been obliged to speak harshly to you, you must for- 
 give me if I have talked too much to you, Jane." 
 
 Jane tried to speak, but sobs prevented her, and she 
 gave way to a violent fit of crying. Her cousin feared he 
 had been unwise in saying so much, and had weakened the 
 effect of his own words. He would have been glad to sec 
 tears of repentance, but he was afraid that she was weeping 
 over fancied unkindness, and that he might have done what 
 might be hurtful to her in her weak state. He said a few 
 kind words and tried to console her, but this change of tone 
 rather added to her distress, and she became hysterical. 
 He was much \exed -and alarmed, and, ringing the bell, 
 hastened to call assistance. He found p]^ther, and seut her 
 to Jane, and on returning to the school-room with some 
 water, he found her lying exhausted on the sofa, he there- 
 fore went m search of his uncle, who was overlooking some 
 farming work, and many were the apologies he made, and 
 many the assurances he received that it would be better 
 for her in the end, as the impression would be more last- 
 ing. 
 
 Jane was scarcely conscious of her cousin's departure, 
 or of Esther's arrival, but after drinking some water, and 
 lying still for a few moments, she exclaimed, " Oh, Robert ! 
 Oh, Esther ! the Confirmation ? " and gasped and sobbed 
 
THE FEVER. 137 
 
 again, Esther tliouglit she had guessed the caijse of her 
 tears, and tried to comfort her. 
 
 " Ah ! Miss Jane, there will be another Confirmation 
 some day, it was a sad pity you were too ill, to be sure, 
 but—" 
 
 " Oh ! if I had — ^if he would not say — if he had 
 thought me fit." 
 
 Esther was amazed, and asked if she should call Miss 
 Weston, who was now with LUias. 
 
 _ " No, no ! " cried Jane, nearly relapsing into hysterics. 
 " She shall not see me in this state." 
 
 Esther hardly knew what to do, but she tried to soothe 
 and comfort her, by following what was evidently the feel- 
 ing predominating in Jane's mind, as indicated by her 
 broken sentences, and said, " It was a pity, to bo sure, that 
 Mr. Devereux came and talked so long, he could not know 
 of your being so very weak. Miss Jane." 
 
 " Yes," said Jane, faintly, " I could have borne it bet- 
 ter if he had waited a few days." 
 
 " Yes, Miss, whep you had not been so very ill. Mr. 
 Devereux is a very good gentleman, but they do say he ia 
 very sharp." 
 
 " He means to be kind," said Jane, " but I do not think 
 he has much consideration, always." 
 
 " Yes, Miss Jane, that is just what Mrs. White said, 
 when — " 
 
 Esther's speech was cut short by the entrance of Miss 
 Weston. Jane started up, dashed off her tears, and tried 
 to look as usual, but the paleness of her face, and the red- 
 ness of her eyes made this impossible, and she was obliged 
 to lie down again. Esther left the room, and Miss Weston 
 did not feel intimate enough with Jane, to ask any ques- 
 tions ; she gave her some sal volatile, talked kindly to hef 
 
138 EIGnTEEN MONTHS AT EEECHCROFT. 
 
 of her weakness, and offered to read to her ; all the time 
 leaving an opening for confidence, if Jane wished to relieve 
 her mind. The book which lay near her accounted, as she 
 thought, for her agitation, and she blamed herself for hav- 
 ing judged her harshly as deficient in feeling, now that she 
 found her so much distressed, because illness had prevented 
 her Confirmation. Under this impression, she honoured 
 her reserve, while she thought with more affection of Lily's 
 open heart. Jane, who never took, or expected others to 
 take, the most favourable view of people's motives, thought 
 Alethea knew the cause of her distress, and disliked her 
 the more, as having witnessed her humiliation. 
 
 Such was Jane's love of gossip, that the next time she 
 was alone with Esther, she asked for the history of Mrs. 
 "White, thus teaching her maid disrespect to her Pastor, 
 indirectly complaining of his unkindness, and going far to 
 annul the effect of what she had learnt at school. Perhaps, 
 during her hysterics, Jane's conduct was not under her con- 
 trol, but subsequent silence was in her power, and could she 
 be free from blame if Esther's faults gained greater ascend- 
 ancy ? 
 
 The next day, Mr. Mohun attempted to speak to Jane, 
 but being both frightened and unhappy, she found it very 
 easy and natural, as well as very convenient, to fall into 
 hysterics again, and her father was obliged to desist, regret- 
 ting that at the only time she was subdued enough to listen 
 to reproof, she was too weak to bear it without injury. 
 Rachel, who was nearly as despotic among the young ladies 
 as she had been in former times in the nursery, now insisted 
 on Emily's going into the school-room, and when there, she 
 made rapid progress. Alethea was amused to see how 
 Jane's decided will and lively spirit, would induce Emily 
 
THE FEVER. 139 
 
 to mate exertions, whicb no persuasion of hers could make 
 her think other than impossible. 
 
 A few days more, and they were nearly well again ; and 
 Lilias so far recovered as to be able to spare her kind 
 friend, who returned home with a double portion of Lily's 
 love, and of deep gratitude from Mr. Mohun ; but these 
 feelings were scarcely expressed in words. Emily gave her 
 some graceful thanks, and Jane disliked her more than 
 ever. 
 
 It was rather a dreary time that now commenced with 
 the young ladies ; they were tired of seeing the same faces 
 continually, and dispirited by hearing that the fever was 
 spreading in the village. The autumn was far advanced, 
 the weather was damp and gloomy, and the sisters sat 
 round the fire shiverLag with cold, feeling the large room 
 dreary and deserted, missing the merry voices of the chil- 
 dren, and much tormented by want of occupation. They 
 could not go out, their hands were not steady enough to 
 draw, they felt every letter which they had to write a 
 heavy burden ; neither Emily nor Lily could like needle- 
 work ; they could have no music, for the piano at the other 
 end of the room seemed to be in an Arctic Region, and 
 they did little but read novels and childish stories, and 
 play at chess or backgammon. Jane was the best oflF. 
 Mrs. Weston sent her a little sock, with a request that she 
 would make out the way in which it was knit, in a, compli- 
 cated feathery pattern, and in puzzling over her cotton, 
 taking stitches up and letting them down, she made the 
 tune nass a little less heavily with her, than with her 
 sisters. 
 
140 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A CHRIOSITY TEAP. 
 
 " Keek into the draw-well, 
 
 Janet, Janet, 
 There ye 11 see your bonny sell, 
 My jo Janet." 
 
 It was at this time tliat Lady Eotherwood and her 
 daughter arrived at Devereux Castle, and Mr. Mohun was 
 obliged to go to meet her there, leaving his three daughters 
 to spend a long winter evening by themselves, in their 
 doleful and d'ismal way, as Lily called it. 
 
 The evening had closed in, but they did not ring for 
 candles, lest they should make it seem longer : and Jane 
 was just beginning to laugh at Emily for the deplorable 
 state of her frock and collar, tumbled with lying on the 
 sofa, when the three girls all started at the unexpected 
 sound of a ring at the front door. 
 
 With a rapid and joyful suspicion who it might be, 
 Emily and Lilias sprang to the door, Jane thrust the poker 
 into the fire, in a desperate attempt to produce a flame, 
 drove an arm chair off the hearth-rug, whisked an old shawl 
 out of sight, and flew after them into the hall, just as the 
 deep tones of a well-known voice were heard greeting old 
 Joseph. 
 
 " William ! " cried the girls. " Oh ! is it you ? Are 
 you not afraid of the scarlet fever ? " 
 
 " No, who has it ? " 
 
 " We have had it, but we are quite well now. How 
 cold you arc ! " 
 
A CUHIOSITY TRAP. 141 
 
 " But where is my father ? " 
 
 " Gone to Hetherington with Robert, to meet aunt 
 Rotherwood. Come into the drawing-room." 
 
 Hero Emily glided off to perform a hurried toilette. 
 
 " And the little ones ? " 
 
 " At Broomhill. Mrs. Weston was so kind as to taka 
 them out of the way of the infection," said Lily. 
 
 " Oh ! "William, those Westons ! " 
 
 " Westons, what Westons ? Not those I knew at 
 Brighton ? " 
 
 " The very same," said Lily. " They have taken the 
 house at BroomhiU. Oh ! they have been so very kind, I 
 do not know what would have become of us without 
 Alethea." 
 
 " Why did you not tell me they were living here ? 
 And you like them ? " 
 
 " Like them 1 No one can tell the comfort Alethea has 
 been. She came to us and nursed us, and has been my 
 great support." 
 
 " And Phyllis and Ada are with them ? " 
 
 " Yes, they have been at Broomhill these six weeks and 
 more." 
 
 Here Emily came in and told William that his room 
 was ready, and Rachel on the stairs wishing to see the 
 Captain. 
 
 " How well he looks ! " cried Lily, as he closed the 
 door ; " it is quite refreshing to see any one looking so 
 strong and bright." 
 
 " And more like Sir Maurice than ever," said Emily. 
 
 " Ah ! but Claude is more like," said Lily, " because he 
 is pale." 
 
 " Well," said Jane, " do let us in the mean time make 
 the room look more fit to be seen before he comes down." 
 
14-2 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 The alacrity whicli had long been wanting to Lilias and 
 Jane, had suddenly returned, and they succeeded in making 
 the room look surprisingly comfortable, compared with its 
 former desolate aspect, before William came down, and 
 renewed his inquiries after all the family. 
 
 " And how is my father's deafness ? " was one of his 
 questions. 
 
 " Worse," said Emily. " I am afraid all the younger 
 ones will learn to vociferate. He hears no one well but 
 ourselves." 
 
 " Oh ! and Alethea Weston," said Lily. " Her voice 
 is so clear and distinct, that she hardly ever raises it to 
 make him hear. And have you ever heard her sing ? " 
 
 " Yes, she sings very well. I cannot think why you 
 never told me they were living here." 
 
 " Because you never honour us with your correspond- 
 ence," said Emily ; " if you had vouchsafed to write to 
 your sisters, you could not have escaped hearing of the 
 Westons." 
 
 " And has Mr. Weston given up the Law ? " 
 
 " No, he only came here in the vacation," said Emily. 
 " Did you know they had lost two daughters? " 
 
 " I saw it in the paper. Emma and Lucy were nice 
 girls, but not equal to Miss Weston. What a shock to 
 Mrs. Weston ! " 
 
 "Yes, she quite lost her health, and the doctors said 
 she must move into the country directly. Mrs. Carrington, 
 who is some distant connexion, told them of this place, and 
 they took it rather hastily." 
 
 "Do they like it?" 
 
 " Oh, yes! very much," said Emily. "Mrs. Weston is 
 very fond of the garden, and drives about in the pony- 
 
A CURIOSITY Tit A P. 143 
 
 carriage, and it is quite pleasant to see how slie admires 
 the views." 
 
 " And," added Lily, " Alethea walks with us, and sings 
 with me, and teaches at school, and knows all the poor, 
 people." 
 
 " I must go and see those children to-morrow," said 
 William. 
 
 The evening passed very pleasantly; and perhaps in 
 truth. Captain Mohun and his sisters were surprised to find 
 each other so agreeable, for in the eyes of the young ladies, 
 he was by far the most awful person in the family. 
 
 When he had been last at home, Harry's recent death 
 had thrown a gloom over the whole family, and he had es- 
 pecially missed him. Himself quick, sensible, clever, and 
 active, he was intolerant of opposite qualities, and the 
 principal effect of that visit to Beechcroft was to make all 
 the younger ones afraid of him ; to discourage poor Claude, 
 and to give to himself a gloomy remembrance of that homo 
 which had lost its principal charms in his mother and 
 Harry. 
 
 He had now come home rather from a sense of duty, 
 than an expectation of pleasure, and he was quite surprised 
 to find how much more attractive the New Court had be- 
 come. Emily and Lilias were now conversible and intelli- 
 gent companions, better suited to him than Eleanor had 
 ever been, and he had himself in these four years acquired 
 a degree of gentleness and consideration, which prevented 
 him from appearing so unapproachable as in days of old. 
 This was especially the case with regard to Claude, whose 
 sensitive and rather timid nature had in his childhood suf- 
 fered much from William's boyish attempts to make hipi 
 manly, and as he grew older, had almost felt himself de- 
 
144 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BBECHCEOFT. 
 
 Bpised ; but now William appreciated his noble qualities 
 and was anxious to make amends for former unkind 
 ness. 
 
 Claude came home from Oxford, not actually ill, but ir 
 the ailing condition in which he often was, just weak enough 
 to give his sisters a fair excuse for waiting upon him, and 
 petting him all day long. About the same time Phyllis 
 and Adeline came back from BroomhUl, and there was 
 great joy at the New Court at the news that Mrs. Hawkes- 
 worth was the happy mother of a little boy. 
 
 Claude was much pleased by being asked by Eleanor 
 to be godfather to his little nephew, whose name was to be 
 Henry. Perhaps he hoped, what Lilias was quite sure of, 
 that Eleanor did not think him unworthy to stand in 
 Harry's place. 
 
 The choice of the other sponsors did not meet with 
 universal approbation. Emily thought it'rather hard that 
 Mr. Hawkesworth's sister Mrs. Ridley should have been 
 chosen before herself, and both she and Ada would havD 
 greatly preferred either Lord Kotherwood, Mr. Devereux^ 
 or William to Sir. Ridley, while Phyllis had wonderinga 
 of her own how Claude could be godfather without being 
 present at the christening. 
 
 One evening, Claude was writing his answer to Eleanor, 
 sitting at the sofa table where a small lamp was burning. 
 Jane attracted by its bright and soft radiance, came and 
 sat down opposite to him with her work. 
 
 "What a silence!" said Lily, after about a quarter of 
 an hour. 
 
 " What made you start, Jane ? " said William. 
 
 "Did I?" said Jane. 
 
 " My speaking, I suppose,'' said Lily, " breaking the 
 awful spell of silence." 
 
A CURIOSITY TRAP. 145 
 
 " How red you look, Jane. What is the matter ? " 
 Baid William. 
 
 "Do I? " asked Jane becoming still redder. 
 
 " It is holding your face down over that baby's hood," 
 said Emily, " you will sacrifice the colour of your nose to 
 your nephew." 
 
 Claude now asked Jane for the sealing-wax, folded up 
 his letter, sealed it, put on a stamp, and as Jane was leav- 
 ing the room at bed-time, said, " Jenny, my dear, as you go 
 by, just put that letter in the post bag." 
 
 Jane obeyed, and left, the room. Claude soon after 
 took the letter out of the bag, went to Emily's door, lis- 
 tened to ascertain that Jane was not there, and then 
 knocked and was admitted. 
 
 " I could not help coming," said he, " to tell you of 
 the trap in which Brownie has been caught." 
 
 "Ah ! " said Lily, " I fancied I saw her peeping slyly 
 at your letter." 
 
 "Just feo," said Claude, "and I hope she has expe- 
 rienced the truth of an old proverb." 
 
 " Oh ! tell us what you have said," cried the sisters. 
 
 Claude read, " Jane desires me to say that a hood for 
 the baby shall be sent in the course of a week, and she 
 hopes that it may be worn at the Christening. I should 
 rather say I hope it may be lost in the transit, for assur- 
 edly the head that it covers must be infected with some- 
 thing far worse than the scarlet fever — the fever of curio- 
 sity, the last quality which I should like my godson to 
 possess. My only consolation is, that he will see the full 
 deformity of the vice, as, poor little fellow, he becomes 
 acquainted with ' that worst of plagues, a prying maiden 
 aunt.' If Jane was simply curious, I should not com- 
 plain, but her love of investigation is not directed to what 
 7 
 
146 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 ought to be known, but rather to find out some wretched 
 Bubject for petty scandal, to blacken every action, and to 
 add to the weight of every misdeed, and all for the sake of 
 detailing her discoveries in exchange for similar informa- 
 tion with Mrs. Appleton, or some equally suitable con- 
 fidante. 
 
 "Is that all?" said Lily. 
 
 " And enough too, I hope," said Claude. 
 
 " It ought to cure her," said Emily. 
 
 " Cure her ! " said Claude, " no such thing, cures are 
 not wrought in this way; this is only a joke, and to keep it 
 up, I will tell you a piece of news, which Jane must have 
 spied out in my letter, as I had just written it when I saw 
 her eyes in a suspicious direction. It was settled that 
 Messieurs Maurice and Eedgie are to go for two hours a 
 day, three times a week, to Mr. Stephens, during the holi- 
 days." 
 
 " The new Stony Bridge Curate ? " said Emily. 
 
 " I am very glad you are not to be bored by them,'"' 
 said Lily; " but how they will dislike it." 
 
 " It is very hard upon them," said Claude, " and I tried 
 to prevent it, but the Baron was quite determined. Now 
 I will begin to talk about this plan and see whether Jenny 
 betrays any knowledge of it." 
 
 " Oh! it will be rare! " cried Lily; " but do not speak 
 of it before the Baron or William." 
 
 " Let it be at luncheon," said Emily, " you know they 
 never appear. Do you mean to send the letter ? " 
 
 " Not that part of it," said Claude, " you see I can 
 tear off the last page, and it is only to add a new conclu- 
 sion. Good night." 
 
 Jane had certainly not spent the evening in an agreeable 
 manner; she had not taken her seat at Claude's table with 
 
A CURIOSITY TRAP. 147 
 
 any evil designs towards liis letter, but Lis writiiig was 
 clear and legible, and her eye caught the word " Maurice ; " 
 she wished to know what Claude could be saying about 
 him, and having once begun, she could not leave off, espe- 
 cially when she saw her own name. When aware of the 
 compliments he was paying her, she looked at him, but his 
 eyes were fixed on his pen, and no smile, no significant ex- 
 pression betrayed that he was aware of her observations, 
 and even when he gave her the letter to put into the post- 
 bag, he looked quite innocent and unconcerned. On the 
 other hand, she did not like to think that he had been 
 sending such a character of her to Eleanor in sober sad- 
 ness ; it was impossible to find out whether he had sent the 
 letter, she could not venture to beg him to keep it back, 
 she could only trust to his good nature. 
 
 At luncheon, as they had agreed, Lily began by asking 
 where her Papa and William were gone ? Claude answered 
 " to Stony Bridge, to call upon Mr. Stephens ; they mean 
 to ask him to dine one day next week, to be introduced to 
 Lis pupils." 
 
 " Is he an Oxford or Cambridge man ? " asked Lily. 
 
 " Oxford," exclaimed Jane, quite forgetting whence she 
 had derived her information, " he is a fellow of — " 
 
 "Indeed!" said Lily; " how do you know that ? " 
 
 " Why, we have all been talking of him lately," said 
 Jane. 
 
 "Not I," said Emily, "why should he interest us?" 
 
 "Because he is to tutor the boys," said Jane. 
 
 "When did you hear that he is to tutor the boys?" 
 asked Lily. 
 
 " When you did, I suppose," said Jane, blushing. 
 
 " You did, did you ? " said Claude, " I feel convinced, 
 if so, that you must really be what you are so often called 
 
148 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHOROFT. 
 
 a cliangeling. I heard it, or rather read it first at Oxford, 
 where the Baron desired me to make enquiries about him. 
 You were, doubtless, looking over my shoulder at the mo- 
 ment. This is quite a discovery. We shall have to per- 
 form a brewery of egg shells this evening, and put the elf 
 to flight with a red hot poker, and what a diff'erent sister 
 Jane we shall recover, instead of this little mischief-mak- 
 ing sprite, so quiet, so reserved, never intruding her 
 opinion, showing constant deference to all her superiors — 
 yes, and to her inferiors, shutting her eyes to the faults 
 of others, and when they come before her, trying to shield 
 the offender from those who regard them as merely esciting 
 news.'' 
 
 Claude's speech had become much more serious than 
 he intended, and he felt quite guilty when he had finished, 
 BO that it was not at all an undesirable interruption when 
 Phyllis and Adeline asked for the story of the brewery of 
 egg shells. 
 
 Emily and Lilias kindly avoided looking at Jane, who, 
 after fidgetting on her chair, and turning very red, suc- 
 ceeded in regaining outward composure. She resolved to 
 let the matter die away, and think no more about it. 
 
 When Mr. Mohun and William came home, they 
 brought the news that Lady Rotherwood had invited the 
 whole party to dinner. 
 
 "I am very glad we are allowed to see them," said 
 Emily, "I am quite tired of being shut up." 
 
 " If it was not for the Westons we might as well live in 
 Nova Zembla," said Jane. 
 
 " I am glad you damsels should know a little more of 
 Florence," said Mr. Mohun. 
 
 " Yes," said Claude, " cousins were made to be friends." 
 
A OURIOSITT TRAP. 149 
 
 "In tliat case one ought to be able to choose them," 
 said William. 
 
 "And know them," said Emily. " We have not seen 
 Florence since she was eleven years old." 
 
 " Cousin or not," said Lilias, " Florence can hardly be 
 so much my friend as Alethea." 
 
 "Eight, Lily," said William, " stand up for old friends 
 against all the cousins in the universe." 
 
 " Has Alethea a right to be called an old friend ? " said 
 Emily; "does three quarters of a year make friendship 
 venerable ? " 
 
 "No one can deny that she is a tried friend;" said 
 Lilias. 
 
 " But pray, good people," said Claude, "what called 
 forth those vows of eternal constancy ? why was my inno- 
 cent general observation construed into an attack upon 
 Miss Weston ? " 
 
 " Because there is something invidious in your tone," 
 said Lily. 
 
 "What kind of a girl is that Florence? " asked Wil- 
 liam. 
 
 " Oh I a nice, lively, pleasant girl," said Claude. 
 
 "I cannot make out what her pursuits are," said Lily; 
 " Rotherwood never talks of her reading any thing." 
 
 "She has been governessed and crammed till she is 
 half sick of all reading," said Claude, " of all study — aye, 
 and all accomplishments." 
 
 " So that is the friend you recommend LUy ! " said 
 William. 
 
 "Well, Claude, that is what I call a great shame," said 
 Emily. 
 
 " Stay," said Claude, " you have heard but half my story, 
 I say that this is the re-aotion. Florence has no lack of 
 
150 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEEOHCROFT. 
 
 sense, and if you young ladies are wise, you may help hei 
 to find the use of it.'' 
 
 Claude's further opinion did not transpire, as dinner 
 was announced, and nothing more was said about Lady 
 Florence, till the girls had an opportunity of judging for 
 themselves. She had a good deal of her brother's vivacity, 
 with gentleness and grace, which made her very engaging, 
 and her perfect recollection of the New Court, and of 
 childish days, charmed her cousins. Lady Kotherwood 
 was very kind and affectionate, and held out hopes of many 
 future meetings. The next day Maurice and Keginald 
 came home from school, bringing a better character for 
 diligence than usual, on which they founded hopes that the 
 holidays would be left to their own disposal. They were 
 by no means pleased with the arrangement made with Mr. 
 Stephens, and most unwillingly did they undertake the ex- 
 pedition to Stony Bridge, performing the journey in a very 
 unsociable manner. Maurice was no horseman, and chose 
 to jog on foot through three miles of lane, while Keginald's 
 pony cantered merrily along, its master's head being intent 
 upon the various winter sports in which William and Lord 
 Rotherwood allowed him to share. Little did Maurice 
 care for such diversions ; he was, as Adeline said, studying 
 another " apology.'' This time it was •phrenology, for which 
 the cropped heads of Lilias and Jane afforded unusual fa- 
 cility. There was, however, but a limited supply of heads 
 willing to be fingered, and Maurice returned to the most 
 abiding of his tastes, and in an empty room at the Old 
 Court, labored assiduously to find the secret of perpetual 
 motion. 
 
 A few days before Christmas, Rachel Harvey again 
 took leave of Beechcroft, with a promise that she would 
 make them another visit when Eleanor came home. Before 
 
CHRISTMAS. 151 
 
 Blie went, she gave Emily a useful caution, telling ber it 
 was not right to trust ber keys out of ber own possession. 
 It was what Miss Mobun never would bave done, sbe bad 
 never once committed them even to Racbel. 
 
 " AVitb due deference to Eleanor," said Emily, witb 
 ber winning smile, "we must allow tbat tbat was being 
 over cautious." 
 
 Eacbel smiled, but ber lecture was not averted by the 
 compliment. 
 
 " It migbt bave been very well since you bave known 
 me, Miss Emily, but I do not know wbat would have come 
 of it, if I bad been too much trusted, when I was a giddy 
 young thing like Esther; that girl comes of a bad lot, and 
 if any thing is to be made of her, it is by keeping tempta- 
 tion out of ber way, and not letting ber be with tbat 
 mother of hers." 
 
 Racbel bad rather injured the effect of ber advice by 
 behaving too like a mistress during her visit ; Emily bad 
 more than once wished that old servants were not privileged 
 people, and she was more offended than convinced by the 
 remonstrance. 
 
152 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 " Sice, Bla, slad, 
 
 Stuck in the mud, 
 1 it ia pretty to wade through a flood, 
 
 Come, wheel round, 
 
 The dirt we have found, 
 Would be an estate at a farthing a pound." 
 
 Lilt's illness interrupted her teaching at the village school 
 for many weeks, and she was in no great haste to resume 
 it. Alethea Weston seemed to enjoy doing all that was 
 required, and Lily left it in her hands, glad to shut her 
 eyes as much as possible to the disheartening state the 
 parish had been in ever since her former indiscretion. 
 
 The approach of Christmas, however, made it necessary 
 for her to exert herself a little more, and her interest in 
 parish matters revived as she distributed the clothing club 
 goods, and in private conference with each good dame, 
 learnt the wants of her family. But it was sad to miss 
 several names struck out of the list for non-attendance at 
 Church; and when Mrs. Eden came for her child's clothing, 
 Lily remarked that the articles she chose were unlike those 
 of former years, the cheapest and coarsest she could find. 
 
 St. Thomas's day was marked by the custom, called at 
 Beechcroft, " gooding." Each mother of a family came to 
 all the principal houses in the parish to receive sixpence, 
 towards providing a Christmas dinner, and it was Lily's 
 business to dispense this dole at the New Court. "With a 
 long' list of names and a heap of silver before her, she sat 
 
CnRISTMAS. 153 
 
 at the oaken table by the open chimney in the hall, return? 
 ing a nod or a smiling greeting to the thanks of the women 
 as they came one by one to receive the little silver coins, 
 and warm themselves by the glowing wood fire. 
 
 Pleasant as the task was at first, it ended painfully. 
 Agnes Eden appeared, in order to claim the double portion 
 allotted to her mother, as a widow. This was the first 
 time that Mrs. Eden had asked for the gooding-money, 
 and Lily knew that it was a sign that she must be in great 
 distress. Agnes made her a little curtsey, and crept away 
 again as soon as she had received her shilling; but Mrs. 
 Grey, who was Mrs. Eden's neighbor, had not quite settled 
 her penny club affairs, and remained a little longer. Au 
 unassuming and highly principled person was Mrs. Grey 
 and Lily enjoyed a talk with her, while she was waiting 
 for the purple stuff frock which Jane was measuring off 
 for Kezia. They spoke of the children, and of a few other 
 little matters, and presently something was said about 
 Mrs. Eden; Lily asked if the blacksmith helped her. 
 
 " ! no. Miss Lilias, he will do nothing for her, while 
 she sends her child to school and to Church. He will not 
 speak to her even. Not a bit of butter nor a morsel of 
 bacon has been in her house since Blichaelmas, and what 
 she would have done if it was not for Mr. Devereux and 
 Mrs. Weston, I cannot think." 
 
 Lilias, much shocked by this account of the distress 
 into which she and Jane had been the means of bringing 
 the widow, reported it to her father and to the Rector ; 
 entreating the former to excuse her rent, which he willingly 
 promised to do, and also desired his daughters to give her a 
 blanket, and tell her to come to the house whenever any 
 broth was to be given away. Mr. Devereux, who already 
 knew of her troubles, and allowed her a small sum weekly, 
 7* 
 
154 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 now told his cousins how much the Greys had assisted her. 
 Andrew Grey had dug up and housed her winter's store of 
 potatoes, he had sought work for her, and little Agnes often 
 shared the meals of his children. The Greys had a large 
 family, very young, so that all that they did for her was 
 the fruit of self-denial. Innumerable were the kindnesses 
 which they performed unknown to any but the widow and 
 her child. More by a hundred times did they assist her, 
 than the thoughtless girls who had occasioned her sufferings, 
 though Lily was not the only one who felt that nothing was 
 too much for them to do. Nothing, perhaps, would have 
 been too much, except to bear her in mind and steadily aid 
 her in little things ; but Lily took no account of little things, 
 talked away her feelings, and thus all her grand resolutions 
 produced almost nothing. Lord Eotherwood sent Mrs. 
 Eden a sovereign, the girls newly clothed little Agnes, 
 Phyllis sometimes carried her the scraps of her dinner, 
 Mrs. Eden once came to work at the New Court, and a few 
 messes of broth were given to her, but in general she was 
 forgotten, and when remembered, indolence or carelessness 
 too often prevented the Miss Mohuns from helping her. In 
 Emily's favourite phrase, each individual thing " was not 
 worth while." 
 
 When Lilias did think it " worth while," she would do 
 a great deal upon impulse, sometimes with more zeal than 
 discretion, as she proved by an expedition which she took 
 on Christmas Eve. Mr. Mohun did not allow the poor in 
 the village to depend entirely on the gooding for their 
 Christmas dinner, but on the 24th of December, a large 
 mess of excellent beef broth was prepared at the New 
 Court, and distributed to all his own labourers, and the 
 most respectable of the other cottagers. 
 
 In the course of the afternoon, Lily found that one por- 
 
CHEISTMAS. 155 
 
 tion had not been given out. It was that which was 
 intended for the Martins, a poor old rheumatic couple, who 
 lived at South End, the most distant part of the parish. 
 Neither of them could walk as far as the New Court, and 
 most of their neighbours had followed Farmer Gage, and 
 had therefore been excluded from the distribution, so that 
 there was no one to send. Lily therefore resolved herself 
 to carry the broth to them, if she could find an escort, 
 which was not an easy matter, as the frost had that morn- 
 ing broken up, and a good deal of snow and rain had been 
 falling in the course of the day. In the hall she met 
 Keginald, just turned out of Maurice's work-shop, and 
 much at ^ loss for employment. 
 
 " Eedgie," said she, " you can do me a great kindness." 
 " If it is not a bore,'"' returned Reginald. 
 " I only want you to walk with me to South End." 
 "Eh?" said Reginald; "I thought the little Misses 
 were too delicate to put their dear little proboscises outside 
 the door." 
 
 " That is the reason I ask you, I do not think Emily or 
 Jane would like it, and it is too far for Claude. Those 
 poor old Martins have not got their broth, and there is no 
 one to fetch it for them." 
 
 " Then do not be half an hour putting on your things." 
 " Thank you ; and do not run off, and make me spend 
 an hour in hunting for you, and then say that I made you 
 wait." 
 
 " I will wait fast enough. You are not as bad as 
 Emily," said Reginald, while Lily ran up stairs to equip 
 herself. When she came down, she was glad to find her 
 escort employed in singeing the end of the tail of the old 
 rocking-horse, at the fire in the hall, so that she was not 
 obliged to seek him in the drawing-room, where her plans 
 
156 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECUCROFT. 
 
 would probably have met with opposition. She had, how 
 ever, objections to answer from an unexpected quarter. 
 Reginald was much displeased when she took possession of 
 the pitcher of broth. 
 
 "I will not walk with such a thing as that," said he, 
 " it makes you look like one of the dirty girls in the vil 
 lage." 
 
 " Then you ought, like the courteous Einaldo, to carry 
 it for me," said Lily. 
 
 " I touch the nasty thing ! Faugh ! Throw it into the 
 gutter, Lily.'' 
 
 Ho made an attempt to dispose of it in that manner, 
 which it required all Lily's strength to withstand, as well 
 as an imploring " Now, Redgie, think of the poor old peo- 
 ple. Remember you have promised." 
 
 " Promised ! I never promised to walk with a greasy 
 old pitcher. What am I to do if we meet Miss "Weston ? " 
 
 Lily contrived to overcome Reginald's refined notions, 
 sufficiently to make him allow her to carry the pitcher ; 
 and when he had whistled up two of the dogs, they pro- 
 ceeded merrily along the road, dirty and wet though it 
 was. Their walk was not entirely without adventures; 
 first, they had to turn back in the path by the river side, 
 which would have saved them half a mile, but was now 
 flooded. Then, as they were paaaing through a long lane, 
 which led them by Edward Gage's farm, a great dog rushed 
 out of the yard, and fell upon the little terrier, Viper. 
 Old Neptune flew to the rescue, and to the great alarm of 
 Lily, Reginald ran up with a stick ; happily, however, a 
 labourer, at the same time, came out with a pitchfork, and 
 beat off the enemy. These two delays, together with 
 Reginald's propensity for cutting sticks ; and for breaking 
 ice, made it quite late when they arrived at South End. 
 
CHMSTMA8. 157 
 
 When there, they found that a kind neighbour had brought 
 the oldpeople their broth in the morning, and intended to 
 go for her own when she came home from her W9rk in the 
 evening. It was not often that Lily went to South End ; 
 the old people were delighted to see her, and detained her 
 for some time, by a long story about their daughter at ser- 
 vice, while Reginald looked the picture of impatience, 
 drumming on his knee, switching the leg of the table, and 
 tickling Neptune's ears. When they left the cottage, it was 
 much later and darker than they had expected : but Lily 
 was unwilling again to encounter the perils of the lane, and 
 consulted her brother whether there was not some other 
 way. He gave notice of a cut across some fields, which 
 would take them into the turnpike road, and Lily agree- 
 ing, they climbed over a gate into a pathless turnip field. 
 Reginald strode along first, calling to the dogs, while Lily 
 followed, abstaining from dwelling on the awkward circum- 
 stance, that every step she took led her further from 
 home, and rejoicing that it was so dark that she could not 
 see the mud which plastered the edge of her petticoats. 
 After plodding through three very long fields, they foimd 
 themselves shut in by a high hedge and tall ditch. 
 
 " That fool of a farmer ! " cried Reginald. 
 
 "What is to be done?" said Lily, disconsolately. 
 
