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 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS
 
 SIR GODFREYS 
 GRAND- DAUGHTERS 
 
 a morel 
 
 ROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY 
 
 ALTHOR OF 
 NELLIE'S MEMORIES,' ' LOVER OR FRIEND," 'NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS,' ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON 
 RICHARD BENT LEY AND SON 
 
 ^tthlishers in ©rbinarj) to ^)£T JKajcstjo the Qneett. 
 1892 
 
 [A// rights reserved]
 
 8 2.3 
 C 1?S 
 
 V. I 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. DR. LYALL DISLIKES HIS SITUATION - - I 
 
 II. FIVE MINUTES LATE BY GRANDFATHER'S 
 
 CLOCK - - - - - 17 
 
 III. BREAKING THE ICE - - - "35 
 
 ' IV 'HE 15 A DEAR, GOOD FELLOW !' - - 56 
 
 V. A I'AGE OUT OF THE HAMLYN RECORDS - 74 
 
 ^ VI. ' IT SHALL BE NOBODY ' - - - 96 
 w 
 
 VII. A TROUBLESOME PATIENT - - - I16 
 
 ;\ VIII. WON BY THE MAJORITY - - "137 
 
 ^ IX. ON THE CHILVERTON ROAD - - - 1 58 
 
 ^ X. AN INNOCENT MATCHMAKER - - "179 
 
 XI. GERARD FINDS HIS OPPORTUNITY - - 194 
 
 I XII. 'you have HELPED xME ' - - " 215 
 
 ^ XIII. SIR GODFREY HAS A TOUCH OF GOUT - 237 
 
 -) XIV. ST. jude's vicarage - - - - 258 
 
 ^. XV. TWILIGHT CONFIDENCES - - - 277 
 5 XVI. PAMELA ----- 297 
 
 5 XVII. 'with dr. and MISS lyall's compliments' 313
 
 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND 
 DAUGHTERS 
 
 CHAPTER I, 
 
 DR. LYALL DISLIKES HIS SITUATION. 
 
 ' Vessels large may venture more, 
 But little boats should keep near shore.' 
 
 Benjamin Franklin. 
 
 ' My good sir, I must protest ' 
 
 ' My dear sir, not a word ! I will take 
 no refusal ; I will give no countenance to 
 such a suicidal plan. Where are my people ? 
 Here ! — Rogers, Stephens, one of you fellows 
 — run up to the Hall, tell Mrs. Meredith 
 that the bachelor's room is to be got ready 
 for this gentleman : fire, hot water — she will 
 understand. Look sharp ! Don't stand there 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 2 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Staring at me ; off with you ! — Now, my dear 
 sir, take my arm and walk as fast as you can. 
 Mind I the ground is slippery. I dare not 
 take you by the short-cut ; we should both 
 come to grief. To be sure ' — in answer to a 
 mute response, very significant in its meaning 
 — * I forgot your wet clothes. Shall I lead 
 the way ? We have only half a mile before 
 us.' 
 
 What a ridiculous position ! It was im- 
 possible to get in a word with this garrulous 
 old gentleman. He was evidently master of 
 the situation ; he had turned a deaf ear to 
 every remonstrance. Here was he, Dr. 
 Lyall, delivered up, a shivering, unwilling 
 captive, into the hands of this arbitrary 
 stranger. What would Pamela say if she 
 could see him now — his clothes dripping 
 with water, his teeth chattering, dragging him- 
 self over the frozen ground at the heels of this 
 nimble-footed and straight-backed old gentle- 
 man ? Never before had he found himself 
 in such an absurd predicament, and if there 
 w^ere anything that Dr. Lyall detested from 
 the bottom of his heart, it was fuss, bustle, or 
 commotion of any kind. He was a quiet 
 man^ self- restrained, and with a sense of
 
 DR. LYALL DISLIKES HIS SITUATION 3 
 
 humour ; and though he was thankful enough 
 for his escape, for he had been in a perilous 
 position ten minutes before, and still more 
 thankful that he had been of use to a human 
 being, he could not help thinking of Pamela's 
 amused countenance when she should hear 
 all the ridiculous details. 
 
 Well, it had been touch and go at one 
 moment — he hardly thought he could have 
 lasted another minute, the girl was so terribly 
 heavy. By - the - bye, he hoped she had 
 reached the house by this time ; her sister — 
 he supposed it was her sister ; how was he to 
 know ? — seemed to have a sensible head on 
 her shoulders. Anyhow, he had done his 
 duty. He had managed to gasp out his 
 directions pretty plainly : ' Make her walk if 
 she can ; anyhow, get her to some house. 
 She must have her things off at once, and go 
 into a warmed bed ; give her some brandy — 
 I am a doctor — ah, there's a carriage ! — all 
 the better, she will be the sooner at home — 
 rub well with warm towels, a hot bath if her 
 limbs ache — don't let her stand a moment.' 
 How had he contrived to make himself 
 audible? But he had certainly heard, 'Thank 
 you, oh, thank you so much ; I quite under-
 
 4 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Stand,' in a clear young voice that sounded 
 very near him. 
 
 But his host was speaking ; worse than 
 that, he was waiting for him. The path had 
 widened ; two men could walk abreast now. 
 
 * I hope you do not feel very much chilled,' 
 in an anxious voice ; ' there was so little 
 brandy in that flask, hardly a mouthful — they 
 gave some to Gerda. Do you think the 
 shock will harm her ?' — anxiety evidently on 
 the increase. 'My grand-daughter has a very 
 sensitive organization, but she was not so very 
 long in the water, was she ? Good heavens [ 
 what should we have done if you had not 
 gone so quickly to her rescue ? Providence 
 must have brought you here — I think 
 seriously on these subjects ; I believe in a 
 special Providence. We are deeply indebted 
 to you for your presence of mind and your 
 courage, we are indeed, and I am sure my 
 daughter will endorse this. There is the 
 Hall. We shall soon be up this hill ; you 
 walk stiffly, my dear sir, but of course your 
 clothes are heavy.' 
 
 A grim smile crossed Dr. LyalTs face. In 
 spite of his discomfort he could still 
 realize the humour of the situation.
 
 DR. LYALL DISLIKES HIS SITUATION c 
 
 ' That is the Hall, I suppose ?' eyeing 
 some tall chimneys dubiously. 
 
 ' Yes, Chesterton Hall. Of course, if you 
 are Captain Hake's friend, you will have 
 heard my name,' drawing himself up a little 
 proudly. ' We consider ourselves near 
 neighbours.' 
 
 ' I am afraid,' in an embarrassed voice, 
 ' that I have not that pleasure. This is my 
 first visit down here. Hake only came back 
 from India two years ago, and I have never 
 been able to accept his invitation before 
 now. His wife was an old school-friend of 
 my sister's.' 
 
 * Indeed ! — a nice chatty woman ; my grand- 
 daughters are very fond of her — humph !' 
 with rather a dignified air : ' you must allow 
 me to introduce myself — Sir Godfrey Hamlyn, 
 at your service.' 
 
 ' My name is Lyall— Dr. Lyall,' returned 
 the younger man quietly, as he stole a glance 
 at his companion. 
 
 What an aristocratic old fellow he was ! 
 No doubt in his youth he had been hand- 
 some : his features were line and his com- 
 plexion had the tint of old ivory ; he was well 
 preserved, too, in spite of the lines that were
 
 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 plainly visible ; and any young man might 
 envy his upright carriage. If only he could 
 be silent a moment ; but he was as fluent of 
 tongue as a woman. What a blessing ! there 
 was the house at last — a gray weather- 
 beaten-looking place, standing just outside 
 the park gates, with rather an unpretending 
 entrance ; but somehow he liked the look 
 of it, though he devoutly hoped that he 
 would not have to encounter any more of 
 the family. Of course there would be the 
 servants about ; there was the butler on the 
 steps, evidently on the look-out for them. 
 Sir Godfrey hailed him at once : 
 
 ' Is the bachelor's room all ready, Dalton ?' 
 
 ' Perfectly ready, Sir Godfrey.' 
 
 * All right ; show Dr. Lyall to his room at 
 once — stop, I will take him myself: is Mr. 
 Gerard in ? No ; well, let me know directly 
 he arrives. Now then, my dear sir, this 
 way ' — disregarding his guest's remonstrance, 
 * Dalton,' still talking fast, ' send Rogers at 
 once to Braeside for Dr. Lyall's Gladstone ; 
 his things have gone on there. Tell Captain 
 Hake, with my compliments — my compli- 
 ments, Dalton — that I am detaining his guest ; 
 let Rogers inform him of the accident — he was
 
 DR. LYALL DISLIKES HIS SITUATION 7 
 
 there and saw it all ; there is no time to write 
 a note.' 
 
 ' My dear sir,' interposed Dr. Lyall, with 
 just a trace of irritation in his quiet tone, 
 * please allow me to send a message. Tell 
 Captain Hake,' addressing the man in rather 
 a curt, authoritative voice, ' that I am only in 
 need of some dry clothes ; that I have taken 
 no harm, and shall certainly be at his dinner- 
 table this evening. That is all that need be 
 said,' as Sir Godfrey shook his head. 'You 
 are very good. Sir Godfrey, and these are 
 comfortable quarters,' looking round the 
 luxuriously-furnished room, and then at the 
 fireplace, where some dry pine-logs were 
 spluttering and blazing ; ' but I do not mean 
 to trespass on your hospitality for more than 
 a few hours.' 
 
 There was a little more argument, a few 
 pressing inquiries as to his physical feelings, 
 some well-meaning advice, and then Sir 
 Godfrey went in search of his daughter. He 
 had not forgotten the other sufferer, who was 
 his own flesh and blood ; but the Hamlyns 
 were hospitable people, and noblesse oblige : 
 the stranger who had rescued his grand- 
 daughter, who had risked his own life — Sir
 
 8 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Godfrey liked to put things in their strongest 
 light — had undoubtedly the first claim on him. 
 Sir Godfrey, with his old-fashioned courtesy, 
 his punctilious, chivalrous notions, would have 
 willingly served him with his own hands if 
 Dr. Lyall would have permitted it. It cost 
 Dr. Lyall some trouble to get rid of him and 
 Dalton. As soon as he was alone, he locked 
 the door and drew a long breath of relief, and 
 then set himself seriously to better his con- 
 dition. 
 
 A few minutes later he sat by the fireside, 
 warmly wrapped up in a quilted dressing- 
 gown belonging to his host, sipping a stiff 
 glass of brandy and water. A hot bath had 
 refreshed him ; he had an eider-down over 
 his knees, never in his life had he felt more 
 comfortable, and, blessing of blessings, he was 
 alone : not even Sir Godfrey would force his 
 way through a locked door — why, he had 
 even drawn the belt between him and the 
 outer world. 
 
 So this was the bachelor's room— bachelors 
 were in clover at Chesterton Hall ; but how 
 did Sir Godfrey guess that he was an un- 
 married man ? He looked old enough and 
 staid enough for a Benedict ; but a truce to
 
 DR. LYALL DISLIKES HIS SITUATION 9 
 
 this nonsense ! he must set himself to review 
 the whole situation. How m.any hours was 
 it since he had left Pamela, and had nodded 
 and waved to her ? Hours — tut ! it was barely 
 an hour and a half, and yet all this had 
 happened. She had merely nodded in an 
 off-hand way as she setded herself against the 
 cushions of the carriage, he believed she had 
 not even looked at him ; and yet at one 
 moment — one confoundedly unpleasant mo- 
 ment — he thouorht he should never see her 
 again. 
 
 Sir Godfrey believed in a special Provi- 
 dence, did he ? Good old man ! on the 
 whole he shared his opinions ; but he was 
 an Englishman, and preferred to keep all 
 such opinions to himself. 
 
 Now for it — he must go over the whole 
 thing point by point before he got sleepy ; 
 but the fire was warm and the brandy was 
 potent. He wondered if the young lady were 
 asleep by this time. 
 
 Well, after all, it was a droll idea of his to 
 stop the carriage and insist on walking the 
 remainder of the way. It was a good two 
 miles to Braeside, the coachman told him, 
 but he was cold and wanted to stretch his
 
 lo SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 legs, and Pamela could take care of herself 
 and the luggage. 
 
 She did not really mind, though she 
 grumbled, and told him he would get cold 
 tea, and most likely lose his way ; but she 
 was accustomed to be overruled by his 
 masculine will, and she would only revenge 
 herself by a little quiet satire at his expense 
 afterwards. 
 
 He had enjoyed his walk very much, and 
 he fancied he was near his destination, when, 
 by either good or ill luck, he saw some boys 
 with skates slung over their shoulders, and 
 on questioning them found out that they 
 were going to skate on the lake in Chester- 
 ton Park. 
 
 'Anyone goes who likes,' one of the boys 
 informed him. ' There is rare good ice, and 
 the Squire takes no end of trouble about it. 
 People come from miles round, and it is quite 
 lively sometimes ;' and then they had wished 
 him good-afternoon and had gone on their 
 way. 
 
 He could not imagine what put it into his 
 head to follow them; he was excessively fond 
 of skating, and as a holiday was a rare thing 
 in his hard-working life, he determined to
 
 DR, LYALL DISLIKES HIS SITUATION ii 
 
 make the most of it ; perhaps Hake v/ould 
 be there himself, and gentlemen were not 
 wanted at afternoon tea — it was the women's 
 hour. Perhaps it was as well for the young 
 lady that he had yielded to the temptation. 
 He felt rather like a truant school-boy as 
 he turned in at the park-gates ; he scarcely 
 noticed the gray old Hall as he passed it. 
 The lads were before him, racing each other 
 down the ice-bound path, and he had rather 
 a difficulty to keep them in sight. Presently 
 he caught a blue gleam through the trees, 
 and, walking more slowly, he presently found 
 himself at the edge of a little lake, which 
 seemed to wind very prettily between thickly- 
 wooded banks. 
 
 There were a great many skaters, and he 
 stood still to watch them. Some of the 
 ladies skated very gracefully. There were 
 two rather tall girls among them ; as they 
 were dressed alike — in dark tweed dresses 
 — he thought possibly they might be sisters. 
 
 One of them skimmed over the ice with a 
 quiet grace that somewhat fascinated him — 
 she was a pale, delicate-looking girl, with fair 
 hair, that looked very nice under her close 
 little velvet hat. The other girl skated very
 
 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 well too, but her movements were not so 
 uniformly graceful. Somehow, he singled 
 out these two girls, and watched them, half 
 idly, half admiringly, after the manner of 
 masculine loungers. There was nothing 
 very remarkable about either of them ; he 
 had seen far prettier girls any day in 
 London. The younger one had a round, 
 innocent-looking face, and her hair looked 
 rough and curly, as though the exercise had 
 dishevelled it ; and once or twice, as she 
 shot past him, she looked at him with child- 
 like curiosity, as though marvelling at the 
 presence of a stranger. He thought the 
 other sister had not noticed him at all, she 
 was so intent on her amusement. 
 
 It was a raw wintry afternoon, and stand- 
 ing made him feel chilly. How he wished 
 he had his skates with him ! it was almost 
 too tantalizing to watch other people enjoy- 
 ing his favourite pastime. To keep himself 
 warm he walked briskly to the other end of 
 the lake, where a couple of swans were 
 pluming themselves discontentedly outside 
 their little wooden house. The snow had 
 not been so carefully cleared here, and it 
 was evident that this part of the lake was
 
 DR. LYALL DISLIKES HIS SITUATION 13 
 
 not used by the skaters ; to his practised 
 eye the ice looked somewhat thin and un- 
 safe. 
 
 ' They ought to warn people not to come 
 farther than that island,' he said to himself; 
 ' to my mind, there is a treacherous look 
 about the ice here. I don't believe it would 
 bear my weight. What fools people are, not 
 to take precautions ! The Squire, whoever 
 he is, is responsible for the safety of his 
 guests. I have almost a mind to speak to 
 someone. Hollo ! by Jove ! here comes one 
 of those girls. I must warn her.' 
 
 Well, he had warned her — at least, he had 
 tried to do so — but she had evidently not 
 heard him. She was making the circuit of 
 the lake. She swept round the farther bank, 
 and then steered her course straight towards 
 the point where he was standing. 
 
 * Don't come any farther ; the ice will not 
 bear !' he had shouted, and then she had 
 stopped and looked at him in a half-hesitating 
 way. 
 
 ' It was quite safe yesterday,' she had 
 returned. But before the words were out of 
 her mouth there was a crash — a fissure — and 
 then a terrified scream as the poor girl felt
 
 14 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 the deadly cold of the water closing round 
 her. 
 
 ' Save me ! save me !' he heard her gasp, as 
 her agonized hands tried to grip the breaking 
 ice. 
 
 ' Keep still ; I will do all I can/ he had 
 shouted. How had he managed to reach 
 her? His memory failed to help him here. 
 He fancied he had crawled on his hands and 
 knees over the few feet of ice that lay 
 between her and the bank. It was a terribly 
 risky thing to do. The next moment he 
 was in the water too, and was holding her 
 up, and imploring her not to struggle. He 
 was only just in time ; he was sure of that. 
 Another moment, and she would have been 
 sucked under the ice. She was only half 
 conscious too, and her weight nearly broke 
 his arm. 
 
 He was pretty sure, in thinking it over, 
 that the ground shelved just there. For one 
 moment he had lost his footing, and seemed 
 out of his depth. The next his head and 
 shoulders were out of the water, and the 
 girl's head was above water too ; but it was 
 all so confused, so sudden, so horribly unreal, 
 that even now he hardly knew how it had all
 
 DR. LYALL DISLIKES HIS SITUATION 15 
 
 happened. Every moment the ice seemed 
 breaking round him, the water grew more 
 deadly cold, and his arm became more 
 numbed. ' Good God !' he had said to him- 
 self, ' I cannot hold her a moment longer.' 
 But even as the thought crossed him help 
 had come. 
 
 His sharp cry for assistance had been 
 heard. Men were running down the bank. 
 A plank was held out to him. Thank 
 Heaven ! he had still strength to grasp it. 
 Another moment, and they were both in safety, 
 and a rough-looking man in the dress of a 
 gamekeeper was holding a flask to his mouth. 
 
 ' Take a good pull, sir. We have given 
 the young lady some.' 
 
 And then he had found strength to gasp 
 out his directions. He would have gone to 
 her at once. Being a doctor, he felt bound 
 to do so. But for the moment he was too 
 numb to move, and he was reassured by 
 seeing her pass him, supported by a gentle- 
 man, and wrapped in a fur-lined cloak. They 
 were helping her into a carriage, and the girl 
 he took for her sister followed her. 
 
 ' The brandy has brought her round,' an 
 old gentleman had assured him. ' Jamieson
 
 i6 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 had his flask, luckily. Now, my dear sir, 
 we must think of you.' And then had 
 followed the brief argument, which had ended 
 in victory on Sir Godfrey's side. 
 
 ' Life is a curious thing-,' he went on 
 drowsily, as he ended this retrospect with a 
 shiver. ' One never knows what comes in 
 the day's work. When I packed up my 
 Gladstone this morning to the tune of 
 "^Come, lasses and lads," it never entered my 
 mind that I was to be half drowned before 
 night. Faugh ! it was an unpleasant situa- 
 tion ;' and, in spite of his philosophy and his 
 present comfort, Dr. Lyall gave a genuine 
 shudder as he recalled the dead weight of 
 the half-conscious girl, and how the icy cold 
 of the water had seemed to deprive him of 
 breath. * It is a nasty feeling — that of a rat 
 in a hole,' he thought. ' If one could strike 
 out and swim, one would not mind a plunge 
 in winter time. I have often heard of ice 
 accidents, but I never realized them before. 
 I wonder what Pamela thinks of my adven- 
 ture. Of course, she will have her fun out 
 of it — trust her for that !' 
 
 Here Dr. Lyall's thoughts became confused, 
 and a few moments later he was fast asleep.
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 FIVE MINUTES LATE BY GRANDFATHER\s CLOCK. 
 
 ' Even his own tail is a burden to the weary fox.' — 
 
 Proverb of Mojiienegro. 
 
 A BRISK knock at the door, then another, 
 still louder and more imperative. Dr. Lyall 
 sat up and rubbed his eyes in rather a be- 
 wildered fashion. Had he been asleep ? 
 The room was nearly dark. A great red 
 hollow had replaced the blaze. Dr. Lyall 
 looked at it drowsily. Then he said : 
 
 ' Come in.' 
 
 ' I am afraid I must trouble you to unlock 
 the door,' returned a cheerful voice which 
 certainly did not belong to his host. 
 
 ' Oh, I quite forgot the bolt,' with an 
 apologetic laugh. ' I believe I have been 
 asleep.' 
 
 ' Upon my word, 1 believe so, too ; and, 
 
 VOL. I. 2
 
 i8 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 not being a disembodied spirit, I have not 
 learnt the vanishing trick yet.' 
 
 This was decidedly frivolous. Sir Godfrey 
 would certainly not express himself in this 
 way. As he grappled rather clumsily with 
 the lock, he wondered who the newcomer 
 would be. The next moment a tall, broad- 
 shouldered young man walked into the room 
 with a Gladstone bag in his hand. 
 
 He was a good-looking fellow, with a 
 brown moustache, and, as they shook hands, 
 he regarded Dr. Lyall with an air of extreme 
 amusement. 
 
 ' I hope you will excuse my costume,' 
 observed the latter, nervously aware of this 
 good-natured scrutiny. 
 
 ' Well, do you know, I rather like it — looks 
 Oriental and imposing. I believe I recognise 
 that shawl pattern. How do you find your- 
 self after your nap ? Pretty fit ? No bad 
 symptoms ? That's right ! Well, I have 
 brought you your things, and there's a note 
 somewhere' — fumbling in his breast-pocket; 
 'let me light those candles — we can scarcely 
 see each other — and I may as well throw on 
 another log. Here is your note, and the 
 ladies want to know if you will have some tea.'
 
 LATE BY GRANDFATHER'S CLOCK 19 
 
 * No, thanks. I have been indulging in 
 something stronger. I am sorry you should 
 have troubled yourself with that heavy bag.' 
 
 ' No trouble at all. Besides, Rogers 
 carried it, only he could not make you hear 
 — you were sound asleep. I was afraid 
 something had happened, and we should 
 have to burst the door open. I was sorry I 
 was not in time to be of any service ; that is 
 just my luck ! I never am in time for any- 
 thing. Never mind ! I am delighted to 
 find you are no worse for your cold bath, and 
 of course ' — with a slight change of tone — 
 ' we are all awfully obliged to you, and all 
 that sort of thing, for rescuing my cousin.' 
 
 * Your cousin !' in some perplexity. 
 *Well, Miss Meredith is a sort of cousin ; 
 
 did you think she was my sister? By-the- 
 bye, I have not introduced myself My 
 name is Hamlyn, and Hake is one of my 
 chums. That reminds me that we are to 
 dine with him pre^sently, and it is half-past 
 six now. What do you propose to do, Dr. 
 Lyall ? My uncle has entreated me almost 
 with tears in his eyes to use all my powers of 
 persuasion to keep you here to-night, and let 
 me be the bearer of your excuses. It is an
 
 20 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 awful bore putting on one's war-paint and 
 making: one's self agreeable when one has 
 just had a ducking, and you are tolerably 
 snug here, eh ?' 
 
 ' I agree with every word you say, Mr. 
 Hamlyn, especially with the last clause ; but 
 please make Sir Godfrey understand that I 
 am bound to fulfil my engagement. Thanks 
 to my hot bath and glass of stiff grog, I 
 believe I shall escape even a cold.' 
 
 * All right ; we will drive you over, then. 
 Shall I send up someone to unpack for you T 
 
 ' Thanks awfully, but I am accustomed to 
 be my own valet. I shall not be long over 
 my toilet. By-the-bye, Mr. Hamlyn, I have 
 not asked after your cousin yet. I trust she 
 is feeling no ill effects from her accident ?' 
 
 ' Oh dear no ; she is as fit as possible. 
 She is actually insisting on going to the 
 dinner-party ; her mother is nearly in tears 
 over her perversity, and my uncle is storming 
 up and down the hall like an old lion ; but 
 they may as well spare their breath,' con- 
 tinued the young man dryly. ' My cousin 
 has a will of her own.' 
 
 ' Do you think it would be any use my 
 sending a message ?' asked Dr. Lyall. Such
 
 LATE BY GRANDFATHER'S CLOCK 21 
 
 imprudence vexed his professional soul. * I 
 am a medical man, and I am quite sure that, 
 after such a shock, she ought to keep per- 
 fectly quiet. Will you tell her so from me ?* 
 
 ' Yes, certainly ; but I am afraid she will 
 go, all the same. Now I will leave you in 
 peace. Au revoirl' And as he closed the 
 door, Dr. Lyall could hear him whistling 
 along the passage. 
 
 'A pleasant, gentlemanly fellow,' was Dr. 
 LyalFs inward comment as he unstrapped his 
 Gladstone. Then a slight frown contracted 
 his forehead. ' Is that girl mad T he said to 
 himself. ' There is no foolishness of which a 
 woman is not capable. I suppose she means 
 to put on a thin dress. Perhaps,' still more 
 disgustedly, 'a low dress. If I were her 
 mother I would lock her up in her room. 
 Pamela can be unreasonable sometimes, but 
 even she would not act in this crazy fashion. 
 By the way, where is Pamela's note ? I 
 forgot all about it. Of course, it is in pencil, 
 and nearly illegible.' 
 
 . ' Dear Alick, 
 
 * So sorry for your accident ! How on 
 earth did you get to the lake in Chesterton
 
 22 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Park ? This is a mystery. Did you lose 
 your way, after all ? What a goose you were 
 to get out of the carriage ! 
 
 ' I have sent your things. Do pray put in 
 an appearance as soon as possible, or we 
 shall think you are half drowned. The 
 Hakes are in such a fuss, for fear their 
 dinner-table should be put out. So come if 
 you possibly can, and I will promise to nurse 
 you, and not laugh at you more than you 
 deserve 
 
 ' Your affectionate sister, 
 
 'Pam.' 
 
 * I have almost a mind not to go, after all,' 
 growled Dr. Lyall, seizing his hair-brushes 
 rather fiercely. ' Put out their dinner-table 
 indeed ! Rubbish ! A nice sisterly letter, 
 upon my word ! and a capital nurse she would 
 make, too. I always told her that if I were 
 ill she should not cross the threshold of my 
 room. A sick man does not want a bit of 
 duicksilver dancing attendance on him. Pam 
 is too jerky, too original altogether, to make 
 a comfortable nurse. If she had been in 
 that ice-hole we should both have been 
 drowned to a dead certainty, as sure as my
 
 LATE BY GRANDFATHER'S CLOCK 23 
 
 name is Alexander Lyall; she could not keep 
 still to save her life. I pity Vincent — I do 
 from my heart. He will never tackle her 
 properly. How can any sensible fellow 
 tackle an anomaly?' And with these fraternal 
 reflections Dr. Lyall continued his toilet. 
 