 " There is the road," said Reginald. 
 
 " How do you propose to get into it ? " 
 
 " There was a gap here last summer," said the boy. 
 
 " Yery likely ! Come back ; try the next field ; it 
 must have a gate somewhere." 
 
 Back they went, after seeing the carrier's cart from 
 Raynham pass by. , 
 
 " Redgie, it must be half-past five ! We shall never be 
 \B time ! Aunt Rotherwood coming too ! " 
 
158 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 After a desperate plunge through a swamp of ice, 
 water, and mud, they found themselves at a gate, and safely 
 entered the turnpike road. 
 
 " How it rains," said Lily. " One comfort is, that it i» 
 too dark for any one to see us." 
 
 "Not very dark, either," said Reginald; "I believe 
 there is a moon if one could see it. Ha ! here comes some 
 one on horseback. It is a grey horse ; it is William." 
 
 " Come to look for us," said Lily. " Oh, Redgie !■" 
 
 " Coming home from Raynham," said Reginald. " Do 
 not fancy yourself so important, Lily. William, is that 
 you?" 
 
 " Reginald ! " exclaimed William, suddenly checking 
 his horse. " Lily, what is all this ? " 
 
 " We set out to South-end, to take the broth to the old 
 Martins, and we found the meadows flooded, which made 
 us late ; but we shall soon be at home," said Lily, in a 
 make-the-best-of-it tone. 
 
 " Soon ? You are a mile and a half from home now, 
 and do you know how late it is ? " 
 
 " Half-past five," said Lily. 
 
 " Six, at least ; how could you be so absurd ? " 
 
 William rode quickly on ; Reginald laughed, and they 
 plodded on ; at length, a tall dark figure was seen coming 
 towards them, and Lily started, as it addressed her, " Now 
 what is the meaning of all this ? " 
 
 " Oh, William, have you come to meet us ? Thank 
 you ; I am sorry — " 
 
 " How were you to come through the village in the 
 dark, without some one to take care of you? " 
 
 " I am taking care of her," said Reginald, afironted. 
 
 " Make haste ; my aunt is come. How could you 
 make the people at home so anxious? " 
 
CHRISTMAS. 159 
 
 William gave Lily his arm, and on finding sLe was both 
 tiled and wet, again scolded her, walked so fast that she 
 was out of breath, then complained of her folly, and 
 blamed Reginald. It was very unpleasant, and yet she 
 was very much obliged to him, and exceedingly sorry he 
 had taken so much trouble. 
 
 They came home at about seven o'clock. Jane met 
 them in the hall, full of her own and Lady Rotherwood's 
 wonderings ; she hurried Lily up stairs, and — skilful, quick, 
 and ready — she helped her to dress in a very short time- 
 As they ran down, Reginald overtook them, and they 
 entered the drawing-room as the dinner-bell was ringing. 
 William did not appear for some time, and his apologies 
 were not such as to smooth matters for his sister. 
 
 Perhaps it was for this very reason that Mr. Jlohun 
 allowed Lily to escape with no more than a jesting reproof. 
 Lord Rotherwood wished to make his cousin's hardihood 
 and enterprise an example to his sister, and, in his droll 
 exaggerating way, represented such walks as every-day 
 occurrences. This was just the contrary to what Emily 
 wished her aunt to believe, and Claude was much diverted 
 with the struggle between her politeness to Lord Rother- 
 wood, and her desire to maintain the credit of the family. 
 
 Lady Florence, though liking Lilias, thought this walk 
 extravagant. Emily feared Lilias had lost her aunt's good 
 opinion, and prepared herself for some hints about a gov- 
 erness. It was untoward ; but in the course of the evening 
 she was a little comforted by a proposal from Lady Rother 
 wood, to take her and Lilias to a ball at Raynham, which 
 was to take place in January ; and as soon as the gentlemen 
 appeared, they submitted the invitation to their father, 
 while Lady Rotherwood pressed William to accompany 
 them, and he was refusing. 
 
160 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEEOHCROFT. 
 
 " What are soldiers intended for but to dance ? " said 
 Lord Rotherwood. 
 
 " I never dance,'' said William, with a grave emphasis. 
 
 " I am out of the scrape," said the Marquis. " I shall 
 be gone before it takes place : I reserve all my dancing for 
 July 30th. Well, young ladies, is the Baron propitious ? " 
 
 " He says he will consider of it,'' said Emily. 
 
 " Oh, then he will let you go," said Florence, " people 
 never consider when they mean No." 
 
 " No, Florence," said her brother, " Uncle Mohun's 
 ' consider-of-it' is equivalent to Le Eoi's ' avisera.' " 
 
 '' What is he saying ? " asked Lily, turning to listen 
 " Oh, that my wig is in no ball-going condition." 
 
 " A wreath would hide all deficiencies," said Florence 
 " I am determined to have you both." 
 
 " I give small hopes of both," said Claude ; " you will 
 only have Emily." 
 
 " Why do you think so, Claude ? " cried both Florence 
 and Lilias. 
 
 " From my own observation," Claude answered gravely. 
 
 " I am very angry with the Baron," said Lord Rother- 
 wood ; " he is grown inhospitable ; he will not let me come 
 here to-morrow — the first Christmas these five years that I 
 have missed paying my respects to the New Court sirloin 
 and turkey. It is too bad — and the Westons dining here, 
 too." 
 
 " Cousin Turkey-cock, well may you be in a passion," 
 muttered Claude, as if in soliloquy. 
 
 Lord Rotherwood and Lilias both caught the sound and 
 laughed, but Emily, unwilling that Florence should see 
 what liberties they took with her brother, asked quickly 
 why he was not to come. 
 
 " I think we are much obliged to him," said Florence, 
 
CHRISTMAS. ICl 
 
 " it would bo too bad to leave mamma and me to spend our 
 Christmas alone, when we came to the Castle on purpose to 
 oblige him." 
 
 " Aye, and he says he will not let me come here, because 
 I ought to give the Hetherington people ocular demonstra- 
 tion that I go to Church," said Lord Rotherwood. 
 
 " Very right, as Eleanor would say," observed Claude. 
 
 " Very Hkely ; but I don't care for the Hetherington 
 folks ; they do not know how to make the holly in the 
 Church fit to be seen, and they will not sing the good old 
 Christmas Carols. Andrew Grey is worth all the Hether- 
 ington choir put together." 
 
 " Possibly ; but how are they to mend, if their Marquis 
 contents himself with despising them ? " said Claude. 
 
 " That is too bad, Claude. When you heard how sub- 
 missively I listened to the Baron, and know I mean to abide 
 by what he said, you ought to condole with me a little, if 
 you have not the grace to lament my absence on your own 
 account. Why, I thought myself as regular a part of the 
 feast as the mince pies, and almost as necessary." 
 
 Here a request for some music put an end to his lamen- 
 tations. Lilias was vexed by the uncertainty about the 
 ball, and was besides, too tired to play with spirit. She saw 
 that Emily was annoyed, and she felt ready to cry before 
 the evening was over; but still she was proud of her 
 exploit, and when, after the party was gone, Emily began 
 to represent to her the estimate that her aunt was likely to 
 form of her character, she replied, " If she thinks the worse 
 of me for carrying the broth to those poor old people, I am 
 sure I do not wish for her good opinion." 
 
 Mr. Mohun was not propitious when the question of 
 Lily's going to the ball was pressed upon him. He said 
 that he thought her too young for gaieties, and besides, thai 
 
162 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 late hours never agreed with her, and he advised her to wait 
 for the 30th of July. 
 
 Lilias knew that it was useless to-say any more. She 
 was much disappointed, and at the same time provoked 
 with herself for caring about such a matter. Her temper 
 was out of order on Christmas Day ; and while she won- 
 dered why she could not enjoy the festival as formerly, 
 with thoughts fitted to the day, she did not examine herself 
 sufficiently to find out the real cause of her uncomfortable 
 feelings. 
 
 The clear frost was only cold ; the bright sunshine did 
 not rejoice her ; the holly and the mistletoe seemed ill- 
 arranged ; and none of the pleasant sights of the day could 
 give her such blitheness as once she had known. She was 
 almost angry when she saw that the Westons had left off 
 their mourning, declaring that they did not look like them- 
 selves ; and her vexation came to a height when she found 
 that Alethea actually intended to go to the ball with Mrs. 
 Carrington. The excited manner in which she spoke of it 
 convinced Mr. Mohun that he had acted wisely in not 
 allowing her to go, since the very idea seemed to turn her 
 head. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 MINOR MISFORTUNES. 
 " Loving sho is, and tractable though wild." 
 
 In a day or two. Lady Rotherwood and her daughter called 
 at the New Court. On this occasion, Lilias was employed 
 in as rational and lady-like a manner as could be desired — 
 
MINOR MISFORTUNES. 163 
 
 in practising lior music in the drawing-room ; Emily was 
 reading, and Ada threading beads. 
 
 Lady Kotherwood greeted lier nieces very afiFecticn- 
 ately, gave a double caress to Adeline, stroked her pretty 
 curia, admired her bead-work, talked to her about her doll, 
 and then proceeded to invite the whole family to a Twelfth- 
 Day party, given for their especial benefit. The little Car- 
 ringtons and the Weston girls were also to be asked. 
 Emily and Lilias were eagerly expressing their delight, 
 when suddenly, a trampling, like a charge of horse, was 
 heard in the hall ; the door was thrown back, and in rushed 
 Reginald and Phyllis, shouting, " Such fun ! — the pigs are 
 in the garden ! " 
 
 At the sight of their aunt tiiey stopped short, looking 
 aghast, and certainly those who beheld them partook of 
 their consternation. Reginald was hot and gloveless ; his 
 shoes far from clean; his brown curls hanging in great dis- 
 order from his Scotch cap; his handkerchief loose; his 
 jacket dusty — ^but this was no great matter, since, as Emily 
 said, he was " only a boy." His bright open smile, the 
 rough, yet gentleman-like, courtesy of his advance to the 
 Marchioness, his comical roguish glance at Emily, to see 
 if she was very angry, and to defy her if she were, and 
 his speedy exit, all greatly amused Lady Florence, and 
 made up for what there might have been of the wild school- 
 boy in his entrance. 
 
 Poor Phyllis had neither the excuse of being a school- 
 boy, nor the good-humoured fearlessness that freed her 
 brother from embarrassment, and she stood stock still, awk- 
 ward and dismayed, not daring to advance ; longing to join 
 in the pig-chase, yet afraid,to run away, her eyes stretched 
 wide open, her hair streaming into them, her bonnet awry, 
 her tippet powdered with seeds of hay, her gloves torn and 
 
164 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCBOFT. 
 
 Boiled, the colour of her brown hoUand apron scarcely dis- 
 cernible through its various stains, her frock tucked up, 
 her stockings covered with mud, and without shoes, which 
 she had taken off at the door. 
 
 " Phyllis," said Emily, "what are you thinking of? 
 What makes you such a figure ? Come and speak to aunt 
 Eotherwood." 
 
 Phyllis drew off her left-hand glove and held out her 
 hand, making a few sidelong steps towards her aunt, who 
 gave her a rather reluctant kiss. Lily- bent her bonnet 
 into shape, and pulled down her frock, while Florence 
 laughed, patted her cheek, and asked what she had been 
 doing. 
 
 " Helping Redgie to chop turnips," was the answer. 
 
 Afraid of some further exposure, Emily hastily sent her 
 away to be made fit to be seen, and Lady Eotherwood went 
 on caressing Ada, and talking of something else. Emily 
 had no opportunity of explaining that this was not Phyllis's 
 usual condition, and she was afraid that Lady Eotherwood 
 would never believe that it was accidental. She was much 
 annoyed, especially as the catastrophe only served to divert 
 Mr. Mohun and Claude. Of all the family, William and 
 Adeline alone took her view of the case. Ada lectured 
 Phyllis on her " naughtiness," and plumed herself on her 
 aunt's evident preference, but William was not equally 
 sympathetic. He was indeed' as fastidious as Emily her- 
 self, and as much annoyed by such misadventures ; but he 
 maintained that she was to blame for them, saying that the 
 state of things was not such as it should be, and that the 
 exposure might be advantageous if it put her on her guard 
 in future. 
 
 It appeared as if poor Phyllis was to be punished for 
 the vexation which she had caused, for in the course of her 
 
MINOR MISFORTUNES. 165 
 
 adventures with Keginald, she caught a cold, which 
 threatened to prevent her from being of the party on 
 Twelfth-day. She had a cough which did not give her by 
 any means as much inconvenience, as the noise it occasioned 
 did to other people. Every morning and every evening 
 she anxiously asked her sisters whether they thought she 
 would be allowed to go. Another of the party seemed 
 likely to fail. On the 5th of January, Claude came down 
 to breakfast later even than usual ; but he had no occasion 
 to make excuses, for his heavy eyes, the dark lines under 
 them, his pale cheeks, and the very sit of his hair were sure 
 signs that he had a violent headache. He soon betook 
 himself to the sofa in the drawing-room, attended by Lily, 
 with pillows, cushions, ether, and lavender. Late in the 
 afternoon, the pain diminished a little, and he fell asleep, to 
 the great joy of his sister, who sat watching him, scarcely 
 daring to move. 
 
 Suddenly, a frightful scream and loud crash was heard 
 in the room above them. Claude started up, and Lily, 
 exclaiming, " Those tiresome children ! " hurried to the 
 room whence the noise had come. 
 
 Reginald, Phyllis and Ada all stood there laughing. 
 Reginald and Phyllis had been climbing to the top of a 
 great wardrobe, by means of a ladder of chairs and tables. 
 While Phyllis was descending her brother had made some 
 demonstration which startled her, and she fell with all the 
 chairs over her, but without hurting herself. 
 
 " You naughty troublesome child," cried Lily, in no 
 gentle tone. " How often have you been told to leave off 
 such boyish tricks ! And you choose the very place for 
 disturbing poor Claude, with his bad headache, making it 
 worse than ever." 
 
 Phyllis tried to speak, but only succeeded in giving a 
 
1G6 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCKOFT. 
 
 dismal howl. She went on screaming, sobbing, and roaring 
 BO loud, that she could not hear Lily's attempts to quiet 
 her. The next minute Claude appeared, looking half dis- 
 tracted. Reginald ran off, and as he dashed out of the 
 room, came full against William, who caught hold of him, 
 calling out to know what was the matter. 
 
 " Only Phyllis screaming," said Lily. " Oh, Claude, I 
 am very sorry ! " 
 
 " Is that all ? " said Claude. " I thought some one was 
 half killed ! " 
 
 He sank into a chair, pressing his hand on his temples, 
 and looking very faint. William supported him, and Lily 
 stood by, repeating, " I am very sorry — it was all my fault 
 — my scolding — " 
 
 " Hush," said William, " you have done mischief enough. 
 Go away, children." 
 
 Phyllis had already gone, and the next moment thrust 
 into Lily's hand, the first of the medicaments which she 
 had found in the drawing-room. The faintness soon went 
 off, but Claude thought he had better not struggle against 
 the headache any longer, but go to bed, in hopes of being 
 better the next day. William went with him to his room, 
 and Lilias lingered on the stairs, very humble, and very 
 wretched. William soon came forth again, and asked the 
 meaning of the uproar. 
 
 " It was all my fault," said she ; " I was vexed at 
 Claude's being waked, and that made me speak sharply to 
 Phyllis, and set her roaring." 
 
 " I do not know which is the most inconsiderate of 
 you,'' said William. 
 
 " You cannot blame me more than I deserve," said 
 Lily. " May I go to poor Claude ? " 
 
JIINOn MISFORTUNES. 167 
 
 " I suppose so ; but I do not see what good you are to 
 do. Quiet is the only thing for him." 
 
 Lily, however, went, and Claude gave her to under- 
 stand that he liked her to stay with him. She arranged his 
 blinds and curtains comfortably, and then sat down to 
 watch him. William went to the drawing-room to write a 
 letter. Just as he had sat down, he heard a strange noise, 
 a sound of sobbing, which seemed to come from the corner 
 where the library steps stood. Looking behind them, he 
 beheld Phyllis curled up, her head on her knees, crying 
 bitterly. 
 
 " You there ! Come out. What is the matter now ? " 
 
 '' I am so very sorry," sighed she. 
 
 " Well, leave off crying." She would wjllingly have 
 obeyed, but her sobs were beyond her own control ; and he 
 went on, " If you are sorry, there is no more to be said. 
 I hope it will be a lesson to you another time. You are 
 quite old enough to have more consideration for other 
 people." 
 
 " I am very sorry," again said Phyllis, in a mournful 
 note. 
 
 " Be sorry, only do not roar. You make that noise from 
 habit, I am convinced, and you may break yourself of it, 
 if you choose." 
 
 Phyllis crept out of the room, and in a few minutes 
 more the door was softly opened by Emily, returning from 
 her walk. 
 
 " I thought Claude was here. Is he gone to bed ? Is 
 his head worse ? " 
 
 " Yes, the children have been doing their best to dis- 
 tract him. Emily, I want to know why it is that those 
 children are for ever in mischief, and yelling in all parts 
 of the house." 
 
168 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 "I wish I could help it, said Emily, with a sigh; 
 " they are very troublesome.'' 
 
 " There must be great mismanagement," said her brother. 
 
 " Oh, William ! Why do you think so ? " 
 
 " Other children do not go on in this way, and it was 
 not so in Eleanor's time." 
 
 " It is only Phyllis," said Emily. 
 
 " Phyllis or not, it ought not to be. What will that 
 child grow up, if you let her be always running wild with 
 the boys?" 
 
 " Consider, William, that you see us at a disadvantage ; 
 we are all unsettled by this illness, and the children have 
 been from home." 
 
 " As if they learnt all these wild tricks at Broomhill ! 
 That excuse will not do, Emily." 
 
 " And then they are always worse in the holidays," 
 pleaded Emily. 
 
 " Yes, there are reasons to be found for every thing 
 that goes wrong; but if you were wise, you would look 
 deeper. Now, Emily, I do not wish to be hard upon you, 
 for I know you are in a very difl&oult position, and very 
 young for such a charge, but I am sure you might manage 
 better. I do not think you use your energies. There is no 
 activity, nor regularity, nor method about this household. 
 I believe that my father sees that this is the case, but it is 
 not his habit to find fault with little things. You may 
 think that, therefore, I need not interfere, but — " 
 
 " Oh, William ! I am glad—" 
 
 " But remember that comfort is made up of little 
 things. And Emily, when you consider how much my 
 father has suffered, and hoW desolate his home must be at 
 the best, I think you will be inclined to exert yourself to 
 
MINOR MISFORTUNES. 169 
 
 prevent him from being anxious about the children, or ha- 
 rassed by your negligence." 
 
 " Indeed, William,'' returned Emily, with many tears, 
 " it is my most earnest wish to make him comfortable. 
 Thank you for what you have said. Now that I am 
 stronger, I hope to do more, and I will really do my best." 
 
 At this moment Emily was sincere; but the good 
 impulse of one instant was not likely to endure against long 
 cherished habits of selfish apathy. 
 
 Claude did not appear again till the middle of the next 
 day. His headache was nearly gone, but he was so languid 
 that he gave up all thoughts of Devereux Castle that eve- 
 ning. Lord Rotherwood, who always seemed to know 
 what was going on at Beechcroft, came to enquire for him, 
 and very unwillingly allowed that it would be better for 
 him to stay at home. Lilias wished to remain with him ; 
 but this her cousin would not permit, saying that he could 
 not consent to lose three of the party, and Florence would 
 be disappoLuted in all her plans. Neither would Claude 
 hear of keeping her at home, and she was obliged to satisfy 
 herself with putting his arm chair in his favourite corner 
 by the fire, with the little table before it, supplied with 
 books, newspapers, ink-stand, paper-knife, and all the new 
 periodicals, and he declared that he should enjoy the height 
 of luxury. 
 
 Phyllis considered it to be entirely her fault that he 
 could not go, and was too much grieved on that account to 
 have many regrets to spare for herself. She enjoyed seeing 
 Adeline dressed, and hearing Esther's admiration of her. 
 And having seen the party- set off, she made her way into 
 the drawing-room, opening the door as gently as possible, 
 just wide enough to admit her little person, then shutting 
 it as if she was afraid of hurting it, she crept across the 
 
170 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 room on tiptoe. She started when Claude looked up and 
 said, " Why, Phyl, I have not seen you to-day." 
 
 " Good morning," she mumbled, advancing in her side- 
 long way. 
 
 Claude suspected that she had been more blamed the 
 day before than the occasion called for, and wishing to 
 make amends, he kissed her and said something good- 
 natured about spending the evening together. Phyllis, a 
 little re-assured, went to her own occupations. She took 
 out a large heavy volume, laid it on the window-seat, and 
 began to read. Claude was interested in his own book, 
 and did not look up till the light failed him. He then, 
 closing his book, gave a long yawn, and looked round for 
 his little companion, almost thinking, from the stillness of 
 the room, that she must have gone to seek for amusement 
 in the nursery. 
 
 She was, however, still kneeling against the window- 
 seat, her elbows planted on the great folio, and her head 
 between her hands, reading intently. 
 
 " Little Madam," said he, " what great book have you 
 got there?" 
 
 '"As You Like It,'" said PhylHs. 
 
 "What! are you promoted to reading Shakspeare?" 
 
 " I have not read any but this," said Phyllis. " Ada 
 and I have often looked at the pictures, and I liked the 
 poor wounded stag coming down to the water so much that 
 I read about it, and then I went on. Was it wrong, 
 Claude? no one ever told me not." 
 
 "You are welcome to read it," said Claude, " but not 
 now — ^it is too dark. Come and sit in the great chair on 
 the other side of the fire, and be sociable. And what do 
 you think of ' As You Like It ? ' " 
 
 "I like it very much," answered Phyllis, "only I can- 
 
MINOR MISFORTUNEa. 171 
 
 not tliink why Jacks did not go to the poor stag, and try 
 to cure it, -wlien he saw its tears running into the water." 
 
 To save the character of Jacks, Claude gravely sug- 
 gested the difficulty of catching the stag, and then asked 
 Phyllis her opinion of the heroines. 
 
 " ! it was very funny about Kosalind dressing like a 
 man, and then being ready to cry like a girl, when she 
 was tired, and then pretending to pretend to be herself; 
 and Celia, it was very kind of her to go away with Kosa- 
 lind ; but I should have liked her better, if she had stayed 
 at home, and persuaded her father to let Rosalind stay too. 
 I am sure she would if she had been like Ada. Then it is 
 so nice about old Adam and Orlando. Do not you think 
 so, Claude ? It is just what I am sure Wat Greenwood 
 would do fo«. Redgie, if he was to be turned out, like 
 Orlando." 
 
 "It is just what Wat Greenwood's ancestor did for Sir 
 Maurice Mohun," said Claude. 
 
 "Yes, Dame Greenwood tells us that story." 
 
 " Well, Phyl, I think you show very good taste in liking 
 the scene between Orlando and Adam." 
 
 " I am glad you like it, too, Claude. But I will tell 
 you what I like best," exclaimed the little girl, springing 
 up, " I do like it, when Orlando killed the lioness and tha 
 snake, and saved Oliver ; how glad he must have been." 
 
 " Glad to have done good to his enemy," said Claude ; 
 "yes, indeed." 
 
 " His enemy ! he was his brother, you know. I meant 
 it must be so very nice to save any body — don't you think 
 sor Claude?" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Claude, do you know there is nothing I wish so much 
 IS to save somebody's life. It was very nice to save the 
 
172 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHOROFT. 
 
 dragon-fly; and it is very nice to let flies out of spiders' 
 webs, only they always have their legs and wings torn, and 
 look miserable : and it was very nice to put the poor little 
 thrushes back into their nest when they tumbled out, and 
 then to see their mother come to feed them ; and it was 
 very pleasant to help the poor goose that had put its head 
 through the pales, and could not get it back. Mrs. Har- 
 rington said it would have been strangled if I had not 
 helped it. That was very nice, but how delightful it would 
 be to save some real human person's life." 
 
 Claude did not laugh at the odd medley in her speech, 
 but answered, " Well, those little things train you in readi- 
 ness and kindness." 
 
 " Will they ? " said Phyllis, pressing on to express what 
 had long been her earnest wish. "If I could but save 
 some one, I should not mind being killed myself — I think 
 not — I hope it is not naughty to say so. I believe there is 
 something in the Bible about it, about laying down one's 
 life for one's friend." 
 
 " There is, Phyl, and I quite agree with you, it must 
 be a great blessing to have saved some one." 
 
 " And little girls have sometimes done it, Claude. I 
 know a story of one who saved her little brother from 
 drowning, and another waked the people when the house 
 was on fire. And when I was at Broom Hill, Marianne 
 showed me a story of a young lady who helped to save the 
 Prince, that Prince Charlie that Miss Weston sings about. 
 I wish the Prince of Wales would get into some misfortune 
 — I should like to save him." 
 
 "I do not quite echo that loyal wish," said Claude. 
 
 " Well, but Claude, Redgle wishes for a rebellion, like 
 Sir Maurice's, for he says all the boys at his school will be 
 
MINOR MISFORTUNES. 173 
 
 one regiment, in green velvet coats, and white feathers in 
 their hats." 
 
 "Indeed! and Eedgie to be Field Marshal?" 
 
 " No, he is to be Sir Keginald Mohun, a Knight of the 
 Garter, and to ask the Queen to give William back the 
 title of Baron of Beechcroft, and make Papa a Duke." 
 
 " Well done ! he is to take good care of the interests of 
 the family." 
 
 "But it is not ^hat that I should care about," said 
 Phyllis. " I should live it better for the feeling in one's 
 own self; I think all that fass would rather spoil it — don't 
 you, Claude?" 
 
 " Indeed, I do ; but, Phyllis, if you only wish for that 
 feeling, you need not look for dangers or rebellions to 
 gain it." 
 
 " Oh ! you mean the feel that very good people indeed 
 have — people like Harry — ^but that I shall never be." 
 
 " I hope you mean to try, though." 
 
 "I do try; I wish I was as good as Ada, but I am so 
 naughty and so noisy that I do not know what to do. 
 Every day when I say my prayers, I think about being 
 quiet, and not idling at my lessons, and sometimes I do 
 stop in time, and behave better, but sometimes I forget, and 
 I do not mind what I am about, and my voice gets loud, 
 and I let the things tumble down, and make a noise, and so 
 it was yesterday." Here she looked much disposed to cry. 
 
 " No, no, we will not have any crying this evening," 
 said Claude. " I do not think you did me much mischief, 
 my head ached just as much before." 
 
 " That was a thing I wanted to ask you about; William 
 nays my crying loud is all habit, and that I must cure 
 myself of it. How does he mean ? Ought I to cry every 
 day to practise doing it without roaring?" 
 
174 EIGHTEEN M0NTH8 AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 "Do you like to begin," said Claude, laughing; "shall 
 I beat you or pinch you ? " 
 
 "Oh! it would make your head bad again," said 
 Phyllis ; " but I wish you would tell me what he means. 
 When I cry I only think about what makes me imhappy." 
 
 " Try never to cry," said Claude ; " I assure you it is not 
 pleasant to hear you, even when I have no headache. If 
 you wish to do any thing right, you must learn self-control, 
 and it will be a good beginning to check yourself when you 
 are going to cry. Do not look melancholy now. Here 
 comes the tea. Let me see how you will perform as tea- 
 maker." 
 
 "I wish the evening would not go away so fast!" 
 
 " And what are we to do after tea ? You are queen of 
 the evening." 
 
 "If you would but tell me a story, Claude." 
 
 They lingered long over the tea-table, talking and 
 laughing, and when they had finished, Phyllis discovered 
 with surprise that it was nearly bed-time. The promised 
 story was not omitted, however, and Phyllis, sitting on a 
 little footstool at her brother's feet, looked up eagerly for it. 
 
 " Well, Phyl, I will tell you a true history that I heard 
 from an officer who had served in the Peninsular war — the 
 war in Spain you know." 
 
 " Yes, with the French who killed their king. Lily 
 told me." 
 
 " And the Portuguese were helping us. Just after we 
 had taken the town of Ciudad Rodrigo, some of the Portu- 
 guese soldiers went to find lodgings for themselves, and, 
 entering a magazine of gunpowder, made a fire on the floor 
 to dress their food. A most dangerous thing — do you know 
 vrhy?" 
 
 " The book would be burnt," said Phyllis. 
 
MINOR MISFORTUNES. 175 
 
 " What book, you wise child ? " 
 
 "The Magazine; I thought a magazine was one of the 
 paper books that Maurice is always reading." 
 
 "Oh!" said Claude, laughing, " a magazine is a store, 
 and as many different things are stored in those books, they 
 are called magazines. A powder magazine is a store of 
 barrels of gunpowder. Now, do you see why it was dan- 
 gerous to light a fire ? " 
 
 " It blows up," said Phyllis ; " that was the reason why 
 Robinson Crusoe was afraid of the lightning." 
 
 " Eight, Phyl, and therefore a candle is never allowed 
 to be carried into a powder magazine, and even nailed shoes 
 are never worn there, lest they should strike fire. One 
 spark, lighting on a grain of gunpowder scattered on the 
 floor, might communicate with the rest, make it all explode, 
 and spread destruction every where. Think in what fear- 
 ful peril these reckless men had placed, not only themselves 
 but the whole town, and the army. An English officer 
 chanced to discover them, and what do you think he did ? " 
 
 "Told all the people to run away." 
 
 " How could he have told every one, soldiers, inhabit- 
 ants, and all ? where could they have gone ? No, he raised 
 no alarm, but he ordered the Portuguese out of the build- 
 ing, and with the help of an English sergeant, he carried 
 out, piece by piece, all the wood which they had set on fire. 
 Now, imagine what that must have been. An explosion 
 might happen at any moment, yet they had to walk steadil}', 
 slowly, and with the utmost caution, in and out of this 
 place several times, lest one spark might fly back." 
 
 "Then they were saved," cried Phyllis, breathlessly; 
 " and what became of them afterwards ? " 
 
 " They were both killed in battle, the oflioer, I believe, 
 at Badajos, and the sergeant some time afterwarda." 
 
176 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 Phyllis gave a deep sigh, and sat silent for some min 
 iitea. Next, Claude began a droll Irish fairy-tale, which ha 
 told with spirit and humour, such as some people would 
 have scorned to exert for the amusement of a mere child. 
 Phyllis laughed, and was so happy, that when suddenly 
 they heard the sound of wheels, she started up, wondering 
 what brought the others home so soon, and was still more 
 surprised when Claude told her it was past ten. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! what will Papa and Emily say to me for 
 being up still ? But I will stay now, it would not be fair 
 to pretend to be gone to bed." 
 
 "Well said, honest Phyl; now for the news from the 
 Castle." 
 
 "Why, Claude,'' said his eldest brother entering, "you 
 are alive again." 
 
 " I doubt whether your evening could have been plea- 
 santer than ours," said Claude. 
 
 " Phyl," cried Ada, " do you know, Mary Carrington's 
 governess thought I was Florence's sister." 
 
 " You look so bright, Claude," said Jane, " I think you 
 must have had Cinderella's friend with the pumpkin to 
 enliven you." 
 
 " My fairy was certainly sister to a brownie," said 
 Claude, stroking Phyllis's hair. 
 
 " Claude," again began Ada, "Miss Car — " 
 
 " I wish Cinderella's fairy may be forthcoming the day 
 of the ball," said Lily, disconsolately. 
 
 "And William is going after all," said Emily. 
 
 " Indeed 1 has the great Captain relented? " 
 
 " Yes. Is it not good of him ? Aunt Rotherwood is so 
 much pleased that he consents to go entirely to oblige her.'' 
 
 " Sensible of his condescension," said Claude. " By the 
 bye, what makes the Baron look so mischievous ? " 
 
MINOR MISFORTUNES. 177 
 
 Mischievous! " said Emily, looking round -with a start, 
 " he is looking very comical, and so he has been all the 
 evening." 
 
 "What? You thought mischievous was meant in 
 Hannah's sense, -when she complains of master Reginald 
 being very mische-vi-ous." 
 
 Ada now succeeded in saying, " the Carrington's gover- 
 ness called me Lady Ada." 
 
 "How could she bring herself to utter so horrid a 
 sound?" said Claude. 
 
 " Ada is more cock-a-hoop than ever now," said Regi- 
 nald, " she does not think Miss Weston good enough to 
 speak to." 
 
 " But, Claude, she really did, she thought I was Flor- 
 ence's sister, and she said I was just like her." 
 
 " I wish you would hold your tongue, or go to bed," 
 said William, " I have heard nothing but this nonsense all 
 the way home. 
 
 While William was sending off Ada to bed, and Phyllis 
 was departing "with her, Lily told Claude that the Captain 
 had been most agreeable. "I feared," said she, "that he 
 would be too grand for this party, but he was particularly 
 entertaining; Rotherwood was quite eclipsed." 
 
 " Rotherwood wants Claude to set him off," said Mr. 
 Mohun. " Now, young ladies, reserve the rest of your 
 adventures for the morning." 
 
 Adeline had full satisfaction in recounting the gover- 
 ness's mistake to the maids, and in hearing from Esther 
 that it was no wonder, " for that she looked more like a 
 corn lady than Lady Florence herself!" 
 
 Lilias'a fit of petulance about the ball had returned 
 more strongly than ever ; she partly excused herself to her 
 own mind, by fancying she disliked the thought of the 
 
178 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECH«!KOFT. 
 
 lonely evening she was to spend, more than that of losing 
 the pleasure of the hall. Mr. Mohun would be absent, 
 conducting Maurice to a new school, and Claude and Regi- 
 nald would also be gone. 
 
 Her temper was affected in various ways ; she wondered 
 that William and Emily could like to go — she had thought 
 that Miss Weston was wiser. Her daily occupations were 
 irksome — she was cross to Phyllis. It made her very 
 angry to be accused by the young brothers of making a 
 fuss, and Claude's silence was equally offensive. It was 
 upon principle that he said nothing. He knew it was 
 nothing but a transient attack of silliness, of which she 
 was herself ashamed ; but he was sorry to leave her in that 
 condition, and feared Lady Eotherwood's coming into the 
 neighbourhood was doing her harm, as certainly as it was 
 spoiling Ada. The ball day arrived, and it was marked 
 by a great burst of fretfulness on the part of poor Lilias, 
 occasioned by so small a matter as the being asked by 
 Emily to write a letter to Eleanor. Emily was dressing 
 to go to dine at Devereux Castle when she made the re- 
 quest. 
 