 He cast a look of regret round the room 
 as he prepared to quit it. What a shame to 
 leave that splendid fire ! He would rather 
 have liked to have occupied that comfortable- 
 looking bed for one night. That young 
 fellow was right ; it was an awful bore 
 turning out this cold evening, with only the 
 prospect of having to make himself agreeable 
 to some stranger for two hours. As a rule, 
 he rather liked dinner-parties, but he was 
 lazy, and not disposed to exert himself. He 
 consoled himself, however, with the thought 
 that he would not have to endure the mono- 
 poly of Sir Godfrey's conversation. Besides, 
 Hake was a capital fellow, and his wife one 
 of the nicest women possible. Why, once 
 upon a time, he had been rather smitten with 
 her, before Hake carried her off If only 
 people would hold their tongues about the 
 unlucky accident ; but, alas ! it would be 
 public property by this time.
 
 24 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 He had not a notion where to go, but he 
 intended to make his way to the hall. Per- 
 haps he might find some servant there to 
 direct him. 
 
 As he walked down the corridor he was 
 sure he heard voices. They seemed to 
 proceed from below. As he prepared to 
 descend the staircase, he looked cautiously 
 over the carved balustrades, and an unex- 
 pected sight met his eyes. The whole 
 family seemed gathered round the hall fire. 
 He had never seen anything more pic- 
 turesque : it reminded him of a scene in a 
 play. It was a large square hall, heavily 
 wainscoted in oak, with two handsomely- 
 carved screens, one of which shut out the 
 draught of the front-door, and the other hid 
 the staircase. 
 
 Even in that subdued light he could see 
 that the walls were covered with trophies and 
 weapons of every description — splendidly 
 mounted guns and pistols, suits of rusty 
 armour, and a bristling array of javelins, 
 battle-axes, halberds, and daggers, while 
 antique cabinets, full of archaeological trea- 
 sures, occupied the corners. An oak settle 
 and some heavily - carved chairs were
 
 LATE BY GRANDFATHER'S CLOCK 25 
 
 arranged in a semicircle round the fire, while 
 tables littered with every description of 
 feminine and masculine employment gave 
 an air of comfort to the whole scene. He 
 would willingly have looked a little longer, 
 but it was impossible to remain there unper- 
 ceived. He must summon up courage to 
 join the family circle. 
 
 ' Here is our guest, my dear,' he heard 
 Sir Godfrey say, as he stepped from behind 
 the screen. ' How do you find yourself, my 
 dear sir ?^ — shaking him vigorously by the 
 hand. ' Honoria, this is Dr. Lyall — my 
 daughter, Mrs. Meredith ;' and a pale lady- 
 like woman rose at once with smile and 
 outstretched hand. 
 
 ' I have been longing to thank you/ she 
 said in a pleasant voice that was very agree- 
 able to his ear. Dr. Lyall always liked 
 women to have soft voices. * I have been 
 too much engrossed with my poor child to 
 see after your comfort myself, but I trust you 
 had everything you wanted. It was such a 
 terrible shock to us when Mr. Brown brought 
 her home in his carriage ! I cannot bear to 
 think of what would have happened but 
 for you. Doris, you must help me thank
 
 26 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Dr. Lyall ;' and then a tall young lady, with 
 light curly hair came up to him, whom he at 
 once recognised as the younger sister. 
 
 ' I wish we knew how to thank you 
 properly,' she said, with frank eagerness, and 
 there was no trace of shyness in her manner, 
 only a gentle friendliness that took him by 
 surprise. ' I saw it all, Dr. Lyall ; I heard 
 Gerda scream, and saw her fall.' with a 
 shudder, ' and then you went to her and I 
 rushed away to get help. Ah, how brave you 
 were ! No,' as Dr. Lyall muttered something 
 in reply to this, ' of course you do not like to 
 be thanked ; but it is such a relief to us — is 
 it not, mother ? — and Gerard told me I must 
 say something pretty.' 
 
 If he only knew how to answer this girlish 
 outburst — if he were not such an utter fool ! 
 He could talk fluently enough on most 
 occasions, he had strong opinions on most 
 subjects, and had never found much difficulty 
 in airing his views ; but he was a modest 
 man, and disliked to hear his own praises 
 even from his patients' lips. If he had been 
 alone with this young lady, if her blue eyes 
 had only confronted him, he could have 
 acquitted himself very tolerably ; but there
 
 LATE BY GRANDFATHER'S CLOCK 27 
 
 were Sir Godfrey and Mr. Hamlyn in the 
 background, and to his relief Mr. Hamlyn 
 came promptly to his rescue. 
 
 * Dr. Lyall quite understands, so you may 
 as well let him warm himself before the 
 carriage comes round ; don't move, Uncle 
 Godfrey, I will give him my corner. — By the 
 way, Doris, you had better tell Gerda to 
 hurry up, or we shall be late.' 
 
 A quick look of alarm crossed Sir Godfrey's 
 countenance : its urbane expression changed 
 to one of intense anxiety ; if a bomb had 
 suddenly exploded in the midst of the circle, 
 he could not have seemed more visibly 
 discomposed. 
 
 ' Dear, dear, Gerard, I hope you are 
 wrong,' he said rather nervously. ' Late ? 
 I have never been late at a dinner-party in 
 my life. Doris,' in a quick, imperative 
 voice, ' tell your sister from me, that if she 
 has made up her mind to commit suicide — 
 suicide ; yes, that is the correct word — she 
 has no right to add to her sin unpunctuality ; 
 that I shall be excessively displeased — 
 excessively Why, the child has gone with- 
 out allowing me to finish my sentence !' 
 
 * There are two sins that my uncle regards
 
 28 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 as unpardonable/ observed Mr. Hamlyn in 
 an airy manner : ' unpunctuality, and killing 
 foxes.* 
 
 'You may add a third,' returned Sir 
 Godfrey sharply : * want of reverence — 
 want of reverence, Gerard. We live in sad 
 times, Dr. Lyall ; young folk nowadays 
 know better than their elders. I was 
 differently brought up ; we were taught con- 
 sideration and courtesy — consideration and 
 courtesy. Why, when I was a young man 
 I would as soon have thought of knocking 
 my father down as of keeping him waiting ; 
 he was short in his temper, and would not 
 have stood it for a moment. Of course you 
 laugh, Gerard — you laugh at everything ; all 
 the same, I must trouble you to ring that 
 bell. — Dalton,' as the butler entered, ' order 
 the carriage round at once — at once. — If 
 Gerda be not ready,' addressing his daughter, 
 * I regret to say we must go without her ; 
 we owe it to Dr. Lyall not to keep him any 
 longer from his friends.' 
 
 What had come to his suave, hospitable 
 host ? There was a shade on Sir Godfrey's 
 brow ; his bland loquacity was replaced by 
 sharp, querulous tones : could a delay of a
 
 LATE BY GRANDFATHER'S CLOCK 29 
 
 few minutes have ruffled his equanimity so 
 seriously, or had Mr. Hamlyn's flippant 
 remarks given offence ? He stole a glance 
 at him. Mr. Hamlyn was arranging the 
 flower in his buttonhole, and seemed per- 
 fectly at his ease — he even hummed some- 
 thing under his breath. 
 
 If Dr. Lyall had known the Hamlyn 
 temperament, he would not have troubled 
 himself at Sir Godfrey's quick change of mood. 
 
 The Squire's temper was by no means 
 perfect. He had many virtues ; he was 
 truthful, kind-hearted, and made an excel- 
 lent landlord. When he loved, he attached 
 himself strongly ; but he was an autocrat by 
 nature, and somewhat narrow-minded and 
 obstinate, and he was given to be arbitrary 
 even in trifles. As he said himself, every 
 man ought to be master in his own house. 
 
 Once upon a time, when Gerard Hamlyn's 
 
 curly head was brimful of boyish mischief, a 
 
 roughly scrawled sheet was found posted 
 
 over the barometer in the hall one morning, 
 
 headed : 
 
 'My Uncle's Barometer. 
 
 •The following forecast for to-day was prepared at the 
 Meteorological Office : 
 
 10 a.m. South-westerly winds ; undulating ; fair as a whole.
 
 so SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 12 p.m. Wind decidedly in the east, becoming less mild. 
 2 p.m. Colder; changeable. 
 4 p.m. A moderate gale, strong and fresh. 
 6 p.m. Temperature tolerably even. 
 8 p.m. Look out for squalls.' 
 
 Happily, this remarkable specimen of 
 boyish wit was promptly removed by Dal- 
 ton ; but It was remarked by Sir Godfrey 
 more than once that day that the servants 
 seemed unusually merry. 
 
 Carriage- wheels were distinctly audible, 
 and at the same moment the younger Miss 
 Meredith came quickly round the screen, 
 followed by a pale, slim girl in white, who 
 regarded Dr. Lyall with singular earnest- 
 ness as she passed him, and then stopped 
 and, half hesitatingly, put out her hand. 
 
 ' I'm afraid this is hardly prudent,' he 
 began ; but she turned quickly away with a 
 faint smile, and beckoned the maid to bring 
 her her wraps. 
 
 ' Do you know you have actually kept us 
 five minutes waiting, Gerda ?' gasped Sir 
 Godfrey. He was just getting Into his 
 great-coat, and the exertion made him a 
 little breathless. — ' Gerard, put your cousin 
 in the carriage ; Dr. Lyall and I will follow. 
 Now, my dear sir' — with an- old-fashioned
 
 LATE BY GRANDFATHER'S CLOCK 31 
 
 bow and dignified wave of the hand ; and 
 Dr. Lyall reluctantly preceded him. 
 
 He ensconced himself silently in his corner, 
 and watched the gleams from the carriage- 
 lamps flashing along the snowy road. Miss 
 Meredith was equally silent, and made no 
 attempt to address him. He had already 
 decided that neither of the sisters was 
 pretty, and he was not disposed to change 
 this opinion. Nevertheless, competent au- 
 thorities had adjudged to the elder Miss 
 Meredith a tolerable share of good looks. She 
 was interesting, people said, and rather 
 uncommon-looking. She had undeniably 
 good points — a clear, pale complexion, and 
 hair of that soft, pretty tint of fairness that 
 in certain lights and under certain conditions 
 looks golden. 
 
 Dr. Lyall had noticed none of these 
 beauties, but two things had struck him — 
 first, the grave intentness of the look with 
 which she had regarded him ; and, secondly, 
 the simplicity of her attire, for her white 
 neck and arms were devoid of all orna- 
 ment. 
 
 Her taciturnity repelled him, and he made 
 no attempt to draw her into conversation.
 
 32 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Strange to say, though, as a rule, he disliked 
 thanks, her total silence seemed to him mis- 
 placed and in bad taste. 
 
 ' It is impossible to understand a woman,' 
 he thought sarcastically. ' One would have 
 expected a civil word, after a fellow has 
 plunged up to the neck in cold water on 
 her account. I suppose she considers me a 
 bear for not asking how she is ; but ' — a little 
 obstinately, for Dr. Lyall could be obstinate — 
 ' I have already prescribed for her, and sent 
 her a message, but she has refused to follow 
 my advice.' And then he asked Sir Godfrey 
 how far it was to Braeside. 
 
 ' We shall be there directly; we turn down 
 the next corner,' was the reply. ' Gerda 
 my dear, you are very quiet. I have not 
 heard your voice yet. I have been waiting 
 to hear you make some pretty speeches to 
 Dr. Lyall. In my time, a girl would have 
 found something to say to the man who had 
 just saved her life — eh, Gerard ?' 
 
 * You need not ask me, sir. I am green 
 with envy ; it is just like my luck — I am 
 never in time for anything. If you are 
 going to make a speech, Gerda, you must 
 hurry up.'
 
 LATE BY GRANDFATHER'S CLOCK 33 
 
 * One cannot make speeches to order,' 
 returned his cousin in a cold, quiet voice. 
 
 And then the carriage stopped, and the 
 next moment a jovial voice ran^- through the 
 darkness : ' Where's Lyall ? What have you 
 done with him, Sir Godfrey ? Ah, there 
 you are, my dear fellow, large as life ! Let 
 me have a look at him, Miss Meredith, and 
 then I will take you into the drawing-room. 
 So you have been half drowned, old man, 
 and are none the worse for it !' And, with a 
 friendly clap on the shoulder, Captain Hake 
 turned to Miss Meredith ; next moment 
 there was a confusion of hand-shaking, 
 laughter, and sympathetic speeches, as Mrs. 
 Hake and the assembled guests crowded 
 round Sir Godfrey and his grand-daughter. 
 
 Dr. Lyall had greeted his hostess, and had 
 then retreated to the hearthrug, where he 
 was followed almost immediately by a short, 
 dark young lady, in a yellowish silk dress, 
 who looked at him half mischievously and 
 half affectionately. 
 
 ' Alick, what an absurd boy you have 
 been ! However could you go and do it ?' 
 
 ' I confess I don't see the absurdityy 
 Pamela.' 
 
 VOL. I. 3
 
 34 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 ' Well,' in a teasing voice, ' I will refrain 
 from enlightening you, for I see that you are 
 quaking with apprehension at the ordeal that 
 lies before you. Do you know, Gertrude 
 means to thank you for enlivening her 
 dinner-party — dinner-parties are so awfully 
 slow at Chesterton : people never know 
 what to talk about. And now you have fur- 
 nished them with conversation ; you should 
 just have heard their tongues wagging 
 before you came in ! Is that pale girl the 
 heroine ? What a pity she is not prettier ! 
 I don't care for that sort of washed-out 
 beauty, do you know. You have to take 
 her in to dinner ; it was all arranged before- 
 hand, and Gertrude says it must be fate.' 
 
 ' I wish you would shut up, Pam ;' and Dr. 
 Lyall's tone was decidedly unamiable. 
 
 ' Alick,' remarked his sister severely, but 
 there was a merry little dimple belying her 
 tone, ' I am afraid your cold bath has not im- 
 proved a temper by no means naturally sweet' 
 
 And then, as Captain Hake came towards 
 them, she moved lightly away ; and the next 
 moment she had the pleasure of seeing her 
 brother standing, looking very stiff and 
 uncomfortable, by Miss Meredith's side.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 BREAKING THE ICE. 
 
 ' It is good to rub and polish our brain against that of 
 others.' — Montaigne. 
 
 Dr. Lyall inwardly owned that his sister 
 was right. He was in an execrable temper ; 
 he was tired, cold, and Pamela had, as usual, 
 rubbed him up the wrong way. Everything 
 was against him. He had to take in the 
 very girl whom he was most anxious to 
 avoid — a haughty young woman, who would 
 not deign to acknowledge him except by a 
 flicker of a white eyelid as she bowed in 
 response to her host's introduction. 
 
 * No need to introduce my old friend, Dr. 
 Lyall— eh, Miss Meredith? I'll be bound 
 you two know each other well enough by 
 this time ; nothing like an accident for
 
 36 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 breaking the ice. Ah ! ah ! I call that 
 good — never meant it, though. Just listen, 
 Gertie ; have you ever heard a better joke ?' 
 And Captain Hake moved away with his 
 jolly laugh, and they could hear him 
 repeating his speech to a group of 
 admiring auditors : ' Breaking the ice — ha ! 
 ha!' 
 
 Dr. Lyalls dark eyebrows contracted more 
 closely. He was not a tall man, but he 
 looked so at times when he held up his head 
 in that way and squared his shoulders ; he 
 had a sturdy, strongly-built figure that some- 
 how suited his face. 
 
 He was by no means a handsome man, 
 and his best friend would hardly have called 
 him good-looking ; but he looked sensible 
 and reliable. Perhaps his mouth was his 
 best feature — his lips closed very firmly, and 
 his smile was frank and sweet : one of his 
 patients said it always had the effect of 
 sudden sunshine on her. But there was no 
 smile on his face now, as he stood moodily 
 pulling his moustache and staring over Miss 
 Meredith's head. She was speaking to the 
 lady next her, and had not thought it neces- 
 sary to break off her conversation ; she had
 
 BREAKING THE ICE 37 
 
 a smooth, quiet voice, and he listened to it 
 half absently. 
 
 ' It has done me no harm, thank you ; at 
 least, I hope not. I am really strong, you 
 know.' 
 
 ' I should not have said so. Doris is the 
 only strong one of the family. I am sure 
 you are terribly imprudent to be here to-night.' 
 ' I am afraid we must go in to dinner, 
 Miss Meredith,' he had observed at this 
 point. And then she had turned and put her 
 hand in his arm. Was she shy ? Did her 
 silence proceed from diffidence ? He hardly 
 thouof-ht so, and as thev seated themselves, 
 and he handed her the menu with a common- 
 place remark on the beauty of the flowers 
 before them, his bored look was plainly 
 visible to his sister. 
 
 ' Poor Alick ! he is not enjoying himself a 
 bit,' she thought compassionately; 'and no 
 wonder, with that stick of a girl next him.' 
 And then she addressed herself with renewed 
 vivacity to the young barrister beside her. 
 He was clever and amusing, and knew how 
 to talk. Besides, he was a friend of a certain 
 gentleman with whom she was on intimate 
 terms.
 
 38 SIR GODFREY- S GRAXD-DAUGHTERS 
 
 'You know Derrick Vincent, I'm told,' he 
 had said to her the moment they were intro- 
 duced. 
 
 ' Of course I do. 1 am engaged to him, 
 as Mrs. Hake has probably told you,' was 
 her quick reply. And then he had laughed, 
 and had admitted the fact. And after that 
 they had got on excellently together. No 
 man with an ordinary amount of intelligence 
 ever found it difficult to get on with Pamela 
 Lyall. 
 
 A, few more platitudes, which his com- 
 panion answered in monosyllables, and then 
 Dr. Lyall turned his attention to his soup. 
 As he partook of it, he was wondering 
 whether he might venture to recommend 
 Miss Meredith to take a glass of wine. He 
 had been struck by her paleness, and he was 
 by no means convinced that she was as well 
 as she made herself out to be. He had 
 noticed an involuntary shiver, and again he 
 told himself savagely that women, even the 
 best of them, were fools. He was just 
 making up his mind to run the risk of a 
 rebuff, when he was electrified by hearing 
 her speak to him in a quick, nervous voice : 
 
 ' Dr. Lyall, what must you have thought
 
 BREAKING THE ICE 39 
 
 of me ? I have been all this time in your 
 company, and have never thanked you yet 
 for coming to my help in that noble way. I 
 am quite ashamed of myself. I must have 
 seemed so cold, so ungrateful.' And then 
 she broke off, and commenced plaiting her 
 table-napkin into folds with her white 
 fingers. 
 
 Dr. Lyall sat bolt upright, and motioned 
 away some turbot with an impatient gesture, 
 though he was particularly partial to that fish. 
 For the moment he was almost too surprised 
 to answer. Then he returned abruptly, but 
 not unkindly : 
 
 ' Please don't mention it ; there is not the 
 slightest occasion to trouble yourself. It is 
 an awful bore, that sort of thing.' 
 
 This was vague, to say the least of it, and 
 Miss Meredith looked still more disturbed. 
 
 * I am sure you are offended with me.' 
 And her lip gave a little quiver as she spoke. 
 
 ' You are wrong,' he returned warmly. ' I 
 am not in the least offended.' A white fib 
 that, Dr. Lyall ! ' Why should you thank 
 me ? Anyone would have acted as I did 
 under the circumstances.' 
 
 * I am not so sure of that. Some men
 
 40 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 would have hesitated, and then it would have 
 been too late. Of course, I know^ that you 
 saved my life. I felt myself sinking, and 
 then you caught me. Oh, it was so sudden 
 and so terrible. Do you know,' speaking 
 still lower, as though she were afraid she 
 would be overheard, ' I meant to thank you. 
 I came downstairs with that purpose, but 
 they were all there looking at me. Of 
 course, they were waiting to hear me say it. 
 Do you know that feeling, when people are 
 expecting you to do something, and you are 
 determined to disappoint them ? It was very 
 bad of me. I am afraid I shall shock you, 
 but I am often like that.' 
 
 He could not forbear a smile, though she 
 was speaking almost with solemnity. But 
 his smile was a very pleasant one. He was 
 agreeably deceived. The haughty young 
 woman, as he had called her, was accusing 
 herself with the artless naivete of a child. 
 He was amused — nay, more, he was in- 
 terested. An ordinary girl would not have 
 so frankly owned herself in the wrong. 
 
 ' I am afraid I have shocked you,' she 
 continued penitently. ' Of course, a man 
 never feels like that.'
 
 BREAKING THE ICE 41 
 
 * You are wrong there, Miss Meredith. 
 We have our tempers, too. Now you have 
 finished your confession, I will promise you 
 full absolution if you will drink that glass of 
 champagne at your elbow. I am a medical 
 man, you know, and I think you ought to 
 respect my advice.' 
 
 ' Very well, you shall be obeyed. But I 
 cannot eat,' as he looked meaningly at her 
 untouched plate. ' Please go on with your 
 own dinner ; I am not hungry to-night.' 
 And then for a little while he left her to her 
 own devices. 
 
 But he resumed the conversation presently 
 with a zest that surprised himself. Dr. Lyall 
 was not a lady's man — young unmarried 
 women often complained that he was stiff and 
 cold in his manner to them — but the fact was, 
 the ordinary run of girls, with their free and 
 flippant manners, failed to please him. They 
 were too independent and out-spoken ; they 
 had little reticence, and no reserve. He was 
 always telling Pamela so — none of them 
 came up to his private standard. In his 
 eyes no woman was attractive unless she 
 combined softness and refinement of manners 
 with her other virtues. No doubt the girls
 
 42 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 he met on his daily rounds would make 
 excellent wives and mothers, but he could 
 not have fallen in love with one of them. 
 When Vincent came to him and told him that 
 he wanted to marry Pamela he had hardly been 
 able to disguise his surprise. Somehow, the 
 idea that any man would want to marry 
 Pamela had never entered his head. Well, 
 there was no accounting for taste ; he must 
 remember that. 
 
 Miss Meredith was leaning back in her 
 chair, with her eyes fixed thoughtfully on 
 the lady nearly opposite her, and he stole 
 a quick glance at her unperceived. He 
 thought he rather admired her style, it was 
 so uncommon. Her head was a little bent, 
 and the crown of fair plaits shone like gold 
 in the lamplight. When he had seen them 
 last, they had been unloosened, and hung 
 heavily over his arm. Unaware of this 
 thought that was passing through his mind, 
 she turned to him rather quickly. 
 
 ' I am wondering who that lady can be — 
 the one in yellow silk. I have never seen 
 her before, and I know most of the Hakes 
 friends. Do you know her name ?' 
 
 ' Certainly I do. She is my sister.'
 
 BREAKING THE ICE 43 
 
 * Your sister !' 
 
 ' She is my younger sister, and keeps my 
 house — at least, she thinks she does — but 
 her views on housekeeping are somewhat 
 h'mited.' 
 
 ' I am afraid you are rather satirical.* 
 ' Not at all. I leave satire to Pamela — 
 she is an adept in it.' 
 
 * Pamela ! What a droll, old - fashioned 
 name ; but somehow 1 rather like it.' 
 
 ' You have an uncommon name yourself, 
 have you not, Miss Meredith ?' 
 
 ' I suppose I have — Gerda. It is pure 
 Saxon, my grandfather says. He wanted 
 my sister Doris to be called Rowena, but 
 mother rebelled. She said Rowena was 
 such an uncomfortable name.' 
 
 * I cannot say that I admire it.' 
 
 ' No, nor I ; but I like Gerda. I am so 
 glad they did not call me Maria — after 
 Sterne's Maria, you know. I believe grand- 
 father proposed that. I always pity people 
 with ugly names. I think people should be 
 allowed to re-christen themselves when they 
 arrive at a proper age. What a dreadful idea 
 to be a Fanny, or a Sophia, or an Emma all 
 one's life !'
 
 44 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 ' I think you may rest satisfied with your 
 sponsor's choice.' 
 
 ' Yes, and your sister also. How strange 
 to think you are a doctor!' 
 
 ' Where does the strangeness lie. Miss 
 Meredith ? I am very proud of my pro- 
 fession.' 
 
 ^ And rightly, too. I did not mean any- 
 thing disparaging. It only seemed to me 
 a curious coincidence that your business 
 should be saving lives. But you have never 
 risked your life before in doing it, have you ?' 
 
 ' I don't believe I risked it this afternoon.' 
 Another white fib. * You make too much 
 of a slight service.' 
 
 * A slight service !' — her lip curling. ' Never 
 mind, I will keep my gratitude to myself, for 
 I see I am boring you. Nevertheless, I shall 
 persist in thinking that I owe my life to you.' 
 
 ' What nonsense !' but he reddened a little. 
 
 For the first time in his life he did not 
 mind hearing his good deeds magnified. 
 Perhaps it was her quiet voice or manner 
 that pleased his taste. 
 
 As he gave her some grapes — they had 
 arrived at dessert by this time, for their con- 
 versation had been interlarded with intervals
 
 BREAKING THE ICE 45 
 
 of silence — he told himself, with a twinge of 
 remorse, that he would never judge anyone 
 so hastily again. He had been accusing 
 her of coldness and pride ; he had even told 
 himself that she had been too high and 
 mighty to condescend to talk to a humble 
 doctor. How he had wronged her ! She 
 was treating him with the utmost courtesy 
 and consideration. Her brief haughtiness 
 had been confessed with childlike contri- 
 tion ; what he had taken for reserve had 
 been a vain attempt to cloak feelings too 
 deep for utterance. She was evidently 
 different from other girls ; she took life 
 more gravely and earnestly. Most likely 
 she was full of crude theories. Probably 
 she made as many mistakes as other people, 
 but he had never seen anyone so genuine. 
 
 ' Do you live in London ?' she asked him 
 rather abruptly, but he shook his head. 
 
 ' Not now, we live at Cromehurst ; but that 
 is near London, you know. I have gone 
 in partnership with a doctor there ; it seems a 
 good opening,' rather reflectively. 
 
 ' What is his name ? — I know Cromehurst,' 
 with a certain quickness that seemed natural 
 to her.
 
 46 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 ' Dr. Brown — is he a friend of yours ?* a 
 little dubiously. 
 
 ' Not a friend,' as though reproving the 
 implied doubt ; ' but I know him slightly — 
 at least, I know his daughter Jessie.' 
 
 ' Jessie Brown !' It was his turn to be 
 surprised now. 
 
 ' Yes, I have an aunt living at Cromehurst 
 — Mrs. Glyn. Her husband — my uncle, I 
 mean — is the Vicar of St. Jude's ;' but she 
 was checked by an exclamation from Dr. 
 Lyall. 
 
 ' I know Mrs. Glyn — Pamela has taken a 
 great fancy to her ' 
 
 Here he was interrupted by an expressive 
 look of the hostess round the table. He 
 thought Miss Meredith rose a little re- 
 luctantly. 
 
 ' How stupid just to break off in the most 
 interesting part, and Aunt Clare is always so 
 interesting to me !' 
 