 " What have I to say ? I never could write a letter in 
 my life, at least not to the Duenna — there is no news." 
 
 " About the boys going to school," Emily suggested. 
 
 " As if she did not know all about them as well as I 
 can tell her. She does not care for my news, I see no one 
 to hear gossip from. I thought you undertook all the 
 formal correspondence, Emily." 
 
 " Do you call a letter to your sister formal correspond- 
 ence V " 
 
 " Every thing is formal with her. All I can say is, 
 that you and William are going to the ball, and she will 
 Bay that is very silly." 
 
MINOR MISFORTUNES. 179 
 
 " Eleanor once went to this Raynham ball ; it was her 
 first and last, said Emily." 
 
 " Yes, not long before tliey went to Italy ; it will only 
 make her melancholy to speak of it — I declare I cannot 
 write." 
 
 " And I have no time," said Emily, " and you know 
 how vexed she is if she does not get her letter every Satur- 
 day." 
 
 "All for the sake of punctuality, nothing else," said 
 Lily. " I rather like to disappoint fidgetty people — don't 
 you, Emily?" 
 
 " Well," said Emily, " only Papa does not like that she 
 should be disappointed." 
 
 " You might have written, if you had not dawdled away 
 all the morning." 
 
 This was true, and it therefore stung Emily, who com- 
 plained that Lily was very unkind. Lily defended herself 
 sharply, and the dispute was growing vehement, when 
 William happily cut it short by a summons to Emily to 
 make haste. 
 
 When they were gone, Lily had time for reflection. 
 Good temper was so common a virtue, and generally cost 
 her so little effort, that she took no pains to cultivate it, 
 but now she felt she had lost all claim to be considered 
 amiable under disappointment. It was too late to bear the 
 privation with a good grace. She was heartily ashamed of 
 having been so cross about a trifle, and ashamed of being 
 discontented at Emily's having a pleasure in which she 
 could not share. Would this have been the case a year 
 ago? She was afraid to ask herself the question, and 
 without going deep enough into the history of her own 
 mind to make her sorrow and shame profitable, she tried to 
 satisfy herself with a superficial compensation, by making 
 
180 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROET. 
 
 herself particularly agreeable to her three younger sisters, 
 and by writing a very long and entertaining letter to 
 Eleanor. 
 
 She met Emily with a cheerful face the next day, and 
 listened with pleasure to her history of the ball ; and when 
 Mr. Mohun returned home, he saw that the cloud had passed 
 away. But, alas ! Lilias neglected to take the only means 
 of preventing its recurrence. 
 
 The next week William departed. Before he went, he 
 gave his sisters great pleasure by desiring them to write to 
 him, and not to let him fall into his ancient state of ignor- 
 ance respecting the affairs of Beeohcroft. 
 
 " Mind," was his farewell speech, " I expect you to keep 
 me au courant du jour. I will not be in the dark about 
 your best friends and neighbours when I come home next 
 July." ' 
 
 CHAPTEK XVI. 
 
 VANITY AND VEXATION. 
 
 "And still I have to tell the same sad tale 
 Of wasted energies, and idle dreams." 
 
 Devekeux Castle now became the great resort of the Miss 
 Mohuns. They were always sure of a welcome there. 
 Lady Rotherwood liked to patronize them, and Florence 
 was glad of their society. 
 
 This was quite according to the wishes of Emily, who 
 now had nothing left to desire, but that the style of dress 
 suitable, in her opinion, to the grand- daughter of the Mar- 
 ' nis of Rotherwood, was more in accordance with the purse 
 
VANITY AND VEXATION. 181 
 
 of tlie daughter of the Esquire of Beechcroft. It was no 
 part of Emily's oliaracter to care for dress. She was at 
 once too indolent and too sensible ; she saw the vulgarity of 
 finery, and only aimed at simplicity and elegance. During 
 their girlhood, Emily and Lilias had had no more concern 
 with their clothes than with their food ; Eleanor had care- 
 fully taught them plain needlework, and they had assisted 
 in making more than one set of shirts ; but they had nothing 
 to do with the choice or fashion of their own apparel. 
 They were always dressed alike, and in as plain and chUdish 
 a manner as they could be, consistently with their station. 
 On Eleanor's marriage, a suitable allowance was given to 
 each of them, in order that they might provide their own 
 clothes, and until Rachel left them, they easily kept them- 
 selves in very good trim. When Esther came, Lily cheer- 
 fully took the trouble of her own small decorations, consid- 
 ering it as her payment for the pleasure of having Esther 
 in the house. Emily, however, neglected the useful " stitch 
 in time," till even " nine" were unavailing. She soon found 
 herself compelled to buy new ready-made articles, and 
 expected Lilias to do the same. But Lilias demurred, for 
 she was too wise to think it necessary to ruin herself in 
 company with Emily, and thus the two sisters were no 
 longer dressed alike. A constant fear tormented Emily 
 lest she should disgrace Lady Eotherwood, or be considered 
 by some stranger, as merely a poor relation of the great 
 people, and not as the daughter of the gentleman of the 
 oldest family in the county. She was, therefore, anxious to 
 be perfectly fashionable, and not to wear the same things 
 too often, and in her disinterested desire to maintain the 
 dignity of the family, the allowance which she received at 
 Christmas melted away in her hands. 
 
 Lily, though exempt from this folly, was not in a satis- 
 
182 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECJCROFT. 
 
 factory state of mind. She was drawn off from her duties 
 by a kind of spell. It was not that she liked Florence's 
 society better than her home pursuits. Florence was 
 indeed a very sweet-tempered and engaging creature ; but 
 her mind was not equal to that of Lilias, and there was 
 none of the pleasure of relying upon her, and looking up 
 to her, which Lilias had learnt to enjoy in the company of 
 her brother Claude, and of Alethea Weston. It was only 
 that Lily's own mind had been turned away from her former 
 occupations, and that she did not like to resume them. She 
 had often promised herself to return to her really useful 
 studies, and her positive duties, as soon as her brothers 
 were gone ; but day after day passed and nothing was done, 
 though her yisits to the cottages and her lessons to Phyllis 
 were often neglected. Her calls at Devereux Castle took 
 up many afternoons. Florence continually lent her amusing 
 books, her aunt took great interest in her music, and she 
 spent much time in practising. The mornings were cold 
 and dark, and she could not rise early, and thus her time 
 slipped away, she knew not how, uselessly and unsatisfac- 
 torily. The three younger ones were left more to them- 
 selves, and to the maids. Jane sought for amusement in 
 village gossip, and the little ones, finding the nursery more 
 agreeable than the deserted drawing-room, made Esther 
 their companion. 
 
 Mr. Mohun had, at this time, an unusual quantity of 
 business on his hands ; he saw that the girls were not going 
 on well, but he had reasons for not interfering at present, 
 and he looked forward to Eleanor's visit as the conclusion 
 of their trial. 
 
 " I cannot think," said Marianne Weston one day to 
 Ver sister, "why Mr. Mohun comes-here so often." 
 
 Alethea told her he had some business with their 
 
VANITY AND VEXATION. 183 
 
 mamma, and she thought no more of the matter, till ehe 
 was one day questioned by Jane. She was rather afraid of 
 Jane, who, as she thought, disliked her, and wished to turn 
 her into ridicule ; so it was with no satisfaction that she 
 found herself separated from the others in the course of a 
 walk, and submitted to a cross-examination. 
 
 Jane asked, in a mysterious manner, who had been at 
 Broomhill that morning. 
 
 " Mr. Mohun," said Marianne. 
 
 "What did he go there for?" said Jane. 
 
 " Alethea says he has some business with mamma." 
 
 " Then you did not hear what it was? " 
 
 "I was not in the room." 
 
 "Are you never there when he comes?" 
 
 " Sometimes." 
 
 " And is Alethea there ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes!" 
 
 " His business must be with her too. Cannot you 
 guess it ? " 
 
 " No," said Marianne looking amazed. 
 
 "How can you be so slow?" 
 
 " I am not sure that I would guess if I could," said 
 Marianne, "for I do not think they wish me to know." 
 
 " Oh ! nonsense, it is fine fun to find out secrets," said 
 Jane. " You will know it at last, you may be sure, so there 
 can be no harm in making it out beforehand, so as to have 
 the pleasure of triumph when the wise people vouchsafe 
 to admit you into their confidence ; I am sure I know it 
 all." 
 
 " Then please do not tell me, Jane, I ought not to 
 hear it." 
 
 " Little Mrs. Propriety," said Jane, " you are already 
 assuming all the dignity of my aunt Marianne, and Wil- 
 
184 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCKOFT. 
 
 liam'iS aunt Marianne — oh! and of little Henry's great 
 aunt Marianne. Now,'' she added, laughing, "can you 
 guess the secret?" 
 
 Marianne stood still in amazement for a moment, and 
 then exclaimed, " Jane, Jane, you do not mean it, you are 
 only trying to tease me." 
 
 "lam quite serious," said Jane. " You will see that 
 I am right." 
 
 Here they were interrupted, and as soon as she returned 
 from her walk, Marianne, perplexed and amazed, went to 
 her mother, and told her all that Jane had said. 
 
 "How can she be so silly? " said Mrs. Weston. 
 
 "Then it is all nonsense, as I thought," said Marianne 
 joyfully. " I should not like Alethea to marry an old 
 man." 
 
 "Mr. Mohun is very unlikely to make himself ridicu- 
 lous," said Mrs. Weston. " Do not say any thing of it to 
 Alethea; it would only make her uncomfortable." 
 
 "If it had been Captain Mohun now — " Marianne 
 stopped, and blushed, finding her speech unanswered. 
 
 A few days after, Mr. Mohun overtook Marianne and 
 her mother, as he was riding home from Raynham, and dis- 
 mounting, led his horse and walked on with them. Either 
 not perceiving Marianne, or not oaring whether she heard 
 him, he said : 
 
 " Has Miss Weston received the letter she expected ? " 
 
 "No," said Mrs. Weston, " she thinks, as there is no 
 answer, the family must be gone abroad, and very probably, 
 they have taken Miss Aylmer with them ; but she has 
 written to another friend to ask about them." 
 
 " From all T hear," said Mr. Mohun, " I should prefer 
 iFaiting to hear from her, before we 'make further enquiries; 
 we shall not be ready before Midsummer, as I should wish 
 
VANITY AND VBXATIOSr. ■ 185 
 
 my eldest daughter to assist me in making this important 
 decision." 
 
 "In that case," said Mrs. Weston, " there will be plenty 
 of time to communicate with her. I can see some of the 
 friends of the family when I go to London, for we must 
 not leave Mr. Weston in solitude another spring." 
 
 " Perhaps I shall see you there," said Mr. Mohun. 
 
 " I have some business in London, and I think I shall 
 meet the Hawkesworths there in May or June." 
 
 After a little more conversation Mr. Mohun tsok his 
 leave, and as soon as he had ridden on, Marianne said : 
 
 " Oh ! mamma, I could not help hearing." 
 
 " My dear," said Mrs. Weston, " I know you may be 
 trusted ; but I should not have told you, as you may find 
 such a secret embarrassing when you are with your young 
 frends." 
 
 " And so they are to have a governess ? " 
 
 "Yes; and we are trying to find Miss Aylmcr for 
 them." 
 
 " Miss Aylmer ! I am glad of it, how much Phyllis 
 and Ada will like her ! " 
 
 " Yes, it will be very good for them ; I wish I knew the 
 Grants' direction." 
 
 "Well, I hope Jane will not question me any more; it 
 will be very difficult to manage, now I know the truth." 
 
 But poor Marianne was not to escape. Jane was on 
 the watch to find her alone, and as soon as an opportimity 
 offered she began : — 
 
 " Well, Auntie, any discoveries ? " 
 
 " Indeed, Jane, it is not right to fancy Mr. Mohun can 
 do any thing so absurd." 
 
 " That is as people may think," said Jane. 
 
 " I wish you would not talk in that way," said Marianne, 
 
186 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 "Now, Marianne," pursued the tormentor, "if you can 
 explain the mystery I will believe ycu, otherwise I know 
 what to think." 
 
 " I am certain you are wrong, Jane ; but I can tell you 
 no more." 
 
 " Very well, my good aunt, I am satisfied." 
 
 Jane really almost persuaded herself that she was right, 
 as she perceived that her father was always promoting inter- 
 course with the Westons, and took pleasure in conversing 
 with Alethea. She twisted every thing into a confirmation 
 of her idea ; while the prospect of having Jliss Weston for 
 a step-mother increased her former dislike ; but she kept 
 her suspicions to herself for the present, triumphing in 
 the idea that, when the time came, she could bring Marianne 
 as a witness of her penetration. 
 
 The interourse between the elder Miss Mohuns and Miss 
 Weston was, however, not so frequent as formerly; and 
 Alethea herself could not but remark that, while Mr. Mohun 
 seemed to desire to become more intimate, his daughters 
 were more backward in making appointments with her. 
 This was chiefly remarkable in Emily and Jane. Lilias 
 was the same in openness, earnestness, and affection; but 
 there was either a languor about her spirits, or they were 
 too much excited, and her talk was more of novels, and 
 less of poor children than formerly. The constant visits to 
 Devereux Castle prevented Emily and Lilias from being as 
 often as before at Church, and thus they lost many walks 
 and talks that they used to enjoy in the way home, 
 Marianne began to grow indignant, especially on one occa- 
 sion, when Emily and Lily went out for a drive with Lady 
 Rotherwood, forgetting that they had engaged to take a 
 walk with the Westons that afternoon. 
 
 " It is really a great deal too bad," said she to Alethea; 
 
VANITY AND VEXATION. 187 
 
 '' it is exactly what we have read of in books about grandeur 
 making people cast oflf their old friends." 
 
 "Do not be unfair, Marianne," said Alcthea. "Lady 
 Florence has a better right to — " 
 
 " Better right ! " exclaimed Marianne. " What, because 
 she is a Marquis's daughter ? " 
 
 " Because she is their cousin." 
 
 " I do not believe Lilias really cares for her half as 
 much as for you," said Marianne. " It is all because they 
 are fine people." 
 
 " Nay, Marianne, if our cousins were to come into this 
 neighbourhood, we should not be as dependent on the 
 Mohuns as we now feel." 
 
 " I hope we should not break our engagements with 
 them." 
 
 " Perhaps they could not help it. When their aunt 
 came to fetch them, knowing how seldom they can have 
 the carriage, it would have been scarcely civil to say that 
 they had rather take a walk with people they can see any 
 day." 
 
 " Last year, Lilias would have let Emily go by herself," 
 said Marianne. " Alethea, they are all difierent since that 
 Lady Rotherwood came — all except Phyl. Ada is a great 
 deal more conceited than when she was staying here ; she 
 pulls out her curls, and looks in the glass much more, and 
 she is always talking about some one having taken her for 
 Lady Florence's sister. And, Alethea, just fancy, she does 
 not like me to go through a gate before her, because she 
 says she has precedence ! " 
 
 Alethea was much amused, but she would not let 
 Marianne condemn the whole family for Ada's folly. " It 
 will all come right," said she, " let us be patient and good- 
 humoured, and nothing can be really wrong." 
 
188 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 Though Alethea made the best of it to her sister, she 
 could not but feel hurt, and would have been much more 
 so, if her temper had been jealous or sentimental. Almost 
 in spite of herself, she had bestowed upon Lilias no small 
 share of her affection, and she would have been more pained 
 by her neglect, if she had not partaken of that spirit which 
 " thinketh no evil, but beareth all things, believeth all 
 things, hopeth all things, and endureth all things." 
 
 Lilias was not satisfied with either herself, her home, her 
 sisters, or her school; she was far from being the fresh 
 iiappy creature that she had been the year before. She 
 had seen the fallacy of her principle of love, but in her 
 self-willed adherence to it, she had lost the strong sense and 
 habit of duty which had once ruled her ; and, in a vague 
 and restless frame of mind, she merely sought from day to 
 day for pleasure and idle occupation. Lent came, but she 
 was not roused, she was only more uncomfortable when she 
 saw the Hector, or Alethea, or went to Church. Alethea's 
 unfailing gentleness, she felt almost as a rebuke ; and Mr. 
 Devereuz, though always kind and good-natured, had ceased 
 to speak to her of those small village matters in which she 
 used to be prime counsellor. 
 
 The school became a burthen instead of a delight, and 
 her attendance there a fatigue. On going in one Sunday 
 morning, very late, she found Alethea teaching her class as 
 well as her own. With a look of vexation, she enquired, 
 as she took her place, if it was so very late, and on the 
 way to Church, she said again, " I thought I was quite in 
 time ; I do not like to hurry the children — the distant ones 
 have not time to come. It was only half-past nine." 
 
 "Oh! Lilias," said Marianne, "it was twenty minutes 
 to ten, I know, for I had just looked at the clock." / 
 
 " That clock is always too fast," said Lily. 
 
VANITY AND VEXATION. 189 
 
 The next Sunday was very cold, and Lilias did not feel 
 at all disposed to leave the fire, when the others prepared 
 to go to the afternoon school. 
 
 " Is it time ? " said she. " I was chilled at Church, and 
 my feet are still like ice; I will follow you in five minutes." 
 
 Alethea went, and Lilias lingered by the fixe. Mrs. 
 Weston once asked her if she knew how late it was; but 
 still she waited, until she was startled by the sound of the 
 bell for evening service. As she went to Church with Mrs. 
 Weston and Emily, she met Jane, who told her that her 
 class had been unemployed all the afternoon. 
 
 " I would have taken them," said she, " but that Robert 
 does not like me to teach the great girls, and I do think 
 Alethea might have heard them." 
 
 " It is very provoking," said Lily, pettishly, " I thought 
 I might depend — " She turned and saw IMiss Weston 
 close to her. " Oh ! Alethea," said she, " I thought you 
 would have heard those girls." 
 
 "I thought you were coming," said Alethea. 
 
 " So I was, but I am sure the bell rang too early : I do 
 wish you had taken them, Alethea." 
 
 " I am sorry you are vexed," said Alethea, simply. 
 
 " What makes you think I am vexed ? I only thought 
 you liked hearing my class." 
 
 They were by this time at the Church door, and as 
 they entered, Alethea blamed herself for feeling grieved, 
 and Lily awoke to a sense of her unreasonableness. She 
 longed to tell Alethea how sorry she felt, but she had no 
 opportunity, and she resolved to go to Broomhill the next 
 day, to make her confession. In the night, however, the snow 
 began to fall, and the morning showed the February scene 
 of thawing snow and pouring rain. Going out was impos- 
 jible, both on that day and the next. Wednesday dawned 
 
190 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 fair and bright ; but just after breakfast, Lily received a 
 little note, -with tbe intelligence that Mr. "Weston had 
 arrived at Broomhill on Monday evening, and with his wife 
 and daughters, was to set off that very day to make a visit 
 to some friends on the way to London. Had not the 
 weather been so bad, Alethea said she should have come to 
 take leave of her New Court friends on Tuesday, but she 
 could now only send this note, to tell them how sorry she 
 was to go without seeing them, and to beg Emily to send 
 back a piece of music, which she had lent to her. The 
 messenger was Faith Longley, who was to accompany them, 
 and who now was going home to take leave of her mother, 
 and would call again for the music in a quarter of an hour. 
 Lily ran to ask her when they were to go. " At eleven," 
 was the answer; and Lily, telling her she need not call 
 again, as she herself would bring the music, went to look 
 for it. High and low did she seek, and so did Jane, but 
 it was not to be found in any nook, likely or unlikely ; and 
 when at last Lily, in despair, gave up the attempt to find it, 
 it was already a quarter to eleven. Emily sent many apol- 
 ogies and civil messages, and Lily set out at a rapid pace, 
 to walk to Broomhill, by the road, for the thaw had ren- 
 dered the fields impassable. Fast as she walked, she was 
 too late ; she had the mortification of seeing the carriage 
 turn out at the gates, and take the Raynham road; she 
 was not even seen, nor had she a wave of the hand, or a 
 smile to comfort her. 
 
 Almost crying with vexation, she walked home, and gat 
 down to write to Alethea, but, alas! she did not know 
 where to direct a letter. Bitterly did she repent of the 
 burst of ill temper, which had stained her last meeting 
 with her friend, and she was scarcely comforted even by the 
 lonff and affectionate letter which she received about a week 
 
LITTLE AGNES. 191 
 
 after their departure. Kindness from her was now forgive- 
 ness ; never did she so strongly feel Florence's inferiority, 
 and she wondered at herself, for having sought her society 
 so much, as to neglect her patient and superior friend 
 She became careless and indifferent to Florence, and yet 
 she went on in her former course, following Emily, and 
 fancying that nothing at Beechcroft could interest her in 
 the absence of her dear Alethea Weston. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 LITTLE AQNES. 
 
 " guide us wben our faithless Iiearta 
 
 From thee would start aloof, 
 Where patience her sweet skill imparts, 
 Beneath some cottage roof." 
 
 Palm Sunday brought Lily many regrets. It was the day 
 of the school prize giving, and she reflected with shame, 
 how much less she knew about the children than last year, 
 and how little they owed to her ; she feared to think of the 
 approach of Easter-day, a dread which she had never felt 
 before, and which she knew to be a very bad sign ; but her 
 regret was not repentance — she talked, and laughed, and 
 tried to feel at ease. Agnes Eden's happy face was the 
 most pleasant sight on that day. The little girl received a 
 Bible, and as it was given to her, her pale face was coloured 
 with bright pink, her blue eyes lighted up, her smile was 
 radiant with the beauty of innocence, but Lily could not 
 look at her without self-reproach. She resolved to mako 
 Up for her former neglect, by double kindness, and deter- 
 
192 EI&HTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 mined that, at any rate, Passion-week stould be properly 
 spent — she -would not once miss going to Churcli. 
 
 But on Monday, -when Emily proposed to ride to Dev- 
 erenx Castle, she assented, only saying, that they would 
 return for evening service. She took care to remind her 
 sister when it was time to set out homewards ; but Emily 
 was, as usual, so long in taking her leave, that it was too 
 late to think of going to Church, when they set off. 
 
 About two miles from Beechcroft, Lily saw a little 
 figure in a grey cloak trudging steadily along the road, and 
 as she came nearer, she recognized Kezia Grrey. She 
 stopped, and asked the child what brought her so far from 
 home. 
 
 " I am going for the doctor. Miss," said the child. 
 
 "Is your mother worse?" asked Lily. 
 
 "Mother is pretty well," said Kezia; "but it is for 
 Agnes Eden, Miss — she is terrible bad." 
 
 " Poor little Agnes ! " exclaimed Lily. " Why, she was 
 at school yesterday." 
 
 " Yes, Miss, but she was taken bad last night." 
 
 After a moment's consultation between the sisters, 
 Kezia was told that she might return home, and the servant 
 who accompanied ,the Miss Mohuns was sent to Raynham 
 for the doctor. The next afternoon, Lily was just setting 
 out to enquire for Agnes, when Lord Rotherwood arrived 
 at the New Court, with his sister. He wanted to show 
 Florence some of his favourite haunts at Beechcroft, and 
 had brought her to join his cousins in their walk. A very 
 pleasant expedition they made, but it led them so far from 
 home, that the Church bell was heard pealing over the 
 woods far in the distance. Lily could not go to Mrs. 
 Eden's cottage, because she did not know the nature of 
 Agnes's complaint, and her aunt could not bear that Flor- 
 
LITTLE AGNES. 193 
 
 ence' should go into any house where there was illness. In 
 the course of the walk, however, she met Kezia, on her way 
 to the New Court, to ask for a blister for Agnes, the doctor 
 having advised Mrs. Eden to apply to the Miss Mohuns for 
 one, as it was wanted quickly, and it was too far to send to 
 Raynham. Lily promised to send the blister as soon as 
 possible, and desired the little messenger to return home, 
 where she was much wanted, and to help her mother, who 
 had a baby of less than a week old. 
 
 Alas ! in the mirth and amusement of the evening, 
 Lily entirely forgot the blister, until just as she went to 
 bed, when she made one of her feeble resolutions to take it, 
 or send it early in the morning. She only awoke just in 
 time to be ready for breakfast, went down stairs, without 
 one thought of the sick child, and never recollected her, 
 until at Church, just before the Litany, she heard these 
 words : " The prayers of the congregation are desired for 
 Agnes Eden." 
 
 She felt as if she had been shot, and scarcely knew 
 where she was for several moments. On coming out of 
 Church, she stood almost in a dream, while Emily and Jane 
 were talking to the Rector, who told them how very ill the 
 child was, and how little hope there was of her recovery. 
 He took leave of them, and Lily walked home, scarcely 
 hearing the soothing words with which Emily strove to 
 comfort her. The morning passed away mournfully; Lily 
 sat over the fire without speaking, and without attempting 
 to do anything. In the afternoon, rain came on; but 
 Lily, too unhappy not to be restless, put on her bonnet and 
 cloak, and went out. 
 
 She walked quickly up the hill, and entered the field 
 where the cottage stood. There she paused. She did not 
 dare to knock at the cottage-door ; she could not bear to 
 9 
 
194 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 speak to Mrs. Eden ; she dreaded the sight of Mrs. Grey 
 or Kezia, and she gazed wistfully at the house, longing, yet 
 fearing, to know what was passing within it. She wan- 
 dered up and down the field, and at last was trying to make 
 up her mind to return home, when she heard footsteps 
 behind her, and turning, saw Mr. Deyereus adyancing 
 along the path at the other end of the field. 
 
 " Have you been to enquire for Agnes ? " said he. 
 
 " I could not. I long to know, but I cannot bear to 
 ask, I cannot venture in.'' 
 
 '' Do you like to go in with me ? " said her cousin. " I 
 do not think you will see any thing dreadful." 
 
 "Thank you," said Lily; "I would give any thing to 
 know about her." 
 
 " How you tremble ! but you need not be afraid." 
 
 He knocked at the door, but there was no answer ; he 
 opened it, and going to the foot of the stairs, gently called 
 Mrs. Eden, who came down calm and quiet as ever, though 
 very pale. 
 
 " How is she ? " 
 
 " No better, Sir, thank you, light-headed still." 
 
 " ! Mrs. Eden, I am so sorry," sobbed Lily. " Oh ! 
 can you forgive me ? " 
 
 " Pray do not take on so, Miss," said Mrs Eden. " You 
 have always been a very kind friend to her. Miss Lilias. 
 Do not take on so, Miss. If it is His will, nothing could 
 have made any difference." 
 
 Lily was going to speak again, but Mr. Devereux 
 stopped her, saying, "We must not keep Mrs. Eden from 
 her, Lily." 
 
 "Thank you. Sir, her aunt is with her," said Mrs. 
 Eden, " and no one is any good there now, she does not 
 
LITTLE AGNES. 195 
 
 know any one. Will you walk up and see her, Sir ? will 
 you walk up, Miss Lilias ? " 
 
 Lily silently followed her cousin up the narrow stairs to 
 the upper room, where in the white-curtained bed, lay the 
 little child tossing about and moaning, her cheeks flushed 
 with fever, and her blue eyes wide open, but unconscious. A 
 woman, whom Lily did not at first perceive to be Mrs. 
 Naylor, rose and curtsied on their entrance. Agnes's new 
 Bible was beside her, and her mother told them that she 
 was not easy if it was out of sight for an instant. 
 
 At this moment Agnes called out, " Mother," and Mrs. 
 Eden bent down to her, but she only repeated, " Mother," 
 two or three times, and then began talking, " Kissy, I want 
 my bag — where is my thimble — no, not that — I can't 
 remember — my catechism-book — my godfathers and god- 
 mothers in my baptism, wherein I was made a member — 
 my Christian name — ^my name, it is my Christian name ; 
 no, that is not it — 
 
 ' It is a name by which I am 
 
 Writ in the book of life, 
 And here below a charm to keep 
 
 Unharmed by sin and strife ; 
 As often as my name I hear 
 
 I hear my Saviour's voice.' " 
 
 Then she began the Creed, but breaking off, exclaimed, 
 " Where is my Bible, Mother, I shall read it to-morrow — 
 read that pretty verse about ' I am the good Shepherd, 
 — the Lord is my Shepherd, therefore can I lack nothing 
 
 yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of 
 
 death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me.' 
 
 ' 1 now am of that little flock 
 
 Which Christ doth call his own, 
 For all his sheep He knows by name, 
 And He of them is known.' " 
 
196 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 " Let US call upon your good Stephen!, Agnes," said 
 the Pastor, and the child turned her face toward him as if 
 she understood him. Kneeling down he repeated the 
 Lord's Prayer, and the feeble voice followed his. He then 
 read the prayer for a sick child, and left the room, for he 
 saw that Lily would he quite overcome, if she remained 
 there any longer. Mrs. Eden followed them down stairs, 
 and again stung poor Lily to the heart by thanks for all 
 her kindness. 
 
 They then left the house of mourning; Lily trembled 
 violently, and clung to her cousin's arm for support. Her 
 tears streamed fast, but her sobs were checked by awe at 
 Mrs. Eden's calmness. She felt as if she had been among 
 the angels. 
 
 "How pale you are," said her cousin; "I would not 
 have taken you there, if I had thought it would have over- 
 set you so much. Come into Mrs. Grey's, sit down and 
 recover a little." 
 
 " No, no, do not let me see any one," said Lily. " Oh! 
 that dear child ! Robert, let me tell you the worst, for your 
 kindness is more than I can bear. I promised Agnes a 
 blister and forgot it ! " 
 
 She could say no more for some minutes, but her cousin 
 did not speak. Recovering her voice, she added, " Only 
 speak to me, Robert." 
 
 "I am very sorry for you," answered he in a kind tone. 
 
 " But tell me, what shall I do ? " 
 
 " What to do, you ask," said the Rector ; " I am not 
 sure that I know what you mean. If your neglect has 
 added to her sufferings, you cannot remove them; and I 
 would not add to your sorrow unless you wished me to do 
 BO for your good." 
 
LITTLE AGNES. 197 
 
 " I do not see how I could be more unhappy than I am 
 now," said Lily. 
 
 " I think if you wish to turn your grief to good ac- 
 count, you must go a little deeper than this omission." 
 
 " You mean that it is a result of general carelessness," 
 said Lily ; " I know I have been in an odd idle way for 
 some time; I have often resolved, but I seem to have no 
 power over myself." 
 
 " May I ask you one question, Lily ? How have you 
 been spending this Lent ? " 
 
 " Robert, you are right," cried Lily ; " you may well 
 ask. I know I have not gone to Church properly, but how 
 could you guess the terrible way in which I have been 
 indulging myself, and excusing myself every unpleasant 
 duty that came in my way ? That was the very reason of 
 this dreadful neglect ;- well do I deserve to be miserable at 
 Easter, the proper time for joy. Oh ! how different it will 
 be." 
 
 " It will be, I hope, an Easter marked by repentance 
 and amendment," said the Rector. 
 
 " No, Robert, do not begin to be kind to me yet, you do 
 not know how very bad I have been," said Lily; "it all 
 began from just after Eleanor's wedding. A mad notion 
 came into my head, and laid hold of me. I fancied Elea- 
 nor stern, and cold, and unloveable; I was ingratitude 
 itself I made a foolish theory, that regard for duty makes 
 people cold and stem, and that feeling, which I confused 
 with Christian Love, was all that was worth having, and 
 the more Claude tried to awe me, the more obstinate I 
 grew ; I drew Emily over to my side, and we set our follies 
 above every thing. Justified ourselves for idling, neglect- 
 ing the children, indulging ourselves, calling it love, and so 
 it was, self-love. So my temper has been spoilmg, and my 
 
198 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCUOFT. 
 
 mind getting worse and worse, ever since we lost Eleanor. 
 At last different tilings showed me the fallacy of my prin- 
 ciple, but then I do believe I was beyond my own manage- 
 ment. I felt wrong, and could not mend, and went on 
 recklessly. You know but too well what mischief I have 
 done in the village, but you can never know what harm I 
 have done at home. I have seen more and more that I was 
 going on badly, but a sleep, a spell was upon me." 
 
 " Perhaps the pain you now feel may be the means of 
 breaking the spell." 
 
 " But is it not enough to drive me mad to think that 
 improvement in me should be bought at such a price — ^the 
 widow's only child ? " 
 
 " You forget that the loss is a blessing to her." 
 
 " Still I may pray that my punishment may not be 
 through them," said Lily. 
 
 " Surely," was the answer, " it is grievous to see that 
 dear child cut off and her patient mother left desolate — ^yet 
 how much more grievous it would be to see that spotless 
 innocence defiled." 
 
 " If it was to fall on any one," said Lilias, " I should 
 be thankful that it is on one so fit to die." 
 
 The Church bell began to ring, and they quickened 
 their steps in silence. Presently Lily said, " TeU me of 
 something to do, Robert, something that may be a pledge 
 that my sorrow is not a passing shower, something unneces- 
 sary but disagreeable, which may keep me in remembrance 
 that my Lent was not one of self-denial." 
 
 " You must be able to find more opportunities of self- 
 denial than I devise," said her cousin. 
 
 "Of course," said Lily; "but some one thing, some 
 punishment." 
 
 •' I will answer you to-morrow " said Mr. Devereux, 
 
LITTLE AGNES. 199 
 
 " One thing more," said Lily looking down; " after this 
 great fall ought I to come to next Sunday's feast ? I would 
 turn away if you thought fit." 
 
 " Lily, you can best j udge," said the Kector, kindly. " I 
 should think that you were now in a humble, contrite frame, 
 and therefore better prepared than when self-confident." 
 
 " How many times ! how shall I think of them ? but I 
 will," said Lily, " and Kobert, will you think of me when 
 you say the Absolution now, and next Sunday, at the 
 Altar?" 
 
 They were by this time at the Church-porch. As Mr. 
 Devereux* uncovered his head, he turned to Lilias, and said 
 in a low tone, " God bless you, Lilias, and grant you true 
 repentance and pardon." 
 
 Early the next morning the toll of the passing-bell 
 informed Lily that the little lamb had boon gathered into 
 the heavenly fold. 
 
 When she took her place in Church, she found in her 
 Prayer-book a slip of paper in the handwriting of her 
 cousin. It was thus : " You had better find out in which 
 duty you have most failed, and let the fulfilment of that be 
 your proof of self-denial. R. D." 
 
 Afterwards, Lily learnt that Agnes had been sensible 
 for a short time before her peaceful death. She had spoken 
 much of her baptism, had begged to be buried next a little 
 sister of Kezia's, and asked her mother to give her new 
 Bible to Kezia. 
 
 It was not till Sunday that Lilias felt as if she could 
 ever be comforted. Her heart was indeed ready to break, 
 as she walked at the head of the school-children, behind 
 the white covered coifin, and she felt as if she did not 
 deserve to dwell upon the child's present happiness ; but 
 afterwards she was relieved by joining in prajer for the 
 
200 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCKOFT. 
 
 pardon of our sins and negligences, and she felt as if she. 
 was forgiven, at least by man, when she joined with Sirs. 
 Eden in the appointed feast of Easter-day. 
 
 Mrs. Naylor was at Church on that and several follow- 
 ing Sundays : but though her husband now showed every 
 kindness to his sister, he still obstinately refused to be 
 reconciled to Mr. Devereux. 
 
 For many weeks poor little Kezia looked very unhappy. 
 Her blithe smiles were gone, her eyes filled with tears 
 whenever she was reminded of her friend, she walked to 
 school alone, she did not join the sports of the other chil- 
 dren, but she kept close to the side of Mrs. Eden, and 
 seemed to have no pleasure but with her, or in nursing her 
 little sister, who, two Sundays after the funeral, was chris- 
 tened by the name of Agnes. 
 
 It was agreed by Mr. Mohun and Lilias, that the grave 
 of the little girl should be marked by a stone cross, thus 
 inscribed : — 
 
 " Agnes Eden, 
 
 April 8th, 1846, 
 
 Aged 7 years.'' 
 
 " He shall gather the Lambs in His arms." 
 
DOaSLE DOUBLE TOIL. AKD TROUBLE. 201 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 DOUBLE DOUBLE TOIL AND TROUBLE. 
 
 " Truly the tender mercies of the weak. 
 As of the wicked, are but cruel.'' 
 
 And how did Lilias show that she had been truly benefited 
 by her sorrows ? Did she fall back into her habits of self- 
 indulgence, or did she run into ill-directed activity, selfish 
 as her indolence, because only gratifying the passion of the 
 moment ? 
 
 Those who lived with her, saw but little change ; kind- 
 hearted and generous she had ever been, and many had been 
 her good impulses, so that while she daily became more 
 steady in well-doing, and exerting herself on principle, no 
 one remarked it, and no one entered into the struggles which 
 it cost her to tame her impetuosity, or force herself to do 
 what was disagreeable to herself, and might offend Emily. 
 
 However, Emily could forgive a great deal when she 
 found that Lily was ready to take any part of the business 
 of the household and school-room, which she chose to 
 impose upon her, without the least objection, yet to leave 
 her to assume as much of the credit of managing as she 
 chose — to have no will or way of her own, and to help her 
 to keep her wardrobe in order. 
 
 The school-room was just now more of a labour than 
 
 had ever been the case, at least to one who, like Lilias, if 
 
 she did a thing at all, would not be satisfied with half 
 
 doing it. Phyllis was not altered, except that she cried 
 
 9* 
 
202 EIGHTEEN MONTH? AT BEECHCKOFT. 
 
 less, and had in a great measure cured herself of dawdling 
 habits and tricks, hy her honest efforts to obey well-remem- 
 bered orders of Eleanor's ; but still her slowness and dul- 
 ness were trying to her teachers, and Lily had often to 
 reproach herself for being angry with her " when she was 
 doing her best." 
 
 But Adeline was Lily's principal trouble ; there was a 
 change in her, for which her sister could not account. Last 
 year, when Eleanor left them, Ada was a sweet-tempered, 
 affectionate child, docile, gentle, and, excepting a little 
 occasional affectation and carelessness, very free from 
 faults ; but now her attention could hardly be commanded 
 for five minutes together ; she had lost the habit of ready 
 and implicit obedience, was petulant when reproved, and 
 was far more eager to attract notice from strangers — more 
 conceited, and therefore, more affected, and, worse than all, 
 Lily sometimes thought she perceived a little slyness, though 
 she was never able to prove any one instance completely to 
 herself, much less, to bring one before her father. Thus, if 
 Ada had done any mischief, she would indeed confess it on 
 being examined; but when asked why she had not told of 
 it dii-ectly, would say she had forgotten ; she would avail 
 herself of Phyllis's assistance in her lessons, without 
 acknowledging it, and Lilias found it was by no means safe • 
 to leave the Key to the French Exercises alone in the room 
 with her. 
 
 Emily's mismanagement had fostered Ada's carelessness 
 and inattention. Lady Rotherwood's injudicious caresses 
 helped to make her more affected ; other faults had grown 
 up for want of sufficient control, but this last was princi- 
 pally Esther's work. Esther had done well at school ; she 
 liked learning, was stimulated by notice, was really at- 
 tached to Lilias, and tried to deserve her good will ; but 
 
DOUBLE DOUBLE TOIL AND TROUBLE. 203 
 
 hor training at school and at home, were so different, that 
 her conduct was, even at the best, far too much of eye- 
 service, and she had very little idea of real truth and sin- 
 cerity. 
 
 On first coming to the New Court, she flattered the 
 children, because she did not know how to talk to them 
 otherwise, and afterwards, because she found that Miss 
 Ada's affections were to be gained by praise. Then, ia 
 her ignorant good-nature, she had no scruples about conceal- 
 ing mischief which the children had done, or procuring for 
 Ada little forbidden indulgences, on her promise of secrecy, 
 a promise which Phyllis would not give, thus putting a stop 
 to all those in which she would have participated. It was 
 no wonder that Ada, sometimes helping Esther to deceive, 
 sometimes deceived by her, should have learnt the same 
 kind of cunning, and ceased to think it a matter of course 
 to be true and just in all her dealings. 
 
 But how was it that Phyllis remained the same " hon- 
 est Phyl " that she had ever been, not one word savouring 
 of aught but strict truth having ever crossed her lips, 
 her thoughts and deeds full of guileless simplicity ? She 
 met with the same temptations, the same neglect, the same 
 bad example, as her sister ; why had they no effect upon 
 her? In the first place, flattery could not touch her, it 
 was like water on a duck's back, she did not know that it 
 was flattery, but so thoroughly humble was her mind, that 
 no words of Esther's would make her believe herself beau- 
 tiful, agreeable, or clever. Yet she never found out that 
 Esther over-praised her sister; she admired Ada so much, 
 that she never suspected that any commendation of her 
 was more than she deserved. Again, Phyllis never thought 
 of making herself appear to advantage, and her humility 
 saved her from the habit of concealing small faults, for 
 
204 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 whicli she expected no punishment; and, when seriously to 
 blame, punishment seemed so natural a consequence, that 
 she never thought of avoiding it, otherwise than by express- 
 ing sorrow for her fault. She was uninfected by Esther's 
 deceit, though she never suspected any want of truth ; her 
 singleness of mind was a shield from all evil ; she knew 
 she was no favourite in the nursery, but she never expected 
 to be liked as much as Ada, her pride and glory. In the 
 mean time, Emily went on contriving opportunities and 
 excuses for spending her time at Devereux Castle, letting 
 every thing fall into Lily's hands, every thing that she had 
 so eagerly undertaken little more than a year ago. And 
 now all was confusion ; the excellent order in which 
 Eleanor had left the household affairs was quite destroyed. 
 Attention to the store-room was one of the ways in which 
 Lilias thought that she could best follow the advice of 
 Mr. Devereux, since Eleanor had always taught that great 
 exactness in this point was most necessary. Great dis- 
 order, now, however, prevailed there, and she found that 
 her only chance of rectifying it, was to measure every 
 thing she found there, and to beg Emily to allow her to 
 keep the key ; for, when several persons went to the store- 
 room, no one ever knew what was given out, and she was 
 sure that the sweet things diminished faster than they ought 
 to do ; but her sister treated the proposal as an attempt 
 to deprive her of her dignity, and she was silenced. 
 
 She was up almost with the light, to despatch whatever 
 household affairs could be settled without Emily, before 
 the time came for the children's lessons ; many hours were 
 spent on these, while she was continually harassed by 
 Phyllis's dulness, Ada's inattention, and the interruption 
 of work to do for Emily, and often was she baffled by in- 
 terference from Jane or Emily. She was conscious of 
 
DOUBLE DOUBLE TOIL AND TROUBLE. 205 
 
 ber unfitness to teach the children, and often saw that her 
 impatience, ignorance, and inefficiency were doing mischief; 
 but much as this pained her, she could not speak to her 
 father without compromising her sister, and to argue with 
 Emily herself was quite in vain. Emily had taken up the 
 principle of love, and defended herself with it on every 
 occasion, so that poor Lily was continually punished by 
 having her past follies quoted against herself. 
 
 Each day Emily grew more selfish and indolent ; now 
 that Lily was willing to supply all that she neglected, and 
 to do all that she asked, she proved how tyrannical the 
 weak can be. 
 
 The whole of her quarter's allowance was spent in 
 dress, and Lily soon found that the only chance of keep- 
 ing her out of debt, was to spend her own time and laboui 
 in her behalf; and what an exertion of patience and kind- 
 ness this required, can hardly be imagined. Emily did 
 indeed reward her skill with affectionate thanks and kind 
 praises, but she interfered with her sleep and exercise, by 
 her want of consideration, and hardened herself more and 
 more in her apathetic selfishness. 
 
 Some weeks after Easter, Lilias was arranging some 
 books on a shelf in the school-room, when she met with a 
 crumpled piece of music-paper, squeezed in behind the 
 books. It proved to be Miss Weston's lost song, creased, 
 torn, dust-stained, and spoiled; she carried it to Emily, 
 who decided that nothing could be done but to copy it for 
 Alethea, and apologize for the disaster. Framing apologies 
 was more in Emily's way than copying music ; and the 
 former task, therefore, devolved upon Lily, and occupied 
 her all one afternoon, when she ought to have been seek- 
 ing cure for a headache, in the fresh air. It was no cure to 
 find the name of Emma Weston in the corner, and to per- 
 
206 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCE.OFT. 
 
 ceive how great and irreparable the loss of the paper was 
 to her friend. The thought of all her 'wrongs towards 
 Alethea, caused more than one large tear to fall, to blot 
 the heads of her crotchets and quavers, and thus give her 
 all her work to do over again. 
 
 The letter that she wrote, was so melancholy and re- 
 pentant, that it gave great pain to her kind friend, who 
 thought illness alone could account for the dejection ap- 
 parent in the general tone of all her expressions. In 
 answer, she sent a very affectionate, consoling letter, beg- 
 ging Lily to think no more of the matter, and though she 
 had too much regard for truth, to say that she had not 
 been grieved by the loss of Emma's writing, she added, 
 that Lily's distress gave her far more pain, and that her 
 copy would have great value in her eyes. 
 
 The beginning of June now arrived, and brought with 
 it the time for the return of Claude and Lord Eother- 
 wood. 
 
 The Marquis's carriage met him at Raynham, and he 
 set down Claude at New Court, on his way to Hether- 
 ington, just coming in to exchange a hurried greeting with 
 the young ladies. 
 
 Their attention was principally taken up by their 
 brother. 
 
 " Claude, how well you look ! ' How fat you are ! " was 
 their exclamation. 
 
 " Is not he?" said Lord Rotherwood. "I am quite 
 proud of him. Not one headache since he went. He 
 will have no excuse for not dancing the Polka." 
 
 " I do not return the compliment to you, Lily," said 
 Claude, looking anxiously at his sister. " What is the 
 matter with you ? Have you been ill ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! not at all ! " said Lily, smiling. 
 
DOUBLE DOUBLE TOIL AND TROUBLE. 207 
 
 "I am sure there is enough to make any one ill," said 
 Emily, in her deplorable tone; "I thought this poor par- 
 ish had had its share of illness, with the scarlet fever, and 
 now it has turned to a horrible typhus fever." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Claude. " Where ? Who ? " 
 
 " Qh ! the Naylors, and the Rays, and the Walls. John 
 Ray died this morning, and they do not think that Tom 
 Nay lor will live." 
 
 "Well," interrupted Lord Rotherwood, "I shall not 
 stop to hear any more of this chapter of accidents. I am 
 off, but mind, remember the 30th, and do not any of you 
 frighten yourselves into the fever." 
 
 He went, and Lily now spoke. " There is one thing in 
 all this, Claude, that is matter of joy, Tom Naylor has 
 sent for Robert." 
 
 " Then, Lily, I do most heartily congratulate you." 
 
 " I hope things may go better," said Lily, with tears in 
 her eyes. " The poor baby is with its grandmother. Mrs. 
 Naylor is ill too, and every one is so afraid of the fever, 
 that nobody goes near them but Robert, and Mrs. Eden, 
 and old Dame Martin. Robert says Naylor is in a satisfac- 
 tory frame — determined on having the baby christened — 
 but, oh ! I am afraid the christening is to be bought by 
 something terrible." 
 
 " I do not think those fevers are often very infectious," 
 said Claude. 
 
 "So Papa says," replied Emily; "but Robert looks 
 very ill. He is wearing himself out with sitting up. 
 Making himself nurse as well as every thing else." 
 
 This was very distressing, but still Claude scarcely 
 thought it accounted for the change that had taken place in 
 Lilias. Her cheek was pale, her eye heavy, her voice had 
 lost its merry tone ; Claude knew that she had had much 
 
208 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 to grieve her, but he was as yet far from suspecting how 
 she was overworked and harassed. He spoke of Eleanor's 
 return, and she did not brighten ; she smiled sadly at his 
 attempts to cheer her, and he became more and more anx- 
 ious about her. He was not long in discovering what was 
 the matter. 
 
 The second day after his return, Robert told them at 
 the Churchyard gate, that Tom Naylor was beginning to 
 mend, and this seemed to be a great comfort to Lily, who 
 walked home with a blither step than usual. Claude 
 betook himself to the study, and saw no more of his 
 sisters till two o'clock, when Lily appeared with the lan- 
 guid, dejected look, which she had lately worn, and seemed 
 to find it quite an effort to keep the tears out of her eyes. 
 Ada and Phyllis were in very high spirits, because they 
 were going to Raynham, with Emily and Jane, and at 
 every speech of Ada's, Lily looked more grieved. After 
 the Kaynham party were gone, Claude began to look for 
 Lily. He found her in her room, an evening dress spread 
 on the bed, a roll of ribbon in one hand, and with the 
 other, supporting her forehead, while the tears were slowly 
 rolling down her cheeks. 
 
 " Lily, my dear, what is the matter ? " 
 
 " Oh ! nothing, nothing, Claude," said she, quickly. 
 
 " Nothing ! no, that is not true. Tell me, Lily. You 
 have been disconsolate ever since I came home, and I will 
 not let it go on so. No answer ? Then am I to suppose 
 that these new pearlins are the cause of her sorrow ? 
 Come, Lily, be like yourself, and speak. More tears 1 
 Here, drink this water, be yourself again, or I shall be 
 angry and vexed. Now then, that is riglit : make an 
 effort, and tell me.'' 
 
 "There is nothing to tell," said Lily; "only you are 
 
DOUBLE DOUBLE TOIL AND TROUBLE. 209 
 
 verj kind — I do not know what is the matter with me — 
 only I have been very foolish of late — and every thing 
 makes me cry." 
 
 " My poor child, I knew you had not been well. They 
 Jo not know how to take care of you, Lily, and I shall 
 take you in hand. I am going to order the horses, and 
 wc will have a gallop over the Downs, and put a little 
 colour into your cheeks." 
 
 " No, no, thank you, Claude, I cannot come, indeed I 
 cannot, I have this work, which must be done to-day.'' 
 
 " At work at your finery, instead of coming out 1 You 
 must be altered, indeed, Lily." 
 
 " It is not for myself," said Lily, " but I promised 
 Emily she should have it ready to wear to-morrow." 
 
 " Emily, eh ? So she is making a slave of you ? " 
 
 " No, no, it was a voluntary promise. She does not 
 care about it, only she would be disappointed, and I have 
 promised." 
 
 " I hate promises ! " said Claude. " "Well, what must 
 be, must be, so I will resigti myself to this promise of 
 yours, only do not make such another. Well, but that 
 was not all; you were not crying about that fine green 
 thing, were you ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! " said Lily, smiling, as now she could smUff 
 again. 
 
 " What then ? I will know, Lily." 
 
 " I was only vexed at something about the children." 
 
 " Then what was it ? " 
 
 " It was only that Ada was idle at her lessons ; I told 
 her to learn a verb as a punishment, she went to Emily, 
 and somehow or other Emily did not find out the exact 
 facts, excused her, and took her to Raynham. I was 
 vexed because I am sure it does Ada harm, and Emily 
 
210 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 did not understand what I said afterwards ; I am sure slm 
 tliought me unjust." 
 
 '' How came slie not to be present ? " 
 
 " Emily does not often sit in the school-room, in the 
 morning, since she has been about that large drawing."' 
 
 " So you are governess as well as ladies'-maid, are you, 
 Lily ? What else ? Housekeeper, I suppose, as I see 
 you have all the weekly bills on your desk. Why, Lily, 
 this is perfectly philanthropic of you. You are exempli- 
 fying the rule of love in a majestic manner. Crying 
 again ! Water lily once more ? " 
 
 Lily looked up, and smiled : " Claude, how can you 
 talk of that old, silly, nay, wicked nonsense of my principle. 
 I was wise above what was written, and I have my punish- 
 ment in the wreck which my ' frenzy of spirit, and folly 
 of tongue' have wrought. The unchristened child, Agnes's 
 death, the confusion of this house, all are owing to my 
 hateful principle. I see the folly of it now, but Emily 
 has taken it up, and acts upon it in every thing. I do 
 struggle against it a little ; but I cannot blame any one, I 
 can do no good, it is all owing to me. We have betrayed 
 Papa's confidence; if he does not see it now, it will all 
 come upon him when Eleanor comes home, and what is to 
 become of us ? How it will grieve him, to see that we 
 cannot be trusted 1 " 
 
 " Poor Lily ! " said Claude. " It is a bad prospect, 
 but I think you see the worst side of it. You are not 
 well, and therefore doleful. This, Lily, I can tell you, 
 that the Baron always considered Emily's government as 
 a kind of experiment, and so perhaps he will not be so 
 grievously disappointed as you expect. Besides, I have a 
 sU'ong suspicion that Emily's own nature has quite as 
 
DOUBLE DOUBLE TOIL AND TROUBLE. 211 
 
 much to do with her present conduct as your principle, 
 which, after all, did not live very long." 
 
 'Just long enough to unsettle me, and make it more 
 dliEcult for me to get any way right," said Lily. " Oh ! 
 dear, what would I give to force backward the wheels of 
 time ! " 
 
 " But as you cannot, you had better try to brighten up 
 your energies. Gome, you know I cannot tell you not to 
 look back, but I can tell you not to look forward. Naj, 
 I do tell you literally, to look forward, out of the window, 
 instead of back into this hot room. Do not you think the 
 plane tree there looks very inviting ? Suppose we trans- 
 port Emily's drapery there, and I want to refresh my 
 memory with Spenser, I do not think I have touched him 
 since plane tree time last year.'' 
 
 " I believe Spenser and the plane tree are inseparably 
 woven together in your mind," said Lily. 
 
 " Yes, ever since the time when I first met with the 
 book. I remember well, roving over the book-case and 
 meeting with it, and taking it out there, for fear Eleanor 
 should see me and tell Mamma. Phyl, with ' As You 
 Like It,' put me much in mind of myself with that." 
 
 Claude talked in this manner, while Lily, listening with 
 a smile, prepared her work. He read, and she listened. 
 It was such a treat as she had not enjoyed for a long time, 
 for she had begun to think that all her pleasant reading 
 days were past. Her work prospered, and her face was 
 bright when her sisters came home. But, alas ! Emily was 
 not pleased with her performance ; she said that she in- 
 tended something quite different, and by manner, rather 
 than by words, indicated that she should not be satisfied, 
 unless Lily completely altered it. It was to be worn at the 
 Castle the next evening, and Lily knew she should have 
 
212 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 no time for it in the course of the day. Accordingly, at 
 half-past twelve, as Claude was going up to hed, he saw a 
 light under his sister's door, and knocked to ask the cause. 
 Lily was still at work upon the trimming, and very angry 
 he was, particularly when she begged him to take care not 
 disturb Emily. At last, by threatening to awake her, for 
 the express purpose of giving her a scolding, he made Lily 
 promise to go to bed immediately, a promise which she, 
 poor weary creature, was very glad to make. 
 
 Claude now resolved to tell his father the state of 
 things, for he well knew that though it was easy to ob- 
 tain a general promise from Emily, it was likely to be of 
 little effect in preventing her from spurring her willing 
 horse to death. 
 
 The next morning, he rose in time to join his father in 
 the survey which he usually took of his fields before break- 
 fast, and immediately beginning on the subject on which he 
 was anxious, he gave a full account of his sister's proceed- 
 ings. " In short," said he, " Emily and Ada torment 
 poor Lily every hour of her life ; she bears it all as a sort 
 of penance, and how it is to end I cannot tell." 
 
 " Unless," said Mr. Mohun, smiling, " as Rotherwood 
 would say, Jupiter will interfere. Well, Jupiter has begun 
 to take measures, and has asked Mrs. Weston to look out 
 for a governess. Eh ! Claude ? " he continued, after a 
 pause, " you set up your eyebrows, do you ? You think 
 it will be a bore. Very likely, but there is nothing else to 
 be done. Jane is under no control, Phyllis running wild, 
 A.da worse managed than any child of my acquaintance — " 
 
 " And poor Lily wearing herself to a shadow, in vain 
 attempts to mend matters," said Claude. 
 
 "If Lily was the eldest, things would be very dif- 
 ferent," said Mr. Mohun. 
 
DOUBLE DOUBLE TOIL AND TROUBLE. 213 
 
 " Or even if she liad been as wise last year as she is 
 now," said Claude, " she would have kept Emily in order 
 then, but now it is too late." 
 
 " This year is, on many accounts, much to be regret- 
 ted," said Mr. Mohun, " but I think it has brought out 
 Lily's character." 
 
 "And a very .fine character it is," said Claude. 
 
 " Very. She has been, and is, more childish than 
 Eleanor ever was, but she is her superior in most points. 
 She has been your pupil, Claude, and she does you cred- 
 it." 
 
 " Thereby hangs a tale which does me no credit," 
 muttered Claude, as he remembered how foolishly he had 
 roused her spirit of contradiction, besides the original 
 mischief of naming Eleanor the duenna ; " but we will 
 not enter into that now. I see this governess is their 
 best chance. Have you heard of one ? " 
 
 " Of several ; but the only one who seems likely to 
 suit us, is out of reach for the present, and I do not regret 
 it, for I shall not decide till Eleanor comes." 
 
 " Emily will not be much pleased," said Claude. " It 
 has long been her great dread that aunt Rotherwood 
 should recommend one." 
 
 " Aye, Emily's objections and your aunt's recommen- 
 dations are what I would gladly avoid," said Mr. Mohun. 
 
 " But, Lily ! " said Claude, returning to the subject on 
 which he was most anxious. " She is already what Ada 
 calls a nionotony, and there will be nothing left of her by 
 the time Eleanor comes, if matters go on in their present 
 fashion." 
 
 " I have a plan for her. A little change will set her 
 to rights, and we will take her to London, when we go 
 next week to meet Eleanor. She deserves a little extra 
 
214 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCKOFT. 
 
 pleasure ; you must take her under your protection, and 
 lionize her well." 
 
 " Trust me for that," said Claude. " It is the best 
 news I have heard for a long time." 
 
 " "Well, I am glad that one of my remedies meets with 
 your approbation," said his father, smiling. " For the 
 other, you are much inclined to pronounce the cure as bad 
 as the disease." 
 
 " Not for Lily," said Claude, laughing. 
 
 " And," said Mr. Mohun, " I think I can promise you 
 that a remedy will be found for all the other grievances 
 by Bliohaelmas." 
 
 Claude looked surprised, but as Mr. Mohun explained 
 no further, only observing upon the potatoes, through 
 which they were walking, he only said, " Then it is next 
 week that you go to London." 
 
 " There is much to do, both for E-otherwood, and for 
 Eleanor ; I shall go as soon as I can, but I do not think 
 it will be while this fever is so prevalent. I had rather 
 not be from home — I do not like Eobert's looks." 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE RECTOn's ILLNESS. 
 
 " Tliou drooping sick man, bless tlio guide 
 That chocked, or turned thy headstrong youth." 
 
 TaE thought of her brother's kindness, and the effect of 
 his consolation, made Lilias awake that morning in more 
 cheerful spirits ; but it was not long before grief and anx- 
 iety again took possession of her. 
 
DOUBLE DOUBLE TOIL AND TROUBLE. 215 
 
 The first sound that she heard on opening the school- 
 room window was the tolling of the Church bell, giving 
 notice of the death of another of those to whom she felt 
 bound by the ties of neighbourhood. 
 
 At Church, she saw that Mr. Devereux was looking 
 more ill than he had yet done, and it was plainly with 
 very great exertion that he succeeded in finishing the ser- 
 vice. The Mohun party waited, as usual, to speak to him 
 afterwards, for since his attendance upon Naylor had 
 begun, he had not thought it safe to come to the New 
 Court as usual, lest he should bring the infection to them. 
 He was very pale, and walked wearily, but he spoke cheer- 
 fully, as he told them that Naylor was now quite out of 
 danger. 
 
 " Then I hope you did not stay there all last night," 
 said Mr. Mohun. 
 
 " No, I did not, I was so tired when I came back from 
 poor John Ray's funeral, that I thought I would take a 
 holiday, and sleep at home.'' 
 
 " I am afraid you have not profited by your night's 
 rest," said Emily, " you look as if you had a horrible 
 headache." 
 
 " Now," said Mr. Mohun, " I prescribe for you, that 
 you go home and lie down. I am going to Raynham, and 
 I will tell your friend there that you want help for the 
 evening service. Do not think of moving again to-day. 
 I shall send Claude home with you to see that you obey my 
 prescription." 
 
 Claude went home with his cousin, and his sisters saw 
 him no more till late in the day, when he came to tell them 
 that Mr. Mohun had brought back Dr. Leslie from Rayn- 
 ham with him, that Dr. Leslie had seen Mr. Devereux, and 
 bad pronounced that he had certainly caught the fever. 
 
216 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEBCHCHOFT. 
 
 Lily Lad made up her mind to this for some time, but 
 Btill it seemed almost as great a blow as if it had come 
 without any preparation. The next day was the first Sun- 
 day that Mr. Devereux had not read the service since he 
 had been Rector of Beechcroft. The villagers looked 
 sadly at the stranger who appeared in his place, and many 
 tears were shed when the prayers of the congregation werf: 
 desired for Robert Devereux, and Thomas and Martha 
 Naylor. It was announced that the daily service would be 
 discontinued for the present, and Lily felt as if all the bless- 
 ings which she had misused were to be taken from her. 
 
 For some time Mr. Devereux continued very ill, and 
 Dr. Leslie gave little hope of his improvement. Mr. 
 Mohun and Claude were his constant attendants — an ad- 
 ditional cause of anxiety to the Miss Mohuns. Emily 
 was listless and melancholy, talking in a maundering, 
 dismal way, not calculated to brace her spirits or those of 
 her sisters. Jane was not without serious thoughts, but 
 whether they would benefit her depended on herself; for, 
 as we have seen by the events of the autumn, sorrow and 
 suffering do not necessarily produce good effects, though 
 some effects they always produce. 
 
 Thus it was with Lilias. Grief and anxiety aided her 
 "'in subduing her will and learning resignation. She did 
 not neglect her daily duties, but was more exact in their 
 fulfilment ; and low as her spirits had been before, she now 
 had an inward spring which enabled her to be the support 
 of the rest. She was useful to her father, always ready 
 to talk to Claude, or walk with him in the intervals when 
 he was sent out of the sick room to rest and breathe the 
 fresh air. She was cheerful and patient with Emily, and 
 devoid of petulance, when annoyed by the spirits of the 
 younger ones rising higher than accorded with the sad and 
 
THE rector's illness. 217 
 
 anxious hearts of their elders. Her most painful feeling 
 was, that it was possible that she might be punished 
 through her cousin, as she had already been through 
 Agnes ; that her follies might have brought this distress 
 upon every one, and that this was the price at which the 
 child's baptism was to be bought. Yet Lily would not 
 have changed her present thoughts for any of her varying 
 frames of mind since that fatal Whitsuntide. Better 
 feelings were springing up within her than she had then 
 known; the Church Service and Sunday were infinitely 
 more to her, and she was beginning to obtain peace of 
 mind independent of external things. 
 
 She could not help rejoicing to see how many evi- 
 dences of affection to the Rector were called forth by this 
 illness ; presents of fruit poured in from all quarters, from 
 Lord Eotherwood's choice hot-house grapes, to poor little 
 Kezia Grey's wood-strawberries; enquiries were continual, 
 and the stillness of the village was wonderful. There 
 was no cricket on the hill, no talking in the street, no 
 hallooing in the hay-field, and no burst of noise when the 
 children were let out of sohooL Many of the people were 
 themselves in grief for the loss of their own relations ; and 
 when on Sunday the Miss Mohuns saw how many were 
 dressed in black, they thought with a pang how soon they 
 themselves might be mourning for one whose influence they 
 had crippled, and whose plans they had thwarted during 
 the three short years of his ministry. 
 
 During this time, it was hard to say whether Lord 
 Rotherwood was more of a comfort or a torment. He 
 was attached to his cousin with all the ardor of his afiec- 
 tionate disposition, and not one day passed without his 
 appearing at Beechcroft. At first, it was always in the 
 parlor at the Parsonage, that he took up hi^ station, and 
 10 
 
218 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHOBOFT. 
 
 waited till lie could find some means of getting at Claude 
 or his uncle, to hear the last report from them, and if 
 possible to make Claude come out for a walk or ride with 
 him. And once Mr. Mohun caught him standing just 
 outside Mr. Devereux's door, waiting for an opportunity to 
 make an entrance. He could not, or would not see why 
 Mr. Mohun should allow Claude to run the risk of infec- 
 tion rather than himself, and thus he kept his mother in 
 continual anxiety, and even his uncle could not feel by any 
 means certain that he would not do something imprudent. 
 At last, a promise was extracted from him that he would 
 not again enter the Parsonage, but he would not gratify 
 Lady Eotherwood as far as to abstain from going to 
 Beechoroft, a place which she began to regard with horror. 
 He now was almost constantly at the New Court, talking 
 over the reports, and quite provoking Emily by never de- 
 sponding and never choosing to perceive how bad things 
 really were. Every day which was worse than the last 
 was supposed to be the crisis, and every restless sleep that 
 they heard of, he interpreted into the beginning of recov- 
 ery. At last, however, after ten days of suspense, the re- 
 port began to improve, and Claude came to the New Court 
 with a more cheerful face, to say that his cousin was 
 really much better. The world seemed immediately to 
 grow brighter, people went about with joyful looks. Lord 
 Rotherwood declared that from the first he had known all 
 would be well, and Lily began to hope that now that she 
 had been spared so heavy a punishment, it was a kind of 
 earnest that other things would mend, that she had suf- 
 fered enough. The future no longer hung before her in 
 such dark colours as before Mr. Devereux's illness, though 
 still the New Court was in no satisfactory state, and still 
 ehe had reason to expect that her father and Eleanor would 
 
THE LITTLE NEPHEW. . 219 
 
 be disappointud and grieved. Thankfulness tliat Mr. 
 Devereux was recovering, and tliat Claude had escaped the 
 infection, made her once more hopeful and cheerful ; she let 
 the morrow take thought for the things of itself, rejoic- 
 ing that it was not her business to make arrangements. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE LITTLE NEPHEW. 
 
 " Ton must be father, mother, both, 
 And undo, all in one." 
 
 Mr. Mohun had much business to transact in London 
 which he could not leave undone, and as soon as his nephew 
 began to recovar, he thought of setting off to meet Kr. 
 and Mrs. Hawkesworth, who had already been a -Reek tt 
 Lady Eotherwood's house in Grosvenor Square, -which she 
 had lent to them for the occasion. Claude had intended 
 to stay at home, as his cousin was not yet well enough to 
 leave the room ; but just at this time, a college friend of 
 the Rector's, hearing of his illness, wrote to propose to 
 come and stay with him for a month or six weeks, and 
 help him in serving his Church. Mr. Devereux was par- 
 ticularly glad to accept this kind offer, as it left him no 
 longer dependent on Mr. Stephens and the Eaynham 
 curates, and set Claude at liberty for the London expe- 
 dition. All was settled in the short space of one day. 
 The very next they were to set off, and in great haste , 
 Lily did all she could for the regulation of the house, 
 packed up her goods, and received the commissions of her 
 sisters. 
 
2f!0 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 Ada gave her six shillings, with orders to buy either a 
 doll or a hook, — the former, if Eleanor did not say it was 
 silly; and Phyllis put into her hands a weighty crown 
 piece, begging for as many things as it could buy. Jane's 
 wants and wishes were moderate and sensible, and she gave 
 Lily the money for them. With Emily there was more 
 difficulty. All Lily's effiDrts had not availed to prevent 
 her from contracting two debts at Raynham. More than 
 four pounds she owed to Lily, and this she offered to pay 
 her, giving her at the same time a list of commissions suf- 
 ficient to swallow up double her quarter's allowance. Lily^ 
 though really in want of the money for her own use, 
 thought the debts at Raynham so serious, that she begged 
 Emily to let her wait for payment till it was convenient, 
 and to pay the shoemaker and dress-maker immediately. 
 