 ' Never mind ; it shall be continued in our 
 next,' he returned, following her to the door, 
 and to this she had smilingly assented. Dr. 
 Lyall felt a little giddy as he went back to 
 his seat and helped himself to filberts ; perhaps 
 it was that tumble of his — perhaps * I beg
 
 BREAKING THE ICE 47 
 
 your pardon, what did you say ?' in rather a 
 confused voice. 
 
 ' All right, my dear fellow ; I only asked 
 you to pass the botde. Capital wine, this of 
 Hake's ! Did you try the madeira ? No ! 
 Good heavens ! then you have lost something. 
 — Hake, old man, I am taking your name in 
 vain ; I am warning Dr. Lyall not to taste 
 that vile concoction you call madeira — hand 
 it up here, and it shall be subjected to medical 
 test. — Now then, Lyall, fill your glass, and 
 don't think of your neighbours ;' and Mr. 
 Hamlyn watched the process with friendly 
 and unselfish interest. 
 
 Meanwhile Miss Meredith had followed 
 the other ladies, and had seated herself 
 closely by the fire, trusting that the group of 
 animated talkers gathered on the rug might 
 leave her in peace ; but the next moment 
 someone tapped her lightly on the arm with 
 a fan, and, looking up, she saw Mrs. Hake 
 and the vivacious little lady in yellow regard- 
 ing her with some amusement. 
 
 ' Dreaming, as usual, Gerda ! but you must 
 wake up ; Miss Lyall wants to make your 
 acquaintance, and you must be civil to her 
 for her brother's sake.' And Mrs. Hake
 
 48 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 nodded and smiled as she left them, for a 
 certain deaf old dowager claimed her atten- 
 tion. 
 
 ' What a stupid speech !' observed Miss 
 Lyall scornfully. ' Gertrude is not generally 
 so awkward ; is she not a handsome woman, 
 Miss Meredith ? Do you know, I was her 
 bridesmaid seven years ago.' 
 
 ' Seven years ago !' 
 
 ' Yes, does it not sound dreadful ? Oh, I 
 feel quite old, I assure you ; let me see, I was 
 three-and-twenty last birthday, and Gertrude 
 is six years older than I.' 
 
 ' I always thought she was five-and-thirty 
 at least.' 
 
 ' No ; Indian suns have faded her a little, 
 that is all ; but she is still a fine-looking 
 woman. Nothing is more problematical than 
 age ; so many things add or detract from it — 
 climate, weather, moods and tempers. Now, 
 I don't consider myself a young person at all. 
 I am quite as old as Gertrude — older, in fact ; 
 that is because she is so easy-going, and 
 takes life as It comes, and I am a worrier by 
 profession. By-the-bye ' — as Gerda looked 
 astonished at this outspoken speech — ' I saw 
 you looking at me at dinner ; you asked Alick
 
 BREAKING THE ICE 49 
 
 who I was ; I read the question on your lips, 
 though I could not hear a word. And then 
 you glanced at me again ; when people look 
 at me like that, I am always dying with 
 curiosity to know what they are thinking.' 
 
 ' You make me feel as though I had been 
 rude, Miss Lyall.' 
 
 ^ Not at all ' — fanning herself energetically. 
 * A cat may look at a king. I believe I 
 repaid your inquiring looks with interest. I 
 was envying you with all my heart.' 
 
 ' Envying me !' with a little staccato note 
 of astonishment in her voice. What a very 
 original young person Miss Lyall was, to be 
 sure ! 
 
 * Yes, you are quite the heroine of the 
 evening. You and Alick — Alick is my 
 brother — have been public benefactors. You 
 have furnished us with a fruitful theme for 
 conversation. Did you hear Captain Hake's 
 joke ? He does love making a joke. It 
 was not really clever, but we all laughed at 
 it. I really do think you are to be envied, 
 Miss Meredith. Think how your experience 
 of life has been enlarged since you buttered 
 your toast at breakfast this morning. Things 
 so seldom happen. One dresses and un- 
 
 VOL. I. 4
 
 50 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 dresses, and eats and drinks, and sees one's 
 friends, and that is all.' 
 
 ' Of course, I know you are not serious. 
 Like Captain Hake, you must be fond of a 
 joke. No one in her senses could envy me 
 such a disagreeable experience.' 
 
 ^ Don't be too sure of anyone's sanity. 
 Most of us have a bee in our bonnet. But 
 I declare you are turning quite pale at 
 the mere recollection. I shall change the 
 subject. Do you know Mr. Fenwick, the 
 gentleman who took me in to dinner — Mr. 
 Heno^ist Fenwick ? He tells me he has a 
 brother Horsa.' 
 
 ' Yes, I know them both. They are very 
 pleasant and agreeable young men. I think 
 I like Mr. Hengist Fenwick best.' 
 
 ' I am not at all surprised at that. From 
 what he told me at dinner, his brother must 
 be a prig. I assure you I found him most 
 clever and amusing. Don't you adore 
 lawyers ?' 
 
 ' I don't know. I have never thought 
 about it. Mr. Fenwick is the only lawyer I 
 know.' 
 
 * How odd ! Why, I know a dozen at 
 least. I formed that opinion a great many
 
 BREAKING THE ICE 
 
 years ago. They are such well-read men, 
 and know so much about human nature.' 
 
 ' You might say the same of doctors.' 
 
 ' Not in the same way. A doctor is always 
 looking at the diseased side of human nature, 
 and the idea is not wholesome. I did so 
 want Alick to be a lawyer, but he is mad on 
 his profession.' 
 
 ' He is quite right,' returned Gerda softly. 
 * Next to the clerical, it is the noblest and 
 grandest of all professions. Fancy spending 
 one's whole life in relieving pain !' 
 
 Pamela looked at her curiously, and 
 slightly shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 'You are an enthusiast. Miss Meredith! 
 What a pity my brother does not hear this 
 panegyric on his beloved profession ! He 
 does not hear these sentiments from me. I 
 must own he does not bore or disgust me 
 with any talk about his cases. He is too 
 gentlemanly for that. Besides, it is not pro- 
 fessional. But he cannot help being grave 
 and abstracted sometimes, and then I find 
 him poor company.' 
 
 ' Your brother tells me you live at Crome- 
 hurst,' observed Gerda tentatively. She 
 found Miss Lyall's outspoken speeches a little 

 
 52 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 embarrassing. She had no wish to talk of 
 Dr. Lyall, professionally or otherwise. ' Jessie 
 Brown is an old acquaintance of mine.' But 
 Pamela received this piece of intelligence 
 rather indifferently. 
 
 * Oh, everyone knows Jessie. But 1 
 confess she does not interest me particularly. 
 We are both great talkers, and as I never 
 think that she says anything worth hearing, 
 I find her rather a bore. Don't you hate 
 people who never look beyond the surface of 
 things ?' 
 
 ' I certainly do not hate Jessie. She is a 
 very sweet-tempered, sensible girl.' 
 
 * Oh, her sweet temper was born with her. 
 There is no merit in that. Jessie's feelings 
 are all nicely padded by nature. Of course, 
 I am civil to her, because her father is Alick's 
 partner. But we have not a taste in 
 common. 
 
 ' It seems that I have chosen an unfor- 
 tunate subject for discussion. I am half 
 afraid to mention my aunt, Mrs. Glyn.' 
 
 ' Mrs. Glyn !' with a sudden change of 
 manner. ' Oh, that is quite different. There 
 is no one I like better. And yet I have only 
 known her a few months. We have only
 
 BREAKING THE ICE 53 
 
 lived at Cromehurst since last May. She is 
 one of the most interesting women I know. 
 Is she really your aunt ?' 
 
 ' Yes, my mother's sister — her only sister. 
 But I am afraid we do not see much of her. 
 I am going to stay with her soon. I am 
 very fond of her.' 
 
 ' That accounts for a certain puzzled 
 feeling that I had when I saw you first. 
 You seemed to remind me of someone. Of 
 course, I see now that it is Mrs. Glyn. Your 
 colouring is very different, but you have her 
 expression. When I paid my first visit, I 
 remember she looked at me in the same 
 quiet searching way, as though she were 
 boring for hidden treasure, and hoped it 
 would come to light presendy.' 
 
 ' How absurd you are !' 
 
 * Am I ? When you know me better, you 
 will find I am always absurd when I get on 
 with people. I never talk nonsense to Jessie 
 Brown — she would not understand it. Ah ! 
 here come the gentlemen. What a time they 
 have been ! I suppose Captain Hake has 
 been making some more of his jokes. Alick 
 is steering a straight course to us. Tiresome 
 fellow ! I should like to send him away.'
 
 54 SIR GODFRETS GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Gerda felt that she could hardly endorse 
 this opinion. Miss Lyall had charmed her 
 with her sprightliness and frankness ; even 
 her touch of sharpness, the delicate spleen 
 that had infected some of her speeches, had 
 only added piquancy to her talk ; but she was 
 not unwilling to admit Dr. Lyall to the con- 
 versation, and she welcomed him with the 
 gentle smile that was habitual to her, but 
 he had scarcely opened his mouth to make 
 a remark, when her cousin came up to 
 her. 
 
 ' I am sorry to interrupt you, Gerda,' he 
 said ; ' but that ass Johnson has put in an 
 appearance half an hour too soon, and now 
 Uncle Godfrey declares that the horses are 
 not to be kept waiting. I always said John- 
 son ought to have the sack ; he has done it 
 on purpose.' 
 
 ' Nonsense, Gerard ! he is only getting a 
 little deaf, poor old man! But must we really 
 go ?' and there was a trace of disappointment 
 in her tones. * It is so early, and Mrs. Hake 
 will think it so unkind to break up her party. 
 Shall I speak to grandpapa ?' But Mr. 
 Hamlyn shook his head so decidedly at this, 
 and elevated his eyebrows in such a meaning
 
 BREAKING THE ICE 55 
 
 fashion, that Gerda took the hint Hke a wise 
 woman, and rose at once. 
 
 ' We shall be near neighbours for the next 
 few days,' observed Dr. Lyall, as he shook 
 hands with her, ' so I hope I shall have the 
 pleasure of seeing you again.' 
 
 ' Of course we shall see Miss Meredith,' 
 interposed his sister in her quick way ; ' she 
 is coming to stay at St. Jude's Vicarage soon. 
 Besides, I dare say we shall all be skating in 
 Chesterton Park to-morrow ; Gertrude was 
 talking about it this afternoon. Of course 
 you will be there, Miss Meredith ?' 
 
 ' I am quite sure Miss Meredith will do 
 nothing of the kind,' returned Dr. Lyall 
 decidedly. ' If she will take my advice, she 
 will avoid the lake for a day or two,' for his 
 quick eyes had noticed an involuntary shiver 
 on the girl's part. 
 
 ' I do not know,' was the doubtful reply. 
 ' Doris will be there, and you must all come 
 up to tea at the Hall ;' and then she turned 
 away and made her excuses to her hostess, 
 and again Dr. Lyall was conscious of that 
 slight feeling of giddiness, as he joined the 
 group of gentlemen on the hearthrug.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HE IS A DEAR, GOOD FELLOW 
 
 'Actions, looks, words, steps, form the alphabet by which 
 you may spell character.' — Lavater. 
 
 The drive back to the Hall jwas happily a 
 short one ; nevertheless, Gerda leant back 
 against the cushions and closed her eyes 
 wearily. She was in no mood to enter into 
 the discussion on Johnson's stupidity. At 
 first her grandfather had assented fretfully 
 to Gerard's wrathful remarks, and then all of 
 a sudden he had veered round. 
 
 ' I could not part with him, you know. 
 He may be a blockhead, as you say, Gerard, 
 but he has lived with me thirty years. I 
 don't believe Dalton gave the order properly. 
 A quarter to eleven, those were my words — 
 a quarter to eleven sharp.'
 
 'HE IS A DEAR, GOOD FELLOW P 57 
 
 ' And so the carriage was brought round 
 at a quarter-past ten. You should have sent 
 him back, Uncle Godfrey ; that would have 
 given him a lesson. I, of course, know the 
 horses must not stand this weather. What 
 right has a servant to interfere with one's 
 evening's enjoyment ? 1 would have sent 
 him back, and he would have been more 
 punctual next time.' 
 
 ' I dare say you would have done so,' 
 retorted Sir Godfrey crossly. ' You young 
 people only think of your own enjoyment. 
 It would never enter your head that John- 
 son is getting old, and that sitting on the 
 coach-box in this cutting wind is not likely 
 to improve his rheumatism. You will learn 
 more humanity when you are my age.' 
 
 Gerard felt inclined to retort. But he was 
 a good-tempered fellow, and decided to hold 
 his peace. Johnson's rheumatism was not 
 the cause of this early break-up — he knew 
 better than that. Sir Godfrey was tired, and 
 had hailed the prospect of their speedy 
 departure with rapture. He was getting 
 old as well as Johnson, and he rather missed 
 his evening nap. He had caught at the 
 excuse, and would listen to no plea on his
 
 58 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 host's part. The horses could have been 
 housed in the stables at Braeslde, Johnson 
 could have warmed his old bones in the 
 servants' hall, and Gerda could have finished 
 her conversation with Dr. Lyall, if only he 
 would have listened to reason. 
 
 ' ril pension them all off when I am 
 master,' thought Gerard for the hundredth 
 time. ' A pack of lazy old fools !' And then 
 he hummed a tune, and drummed on the 
 frosted window-pane, while Sir Godfrey 
 grumbled on. 
 
 The ladies were still in the drawing-room, 
 Dalton informed them, so Sir Godfrey at 
 once betook himself thither, to pour his last 
 real or imaginary grievance into his 
 daughter's attentive ear. As he marched 
 across the hall, with his aristocratic old nose 
 well in the air, Gerard whispered slily in his 
 cousin's ear. 
 
 ' Poor old boy ! he is put out with me 
 because I was hard on Johnson. Did you 
 hear him just now : '' Go home, Johnson, 
 and have something hot. I will tell Mrs. 
 Morgan to send you some whisky. We are 
 getting too old to be out in this weather." I 
 believe those two old fellows play into each
 
 HE IS A DEAR, GOOD FELLOW r 59 
 
 Other's hands. It is an understood thing 
 between them that when the Squire goes out 
 the carriage is to be brought round half an 
 hour earher than it is ordered.' 
 
 ' Nonsense, Gerard ! how can you talk so 
 ridiculously ?* 
 
 ' Well, I won't. But — eh — what/ staring 
 at her reproachfully, 'you are not going to 
 leave me ? Are you aware,' in an injured 
 voice, ' that you have not spoken a word to 
 a fellow all this evening ?' 
 
 ' I am quite sure that I have spoken a 
 great many words to a fellow ; indeed, I was 
 talking to one for nearly two hours.' 
 
 * Oh, you mean Lyall ! Don't try to be 
 funny, my fair Saxon. It does not suit your 
 style at all.' 
 
 ' I am so tired that I have not a grain of 
 fun left in me. I have a horrible disjointed 
 feeling, as though my limbs don't belong to 
 me. If you will keep me when I want to go 
 to bed, you might have the courtesy to bring 
 me a chair.' 
 
 ' You are in a captious mood, I see/ as he 
 obeyed her. And then he relented at the 
 sight of her pale face. ' Poor litde thing ! I 
 expect that tumble rather upset you. Do
 
 6o SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 you know/ pulling his moustache, and 
 looking at her plaintively, ' I owe that fellow 
 a grudge. I would have given a good deal 
 to have been in his place.' 
 
 In spite of her fatigue, Gerda burst out 
 laughing. 
 
 ' May I ask the reason of this unseemly 
 mirth ?' And there was a cloud on Gerard's 
 genial face, though he still spoke in mock 
 wrath. ' Do you think I should not have 
 pulled you out as quickly as he did ?' 
 
 Gerda restrained her desire to laugh 
 again. 
 
 ' Don't, Gerard, there's a good boy ! 
 Don't pretend to be jealous, or I shall be 
 rude enough to repeat your own words, and 
 say it does not suit your style at all.' 
 
 ' I never said I was jealous,' in a decidedly 
 aggressive voice. ' You women think such 
 a lot of yourselves. I only said that I 
 wished I had been in his place.' 
 
 ' And it was very nice of you to say it,' 
 soothingly. ' Don't let us quarrel, Gerard. 
 We never do misunderstand each other, do 
 we ?' And there was something pointed in 
 Gerda's tone. ' Did you talk to Miss Lyall 
 at all ? Oh, I forgot — there was no time.
 
 'HE IS A DEAR, GOOD FELLOW P 6i 
 
 She is such a droll, amusing little person ; 
 but I fancy she has a great deal in her. 
 They live at Cromehurst, and Aunt Clare is 
 a friend of hers. They are going to stay for 
 the remainder of the week at Braeside, so 1 
 dare say we shall see a good deal of them.' 
 
 ' Humph ! I have no objection.' And 
 Gerard spoke in his usual good-humoured 
 tone. ' Lyall seems a pleasant fellow, and as 
 pleasant fellows are not as plentiful as black- 
 berries in these benighted parts, one must 
 be thankful if one comes our way now and 
 then.' 
 
 ' Do you think he has a good practice, 
 Gerard ?' 
 
 ' My dear child, how on earth am I to 
 know Dr. Lyall's private affairs ?' 
 
 * No, of course not. I only meant — how 
 could he leave his patients for a week ?' 
 
 * Oh, I see. That is easily answered. 
 Business was slack — doctors have slack 
 times, you know — and he had not been 
 well, and his partner made him take a 
 week's holiday ; he told me so himself.' 
 
 ' Not well !' and Gerda's face lengthened 
 visibly. 
 
 * You are thinking the cold water was
 
 62 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 rather bracing treatment for an invalid. 
 Don't be afraid ; a man of Dr. Lyall's sturdy 
 build is not made of sugar or salt. Now, in 
 spite of your bad treatment of one of the 
 best fellows of my acquaintance, I am going 
 to be magnanimous, and allow you to retire. 
 Say good-night prettily and civilly, and I will 
 light your candle ;' and Gerard was as good as 
 his word. 
 
 'He is a dear boy, and I am very fond of 
 him !' thought Gerda, as she walked slowly 
 up the broad staircase ; but she sighed as she 
 said this, and a troubled look came into her 
 eyes. 
 
 The sisters' rooms had a door of com- 
 munication between them ; in fact, Gerda's 
 room could only be reached by passing 
 through Doris's. It was smaller and less 
 convenient in many ways, but it had one 
 advantage in Gerda's eyes — it possessed a 
 window, small-paned and heavily mullioned, 
 with a charming view of the park, and a 
 glimpse of the lake shining between the 
 trees ; and this view, so green, so tranquil, 
 was a continual feast to Gerda. 
 
 Both rooms were prettily — nay, hand- 
 somely — furnished; but the most casual eye
 
 'HE IS A DEAR, GOOD FELLOW!' 63 
 
 would have noted a marked difference in all 
 minor details. If it be true, as some wise- 
 acres have affirmed, that a person's room is 
 a sure exponent of his secret tastes and 
 desires — a sweeping assertion that must be 
 taken with a grain of salt, for frequently it is 
 the exponent of some deceased relative's 
 taste — these prettily-furnished virginal cham- 
 bers showed a great dissimilarity in the dis- 
 position of the sisters. 
 
 Most young people would have given the 
 preference to Doris's room — it was so neat, 
 so charming in its arrangements, so full of 
 girlish nick - nacks. Nothing had been 
 omitted. A little French timepiece ticked 
 on the mantelpiece, vases of fresh flowers 
 were on the toilet-table, some beautifully- 
 framed landscapes and the head of a girl 
 adorned the faintly- stencilled walls, and a 
 small collection of favourite poets — sacred 
 and profane — were arranged in the tiny 
 bookcase. 
 
 Gerda's room was equally well furnished, 
 but there was a touch of severe simplicity in 
 its details. There were no nick-nacks — only 
 a single vase of flowers and some ivory 
 brushes were on the toilet-table.
 
 64 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 A proof engraving- of * Mors Janua Vitae ' 
 hung opposite the bed, and two or three 
 other fine engravings, all of sacred subjects, 
 were carefully arranged on the wall. A 
 carved oak cupboard and antique-looking 
 desk, and some books in quaint, heavy bind- 
 ings, were the only objects that attracted the 
 eye. 
 
 A low easy-chair stood beside the fire- 
 place. After a moment's hesitation Gerda 
 sank into it — weariness prevailed against 
 common-sense. She knew she ought to go 
 to bed at once. Her head ached, and she 
 felt oppressed with unusual lassitude. 
 
 ' I suppose I have been a fool/ she told 
 herself with tardy penitence, for she was 
 never slow in acknowledging her faults to 
 herself or others. Conscience was taking 
 her revenge. Of course, her mother and 
 Doris had been right, and she had been 
 wrong. She had known all the evening 
 that she oueht to have been In her own 
 room ; and yet how she had insisted to 
 everyone that nothing ailed her, that she 
 was well — perfecdy well. She had said as 
 much to Dr. Lyall, and he had calmly looked 
 her in the face, and fiatly contradicted her.
 
 'HE IS A DEAR, GOOD FELLOW F 65 
 
 * You are not well at all, and unless you rest, 
 you will find that out for yourself to-morrow.' 
 She had thought him very rude at the time. 
 No gentleman, not even a doctor, should con- 
 tradict a lady ; but she was obliged to own 
 now that he was a true prophet. Why had 
 she been such a self-willed goose, and given 
 them all so much trouble ? Her mother had 
 almost shed tears over her wilfulness. She 
 had acted in a way that surprised herself, 
 for she had even shown temper to Dr. Lyall. 
 What had made her so anxious to go to this 
 special dinner-party — she, who always voted 
 dinner - parties as altogether ridiculous for 
 young people ? Well, her motives had been 
 somewhat mixed, and, in short, she was too 
 tired to try and analyze them. She had been 
 anxious to thank the man who had saved her 
 life. She had even felt some degree of 
 curiosity about him ; he had been kind ; 
 yes, on the whole, his conversation had in- 
 terested her, and she had been sorry when 
 it had been interrupted ; but, all the same, 
 she was not sure she liked him. He had 
 such a quiet manner — almost a repressive 
 manner. It had kept her in check, some- 
 how. Her gratitude — her very natural 
 VOL. I. 5
 
 66 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 gratitude — had seemed to embarrass him. 
 She had never seen a man so put out of 
 countenance by a few simple remarks. He 
 must be rather reserved — a self-contained, 
 modest sort of person — and yet he looked 
 very clever. Now and then he seemed as 
 though he were laughing at her — yes, she 
 was sure he was satirical. When he knew 
 a person well, he would say teasing things ; 
 and yet once or twice there had been 
 something gentle, almost sympathetic, in his 
 tone. 
 
 ' He has a firm mouth — of course, a doctor 
 ought to be firm, or his patients would not 
 trust him. I wonder why I can't make up 
 my mind if I like him or not. I generally 
 either like or dislike a person at once.' She 
 paused, stifled a yawn, and then muttered 
 under her breath, ' Most decidedly I do not 
 dislike him — on the contrary, I should rather 
 like to talk to him again.' 
 
 ' You naughty child !' observed a crisp 
 young voice from the outer room. ' Do you 
 know you have never bidden mother good- 
 night ? Gerard came in just now and said 
 you had gone to bed. We thought you 
 were chattering to him In the hall. Why'
 
 *HE IS A DEAR, GOOD FELLOW P 67 
 
 — and here Doris appeared in the doorway — 
 ' you have not even taken off your dress 
 yet.' 
 
 ' I was too tired to move. I forgot 
 mother — shall I go down to her now i*' 
 
 ' For pity's sake, no ! — your white face 
 would give her a nightmare. Besides, 
 Grand is talking to her, and he is not 
 exactly in a nice mood. They have got on 
 the old subject ; that's why I ran away. Oh 
 dear ' — as Gerda shivered — ' you are cold ! 
 Do make haste, for your bed is so nice and 
 warm. Shall I brush your hair ? — you are 
 not a bit fit to do it yourself;' and to this 
 Gerda languidly assented. 
 
 * It is so funny !' she said drowsily, as 
 Doris skilfully manipulated the long fair 
 hair that almost enveloped her; *I am as 
 tired as possible, and yet I do not feel sleepy. 
 How nicely you brush, Dorrie — so smoothly 
 and quietly ! You have no idea how sooth- 
 ing it is when one's head aches.' 
 
 ' Have you got a headache, poor dear ?' in 
 a delightfully sympathetic voice. ' I am so 
 sorry ; I wanted to talk to you about the 
 dinner-party. Gerard said Dr. Lyall took 
 you in to dinner — but I suppose I must not
 
 68 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 ask any questions ; it will only make your 
 head worse.' 
 
 ' I do not mind talking if you will only go 
 on brushing. Yes, Dr. Lyall took me in to 
 dinner, and we had a long talk. Is it not 
 strange — he lives at Cromehurst, and they 
 actually know Aunt Clare ! When we went 
 into the drawing-room Mrs. Hake introduced 
 his sister to me.' 
 ' Is she nice ?' 
 
 ' Yes, I think so ; but she is very original. 
 I never heard anyone talk in quite the same 
 way ; but I found her very interesting.' 
 ' Is she pretty ?' 
 
 ' Well, not exactly. I thought so at 
 dinner — she sat nearly opposite to me — and 
 I was very much struck with her, and asked 
 Dr. Lyall if he knew her name : he was so 
 amused. She is litde and dark ; and when 
 she talks and laughs a beautiful colour comes 
 into her face, and makes her look so brilliant ; 
 but she is not a bit pretty really, it is only 
 her colouring and animation. Her nose is 
 rather aggressively pointed and obstinate look- 
 ing, and her lips are too thin and close too 
 firmly for a girl. But I must own she has 
 bewildering eyes.'
 
 HE IS A DEAR, GOOD FELLOW r 69 
 
 ' Dear me, Gerda ! what a description ! I 
 have never seen a pair of bewildering eyes in 
 my Hfe.' 
 
 ' I think I mean eyes that puzzle you a 
 little, and set you wondering about their 
 owner. Miss Lyall's eyes never looked the 
 same for long together. One minute they 
 were sparkling with fun and animation, and 
 the next they had a wistful, melancholy look 
 in them. They had always that expression 
 when she was silent.' 
 
 ' I mean to make her acquaintance to- 
 morrow. She has evidently bewitched you 
 — you so seldom seem interested in people. 
 You don't tell me how you liked Dr. Lyall. 
 I cannot say he made much impression on 
 me, but, then, I only saw him for ten minutes. 
 I don't like a rough brown moustache.' 
 
 ' A rough brown moustache !' in rather a 
 surprised tone. 
 
 * Yes ; Dr. Lyall seems by no means par- 
 ticular about his personal appearance. And 
 he looked so small and insignificant beside 
 Gerard. Gerard was handsomer than ever 
 this evening.' 
 