 Emfly thanked her, and promised to do so as soon as 
 she could go to Raynham, and Lily next attempted to re- 
 duco her list of London commissions to something more 
 reasonable. In part she succeeded, but it remained a 
 matter of speculation how all the necessary articles which 
 she had to buy for herself, and all Emily's various orders, 
 were to come out of her own means, reduced as they were 
 by former loans. 
 
 The next day Lilias was on her way to London ; feel- 
 ing, as she left Beechoroft, that it was a great relief 
 the school-room and store-room could not follow her. She 
 was sorry that she should miss seeing Alethea Weston, 
 who was to come home the next day, but she left various 
 messages for her, and an affectionate note, and had received 
 a promise from her sisters that the copy of the music 
 should be given to her the first day that they saw her. 
 Her journey afforded her much amusement, and it was not 
 till towards the end of the day that she had much time for 
 
THE LITTLK NErHEW. 221 
 
 thinking, when, her companions being sleepily inclined, 
 she was left to her own meditations and to a dull country 
 She began to revolve her own feelings towards Eleanor, 
 and as she remembered the contempt and ingratitude she 
 had once expressed, she shrank from the meeting with 
 shame and dread, and knew that she should feel reproached 
 by Eleanor's wonted calmness of manner. And as she 
 mused upon all that Eleanor had endured, and all that she 
 had done, such a reverence for suffering and sacrifice took 
 possession of her mind that she was ready to look up to 
 her sister with awe. She began to recollect old reproofs, 
 and found herself sitting more upright, and examining the 
 sit of the folds of her dress with some uneasiness, at the 
 thought of Eleanor's preciseness. In the midst of her 
 meditations her two companions were roused by the slack- 
 ening speed of the train, and starting up, informed her that 
 they were arriving at their journey's end. The next min- 
 ute she heard her father consigning her and the umbrellas 
 to Mr. Hawkesworth's care, and all was bewilderment till 
 she found herself in the hall of her aunt's house, receiving 
 as warm and affectionate a greeting from Eleanor, as Emily 
 herself could have bestowed. 
 
 " And the baby, Eleanor." 
 
 " Asleep, but you shall see Mm ; and how is Ada ? and 
 all of them ? why, Claude, how well you look ! Papa, let 
 me help you to take off your great coat — ^you are cold — 
 will you have a fire ? " 
 
 Never had Lily heard Eleanor say so much in a 
 breath, or seen her eye so bright, or her smile so ready, 
 yet, when she entered the drawing-room, she saw that 
 Mrs. Hawkesworth was still the Eleanor of old. In con- 
 trast with the splendid furniture of the apartments, a pile 
 of shirts was on the table, Eleanor's well-known work-bas- 
 
222 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 ket on the floor, and the ceaseless knitting close at 
 hand. . 
 
 Much news was exchanged in the few minutes that 
 elapsed before Eleanor carried oif her sister to her room, 
 indulging her by the way with a peep at little Harry, and 
 one kiss to his round red cheek as he lay asleep in his little 
 bed. It was not Eleanor's fault that she did not entirely 
 dress Lily, and unpack her wardrobe ; but Lilias liked to 
 show that she could manage for herself, and Eleanor's 
 praise of her neat arrangements gave her as much pleasure 
 as in days of yore. 
 
 The evening passed very happily. Eleanor's heart 
 was open, she was full of enjoyment at meeting those she 
 loved, and the two sisters sat long together in the twilight 
 talking over numerous subjects, all ending in Beechoroft or 
 the baby. 
 
 Yet when Lily awoke the next morning, her awe of 
 Eleanor began to return, and she felt like a child just 
 returned to school. She was however mistaken , Eleanor 
 assumed no authority, she treated Lily as her equal, and 
 thus made her feel more like a woman than she had ever 
 done before. Lily thought either that Eleanor was much 
 altered, or that in her folly she must have fancied her far 
 more cold and grave than she really was. She had how- 
 ever no time for studying her character ; shopping and 
 sight-seeing filled up most of her time, and the remainder 
 was spent in resting, and in playing with little Henry. 
 
 One evening, when Mr. Mohun and Claude were 
 dining out, Lilias was left alone with Mr. and Mrs. 
 Hawkesworth. Lily was very tired, but she worked 
 steadily at marking Eleanor's pocket-handkerchiefs, until 
 her sister, seeing how weary she was, made her lie down 
 on the sofa. 
 
THE LITTLE NEPHEW. 223 
 
 " Here is a gentleman who is tired, too," said Eleanor, 
 dancing tlie baby ; " we will carry you off, sir, and leave 
 aunt Lily to go to sleep." 
 
 " Aunt Lily is not so tired as that," said Lily ; " pray 
 keep him." 
 
 " It is quite bed-time," said Eleanor, in her decided 
 tone, and she carried him off. 
 
 Lilias took up the knitting which she had laid down, 
 and began to study the stitches. "I should like this 
 feathery pattern," said she, " (if it did not remind me so 
 much of the fever) ; but, by the bye, Frank, have you 
 completed Master Henry's outfit ? I looked forward to 
 helping to choose his pretty little things, but I see no 
 preparation, but of stockings." 
 
 " Why, Lily, did not you know that he was to stay in 
 England ? " 
 
 " To stay in England ? No, I never thought of that — 
 how sorry you must be." 
 
 At this moment Eleanor returned, and Mr. Ilawkos- 
 worth told her he had been surprised to find Lily did not 
 know their intentions with regard to the baby. 
 
 " If we had any certain intentions, we should have told 
 her," said Eleanor ; " I did not wish to speak to her about 
 it till we had made up our minds." 
 
 " Well, I know no use in mysteries," said Mr. Hawkes- 
 worth, " especially when Lily may help us to decide." 
 
 " On his going or staying?" exclaimed Lily, eagerly 
 looking to Mr. Hawkesworth, who was evidently more 
 disposed to speak than his wife. 
 
 " Not on his going or staying — I am sorry to say that 
 point was settled long ago — ^but where we shall leave him.'' 
 
 Lily's heart beat high, but she did not speak. 
 
 " The truth is," proceeded Mr. Hawkesworth, " that 
 
224 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 this young gentleman has, as perhaps you know, a grand 
 papa, a grandmamma, and also six or seven aunts. With 
 his grandmamma he cannot be left, for sundry reasons, 
 unnecessary to mention. Now, one of his aunts is a staid 
 matronly lady, and his godmother besides, and in all re- 
 spects the person to take charge of him, only she lives in 
 , a small house in a town, and has plenty of babies of her 
 own, without being troubled with other people's. Master 
 Henry's other five aunts live in one great house, in a 
 delightful country, with nothing to do but make much of 
 him all day long, yet it is averred, that these said aunts 
 are a parcel of giddy young colts, amongst whom, if Hen- 
 ry escapes being demolished as a baby, he will infalli- 
 bly be spoilt as he grows up. Now, how are we to 
 decide ? " 
 
 " You have heard the true state of the case, Lily," 
 said Mrs. Hawkesworth. "I did not wish to harass Papa, 
 by speaking to him, till something was settled ; you are 
 certainly old enough to have an opinon." 
 
 " Yes, Lily," said Frank ; "do you think that the hos- 
 pitable New Court will open to receive our poor deserted 
 child, and that these said aunts are not wild colts, but dis- 
 creet damsels ? " 
 
 Playful as Mr. Hawkesworth's manner was, Lily saw 
 the earnestness that was veiled under it ; she felt the so- 
 lemnity of Eleanor's appeal, and knew that this was no 
 time to let herself be swayed by her wishes. There was a 
 silence. At last, after a great struggle, Lily's better judg- 
 ment gained the mastery, and raising her head, she said, 
 " Oh ! Frank, do not ask me — I wish — but Eleanor, when 
 you see how much harm we have done, how utterly we 
 have failed — " 
 
 Lily's newly acquired habits of self-command enabled 
 
THE LITTLE NEPHEW. 225 
 
 her to subdue a violent fit of sobbing, which she felt im- 
 pending, but her tears flowed quietly down her cheeks. 
 
 " Remember," said Frank, " those who mistrust them- 
 selves, are the most trustworthy." 
 
 " No, Frank, it is uot only the feeling of the greatness 
 of the charge, it is the knowledge that we are not fit for it 
 — that our own faults have forfeited such happiness." 
 
 Again Lily was choked with tears. 
 
 " Well," said Frank, " we shall judge at Beechcroft. 
 At all events, one of those aunts is to be respected." 
 
 Eleanor added her " Very right." 
 
 This kindness on the part of her brother-in-law, which 
 Lily felt to be undeserved, caused her tears to flow faster, 
 find Eleanor seeing her quite overcome, led her out of the 
 room, helped her to undress, and put her to bed, with ten- 
 derness such as Lily had never experienced from her, ex- 
 cepting in illness. 
 
 In spite of bitter regrets, when she thought of the hap- 
 piness it would have been to keep her little nephew, and 
 of importunate and disappointing hopes that Mrs Ridley 
 would find it impossible to receive him, Lily felt that she 
 had done right, and had made a real sacrifice for duty's 
 sake. No more was said on the subject, and Lily was very 
 grateful to Eleanor for maldng no inquiries, which she 
 could not have answered without blaming Emily. 
 
 Sight-seeing prospered very well under Claude's guid- 
 ance, and Lily's wonder and delight was a constant source 
 of amusement to her friends. Her shopping was more of 
 a care than a pleasure, for in spite of the handsome equip- 
 ments which Mr. Mohun presented to all his daughters, it 
 was impossible to contract Emily's requirements within the 
 limits of what ought to be her expenditure, and the dif- 
 ferent views of her brother and sister were rather trouble- 
 10* 
 
226 EIGHTEEN MOKTHS AT BEECHOROFT. 
 
 some in this matter. Claude hated the search for ladies 
 finery, and if drawn into it, insisted on alwa,ys taking her 
 to the grandest and most expensive shops ; while on the 
 other hand, though Eleanor liked to hunt up cheap thing,* 
 and good bargains, she had such rigid ideas about plain- 
 ness of dress, that there was little chance that what she 
 approved would satisfy Emily. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME. 
 
 "Suddenly, a mighty jerk 
 A mighty mischief did." 
 
 In the meantime, Emily and Jane went on very prosper- 
 ously at home, looking forward to the return of the rest of 
 the party, on Saturday, the 17th of July. In this, how- 
 ever, they were doomed to disappointment, for neither Mr. 
 Mohun nor Mr. Hawkesworth could wind up their affairs 
 so as to return before the 24th. Maurice's holidays com- 
 menced on Monday, the 19th, and Claude offered to go 
 home on the same day, and meet him, but in a general 
 council it was determined to the contrary. Claude was 
 wanted to stay for a concert on Thursday, and both Mr. 
 Mohun and Eleanor thought Maurice, without Eeginald, 
 would not be formidable for a few days. 
 
 At first, he seemed to justify this opinion. He did 
 not appear to have any peculiar pursuit, unless such might 
 be called a very earnest attempt to make Phyllis desist 
 from her favourite preface of " I'll tell you what," and to 
 
CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME. 227 
 
 reform lier habit of saying, " Please," instead of " if you 
 please." He walked with the sisters, carried messages 
 for Mr. Devcreux, performed some neat little bits of car- 
 pentry, and was very useful and agreeable. 
 
 On Wednesday afternoon. Lord Kotherwood and Flor- 
 ence called, their heads the more full of the 30th, because 
 the Marquis had not once thought of it while Mr. Deve- 
 reus was ill. Among tha intended diversions, fireworks 
 were mentioned, and from that moment, rockets, wheels, 
 and serpents, commenced a wild career through Maurice's 
 brain. Through the whole evening he searched for books 
 on what he was pleased to call the art of Pyrotechnics, 
 studied them aU Wednesday, and the next morning an- 
 nounced his intention of making some fireworks on a new 
 plan. 
 
 " No, you must not," said Emily, " you will be sure to 
 do mischief." 
 
 " I am going to ask Wat for some powder," was Mau- 
 rice's reply, and he walked off. 
 
 " Stop him, Jane, stop him," cried Emily. " Nothing 
 can be so dangerous. Tell him how angry Papa would 
 be." 
 
 Though Jane highly esteemed her brother's discretion, 
 she did not much like the idea of his touching powder, and 
 she ran after him to suggest that he had better wait till 
 Papa's return. 
 
 " Then Redgie will be at home," said Maurice, " and I 
 could not be answerable for the consequence of such a 
 careless fellow touching powder." 
 
 This great proo^ of caution quite satisfied Jane, but 
 not so Wat Greenwood, who proved himself a faithful 
 servant, by refusing to let Master Maurice have one grain 
 of gunpowder, without express leave from the squire. 
 
228 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEEOHCROFT. 
 
 Maurice then had recourse to Jane, and his power over hev 
 was such as to triumph over strong sense and weak notions 
 of obedience, so that she was prevailed upon to supply 
 him with the means of making the dangerous and forbid 
 den purchase. 
 
 Emily was both annoyed and alarmed, when she found 
 that the gunpowder was actually in the house, and she 
 even thought of sending a note to the parsonage to beg 
 Mr. Devereux to speak to Maurice ; but Jane had gone 
 over to the enemy, and Emily never could do any thing 
 unsupported. Besides, she neither liked to aifront Mau- 
 rice, nor to confess herself unable to keep him in order ; 
 and she, therefore, tried to put the whole matter out of her 
 head, in the thoughts of an expedition to Raynham, which 
 she was about to make in the manner she best liked, with 
 Jane in the close carriage, and the horses reluctantly 
 spared from their farm work. 
 
 As they were turning the corner of the lane, they 
 overtook Phyllis and Adeline, on their way to the school 
 with some work, and Emily stopped the carriage, to desire 
 them to send off a letter which she had left on the chimney- 
 piece in the school-room. Then proceeding to Raynham, 
 they made their visits, paid Emily's debts, performed their 
 commissions, and met the carriage again at the bookseller's 
 shop, at the end of about two hours. 
 
 " Look here, Emily ! " exclaimed Jane. " Read this I 
 can it be Mrs. Aylmer ? " 
 
 " The truly charitable," said Emily, contemptuously. 
 " Mrs. Aylmer is above — " 
 
 " But read. It says ' unbeneficed clergyman, and de- 
 ceased nobleman,' and who can that be but uncle Rother- 
 wood and Mr. Aylmer ? " 
 
CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME. 229 
 
 "Well, let us see," said Emily, "those things are 
 always amusing." 
 
 It was an appeal to the " truly charitable," from the 
 friends of the widow of an unbeneficed clergyman of the 
 diocese, one of whose sons had, it was said, by the kind- 
 ness of a deceased nobleman, received the promise of an 
 appointment in India, of which he was unable to avail 
 himself, for want of the funds needful for his outfit. This 
 appeal was, it added, made without the knowledge of the 
 afflicted lady, but further particulars might be learnt by 
 application to E. F. No. 5, West Street, Kaynham. 
 
 " E. F. is plainly that bustling, little, old Miss Fitchett, 
 who wrote to Papa for some subscription," said Emily. 
 " You know she is a regular beggar, always doing these 
 kind of things, but I never can believe that Mrs. Aylmer 
 would consent to appear in this manner." 
 
 " Ah ! but it says without her knowledge," said Jane. 
 " Don't you remember Kotherwood's lamenting that they 
 were forgotten ? " 
 
 " Yes, it is shocking," said Emily ; " the clergyman 
 that married Papa and Mamma ! " 
 
 " Ask Mr. Adams what he knows," said Jane. 
 
 Emily accordingly applied to the bookseller, and learnt 
 that Mrs. Aylmer was indeed the person intended. 
 " Something must be done," said she, returning to Jane. 
 " Our name wiU be a help." 
 
 " Speak to aunt Rotherwood," said Jane. " Or sup- 
 pose we apply to Miss Fitchett, we should have time to 
 drive that way." 
 
 "I am sure I shall not go to Miss Fitchett," saic' 
 Emily, " she only longs for an excuse to visit us. Whal 
 can you be thinking of? Lend me your pencil, Jenny, 
 if you please.'" 
 
230 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 And Emily wrote down, " Miss Mohun, £5," and 
 handed to the bookseller all that she possessed towards 
 paying her just debts to Lilias. While she was writing, 
 Jane had turned towards the window, and suddenly 
 exclaiming, " There is Ben ! Oh ! that gunpowder 1 " 
 darted out of the shop. She had seen the groom on horse- 
 back, and the next moment she was asking breathlessly, 
 " Is it Maurice ? " 
 
 " No, Miss Jane ; but Miss Ada is badly burnt, and 
 Master Maurice sent me to fetch Mr. Saunders." 
 
 " How did it happen ? " 
 
 " I can't say, Miss ; the school-room has been on fire, 
 and Master Maurice said the young ladies had got at the 
 gunpowder." 
 
 Emily had just arrived at the door, looking dreadfully 
 pale, and followed by numerous kind offers of salts, and 
 glasses of water ; but Jane, perceiving that at least she 
 had strength to get into the carriage, refused them all, 
 helped her in, and with instant decision, desired to be 
 driven to the surgeon's. Emily obeyed like a child, and 
 threw herself back in the carriage, without a word ; Jane 
 trembled like an aspen leaf, but her higher spirit took 
 the lead, and very sensibly she managed, stopping at Mr. 
 Saunders' door to offer to take him to Beechcroft, and 
 getting a glass of sal volatile for Emily while they were 
 waiting for him. His presence was a great relief, for 
 Emily's natural courtesy made her exert herself, and thus 
 warded off much that would have been very distressing. 
 
 In the meantime, we will return to Beechcroft, where 
 Emily's request respecting her letter had occasioned some 
 discussion between the little girls, as they returned from a 
 walk with Marianne. Phyllis thought that Emily meant 
 them to wafer the letter, since they were under strict 
 
CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME. 231 
 
 orders never to touoli fire or candle ; but Ada argued that 
 they were to seal it, and that permission to light a candle 
 was implied in the order. At last, Phyllis hoped the mat- 
 ter might be settled by asking Maurice to seal the letter, 
 and meeting him at the front door, she began, unfortu- 
 nately, with " Please Maurice — " 
 
 " I never listen to any thing beginning with please," 
 said Maurice, who was in a great hurry, " only don't touch 
 my powder." 
 
 Away he went, deaf to all his sister's shouts of " Mau- 
 rice, Maurice," and they went in, Ada not sorry to be un- 
 heard, as she was bent on the grand exploit of lighting a 
 lucifer match, but Phyllis still pleading for the wafer. 
 They found the school-room strewed with Maurice's prepa- 
 rations for fireworks, and Emily's letter on the chimney- 
 piece. 
 
 " Let us take the letter down stairs, and put on a 
 wafer," said Phyllis. " Won't you come, Ada ? " 
 
 " No, the stamps are here, and so are the matches, I 
 can do it easily." 
 
 " But Ada, Ada, it would be naughty. Only wait, 
 and I will show you such a pretty wafer that I know of in 
 the drawing-room. I will run and fetch it." 
 
 Phyllis went, and Ada stood a few moments in doubt, 
 looking at the letter. The recollection of duty was not 
 strong enough to balance the temptation, and she took up 
 a match, and drew it along the sand-paper. It did not 
 light — a second pull, and the flame appeared more sud- 
 denly than she had expected, while at the same mo- 
 ment, the lock of the door turned, and fancying it was 
 Maurice, she started, and dropped the match. Phyllis 
 opened the door, heard a loud explosion and a scream, saw 
 a bright flash, and a cloud of smoke. She started back, 
 
232 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 but the next moment again opened the door, and ran for- 
 ward. Hannah rushed in at the same time, and caught up 
 Ada, who had fallen to the ground. A light in the midst 
 of the smoke made Phyllis turn, and she heheld the 
 papers on the table on fire. Maurice's powder horn was 
 in the midst, but the flames had not yet reached it, and, 
 mindful of Claude's story, she sprung forward, caught it 
 up, and dashed it through the window ; she felt the glow 
 of the fire upon her cheek, and stood still as if stunned, 
 till Hannah carried Ada out of the room, and screamed to 
 her to come away, and call Joseph. The table was now 
 one sheet of flame, and Phyllis flew to the pantry, where 
 she gave the summons in almost inaudible tones. The 
 servants hurried to the spot, and she was left alone and 
 bewildered ; she ran hither and thither in confusion, till she 
 met Hannah, eagerly asking for Master Maurice, and saying 
 that the surgeon must be instantly sent for, as Ada's face 
 and neck were badly burnt. Phyllis ran down, calling 
 Maurice, and at length met him at the front door, looking 
 much frightened, and asking for Ada. 
 
 " Oh ! Maurice, her face and neck are burnt, and 
 badly. She does scream — " 
 
 " Did I not tell you not to meddle with the powder? " 
 said Maurice. 
 
 " Indeed, I could not help it," said Phyllis. 
 
 " Stuff and nonsense ! It is very well that you have 
 not killed Ada, and I think that would have made you 
 sorry." 
 
 Phyllis with diiEoulty mentioned Hannah's desire that 
 a surgeon should be sent for : Maurice went to look for 
 Ben, and she followed him. Then he began asking how 
 she had done the mischief. 
 
CHARiry BEGINS AT HOME. 233 
 
 " I do not know," said she, " I do not much think I 
 did it." 
 
 " Mind, you can't humbug me. Did you not gay that 
 you touched the powder ? " 
 
 " Yes, but—" 
 
 " No buts," said Maurice, making the most of his brief 
 authority. " I hate felse excuses. What were you doin^ 
 when it exploded ? " 
 
 " Coming into the room.'' 
 
 " Oh ! that accounts for it," said Maurice, " the slight- 
 est vibration causes an explosion of that sort of rocket, 
 and of course it was your bouncing into the room ! You 
 have had a lesson against rushing about the house. Come, 
 though, cheer u^, Phyl, it is a bad busmess, but it might 
 have been worse ; you will know better next time. Don't 
 cry, Phyl, I will explain to you all about the patent 
 rocket." 
 
 " But do you really think that I blew up Ada ? " 
 
 " Blew up Ada I caused the powder to ignite. The 
 inflammable matter — " 
 
 As he spoke, he followed Phyllis to the nursery, and 
 there was so much shocked, that he could no longer lord it 
 over her, but shrinking back, shut himself into his room, 
 and bolted the door. 
 
 Nearly an hour passed away before the arrival of 
 EmUy, Jane, and Mr. Saimders. Phyllis ran down, and 
 meeting them at the door, exclaimed ; " Oh ! Emily, poor 
 Ada! I am so sorry." 
 
 The sisters hurried past her to the nursery, where Ada 
 was lying on the bed, half undressed, and her face, neck, 
 and arm, such a spectacle, that Emily turned away, ready 
 to faint. Mr. Saunders was summoned, and Phyllis thrust 
 out of the room. She sat down on the step of the stairs, 
 
234 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 resting her forehead on her knees, and trembling, listened 
 to the sounds of voices, and the screams which now and 
 then reached her ears. After a time, she was startled by 
 hearing herself called from the stairs below, by a voice 
 which she had not heard for many weeks, and springing 
 up, saw Mr. Devereux leaning on the banisters. The 
 great change in his appearance frightened her almost as 
 much as the accident itself, and she stood looking at him 
 without speaking. " Phyllis," said he, in a voice hoarse 
 with agitation, " what is it ? tell me at once." 
 
 She could not speak, and her wild and frightened air 
 might well give him great alarm. She pointed to the nursery, 
 and put her finger to her lips, and he, beckoning to her to 
 follow him, went down stairs, and turning into the draw- 
 ing-room, said, as he sank down upon the sofa, " Now, 
 Phyllis, what has happpened? " 
 
 " The gunpowder — I made it go off, and it has burnt 
 poor Ada's face ! Mr. Saunders is there, and she 
 screams — " 
 
 Phyllis finding herself ready to roar, left off speaking, 
 and laying her head on the table, burst into an agony of 
 crying, while Mr. Devereux was too much exhausted to 
 address her ; at last she exclaimed : " I hear the nursery- 
 door, he is going ! ' 
 
 She flew to the door, and listened, and then called out, 
 " Emily, Jane, here is cousin Robert ! " 
 
 Jane came down, leaving Emily to finish hearing Mr. 
 Saunders' directions. She was even more shocked at her 
 cousin's looks than Phyllis had been, and though she tried 
 to speak cheerfully, her manner scarcely agreed with her 
 words. " It is all well, Robert, I am sorry you have been 
 so frightened. It is but a slight afiair, though it looks so 
 shocking. There is no danger. But, oh, Robert ! you 
 
CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME. 235 
 
 ought not to be hero. What shall wc do for you ? you 
 are quite knocked up." 
 
 " Oh ! no," said Blr. Deyereux, " I am only a little 
 out of breath. A terrible report came to me, and I set 
 off to learn the truth. I should like to hear what Mr. 
 Saunders says of her." 
 
 " I will call him in here before he goes," said Jane ; 
 " how tired you are ; you have not been out before." 
 
 " Only to the gate to speak to Rotherwood yesterday, 
 and prevent him from coming in," said Mr. Dcvcreux, 
 " but I have great designs for Sunday. They come home 
 to-morrow, do not they ? " 
 
 Jane was much relieved by hearing her cousin talk in 
 this manner, and answered, " Yes, and a dismal coming 
 home it wUl be; it is too late to let them know." 
 
 Mr. Saunders now entered, and gave a very favourable 
 account of the patient, saying, that even the scars would 
 probably disappear in a few weeks. His gig had come 
 from Raynham, and he offered to set Mr. Devereux down 
 at the Pai-sonage ; a proposal which the latter was very 
 glad to accept. Emily and Jane had leisure, when they 
 were gone, to inquire into the manner of the accident. 
 Phyllis answered that Maurice said that her banging the 
 door had made the powder go off. Jane then asked where 
 Maurice was, and Phyllis reporting that he was in his own 
 room, she repaired thither, and knocked twice without 
 receiving any answer. On her call, however, he opened 
 the door ; she saw that he had been in tears, and hastened 
 to tell him Mr. Saunders' opinion. He fastened the door 
 again as soon as she had entered. " If I could have 
 thought it ! " sighed he. " Fool that I was, not to lock 
 the door ! " 
 
236 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 " Then you were not there ? Phyllis says that she 
 did it by banging the door. Is not that nonsense ? " 
 
 " Not at all. Did I not read to you in the Year Book 
 of Facts about the patent signal rockets which explode 
 with the least vibration, even when a carriage goes by ? 
 Now, mine was on the same principle. I was making an 
 experiment on the ingredients , I did not expect to suc- 
 ceed the first time, and so I took no precautions. Well ! 
 Pyrotechnics are a dangerous science ! Next time I study 
 them it shall be at the work-shop at the Old Court." 
 
 Maurice was sincerely sorry for the consequence of his 
 disobedience, and would have been much to be pitied had 
 it not been for his secret satisfaction in the success of his 
 art. He called his sister into the school-room to explain 
 how it had happened. The room was a dismal sight, 
 blackened with smoke, and flooded with water, the table 
 and part of the floor charred, a mass of burnt paper in 
 the midst, and a stifling smell of fire. A pane of glass 
 was shattered, and Maurice ran down to the lawn to see 
 if he could find any thing there to account for it. The 
 next moment he returned, the powder-horn in his hand. 
 " See, Jenny, how fortunate that this was driven through 
 the window with the force of the explosion. The whole 
 place might have been blown to atoms with such a quan- 
 tity as this." 
 
 " Then what was it that blew up ? " asked Jane. 
 
 " What I had put out for my rocket, about two ounces. 
 If this half-pound had gone, there is no saying what 
 might have happened." 
 
 " Now, Maurice," said Jane, " I must go back to Ada, 
 and will you run down to the Parsonage with a parcel, 
 directed to Eobert, that you will find in the hall ? " 
 
 This was a device to occupy Maurice, who, as Jane 
 
CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME. 237 
 
 saw, was BO restless and unhappy, that she did not like to 
 leave him, much as she was wanted elsewhere. He went, 
 but afraid to see his cousin, only left the parcel at the 
 door. As he was going back he heard a shout, and look- 
 ing round, saw Lord Rotherwood mounted on Cedric, his 
 most spirited horse, galloping up the lane. " Maurice ! " 
 cried he, " what is all this? they say the New Court is 
 blown up, and you and half the girls killed, but I hope 
 one part is as true as the other." 
 
 " Nobody is hurt but Ada," said Maurice, " but her 
 face is a good deal burnt." 
 
 "Eh? then she won't be fit for the 30th, poor child 1 
 tell me how it was, make haste. I heard it from Mr. 
 Burnet as I came down to dinner. We have a dozen 
 people at dinner. I told him not to mention it to my 
 mother, and rode oflf to hear the truth. Make haste, half 
 the people were come when I set off." 
 
 The horse's caperings so discomposed Maurice that he 
 could scarcely collect his wits enough to answer : " Some 
 signal rockets on a new principle — detonating powder, 
 composed of oxymuriate — Oh ! Rotherwood, take care ! " 
 
 " Speak sense, and go on." 
 
 " Then Phyllis came in, banged the door, and the 
 vibration caused the explosion," said Maurice, scared into 
 finishing promptly. 
 
 " Eh ! banging the door ? You had better not tell 
 that story at school." 
 
 " But, Rotherwood, the deton — Oh ! that horse — you 
 wiUbe off!" 
 
 " Not half so dangerous as patent rockets. Is Emily 
 satisfied with such stuff? " 
 
 " Don't you know that fulminating silver — " 
 
 " What does Robert Deveroux say ? " 
 
238 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 " Eeally, Rotherwood, I could show you — " 
 
 " Show me ? No ; if rockets are so perilous I shall 
 have nothing to do with them. Stand still, Cedrio ! Just 
 tell me about Ada. Is there much harm done ? " 
 
 " Her face is scorched a good deal, but they say it will 
 soon be right." 
 
 " I am glad — we will send to inquire to-morrow, but I 
 cannot come — ha, ha I a new infernal machine. Good 
 bye, Friar Bacon." 
 
 Away he went, and Maurice stood looking after him 
 with complacent disdain. " There they go, Cedric and 
 Rotherwood, equally well provided with brains 1 What is 
 the use of talking science to either ? " 
 
 It was late when he reached the house, and his two 
 sisters shortly came down to tea, with news that Adeline 
 was asleep, and Phyllis was going to bed. The accident 
 was again talked over. 
 
 ""Well," said Emily, " I do not understand it, but I 
 suppose Papa will." 
 
 " The telling Papa is a bad part of the affair, with Wil- 
 liam and Eleanor there too," said Jane. 
 
 " I do not mean to speak to Phyllis about it again," 
 said Emily, " it makes her cry so terribly." 
 
 " It will come out fast enough," sighed Maurice. 
 " Good night." 
 
 More than once in the course of the night did poor 
 Phyllis wake and cry, and the next day was the most 
 wretched she had ever spent ; she was not allowed to stay 
 in the nursery, and the school-room was uninhabitable, so 
 she wandered listlessly about the garden, sometimes creep- 
 ing down to the Churchyard, where she looked up at the 
 old tower, or pondered over the graves, and sometimes for- 
 getting her troubles in converse with the dogs, in counting 
 
CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME. 239 
 
 tKe rings in the inside of a foxgtoTe flower, or in rescuing 
 tadpoles stranded on the broad leaf of a water-lily. 
 
 Her sisters and brother were not less forlorn. - Emily 
 sighed and lamented ; Adeline was feverish and petulant ; 
 and Jane toiled in vain to please and soothe both, and to 
 comfort Maurice ; but with all her good-temper and good- 
 nature, she had not the spirit which alone could enable her 
 to be a comfort to any one. Ada whined, fretted, and 
 was disobedient, and from Maurice she met nothing but 
 rebuffs ; he was silent and sullen, and spent most of the 
 day in the workshop, slowly planing scraps of deal board, 
 and watching with a careless eye the curled shavings float 
 to the ground. 
 
 In the course of the afternoon, Alethea and Marianne 
 came to inquire after the patient. Jane came down to 
 them and talked very fast, but when they asked for a fur- 
 ther explanation of the cause of the accident, Jane declared 
 that Maurice said it was impossible that any one who did 
 not understand chemistry, should know how it happened, 
 and Alethea went away, strongly reminded that it was no 
 affair of hers. 
 
 Notes passed between the New Court and the Vicar- 
 age, but Mr. Devereux was feeling the effect of his yes- 
 terday's exertion too much to repeat it, and no persuasion 
 of the sisters could induce Maurice to visit him. 
 
240 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE BARONIAL COURT. 
 
 " sun in his eyes liis soul revealing, 
 He dreams not, knows not of concealing, 
 Does all he does with single mind, 
 And thinks of others that are kind." 
 
 The travellers were expected to arrive at about seveo 
 o'clock in the evening, and in accordance with a well- 
 known taste of Eleanor's, Emily had ordered no dinner, 
 but a substantial meal under the name of tea. When the 
 sound of carriage wheels was heard, Jane was with 
 Adeline, Maurice in his retreat at the Old Court, and it 
 was with no cheerful alacrity that Emily went alone into 
 the hall. Phyllis was already at the front door, and the 
 instant Mr. Mohun sot foot on the threshold, her hand 
 grasped his coat, and her shrill voice cried in his ear, 
 " Papa, I am very sorry, I blew up the gunpowder and 
 burnt Ada." 
 
 " "What, my dear ? where is Ada ? " 
 
 " In bed. I blew up the gunpowder and burnt her 
 face," repeated Phyllis. 
 
 " We have had an accident," said Emily, " but I hope 
 it is nothing very serious, only poor Ada is a sad figure." 
 
 In another moment Mr. Mohun and Eleanor were on 
 the way to the nursery : Lilias was following, but she rec- 
 collected that a general rush into a sick-room was not 
 desirable, and therefore paused and came back into the 
 hall. The worst was over with Phyllis when the con- 
 
THE BARONIAL COURT. 241 
 
 lession had been made. She was in raptures at the sight 
 of the baby, and was presently showing the nurse the way 
 up-stairs, but her brother William called her back : 
 " Phyllis, you have not spoken to any one." 
 
 Phyllis turned, and came down slowly in her most 
 ungainly manner, believing herself in too great disgrace 
 to be noticed by any body, and she was quite surprised 
 and comforted to be greeted by her brothers and Lily just 
 as usual. 
 
 " And how did you meet with this misfortune ? " asked 
 Mr. Hawkesworth. 
 