 * So you always say. I believe you are 
 half in love with him yourself. Oh ! you
 
 70 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 hurt me then. Did you pull my hair to 
 punish me for my naughty speech ? I was 
 only in fun, Doris. You need not turn so 
 red — I can see your reflection in the looking- 
 glass, and you are the colour of a peony !' 
 
 ' I shall leave off brushing your hair if you 
 make such disagreeable remarks ;' and Doris 
 walked away in girlish dudgeon, but Gerda 
 caught her by the dress. 
 
 ' You silly child, to mind my absurd joke ! 
 Give me a kiss directly, and I will promise 
 never to do it again. Come and sit down 
 for a moment — I must ask one question. 
 What was Grand talking about when you 
 left the drawing-room ?' 
 
 ' Do you really want to know ?' — rather 
 reluctantly. 
 
 * Yes — yes — please tell me as quickly as 
 possible.' 
 
 * Well, he told mother that he was getting 
 sick and tired of all this procrastination, and 
 that he meant to have a serious talk with 
 Gerard on the first opportunity.' 
 
 * Oh dear ! oh dear !' 
 
 * He said he did not believe it was Gerard's 
 fault at all — that you were simply playing 
 with him out of girlish perversity and non-
 
 'HE IS A DEAR, GOOD FELLOW !' 71 
 
 sense ; that all this stand-offishness on your 
 part meant nothing but temper ; and that 
 mother ought to scold you into reason.' 
 
 ' I don't fancy mother will try that plan,' 
 was the dry response. 
 
 ' No, poor mother looked so worried. 
 Really, Grand gives her no peace ! Should 
 you not hate to be in her position ? — she is 
 so utterly dependent on him.' 
 
 ' Not more dependent than you or I, Doris.' 
 
 ' True ; but, then, we are young, and have 
 a hundred ways of amusing ourselves ; we 
 are not always at his beck and call as mother 
 is. When anything goes wrong she always 
 has to bear the brunt of it. It is Honoria 
 this and Honoria that from m.orning to 
 night. If I were mother, I should hate the 
 sound of my own name.' 
 
 ' Poor dear mother ! she is terribly afraid of 
 him. If only she had Aunt Clare's spirit !' 
 
 ' I don't agree with you. I dare say Aunt 
 Clare repents of having her own way. I 
 don't believe Uncle Horace makes her really 
 happy. I am quite sure by this time that 
 she has repented marrying for love.' 
 
 * I shall tell her what you say one day.' 
 
 Then Doris made a little face at her sister.
 
 72 SIR GODFREY S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 * She will be dreadfully shockt d, and preach 
 sentiment for an hour on end, from sheer 
 sense of duty. Ah, Dorrie, what a stupid 
 world this is ! What business has Grand to 
 tyrannize over us in this medieval fashion, 
 and insist on our being in love with each 
 other ? Such nonsense ! when we have known 
 each other from babyhood.' 
 
 ' I don't see that makes any difference. 
 Gerard is really very fond of you.' 
 
 * So am I of him. He is a dear, good 
 fellow ; I know no one better. He ought to 
 marry the best woman in the world.' 
 
 ' That is exactly what he means to do ;' 
 and Doris gave her a loving little hug. 
 
 ' No, dear,' rather solemnly ; ' but, all the 
 same, I have no wish to undervalue myself. 
 And 1 think I deserve more than Gerard is 
 ever likely to offer me.' 
 
 ' Why, you would be mistress of the Hall, 
 Gerda !' — opening her eyes rather v/idely at 
 this. ' The future Lady Hamlyn would be a 
 rich woman — immensely rich !' 
 
 ' What nonsense ! As though I were 
 thinking of anything so sublunary ! That is 
 your great fault, Doris : you are so dreadfully 
 matter-of-fact. I love the dear old Hall, but, all
 
 'HE IS A DEAR, GOOD FELLOW!' 73 
 
 the same, it does not follow that I should marry 
 its master. Don't you see, goosie, we are 
 neither of us in love with each other. Some- 
 times Gerard tries to make me believe that he 
 is, but it is only pretence, and, with all his 
 efforts, the poor boy does not do it well. There, 
 I have worked myself up, and made my head 
 worse ! Please don't talk to me any more. 
 If Grand is in his second childhood, I have 
 just cut my wisdom teeth — so friends and 
 relatives may beware of me.' And with 
 these oracular words Gerda patted her sister 
 on the shoulder in a patronizing fashion, and 
 entreated to be left alone. 
 
 ^ There will be an awful tussle one day, and 
 then I shall have to go to Aunt Clare,' she 
 said to herself as she laid her head on the 
 pillow and closed her aching eyes ; but it was 
 a long time before she could sleep. Once, 
 just as she was dropping off into a doze, she 
 seemed to hear the sudden crack of the ice, 
 and felt herself sinking in the cold water, and 
 roused up with a shudder, to find a displaced 
 log had fallen noisily on the hearth, and 
 that the old grandfather's clock in the hall 
 was striking tw^o.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A PAGE OUT OF THE HAMLYN RECORDS. 
 
 ' Men study women as they study the barometer ; but they 
 do not understand until the day after.' — Thoughts of a 
 (2ueen. 
 
 Gerda awoke in a beautiful frame of mind 
 the next morning. To be sure, her head 
 still ached, but there were no bad symptoms. 
 She was neither feverish nor shivering ; no 
 rheumatic pains racked her young limbs, and 
 only a pleasing sense of languor induced her 
 to yield to Doris's entreaties to lie still and 
 take her breakfast in bed. 
 
 She was generally restive in such matters, 
 and inclined to resist all such advice. She 
 had a youthful dislike to any form of 
 coddling. Mrs. Meredith was a woman who 
 loved to exercise her maternal surveillance in 
 season and out of season. A cold, a head-
 
 A PAGE OUT OF THE HAMLYN RECORDS 75 
 
 ache, even a finger-ache, would furnish her 
 with an excuse for a little extra petting. It 
 must be confessed that Gerda received those 
 attentions somewhat impatiently, and was 
 much given to keeping her ailments to 
 herself. 
 
 * Don't let m.other trouble to come up and 
 see me,' had been her parting charge to 
 Doris, and Doris had nodded an assent. 
 Nevertheless, an hour had not passed before 
 Gerda heard her mother's voice at the door 
 asking for admittance. 
 
 ' Were you asleep, dear ? Have I dis- 
 turbed you ?' — kissing her. ' How shockingly 
 pale you look ! Doris says you have a head- 
 ache. I think I shall ask Dr. Reynolds to 
 look in after luncheon.' 
 
 'My dear mother,' and Gerda's placidity 
 vanished in a moment, ' what an absurd 
 idea ! What do I want with Dr. Reynolds ? 
 I am quite well, and only a little lazy, so 
 Doris begged me to rest. Of course, if you 
 talk to me in this fashion, I shall have to get 
 up at once, to prove to you that I am all right.' 
 
 ' You will do nothing of the kind. What 
 a troublesome child you are, Gerda ! Well, 
 we will not talk about Dr. Reynolds just
 
 76 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 now. I had a bad night myself. And no 
 wonder, after all that fright and worry. And 
 then, just because I felt as though I could 
 bear nothing more, your grandfather kept 
 me talking until nearly midnight.' 
 
 Gerda winced, and grew hot. She knew 
 what was coming. Mrs. Meredith, in spite 
 of many excellent qualities, was wholly 
 without tact. It was by no means her habit 
 to keep her troubles to herself. Her father 
 gave her a great deal to bear, and she 
 indemnified herself for her forbearance and 
 patience to the old man by much bemoaning 
 of her hard fate to her young daughters. 
 And it must be owned she generally received 
 from them a vast amount of sympathy. The 
 girls had long ago made up their minds that 
 their mother was kept in undue subjection. 
 ' Grand is always so hard on poor mother,' 
 they would say to each other. And Gerda, 
 who had plenty of courage, would sometimes 
 tell her grandfather so to his face. 
 
 Mrs. Meredith was a delicate-looking 
 woman, with a soft voice and subdued 
 manner. Her spirit had never been a high 
 one, and her many troubles had effectually 
 quenched it.
 
 A PAGE OUT OF THE HAMLYN RECORDS 77 
 
 In her young womanhood she had been 
 exceedingly pretty — far prettier than either 
 of her daughters, as Sir Godfrey was often 
 pleased to tell them ; but no one would have 
 guessed this fact from looking at her faded, 
 gentle face. 
 
 His elder daughter had been Sir Godfrey's 
 favourite. She had been a handsome, strong- 
 willed girl, and she had showed her deter- 
 mination in persisting in marrying a poor 
 curate, who had had the audacity to fall in 
 love with her ; and great and unappeasable 
 had been Sir Godfrey's wrath and grief at 
 this shameful mesalliance, as he termed it. 
 
 The Chesterton estates were strictly en- 
 tailed, and Sir Godfrey's only brother, 
 Captain Hamlyn, was his heir. Sir God- 
 frey's wife, a woman of good birth, had 
 brought him little or no money, so her 
 daughters were wholly dependent on their 
 fathers goodwill, and Clarice — or Clare, as 
 she was commonly called — soon found her- 
 self practically disinherited. 
 
 For some years no invitation had been 
 extended to her or her husband, and though 
 Captain Hamlyn had at last interfered in a 
 good-natured way, and had brought about a
 
 78 SIR GODFREYS GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 reconciliation, Clare had never felt herself to 
 be forgiven. 
 
 Her visits to the Hall were few and far 
 between, and, with the exception of his first 
 formal acceptance of his father-in-law's hos- 
 pitality, it was noticed that the Rev. Horace 
 Glyn never accompanied his wife. 
 
 He was a proud, hard-tempered man, and 
 he would eat no bread offered to him in such 
 a grudging fashion. 
 
 ' Honoria always says that father will come 
 round one day,' his wife would say to him. 
 
 She thought, for their children's sake, that 
 the old man should be humoured, but Mr. Glyn 
 could tolerate no such feminine sophistry. 
 
 ' You may go as often as you like, my 
 dear,' he would answer coldly ; ' indeed, it is 
 your duty to do so from time to time, espe- 
 cially as your father is growing old. But you 
 must excuse me if I remind you that it is no 
 duty of mine.' 
 
 ^ Not for Walter's sake ?' she had once 
 added rather pleadingly, for her boy was as 
 the apple of her eye ; and then he had turned 
 upon her almost savagely. 
 
 ' No, not for Walter's sake,' he had replied. 
 ' I suppose our children are as dear to me as
 
 A PAGE OUT OF THE HAMLYN RECORDS 79 
 
 they are to you, but not even to benefit them 
 will I crawl into a man's house when I know- 
 that he hates me, and grudges me every 
 mouthful that I eat under his roof;' and after 
 this she had dared to say no more. 
 
 Poor Clare ! she was a high-spirited woman, 
 but she had found her master ; and though 
 she loved her husband with the intensity and 
 tenacity of a strong nature, it may be doubted 
 whether he made her perfecdy happy. 
 
 Horace Glyn was ascetic both by habit 
 and conviction. He was a man who on 
 principle would have denied himself any 
 unnecessary luxury, even if he could have 
 afforded it ; but straitened means had for 
 many years debarred him even from the 
 ordinary comforts. 
 
 Since then the living of St. Jude's had 
 been offered him, and though it was by no 
 means a very lucrative piece of preferment, 
 it had lifted him out of the mire of poverty ; 
 and, after his own stern fashion, he had 
 rejoiced and owned himself thankful. But 
 his rejoicings had been feeble compared to 
 his wife's boundless gratitude. 
 
 Clare had gallandy struggled through their 
 season of poverty. Her love for her husband
 
 8o SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 had prevented her from adding to his burdens 
 by any undue repinings, but those years had 
 told upon her. She had suffered, and her 
 pride had suffered ; but she had kept her 
 trouble to herself. In later years she had 
 unbosomed herself to her niece Gerda. A 
 warm attachment had grown up between 
 them, and Clare had tasted a new pleasure 
 in Gerda's sympathy. 
 
 To her she would speak of her love for her 
 old home, of her affection for every familiar 
 spot. ' Honoria never cared for these things 
 as much as I did,' she would say with a sigh, 
 as she recalled some mossy hollow in the 
 park, where the first violets blossomed, or 
 the bank where they found daffodils, all 
 a-blowing and a-growing, one March after- 
 noon. There were other confidences between 
 the aunt and niece — feminine confidences, 
 that would have shocked the austere soul of 
 Horace Glyn. Clare would confess, with 
 much compunction, that the old Adam was 
 as strong as ever within her — that years of 
 poverty had not quenched her love of soft- 
 ness and pretty things. Gerda soon found 
 out why her dearly-loved aunt came so 
 seldom to the Hall.
 
 A PAGE OUT OF THE HAMLYN RECORDS 8i 
 
 ' I should only put you all to shame with my 
 shabby gowns and home-trimmed bonnets,' 
 she said, with a little laugh. ' Here it does 
 not matter. A Vicar's wife may always look 
 shabby, and no one blames her. They only 
 think it sets a good example. Horace would 
 hate to see me too well dressed. He would 
 read texts to me out of Timothy. If I want 
 a new dress I often go without one, because 
 I am so afraid of vexinof- him. He never can 
 understand how quickly women's clothes 
 wear out, especially now dress materials are 
 so cheap.' 
 
 ' I call it a shame of Uncle Horace,' Gerda 
 replied, with youthful passion and vexation 
 in her voice — for she was by no means over- 
 fond of her stern uncle. ' You are such 
 a good-looking woman, Aunt Clare, and 
 when you are well dressed no one can look 
 nicer. He ought to be proud of you, 
 instead of begrudging you a few yards of 
 stuff; 
 
 'Your Uncle Horace is proud of me after 
 his own fashion/ replied Mrs. Glyn, with a 
 soft, peculiar smile. 'And he treats me 
 better than he treats himself. He does not 
 understand how much these things are to a 
 
 VOL. I. 6
 
 82 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 woman. A shabby coat or an old hat — 
 — aren't old hats odious, Gerda ? — do not 
 give him an instant's pain. It is our small 
 minds, my dear, that inflict these minor 
 miseries on us. I believe in his heart he is 
 disappointed that I do not grow up to his 
 perfections. He would like me to be as 
 indifferent to these things as he is himself.' 
 
 ' But that is impossible. Surely Uncle 
 Horace remembers the beautiful home from 
 which he took 3^ou, and that your surround- 
 ings were utterly different from his. He 
 has always had such a hard life. You have 
 told me so. But you have been accustomed 
 to luxury, and to all manner of comfort from 
 your babyhood.' 
 
 * Of course he remembers it. But he 
 thinks it ought to be banished from my 
 recollection. " When yoii did me the honour 
 of marrying me," he has said more than once 
 to me, " you knew you were to be a poor 
 man's wife. You gave up a great deal for 
 me, and I believe I am not ungrateful for 
 the sacrifice. But it is too late now to 
 regret the flesh-pots of Egypt." Was not 
 that speech enough to crush one ?' 
 
 * Never mind,' returned Gerda, kissing her
 
 A PAGE OUT OF THE HAMLYN RECORDS 83 
 
 eagerly. ' In spite of his hard speeches, 
 Uncle Horace thinks there is no one like 
 you.' And in this opinion Gerda's girlish 
 shrewdness was not at fault. ' He thinks 
 it his duty to make that sort of speech. 
 You must come to the Hall, Aunt Clare. 
 Who minds whether your gowns are shabby 
 or not ? I wish mamma had more money, 
 and then she would buy you some. But 
 Grand always looks into the accounts. If 
 we have too many new dresses he grumbles, 
 and says we shall ruin him.' 
 
 Gerda's remark might appear strange to 
 anyone who was not conversant with the 
 family history. But it was not the least part 
 of Mrs. Meredith's troubles that she and her 
 girls were so dependent on Sir Godfrey. 
 Owing to some flaw in her marriage settle- 
 ment — some culpable oversight on the 
 lawyer's part — the greater part of her modest 
 dowry had been squandered by her husband 
 during their brief married life. 
 
 Honoria had married with her father's 
 approval. She had been more fortunate 
 than her sister, and had been able to gratify 
 her inclinations without hindrance or contra- 
 diction from her natural guardian, and for a
 
 84 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 short time things had gone smoothly with 
 the young couple. 
 
 Algernon Meredith had very little money 
 of his own, but he was well connected, and 
 his chief recommendation In Sir Godfreys 
 eyes was that he was the heir of his uncle, 
 Lord Galveston, a peer much noted among 
 his fellows for his eccentricity and his brief, 
 telling speeches in the House. Great was 
 Sir Godfrey's consternation when the news 
 reached his ears that this worthy nobleman, 
 already showing signs of dotage and senility 
 — in reality he was a hale, vigorous man of 
 sixty-two —was on the eve of marriage with 
 a young American beauty, whose sprightly 
 charms had captivated his elderly fancy. 
 
 For a long time Sir Godfrey refused to 
 credit these tidings. But it soon proved no 
 rumour, and before another year had passed 
 Lady Galveston had given birth to a fine 
 boy, and all chance of Algernon's succession 
 to his uncle's tide and estates was rendered 
 null and void. 
 
 The young Captain of Hussars took his 
 disappointment lighdy. He was an easy- 
 going fellow, and was accustomed to take life 
 as it came. If he were a scapegrace, he
 
 A PAGE OUT OF THE HAMLYN RECORDS 85 
 
 was a lovable scapegrace, and was no man's 
 enemy but his own. 
 
 The luck was dead against him, that was 
 all ; but, as he pointed out to his wife, it was 
 now his father-in-law's duty to maintain 
 them. Chesterton Hall was quite as com- 
 fortable quarters as Galveston Castle — in 
 fact, of the two, he rather preferred the 
 former ; and though Sir Godfrey could not 
 be brought to regard the matter in the 
 same light, he nevertheless tolerated his 
 son-in-law's society with less grumbling 
 than might have been expected under the 
 circumstances. 
 
 How long his patience would have lasted 
 is extremely doubtful, but before Doris was 
 a year old, Algernon Meredith's life ter- 
 minated abruptly. He had entered some 
 races as gentleman jockey, and was brought 
 home a corpse. At the last hurdle his horse 
 had fallen with him, and he had broken his 
 neck. 
 
 Poor Honoria had mourned for him long 
 and faithfully. With all his faults and follies, 
 he had been an affectionate husband to her, 
 and, woman-like, she had shut her eyes to 
 his defects of character.
 
 86 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 After his own fashion, her father attempted 
 to console her. He made much of her and 
 the children, and was never weary of point- 
 ing out that it was her duty to rouse herself 
 for the sake of her baby-girls. 
 
 In spite of a good heart, Sir Godfrey was 
 an autocrat even then. He begrudged his 
 daughter no comfort. He was lavish in his 
 gifts to her,' but 'he expected her to conform 
 to all his opinions and caprices. 
 
 Sir Godfrey hated the outward garb of 
 mourning, and the sight of prolonged grief 
 made him impatient. To please him, Mrs. 
 Meredith soon' laid aside her widow's weeds ; 
 and though she did not cease to weep for her 
 young husband, she at least took care that 
 her tears should be shed in secret. On only 
 one point she ventured to oppose him. A 
 few years afterwards he proposed that she 
 should marry again. He had found an ex- 
 cellent match for her — their neighbour, a 
 wealthy bachelor, had made overtures for 
 the hand of the young widow. Even a 
 worm will turn, and Honoria's womanly 
 indignation at this proposal silenced Sir 
 Godfrey at once and for ever. 
 
 * Pooh, pooh, my dear !' he said fretfully,
 
 A PAGE OUT OF THE HAMLYN RECORDS 87 
 
 as she had finished her remonstrance with a 
 fit of passionate crying ; ' you are talking 
 nonsense. Young widows marry again every 
 day, and no one blames them ; indeed, St. 
 Paul recommended them to do so — you may 
 read that for yourself. Poor Algy was the 
 last man to wish you to go on making your- 
 self miserable for his sake ; and, after all, he 
 was not such a loss, poor fellow ! Remem- 
 ber, he gambled away your money.' 
 
 * Do not speak to me of his faults, father. 
 I will not hear it, even from you ;' and 
 Honoria's eyes flashed so fiercely through 
 her tears that Sir Godfrey drew back in 
 alarm. Was her grief turning her brain ? 
 Then she melted, and caught her little 
 Doris to her breast. ' What does it matter 
 what he did with my money .'* He was my 
 husband, and 1 begrudged him nothing — 
 nothing ! Father, you do not mean to be 
 unkind, but you do not understand. I am 
 Algy's widow, and I will remain so. When 
 you are tired of me and the children, you 
 must send us away, and I will work for them 
 and myself too.' 
 
 ' Tut, tut. don't talk nonsense !' was all his 
 answer ; but there had been a glistening in
 
 88 SIR GODFREY S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Ills cold blue eyes, and his voice was a trifle 
 husky. 
 
 Honoria noticed that her father treated 
 her with a good deal of consideration for a 
 long time after this conversation ; perhaps 
 in his heart he respected her all the more 
 for her fealty and devotion to the dead. 
 Certainly, he never again alluded to a 
 second marriage. 
 
 Sir Godfrey had had his troubles too. His 
 only brother had died a very few years after 
 his marriage, leaving his widow and one child, 
 a baby, to his fraternal care. Clare and 
 Honoria were children then, and their cousin, 
 the elder Gerard, had been their favourite 
 playmate at Chesterton Hall. 
 
 But the same fatality overtook him, just as 
 he was in the prime of youth and happiness- 
 He was attacked by some malarious fever in 
 an Indian village, where he and two or three 
 other officers were camping out, and he died 
 without even having seen the child to whom 
 his wife had just given birth. 
 
 Sir Godfrey had loved his nephew dearly ; 
 but before many years were over he had 
 transferred his affections to the younger 
 Gerard, and after his mother's death he had
 
 A PAGE OUT OF THE HAMLYX RECORDS 89 
 
 sent for the boy to the Hall, and had treated 
 him as his own son. When the girls grew up, 
 a new idea occurred to him — what a good 
 thing it would be if Gerard and Gerda were 
 to take a fancy to each other ! 
 
 Gerard would have the estate; but Honoria 
 and her children still needed provision. Sir 
 Godfrey's fortune was only moderate — to 
 settle his daughter comfortably in the dower- 
 house, and provide handsomely for his grand- 
 daughters would certainly impoverish his 
 resources — and yet he was desirous of doing 
 his duty to his own flesh and blood. To be 
 sure, as conscience whispered, Clare was his 
 own flesh and blood too, and his hrst-born as 
 well ; but he would not listen to this sugges- 
 tion. ' Clare has made her bed, and must 
 lie in it,' he thought ; ' she must reap the 
 wages of disobedience. No money of mine 
 shall go into Horace Glyn's pocket ; Honoria 
 has always been dutiful — I must certainly 
 provide for her and her children.' 
 
 Gerard had just hnished his Oxford career, 
 and had taken a satisfactory degree, to his 
 own unmitigated astonishment, when this pet 
 scheme that had been simmering in his great- 
 uncle's brain was dulv laid before him.
 
 90 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Gerard, who was easy-going by nature, 
 showed no repugnance to the plan. He was 
 fond of his cousin Gerda. She w^as not espe- 
 cially pretty ; but he thought her clever and 
 amusing, and they had always been great 
 chums. As he was not in love with anyone 
 else, and his uncle's arguments appeared con- 
 clusive, he was soon brought to say that, if 
 Gerda would have him, he had no objection 
 to marry her. 
 
 ' She will have you, my boy !' returned Sir 
 Godfrey rather hilariously, as he clapped his 
 heir on the shoulder. ' What can she find 
 against you — a fine-built, athletic fellow like 
 you, who will treat her kindly, and give her 
 her own way ? Try her, Gerard — both the 
 girls are young, and have never had a lover 
 — it is first come, first served, in most cases ; 
 and I expect it will be so in hers.' 
 
 Gerard was not quite so sure of this. He 
 knew enough of girls already to make him a 
 little doubtful of results. Gerda was not the 
 girl to say ' Yes ' unless she was quite sure of 
 herself. She would demand a good deal 
 from the man w^hom she accepted as her 
 husband ; but he had pledged his word to 
 Sir Godfrey, and one fine spring evening, as
 
 A PAGE OUT OF THE HAMLYN RECORDS 91 
 
 he was rowing her on the lake in Chesterton 
 Park, he seized his opportunity and spoke to 
 her. 
 
 It was evident that he had taken her com- 
 pletely by surprise ; for as he looked at her, 
 he saw that she turned very pale. She was 
 silent for full hve minutes, and he was still 
 leaning- on his oars watching her, when she 
 glanced up at him rather sharply. 
 
 ^ This is not your own idea, Gerard ; some- 
 body has put this into your head.' 
 
 ' My dear girl !' — in rather an offended 
 voice. 
 
 ' Oh, please don't speak in that injured 
 tone ! Of course, I am not answering you 
 
 properly ' And here Gerda broke into a 
 
 nervous little laugh that made Gerard feel 
 still more uncomfortable. He had quite 
 worked himself by his eloquence to believe 
 he really wished this thing, and his cousin's 
 manner did not altogether please him : ' Do 
 be good, Gerard, and tell me who first sug- 
 gested this. Was it Grand, or ' — knitting 
 her brows thoughtfully — 'but, no, it could 
 not be mother ?' 
 
 ' Why should it be anyone ? Upon my 
 word, Gerda, you are treating a fellow very
 
 92 SIR GODFREY S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 badly ! I dare say I have been a bit abrupt, 
 and that you are not quite prepared for this ; 
 but if you will think over it quietly, and give 
 me your answer later on, I won't press or 
 hurry you. You may not think much of me' 
 — with a touch of real feeling in his voice 
 that made Gerda blush — ' but I am awfully 
 fond of you, and I am sure I should make 
 you a good husband.' 
 
 ' I am sure you would.' And here Gerda 
 raised her eyes and looked at him contem- 
 platively, as though she were trying to picture 
 him in that character. ' Thank you, Gerard 
 dear ! You have done that very nicely, and it 
 almost sounded as though you meant it ; but ' 
 — suddenly beaming at him with a smile — 
 ' you and I know better than that. Have 
 we not been just like brother and sister all 
 our lives ? We will not go and spoil every- 
 thing just because Grand has got this foolish 
 idea in his dear old head.' 
 
 ' Do you mean you won't try to like me ?' 
 And Gerard's tone was as persuasive as 
 though his whole life's happiness were de- 
 pendent on her answer. He was a man, and 
 he did not like to be beaten. 
 
 ' I do like you — I love you dearly, Gerard ;
 
 A PAGE OUT OF THE HAMLYN RECORDS 93 
 
 but I am not going to cheat you into the 
 belief that it is the sort of love you are ask- 
 ing. Put this ridiculous idea out of your head. 
 We never shall care for each other in that way.' 
 
 ' I am not so sure of that ' — for her oppo- 
 sition put him on his mettle. In reality, he 
 was secretly relieved at her decision ; he did 
 not care about being engaged just then ; the 
 whole thing bored him. He wanted to go 
 and hunt bison over the American prairies 
 with some friends of his who were just start- 
 ing. He would rather eat buffalo-hump 
 wM*th his comrades than make love to the 
 best and prettiest girl in the world. Never- 
 theless, he could not refrain from a last word. 
 
 ^ I will have another try, and you can just 
 think it over,' he had said, as he took up the 
 oars again. 
 
 But to this she had made no reply. She 
 had given him her opinion firmly and kindly. 
 If he chose to spoil things, and put their 
 comfortable friendship on an uneasy footing, 
 that was his fault, not hers. 
 
 Sir Godfrey was much chagrined when 
 Gerard informed him of his failure ; but he 
 cheered up when the young man avowed his 
 intention of making another attempt.
 
 94 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 ' That Is right, my boy ! — faint heart ne'er 
 won fair lady. There is nothing Hke stick- 
 ing to a woman, and letting her see that you 
 mean it. Go away for a few months, and 
 shoot as many buffaloes as you can ; and 
 then, when you come back, tackle her boldly 
 - — very likely she'll give you a different 
 answer.' 
 
 So Gerard took his departure gaily, and 
 shot his big game, and sat over his camp- 
 fires, singing choruses to his companions' 
 songs, and enjoyed his life with the zest of 
 an honest, light-hearted young Englishman. 
 
 But, with all his fun, he did not forget his 
 cousin ; and even in Canada and New York, 
 where he danced with many beautiful girls, 
 and made love to them in his easy-going, 
 lazy way, he never really lost his heart to 
 one of them. He was in no hurry to go 
 back to Gerda ; he did not find absence from 
 her at all irksome or wearisome ; neither did 
 he treasure her few letters with a lover's care. 
 But when he saw her again, and she came to 
 meet him with the gentle, affectionate smile 
 with which she always greeted her favourites, 
 he was dimly conscious that she was more 
 interesting to him than other girls, and that
 
 A PAGE OUT OF THE HAMLYN RECORDS 95 
 
 it was a comfortable sort of thing to be talk- 
 ing to her again. 
 
 He had been back at the Hall nearly two 
 months now ; but up to this time he had not 
 tried again, in spite of sundry strong hints and 
 not a little grumbling on Sir Godfrey's pirt. 
 And Gerda was beginning to hope that the 
 troublesome question would not be put to her 
 a second time.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IT SHALL BE NOBODY. 
 
 * To struggle against friends true courage is required. It 
 is like putting out your fire to remain in the cold.' — Thoughts 
 of a Quee?i. 
 
 When Gerda heard her mother's meaning 
 tone she moved restlessly under her eider- 
 down. Why had she allowed herself to be 
 taken at this disadvantage ? she thought, 
 with an inward groan. Why had she been 
 weak enough to yield to Doris's persuasions to 
 lie still and rest ? Of what avail such rest, 
 if she were compelled to listen to her mother's 
 arguments ? 
 
 A certain expression on Mrs. Meredith's 
 face, an ominous droop of the mouth, and the 
 Httle nervous cough that prefaced her re- 
 marks, warned her of the gravity of the 
 situation.
 
 'IT SHALL BE NOBODY' 97 
 
 * When there is anything on one's mind it 
 is always best to talk it all out,' as Mrs. 
 Meredith had once observed ; to which 
 Gerda had replied dryly : 'No doubt it is 
 highly desirable to shift one's burdens on 
 other people's shoulders ; for it is not always 
 possible,' she went on, with youthful senten- 
 tiousness, ' to ease one's mind unless the 
 weight be deposited on your neighbour's.' 
 For, with all her dutifulness, Gerda could be 
 a little sarcastic at times. 
 
 Mrs. Meredith had her knitting in her 
 hands — she was an industrious woman, and 
 never wasted time. As she began to speak 
 her needles moved rapidly. Somehow, that 
 clicking accompaniment added to Gerda's 
 inward irritation. 
 
 * Your grandfather talked to me very 
 seriously last night, Gerda,' she began, not 
 looking at her daughter as she spoke. 
 * Something must have put him out, for he 
 seemed very fidgety. He began about 
 Johnson, and then all at once he veered 
 round to the old subject. Somehow, he 
 seems to think that it is all my fault that 
 you and Gerard have failed to come to an 
 understanding.' 
 
 VOL. I. 7
 
 98 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 ' I hope you told Grand to mind his own 
 business ?' 
 
 ' Indeed, I did nothing of the kind ' — 
 knitting still more rapidly. ' How could you 
 think that I could answer your grandfather 
 after such a fashion ! You ought to be too 
 well aware of our position by this time. Do 
 you want him to remind us that we owe him 
 the very bread we eat ?' 
 
 ' Oh, I am quite sure that he will remind 
 us of that !' 
 
 ' Do you think that it can be pleasant to 
 listen to such speeches, Gerda ? to be told 
 continually that I and my children are 
 burdens ? that except for his bounty we 
 should be paupers ? For your sakes I have 
 borne a good deal ; but last night I felt as 
 though the weight of it all were too heavy 
 for me.' 
 
 ' Poor mother ! It is dreadfully hard on 
 you. He has no right to make you feel 
 your dependent position. It is cruel and 
 unfeeling.' 
 
 ' He does not mean to be cruel ; in reality, 
 he is as fond of you and Doris as though 
 you were his own children. He is an old 
 man, Gerda, and old men are crotchety
 
 '/r SHALL BE NOBODY' 99 
 
 sometimes. He told me last night, with 
 tears in his eyes, that his heart was set on 
 this match, and that he wished it for both 
 your sakes. '' You must talk to her," he 
 said more than once. '' You are her mother, 
 and ought to have influence with her ; make 
 the child see that she cannot do better for 
 herself. There is not a finer young fellow 
 to be found in England. As lads go, he is 
 sound and honest to the core." ' 
 
 'So he is. Grand was quite right there.' 
 
 Mrs. Meredith's face brightened. She had 
 not expected this ready acquiescence. 
 
 * I am sure there are very few young men 
 as good as Gerard. He has the sweetest 
 temper in the world ; and then he is so fond 
 of you. Don't shake your head, Gerda ! 
 He told your grandfather the other night, as 
 seriously as possible, that, as far as he was 
 concerned^ he was ready and willing to marry 
 you to-morrow.' 
 
 A sudden flush crossed Gerda's face. 
 
 ' I am very much obliged to him,' she 
 observed resentfully ; ' but in a question of 
 marriage there are two people to be con- 
 sidered.' 
 
 ' Yes, dear ' — in a soothing voice — ' I am
 
 loo SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 quite aware of that ; but when Gerard spoke 
 to you, you were taken by surprise, and it 
 was natural that you should not be ready 
 with the answer that he wished ; but now 
 you have had time to think it over, and 
 really Gerard himself has so improved !' 
 
 ' Mother,' interrupting her impatiently, 
 * what is the use of saying all this ? Grand 
 will have to give up this ridiculous project : 
 I shall never marry Gerard — never ! I know 
 myself and him far too well to make such a 
 mistake. If he speaks to me again, I shall tell 
 him so plainly, and then very likely he will 
 quarrel with me — oh, dear, how sad that will 
 be ! — but I shall not be able to help myself 
 Men are such odd, contradictory creatures ! 
 They want you to believe all that they 
 choose to tell you. Gerard is not a bit in 
 love with me, but he has got it into his head 
 that we are to marry each other ; and if I 
 say, '' No, thank you," he will be as offended 
 as possible.' 
 
 ' Oh, Gerda !' And at her mother's hor- 
 rified voice Gerda's sharp tones softened. 
 
 * Poor dear mother ! I forgot that you 
 would be a sufferer too. What a temper 
 Grand will be in when Gerard tells him ! I
 
 'IT SHALL BE NOBODY' loi 
 
 expect that I shall have to take refuge with 
 Aunt Clare, for I shall be sent to Coventry. 
 To be sure, Grand cannot lock me up in my 
 room, or condemn me to bread and water ; 
 but all the same, our meals will be terrible. 
 You and Doris will not dare to open your 
 lips to me in his presence, and I shall have 
 to be grateful if Dalton does not forget to 
 hand me the vegetables.' 
 
 'It is no laughing matter, I assure you, 
 Gerda,' returned her mother dismally ; ' and 
 if I believed you I should be wretched at the 
 prospect before us ; but you are only a girl, 
 and will change your mind. If you cared 
 for anyone else, of course, it would be 
 different ; but neither you nor Doris have 
 seen anyone.' 
 
 ' You mean it must be Gerard or No- 
 body ? Then in that case it shall be No- 
 body. Thank you, mother dear, for putting 
 the matter so clearly before me. After all, 
 I am not sure that it is a blessing to be 
 born a girl ; the men have much the best 
 of it. If Gerard be angry with me he can 
 go and console himself with a hundred de- 
 lightful girls ; but for poor unlucky me there 
 is only Nobody.'
 
 I02 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 ' Gerda, I do wish you would not talk so 
 absurdly !' 
 
 * On the contrary, I think I am talking 
 very sensibly, and you must allow that I did 
 not begin the subject. After all, marrying 
 need not be the sole end and aim of a girl's 
 life. I know most people think so, but I 
 choose to differ from them, and I should not 
 be a bit surprised If I and Nobody have a 
 tolerably pleasant life of it.' 
 
 ' I think I had better go down to Doris.' 
 Mrs. Meredith's voice was a little injured; 
 but the spirit of mischief had taken possession 
 of Gerda. 
 
 * After all, I am glad to know my fate,' 
 she continued smoothly. ' I think I am 
 rather to be envied. Think how delightful 
 it will be to please Nobody — to expect No- 
 body — to quarrel with Nobody! I wonder 
 what Gerard will think of his rival ? There 
 is no fear of them coming to blows.' 
 
 But Mrs. Meredith made no reply to this 
 girlish jest. She only sighed once — a weary, 
 oppressed sigh — as she closed the door. It 
 was not the first time Gerda had proved too 
 much for her. There were contradictions in 
 the girl's nature that baffled her. She loved
 
 'IT SHALL BE NOBODY' 103 
 
 both her children dearly, but there were 
 more points of sympathy between her and 
 Doris. Doris's character was simpler and 
 less complex ; she was less clever than 
 Gerda, and she made fewer demands on 
 human nature. Doris cared for most people ; 
 Gerda admitted only a favoured few into her 
 confidence ; her fastidiousness was hard to 
 please, and she saw faults where Doris only 
 saw virtues. This reserve, and a secret 
 craving to find perfection, imposed limits to 
 her enjoyment, and prepared the way for 
 inevitable disappointment. It is always a 
 mistake to ask too much from one's fellow- 
 creatures. There are flaws and defects in 
 the noblest natures ; imperfections and defi- 
 ciencies — the taint and blemish of original 
 sin — meet one at every turn ; it is wiser 
 to make allowances, to be less clear-sighted 
 as to our neighbours' shortcomings. Gerda 
 was guilty of this grievous error of judgment ; 
 her own aims were lofty, and she was too 
 ready to condemn others who were satisfied 
 with a lower plane of thought and action. 
 She was not content to try and live up to 
 her own ideal, but she insisted that others 
 should do the same.
 
 I04 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 She had driven her mother away with a 
 girlish jest, but as soon as she was left alone 
 her mood changed. As she dressed, she 
 questioned herself somewhat sadly. From a 
 child Gerda had been subject to sudden fits 
 of gravity. She would relapse into strange 
 silent moods, of which she could give no 
 adequate account. Once, when a mere 
 infant, her mother had found her sitting in 
 a corner, with her tiny hands clasped over 
 her eyes. 
 
 * Don't 'peak to me, mammie ; I am having 
 a big fink,' she observed solemnly ; and this 
 precocious speech had been treasured in the 
 mother's memory, and had become a family 
 joke. 
 
 Gerda felt herself on the edge of a ' big 
 think ' now, as she stood looking out on the 
 low gray skies and the bare branches of the 
 elms. The sombre, wintry prospect outside 
 her warm room seemed to frame her thoughts 
 fitly. Her mother's words had imparted a 
 touch of frost to the moral atmosphere round 
 her — a chill breath of impending trial, of 
 sudden dilemma, filled her with foreboding. 
 What had she done to bring this trouble 
 on herself ? — for in her secret soul she
 
 'IT SHALL BE NOBODY' 105 
 
 owned it a trouble. Hitherto things had 
 been smooth with her ; if her Hfe had been 
 uneventful and a trifle monotonous, it had 
 presented no difficulties ; there was no dis- 
 sonance in her environment ; certain phases 
 of youthful discontent that had been habitual 
 to her had only been like the rising of 
 healthy sap in some vigorous tree— a sign 
 of life and growth — for even discontent may 
 prove nobility of nature. 
 
 ' With all my faults I have always been 
 true to myself,' she thought, with a sudden 
 bitter presentiment — that holding to the 
 truth under certain conditions may mean 
 martyrdom. 
 
 It is always a hard matter for a girl, how- 
 ever high her spirit may be, to set herself in 
 direct opposition to her lawful governors — 
 parental or otherwise. It is reading St. 
 Paul's precepts upside down — giving them 
 a contrary meaning ; the ' Children, obey ' 
 seems to tingle in her ears ever after. Gerda 
 had plenty of spirit, but she was gentle by 
 nature, and had been brought up in a good 
 old-fashioned way ; she had an invincible 
 dislike to hurt anyone's feelings, especially 
 the feelings of those who were set in authority
 
 io6 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 over her. She would inveigh against them 
 in her honest, downright fashion — she might 
 even air her weapons of sarcasm and girHsh 
 obstinacy ; but when the moment of decision 
 came, the disappointment she must inflict 
 would give her intense pain. 
 
 * I am too thin-skinned,' she said to herself 
 with a sigh ; ' one's nature ought to be more 
 tough when one has an unpleasant duty to 
 perform. I know it will make me miserable 
 to disappoint Grand, but I ought not to mind 
 that. The question is, Is it my duty to 
 marry Gerard ?' But even as she asked 
 herself the question, she dismissed it with a 
 sudden shrug of impatience. ' I will marry 
 Nobody— Nobody will be the best,' she said 
 to herself, as she prepared to leave her room. 
 
 She lingered a moment on the staircase as 
 Doris's voice reached her ear — staccato with 
 horrified amazement : 
 
 ' Oh, Gerard, how horrible !' 
 
 Gerda looked over the balustrade from the 
 same point of view that Dr. Lyall had chosen 
 the previous night ; the hall was neutral 
 territory, and was not considered a place for 
 secrets. Gerda had no scruples of conscience 
 as she leant against the carved oak balus-
 
 'IT SHALL BE NOBODY' 107 
 
 trade, and calmly contemplated the couple 
 who were so cosily ensconced on the seat in 
 the oriel window. They were far too much 
 occupied to notice the interloper. Gerard 
 was polishing a pair of skates, and telling his 
 story at the same time, and Doris's curly 
 head was very near him ; she had a small 
 black kitten in her arms — which was known 
 in the family by the name of Methuselah — 
 and her cheek rested against the sooty coat 
 of the little animal as she watched the process 
 of skate-polishing. 
 
 ' Of course it was rather awkward,' went 
 on Gerard, as he paused to admire the results 
 of his labour. Gerard's hands were never 
 idle ; the lounging, feckless ways of most 
 young men were abhorrent to him ; his spare 
 indoor hours were always well employed. 
 
 His den, as he called it — a large cheerful 
 room opening out of the hall — held numerous 
 tokens of his industry — a lathe, a photo- 
 graphic apparatus, and a half-finished fishing- 
 net, while various specimens of carving, and 
 materials for making flies, bore witness to 
 the fact that Gerard liked to vary his em- 
 ployments. 
 
 Doris had always taken an intelligent
 
 io8 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 interest in these pursuits ; nothing pleased 
 her better than an invitation to the den to 
 help Gerard tie flies, or to watch him at his 
 lathe ; he was always so engrossed by his 
 work, and he whistled over it in such a 
 light-hearted fashion, she often wondered 
 why Gerda did not share her interest. When 
 Gerda entered the den, it was generally with 
 an air of protest, and a shrug over its un- 
 tidiness ; she hinted at times that Gerard 
 might find better employment than cleaning 
 his gun or carving ugly little chessmen. 
 
 ' You are always too busy to open a book, 
 Gerard,' she would say sometimes. ' Carving 
 is all very well, but you never find time to 
 read ; you let your mind rust.' 
 
 Gerard always took these reproofs very 
 lightly. He was no reader ; he was obliged 
 to confess that the serious books that Gerda 
 loved would have bored him excessively ; 
 the paper, or an exciting novel when he was 
 tired or lazy, constituted Gerard's literature. 
 
 ' Everyone to his own taste, my fair 
 Saxon,' he would say good-humouredly ; 
 ' one man's meat is another man's poison. 
 Why cannot we agree to differ ? You are a 
 sensible girl — just answer me that. I don't
 
 'IT SHALL BE NOBODY' 109 
 
 quarrel with you for your infatuation for 
 Carlyle and Emerson, but you should not be 
 down on a fellow because he prefers tying 
 flies to all the essays that ever were written.' 
 
 ' I am not quarrelling with you, Gerard,' 
 Gerda would answer rather sadly, ' and I 
 would not interfere with any of your favourite 
 pursuits for the world ; but it is the duty of 
 every human being to improve his or her 
 mind. How are you to hold your own 
 among other men if you let yourself rust like 
 this ?' 
 
 But Gerda might as well have talked to 
 the wind. Gerard never contradicted her ; 
 he even suffered her to put some favourite 
 author on his table beside his pipes and 
 tackle ; but the weeks passed, and the book 
 was never opened. 
 
 * Well, it was awkward, you know,' went 
 on Gerard, feeling a certain pleasant zest in 
 Doris's wide blue eyes and riveted attention ; 
 'and I confess I felt pretty bad at that moment, 
 and wished I had held my tongue. There 
 was no one near us in the shanty, and he 
 was such a big, hulking ruffian, with a fist 
 that might have felled an ox ; and the liquor 
 he had taken had not improved his temper,
 
 no SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 you see. A bowie-knife is not a pleasant 
 weapon, and he had a revolver besides, while 
 Seymour and I had not even a stick between 
 us. 
 
 ' " I'll teach you, stranger, to insult an 
 American citizen !" he begins, with a horrid 
 grin — I can see the brute now — and cut 
 came the knife. Well, what does Seymour 
 do ? — you know what a dapper little fellow 
 Seymour is, hardly up to my shoulder, but 
 as cool as brass — he is a plucky chap is 
 Seymour ! 
 
 * *' My dear sir," he said, stepping between 
 us as quietly as possible, " don't take any 
 notice of this poor fellow ;" and here he 
 actually tapped his forehead in a very signifi- 
 cant way. " Brain - fever, you know, from 
 over-work ; could not be trusted anywhere 
 alone ; contradicts and argues with every 
 man he sees ; part of the disease ; half my 
 day's work to make apologies ; wanted to argue 
 with the German Emperor once, and the 
 Portuguese Ambassador; sad case, very ; only 
 son of a widowed mother, and considered 
 incurable." Well, the litde idiot went on in 
 this way until our Texas friend was per- 
 suaded to pocket his bowie-knife, and shake
 
 'IT SHALL BE NOBODY' in 
 
 hands ; and we had a big drink all round 
 after that' 
 
 ' He actually believed that Mr. Seymour 
 was your keeper ?' 
 
 ' My dear girl, he was half drunk, you 
 see ; and then I took Seymour's cue, and 
 put on a vacant look. I always tell Seymour 
 that his bit of cheek saved both of our lives. 
 I am pretty strong, you know, but, still, a 
 revolver soon puts an end to a fellow.' 
 
 At this point Gerda thought it time to 
 interfere. 
 
 ' Why do you tell Doris those sort of 
 stories ?' she observed reproachfully. ' You 
 have made her look quite pale ; she will 
 dream of it to-night, and wake me up by 
 calling out in her sleep.' 
 
 ' Oh, you are there, are you, fair Saxon ?' 
 observed Gerard, quite unabashed at this 
 rebuke. 
 
 If he had glanced round at Doris he 
 would have discovered for himself that 
 Gerda was right. Doris was biting her 
 pretty lips to keep back the tears ; she was 
 a tender-hearted little soul, and was easily 
 moved. Gerard had been in danger — in 
 real, actual danger. This thought prevented
 
 112 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 her from perceiving the humour of the 
 story. 
 
 ' I wish I had known this when Mr. 
 Seymour was here last week,' she remarked, 
 a httle shakily. ' I am sorry now that I 
 said I did not care for him much ; I would 
 have been ever so much nicer to him.' 
 
 * Then you would have made him more 
 conceited than he is already/ retorted Gerda, 
 who had joined them and seated herself by 
 Doris. ' I wonder why little men have always 
 such a good opinion of themselves. With 
 all your faults, Gerard, you are not a bit 
 conceited. Now, Mr. Seymour talks as 
 though his opinion was worth more than 
 most people's.' 
 
 ' He is a cheeky little beggar,' observed 
 Gerard, under his breath ; ' but he is a good 
 sort, you know.' 
 
 * I dare say you know best,' returned 
 Gerda, rather indifferent, ' as he is your 
 friend, or chum. I think you prefer the 
 latter word ; it is very expressive, very : it 
 means so much and so little. For my own 
 part, I did not find him interesting ; his con- 
 versation was limited. We did not have 
 many points of sympathy, I fancy.'
 
 'IT SHALL BE NOBODY' 113 
 
 ' Why do you always abuse Gerard's 
 friends ?' retorted Doris, quite forgetting 
 that she had also professed indifference to 
 Mr. Seymour. ' They are very nice, only 
 you are so fond of finding fault with people ; 
 you want a little world of your own — doesn't 
 she, Gerard T 
 
 ' In that case, I am afraid Seymour and 
 I, and the rest of the other fellows, would 
 be cast into limbo,' observed Gerard, with a 
 rueful glance at his cousin's calm face. * You 
 see, we are not up to the mark in Gerda's 
 eyes. Well, even a worm will turn, and I 
 mean to have my say. Seymour might be 
 better for a few more inches, and he is not 
 what you girls would call a good-looking 
 fellow ; but he is an honest, plucky litde 
 chap, and he did me a good turn that day, 
 and I don't mind saying that I am grateful 
 to him.' 
 
 * You are quite right to stick to him,' 
 returned Gerda magnanimously, and Doris 
 echoed indignandy, ' Of course he is ;' and 
 then the luncheon-bell sounded, and Doris 
 jumped up at once, but the others did not 
 follow her. 
 
 Gerard was putting the final polish to his 
 
 VOL. I. 8
 
 114 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 skates. Gerda hesitated for a moment, and 
 then rose from her seat, and touched him 
 lightly on his shoulder. Her quick woman's 
 instinct had detected the hurt tone of his 
 voice. With all his easy good-nature, Gerard 
 was not invulnerable ; he looked up a little 
 gravely as she touched him. 
 
 ' I did not mean to be hard on your 
 friend, Gerard ; I am afraid you are just a 
 little bit hurt with me because I said Mr. 
 Seymour was conceited.' 
 
 ' Oh, it was not that,' he returned, for 
 this little apology mollified him at once. 
 ' Seymour lays himself open to that sort of 
 remark, and he certainly has a tolerably 
 good opinion of himself. I only wish some- 
 times that you cared more for the people 
 and things I care about ; it comes into my 
 head sometimes, when you talk about other 
 fellows, that you feel a cut above us all, and 
 though it is true, it rather depresses one to 
 hear it.' 
 
 ^ What nonsense !' returned Gerda, with 
 one of her rare sunny smiles. ' I think you 
 ever so much better than I. What can 
 have put this in your head, you foolish fellow ? 
 Please ask Mr. Seymour down again, and
 
 IT SHALT. BE NOBODY' 115 
 
 you shall see how prettily Doris and I will 
 behave to him. Only you do look such a 
 giant beside him. Come, we must not keep 
 Grand and mother waiting. Put down those 
 skates ; they really look as bright as silver — 
 oh, they are mine! Thank you so much, 
 Gerard ; but I am afraid I shall not want to 
 skate again for a longr time.' 
 
 * Oh yes, you will : You are not going to 
 funk skating just because of that tumble 
 yesterday. I will take you on next time. I 
 am not going to let another man get the pull 
 of me. I shall not trust you out of my 
 sight ;' and with these words Gerard passed 
 his arm through hers, and led her into the 
 dining-room, where the rest of the family 
 were awaiting them.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A TROUBLESOME PATIENT. 
 
 * We are always the martyrs of our own faults.' 
 
 Carmen Sylva. 
 
 Gerda received an unusual amount of atten- 
 tion during luncheon, which she appropriated 
 with outward meekness and inward com- 
 punction ; the consciousness of secret revolt 
 made her unwilling to accept overmuch 
 kindness. She was accustomed to a great 
 deal of petting from her mother. Mrs. Mere- 
 dith was prodigal of caresses and soft speeches 
 to the objects of her affection. She was a 
 woman who demanded perpetual assurance 
 and sympathy, and it never entered her head 
 that other and more reticent natures might 
 be willing to dispense with much outward 
 observance. Doris never wounded her with 
 a repulse, but at times she was heard to
 
 A TROUBLESOME PATIENT ii; 
 
 lament somewhat mournfully over Gerda's 
 indifference. 
 
 ' It's only her manner,' Doris would say, 
 for she always fired up in her sister's defence. 
 ' People misunderstand Gerda because she is 
 so very quiet, and says so little ; but she is 
 really affectionate.' 
 
 If Mrs. Meredith were prone to overmuch 
 softness and indulgence, Sir Godfrey erred 
 in the opposite direction. He had been 
 brought up in the good old school, as he 
 called it, and held the opinion that an occa- 
 sional snubbing was wholesome for young 
 people ; so he seldom praised. In reality, he 
 was both fond and proud of his young grand- 
 daughters, and thought no girls were to be 
 compared to them ; but he rarely permitted 
 himself to indulge in any expression of 
 endearment. They were good girls — he had 
 not a word to say against them ; but even 
 young women were the better for a strong 
 hand over them, and he thanked Heaven 
 that he had too much good sense to spoil 
 them, as that foolish mother of theirs was 
 bent on doing. 
 
 Both the girls loved their grandfather, in 
 spite of his strictness and arbitrary ways. They
 
 ii8 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 were clear-sighted enough to see through the 
 irritating film of perpetual fault-finding, and 
 to read the old man's heart aright. 
 
 ' Grand ought to have been a Pharisee, 
 with his everlasting mint and cumin of con- 
 tinual small observances,' Gerda once re- 
 marked scornfully. 'He is a stickler for the 
 minor morals. Don't open your eyes, Gerard ! 
 Of course you do not know what I mean. 
 Did you not once tell me you hated parables 
 out of the Bible — I mean not in it ? — oh, 
 don't laugh ! Everyone makes a mistake 
 sometimes. You know you are not quick at 
 grasping an idea.' 
 