 " I banged the door, and made it go off," said Phyllis. 
 
 " What can you mean ? " said William, in a tone of 
 surprise, which Phyllis took for anger, and she hid her 
 face to stifle her sobs. 
 
 " No, no, do not frighten her," said Claude's kind 
 voice. 
 
 "Run and make friends with your nephew, Phyllis," 
 said Mr. Hawkesworth : " do not greet us with crying." 
 
 " First tell me what is become of Maurice," said 
 Claude, " is he blown up too ? " 
 
 " No, he is at the Old Court," said Phyllis. " Shall 
 I tell him that you are come ? " 
 
 " I will look for him," said Claude, and out he went. 
 
 The others dispersed in different directions, and did not 
 assemble again for nearly half an hour, when they all met 
 in the drawing-room to drink tea; Claude and Maurice 
 were the last to appear, and, on entering, the first thing 
 the former said was, " Where is Phyllis ? " 
 
 " In the nursery," said Jane ; " she has had her supper, 
 and chooses to stay with Ada." 
 
 " Has any one found out the history of the accident ? " 
 said William. 
 
 11 
 
242 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCKOPT. 
 
 " I have vainly been trying to make sense of Mauriee'a 
 account," said Claude. 
 
 " Sense ! " said William, " there is none." 
 
 " I am perfectly bewildered," said Lily ; " every one 
 has a different story, only consenting in making Phyllis 
 the victim." 
 
 " And," added Claude, " I strongly suspect she is not 
 in fault." 
 
 "Why should you doubt what she says herself?" 
 said Eleanor. 
 
 " What does she say herself? " said William, " nothing 
 but that she shut the door, and what does that amount 
 to?— Nothing." 
 
 " She says she touched the powder," interposed Jane. 
 
 " That is another matter," said William : " no one told 
 me of her touching the powder. But why do you not ask 
 her ? She is publicly condemned without a hearing." 
 
 " Who accuses her ? " said Mr. Mohun. 
 
 " I can hardly tell," said Emily : " she met us, saying 
 she was very sorry. Yes, she accuses herself. Every one 
 has believed it to be her." 
 
 " And why ? " 
 
 There was a pause, but at last Emily said, " How 
 would you account for it otherwise ? " 
 
 " I have not yet heard the circumstances. Maurice, 
 I wish to hear your account. I will not now ask how you 
 procured the powder. Whoever was the immediate cause 
 of the accident, you are chiefly to blame. Where was the 
 powder?" 
 
 Maurice gave his tneory and his facts, ending with the 
 powder-horn being driven out of the window, upon the 
 green. 
 
 " I hear " said Mr. Mohun. " But, Maurice, did you 
 
THE BARONIAL COUKT. 243 
 
 not say that Phyllis touched the powder ? How do you 
 reconcile that with this incomprehensible statement ? " 
 
 " She might have done that before," said Maurice. 
 
 " Now call Phyllis," said his father. 
 
 " Is it not very formidable for her to be examined 
 before such an assembly? " said Emily. 
 
 " The accusation has been public, and the investigation 
 shall be the same," said Mr. Mohun. 
 
 " Then you do not think she did it, Papa," cried Lily. 
 
 " Not by shutting the door," said William. 
 
 Phyllis entered, and Mr. Mohun, holding out both 
 hands to her, drew her towards him, and placing her with 
 her back to the others, still retained her hands, while he 
 said, " Phyllis, do not be frightened, but tell me where 
 you were when the powder exploded ? " 
 
 " Coming into the room," said Phyllis, in a trembling 
 voice. 
 
 " Where had you been ? " 
 
 " Fetching a wafer out of the drawing-room." 
 
 " What was the wafer for ? " 
 
 " To put on Emily's letter, which she told us to send." 
 
 " And where was Ada ? " 
 
 " In the school-room, reading the direction of the 
 letter." 
 
 " Tell me exactly what happened when you came 
 back." 
 
 " I opened the door, and there was a flash, and a bang, 
 and a smoke, and Ada tumbled down." 
 
 " I have one more question to ask. When did you 
 touch the powder ? " 
 
 " Then," said Phyllis. 
 
 " When it had exploded ? Take care what you say." 
 
244 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 " Was it naughty ? I am very sorry," said Phyllis, 
 beginning to cry. 
 
 " What powder did you touch ? I do not understand 
 you, tell me quietly." 
 
 " I touched the powder-horn. What went off was 
 only a little in a paper on the table, and there was a great 
 deal more. When the rocket blew up, there was a great 
 noise, and Ada and I both screamed, and Hannah ran in 
 and took up Ada in her arms. Then I saw a great fire, 
 and looked, and saw Emily's music book, and all the 
 papers blazing. So I thought if it got to the powder it 
 would blow up again, and I laid hold of the horn, and 
 threw it out of the window. That is all I know. Papa, 
 only I hope you are not angry with me." 
 
 She looked into his face, not knowing how to interpret 
 the unusual expression that she saw there. 
 
 " Angry with you ! " said he. " No, my dear child, 
 you have acted with great presence of mind. You have 
 saved your sister and Hannah from great danger, and I 
 am very sorry that you have been unjustly treated." 
 
 He then gave his little daughter a kiss, and putting 
 his hand on her head, added, " Whoever caused the ex- 
 plosion, Phyllis is quite free from blame, and I wish every 
 one to understand this, because she has been unjustly ac- 
 cused, without examination, and because she has borne it 
 patiently, and without attempting to justify herself" 
 
 " Very right," observed Eleanor. 
 
 " Shake hands, Phyllis," said William. 
 
 The others said more with their eyes than with their 
 lips. Phyllis stood like one in a dream, and fixing her 
 bewildered looks upon Claude, said, " Did not I do it ? " 
 
 " No, Phyllis, you had nothing to do with it," was the 
 general exclamation. 
 
TRE BARONIAL COURT. 245 
 
 " Maurice said it was the door," said Phyllis. 
 
 " Maurice talked nonsense," said Claude ; " you were 
 only foolish in believing him." 
 
 Phyllis went up to Claude, and laid her head on his 
 arm ; Mr. Hawkesworth held out his hand to her, but she 
 did not look up, and Claude, withdrawing his arm, and 
 raising her head, found that she was crying. Eleanor and 
 Lilias both rose, and came towards her, but Claude made 
 them a sign and led her away. 
 
 " What a fine story this will be for Keginald," said 
 William. 
 
 " And for Kotherwood,'' said Mr. Mohun. 
 
 " I do not see now how it happened," said Eleanor. 
 
 " Of course Ada did it herself," said William. 
 
 " Of course," said Maurice. " It was all from Emily's 
 setting them to seal her letter, that is plain now." 
 
 " Would not Ada have said so ? " asked Eleanor. 
 
 Lily sighed at the thought of what Eleanor had yet 
 to learn. 
 
 " Did you tell them to seal your letter, Emily ? " said 
 Mr. Mohun. 
 
 " I am sorry to say that I did tell them to send it," 
 said Emily, " but I said nothing about sealing, as Jane 
 remembers, and I forgot that Maurice's gunpowder was in 
 the room." 
 
 Eleanor shook her head sorrowfully, and looked down 
 at her knitting, and Lily knew that her mind was made up 
 respecting little Henry's dwelling-place. It was some 
 comfort to have raised no false expectations. 
 
 " Ada must not be frightened and agitated to-night," 
 said Mr. Mohun, " but I hope you will talk to her to-mor- 
 row, Eleanor. Well, Claude, have you made PhjUia 
 understand that she is acijuitted ? " 
 
246 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 " Scarcely," said Claude ; " slie is so overcome and 
 worn out, that I thought she had better go to bed, and 
 wake in her proper senses to-morrow." 
 
 " A very unconscious heroine," said William. " She 
 is a wonder — I never thought her any thing but an honest 
 sort of romp." 
 
 " I have long thought her a wonderful specimen of 
 obedience," said Mr. Mohun. 
 
 William and Claude now walked to the Parsonage, and 
 the council broke up ; but it must not be supposed that 
 this was the last that Emily and Maurice heard on the 
 subject. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 JOYS AND SORROWS. 
 
 " Complaint was lieard on every part 
 Of something disarranged." 
 
 The next day, Sunday, was one of the most marked in 
 Lily's life. It was the first time she saw Mr. Devereux 
 after his illness, and though Claude had told her he was 
 going to Church, it gave her a sudden thrill of joy to see 
 him there once more, and perhaps she never felt more 
 thankful than when his name was read before the Thanks- 
 giving. After the service, there was an exchange of greet- 
 ings, but Lily spoke no word, she felt too happy and too 
 awe-struck to say any thing, and she walked back to the 
 New Court in silence. 
 
 In the afternoon, she had hopes that a blessing would 
 be granted to her, for which at one time she had scarcely 
 
JOYS AND SORROWS. 247 
 
 dared to hope; and she felt convinoed that so it would 
 be when she saw. that Mr. Devereux wore his surplice, 
 although, as in the morning, his friend read the service. 
 After the Second Lesson there was a pause, and then Mr. 
 Dovereux left the chair by the Altar, walked along the 
 aisle, and took his stand on the step of the Font. Lily's 
 heart beat high as she saw who were gathering round 
 him — Mrs. Eden, Andrew Grey, James Harrington, and 
 Mrs. Naylor, who held in her arms a healthy, rosy-cheeked 
 boy of a year old. 
 
 She could not have described the feelings which made 
 her eyes overflow with tears, as she saw Mr. Devereux's 
 thin hand sprinkle the drops over the brow of the child, 
 and heard him say, " Robert, I baptize thee" — words 
 which she had heard in dreams, and then awakened to re- 
 member that the parish was at enmity with the Pastor, 
 the child unbaptized, and herself, in part, the cause. 
 
 The name of the little boy was an additional pledge 
 of reconciliation, and at the same time, it made her feel 
 again what had been the price of his Baptism. When she 
 looked back upon the dreary feelings which she had so 
 lately experienced, it seemed to her as if she might believe 
 that this christening was, as it were, a pledge of pardon, 
 and an earnest of better things. 
 
 Naylor, who had recovered much more slowly than Mr. 
 Devereux, was at Church for the first time, and after the 
 service, Mr. Mohun sought him out in the Churchyard, 
 and heartily shook hands with him. Lily would gladly 
 have followed his example, but she only stood by Eleanor 
 and Mrs. Weston, who were speaking to Mrs. Eden and 
 Mrs. Naylor, admiring the little boy, and praising him for 
 his good behavior in Church. 
 
 Love of babies was a strong bond between Mrs. Wes' 
 
248 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 ton and Mrs. Hawkesworth, who seemed to become well 
 acquainted from the first moment that little Henry was 
 mentioned ; and Lily was well pleased to see that in Jane's 
 phrase, Eleanor " took to her friends so well." 
 
 And yet this day brought with it some annoyances, 
 which once would have fretted her so much as to interfere 
 even with such joy as she now felt. The song, with which 
 she had taken so much pains, ought to have been sent 
 home a week before, but owing to the delay caused by 
 Emily's carelessness, it had been burnt in the fire in the 
 school-room, and Lily could not feel herself forgiven tUl 
 she had talked the disaster over in private with her 
 friend, and this was out of her power throughout the day, 
 for something always prevented her from getting Alethea 
 alone. In the morning, Jane stuck close to her, and in 
 the afternoon, William walked to the school gate with 
 them. But Alethea'a manner was kinder towards her 
 than ever, and she was quite satisfied about her. 
 
 It gave her more pain to perceive that Emily in every 
 possible manner avoided being alone with her. It was by 
 her desire that Phyllis came to sleep in their room ; She 
 would keep Jane talking there, give Esther some employ- 
 ment which kept her in their presence, linger in the draw- 
 ing-room while Lilias was dressing, and at bed-time be too 
 sleepy to say any thing but good-night. 
 
 That Sunday was a sorrowful one to Eleanor ; for in 
 the course of the conversation with Ada, which Mr. Mo- 
 hun had desired her to hold, she became conscious of the 
 little girl's double-dealing ways. It was only by a very 
 close cross-examination, that she was able to extract from 
 her a true account of the disaster, and though Ada never 
 went so far as actually to tell a falsehood, it was evident 
 that she was willing to conceal as much as possible, and 
 
JOYS AND SORROWS. 249 
 
 to throw the blame on other people. And when the real 
 facts were confessed, she did not seem able to comprehend 
 why she was regarded with displeasure ; her instinct of 
 truth and obedience was lost for the time, and Eleanor 
 saw it with the utmost pain. Adeline had been her espe- 
 cial darling, and cold as her manner had often been 
 towards the others, it ever was warm towards the mother- 
 less little one, whom she had tended and cherished with 
 most anxious care from her earliest infancy. She had left 
 her gentle, candid, and affectionate; a lovely, engaging 
 little creature, and how did she find her now ? Her fair 
 bright face disfigured, her caresses affected, her mind turned 
 to deceit and prevarication ! Well might Eleanor feel it 
 more than ever painful to leave her own little Henry to 
 the care of others; and well it was for her that she had 
 learned to find comfort in the consciousness that her duty 
 was clear. 
 
 The next morning, Emily learned what was Henry's 
 destination. 
 
 " Oh ! Eleanor," said she, " why do you not leave him 
 here ? We should be so rejoiced to have him." 
 
 " Thank you, I am afraid it is out of the question," 
 answered Eleanor, quietly. 
 
 " Why, dear Eleanor ? You know how glad we should 
 be. I should have thought," proceeded Emily, a little 
 hurt, " that you would have wished him to Ifve in your 
 own home." 
 
 Eleanor did not speak, and Emily, who had the little 
 boy in her arms, went on talking to him : " Come, baby, 
 let us persuade Mamma to let you stay with aunt Emily. 
 Ask Papa, Henry, won't you? Seriously, Eleanor, has 
 Frank considered how much better it would be to have 
 him in the country ? " 
 11* 
 
250 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHOROFT. 
 
 " Hg has, Emily, he once wished much to leave him 
 here." 
 
 "I am sure Grandpapa would like it," said Emily. 
 " Do you observe, Eleanor, how fond he is of baby, always 
 calling him Harry too, as if he liked the sound of the 
 name ? " 
 
 " It has all been talked over, Emily, and it cannot be." 
 
 " With Papa ? " asked Emily in surprise. 
 
 " No, with Lily." 
 
 " With Lily ! " exclaimed Emily. " Did not aunt Lily 
 wish to keep you, Harry ? I thought she was very fond of 
 you." 
 
 "You had better inquire no further," said Eleanor, 
 " except of your own conscience." 
 
 " Did Lily think us unfit to take care of him ? " asked 
 Emily, in surprise. 
 
 As she spoke, Lily herself came in, the key of the 
 store-room in her hand, and looks of consternation on ier 
 face. She came to announce a terrible deficiency in the 
 preserved quinces, which she herself had carefully put 
 aside on a shelf in the store-room, and which Emily said 
 she had not touched in her absence. 
 
 " Let me see," said Eleanor rising, and setting off to 
 the store-room; Emily and Lily followed, with a sad 
 suspicion of the truth. On the way, they looked into the 
 nursery, to give little Henry to his nurse, and to ask 
 Jane, who was sitting with Ada, what she remembered 
 about it. Jane knew nothing, and they went on to the 
 store-room, where Eleanor, quite in her element, began 
 rummaging, arranging, and sighing over the confusion, 
 while Lily lent a helping hand, and Emily stood by, 
 wishing that her sister would not trouble herself. Pre- 
 sently, Jane came running up with a saucer in her hand 
 
JOYS AND SORROWS. 251 
 
 oontaining a quarter of a quince and some syrup, which she 
 said she had found in the nursery cupboard, in searching 
 for a puzzle which Ada wanted. 
 
 " And," said Jane, " I should guess that Miss Ada 
 herself knew something about it, for when I could not find 
 the puzzle in the right-hand cupboard, she was so very 
 unwilling that I should look into that one ; she said there 
 was nothing there, but the boys' old playthings, and Es- 
 ther's clothes. And I do not know whether you saw how 
 she fidgetted, when you were talking about the quinces 
 before you went up." 
 
 " It is much too plain," sighed Lily. " Oh ! Rachel, 
 why did we not listen to you ? " 
 
 " Do you suppose," said Eleanor, " that Ada has been 
 in the habit of taking the key and helping herself? " 
 
 " No,'' said Emily, " but that Esther has helped her." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Eleanor, " I never thought it wise to 
 take her, but how could she get the key ? You do not 
 mean that you trusted it out of your own keeping." 
 
 " It began while we were ill," faltered Emily, " and 
 afterwards it was difficult to bring matters into their for- 
 mer order." 
 
 " But oh, Eleanor ! what is to be done ! " sighed Lily. 
 
 " Speak to Papa, of course," said Eleanor. " He is 
 gone to the Castle, and in the meantime, we had better 
 take an exact account of every thing here." 
 
 " And Esther ? And Ada ? " inquired the sisters. 
 
 " I think it will be better to speak to him, before 
 making so grave an accusation," said Eleanor. 
 
 They now commenced that wearisome occupation, — a 
 complete setting-to-rights ; Eleanor counted, weighed, and 
 measured, and extended her cares from the stores to every 
 other household matter. Emily made her escape, and 
 
252 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 went to sit with Ada ; but Lily and Jane toiled for several 
 hours with Eleanor, till Lily was so heated and wearied, 
 that she was obliged to give up a walk to Broomhill, and 
 spend another day without a talk with Alethea. Howerer, 
 she was so patient, ready, and good-humored, that Eleanor 
 was well pleased with her. She could hardly think of the 
 slight vexation, when her mind was full of sorrow and 
 shame on Esther's account. It was she, who, contrary to 
 the advice of her elders, had insisted on bringing her into 
 the house ; she had allowed temptation to be set in her 
 way, and had not taken sufficient pains to strengthen her 
 principles; and how could she do otherwise than feel 
 guilty of all Esther's faults, and of those into which she 
 had led Adeline ? 
 
 On Mr. Mohun's return, Ada was interrogated. She 
 pitied herself — said she did not think Papa would be 
 angry — prevaricated — and tried to coax away his inquiries, 
 but all in vain ; and at length, by slow degrees, the con- 
 fession was drawn from her, that she had been used to 
 asking Esther for morsels of sweet things, when she was 
 sent to the store-room ; that afterwards, she had seen her 
 packing up some tea and sugar to take to her mother, and 
 that Esther had on that occasion, and several others, pur- 
 chased her silence by giving her a share of pilfered sweet- 
 meats. Telling her that he only spared her a very severe 
 punishment for the present, on account of her illness, Mr. 
 Mohun left her, and on his way down stairs, met Phyllis. 
 
 " Phyl," said he, " did Esther ever give you sweet 
 things out of the store-room ? " 
 
 " Once, Papa, when she had been putting out some 
 currant jam, she offered me what had been left in the 
 spoon." 
 
 " Did you take it ? " 
 
love's labour lost. 253 
 
 " No, Papa, for Eleanor used to say it was a bad trick 
 to lick out spoons." 
 
 " Did you ever know that she took tea and sugar from 
 the store-room, for her mother ? " 
 
 " Took home tea and sugar to her mother ! Slie could 
 not have done it, Papa. It would be stealing 1 " 
 
 Esther, who was next called for, cried a great deal, 
 and begged for pardon, pleading again and again, that " It 
 was mother," — an answer which made her young mis- 
 tresses again sigh over the remembrance of Kachel's dis- 
 regarded advice. Her fate was left for consideration and 
 consultation with Mr. Devereux, for Mr. Mohun, seeing 
 himself to blame, for having allowed her to be placed in a 
 situation of so much trial, and thinking that there was 
 much that was good about her, did not like to send her to 
 her home, where she was likely to learn nothing but what 
 was bad. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIV. 
 
 LOVES LABOUR LOST. 
 
 ' And well, with ready hand and heart, 
 Each task of toilsome duty taking, 
 Did one dear inmate take her part 
 The last asleep, the earliest waking." 
 
 In the course of the afternoon. Lord Rotherwood and 
 Florence called, to see Eleanor, inquire after Ada, and 
 make the final arrangements for going to a morning con- 
 cert at Eaynham, the next day. Lady Rotherwood was 
 afraid of the fatigue, and Florence, therefore, wished to 
 accompany her cousins, who, as Eleanor meant to stay at 
 
254 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 home, were to be under Mrs. "Weston's protection. Lady 
 Florence and her brother, therefore, agreed to ride home 
 by Broomhill, and mention the plan to Mrs. Weston, and 
 took their leave, appointing Adams's shop as the place of 
 rendezvous. 
 
 Next morning, Emily, Lilias, and Jane, happened to 
 be together in the drawing-room, when Mr. Mohun and 
 Claude came in, the former saying to Lily, " Here is the 
 mason's account for the gravestone, which you wished to 
 have put up to Agnes Eden; it comes to two pounds. 
 You undertook half the expense, and as Claude is going 
 to Raynham, he will pay for it if you will give him your 
 sovereign." 
 
 " I will," said Lily, " but first, I must ask Emily to 
 pay me for the London commissions." 
 
 Emily repestpd. not having had a private conference 
 with Lily. , 
 
 " So you have not settled your accounts," said Mr. 
 Mohun. " I hope Lily has not ruined you, Emily." 
 
 " I thought her a mirror of prudence," said Claude. 
 
 "Well, Emily, is the sovereign forthcoming? I am 
 going directly, for Erank has something to do at Rayn- 
 ham, and William is going to try his grey in the phaeton." 
 
 " I am afraid you will think me very silly," said Emily, 
 after some deliberation, " but I hope Lily will not be very 
 angry, when I confess that seven shillings is the sum total 
 of my property." 
 
 " Oh, Emily ! " cried Lily, in dismay, " what has 
 become of your five pounds ? " 
 
 " I gave them as a subscription for a clergyman's 
 widow in distress," said Emily ; " it was the impulse of a 
 moment, I could not help it, and, dear Lily, I hope it will 
 not inconvonionoo you." 
 
love's labour lost. 255 
 
 " If Papa will be kind enough to wait for this pound 
 till Michaelmas," said Lily. 
 
 " I would wait willingly," said Mr. Mohun, " but I 
 will not see you cheated. How much does she owe 
 you ? " 
 
 " The commissions came to six pounds three,'' said 
 Lily, looking down. 
 
 " But Lily,'' said Jane, " you forget the old debt." 
 
 " Never mind," whispered Lily ; but Mr. Mohun asked 
 what Jane had said, and Claude repeated her speech, upon 
 which he inquired, " What old debt ? " 
 
 " Papa," said Emily, in her most candid tone, " I do 
 not know what I should have done, but for Lily's 
 kindness. Eeally, I cannot get on with ""my present 
 allowance ; being the eldest, so many expenses come upon 
 me." 
 
 " Then am I to understand," replied Mr. Mohun, 
 " that your foolish vanity has led you to encroach on your 
 sister's kindness, and to borrow of her what you had no 
 reasonable hope of repaying. Again, Lily, what does 
 she owe you ? " 
 
 Emily felt the difference between the sharp curious eyes 
 with which Jane regarded her, and the sorrowful downcast 
 looks of Lily, who replied, " The old debt is four pounds, 
 but that does not signify." 
 
 " Well," resumed her father, " I cannot blame you for 
 your good-nature, though an older person might have 
 acted otherwise. You must have managed wonderfully 
 well, to look always so well dressed with only half your 
 proper income. Here is the amount of the debt. Is it 
 right ? And, Lily, one thing more ; I wish to thank you 
 for what you have done towards keeping this house in 
 order. You have worked hard, and endured much, and 
 
256 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCKOFT. 
 
 from all I can gather, you have prevented much mischief. 
 Much has unfairly been thrown, upon you, and you have 
 well and steadily done your duty. For you, Emily, I 
 have more to say to you, but I shall not enter on it at 
 present, for it is late. You had better get ready, or you 
 will keep the others waiting." 
 
 " I do not think I can go," sighed Emily. 
 
 "You are wanted," said Mr. Mohun. "I do not 
 think your aunt would like Florence to go without you." 
 
 Lily had trembled as much under her father's praise, as 
 Emily under his blame. She did not feel as if his com- 
 mendation was merited, and longed to tell him of her 
 faults and follies, but this was no fit time, and she has- 
 tened to prepare for her expedition, her spirits scarcely in 
 tune for a party of pleasure. Jane talked about the 30th, 
 and asked questions about London, all the way to Rayn- 
 ham, and both Emily and Lily were glad to join in her 
 chatter, in hopes of relieving their own embarrassment. 
 
 On arriving at the place of meeting, they found Lady 
 Florence watching for them. 
 
 " I am glad you are come," said she, '' Rotherwood 
 will always set out either too soon or too late, and this 
 time it was too soon, so here we have been full a quarter 
 of an hour, but he does not care. There he is, quite en- 
 grossed with his book." 
 
 Lord Rotherwood was standing by the counter, reading 
 so intently that he did not see his cousins' arrival. When 
 they entered, he just looked up, shook hands, asked after 
 Ada, and went on reading. Lily began looking for some 
 books for the school, which she had long wished for, and 
 was now able to purchase ; Emily sat down in a melan- 
 choly, abstracted mood, and Florence and Jane stood to- 
 gether talking. 
 
love's labour lost. 257 
 
 " You know you are all to come early," said the for- 
 mer, " I do not know how we should manage without you. 
 Rotherwood insists on having every thing the same day — 
 poor people first, and gentry and farmers altogether. 
 Mamma does not like it, and I expect wo shall be dread- 
 fully tired ; but he says he will not have the honest poor 
 men put out for the fashionables ; and you know we are 
 all to dance with every body. But, Jenny, who is this 
 crossing the street ? Look, you have an eye for oddities." 
 
 " Miss Fitchett, the subscription-hunter," said Jane. 
 
 " She is actually coming to hunt us. I believe I have 
 my purse. Oh ! Emily is to be the first victim " 
 
 Miss Fitchett advanced to Emily, and saying, that she 
 believed she had the honour to address Miss Mohun, began 
 to tell her, that her friend having been prematurely in- 
 formed of her small efforts, had with a noble spirit of in- 
 dependence begged that the subscription might not be 
 continued, and that what had already been given, might 
 be returned, and she rejoiced in this opportunity of making 
 the explanation. But Miss Fitchett could not bear to 
 relinquish the five-pound-note, and added, that perhaps 
 Miss Mohun might not object to apply her subscription to 
 some other object, the Dorcas Society for instance. 
 
 " Thank you, I have no interest in the Dorcas Soci- 
 ety," said Emily ; a reply which brought upon her a ful) 
 account of all its aims and objects ; and as still her polite 
 looks spoke nothing of assent. Miss Fitchett went on with 
 a string of other Societies, speaking the louder, and the 
 more eagerly, in the hope of attracting the attention of 
 the young Marquis and his sister. Emily was easily over- 
 whelmed with words, and not thinking it lady-like to claim 
 her money, yet feeling that none of these Societies were 
 fit objects for it, she stood confused and irresolute, un 
 
258 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 willing cither to consent or refuse. Jane, perceiving her 
 difficulty, turned to Lord Rotherwood, and rousing him 
 from his book, explained Emily's distress in a few words, 
 and sent him to her rescue. He stepped forward just as 
 Miss Fitchett, taking silence for consent, was proceeding 
 to thank Emily ; " I think you misunderstood Miss Mo- 
 hun," said he. " Since her subscription is not needed by 
 the person for whom it was intended, she would be glad 
 to have it restored. She does not wish to encourage any 
 unauthorized Societies." 
 
 Boy as he was, in appearance still more than in age, 
 there was a dignity in his manner which, together with 
 the principle on which he spoke, overawed Miss Fitchett, 
 even more than his rank. She only said, " Oh ! my Lord, 
 I beg your pardon. Certainly, only — " 
 
 The note was placed in Emily's hands, and with a bow 
 from Lord Rotherwood, she retreated, murmuring to her- 
 self the remonstrance which she had not courage to be- 
 stow upon the Marquis. 
 
 " Thank you, thank you, Rotherwood," said Emily, 
 " you have done me a great service." 
 
 " Well done, Rotherwood," said Florence, " you have 
 given the old lady something to reflect upon." 
 
 " Made a public announcement of principle," said LUy. 
 
 " I was determined to give her a reason," said the 
 Marquis, laughing, " but I assure you I felt like the stork 
 with its head in the wolf's mouth, I thought she would 
 give me a screed of doctrine. How came you to let your 
 property get into her clutches, Emily ? " 
 
 " It was a subscription for Mrs. Aylmer," said Emily. 
 
 "Our curate's wife!" cried he, with a start; "how 
 was it ? Florence, did you know any thing ? I thought she 
 
love's labour lost. 259 
 
 was in London. Why were we in the dark? Tell me 
 all." 
 
 " All I know is that she is living somewhere in Rayn- 
 ham, and last week there was a paper here to say that she 
 was in want of the means of fitting out her son foi 
 India." 
 
 " Yes, yes, Johnny ,J[ know my father did get a pro- 
 mise for him — well ! " 
 
 " That is all I know, except that she does not choose 
 to be a beggar." 
 
 " Poor Mrs. Aylmer ! shameful neglect ! she shall not 
 be ill-used any longer, I will find her out this Instant. 
 Don't wait for me." 
 
 And after a few words to Mr. Adams, ofi' he went, 
 walking as fast as he could, and leaving the young ladies 
 not without fear of another invasion. Soon, however, the 
 brothers came in, and presently after Mrs. Weston ap- 
 peared. It was agreed that Lord Rotherwood should be 
 left to his own devices, and they set out for the concert- 
 room. Poor Florence lost much pleasure in disappoint- 
 ment, at his non-appearance, but when the concert was 
 over, they found him sitting in the carriage, reading. As 
 soon as they appeared, he sprang out, and came to meet 
 them, pouring rapidly out a history of his adventures. 
 
 " Then you have found them, and what can be done 
 for them?" 
 
 " Every thing ought to be done, but Mrs. Aylmer has 
 a spirit of independence. That foolish woman's advertise- 
 ment was unknown to her till Emily's five pounds came 
 in, so fine a nest egg that she could not help cackling, 
 whereupon Mrs. Aylmer insisted on having every farthing 
 returned." 
 
 " Can she provide the boy's outfit ? " 
 
260 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 " She says so, or rather that her (laughter can, but 1 
 ehall see about that. It is worth while to be of age 
 Imagine ! That bank which failed, was the end of my 
 father's legacy. They must have lived on a fraction of 
 nothing ! Edward went to sea. Miss Aylmer went out as 
 a governess. Now she is at home." 
 
 " Miss Aylmer ! " exclaimed Miss Weston, " I know 
 she was a clergyman's daughter. Do you know the name 
 of the family she lived with ? " 
 
 " Was it Grant ? " said William ; " I remember hear- 
 ing of her going to some Grant's." 
 
 " It was," said Alethea ; " she must be the same. Is 
 she at home ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Lord Rotherwood, " and you may soon 
 see her, for I mean to have them all to stay at the Castle as 
 soon as our present visitors are gone. My mother and 
 Florence shall call upon them on Friday." 
 
 " Now,'' said Claude, " I have not found out what 
 brought-thcm back to Eaynham." 
 
 " Have you lived at Beeohcroft all your life, and never 
 discovered that there is a grammar-school at Eaynham, 
 with special privileges for the sons of clergymen of the 
 diocese ? " 
 
 A few more words, and the cousins parted ; Emily by 
 no means sorry that she had been obliged to go to Rayn- 
 ham. She tendered the five pound note to her father, but 
 he desired her to wait till Friday, and then to bring him a 
 full account of her expenditure of the year. Her irregu- 
 lar ways made this almost impossible, especially as in the 
 present state of affairs she wished to avoid a private con- 
 ference with either Lily or Jane. She was glad that an 
 invitation to dine and sleep at the Castle on Wednesday, 
 would save her from the peril of having to talk to Lily in 
 
love's labour lost. 261 
 
 the evening. Eeginald came home on Tuesday, to the 
 great joy of all the party, and especially to that of Phyl- 
 lis. This little maiden was more puzzled by the events 
 that had taken place, than conscious of the feeling which 
 she had once thought must be so delightful. She could 
 scarcely help perceiving that every one was much more 
 kind to her than usual, especially Claude and Lily, and 
 Lord Rotherwood said things which she could not at all 
 understand. Her observation to Reginald was, " Was it 
 not lucky I had a cough on Twelfth-day ? or Claude would 
 not have told me what to do about gunpowder." 
 
 Reginald troubled Phyllis much by declaring that 
 nothing should induce him to kiss his nephew, and she 
 was terribly shocked by the indifference with which 
 Eleanor treated his neglect, even when it branched out 
 into abuse of babies in general, and in particular of 
 Henry's bald head and turned-up nose. 
 
 In the evening of Wednesday, Phyllis was sitting 
 with Ada in the nursery, when Reginald came up with the 
 news that the party down-stairs were going to practise 
 country-dances ; Eleanor was to play, Claude was to dance 
 with Lily, and Prank with Jane, and he himself wanted 
 Phyllis for a partner. 
 
 " Oh ! " sighed Ada, " I wish I was there to dance 
 with you, Redgie. What are the others doing ? " 
 
 " Maurice is reading, and William went out as soon as 
 dinner wac over; make haste, Phyl." 
 
 " Don't go," said Ada, '' I shall be alone all to-morrow, 
 and I want you." 
 
 " Nonsense," said Reginald, " do you think she is to 
 sit poking here all day, playing with those foolish London 
 things of yours." 
 
262 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 "But I am ill, Redgie. I wish you -would not ba 
 cross. Every body is cross to me now, I think." 
 
 " I will stay, Ada," said Phyllis ; " you know, Redgie, 
 I dance like a cow." 
 
 " You dance better than nothing," said Reginald, " I 
 must have you." 
 
 " But you are not ill, Redgie," said Phyllis. 
 
 He went down in displeasure, and was forced to con- 
 sider Sir Maurice's picture as his partner, until presently 
 the door opened, and Phyllis appeared ; " So you have 
 thought better of it," cried he. 
 
 " No," said Phyllis, " I cannot come to dance, but Ada 
 wants you to leave off playing. She says the music makes 
 her unhappy, for it makes her think about to-morrow." 
 
 " Rather selfish, Miss Ada," said Claude. 
 