 ' Because I like plain English, that is no 
 reason for calling me an idiot/ retorted 
 Gerard, with a pretended growl — but all the 
 same he suppressed a sigh. Gerda was too 
 clever for him, he thought. He was not 
 more stupid than other fellows ; he knew a 
 lot more on certain subjects than she did — 
 how to make the most killing sort of flies, for 
 example, or to play cricket or golf — but in 
 talking she had the pull of him. Some of 
 her speeches went over his head. And then 
 he comforted himself with the assurance that 
 when he was a married man he need stand
 
 A TROUBLESOME PATIENT 119 
 
 no nonsense from his wife. * I shall have to 
 tell her to shut up sometimes, when she bores 
 me too much with her books ; but I dare say 
 she will find other things to interest her 
 then ;' and Gerard's cheek glowed a little, 
 for he was beginning to regard Sir Godfrey's 
 scheme with a great deal of pleasure ; in 
 spite of her nonsense, he had not seen a girl 
 who could hold a candle to her. 
 
 But in spite of Sir Godfrey's strictness, 
 there were times when he would relax, and 
 make himself exceedingly pleasant to his 
 womankind. On the present occasion he 
 was in an unusually genial mood. Perhaps 
 the sight of Gerard and his cousin coming 
 into the room in that free-and-easy fashion 
 pleased him, and put him in a good humour. 
 
 ' I do not see why we should not do it/ he 
 observed mysteriously, as Gerda kissed him. 
 * The girls ought to have a treat sometimes ;' 
 and then Doris clapped her hands, and she 
 and her mother exchanged glances. ' I'll 
 think over it, and let you know later on,' he 
 continued, still more oracularly ; for it was a 
 principle with Sir Godfrey never to decide 
 on any domestic arrangement without due 
 reflection ; it somehow added to his import-
 
 I20 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 ance to take time for deliberation, and to 
 keep people in suspense, waiting for his 
 decision. 
 
 Gerda lifted her eyebrows slightly as she 
 took her place. She knew what had been 
 tlie subject of their conversation. All the 
 houses round were full of guests ; it was 
 rather a gay time at Chesterton, and an 
 evening or two before Gerard had had the 
 audacity to propose a dance at the Hall. 
 'Just a small affair, Uncle Godfrey,' he re- 
 marked coolly — * small and early, you know 
 — a sort of Cinderella affair. It would be no 
 trouble at all — the girls and I would manage 
 everything ; so don't look so alarmed, Cousin 
 Honoria. Why, we could not muster more 
 than thirty people in these benighted parts ; 
 but I would have Seymour and Gilbertson 
 and two or three other fellows down, and put 
 them up somehow.' 
 
 ' Oh, Gerard, what a delightful idea !' ex- 
 claimed both Gerda and Doris at once. 
 
 But Sir Godfrey had received the proposi- 
 tion rather coldly. 
 
 * I am not quite sure that I like the notion,' 
 he had replied slowly. ^ You are wrong, 
 Gerard. It wdll involve your cousin Honoria
 
 A TROUBLESOME PATIENT 121 
 
 in a great deal of trouble — a great deal of 
 trouble — but you young folk never think of 
 that. I can't let the children run away with 
 the idea that it is a setded thing' — Sir Godfrey 
 generally spoke of his grand-daughters as the 
 'children'; ' I will think over it and let you 
 know, Gerard.' 
 
 And that night they had ventured to say 
 no more. But ic was evident to Gerda that 
 the subject had been resumed, and Gerard 
 was of the same opinion, for he gave Doris a 
 knowing look as he unfolded his napkin. 
 But, to the aggravation of the three young 
 people, Sir Godfrey's thoughts were diverted 
 at this moment by the excellence of some 
 favourite dish that had just been placed be- 
 fore him, and the next moment his attention 
 was attracted by Gerda's paleness. 
 
 ' Well, my princess,' he said — for this was 
 his name for her when he was in a special 
 good humour — ' I am afraid you are none the 
 better for your ice-bath yesterday. — She looks 
 palish, Honoria ; give her a glass of wine, 
 Gerard. — Yes, you must drink it, my dear, 
 it will do you good. By the way, Lyall 
 was here just now, and left his respects for 
 you.'
 
 122 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 ' Dr. Lyall !' Gerda changed colour a little 
 as she bent over her plate. 
 
 'Yes, dear,' observed Mrs. Meredith, for 
 Sir Godfrey's attention was diverted again for 
 a moment. ' I found him in the library with 
 your grandfather when I came down from 
 your room. He came to inquire after you, 
 and to bring a message from Mrs. Hake. 
 He seemed glad to hear that you were rest- 
 ing. " That is very sensible of her," he said 
 at once, and he hoped you would not venture 
 out to-day, as the wind was very cold. I 
 must say I think it was very polite of him to 
 call, but he said he could do no less after our 
 hospitality yesterday.' 
 
 ' It was very kind,' murmured Gerda. 
 
 ' He seems a very pleasant, gentlemanly 
 man. Your grandfather thinks we ought to 
 ask him to dinner.' 
 
 But here Sir Godfrey interfered in his 
 pompous way : 
 
 ' I said I would think about it, Honoria ; 
 but that is no reason for you to speak of it as 
 a settled thing ; and if we carry out Gerard's 
 absurd plan, another dinner will be out of 
 the question — but there, I have not made up 
 my mind. Gerda, I insist on your finishing
 
 A TROUBLESOME PATIENT 123 
 
 that wine ; it will put some colour into your 
 cheeks.' 
 
 ' Dr. Lyall stayed such a long time/ 
 went on Mrs. Meredith hurriedly, with a 
 nervous conviction that she had made a slip. 
 ' You had quite a discussion — had you not, 
 father ?' 
 
 ' Well, well, perhaps we had ; and I think 
 I taught him a thing or two. He is certainly 
 a well-bred man, and has plenty of brains. I 
 am afraid it is uphill work with him in his 
 profession — at least, he said as much : did he 
 not, Honoria ? He is only a junior partner, 
 and of course he has to make his connection. 
 I wonder now why he was so confidential 
 about himself, for he seems a reserved sort of 
 man — eh, Gerard ?' 
 
 * Decidedly so, I should say.' 
 
 'Oh, it was your fault, father,' interposed 
 Mrs. Meredith eagerly. ' Don't you recollect 
 saying that a doctor ought to be a married 
 man ? — and then Dr. Lyall laughed, and said 
 that it would never do for him to think of a 
 wife yet, as he was not rich enough to afford 
 such a luxury.' 
 
 'Ah, that was it, was it ? I am sure I have 
 forgotten I said any such thing. But of
 
 124 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 course I was right. Reynolds never had half 
 the practice he has now until he married ; 
 and I recollect now that I cited him as an 
 example.' 
 
 * Dr. Lyall took your remark in very good 
 part. Somehow I fancy he is not a marrying 
 man — I do not suppose he is more than three- 
 and-thirty — but there is rather the cut of the 
 old bachelor about him.' 
 
 ^ Pooh ! nonsense ! What rubbish you 
 women will talk !' returned Sir Godfrey 
 peevishly, for he had finished his luncheon 
 and was getting sleepy. ' I should not mind 
 laying an even bet with anyone that Dr. Lyall 
 will be a married man before two years are 
 out. — There, ring the bell, Gerard ; I want 
 Stephens to see to the library fire — it is sure 
 to be half out.' And at this decided hint the 
 family dispersed. 
 
 Mrs. Meredith bustled off to the library, to 
 see with her own eyes that the fire was in 
 good condition, and Sir Godfrey's easy-chair 
 put in its right position for the enjoyment of 
 his afternoon nap ; but the young people 
 lingered for a few moments round the hall 
 fire. 
 
 * Do you think Grand w^ill give in about
 
 A TROUBLESOME PATIENT 125 
 
 the dance ?' asked Doris anxiously, looking 
 into Gerard's face. 
 
 * Give in ! Why, it is a dead certainty. You 
 and Gerda may write your invitations if 
 you like.' 
 
 ' Why, we do not even know the day. We 
 could not do it — could we, Gerda ? There is 
 ever so much to settle beforehand.' 
 
 ' Then it will have to be settled before 
 twenty-four hours are over, as we must have 
 the dance before next Wednesday. Let me 
 see : to-day is Friday — we will fix Tuesday. 
 All ri^ht ! get the notes written, and I will 
 settle it with Uncle Godfrey this evening.' 
 
 ' Oh, Gerard, will you really !' and Doris 
 looked at him with admiring gratitude. When 
 Gerard said he would settle a thing, the thing 
 was as good as done. 
 
 ' Yes, of course I will ; and now just hurry 
 up, there's a good child, or we shall lose the 
 best part of the afternoon ;' and, as Doris 
 ran off obediently, for she was docile, and a 
 word from Gerard was enough for her, he 
 continued : ' What are you going to do with 
 yourself, Gerda ? Shall I wheel up the big 
 couch for you to take a nap? — for you don't 
 look very fit, you know.'
 
 126 SIR GODFRETS GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 * No, thank yon,' she returned languidly ; 
 * I could not possibly sleep to order ; per- 
 haps I shall come out presently and criticise 
 your skating.' 
 
 ' You must do nothing of the kind,' he 
 returned decidedly ; ' but, of course, you are 
 not serious.' And, as Gerda made no re- 
 sponse to this, he gave her a nod and a 
 smile, and went off in search of Doris and 
 his skates. 
 
 Gerda hardly knew if she were serious 
 or not, but she was in a strange, unsettled 
 frame of mind. The big couch that Gerard 
 had suggested offered her no allurements, 
 and in spite of the bleak, wintry air outside, 
 and the gray sunless atmosphere, she had 
 a restless desire to be out — a morbid fancy 
 to see the spot where she had suffered such 
 deadly terror and peril overmastered her 
 common-sense. 
 
 " If I look at it again it will not haunt 
 me to-night,' she thought, with swift, illogical 
 reasoning ; and, as usual with Gerda, im- 
 pulse carried the day. Her mother, Gerard, 
 and Dr. Lyall would all think her extremely 
 foolish, but from certain points of view rash- 
 ness seems the wisest course ; it was worth
 
 A TROUBLESOME PATIENT 127 
 
 while undergoing some risk to secure an easy 
 night. 
 
 Gerda did not at once carry out her in- 
 tention. She waited until her mother had 
 betaken herself to the morning- room to 
 write letters ; then she slipped upstairs and 
 wrapped herself up warmly, and went round 
 to the stable-yard in search of her usual 
 walking companion — a large white fox- 
 terrier, with a black patch over one eye, 
 who was Gerda's special property. No one 
 was disposed to dispute her rights. Waif 
 was by no means a prepossessing animal, and 
 there were plenty of pets at the Hall. Mrs. 
 Meredith had a pug, and Doris a small gray 
 Skye, while Gerard was the owner of a St. 
 Bernard and two knowing little fox-terriers, 
 both of perfect breed and beauty. 
 
 Waif was a mongrel ; he had begun life 
 on a very humble scale, and past troubles 
 and semi-starvation had given him a gaunt, 
 veteran look. Gerda had seen him once or 
 twice slinking with dejected tail at the heels 
 of his master, a drunken tinker with a 
 heavy hand and an Irritable temper, and 
 had been struck by the pathetic look of 
 misery on the dog's face ; perhaps the black
 
 128 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 patch added to this impression, and the dis- 
 tinct form of the ribs under the rough white 
 coat. The third time she saw him Waif 
 had hurt his foot ; he had cut himself with 
 a piece of broken glass, and sat under a 
 hedge whining dismally, while his master 
 cursed him from afar as he mended a kettle. 
 Gerda's soft heart was full of pity for the 
 poor animal, and in her impulsive way she 
 stepped up to the tinker and offered him 
 half a crown for the dog. 
 
 ' You shall have him for five shillings,' 
 was the surly response ; and Gerda took out 
 her purse and paid him on the spot. 
 
 ' Will he follow me, do you think ?' she 
 asked timidly. 
 
 ' I think he will/ was Joe Atkinson's 
 answer, as, with a favourite oath, he took up 
 a stone, at the sight of which Waif put his 
 tail between his legs, and ran away as fast 
 as his wounded foot allowed him. 
 
 Gerda started off in pursuit ; the man's 
 fiendish cruelty made her feel sick. 
 
 ' Here, poor fellow !' she exclaimed, hold- 
 ing out her hand, as she reached him, pant- 
 ing slightly. ' No one shall hurt you. Come 
 home with me ; you are my dog now.'
 
 A TROUBLESOME PATIENT 129 
 
 It may be doubted whether Waif under- 
 stood this speech, but there was one thing 
 plain to his canine sagacity — that this young 
 lady meant to deal kindly by him. He stood 
 regarding her mournfully for a moment ; such 
 blandishments were new to his experience. 
 Then his tail wagged feebly, and he suffered 
 her to approach him and pat his rough coat ; 
 finally, he responded to her call and limped 
 after her. Once or twice he looked back, 
 as his conscience accused him of infidelity 
 to his hard master; but each time the 
 tinker's hand was uplifted, and when a flint 
 stone skimmed along the path in unpleas- 
 ant proximity to his hind-legs. Waif made 
 up his mind that he had received his dis- 
 charge, and was free to enter into another 
 service. 
 
 Gerda conveyed him to the stable-yard, 
 and, summoning the groom to her assistance, 
 bathed the wounded foot, and provided the 
 first sufficient meal that Waif had ever 
 enjoyed since his mother left him to the 
 mercies of a cruel world. 
 
 * He is a young dog, and when I have 
 brushed him up a bit he will look a sight 
 better,' remarked Felton ; * but he isn't the 
 
 VOL. I. 9
 
 I30 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 sort of a dog for a lady. Perhaps one of 
 us could find him a home.' 
 
 Waif was in the delicious enjoyment of a 
 bone at that moment, which he was gnawing 
 as only a hungry dog could gnaw ; but, as 
 Felton made this sensible speech, he dropped 
 the bone, and looked up in Gerda's face with 
 mute reproach. 
 
 * No, no ; I mean to keep him,' she replied 
 hurriedly, in response to this mute appeal ; 
 and then, as Waif wagged his tail and re- 
 turned to his bone, she went on : ' He is 
 not handsome, of course, but he looks clever. 
 I am sure, Felton, he understands what we 
 say ; please take care of him, and do not let 
 the other dogs worry him, and I will come 
 and see him again.' 
 
 From that day Waif was her devoted 
 slave. Gerda never repented her bargain 
 with the tinker, and she bore with calm 
 philosophy the unfavourable criticisms on her 
 favourite. *Waif cares nothing about his 
 looks, neither do I,' she would say. ' He 
 is as good as gold, and he seems to under- 
 stand everything I say to him.' Gerda 
 would willingly have had him as an inmate 
 of the Hall, and she pleaded piteously with
 
 A TROUBLESOME PATIENT 
 
 her grandfather and Gerard to be allowed 
 to bring him in, but neither of them would 
 listen to her. 
 
 * Two dogs are enough in a house,' the 
 latter assured her. ' Waif is much better 
 where he is ; Felton will look after him, and 
 you can take him for walks.' 
 
 ' If I ever have a house of my own, I will 
 take care that Waif has a warm corner in it,' 
 Gerda was provoked to answer, and she 
 wondered why Gerard laughed and shrugged 
 his shoulders. 
 
 ' That depends on the master,' he said to 
 himself as he went off. 
 
 Waif had been in his present comfortable 
 quarters for six months now, and though he 
 was still somewhat gaunt, his condition had 
 wonderfully improved, and his coat was almost 
 as glossy as were those of the two terriers, 
 Castor and Pollux. When he saw his mistress 
 enter the yard he uttered a delighted bark and 
 rushed to meet her, and Gerda found it diffi- 
 cult to prevent him from nearly upsetting her 
 with his rough gambols. 
 
 And so it was that, somewhat later in the 
 afternoon, Dr. Lyall, who had detached him- 
 self from the rest of the skaters to practise
 
 132 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 the outside edge in comfort, became aware of 
 a tall gray figure standing at the far end of 
 the lake, with a white dog^ sitting on his 
 haunches beside her. He had keen eyes, and 
 what he saw made him hastily retire and take 
 off his skates, and ten minutes later a quiet 
 and slightly sarcastic voice said in her ear : 
 
 * Do you always take such good care of 
 yourself, Miss Meredith ?' 
 
 Gerda started, and turned round. Her eyes 
 had a dazed, uncertain look in them. Their 
 expression made Dr. Lyall's next speech 
 more than usually brusque. 
 
 * Do you think it prudent to stand in this 
 north-east wind for a quarter of an hour at a 
 time ?' he continued. ' I am afraid you have 
 small regard for your health. Why, you look 
 half frozen. Please come back with me at 
 once to the Hall. You are making yourself 
 quite ill.' 
 
 Dr. Lyall's tone of displeased remonstrance 
 roused Gerda effectually, and she quietly 
 accompanied him. For the first two or three 
 minutes neither of them spoke. 
 
 Dr. Lyall, who was a plain, practical man, 
 felt himself annoyed by the girl's perversity. 
 He had recommended warmth and rest, and
 
 A TROUBLESOME PATIENT 133 
 
 instead of taking his advice she was standing, 
 looking as pale as death, by the lake-side, 
 and when he had spoken to her she had 
 seemed half dazed. He felt inclined to take 
 no further trouble about her. Evidently she 
 was one of those morbid, hysterical girls 
 whose selfwill is stronger than their com- 
 mon-sense. Of course, he had no right to be 
 angry ; but as a medical man 
 
 But here his reflections were interrupted by 
 a soft, unsteady laugh. 
 
 ' Dr. Lyall, you have only known me for 
 four-and-twenty hours, and this is the second 
 time you have found me doing a foolish thing.' 
 
 ' I fear that I must endorse that statement, 
 Miss Meredith,' he replied shortly. ' I am 
 a plain man, and I think it best to tell the 
 truth. You are certainly acting very un- 
 wisely ; you might take a serious chill.' 
 
 * I don't think I shall ; but I am very cold.' 
 And, indeed, her teeth were chattering as she 
 spoke. * Of course I deserve what I get, but 
 I should hate to be ill, all the same. Doris 
 and I are never ill. Dr. Lyall,' laughing 
 timidly up into his grave face, * please don't 
 think me more foolish than you can help. I 
 want to tell you something. I came out just
 
 134 SIR GODFRETS GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 to look at the place where I went in yesterday. 
 I thought if I saw it again it would not haunt 
 me. It was in my dreams last night, and I 
 
 thought ' Here she paused with a wistful 
 
 air, as though she wanted him to understand 
 her. 
 
 * Was it necessary to brave the bleak wind 
 for a morbid idea ?' he asked. But his tone 
 had grown more gentle. This childlike con- 
 fession disarmed him. 
 
 * It was necessary for my peace of mind,' 
 she returned quietly. ' I must always face a 
 thinof at once. It is difficult for a man to 
 understand. We women are such cowards — 
 our imaginations are too much for us. When 
 I was a child I was always like that ; however 
 frightened I was, I could not run away from 
 my bogie. I remember once waking up and 
 seeing a dark shape in my room. It looked 
 like an old man in a long cloak. I was sick 
 with terror. In my place any other child 
 would have hidden her head under the bed- 
 clothes ; but I sprang out of bed at once and 
 made for the thing. Of course it was only an 
 effect of moonlight on the curtain, so I was 
 rewarded for my effort, and could go to sleep 
 happily.'
 
 A TROUBLESOME PATIENT 135 
 
 * You must have been an extremely plucky 
 little girl/ 
 
 ' Not at all,' very decidedly. ' It was sheer 
 cowardice. I wanted to know the worst ; 
 but I was horribly frightened all the time.' 
 
 ' I maintain the contrary. Miss Meredith. 
 Do you know a brave soldier will own to fear 
 in his first battle ? I remember a man telling 
 me — and he was one of the pluckiest fellows 
 I ever knew — that as he and his detachment 
 were drawn up waiting for the enemy's charge, 
 his only dominant feeling was fear. " I funked 
 the whole thing," was his expression ; '' it was 
 one of the most unpleasant moments of my 
 life." But when the enemy was on them, and 
 they had their orders to fire, he had no fear. 
 I am afraid I shall shock you when I tell you 
 that my friend owned that he experienced 
 a sort of mad joy and excitement. '^ It was 
 splendid while it lasted, but it was over in no 
 time. Our fellows drove the rascals back in 
 five minutes." That is how he summed it 
 up. You see, man is a fighting animal. Miss 
 Meredith.' 
 
 ' It seems so,' was her quiet reply. And 
 then, to her relief, they reached the Hall, 
 and as Dr. Lyall placed a chair for her beside
 
 136 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 the blazing fire, she sank into it with a sigh 
 of relief. 
 
 * I did not know how cold I was,' she 
 murmured, as she stretched out her hands to 
 the pleasant warmth. 
 
 Rogers was arranging the tea-table as they 
 entered, for a large party from the lake was 
 expected. Dr. Lyall coolly helped himself to 
 a cup of tea, and brought it to Gerda. 
 
 ^ You had better drink that,' he said rather 
 authoritatively, for there was a blue tint round 
 the girl's lips that made him uneasy. She 
 took it with a smile, and the next moment 
 they could hear voices and footsteps ap- 
 proaching up the avenue.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 WON BY THE jNIAJORITY. 
 
 ' What is the use of a fine collar if it strangles you ?' 
 
 Proverb of Montenegro, 
 
 A MINUTE later there was a rush of cold air, 
 the clatter of high-heeled boots on the polished 
 oak floor, and the old hall was filled with a 
 bevy of bright young faces, while their 
 chaperons, Captain and Mrs. Hake, followed 
 more leisurely, with a tall, slim young man 
 in clerical dress, with a round, boyish face 
 and closely-cropped fair head, who was no 
 other than the new curate — Rev. Bertram 
 Allingham. In a moment Gerda was sur- 
 rounded, and there was a chorus of mingled 
 exclamations, congratulations, and ejaculations 
 of sympathy and horror, which was proof 
 enough to Dr. Lyall that Miss Meredith was 
 a favourite with her young companions.
 
 138 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 * I am so sorry, Gerda dear. Mamma 
 and I have hardly slept a wink thinking of 
 the danger you escaped/ 
 
 * Why, how did you hear of it, Robina ?' 
 
 ' Oh, Andrews, our odd man, picked it up 
 from your groom, and he told Marvel. You 
 can imagine our feelings ! I wanted papa to 
 go off then and there to the Hall ; but he 
 had his slippers on, and was too lazy. He 
 said you must be all right, or we should 
 have heard ; but I could not sleep for ever 
 so long ;' and here Robina, a pretty little 
 brunette, stole a look at Dr. Lyall from 
 under her dark lashes. 
 
 * Dear Gerda, I am so thankful !' whispered 
 a tall girl who had not hitherto spoken. This 
 was Frances Hilton, the Vicar's daughter, 
 and report said that she and the boyish-faced 
 young curate were on the eve of an engage- 
 ment. She was a quiet, gentle-looking girl, 
 and as she spoke her eyes were full of tears. 
 
 ' My congratulations were all given last 
 night/ exclaimed Mrs. Hake in her loud, 
 cheerful voice, as she pressed through the 
 group of girls. ' Somebody told me that you 
 had been seen flitting round the lake like a 
 gray ghost, and as you have your hat on, I
 
 WON BY THE MAJORITY 139 
 
 am afraid it is true. You look shockingly, 
 Gerda — but I expect it is all your fault. I 
 would not be in your mother's shoes for any- 
 thing ; I am sure you girls lead her a life. — 
 Is that cup of tea for me, Mr. Allingham ? 
 No — no sugar, thank you. I am getting too 
 stout, my husband says, and sugar is so 
 fattening. — Now, Doris, what is this that a 
 little bird has just told me about a Cinderella 
 dance at the Hall ? Well, if you must know, 
 Mr. Hamlyn gave me a hint of it.' 
 
 * It was in strict confidence, Mrs. Hake,' 
 observed Gerard; who had overheard this, 
 and was passing with a plate of cake. ' Don't 
 let Cousin Honoria hear you.' 
 
 ' She has heard us already — she is shaking 
 her head at us. Look, girls, I have a grand 
 idea ! Let us all go and beard Sir Godfrey 
 in his library. He will not be able to resist 
 us. I will make a speech, and you shall all 
 back me up. Come, Edith, Constance, 
 Doris, Robina — Gerda, you have an invalid's 
 privilege, but we will not dispense with 
 Frances — Mr. Allingham, if you can spare 
 Miss Hilton!' — and Frances rose at once 
 with a blush. ' Pamela, why are you keeping 
 your seat ?'
 
 I40 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 But that vivacious young lady shook her 
 head. 
 
 * I am not coming, Gertrude, thank you. 
 I want the dance as badly as any of you, 
 but I know my place as a stranger. Alick 
 agrees with me — don't you, Alick ? The 
 deputation will be complete without me.' 
 
 Dr. Lyall nodded. The little scene amused 
 him, and he was glad to see that Gerda had 
 thrown off her lassitude, and looked pleased 
 and interested. As Mrs. Hake swept the 
 chattering, laughing girls before her out of 
 the room, he left his place and joined the 
 three gentlemen at the tea-table. To his 
 surprise, they were quietly and seriously 
 discussing the dance. 
 
 ' I shall have to look on, you know ; you 
 must not count on me,' observed Mr. Ailing- 
 ham, in a regretful tone. ' The Vicar does 
 not approve of his curates dancing.' 
 
 * Nonsense, my dear fellow ! A small affair 
 like this : half a dozen couples — well, a dozen, 
 then,' as the curate looked mildly surprised 
 at this reckoning. * Besides, we will not split 
 on you.' 
 
 And then Captain Hake took up the 
 argument.
 
 WON BY THE MAJORITY 141 
 
 * Dancing is the finest exercise in the 
 world, after tennis and that sort of thing. 
 All the medical faculty recommend it — eh, 
 Lyall ?' — with a playful poke in the ribs. 
 ' You should not be so strait-laced, Ailing- 
 ham. We look for liberality and breadth of 
 opinion from a Merton man. It would not 
 be pleasant to your feelings to see Miss 
 Augusta or Miss Frances sitting in the 
 corner for want of a partner. Come, now, 
 there's an appeal to your chivalry !' and 
 Bertram Allingham confessed that, under 
 those circumstances, he might be inclined to 
 hesitate. 
 
 Meanwhile, Pamela had drawn her chair 
 to the edge of the big bearskin rug, and 
 had plunged into a conversation in her usual 
 abrupt fashion. She was looking very pretty, 
 Gerda thought ; the dark ruby dress and 
 hat exactly suited her dark complexion, and 
 the exercise had brightened her eyes and 
 heightened her colour. 
 
 ' I saw you down by the lake an hour ago, 
 Miss Meredith, and I was not a bit surprised 
 when Alick took off his skates to go to you. 
 He would disapprove of the whole thing — 
 sentiment and all. He ordered you home at
 
 142 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 once, did he not ? That was Alick all 
 over.' 
 
 * He certainly told me that it was unwise 
 to stand still so long — the wind was so dread- 
 fully cold. I am afraid he thought me very 
 silly.' 
 