 " Stay here, Phyllis, now you are come," said Mr. 
 Mohun, " I will go and speak to Ada." 
 
 Phyllis was now captured, and made to take her place, 
 opposite to Reginald ; but more than once she sighed under 
 the apprehension that Ada was receiving a lecture. This 
 was the case ; and very little did poor Ada comprehend the 
 change that had taken place in the conduct of almost every 
 one towards her ; she did not perceive that she was particu- 
 larly naughty, and yet she had suddenly become an object 
 of blame, instead of a spoiled pet. Formerly her little 
 slynesses had been unnoticed, and her overbearing ways 
 towards Phyllis scarcely remarked, but now they were 
 continually mentioned as grievous faults. Esther, her 
 especial friend and comforter, was scarcely allowed to 
 come into the same room with her ; Hannah treated her 
 with a kind of grave, silent respect, far from the familiar- 
 ity which she liked; little Henry's nurse never would 
 talk to her, and if it had not been for Phyllis, she would 
 
love's labour lost. 263 
 
 liave been very miserable. On Phyllis, however, she 
 repaid herself for all the mortifications that she received, 
 while the sweet-tempered little girl took all her fretfulness 
 and exactions as results of her illness, and went on pity 
 ing her, and striving to please her. 
 
 When Phyllis came up to wish her good-night, she 
 was received with an exclamation at her lateness in a 
 peevish tone : " Yes, I am late," said Phyllis, merrily, 
 " but we had not done dancing till tea-time, and then 
 Eleanor was so kind as to say I might sit up to have some 
 tea with them." 
 
 " Ah ! and you quite forgot how tiresome it is up here, 
 with nobody to speak to," said Ada. " How cross they 
 were not to stop the music when I said it made me 
 miserable ! " 
 
 " Claude said it was selfish to want to stop five people's 
 pleasure for one," said Phyllis. 
 
 " But I am so ill," said Ada. " If Claude was as 
 uncomfortable as I am, he would know how to be sorry 
 for me. And only think — Phyl, what are you doing? 
 Do not you know I do not like the moonlight to come 
 on me. It is like a great face laughing at me." 
 
 " Well, I like the moon so much ! " said Phyllis, 
 creeping behind the curtain to look out, " there is some- 
 thing so white and bright in it ; when it comes on the bed- 
 clothes, it makes me go to sleep, thinking about white 
 robes, oh ! and all sorts of nice things." 
 
 " I can't bear the moon,'' said Ada ; " do not you know, 
 Maurice says that the moon makes the people go mad, and 
 that is the reason it is called lunacy, after la lune ? " 
 
 "I asked Miss Weston about that," said Phyllis, 
 " because of the Psalm, and she said it was because it was 
 dangerous to go to sleep in the open air in hot countries. 
 
264 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEEOHCROFT. 
 
 Ada, I wish you could see now. There is the great round 
 moon in the middle of the sky, and the sky such a beauti- 
 ful colour, and a few such great bright stars, and the trees 
 so dark, and the white lilies standing up on the black 
 pond, and the lawn all white with dew ! what a fine day it 
 will be to-morrow ! " 
 
 " A fine day for you ! " said Ada, " but only think of 
 poor me, all alone by myself" 
 
 " You will have baby," said Phyllis. 
 
 " Baby — if he could talk it would be all very well. 
 It is just like the cross people in books. Here I shall lie 
 and cry all the time, while you are dancing about as 
 merry as can be." 
 
 " No, no, Ada, you will not do that," said Phyllis, 
 with tears in her eyes. " There is baby with all his 
 pretty ways, and you may teach him to say aunt Ada, and 
 I will bring you in numbers of flowers, and there is your 
 new doll, and all the pretty things that came from Lon- 
 don, and the new book of Fairy Tales, and all sorts — oh ! 
 no, do not cry, Ada." 
 
 " But I shall, for I shall think of you dancing', and 
 not caring for me." 
 
 " I do care, Ada — why do you say that I do not ? I 
 cannot bear it, Ada, dear Ada." 
 
 " You don't, or you would not go and leave me 
 alone." 
 
 " Then, Ada, I will not go," said Phyllis ; " I could 
 not bear to leave you crying here all alone." 
 
 " Thank you, dear good Phyl, but I think you will 
 not have much loss. You know you do not like dancing, 
 and you cannot do it well, and they will be sure to laugh 
 at you." 
 
 " And I dare say Rcdgie and Marianne will tell us all 
 
265 
 
 about it," said Phyllis, sighing. " I should rather like to 
 have seen it, but they will tell us." 
 
 " Then do you promise to stay ? — there's a dear," said 
 Ada. 
 
 " Yes," said Phyllis. " Cousin Kobert is coming in, 
 and that wiU be very nice, and I hope he will not look as 
 he did the day the gunpowder went off — oh, dear ! " She 
 went back to the window to get rid of her tears unper- 
 ceived. "Ah," cried she, "there is some one in the 
 garden ! " 
 
 " A man ! " screamed Ada — " a thief, a robber — call 
 somebody ! " 
 
 " No, no," said Phyllis laughing, " it is only William ; 
 he has been out all the evening, and now. Papa has come 
 out to speak to him, and they are walking up and down 
 together. I wonder whether he has been sitting with 
 cousin Kobert, or at Broomhill ! "Well, good-night, Ada. 
 Here comes Hannah." 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE THIRTIETH OF JULT. 
 
 "The heir, with roses in his shoes. 
 That night might village partner choose." 
 
 The 30th of July was bright and clear, and Phyllis was 
 up early, gathering flowers, which, with the help of Jane's 
 nimble fingers, she made into elegant little bouquets for 
 each of her sisters, and for Claude. 
 
 " How is this ? " said Mr. Hawkesworth, pretending 
 12 
 
266 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 to look disconsolate, " am I to sing ' Fair Phyllida flouts 
 me,' or why is my button-hole left destitute ? " 
 
 " Perhaps that is for you on the side-table," said 
 Lily. 
 
 " Oh ! no," said Phyllis, " those are some Provence 
 roses for Miss Weston and Marianne, because Miss Wes- 
 ton likes those, and they have none at Broomhill. Redgie 
 is going to take care of them. I will get you a nosegay, 
 Frank. I did not know you liked it." 
 
 She started up. " How prudent, Phyllis," said Elea- 
 nor, " not to have put on your muslin-frock yet." 
 
 " Oh ! I am not going," said Phyllis. 
 
 " Not going ! " was the general outcry. 
 
 " No, poor Ada cries so about being left at home with 
 only baby, that I cannot bear it, and so I promised to 
 stay." 
 
 Away went Phyllis, and Eeginald exclaimed, " Well, 
 she shall not be served so. I will go and tell Ada so, this 
 instant ! " 
 
 Off he rushed, and putting in his head at the nursery 
 door, shouted, " Ada, I am come to tell you that Phyl is 
 not to be made your black-a-moor slave ! She shall go, 
 that is settled." 
 
 Down he went with equal speed, without waiting for 
 an answer, and arrived while Eleanor was saying that she 
 thought Ada was provided with amusement with the baby, 
 her playthings and books, and that Mr. Devereux had 
 promised to make her a visit. 
 
 " Any body ought to stay at home rather than Phyl- 
 lis," said Lily, " I think I had better stay." 
 
 '" No, no, Lily," said Jane, " you are more wanted 
 than I am ; you are really worth talking to, and dancing 
 with : I had much better be at home." 
 
THE THIRTIETH OF JULY. 267 
 
 " I forgot ! " exclaimed William, " Mrs. Weston de- 
 sired me to say that slie is not going, and she will take 
 care of Ada. Mr. Weston will set her down at half-past 
 ten, and take up one of us." 
 
 " I will be that one," said Reginald, " I have not seen 
 Miss Weston since I came home. I meant to walk to 
 Broomhill after dinner yesterday, only the Baron stop- 
 ped me, about that country dance. Last Christmas I 
 made her promise to dance with me to-day." 
 
 Lily had hoped to be that one, but she did not oppose 
 Reginald, and turned to listen to Eleanor, who was say- 
 ing, " Let us clearly understand how every one is to go, 
 it will save a great deal of confusion. You, and Jane 
 and Maurice go in the phaeton, do not you ? And who 
 drives you ? " 
 
 " William, I believe," said Lily. " Claude goes earlier, 
 so he rides the grey. Then there is the chariot for you 
 and Frank, and Papa and Phyllis." 
 
 So it was proposed, but matters turned out otherwise. 
 The phaeton, which, with a promoted cart-horse, was 
 rather a slow conveyance, was to set out first, but the 
 whole of the freight was not ready in time. The ladies 
 were in the hall as soon as it came to the door, but neither 
 of the gentlemen were forthcoming. Reginald, who was 
 wandering in the hall, was sent to summon them ; but down 
 he came in great wrath. Maurice had declared that he 
 was not ready, and they must wait for him till he had tied 
 his neck-cloth, which Reginald opined would take three 
 quarters of an hour, as he was doing it scientifically, and 
 William had said, that he was not going in the gig at all, 
 that he had told Wat Greenwood to drive, and that 
 Reginald must go instead of Maurice. 
 
 In confirmation of the startling fact, Wat, who had 
 
268 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHOKOFT. 
 
 had a special invitation from the Marquis, was sitting in 
 the phaeton in his best black velvet coat. Jane only 
 hoped that Emily would not look out of the window, or 
 she would certainly go into fits on seeing them arrive with 
 the old phaeton, the thick-legged cart-horse, and Wat 
 Greenwood for a driver : and Reginald, after much growl- 
 ing at Maurice, much bawling at William's door, and, aa 
 Jane said, ramping and roaring in all parts of the house, 
 was forced to be resigned to his fate, and all the way to 
 Hetherington held a very amusing conversation with his 
 good-natured friend the keeper. 
 
 They were overtaken, nodded to, and passed by the 
 rest of their party. Maurice had been reduced to ride the 
 pony, William came with the Westons, and the chariot 
 load was just as had been before arranged. 
 
 Claude came out to meet them at the door, saying, 
 " I need not have gone so' early. What do you think has 
 become of the hero of the day ? Guess, I will just give 
 you this hint, 
 
 ' Though on pleasure he was hent, he had no selfish mind.' " 
 
 " Oh ! the Aylmers, I suppose," said Lilias. 
 
 " Right, Lily, he heard something at dinner yesterday 
 about a school for clergymen's sons, which struck him as 
 likely to suit young Devereux Aylmer, and off ho set at 
 seven o'clock this morning to Raynham, to breakfast with 
 Mrs. Aylmer, and talk to her about it. Never let me hear 
 again that he is engrossed with his own affairs ! " 
 
 " And why is he in such a hurry ? " asked Lily. 
 
 " 'Tis his nature," said Claude, " besides, Travers, who 
 mentioned this school, goes away to-morrow. My aunt is 
 in a fine fright lest he should not come back in time. Do 
 not yiu hear her telling Papa so in the drawing-room ? " 
 
THE THIRTIETH OF JULY. 269 
 
 " There he is, riding up to the door," said Phyllis, who 
 had joined them in the hall. Lord Rotherwood stopped 
 for a few moments at the door to give some directions to 
 tiie servants, and then came quickly in. 
 
 " Ah there you are ! — ^what time is it ? It is all right, 
 Claude — Devereux is just the right age. I asked him a 
 few questions this morning, and he will stand a capital 
 examination. Ha, Phyl, I am glad to see you." 
 
 " I wish you many happy returns of the day, cousin 
 Rotherwood." 
 
 " Thank you, Phyl, we had better see how we get 
 through one such day before we wish it to return. Are 
 the rest come ? " 
 
 He went on into the drawing-room, and hastily in- 
 forming his mother that he had sent the carriage to fetch 
 Miss Aylmer and her brothers to the feast, called Claude 
 to come out on the lawn to look at the preparations. The 
 bowling-green was to serve as drawing-room, and at one 
 end was pitched an immense tent where the dinner was 
 to be. 
 
 " I say, Claude," said he, in his quickest and most 
 confused way, " I depend upon you for one thing. Do 
 not let the Baron be too near me." 
 
 " The Baron of Beef? " said Claude. 
 
 "No, the Baron of Beechcroft. If you wish my 
 speech to be radara tadara, put him where I can imagine 
 that he hears me." 
 
 " Very well," said Claude, laughing ; " have you any 
 other commands ? " 
 
 " No — ^yes, I have though. You know what we settled 
 about the toasts. Hunt up old Farmer Elderfield as soon 
 as he comes, and do not frighten him. If you could sit 
 next to him and make him get up at the right time, it 
 
270 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHOKOFT. 
 
 would be best. Tell him I will not let any one propose 
 my health but my great grandfather's tenant. You will 
 manage it best. And tell Frank Hawkesworth, and Mr. 
 Weston, or some of them, to manage so that the gentry 
 may not sit together in a herd, two or three together 
 would be best. Mind, Claude, I depend on you for 
 being attentive to all the damsels. I cannot be every- 
 where at once, and I see your great Captain will be of no 
 use to me." 
 
 Here news was brought that the labourers had begun 
 to arrive, and the party went to the walnut avenue, where 
 the feast was spread. It was pleasant to see so many 
 poor families enjoying their excellent dinner, but, perhaps 
 the pleasantest sight was, the lord of the feast, speaking to 
 each poor man with all his bright good-natured cordiality. 
 Mr. Mohun was surprised to see how well he knew them 
 all, considering how short a time he had been among 
 them ; and LUias found Florence rise in her estimation, 
 when she perceived that the inside of the Hetherington 
 cottages was not unknown to her. 
 
 " Do you know, Florence," said she, as they walked 
 back to the house together, " I did you great injustice ; I 
 never expected you to know or care about poor people." 
 
 " No more I did till this winter," said Florence ; " I 
 could not do any thing, you know, before. Indeed, I do 
 not do much now, only Rotherwood has made me go into 
 the school now and then; and when first we came, he 
 made it his especial request that whenever a poor woman 
 came to ask for any thing I would go and speak to her. 
 And so I could not help being interested about those I 
 knew." 
 
 " How odd it is that we never talked about it," said 
 Lily. 
 
TKE THIRTIETH OF JULY. 2"!! 
 
 " I never talk of it," said Florence, " because Mannna 
 never likes to hear of my going into cottages with Eother- 
 wood. Besides, somehow I thought you did it as a mat- 
 ter of duty, and not of pleasure. Oh ! Rotherwood, is 
 that you ? " 
 
 " The Aylmers are come," said Lord Rotherwood, 
 drawing her arm intp his, " and I want you to come and 
 speak to them, Florence and Lily ; I can't find any one ; 
 all the great elders have vanished. You know them of 
 :l'i' do not you, Lily ? " 
 
 " Of old ? Yes ; but of so old that I do not suppose 
 they will know me. You must introduce me." 
 
 He hastened them to the drawing-room, where they 
 found Miss Aylmer, a sensible, lady-like looking person, 
 and two brothers, of about fifteen and thirteen. 
 
 " Well, Miss Aylmer, I have brought you two old 
 friends ; so old, that they think you have forgotten them 
 — my cousin Lilias, and my sister Florence." 
 
 " We have not forgotten you, Miss Aylmer," said 
 Florence, warmly shaking hands with her. " You seem 
 BO entirely to belong to Hetherington that I scarcely 
 knew the place without you." 
 
 There was something that particularly pleased Lily, in 
 the manner in which Miss Aylmer answered. Florence 
 talked a little while, and then proposed to adjourn to the 
 supplementary drawing-room — the lawn — ^where the com- 
 pany were already assembling. 
 
 Florence soon was called off to receive some other 
 guest, and Lilias spent a considerable time in sitting 
 under a tree, talking to Miss Aylmer, whom she found ex- 
 ceedingly pleasant and agreeable, remembering all that 
 had happened during their former intercourse, and inter- 
 ested in every thing that was going on. Lily was much 
 
272 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 amused when her companion asked her who that gentle- 
 man was — " that tall, thin young man, with dark hair, 
 whom she had seen once or twice speaking to Lord 
 Rotherwood." 
 
 The tall gentleman advanced, spoke to Miss Aylmer, 
 told Lily that the world was verging towards the tent, and 
 giving one arm to her and the other to Miss Aylmer, 
 took that direction. In the meantime, PhylKs had been 
 walking about with her eldest sister, and wondering what 
 had become of all the others. In process of time she 
 found herself seated on a high bench in the tent, with a 
 most beautiful pink and white sugar temple on the table 
 before her. She was between Eleanor and Frank. All 
 along on one side of the table was a row of faces which 
 she had never seen before, and she gazed at them, in search 
 of some well-known countenance. At last Mr. Weston 
 caught her eye, and nodded to her. Next to him she saw 
 Marianne, then Reginald ; on the other side, Alethea and 
 William. A little tranquillized by seeing that every one 
 was not lost, she had courage to eat some cold chicken, to 
 talk to Frank about the sugar temple, and to make an in- 
 ventory in her mind of the smartest bonnets, for Ada's 
 benefit. She was rather unhappy at not having found out 
 when grace was said before dinner, and she made Eleanor 
 promise to tell her in time to stand up after dinner. She 
 could not, however, hear much, though warned in time, 
 and by this time more at ease, and rather enjoying herself 
 than otherwise. Now Eleanor told her to listen, for 
 cousin Rotherwood was going to speak. She listened, but 
 knew not what he said, until Mr. Hawkesworth told her 
 it was Church and Queen. What Church and Queen 
 had to do with cousin Rotherwood's birthday she could 
 not imagine, and she laid it up in her mind to ask Claude. 
 
THE THIKTIETH OP JULY. 273 
 
 The next time she was told to listen she managed to hear 
 more. By the help of Eleanor's directions, she found out 
 the speaker, an aged farmer, in a drab great coat, his head 
 bald, excepting a little silky white hair, which fell over 
 the collar of his coat. It was Mr. Elderfield, the oldest 
 tenant on the estate, and he was saying in a slow deliber- 
 ate tone, that he was told he was to propose his Lordship's 
 health. It was a great honour for the like of him, and 
 his Lordship must excuse him if he did not make a fine 
 speech. All he could say was, that he had lived eighty- 
 three years on the estate, and held his farm nearly sixty 
 years; he had seen three Marquises of Eotherwood be- 
 sides his present Lordship, and he had always found them 
 very good landlords. He hoped and believed his Lord- 
 ship was like his fathers, and he was sure he could do no 
 better than tread in their steps. He proposed the health 
 of Lord Rotherwood, and many happy returns of the day 
 to him. 
 
 The simplicity and earnestness of the old man's tone 
 were appreciated by all, and the tremendous cheer, which 
 almost terrified Phyllis, was a fit assent to the hearty good 
 wishes of the old farmer. 
 
 " Now comes the trial ! " whispered Claude to Lilias, 
 after he had vehemently contributed his proportion to 
 the noise. Lilias saw that his colour had risen, as much 
 as if he had to make a speech himself, and he earnestly 
 examined the coronet on his fork, while every other eye 
 ATas fixed on the Marquis. Eloquence was not to be ex- 
 pected ; but, at least, Lord Eotherwood spoke clearly and 
 distinctly. 
 
 " My friends," said he, " you must not expect much of 
 a speech from me ; I can only thank you for your kind 
 ness, say how glad I am to see you here, and tell you of 
 12* 
 
274 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROri. 
 
 my earnest desire that I may not prove myself nnwortliy 
 to be compared witli my forefathers." Here was a pause. 
 Claude's hand shook, and Lily saw how anxious he was, 
 ' hut in another moment the Marquis went on smoothly. 
 " Now, I must ask you to drink the health of a gentleman 
 who has done his utmost to compensate for the loss which 
 we sustained nine years ago, and to whom I owe any good 
 intentions which I may bring to the management of this 
 property. I beg leave to propose the health of my uncle, 
 Mr. Mohun, of Beechcroft." 
 
 Claude was much surprised, for his cousin had never 
 given him a hint of his intention. It was a moment of 
 great delight to all the young Mohuns, when the cheer 
 rose as loud and hearty as for the young Lord himself, 
 and Phyllis smiled, and wondered when she saw her Papa 
 rise to make answer. He said that he could not attempt 
 to answer Lord Kotherwood, as he had not heard what he 
 said, but that he was much gratified by his having thought 
 of him on this occasion, and by the good-will which all had 
 expressed. This was the last speech that was interesting. 
 Lady Kotherwood's health, and a few more toasts, fol- 
 lowed, and the party then left the tent for the lawn, 
 where the cool air was most refreshing, and the last beams 
 of the evening sun were lighting the tops of the trees. 
 
 The dancing was now to begin, and this was the time 
 for Claude to be useful. He had spent so much time at 
 home, and had accompanied his father so often in his rides, 
 that he knew every one, and he was inclined to make every 
 exertion in the cause of his cousinj and on this occasion 
 seemed to have laid aside his indolence and disinclination 
 to speak to strangers. 
 
 Lady Florence was also indefatigable, darting about, 
 with a wonderful perception who every body was, and 
 
THE THIRTIETn OF JULy. 275 
 
 ffith whom eaci would like to dance. She seized upon 
 tittle Devereux Aylmer for her own partner, before any one 
 else had time to ask her, and carried him about the lawn, 
 hunting up and pairing other shy people. 
 
 " Why, Eeginald, what are you about ? You can 
 manage a country dance. Make haste; where is your 
 partner ? " 
 
 " I meant to dance with Miss Weston," said Reginald 
 piteously. 
 
 " Miss Weston? Here she is." 
 
 " That is only Marianne," said Reginald. 
 
 " Oh ! Miss Weston is dancing with William. Mari- 
 anne, will you accept my apologies for this discourteous 
 cousin of mine ? I am perfectly horror-struck. There, 
 Redgie, take her with a good grace ; you will never have 
 a better partner." 
 
 Marianne was only too glad to have Reginald pre- 
 sented to her, ungracious as he was, but the poor little 
 couple met with numerous disasters. They neither of 
 them knew the way through a country dance, and were 
 almost run over every time they went down the middle ; 
 Reginald's heels were very inconvenient to his neighbours ; 
 so much so, that once Claude thought it expedient to ad- 
 monish him, that dancing was not merely an elegant name 
 for foot-ball without a ball. Every now and then, some 
 of their friends gave them a hasty intimation that they 
 were all wrong, but that they knew already but too well. 
 At last, just when Marianne had turned scarlet with vex- 
 ation, and Reginald was growing so desperate that he had 
 thoughts of running away, the dance came to an end, and 
 Reginald, with very scanty politeness to his partner, 
 rushed away to her sister, saying, in rather a reproachful 
 tone, " Miss Weston, you promised to dance with me.'' 
 
276 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCKOFT. 
 
 " I have not forgotten my promise," said Alethea, 
 smiling. 
 
 At tlie same moment Claude hurried up, saying, " Wil- 
 liam, I want a partner for Miss Wilkins, of the Wold 
 Farm. Miss Wilkins, let me introduce Captain Mohun." 
 
 " You see I have made the Captain available," said 
 Claude, presently after meeting Lord Kotherwood, as he 
 speeded across the lawn. 
 
 " Have you ? I did not think him fair game," said the 
 Marquis. " Where is your heroine, Claude ? I have not 
 seen her dancing." 
 
 " What heroine ? What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Honest Phyl, of course. Did you think I meant 
 Miss Weston ? " 
 
 " With Eleanor, somewhere. Is the next dance a 
 quadrille ? " 
 
 Lord Eotherwood ran up the bank to the terraced 
 walks, where the undancing part of the company sat or 
 walked about. Soon he spied Phyllis standing by Eleanor, 
 looking rather wearied. " Phyllis, can you dance a quad- 
 rille ? " 
 
 Phyllis opened her eyes, and Eleanor desired her to 
 answer. 
 
 " Come, Phyllis, let me see what M. Le Eoi has done 
 for you." 
 
 He led her away, wondering greatly, and thinking how 
 very good-natured cousin Eotherwood was. 
 
 Emily was much surprised to find Phyllis her vis A 
 vis. Emily was very generally known and liked, and had 
 no lack of grand partners, but she would have liked to 
 dance with the Marquis. When the quadrille was over, 
 she was glad to put herself in his way, by coming up to 
 take charge of Phyllis. 
 
THE THIRTIETH OF JULY. 277 
 
 " Well done, Phyl," said lie ; " no mistakes. Tou 
 must have another dance. Whom shall we find for 
 you ? " 
 
 " Oh ! Kotherwood," said Emily, " you cannot think 
 how you gratified us all with your speech." 
 
 " Ah ! I always set my heart on saying something of 
 the kind ; but I wish I could have dared to add tha 
 bride's health." 
 
 « The bride ! " 
 
 " Do not pretend to have no eyes," said Lord Rother- 
 wood, with a significant glance, which directed Emily's 
 eyes to the terrace, where Mr. Mohun and Alethea were 
 walking together, in eager conversation. 
 
 Emily was ready to sink into the earth. Jane's sur- 
 mises, and the mysterious words of her father, left her no 
 further doubt. At this moment some one asked her to 
 dance,' and scarcely knowing what she did or said, she 
 walked to her place. Lord Rotherwood now found a 
 partner for Phyllis, and a farmer's daughter for himself. 
 
 This dance over, Phyllis's partner did not well know 
 how to dispose of her, and she grew rather frightened on 
 finding that none of her sisters were in sight. At last 
 she perceived Reginald standing on the bank, and made 
 her escape to him. 
 
 " Redgie, did you see who I have been dancing with ? 
 Cousin Rotherwood and Claude's grand Oxford friend — ■ 
 Mr. Travers." 
 
 " It is all nonsense," said Reginald. " Come out of 
 this mob of people." 
 
 " But where is Eleanor ? " 
 
 " Somewhere in the midst. They are all absurd to- 
 gether." 
 
278 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEEOHCROFT. 
 
 " What is the matter, Redgie ? " asked Phyllis, unable 
 to account for this extraordinary fit of misanthropy. 
 
 " Papa and William both driving me about like a 
 dog," said Reginald ; " first I danced with Miss Weston — 
 then she saw that woman — that Miss Aylmer — shook 
 hands — talked — and then nothing would serve her but to 
 find Papa. As soon as the Baron sees me, he cries out, 
 " Why are not you dancing, Eedgie ? We do not want 
 you ! " Up and down they walk, ever so long, and pre- 
 sently Papa turns off, and begins talking to Miss Aylmer. 
 Then, of course, I went back to Miss Weston, but then 
 up comes William, as savage as one of his Canadian bears ; 
 he orders me off too, and so here I am ! I am sure I am 
 not going to ask any one else to dance. Come, and walk 
 with me in peace, Phyl. Do you see them ? — Miss Wes- 
 ton and Marianne under that tulip tree, and the Captain 
 helping them to ice." 
 
 " Eedgie, did you give Miss Weston her nosegay ? 
 Some one put such beautiful flowers in it, such as I never 
 saw before.'' 
 
 " How could I ? They sent me off with Lily and 
 Jane. I told William I had the flowers in charge, and he 
 said he would take care of them. By the bye, Phyl," and 
 Reginald gave a wondrous spring, " I have it ! I have it ! 
 I have it ! If he is not in love with Miss Weston, you 
 may call me an ass for the rest of my life." 
 
 " I should not like to call you an ass, Redgie," said 
 Phyllis. 
 
 " Very likely ; but do not make- me call you one. 
 Hurrah ! Now ask Marianne if it is not so. Marianne 
 must know. How jolly ! I say, Phyl, stay there, and I 
 will fetch Marianne." 
 
 Away ran Reginald, and presently returned with Marl- 
 
THE THIRTIETII OF JULY. 279 
 
 anne, who was very glad to be invited to join Phyllis. 
 She little knew what an examination awaited her. 
 
 " Marianne," began Phyllis, " I'll tell you what — " 
 
 " No, I will do it right," said Reginald ; " you know 
 nothing about it, Phyl. Marianne, is not something going 
 on there ? " 
 
 " Going on ? " said Marianne, " Alethea is speaking to 
 Mrs. Hawkesworth." 
 
 " Nonsense, I know better, Marianne. I have a sus- 
 picion that I could tell what the Captain waa about yes- 
 terday, when he walked off after dinner." 
 
 " How very wise you think you look, Reginald ! " said 
 Marianne, laughing heartily. 
 
 " But tell us; do tell us, Marianne," said Phyllis. 
 
 " Tell you what ? " 
 
 " Whether William is going to marry Miss Weston," 
 said the straightforward Phyllis. " Redgie says so — only 
 tell us. Oh ! it would be so nice ! " 
 
 " How you blurt it out, Phyl," said Reginald " You 
 do not know how those things are managed. Mind, I 
 found it out all myself. Just say, Marianne. Am not I 
 right ? " 
 
 " I do not know whether I ought to tell," said Ma- 
 rianne. 
 
 " Oh ! then it is all right," said Jleguiald, " and I 
 found it out. Now, Marianne, there is a good girl, tell us 
 all about it." 
 
 " You know I could not say ' No' when you asked me,'' 
 said Marianne ; " I could not help it really ; but pray do 
 not tell any body, or Captain Mohun will not like it." 
 
 " Does any one know ? " said Reginald. 
 
 " Only ourselves and Mr. Mohun ; and I think Lord 
 
280 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 Kotherwood guesses, from something I heard him say to 
 Jane." 
 
 " To Jane ? " said Reginald. " That is provoking; 
 she will think she found it out all herself, and be so con- 
 ceited ! " 
 
 " You need not be afraid," said Marianne, laughing ; 
 " Jane is on a wrong scent." 
 
 " Jane ? Oh ! I should like to see her out in her reck- 
 onings ! I should like to have a laugh against her. What 
 does she think, Marianne ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I cannot tell you ; it is too bad." 
 
 " Oh ! do ; do, pray. You may whisper it if it is too 
 bad for Phyllis to hear." 
 
 " No, no," said Marianne, " it is nothing but nonsense. 
 If you hear it, Phyllis shall too ; but mind, you must 
 promise not to say anything to any body, or I do not 
 know what will become of me." 
 
 " Well, we will not," said Reginald ; " boys can always 
 keep secrets, and I'll engage for Phyl. Now for it." 
 
 " She is in a terrible fright, lest it should be Mr. 
 Mohun. She got it into her head last autumn, and all I 
 could say would not persuade her out of it. Why, she 
 always calls me aunt Marianne when we are alone. Now, 
 Reginald, here comes Maurice. Do not say any thing, I 
 beg and entreat. It is my secret, you know. I dare say 
 you will all be told to-morrow — indeed, Mamma said so — 
 but pray say nothing about me or Jane. It was only set- 
 tled yesterday evening. 
 
 At this moment Maurice came up, with a message that 
 Miss Weston and Eleanor were going away, and wanted 
 the little girls, they followed him to the tent, which had 
 beeji cleared of the tables, and lighted up, in order that 
 the dancing might be continued there. Most of their 
 
THE TUIUTIETII OF .lULV. 281 
 
 own party were collected at the entrance, watching for 
 them. Lilias came up just as they did, and exclaimed in 
 a tone of disappointment, on finding them preparing to 
 depart. She had enjoyed herself exceedingly, found plen- 
 ty of partners, and was not in the least tired. 
 
 " Why should she not stay ? " said William. " Claude 
 has engaged to stay to the end of every thing, and he 
 may as well drive her as ride the grey." 
 
 " And you, Jenny," said Mr. Mohun, " do you like to 
 stay or go ? Alethea will make room for you in the pony- 
 carriage, or you may go with Eleanor." 
 
 " With Eleanor, if you please," said Jane. 
 
 " Already, Jane ? " said Lily. " Are you tired ? " 
 
 Jane drew her aside. " Tired of hearing that I was 
 right about what you would not believe. Did you not 
 hear what he called her ? And Rotherwood has found it 
 out." 
 
 " It is all gossip and mistake," said Lily. 
 
 Here Jane was called away by Eleanor, and departed 
 with her ; Lilias went to look for her aunt or Florence, 
 but on the way, was asked to dance by Mr. Carrington. 
 
 " I suppose I may congratulate you," said he, in one of 
 the pauses in the quadrille. 
 
 Lily thought it best to misunderstand, and answered, 
 " Every thing has gone off very well." 
 
 "Very. Lord Rotherwood will be a popular man; 
 but my congratulations refer to something nearer home. I 
 think you owe us some thanks for having brought them 
 into the neighbourhood." 
 
 " Report is very kind in. making arrangements," said 
 Lily, with something of Emily's haughty courtesy. 
 
 " I hope this is something more than report," said her 
 partner. 
 
282 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 " Indeed, I believe not. I think I may safely say that 
 it is at present quite unfounded," said Lily. 
 
 Mr. Carrington, much surprised, said no more. 
 
 Lily did not believe the report sufficiently to be an- 
 noyed by it, during the excitement and pleasure of the 
 evening, and at present her principal vexation was caused 
 by the rapid diminution of the company. She and her 
 brother were the very last to depart, even Florence had 
 gone to bed, and Lady Eotherwood looked exceedingly 
 tired, kissed Lily at the foot of the stairs, pitied her for 
 going home in an open carriage, and wished her good-night 
 in a very weary tone. 
 
 " I should think you were the fiftieth lady I have 
 handed across the hall," said Lord Eother-nood, as he 
 gave Lily his arm. 
 
 " But where were the fireworks, Rotherwood ? " 
 
 " Countermanded long ago. We have had enough of 
 them. Well, I am sorry it is over." 
 
 " I am very glad it is so well over," said Claude. 
 
 " Thanks to your exertions, Claude," said the Marquis. 
 " You acted like a hero." 
 
 " Like a dancing dervish you mean," said Claude. " It 
 will suffice for my whole life." 
 
 " I hope you are not quite exhausted." 
 
 " No, thank you. I have turned over a new leaf" 
 
 " Talking of new leaves," said the Marquis, " I always 
 bad a presentiment that Emily's government would come 
 to a crisis to-day." 
 
 " Do you think it has ? " said Claude. 
 
 " Trust my word, you will hear great news to-morrow. 
 A.nd that reminds me — can you come here to-morrow 
 morning? Travers is going — I drive him to meet the 
 coach at the town, and you were talking of wanting to see 
 
THE THIRTIETn OF JULY. 283 
 
 the new windows in the Cathedral : it will be a good op 
 portunity. And dine here afterwards to talk over the 
 adventures." 
 