 ' Of course he did. Alick thinks most 
 women are born without common-sense ; he 
 has not a grain of sympathy for what he calls 
 false sentiment. But you and I think dif- 
 ferently. In your place I should have done 
 just the same ; it is not every day that one 
 lives through such a moment as that. It 
 must be delicious to go through it all again — 
 on the same spot, too.' 
 
 Gerda stared at her. Was the girl serious, 
 or was she secretly making fun of her ? She 
 did not quite like Pamela's tone — it was 
 rather too sarcastic. 
 
 ' You quite misunderstand my motives,' she 
 began rather stiffly. 
 
 But Pamela checked her with a light 
 laugh : 
 
 * My dear Miss Meredith, I should never 
 misunderstand you. I grasped the whole 
 situation last night. We are alike in one
 
 WON BY THE MAJORITY 143 
 
 thing, we are both intense ; you are always 
 so terribly in earnest, are you not ?' 
 
 ^ Not more than other people.' 
 
 ' Oh dear yes ! How can you make such 
 a mistake ! Now, I am only earnest by fits 
 and starts, but we are both intense, for all 
 that. I could prove it to you in ten minutes, 
 but I won't, for fear of boring you. A lick is 
 not a bit intense ; he is matter-of-fact and 
 practical — that is why we quarrel sometimes.' 
 
 ' I hope you are not serious !' 
 
 ' I am perfectly so, I assure you. Alick is 
 terribly damping sometimes ; I get hobbies, 
 and then he tries to crush me with some 
 common-sense remark, as he calls it ; then I 
 flare up, and then, sometimes, I won't speak 
 to him for the rest of the day.' 
 
 ' I am inclined to pity Dr. Lyall.' 
 
 * I expected you to say that. Hester pities 
 him, too ; she always takes his part.' 
 
 * May I ask who Hester may be T 
 'Well, as you ask so very prettily, I don't 
 
 mind telling you. Hester is my sister ; she 
 is older than I. A good many years ago she 
 made an unfortunate marriage — at least, Alick 
 says so — but I own I am very fond of my 
 brother-in-law ; he is a cousin of Mr. Vincent's
 
 144 SIR GODFRETS GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 — my fiaiicd, I mean,' as Gerda looked at her 
 in a questioning manner. ' I suppose Ger- 
 trude told you I am engaged ; she tells every- 
 body. I never knew a woman who advocates 
 matrimony so strongly ; but I am not quite 
 sure that I agree with her.' 
 
 ' I thought you just told me you were 
 engaged,' returned Gerda, rather bewildered 
 by this last remark. 
 
 * So I am, and so I have been for the last 
 three years ; but I am just as likely to remain 
 Pamela Lyall to the end of the chapter. I 
 dare say you think my speech a little enigma- 
 tical ; but, in this vexatious world, money is 
 a great power — and, unfortunately, neither the 
 Vincents nor the Lyalls have much of it. Un- 
 happily, there is this difference between the 
 cousins : Derrick would work hard if he 
 could only get work to do, but he has not 
 had a single brief yet ; and Julius, my brother- 
 in-law, hates work, and does as little as he 
 possibly can.' 
 
 * Is your brother-in-law a lawyer, too .'*' 
 'No, he is an artist — and not a very good 
 
 artist, either ; at least, people will not buy his 
 pictures. Alick says he does not take pains 
 to find out what will please the public taste.
 
 WON BY THE MAJORITY 145 
 
 He just works in a groove ; now and then he 
 wakes up and paints a pot-boiler, as Hester 
 calls it.' 
 
 * It sounds rather serious ; it is to be hoped 
 they have no children/ 
 
 * My dear Miss Meredith, you have a 
 great deal to learn yet. Your question 
 proves ignorance of the world ; poor people 
 always have children — have you never re- 
 marked that ? They have two boys and 
 a girl — the girl is a cripple, I am sorry to 
 say.' 
 
 ' You must be very sorry for your sister ?' 
 ' So I am — and I am sorry for Julius, too, 
 he's such a good-looking fellow ; and I do 
 not believe that it is his fault as much as 
 people say. There must be something defec- 
 tive in his moral nature. I am aware that I 
 am playing the casuist, and that my remark 
 touches on one of those nice and puzzling 
 questions in what Alick terms the science of 
 ethics ; but I hold the opinion that certain 
 human beings, my brother-in-law among them, 
 are less accountable, or I should say more 
 irresponsible, than other people. As long as 
 Julius lives he will never be a full-grown 
 man.' 
 
 VOL. I. 10
 
 146 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 ^ Is it not a pity that your sister married 
 him ?' 
 
 ' My dear creature ! Hester fulfilled her 
 destiny, as you and I will fulfil ours. The 
 Parcae, commonly known as the Fates, do 
 most of the spinning of the human web. If 
 Hester had not married Julius, she would not 
 have been Hester. That is how I put it.' 
 
 'You seem to be a fatalist.' 
 
 • I hardly know what I am. I am a poor 
 little girl who wants to know everything — and 
 knows nothing. Hush ! I hear voices — what 
 a procession !' and Pamela broke off her odd 
 disjointed talk and began to laugh as Sir 
 Godfrey entered the hall, with Mrs. Hake on 
 his arm and Robina Stewart leading him by 
 the hand, the other girls following him. 
 
 * Won by the majority, I see,' said Cap- 
 tain Hake, rubbing his hands. 
 
 ' I gave in at once,' returned Sir Godfre3^ 
 with an old - fashioned bow to the com- 
 pany; 'when youth, beauty, and eloquence 
 combine to make a fool of an old man,' and 
 here there was a twinkle in his eye, * there is 
 no resistance possible.' 
 
 ' Of course not. We " came, saw, and con- 
 quered " — did we not, Sir Godfrey ?' cried
 
 WON BY THE MAJORITY 147 
 
 Robina roguishly, for she was an old favourite, 
 and had often beof^ed favours for Gerda and 
 Doris when they were little girls, and she was 
 used to making saucy little speeches. * It is 
 all right, Gerda. There is to be a Cinderella 
 dance, and the day is to be fixed before we 
 go. Sir Godfrey has behaved like an angel.' 
 
 * Sir Godfrey is going to open the ball with 
 me, Lionel,' and Mrs. Hake looked at her 
 husband. * Now, Mr. Hamlyn, as it is an 
 open secret, we will resolve ourselves into a 
 committee of ways and means — we are all 
 friends here. Pamela, my dear, you may go 
 away — no one wants you. Mrs. Meredith, 
 your father has bespoken my help ; he wishes 
 me to advise ) ou on one or two points, espe- 
 cially ' Here Mrs. Hake lowered her 
 
 voice as she seated herself beside Mrs. Mere- 
 dith, and Gerda, in her distant corner, heard 
 no more. 
 
 ' Are you fond of dancing, Miss Meredith ?' 
 asked Dr. Lyall, coming up to her at this 
 moment. 
 
 * Oh yes ; all girls like dancing — and most 
 men too : my cousin Gerard is devoted to it. 
 I hope you like it too ?' 
 
 ' Well, no — not especially, I mean ' — as
 
 148 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Gerda looked a little disappointed. ' I don't 
 mind looking on — a dance is always a pretty- 
 sight — but I should be wrong if I called 
 myself a dancing man.' 
 
 ' Then I am afraid you will be bored.' 
 
 ' Oh no !' and Dr. Lyall's smile was a 
 pleasant one ; ' I am seldom bored, and I 
 dare say I shall do my duty like a man. 
 Are we to dance in this fine old hall on 
 Wednesday night ?' 
 
 And as Gerda nodded, Gerard came up to 
 them with a very bright face. 
 
 ' It is all settled, Gerda. Uncle Godfrey 
 is like wax in Mrs. Hake's hands. She has 
 got leave to bring all her nieces — even the 
 red-haired Miss Nancy, whom Uncle God- 
 frey abhors ; and I am to fill all the spare 
 rooms with my special chums. I'll write to 
 Seymour and Gilbertson and Drury at once.' 
 
 ' I am so glad, Gerard ! Doris will be 
 so pleased — and it will be her first dance, 
 too.' 
 
 ' So it will !' — with evident surprise. ' I 
 never thought of that. In that case you 
 won't mind my asking her for the first 
 dance. I should like to pay her that little 
 attention, she is such a dear little soul.
 
 WON BY THE MAJORITY 149 
 
 Mind you keep three valses for me — three ! 
 — I wiH not let you off with less.' 
 
 Gerard's tone was a trifle dictatorial, and 
 he enforced his speech with a look that 
 made Gerda turn to Dr. Lyall hastily and 
 say : 
 
 * I suppose you can waltz ?' 
 
 ' Well, I can get round the room somehow ; 
 but I do not suppose my partner is particu- 
 larly happy. Ah, I see Mrs. Hake is about 
 to take her leave, so I may as well say 
 good-bye ; but I wish you would promise 
 one thing before I go ;' and as Gerda looked 
 up at him with a soft, questioning smile ; ' that 
 you will take more care of yourself, and not 
 go near the lake to-morrow ;' and as she 
 assented to this he dropped her hand a little 
 hurriedly. 
 
 ' Good-bye,' exclaimed Pamela, with a 
 friendly look. ' We were interrupted in our 
 nice talk, and must finish it another time. 
 Are you waiting for me, Alick ? Very well, 
 I will come ;' and Pamela tripped after him 
 into the darkness outside. 
 
 ' I like that girl, after all,' she said, as she 
 took her brother's arm — a sisterly attention 
 with which he would willingly have dis-
 
 ISO SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 pensed, for he wanted a chat with his friend 
 Hake, and the offer of a cigarette from that 
 obh'ging person. ' I was not quite sure of 
 her last night ; I thought that she was just a 
 Httle bit affected ; but I have found out my 
 mistake. She is absolutely genuine.' 
 
 * Are you not a little premature in your 
 criticism ? You have only talked to Miss 
 Meredith for two consecutive half-hours, and 
 there you are, as usual, heaping a new- 
 acquaintance with every possible and im- 
 possible virtue.' 
 
 ' If you are going to be disagreeable and 
 sarcastic, Alick, I shall leave off talking. 
 Don't you know there are people whom you 
 seem to know thoroughly in an hour, while 
 there are other people with whom you do 
 not get intimate during a whole lifetime ? 
 This afternoon I discovered that Miss Mere- 
 dith and I were in touch — that we thought 
 alike on many points.' 
 
 ' I rather wonder at that,' returned her 
 brother ironically, for he did not believe this 
 statement in the least. As far as he could 
 judge during their very limited acquaint- 
 ance, he thought no two girls could be more 
 dissimilar than Pamela and Gerda Meredith.
 
 WON BY THE MAJORITY 151 
 
 ^ But she is terribly delicate,' went on 
 Pamela, disregarding the sneer in Alick's 
 tone. ' I should not like anyone in whom 1 
 was interested to take a fancy to her. He 
 would have a sickly wife.' 
 
 * Nonsense !' was the blunt reply. * She 
 only looks ill from the chill and fright. Many 
 people are naturally without much colour. I 
 expect Miss Meredith is as strong as most 
 women.' 
 
 ' Oh, do you think so ?' returned Pamela, 
 who never ventured to contradict her brother 
 on matters of health. Well, I am very glad 
 to hear it. Let me see, someone was telling 
 me last night — who could it be i^ — not Ger- 
 trude ; no, it was Miss Dalton : the younger 
 one, Augusta — yes, Augusta Dalton told me 
 that Sir Godfrey — what an old beau he is, 
 Alick ! — is bent on making up a match 
 between his nephew and Miss Meredith.' 
 
 Dr. Lyall gave a slight imperceptible start. 
 
 ' Did you slip, Alick ? Perhaps you have 
 got some ice under your heel. Dear, dear, 
 how tired I am ! and you walk so dreadfully 
 fast ! Do you want to overtake the others ?' 
 
 ' No ; it is only this beastly wind ;' for Dr. 
 Lyall was not in the best of tempers.
 
 152 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 * Oh, I do not mind it in the least ! Well, 
 I am sure, if Augusta Dalton be correct, Miss 
 Meredith is a lucky girl. Mr. Hamlyn is his 
 uncle's heir ; and then he is such a handsome 
 fellow, and so pleasant and good-natured! I 
 am sure he spent more than half an hour 
 trying to teach that stupid little Robina 
 Stewart the outside edge. What a little flirt 
 she is ! She was trying to fascinate him all 
 the time — and then he helped that plain 
 Miss Robins. He did not get a bit of fun 
 himself.' 
 
 Dr. Lyall did not answer. Perhaps the 
 subject did not interest him. Pamela always 
 chattered away, whether he listened to her 
 or not. What a gossip she was, to be sure ! 
 and he hated gossip. But later on that 
 evening he caught himself wondering if she 
 had spoken the truth. The story was a 
 probable one ; propinquity and convenience 
 had a great deal to do with many marriages. 
 
 * I suppose it is true,' he said to himself, 
 when he found himself alone. ' Not that it 
 matters to me whether it is so or not.' And 
 then he pulled off his boots and fell into a 
 reverie. 
 
 When the guests had departed, Gerda still
 
 WON BY THE MAJORITY 153 
 
 sat by the fire wrapped in her furs. She was 
 in a dreamy, quiescent mood. A sense of 
 warmth, rest, and well-being stole over her. 
 This was the hour she loved, only Rogers had 
 lighted the lamps and spoiled the twilight. 
 
 Sir Godfrey was in his high-backed chair, 
 with his pince-nez comfortably fixed on his 
 nose, and his paper in his hand ; but he was 
 not reading. Gerard had been teasing Doris, 
 a favourite employment with him, and now he 
 had persuaded her to practise the new valse 
 step with him, and Mrs. Meredith was play- 
 ing by ear in the dark drawing-room ; but, 
 though the pedal was down, only a few faint 
 sounds reached them. 
 
 * Never mind, I'll whistle the accompani- 
 ment, and you will be sure to keep time,' 
 observed Gerard, making light of this diffi- 
 culty. 
 
 Gerda watched the slowly revolving figures; 
 then she started as her grandfather touched 
 her. He regarded her benignly as he spoke. 
 
 ' Gerard and Doris seem excellent friends, 
 do they not ?' 
 
 ' Oh yes,' she answered cordially ; ' Gerard 
 is always so good to her, and she is very fond 
 of him. How well she dances ! but, then,
 
 154 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Gerard is such a nice partner. Does it not 
 seem strange, Grand, that this will be Doris's 
 first dance, and she is eighteen ?' 
 
 ^ Humph ! I do not see anything strange,' 
 in rather a ruffled tone, 'about that,' for this 
 was touching on a secretly sore point. ' Doris 
 is a mere child still, and I do not hold with 
 putting young girls forward. I told Hake 
 so when he spoke to me.' 
 
 * Did Captain Hake talk to you about 
 Doris ?' 
 
 ' It was not Doris specially, but he had the 
 impertinence to tell me once that he thought 
 it a great pity that I did not give my grand- 
 daughters the advantage of a London season. 
 As though my private affairs were any business 
 of his ! But Hake is always putting in his 
 oar about one thing or another. I believe 
 that clever wife of his is at the bottom of all 
 the mischief.' 
 
 ' But, Grand,' opening her eyes a little 
 widely, ' it would be such an expense, a 
 London season.' 
 
 * I suppose I could afford it if I chose,' in 
 a dignified voice ; * but I have no wish to see 
 you and Doris changed into fashionable young 
 women. Gerard and I talked it over once,
 
 WON BY THE MAJORITY 155 
 
 and to my surprise he agreed with me. He 
 owned it would be great fun, but that it would 
 spoil you for a country life. He said some 
 of the men were such asses, and that he 
 thought on the whole it would be a mistake 
 — that it would only make you both dis- 
 contented.' 
 
 ' I think it was ridiculous of Gerard to say 
 that. Doris and I ought to be presented ;* 
 and Gerda drew up her long neck and looked 
 at her grandfather a little defiantly. Now 
 and then she would give herself these little 
 airs with him, but for once he forbore to snub 
 her. 
 
 * Oh, that is your opinion, is it, my princess ?' 
 — still in high good humour — ' but I am afraid 
 you must wait for that until you are married. 
 Don't you think that it is high time you were 
 engaged, Gerda ?' in rather a meaning tone. 
 ' Why, you are one-and-twenty — your mother 
 was married long before that. You see, my 
 dear ' — in an affectionate tone — ' I am not a 
 rich man, and I am trying to improve the 
 property for Gerard. Gerard will be far 
 better off than I am. Nothing would please 
 rrie better than to see you and Doris well 
 married ; but of course it is your turn first.
 
 156 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Don't you think it about time to make up 
 your mind ? In that case I should not be 
 surprised if a house in town might not be 
 forthcoming for at least one season, and then 
 Doris could come out under your wing. Your 
 mother and I often talk of that. There are 
 the Hamlyn jewels, you know ; any bride 
 might be proud of them ' 
 
 But Gerda could bear no more. Sir Godfrey 
 had often dropped hints in her presence. 
 There had been a word here and a word 
 there that had pierced her consciousness, but 
 he had never spoken so plainly. What ! she 
 was to be bribed to marry Gerard ! A 
 house in town, Doris's advantage, the Hamlyn 
 diamonds, were to be offered to her as baits ! 
 Oh, what would Gerard say ? Would not his 
 simple manly honesty revolt at such bribes ? 
 She rose hurriedly. 
 
 ' Rogers is just going to sound the gong. 
 I must go now, please, or I shall not be ready 
 for dinner.' 
 
 Gerda did not wait for permission. She 
 fled past the two dancers upstairs and into 
 her own room. 
 
 ' Grandfather is too bad, too bad !' she said 
 to herself with girlish indignation. * He is
 
 WON BY THE MAJORITY 157 
 
 growing old — indeed, he is in his dotage. 
 Am I to be bought with a house in town ? 
 It is absurd — monstrous — inconceivable ! But 
 Gerard is no party to such a scheme. He 
 would hate all this talk as much as I do.' 
 
 And Gerda dressed herself disconsolately, 
 and there was a cloud on her young brow ; 
 the old difficulties had beset her again, and 
 robbed her of her peace.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ON thp: chilverton road. 
 
 'When in conversing with anyone you see that he is keep- 
 ing something back, it seems as though you were feehng for 
 his hands across a wall,' — Carmen Sylva. 
 
 The dance at the Hall was regarded as a 
 public event in Chesterton, and when, the 
 next day, the frost suddenly showed signs 
 of breaking up, there were fewer lamenta- 
 tions than usual on the part of the young 
 folk, for, as Doris remarked triumphantly, 
 it would not be quite useless now to send 
 invitations to Stanix Park and Blacklea, as 
 a five-mile drive would not be utterly im- 
 possible. 
 
 * Gerard says that he should not be sur- 
 prised if we get about sixteen couples,' she 
 observed to Gerda the following evening ; 
 ' and if we count the married people,
 
 ON THE CHILVERTON ROAD 159 
 
 we shall muster over forty ;' and Doris's 
 cheeks were pink with excitement as she 
 spoke. 
 
 Gerda laid down her book, and regarded 
 her sister with a sort of pitying amusement. 
 Was Doris only three years younger than 
 herself ? Could it be only three years since 
 her own eyes had brightened, and her heart 
 palpitated at the idea of her first dance ? 
 What a different affair that had been ! Six- 
 teen couples, indeed ! Why, it had been a 
 ball at Queen's Gate, and the room had 
 been full of officers. She remembered how 
 their spurs had torn the ladies' dresses ; 
 Bertie Longhurst, the heir of Stanix Park, 
 had just come of age, and his aunt, Lady 
 Paget, had celebrated the event by a ball. 
 It was the only glimpse of London gaiety 
 Gerda had ever had, and she recalled even 
 now the brief intoxication, the dreamy be- 
 wilderment, as her first partner, a young lieu- 
 tenant in the hussars, whirled her over the 
 polished floor to the delicious strains of one 
 of Strauss' valses. 
 
 ' Well, Gerda,' and Doris stamped her 
 foot in pretended impatience, * why are you 
 smiling in that disdainful way, instead of
 
 i6o SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 answering me ? 1 believe your wits are wool- 
 gathering again.' 
 
 ' I was reading the " Thoughts of a 
 Queen," ' returned Gerda calmly. She rather 
 loved to tease Doris by affecting a stoicism 
 she did not feel. Nothing provoked Doris 
 more than seeing Gerda put on elder-sisterly 
 airs. ' She was such a wise young queen, 
 Dorrie/ she continued, ' as wise as the Queen 
 of Sheba after she had heard the wisdom of 
 Solomon. Just listen to this racy little bit : 
 
 '"Imagination is a gay companion, who 
 frolics along the road and tells us tales. 
 Reality is an old woman, who talks of 
 nothing but herself, and, always fatigued, 
 wants to be carried.' 
 
 'What stupid stuff!' returned Doris, rather 
 crossly, for she was in no mood for philo- 
 sophical reflections. ' Why should Reality 
 be an old woman ? i\s though young people 
 could not be real too ! As for Imagination, 
 you are ever so much more imaginative than 
 I — Gerard said so once. Don't you recol- 
 lect his calling us Poetry and Prose, and you 
 were affronted because he said afterwards 
 that he hated poetry ?' 
 
 Gerda laughed ; the little episode had
 
 ON THE CHILVERTON ROAD i6i 
 
 escaped her memory, but she recalled It now. 
 How red Gerard had got after uttering that 
 unlucky speech, and how abject had been 
 his apology, ' I did not mean It, you know, 
 not really ' ! 
 
 ' Prose is the best for everyday life,' she 
 had returned quietly ; ' you are quite right, 
 Gerard. I do not mind you telling the truth 
 In the least. Doris is far nicer than I am ; 
 she is not always walking about with her 
 head in the clouds.' But to this injudicious 
 speech Gerard made no reply. 
 
 * Never mind, Doris ; I will not tease you 
 any more. What were you saying about 
 sixteen couples ? I hope you are not count- 
 ing either Dr. Lyall or Mr. Alllngham, for 
 they will not dance.' 
 
 ' Indeed they will !' replied Doris excitedly. 
 ' Gerard says he will insist on every man 
 doing his duty. What are we to do about 
 dresses, Gerda ? I suppose I must wear m}^ 
 white silk ; I have nothing else ;' and then 
 the two girls began gravely discussing the 
 contents of their wardrobe. 
 
 This conversation had taken place on 
 Saturday evening ; all the Invitations had 
 been sent out, and Gerard had telegraphed 
 
 VOL. I. I I
 
 i62 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 to several choice spirits who were sojourn- 
 ing in various parts of the country. The 
 band, too, a cornet and pianist from the 
 neighbouring town, had been bespoken, and 
 an extensive order to the confectioner had 
 been written by Mrs. Meredith, who was 
 already nearly worn out by the minute and 
 fussy orders that Sir Godfrey was giving 
 every hour of the day. 
 
 Sir Godfrey felt himself to be a public 
 benefactor. During the next few days the 
 Master of Chesterton Hall was very much 
 to the fore ; nothing must be done without 
 his surveillance ; he must give every order, 
 superintend every arrangement — even the 
 polishing of the oak floor, and the decora- 
 tion and lighting of the old hall, could not 
 be carried out without his constant super- 
 vision. When Mrs. Hake and Pamela called 
 to offer their assistance, the afternoon before 
 the dance, they found Sir Godfrey standing 
 before the fireplace with his pince-nez in his 
 hand, directing Rogers and a bevy of maids, 
 while Mrs. Meredith stood at his elbow put- 
 ting in a timid word now and then, and 
 looking excessively tired. 
 
 * Take care how you move that oak
 
 ON THE CHILVERTON ROAD 163 
 
 cabinet, Rogers ; it is just the least bit 
 rickety on one foot. — Thank }'Ou, Gerard,' 
 as that young man went to Rogers' help. 
 — -Hannah, what are you doing with that 
 china ? — My dear,' turning to his daughter, 
 * you know I never allow the maids to touch 
 the Sevres china ; Hannah has an awkward 
 knack of letting things slip through her 
 fingers. Where are the girls ? It is their 
 business. — Hannah, I insist on your not touch- 
 ing the contents of that cabinet ! My grand- 
 daughters will be here directly. — Emma, 
 tell the young ladies that I wish them to 
 come at once. — Ah, Mrs. Hake, you find us 
 busy — extremely busy — my daughter and I 
 are superintending things. Servants are 
 like children ; they cannot be trusted out of 
 one's sight. Rogers has no head. — Sit down, 
 ladies. — Honoria, my love, will you take 
 Mrs. Hake to the drawing-room ? There 
 is some sort of fire there, I believe, and 
 Gerard and I will finish here.' 
 
 ' Do let us stop and help,' entreated Mrs. 
 Hake, taking no notice of this hint to with- 
 draw. * How admirably you have managed 
 the lighting, Mr. Hamlyn ! Those sconces 
 and the evergreens look so well. — Dear me.
 
 i64 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Sir Godfrey, you might be in the habit of 
 giving dances every fortnight, you seem to 
 understand the whole thing so well !' 
 
 * I believe we were indebted to Gerard for 
 most of the suggestions,' returned Sir God- 
 frey graciously. Mrs. Hake knew how to 
 manage him exactly : a word of praise, a 
 smile and a glance, and he became at once 
 lamb-like. ' We are raw recruits down here, 
 Mrs. Hake ; we want drilling ; and Gerard 
 is good enough to perform that office. — An 
 eighth of an inch more to the right, Gerard ' 
 — with a wave of his hand — 'just so — thank 
 you. Now for the piano ! — Doris, where is 
 your sister ? I want you to move the china 
 — this is your department, I believe ; it was 
 quite against rules for Hannah to touch it — 
 you and Gerda.' 
 
 ' Gerda has gone out for a walk, Grand,' 
 returned Doris, in rather a frightened tone. 
 ' She was tired of all the bustle, and said it 
 made her head ache. I persuaded her to go. 
 I can do the china very well alone.' 
 
 ' Nonsense ! when we are here to help 
 you,' returned Mrs. Hake vigorously, for a 
 cloud had gathered on Sir Godfrey's brow. 
 
 ' It is very odd that Gerda has a headache
 
 ON THE CHILVERTON ROAD 165 
 
 whenever she is required to make herself 
 useful,' he began ; but Gerard, as usual, 
 undertook the defence of the absent. 
 
 * Gerda has not seemed the thing since 
 that confounded ice accident,' he observed, 
 strolling across the hall with his hands in his 
 pockets. ' We shall have you knocked up, 
 too, Uncle Godfrey, if you stand about any 
 longer. Go into the drawing-room and get 
 some tea. — Mrs. Hake, please take him 
 away — he never refuses a lady ;' and Sir 
 Godfrey at last allowed himself to be per- 
 suaded. — 'We shall get on twice as fast 
 without him,' Gerard observed confidentially 
 to Pamela. * The dear old boy fusses him- 
 self far too much. — Hannah, you need not 
 go away ; you can help Miss Doris. I am 
 sure you will take care not to break things — 
 and we really want hands.' 
 
 * Will mine do ?' asked Pamela, in much 
 humility, spreading out a pair of pretty little 
 hands as she spoke. ' Will Mr. Hamlyn 
 deign to accept my poor services ?' and she 
 dropped him a little curtsey. 
 