 " Thank you — that last I cannot do. The Baron was 
 saying it would be the first time of having us all to- 
 gether." 
 
 " Very well, besides the great news. I wish I was 
 going back with you ; it is a tame conclusion, only to go 
 to bed. If I was but to be on the scene of action to-mor- 
 row. Tell the Baron that — no, use your influence to get 
 me invited to dinner on Saturday — I really want to speak 
 to him." 
 
 " Very well," said Claude, " I'll do my best. Good- 
 night.'' 
 
 " Good-night," said the Marquis. " You have both 
 done wonders. Still, I wish it was to come over again." 
 
 " Few people would say so," said Lily, as they drove 
 off 
 
 " Few would say so if they thought so," said Claude. 
 " I have been quite admiring the way Rotherwood has 
 gone on — enjoying the fun as if he was nobody — just as 
 Reginald might, making other people happy, and making 
 no secret of his satisfaction in it all." 
 
 " Very free from affectation and nonsense," said Lily, 
 " as William said of him last Christmas. You were in a 
 fine fright about his speech, Claude." 
 
 " More than I ought to have been. I should have 
 known that he is too simple-minded and straightforward, 
 to say anything but just what he ought. What a nice 
 person that Miss Ayhner is." 
 
 " Is not she, Claude? I was very glad you had her for 
 a neighbour. Happy the children who have her for a 
 governess. How sensible and gentle she seems. The 
 
284: EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BBECHCROFT. 
 
 Westons — But oh! Claude, tell me one thing, did you 
 hear—" 
 
 " "Well, what ? " 
 
 "I am ashamed to say. That preposterous report 
 about Papa. Why Rotherwood himself seems to believe 
 it, and Mr. Carrington began to congratulate — " 
 
 " The public has bestowed so many ladies on the Ba- 
 ron, that I wonder it is not tired," said Claude. " It is 
 time it should patronize William instead." 
 
 " Eotherwood is not the public," said Lily, " and he is 
 the last person to say anything impertinent of Papa. And 
 I myself heard Papa call her Alethea, which he never used 
 to do. Claude, what do you think? " 
 
 After a long pause Claude slowly replied, " Think ? 
 Why, I think Miss Weston must be a person of great 
 courage. She begins the world as a grandmother, to say 
 nothing of her eldest daughter and son being considerably 
 her seniors." 
 
 " I do not believe it,'' said Lily. " Do you, Claude ? " 
 
 " I cannot make up my mind — it is too amazing. My 
 hair is still standing on end. When it comes down, I may 
 be able to tell you something.' 
 
 Such were the only answers that Lily could extract 
 from him. He did not sufficiently disbelieve the report, 
 to treat it with scorn, yet he did not sufficiently credit it, 
 to resign himself to such a state of things. 
 
 On coming home, Lily found Emily and Jane in her 
 room, eagerly discussing the circumstances, which, to their 
 prejudiced eyes, seemed strong confirmation. While their 
 tongues were in full career, the door opened, and Eleanor 
 appeared. She told them it was twelve o'clock, tui-ned 
 Jane out of the room, and made Emily and Lily promise 
 not to utter another syllable that night. 
 
TEE CRISIS. 28i; 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE CRISIS. 
 
 '* * Is this your care of the nest? ' cried be, 
 * It comes of your gadding abroad," said sbo. 
 
 To the consternation of the disconsolate damsels, the firet 
 news they heard the next morning, was that Mr. Mohim 
 was gone to breakfast at Broomhill, and the intelligence 
 was received by Frank Hawkesworth with a smile which 
 they thought perfectly malicious. Frank, WUliam, and 
 Reginald, talked a little at breakfast about the fHe, but 
 no one joined them, and Claude looked so grave, that 
 Eleanor was eonvined that he had a headache, and vainly 
 tried to persuade him to remain at home, instead of set- 
 ting off to Devereux Castle immediately after breakfast. 
 
 The past day had not been spent in vain by Ada. Mrs. 
 Weston had led her by degrees to open her heart to her, 
 had made her perceive the real cause of her father's dis- 
 pleasure, see her faults, and promise to confess them, a 
 promise which she performed with many tears, as soon as 
 she saw Eleanor in the morning. 
 
 On telling this to Emily, Eleanor was surprised to find 
 that she was not listened to with much satisfaction. Ehnily 
 seemed to think it a piece of interference on the part of 
 Mrs. Weston, and would not allow that it was likely to be 
 the beginning of improvement in Ada. 
 
 " The words were put into her mouth," said she ; " and 
 they were an easy way of escaping from her present state 
 of disgrace." 
 
286 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 " On the contrary," said Eleanor, '' she seemed to think 
 that she justly deserved to be in disgrace." 
 
 " Did you thmk so ? " said Emily, in a careless tone. 
 
 " You are in a strange mood to-day, Emily," said 
 Eleajior. 
 
 "Ami? I did not know it. I wonder where Lily is." 
 
 Lily was in her own room, teaching Phyllis. Phyllis 
 was rather wild and flighty that morning, scarcely able to 
 command her attention, and every now and then bursting 
 into an irrepressible fit of laughter. Eeginald and Phyl- 
 lis found it difficult to avoid betraying Marianne, and as 
 soon as luncheon was over, they agreed to set out on a 
 long expedition into the woods, where they might enjoy 
 their wonderful secret together.. Just at this time, Mr. 
 Mohun returned. He came into the drawing-room, and 
 Lilias, perceiving that the threatened conversation with 
 Emily was about to take place, made her escape to her 
 own room, whither she was presently followed by Jane, 
 who could not help running after her to report the great 
 news, that Emily was to be deposed. 
 
 " I am sure of it," said she. " They sent me out of 
 the room, but not before I had seen certain symptoms." 
 
 " It is very hard that poor Emily should bear all the 
 blame," said Lily. 
 
 " You have managed to escape it very well," said Jane, 
 laughing. " You have all the thanks and praise. I sup- 
 pose it is because the intimacy with Miss Weston was 
 your work." 
 
 " I will not believe that nonsense," said Lily. 
 
 " Seeing is believing, they say," said Jane. " Re- 
 member, it is not only me. Think of Rotherwood. And 
 Maurice guesses it too, and Redgie told him great things 
 were going on." 
 
THE cnisis. 287 
 
 While Jane was speaking, they heard the drawing- 
 room door open, and in another moment Emily came in. 
 
 It was true that, as Jane said, she had been deposed. 
 Mr. Mohun had begun by saying, " Emily, can you bring 
 me such an account of your expenditure as I desired ? " 
 
 'I scarcely think I can. Papa," 'said Emily. "I am 
 sorry to say that my accounts are rather in confusion." 
 
 " That is to say, that you have been as irregular in 
 the management of your own affairs as you have in mine. 
 Well, I have paid your debt to Lilias, and from this time 
 forward, I require of you to reduce your expenses to the 
 sum which I consider suitable, and which both Eleanor 
 and Lilias have found perfectly sufficient. And now, 
 Emily, what have you to say for the management of my 
 affairs ? Can you offer any excuse for your utter failure ? " 
 
 "Indeed, Papa, I am very sorry I vexed you," said 
 Emily. " Our illness last autumn — different things — I 
 know all has not been quite as it should be; but I hope 
 that in future I shall profit by jpast experience." 
 
 " I hope so," said Mr. Mohun, " but I am afraid to 
 trust the management of the family to you any longer. 
 Tour trial is over, and you have failed, merely because 
 you would not exert yourself, from wilful indolence and 
 negligence. You have not attended to any one thing 
 committed to your charge — you have placed temptation in 
 Esther's way — and allowed Ada to tak-e up habits which 
 wiU not be easily corrected. I should not think myself 
 justified in leaving you in charge any longer, lest worse 
 mischief should ensue. I wish you to give up the keys to 
 Eleanor for the present." 
 
 Mr. Mohun would perhaps have added something, if 
 Emily had shown signs of repentance, or even of sorrow. 
 The moment was at least as painful to him as to her, and 
 
288 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 he had prepared himself to expect either hysterical tears, 
 with vows of amendment, or else an argument ©n her side 
 that she was right, and every body else wrong. But there 
 was nothing of the kind ; Emily neither spoke nor looked ; 
 she only carried the tokens of her authority to Eleanor, 
 and left the room. She thought she knew well enough 
 the cause of her deposition, considered it quite as a mat- 
 ter of course, and departed on purpose to avoid hearing 
 the announcement which she expected to follow. 
 
 She was annoyed by finding her sisters in her room, 
 and especially irritated by Jane's tone, as she eagerly 
 asked, " Well, what did he say ? " 
 
 " Never mind," replied Emily, pettishly. 
 
 " Was it about Miss Weston ? " persisted Jane. 
 
 " Not actually, but I saw it was coming," said Emily. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Jane, " I was just telling Lily that she 
 owes all her present favour to her having been Alethea's 
 bosom friend." 
 
 " I confess I thought Miss Weston was assuming au- 
 thority long ago," said Emily. 
 
 " Emily, how can you say so ? " cried Lily. " How 
 can you be so unjust and ungrateful ? I donot believe this 
 report ; but if it should be true, are not these foolish 
 expressions of dislike, so many attempts to make yourself 
 undutiful ? " 
 
 " I have rather more sincerity, more dignity, more at- 
 tachment to my own mother, than to try to gain favour by 
 affecting what I do not feel," said Emily. 
 
 " Rather cutting, Emily," said Jane. 
 
 " Do not give that speech an application which Emily 
 did not intend," said Lily, sadly. 
 
 " What makes you think I did not intend it ? " said 
 Emily, coldly. 
 
THE CRISIS. 289 
 
 " Emily ! " exclaimed Lily, starting up, and colouring 
 violently, " are you thinking what you are saying ? " 
 
 " I do not know what you mean," replied Emily, 
 quietly, in her soft, unchanging voice ; "I only mean that 
 if you can feel satisfied with the new arrangement, you 
 are more easily pleased than I am." 
 
 " Only tell me, Emily, do you accuse me of attempt- 
 ing to gain favour in an unworthy manner ? " 
 
 " I only congratulate you on standing so well with 
 every one." 
 
 Lily hid her face in her hands. At this moment, 
 Eleanor opened the door, saying, " Can you come down ? 
 Mrs. Burnet is here." Eleanor went without observing 
 Lily, and Emily was obliged to follow. Jane lingered in 
 order to comfort Lily. 
 
 " You know she did not quite mean it," said she ; 
 " she is only very much provoked." 
 
 " I know, I know," said Lily ; " she is very sorry 
 herself by this time. Of course she did not mean it, but 
 it is the first unkind thing she ever said to me. It is 
 very silly and very unjust to take it seriously, but I can- 
 not help it." 
 
 " It is a very abominable shame," said Jane, " and so 
 I shaU tell Emily." 
 
 " No, do not, Jenny, I beg. I know she thinks so 
 herself, and grieves too much over it. No wonder she is 
 viaxed. All my faults have come upon her. You had 
 better go down, Jane ; Mrs. Burnet is always vexed if 
 she does not see a good many of us, and I am sure I can- 
 not go. Besides, Emily dislikes having that girl to 
 entertain." 
 
 " Lily, you are so very gentle and forgiving, that I 
 13 
 
290 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCBOFT. 
 
 wonder how any one can say wtat grieves you," said Jane, 
 for once struck with admiration. 
 
 She went, and Lily remained, weeping over the injustice 
 which she had forgiven, and feeling as if, all the time, it 
 was fair that the rule of " love" should, as it were, recoil 
 upon her. Her tears flowed fast, as ^he went over the long 
 line of faults and follies which lay heavy on her conscience. 
 And Emily against her ! That sister, who from her infancy 
 had soothed her in every trouble, of whose sympathy she 
 had always felt sure, whose gentleness had been her admira- 
 tion in her days of sharp answers and violent temper, who 
 had seemed her own beyond all the others ; this wound 
 from her gave liily a bitter feeling of desertion and lone- 
 liness. It was like a completion of her punishment — 
 the broken reed on which she leant had pierced her 
 deeply. 
 
 She was still sitting on the side of her bed, weeping, 
 when a slight tap at the door made her start — a gentle tap, 
 the sound of which she had learned to love, in her illness. 
 The next moment Alethea stood before her, with out- 
 stretched arms. This was a time to feel the value of such a 
 friend, and every suspicion passing from her mind, she flew 
 to Alethea, kissed her again and again, and laid her head 
 on her shoulder. Her caress was returned with equal 
 warmth. 
 
 " But how is this ? " said Alethea, now perceiving that 
 her face was pale, and marked by tears. " How is this, my 
 dear Lily ? " 
 
 • " Oh, Alethea ! I cannot tell you, but it is all misery. 
 The full effect of my baneful principle has appeared ! " 
 
 "Has any thing happened? " exclaimed Alethea. 
 
 " No," said Lily. " There is nothing new, except the—' 
 Oh ! I cannot tell you." 
 
TUE CRISIS. 291 
 
 " I wish I could do any thing for you, my poor Lily,' 
 Baid Alethea. 
 
 " You can look kind," said Lily, '' and that is a great 
 comfort. Oh ! Alethea, it was very'kind of you to come 
 and speak to me. I shall do now — I can bear it all better. 
 You have a comforting face and voice like nobody else. 
 "When did you come'? Have you been in the drawing- 
 room?" 
 
 " No," said Alethea. " I walked here with Marianne, 
 and finding there were visitors in the drawing-room, we 
 went to Ada, and she told me where to find you. I had 
 something to tell you — but perhaps you know already." 
 
 The colour on her cheek recalled all Lily's fears, and to 
 hear the news from herself was an unexpected trial. She 
 felt as if what she had said justified Emily's reproach, and 
 turning away her head, replied, " Yes, I know." 
 
 Alethea was a little hurt by her coldness, but she as- 
 scribed it to dejection and embarrassment, and blamed her- 
 self for hurrying on what she had to tell, without sufiicient 
 regard for Lily's distress. There was an awkward pause, 
 which Alethea broke, by saying, " Your brother thought 
 you would like to hear it from me." 
 
 " My brother ! " cried Lily, with a most sudden change 
 of tone. " William ? Oh, Alethea! dearest Alethea ! I beg 
 your pardon. They almost made me believe it was Papa ! 
 Oh ! I am so very glad ! " 
 
 Alethea could not help laughing, and Lily joined her 
 heartily. It was one of the brightest hours of her life, 
 as she sat with her hand in her friend's, pouring out her 
 eager expressions of delight and affection. All her troubles 
 were forgotten — ^how should they not, when Alethea was 
 to be her sister ! It seemed as if but a few minutes had 
 passed, when the sound of the great clock warned Alethea 
 
292 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT, 
 
 tkat it was time to return to.Broomliill, and she asked Lilias 
 to walk back with her. After summoning Marianne, they 
 set out through the garden, where, on being joined by 
 William, Lily thought it expedient to betake herself to 
 Marianne, who was but too glad to be able freely to .com- 
 municate many interesting particulars. At Broomhill, she 
 had a very enjoyable talk with Mrs. "Weston, but her chief 
 delight was in her walk with her brother. She was high in 
 his favour, as Alethea's chief friend. Though usually re- 
 served, he was now open, and Lily wondered to find her- 
 self honoured with confidence. His attachment had begun 
 in very early days, when first he knew the Westons at 
 Brighton. Harry's death had suddenly called him away, 
 and a few guarded expressions of his wishes in the course 
 of the next winter, had been cut short by his father. 
 He then went to Canada, and had had no opportunity of 
 renewing his acquaintance till the last winter, when, on 
 coming home, to his great joy and surprise, he found the 
 "Westons on the most intimate terms with his family. He 
 then spoke to his father, who wished him to take a little 
 more time for consideration, and he had accordingly waited 
 till the summer. Lily longed to know his plans for the 
 future, and presently he went on to say, that his father 
 wished him to leave the army, live at home, and let Ale- 
 thea be the head of the household. 
 
 " Oh, "William ! it is perfect. There is an end of all 
 our troubles. It is as if a great black curtain was drawn 
 up.'' 
 
 " They say such plans never succeed," said "William ; 
 " but we mean to prove the contrary." 
 
 " How good it will be for the children," said Lily 
 '■' Oh ! why had we not such a guide at first ? " 
 
 '' She has all that Eleanor wants," said William. 
 
THE CRISIS. 293 
 
 " My follies were not Eleanor's fault," said Lily , 
 " but I do think I sliould not have been quite so silly, if 
 I had known Alethea from the first." 
 
 It was not in the power of William himself to say 
 more in her praise than Lily. In the eagerness of their 
 conversation, they walked slowly, and as they were cross- 
 ing the last field, the dinner-bell rang. As they quickened 
 their steps, they saw Mr. Mohun looking at his wheat. 
 Lily told him how late it was. 
 
 " There,'' said he, '' I am always looking after other 
 people's afiairs. Between Kotherwood and WiUiam, I have 
 not a moment for my own crops. However, my turn is 
 coming. William will have it all on his hands, and the 
 old deaf useless Baron will sit in his great chair, and take 
 his ease." 
 
 " Not a bit. Papa," said Lily, " the Baron will grow 
 young, and take to dancing. He is talking nonsense al- 
 ready." 
 
 " Eh ! Miss Lily turned saucy ? Mrs. William Mo- 
 hun must take her in hand. Well, Lily, has he your con- 
 sent and approbation ? " 
 
 " I only wish this was eighteen months ago, Papa." 
 
 " We shall soon come into order, Lily. With Miss 
 Aylmer for the little ones, and Mrs. Mohun for the great 
 ones, I have little fear." 
 
 " Miss Aylmer, Papa ? " 
 
 " Yes, if all turns out well. We propose to find a 
 house for her and her mother in the village, and let her 
 come every day to teach the little ones." 
 
 " Oh ! I am very glad. We liked her so much." 
 
 " I hope," said Mr. Mohun, " that this plan will please 
 Claude better than my proposal of a governess last month. 
 He looked as if he expected Minerva with helmet, and 
 
294 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT EEEOIICROBT. 
 
 ^o-Is and all. Now make haste and dress. Do not let us 
 
 o 
 
 Bhock Eleanor, by keeping dinner waiting longer than we 
 can help." 
 
 Lilias found that her sisters had long been dressed and 
 gone down. She dressed alone, every now and then 
 smiling at her own happy looks, reflected in the glass. 
 Just as she had finished, Claude knocked at the door, and 
 putting in his head, said, " Well, Lily, has the wonderful 
 news come forth ? I see it has, by your face." 
 
 " And do you know what it is, Claude ? " said Lily. 
 
 " I know what Rotherwood meant, and I cannot think 
 where all our senses were." 
 
 " And, Claude, only say that you like her." 
 
 " I think it is a very good thing, indeed." 
 
 " Only say that you cordially like her." 
 
 " I do. I admire her sense and her gentleness very 
 much, and I think you owe a great deal to her. " 
 
 " Then you allow that you were unjust last summer." 
 
 " I do ; but it was owing to you. You were somewhat 
 foolish, and I thought it was her fault. Besides, I was 
 quite tired of hearing that extraordinary name of hers for 
 ever repeated." 
 
 Here they were summoned to dinner, and hurried down. 
 
 The dinner passed very strangely ; some were in very 
 high spirits, others in a very melancholy mood ; Eleanor 
 and Maurice alone preserved the golden mean ; and the 
 behaviour of the merry ones was perfectly unintelligible to 
 the rest. Eeginald, still bound by his promise to Marianne, 
 was wild to make his discovery known, and behaved in such 
 a strange and comical manner, as to call forth varioua 
 reproofs from Eleanor, which provoked double mirth 
 from the others. The cause of their amusement was os- 
 tensibly the talking over of yesterday's /ute, but the laugh- 
 
THE CUISIS. 295 
 
 ing was more than adequate, even to the wonderful collec- 
 tion of odd speeches and adventures which were detailed. 
 Emily and Jane could not guess what had come to Lily, 
 and thought her merriment very ill-placed. Yet, in justice 
 to Lily, it must be said, that her joy no longer made her 
 wild and thoughtless. There was something guarded and 
 subdued about her, which made Claude reflect how different 
 she was from the untamed girl of last summer, who could 
 not be happy without a sort of intoxication. 
 
 The ladies returned to the drawing-room, where Ada 
 now appeared for the first time, and while they were con- 
 gratulating her, Mt. Mohun summoned Eleanor away. Jane 
 followed at a safe distance to see where they went. They 
 shut themselves into the study, and Jane, now meeting Mau- 
 rice, went into the garden with him. " It must be coming 
 now," said she. " Oh ! there are William and Claude talk- 
 ing under the plane-tree." 
 
 " Claude has his cunning smile on," said Maurice. 
 
 " No wonder," said Jane, " it is very absurd. I dare 
 say William will hardly ever come home now. One com- 
 fort is, they will see I was right from the first." 
 
 Jane and Maurice remained in the garden till tea-time, 
 and thus missed hearing the whole affair discussed in the 
 drawing-room between Emily, Lilias, and Frank. This 
 was the first news that Emily heard of it, and a very great 
 relief it was, for she could imagine liking, and even lov- 
 ing, Alethea as a sister-in-law. Her chief annoyance was 
 at present from the perception of the difference between 
 her own position and that of Lilias. Last year, how was 
 Lily regarded in the family, and what was her opinion 
 worth ? Almost nothing ; she was only a clever, romantic, 
 silly girl, while Emily had credit at least for discretion. 
 Now Lily was consulted and sought out by father, broth 
 
206 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 ers, Eleanor — no longer treated as a child. Aud what 
 was Emily ? Blamed or pitied on every side, and left to 
 hear this important news from the chance mention of her 
 brother-in-law, himself not fully informed. She had be- 
 come nobody, and had even lost the satisfaction, such as it 
 was, of fancying that her father only made her bad manage- 
 ment an excuse for his marriage. She heard many partic- 
 ulars from Lily in the course of the evening, as they were 
 going to bed ; and the sisters talked with all their wonted 
 affection, although Emily had not thought it worth while to 
 revive an old grievance, by asking Lily's pardon for her un- 
 kind speech, and rested satisfied with the knowledge that 
 her sister knew her heart too well to care for what she said 
 in a moment of irritation. On the other hand, Lily did not 
 think that she had a right to mention the plan of Alethea's 
 government ; and the next day she was glad of her reserve, 
 for her father called her to share his early walk for the pur- 
 pose of talking over the scheme, telling her that he thought 
 she understood the state of things better than Eleanor 
 could, and that he considered that she had sufficient influ- 
 ence with Emily to prevent her from making Alethea un- 
 comfortable. The conclusion of the conversation was, that 
 they thought they might depend upon Emily's amiability, 
 her courtesy, and her dislike of trouble, to balance her love 
 of importance and dignity. And that Alethea would do 
 nothing to hurt her feelings, and would assume no authority 
 that she could help, they felt convinced. 
 
 After breakfast, Mr. Mohun called Emily into his study, 
 informed her of his resolution, to which she listened with 
 her usual submissive manner, and told her, that he trusted 
 to her good sense and right feeling to obviate any collisions 
 of authority which might be unpleasant to Alethea, and 
 hurtful to the younger ones. She promised all that was 
 
THE CRISIS. 297 
 
 desired, and though, at the moment, she felt hurt and 
 grieved, she almost immediately recovered her usual spirits, 
 never high, but always serene, and only seeking for easy 
 amusement and comfort in whatever happened. There was 
 no public disgrace in her deposition ; it would not seem 
 unnatural to the neighbours that her brother's wife should 
 be at the head of the house. She would gain credit for 
 her amiability, and she would no longer be responsible or 
 obliged to exert herself; and as to Alethea herself, she 
 could not help respecting and almost loving her. It was 
 very well it was no worse. 
 
 In the meantime, Lily, struck by a sudden thought, 
 had hastened to her mother's little deserted morning-room, 
 to see if it could not be made a delightful abode for Ale- 
 thea ; and she was considering of its capabilities, when she 
 started at the sound of an approaching step. It was the 
 rapid and measured tread of the Captain, and in a few mo- 
 ments he entered. " Thank you," said he, smiling, " you 
 are on the same errand as myself" 
 
 " Exactly so," said Lily ; " it will do capitally ; how 
 pretty Long Acre looks, and what a beautiful view of the 
 Church ! " 
 
 " This room used once to be pretty," said William, look- 
 ing round, disappointed, " it is very forlorn." 
 
 " Ah ! but it will look very different when the chaira 
 do not stand with their backs to the wall. I do not think 
 Alethea knows of this room, for nobody has sat in it for 
 years, and we will make it a surprise. And here is your 
 own picture, at ten years old, over the fire-place ! I have 
 such a vision, you will not know the room when I have set 
 it to rights." 
 
 They went on talking eagerly of the improvements 
 that might be made, and from thence came to other sub- 
 
208 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCEOFT. 
 
 jects — Alethea herself, and the future plans. At last 
 William asked if Lily knew what made Jane look as de- 
 plorable as she had done for the last two days, and Lily 
 was obliged to tell him, with the addition, that Eleanor 
 had begun to inform her of the real fact, but that she had 
 stopped her by declaring that she had known it all from^the 
 first. Just as they had mentioned her, Jane, attracted by 
 the unusual sound of voices in Lady Emily's room, came 
 in, asking; what they could be doing there. Lily would 
 scarcely have dared to reply, but William said, in a grave 
 matter-of-fact way, " We are thinking of having this room 
 newly fitted up." 
 
 "For Alethea Weston ? " said Jane; "how can you, 
 Lily ? I should have thought, at least, it was no laughing 
 matter." 
 
 " I advise you to follow Lily's example, and make the 
 best of it," said William. , 
 
 " I do, but it is another thing to stand laughing here. 
 I see one thing that I shall do — I shall take away your 
 picture and hang it in my room." 
 
 " We shall see," said William, following LiUas, who had 
 left the room to hide her laughter. 
 
 To mystify Jane, was the great amusement of the day ; 
 Eeginald, finding Maurice possessed with the same notion, 
 did more to mantain it than the others would have thought 
 right, and Maurice reporting his speeches to Jane, she had 
 not the least doubt that her idea was correct. Lord 
 Kotherwood came to dinner, and no sooner had he entered 
 the drawing-room, than Eeginald, rejoicing in the absence 
 of the parties concerned, informed him of the joke, much 
 to his diversion, though rather to the discomfiture of the 
 more prudent spectators, who might have wished it confined 
 to themselves. 
 
THE cniBis. 299 
 
 " It lias gone far enough," said Claude ; " she will say 
 something she will repent, if we do not take care." 
 
 " I should like to reduce her to humble herself to ask 
 an explanation from Marianne," said Lily. 
 
 " And pray, don't spoil the joke before I have enjoyed 
 it," said Lord Kotherwood. " My years of discretion 
 are not such centuries of wisdom as those of that gentle- 
 man who looks as grim as his name-sake the Emperor on a 
 coin." 
 
 The entrance t)f Eleanor and Jane here put an end to 
 the conversation, which was not renewed till the evening 
 when the younger, or as Claude called it, the middle-aged 
 part of the company were sitting on the lawn, leaving the 
 drawing-room to the elder and more prudent, and the tor- 
 race to the wilder and more active. Emily was talking of 
 Mrs. Burnet's visit of the day before, and her opinion of 
 the Hetherington festivities. " And what an interminable 
 visit it was," said Jane. " I thought they would never 
 
 go ! " 
 
 "People always inflict themselves in a most merciless 
 manner when there is any thing going on," said Emily. 
 
 "I wonder if they' guessed anything," said Lily. 
 
 " To be sure they did, and staid out of curiosity," said 
 Lord_ Kotherwood. " In spite of Emily's dignified contra- 
 dictions of the report, every one knew it the other evening. 
 It was all in vain that she behaved as if I was speaking 
 treason — people have eyes." 
 
 " Ah ! I am very sorry for that contradiction," said 
 Lily ; " I hope people will not fancy we do not like it." 
 
 " No, it will only prove my greatness," said Lord 
 Kotherwood. Yo el Marques, was China in the map, so 
 absorbing all beholders that the magnanimous Mohuns 
 themselves — " 
 
300 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCROFT. 
 
 "What nonsease, Kotherwood," said Jane, sLarplj; 
 " can't you suppose that one may shut one's eyes to what 
 one does not wish to see ? " 
 
 The singular inappropriateness of this answer occasioned 
 a general roar of laughter, and she looked in perplexity. 
 Every one whom she asked why they laughed, replied by 
 saying, " ask Marianne Weston ;" and at length, after much 
 puzzling and guessing, and being more laughed at than had 
 ever before happened to her in her life, she was obliged to 
 seek an explanation from Marianne, who might well have 
 triumphed had she been so disposed. Jane's character for 
 penetration was entirely destroyed, and the next morning 
 she received, as a present from Claude, an old book, which 
 had long belonged to the nursery, entitled " A Puzzle for 
 a Curious Girl." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 '" Tuere let Hjrmen oil appear 
 In Eaflfon robe, with taper clear, 
 And pomp, and fe&st, and revelry, 
 And mask, and antique i^ageantry; 
 Such Bights as youthful poets dream 
 On summer eves, by haunted stream." 
 
 On the morning of a fine day, late in September, the 
 Beeohoroft bells were ringing merrily, and a wedding pro- 
 cession was entering the gate of the Churchyard. 
 
 In the afternoon there was a great feast on the top of 
 the hill, attended by all the Mohuns, who were forced, to 
 Lily's great satisfaction, to give it there, as there was no 
 
CONCLUSION. 301 
 
 space in the grounds at the New Court. All was wonder- 
 fully suitable t;o old times, inasmuch as the Baron was 
 actually persuaded to sit for five minutes under the Yew- 
 tree, where " Mohun's chair" ought to have been, and the 
 cricketers were of all ranks, from the Marquis of Rother- 
 wood to little Dick Grey. 
 
 The wedding had been hurried on, and the wedding 
 tour was shortened, in order that Mrs. William Mohun 
 might be installed as mistress of the New Court, before 
 Eleanor's departure, which took place early in October ; 
 and shortly after, Mrs. Ridley, who had come on a visit to 
 Beechcroft, to take leave of her brother, returned to the 
 north, taking with her the little Harry. He was nearly a 
 year old, and it gave great pain to his young aunts to part 
 with him, now that he had endeared himself to them by 
 many engaging ways ; but Lily felt herself too unequal to 
 the task of training him up to make any objection, and 
 there were many promises that he should not be a 
 stranger to his grandfather's home. 
 
 Mrs. and Miss Aylmer had been about a month set- 
 tled at a superior sort of cottage, near the New Court, 
 with Mrs. Eden for their servant. Lord Rotherwood had 
 fitted out the second son, who sailed for India with Mr. 
 and Mrs. Hawkesworth, had sent Dovereux to school, and 
 was lying in wait to see what could be done for the two 
 others, and Jane was congratulated far more than she 
 wished, on having been the means of discovering such an 
 excellent governess. Jane was now a regular inhabitant 
 of the school-room, as much tied down to lessons and 
 school-room hours as her two little sisters, with the pros- 
 pect of so continuing for two years, if not for three. 
 She made one attempt to be pert to Miss Aylmer ; but 
 something in the manner of her governess quite baffled her, 
 
302 EIGHTEEN MONTHS AT BEECHCKOET. 
 
 and she was obliged to be more obedient than she had ever 
 been. The mischief which Emily and Liliaa had done to 
 her, by throwing off their allegiance to Eleanor, and thua 
 unconsciously leading her to set her at nought, was, at her 
 age, not to be so easily repaired ; yet with no opportunity 
 for gossiping, and, with an involuntary respect for her 
 governess, there were hopes that she would lose the habit 
 of her two great faults. There certainly was an improve- 
 ment in her general tone and manner, which made Mr. 
 Devereux hope that he might soon resume with her the 
 preparation for confirmation which had been cut short the 
 year before. 
 
 Phyllis and Adeline had been possessed by Reginald 
 with a great dread of governesses ; and they were agree- 
 a))ly surprised in Miss Aylmer, whom they found neither 
 cross nor strict, and always willing to forward their amuse- 
 ments, and let them go out with their papa and sisters 
 whenever they were asked. Phyllis, without much annoy- 
 ance to one so obedient, was trained into more civilization, 
 and Ada's more serious faults were duly watched and 
 guarded against. The removal of Esther was a great ad- 
 vantage to Ada; an older and more steady person was 
 taken in her place ; while to the great relief of Mr. Mohun 
 and Lilias, Rachel Harvey took Esther to her brother's 
 farm-house, where she promised to watch and teach her, 
 and hoped in time to make her a good servant. 
 
 Of Emily there is little to say. She eat, drank, and 
 slept, talked agreeably, read idle books, and looked nice in 
 the drawing-room, wasting time, throwing away talents, 
 weakening the powers of her mind, and laying up a store 
 of sad reflections for herself against the time when she 
 must awake from her selfish apathy. 
 
 As to Lilias Mohun, the heroine of this tale, the his- 
 
CONCLUSION. 302 
 
 lory of tlie formation of her character has been told, and 
 all that remains to he said of her is, that the memory of 
 her faults and sorrows did not fleet away like a morning 
 cloud, though followed by many happy and prosperous 
 days, and though the effects of many were repaired. 
 Agnes's death, Esther's theft, Ada's accident, the schism 
 in the parish, and her own numerous mistakes, were con- 
 stantly recalled, and never without a thought of the dan- 
 ger of being wise above her elders, and taking mere feel 
 ing for Christian charity. 
 
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 17. ST. RONAN'S WELL. 25 
 
 18. REDGAUNTLET 25 
 
 19. THE BETROTHED, 
 and HIGHLAND WI- 
 DOW 25 
 
 20. THE TALISMAN 25 
 
 21. WOODSTOCK 25 
 
 22. FAIR MAID OF 
 PERTH 25 
 
 23. ANNE OP GEIEE- 
 STEIN 25 
 
 24. COUNT ROBERT OF 
 PARIS 25 
 
 25. THE SURGEON'S 
 DAUGHTER 25 
 
 The Complete Popular Library Edition of the Wa- 
 verley Novels. Handsomely printed, in good clear type. 
 Illustrated with numerous Engravings, and a Steel-plate Portrait 
 of the Author. 6 vols., small 8vo. (Uniform with the " Popu- 
 lar Library Edition of Dickens.") Cloth, extra, $10.50. 
 
M 
 
 
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