 ' All right ; Doris will find you something 
 to do, Miss Lyall,' he returned good- 
 humouredly, and he went off in search of
 
 1 66 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Rogers. He was not quite sure he admired 
 Miss Lyall ; she was very bright and 
 piquante, but just a little too sharp for his 
 taste ; and then he wondered for the third 
 time why Gerda should be prowling about 
 the cold wet roads in the twilio^ht. If he 
 were not so busy he would go after her ; he 
 hated girls wandering about after dark. 
 
 He need not have concerned himself about 
 her safety, for at that moment she was walk- 
 ing through the village with Dr. Lyall. He 
 had come out of the gate as she was passing 
 Braeside, and Waif had foolishly barked at 
 him, thereby attracting his attention. 
 
 Gerda had seen Dr. Lyall each day ; 
 whether by accident or design, they had met 
 continually. On Sunday he and Captain 
 Hake had walked home with them from 
 church, and had been persuaded by Sir God- 
 frey to stay to luncheon. They had spent 
 the remainder of the afternoon dawdling over 
 the fire in pleasant desultory conversation ; 
 Dr. Lyall had been drawn into a discussion 
 on books, and Gerda found that he knew 
 most of her favourite authors. 
 
 ' I am rather an omnivorous reader,' he 
 confessed. ' I read everything that comes to
 
 ON THE CHILVERTON ROAD 167 
 
 hand ; but I suppose I have my tastes, like 
 other people ;' and after a little judicious 
 pressing on Gerda's part, he had named two 
 or three books that had long been her 
 favourites. 
 
 ' Dr. Lyall is very intelligent,' she had 
 remarked to her sister after the two gentle- 
 men had taken their leave. 'It is a little 
 difficult to get at his opinions, as he is 
 naturally reserved, but I can see that he 
 thinks deeply on some subjects.' 
 
 ' I am glad you were pleased,' replied Doris 
 dryly ; ' but I cannot say that I found the 
 conversation interesting, I liked Gerard's 
 and Captain Hake's much better. I am 
 never out of my depth with them.' 
 
 Gerda was not sorry when she saw Dr. 
 Lyall's brisk, alert figure come out of Brae- 
 side ; she looked upon him now as quite an 
 old acquaintance. Dr. Lyall on his part 
 looked excessively pleased. 
 
 ' You have chosen a miserable afternoon 
 for a walk,' he said, with an approving glance, 
 notwithstanding, at her neat, trim appearance 
 and thick boots. ' Do you always take a 
 constitutional In all weathers ?' 
 
 ' I believe so ; it is no use staying indoors,
 
 i68 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 unless It rains very heavily. But I confess it 
 is not a pleasant afternoon.' 
 
 'You are putting it mildly,' he returned, as 
 he suited his pace to hers ; ' most people 
 would use a stronger epithet, and I should 
 not blame them ' — looking before him at the 
 half-melted slush of the road, and the dank, 
 wet vegetation. It was a cold thaw, and the 
 damp chill seemed to creep to his bones. 
 ' We must walk fast if we are to keep warm,' 
 he finished. 
 
 ' Do not let me take you out of your way,' 
 observed Gerda, a little nervously. ' I am 
 quite used to walking alone. There was 
 such a noise and bustle in the house that I 
 was glad to escape ; besides, my head ached.' 
 
 ' I am afraid you sat up reading too late 
 last night. Ah, I see you are startled at my 
 singular penetration ; but I am right for once, 
 am I not ? No, you are not taking me out 
 of my way, for the sole reason that I have 
 no way. I had just come out for a prowl. 
 If you do not object to my companionship, 
 I should like to accompany you. I want to 
 point out to you seriously the error of your 
 ways. Do you know that you are very 
 sensitive and excitable, and that you need
 
 ON THE CHILVERTON ROAD 169 
 
 anodynes, not stimulants. Now, though I 
 am no magician, I will wager anything you 
 like that you had no beauty sleep last night.' 
 ' I was certainly not in bed until one 
 o'clock,' replied Gerda, in rather a guilty 
 tone ; ' but I assure you that I was not 
 reading.' 
 
 * You were thinking, then ?' 
 Gerda nodded. 
 
 Dr. Lyall threw up his head in rather 
 an argumentative manner. Miss Meredith 
 might be interesting and attractive, and in 
 his opinion she was both ; but she was not 
 exempt from the weaknesses of her sex. 
 
 * I suppose you were thinking about the 
 dance ?' — and there was latent disdain in his 
 tone. ' That is why I say you are excitable. 
 A well-balanced mind ' But she inter- 
 rupted him indignantly. 
 
 * The dance ! Do you think I am a child ? 
 What an opinion you must have of me ! As 
 though the prospect of a pleasant evening 
 would deprive me of sleep ! You are wrong 
 for once. Dr. Lyall,' walking on faster than 
 ever, and her words tripping each other up, 
 while he listened with an amused smile. 
 * I was thinking of far different things, of a
 
 70 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 much graver subject — I was wondering why 
 so little light came to one when one was 
 perplexed and could see no way out of the 
 maze. After all, it is better to be a man. 
 Men are so free ; they can do what they like ; 
 no one ventures to control their actions ; but 
 when one is only a girl, people think they 
 have a right to interfere — they give her 
 advice, they thwart, and guide, and push her 
 in every direction except where she wishes 
 to go. I know people call this the emanci- 
 pated age ; but I do not seem to see it 
 myself.' 
 
 ' Does this deluge of strong indignation, 
 that has almost swamped me, mean personal 
 and grievous experience, or are you merely 
 standing up in generous championship for the 
 rights of your sex ?' 
 
 ' I see you are laughing at me, Dr. Lyall,' 
 calming down under that cool, satirical tone ; 
 ' but I assure you that it is no matter for 
 amusement. I am beginning to think women 
 have a great deal to bear.' 
 
 ' I will agree with you for once — suppose 
 I give you that point ; but we must not go 
 too fast. You want to prove to me that 
 the young women of the present age are
 
 ON THE CHILVERTON ROAD 171 
 
 Still shackled, that their friends and relatives 
 are often dictatorial and interfering. Perhaps 
 in individual cases this may be so ; but surely 
 the girl is a free agent. There is no need 
 for her to follow advice implicitly. After all, 
 I do not think we need pity them. English 
 girls are remarkably robust.' 
 
 * It is impossible for you to understand,' 
 returned Gerda, with a sort of despair in her 
 voice, which gave Dr. Lyall a painful sensa- 
 tion. * You are not a woman ; you do not 
 comprehend the situation in the least.' 
 
 ' Perhaps if you were a little more explicit,' 
 he began gravely, and there was now no 
 latent sarcasm in his manner. After all, 
 these vague remarks might point to sone 
 real perplexity ; she might be in difficulty 
 herself; she might even need a friend. 
 
 * That is exacdy what I cannot be,' she 
 replied quickly, and then she hesitated. 
 
 Why was she so anxious to know this 
 man's opinion ? A week ago he had been 
 a stranger to her, and even now she knew 
 little about him ; but there was something 
 about Dr. Lyall, a certain quiet strength and 
 self-reliance, that made people willing to 
 trust him. No man had ever had more
 
 172 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 secrets confided to him — women especially- 
 told him their troubles — for one thing he was 
 never afraid of speaking the truth to them. 
 
 Gerda was vaguely sensible of all this. 
 Dr. Lyall was different from most men ; he 
 was less selfish and less self-engrossed. In 
 his busy life he had still leisure to interest 
 himself in other people. Could she not 
 obtain his unprejudiced opinion in some 
 roundabout way ? It would be impossible 
 to speak plainly ; but she might draw an 
 imaginary case. 
 
 ' Suppose, for the sake of argument,' she 
 began, ' that a girl found herself in a difficult 
 position ; that all her friends had agreed to 
 put a pressure on her to do a certain thing, 
 and that to please them and make them 
 happy she must do it or else bring herself 
 into trouble with them. Of course,' breaking 
 oft" hastily, ' I am only quoting this as an 
 example to illustrate my theory — that girls 
 are too much coerced.' 
 
 * Oh, of course I understand that ;' but Dr. 
 Lyall gave his companion a quick glance as 
 he said this. 'May I venture to ask if this 
 supposititious young lady were unwilling to 
 fall in with her friends' views ?'
 
 ON THE CHILVERTON ROAD 173 
 
 ' We will say she was not willing — or, 
 perhaps, to render it a little more complex, 
 we will put it that she was hardly sure in 
 her own mind whether she wished it or not. 
 Anyhow, this free agent, as you call her, 
 would be subjected to daily and hourly 
 pressure.' 
 
 * I begin to see what you mean,' he 
 returned slowly, as though he were ponder- 
 ing every word. ' If there were many similar 
 cases you would be certainly right in saying 
 men have the best of it. But, Miss Meredith, 
 after all, It Is perfectly simple for women as 
 well as for men — there can be but one right 
 and wrong ; surely we have not one code for 
 the male and another for the female sex.' 
 
 ' Certainly not.' 
 
 ' This fictitious young lady may have a 
 great deal to bear from her friends' impor- 
 tunity — I will not deny that — but no coercion, 
 no well-meant advice, ought to prevail with 
 her against her conscience. If my sister were 
 to come and ask me : " Shall I do this or that 
 thing ? — take care how you answer me, for It 
 will involve the happiness or unhappiness of 
 my life " — I would not be so presumptuous as 
 to answer her. Why should I direct another
 
 174 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 human being's life ? I might, indeed, offer 
 her advice, I might point out the pitfalls that 
 would lie in her way ; but the decision would 
 rest with her. Follow your conscience, do 
 what you think would be right and true, and 
 leave the results.' 
 
 ' Thank you !' For the moment Gerda felt 
 she could say no more ; but, to her surprise, 
 Dr. Lyall went on talking : 
 
 ' It is very strange that we should have 
 had this argument, for I was once placed my- 
 self in this painful position. Perhaps you 
 do not know that I have another sister beside 
 Pamela ?' 
 
 ' Miss Lyall told me about her — she is 
 married.' 
 
 ' Yes ; that is the unfortunate part of it. 
 She has married the wrong man. But she 
 would not allow that he was anything but the 
 right one — though we both tried, Pamela and 
 I, to prove to her her mistake. Hester is two 
 years older than I am, and a very clever 
 woman. Her husband ought to have been 
 superior to herself, or at least her equal — it 
 was degrading her intellect to marry Julius 
 Vincent.' 
 
 ' What is wrong with him ?'
 
 ON THE CHILVERTON ROAD 175 
 
 * What is right with him ? you might say. 
 Oh, you need not be shocked — my brother- 
 in law has no vices : he is simply an idle, an 
 irresponsible being, who has not arrived at 
 his full stature.' 
 
 ' i\nd yet your sister loved him ?' 
 ' I suppose so. Julius contrived to win her 
 affections ; ladies call him fascinating. Well, 
 Miss Meredith, now for my difficulty : my 
 sister came to me and said, in so many words, 
 " I love this man ; I never intend to marry 
 anyone else. I would rather be unhappy with 
 him than live without him : if I do not become 
 his wife my life will be spoilt ; but I will not 
 marry him if you forbid me to do so." ' 
 ' Did she really say that ?' 
 
 * She did — and, what is more, she would 
 have abided by her words : my sister is a 
 conscientious woman. She had heard all my 
 arguments before ; there was no use in my 
 repeating them. I had told her before that if 
 she married Julius Vincent she would be a 
 needy woman all her life ; but when she 
 put it to me like this, when she insisted on 
 making me, her brother, the arbitrator of her 
 fate, I refused to speak. I would not forbid 
 her to marry him.'
 
 176 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 ' I think you were right — and, in any case, 
 she knew your opinion.' 
 
 ' She knew it. And three weeks after- 
 wards she married him, and my words have 
 come true. Julius does not work ; he paints 
 bad pictures, and wastes his time and strength. 
 Hester keeps a day-school, that she and her 
 children may have bread enough to eat and 
 to keep their heads out of debt. Why do I 
 tell you this painful story, Miss Meredith ? 
 Is it not to illustrate my theory — as you have 
 yours — that we must do what we think right, 
 even if it give us pain and leave results. For- 
 give me for preaching such a sermon/ with a 
 short laugh, ' but you have brought it on 
 yourself.' 
 
 ' I have nothing to forgive ; on the con- 
 trary, I am extremely obliged to you. Dr. 
 Lyall !' — suddenly — ' I have no idea where 
 we are, and it is growing dark.' 
 
 ' I was about to observe the same thing. 
 We are on the highroad to Chilverton, and 
 we have turned once : the sign-post told me 
 as much five minutes ago.' 
 
 ' Have we passed the sign-post ?' in a 
 relieved tone. ' Then we have only to turn 
 down Bramble Lane, as it is called, and there
 
 ox THE CHILVERTOX ROAD 177 
 
 is a short-cut that will brinor- us to the Hall in 
 ten minutes.' 
 
 ' Then by all means let us take it, before it 
 gets too dark to see our way — for it is quite 
 time for you to be home. This is the result 
 of getting too deeply into argument. I had 
 not the slightest intention of giving you more 
 than ten minutes of my company. I think I 
 must apologize to Mrs. Meredith. Shall I ?' 
 
 Gerda made no objection, and they both 
 quickened their steps, and in a few more 
 minutes they were at their destination. 
 
 Mrs. Meredith received the doctor's 
 excuses very graciously. Gerda had a bad 
 habit, she said, of going out between lights. 
 In the village it did not matter, everyone 
 knew them ; but the roads were certainly 
 very lonely. She must forbid such walks in 
 the future ; her girls were too fearless and 
 independent. She was much obliged to Dr. 
 Lyall for his escort, and she could not see 
 that he was to blame for so kindly taking 
 care of her daughter. 
 
 Dr. Lyall was exonerated, but Gerda her- 
 self did not escape scot-free. Her mother 
 followed her to her room. 
 
 ' This must never happen again, Gerda,' 
 
 VOL. I. 12
 
 178 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 she said with rather a grave face. You are 
 too incautious, my dear. I am sure Gerard 
 would object to you walking with Dr, Lyall. 
 Of course,' as Gerda looked vexed at this 
 allusion to her cousin, ' I see exactly how it 
 happened. He was coming out of Braeside, 
 and, as he was walking in the same direction, 
 he joined you.' 
 
 ' Yes, and then we got into an argument, 
 and walked a little too far.' 
 
 * Just so. Well, for this once I will excuse 
 it ; but, as I said before, it must never occur 
 again. For the future you must take your 
 walks earlier, and there is no need for you to 
 go alone either. Doris or I can accompany 
 you. You are too independent, Gerda, and, 
 after all, you are only a very young lady.' 
 
 ' Very well, mother ; I will be more careful 
 for the future ;' and Gerda sealed this promise 
 with a penitent kiss. 
 
 Mrs. Meredith so seldom asserted her 
 authority, that this unusual and dignified 
 remonstrance had its desired effect, and 
 nothine would have induced Gerda to allow 
 Dr. Lyall to walk many yards with her again 
 along the Chesterton roads.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 AN INNOCENT MATCHMAKER. 
 
 'True friendship can afford true knowledge. It does not 
 depend on darkness or ignorance.' — Thoreau. 
 
 Gerda had received her mother's rebuke very 
 sweetly, but she v^ould have been both sur- 
 prised and grieved if she had guessed how 
 severely Dr. Lyall had taken himself to task 
 for his incautiousness. 
 
 ' What right have I to be running after 
 that girl ?' he said to himself, as he walked 
 back to Braeside. ' What right have I to let 
 her see — as she must see — the pleasure I take 
 in her society, just because she is simpler and 
 more genuine than other girls? Perhaps, after 
 air — with momentary wavering — 'it does 
 not matter to a tough old fellow like me. At 
 thirty-two one is no boy, and a passing fancy 
 cannot hurt me. It is not likely that I should
 
 i8o SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 have made an impression on her. ' What a 
 child she is,' he went on, after following this 
 line of thought for a few minutes, ' in spite 
 of her clever talk ! She had no idea how 
 thoroughly I understood her vague illustra- 
 tion. Poor little girl ! So they are all bent 
 on marrying her to the handsome cousin, and, 
 from the little I have seen, the young fellow 
 wishes it too. Well, he is a fine, manly type 
 of a young Englishman, and I do not believe 
 she could do better for herself than take him. 
 If I know anything about human nature, he 
 is a thoroughly good fellow. So she is not 
 quite ready with her yea, yea — that is so like 
 a woman. She fears to cheapen herself by 
 too speedy an assent. In this sort of case, to 
 waver is to yield. I expect Hamlyn will get 
 his way sooner or later. " This lady doth 
 protest too much." And yet the poor child 
 seemed terribly in earnest.' 
 
 Human nature is somewhat complex in its 
 workings. For some reason best known to 
 himself, Dr. Lyall was anxious to prove to 
 himself most clearly that Miss Meredith's 
 vacillation of purpose, her doubts and tremors, 
 all showed that she was really not so averse 
 to the family plan, after all.
 
 AN INNOCENT MATCHMAKER i8i 
 
 ' She Is more sensitive than most girls,' he 
 continued. ' Her conscience is over-scrupu- 
 lous, and she has a fine notion of honour — 
 this does her credit. By-and-by her scruples 
 will adjust themselves. One day she will 
 wake up to the consciousness that sentiment 
 and duty are reconciled, and then she will 
 accept him all the more thankfully that she 
 ha^ undergone a martyrdom in his behalf. I 
 suppose I am an old fool — I decline to call 
 myself a young one — but I think Hamlyn is 
 to be envied. It must be rather pleasant to 
 have a superior woman concentrating all her 
 thoughts on one in that intelligent fashion. 
 The generality of girls I have seen are cer- 
 tainly feebler in mind, and as a rule they do 
 not interest me. Helgho ! One must not 
 pay too dearly for a week's idleness. I will 
 go and have a game of billiards with Hake 
 before dinner. That will be a wiser plan than 
 indulging in introspection.' 
 
 Dr. Lyall carried out this resolution 
 promptly. He had a thoroughly healthy 
 organization of mind and body, a steady 
 temperament that would carry him safely 
 through perils to which weaker men would 
 at once succumb. He was sharp-sighted
 
 i83 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 enough to see the danger that menaced him. 
 He was on the brink ; he must be wary and 
 draw back in time, before he was wholly- 
 fascinated. Dr. Lyall's hand was as steady 
 as usual that evening. He won every game, 
 much to his friend's chagrin, and at dinner he 
 was unusually pugnacious, for he inveigled 
 the curate, Mr. Allingham, into an argument, 
 and vanquished him in every point. 
 
 * Lyall is in force to-night,' observed Captain 
 Hake when they left the table. ' He has left 
 Allingham without a leg to stand on.' 
 
 Gerda would have been thankful for a quiet 
 half-hour after her mother had left her ; she 
 wanted to review her conversation with Dr. 
 Lyall. But she wasn't to be left in peace. 
 Before ten minutes passed, Doris burst into 
 the room. 
 
 ' They have come, Gerda ; they drove up 
 in the waggonette five minutes ago. You 
 never saw such a lot of men, and most of 
 them tall. Let me see, there was Captain 
 Drummond, and Mr. Harry Power and his 
 brother, and Mr. Seymour and Mr. Lorraine, 
 and his cousin, Fulbert Stanley, and — oh, I 
 forget his name — the dark man with the 
 hook nose, who gave you the petunias.'
 
 AN INNOCENT MATCHMAKER 183 
 
 ' I suppose you mean Mr. Unwin ?' 
 
 ' Yes, of course. I wish his nose was not 
 so excessively Jewish ; but he is not really 
 bad-looking. Now, Gerda, we must fly, and 
 dress ourselves, for mother does look so 
 nervous. Gerard is showing them their 
 rooms. Do you hear them tramping down 
 the gallery ? I am so excited that I shall 
 never be ready. Mind you put on your 
 dark-blue velveteen, Gerda, for you look so 
 sweet in that. Do hurry up, as Gerard says ;' 
 and with this parting monition Doris dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 Gerda heaved an impatient sigh, but her 
 sense of duty made her dress rapidly and 
 hasten to her mother's side. Her manners 
 were so winning and gracious as she received 
 Gerard's friends, that the young man felt a 
 thrill of pride as he watched her. 
 
 * She is a darling,' he said to himself. ' I 
 can see how all those fellows admire her. 
 What a wife she will make for me one of 
 these days, if only I can get her to say '* Yes!'" 
 
 Honest Gerard was becoming thoroughly 
 in earnest, whatever Gerda might choose 
 to aver to the contrary. Propinquity had 
 done much for him. His o^ood-humoured
 
 i84 SIR GODFREY'S GRAN D-D AUGHTERS 
 
 acquiescence in Sir Godfrey's scheme had 
 yielded to a real desire to win his cousin ; 
 and more than once on this evening Gerda 
 detected him looking at her with unusual 
 seriousness in his eyes. 
 
 The dinner-table that night was a merry 
 one. Sir Godfrey told one or two of his 
 favourite stories, which were listened to by 
 the young men with due respect and decorum. 
 Mr. Seymour, indeed, who had heard them 
 before, was a little too ready with his laugh 
 before the proper tickling point had been 
 reached, but Sir Godfrey benevolently over- 
 looked this. 
 
 ' You will laugh more before I finish.' he 
 said benignly. And he was right, for long 
 before the climax was reached Mr. Seymour's 
 suppressed mirth had broken all bounds, and 
 had communicated its infection to the other 
 young men. 
 
 * Gentlemen, gentlemen ! pray allow me to 
 finish,' pleaded poor Sir Godfrey ; but he 
 was not permitted to do so, though this was 
 the best story of all — his bonne bouche. 
 
 ' It is of no use, Sir Godfrey. You have 
 nearly killed us already ; you should be more 
 careful, really. Look at Drummond ; how
 
 AN INNOCENT MATCHMAKER 
 
 red in the face he is, and apoplexy in his 
 family, too ! Apoplexy — or insanity, which 
 is it, Drummond ? I am never quite sure,' 
 continued the lively youth. 
 
 Sir Godfrey gave one of his old-fashioned 
 little bows. He hardly knew whether to 
 regard Mr. Seymour's hilarity as a compli- 
 ment or not ; he never liked to be inter- 
 rupted in his stories, especially that story, 
 and yet, how was it possible to proceed amid 
 peals of laughter ? 
 
 ' If you say any more, Sir Godfrey, our 
 deaths will lie at your door. It is exquisite 
 cruelty, is it not, Drummond ? to ask a man to 
 eat such a dinner as this, and then threaten 
 him with apoplex)-, by telling him such a 
 story.' And Mr. Seymour shook his head 
 sadly at the old gentleman. 
 
 ' Shut up, you fool !' whispered Gerard 
 savagely in his chum's ear. ' He will see 
 you are poking fun at him directly.' 
 
 But Sir Godfrey saw nothing of th(r kind. 
 Charlie Seymour was a special favourite, and 
 had his privileges ; and, like a wise youth, 
 he always knew the length of his tether, so 
 he at once began talking across the table to 
 Gerda on esoteric Buddhism.
 
 i86 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 ' You are a pupil of occultism, I know, 
 Miss Meredith, and are a devout follower 
 of Madame Blavatsky, and the Arkats and 
 Mahatmas, commonly known as the Brothers. 
 I suppose by this time you have gained 
 additional knowledge ; I am rather anxious 
 about my Karma.' 
 
 ' I am sorry that I cannot give you any 
 information, Mr. Seymour,' returned Gerda 
 sweetly ; ' I had no idea you took interest 
 in esoteric science. This is quite a new 
 departure, is it not ? Mother, do you not 
 think it is time for us to go ? I expect 
 Grand has another story ready ;' and at this 
 very broad hint Mrs. Meredith rose at once. 
 
 Charlie Seymour was an old adversary, 
 and he and Gerda never met without one 
 pitched battle at least. He had a knack 
 of drawing her out on one of her pet 
 hobbies — Buddhism, Comparative Mythology 
 or Psychology, it did not matter what ; and 
 when she had waxed warm and eloquent, 
 and had sufficiently displayed her partial 
 knowledge or utter ignorance, he would then 
 and there turn the whole subject into fun. 
 But for once Gerda was wary, and refused 
 to be entrapped into a discussion.
 
 AN INNOCENT MATCHMAKER 187 
 
 * I am SO glad you remember what you 
 read, Mr. Seymour,' she said, sending a 
 Parthian arrow as she swept out of the 
 room. 
 
 The evening passed very pleasantly. Two 
 or three of the guests were decidedly musical : 
 Mr. Harry Power had brought his violin, 
 and his brother played the clarionet ; Captain 
 Drummond and the irrepressible Charlie 
 Seymour had good voices ; and as both 
 Gerda and Doris sung, they had quite a 
 musical entertainment, which lasted until Sir 
 Godfrey woke up from his usual evening nap, 
 and rather peremptorily ordered all the men 
 off to the billiard-room. 
 
 Neither did the next few hours hang heavily 
 on their hands. A brisk six miles walk, a 
 good deal of exercise in the winter tennis- 
 court, and two or three games at billiards 
 after tea, filled up the day. The girls had 
 joined in the tennis tournament, but Mrs. 
 Meredith would not hear of their accom- 
 panying the walking party, though Mrs. 
 Hake would willingly have chaperoned them, 
 as she and the Lyalls were to walk with the 
 gentlemen. But they were not without 
 female companionship, as Charlie Seymour
 
 i88 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 expressed it, for as they passed the vicarage 
 they encountered the two Hilton girls and 
 Robina Stewart, with two of the Stewart lads 
 and Mr. Allingham as escort, and Mrs. Hake 
 had induced them to accompany the walking 
 party. 
 
 Gerda felt a little pang of regret when 
 Robina told her all about it afterwards. She 
 would have liked to have been of the party, 
 but her mother needed her help, and both 
 she and Doris were kept busy until tea-time. 
 An hour later, as Doris was passing through 
 the hall on her way from the drawing-room, 
 she saw Gerard standing on the bearskin rug, 
 staring rather gloomily into the fire. 
 
 ' I thought you were playing billiards, 
 Gerard,' she observed, with some surprise. 
 
 'No; I was only looking on; the other 
 fellows are having a match. Where is Gerda ? 
 Not dressing already ?' — as Doris pointed to 
 the staircase. 
 
 'Well, I believe so. Mother told us that 
 we were to be very punctual ; but all the 
 same I don't mean to move for another half- 
 hour. That is the best of having a curly 
 crop ' — passing her hand over the mass of 
 short soft curls, that somehow suited her
 
 AN INNOCENT MATCHMAKER 189 
 
 face. ' If I had Gerda's long hair I should 
 take ever so much more tune to dress.' 
 
 ' Yes, of course.' But it was easy to see 
 that Gerard had not heard a word of this. 
 He was pulling his moustaches in a perturbed 
 manner, and there was an anxious frown on 
 his brow. ' Look here, Doris,' he said 
 suddenly, ' you and I have always been 
 chums, and I am going to have the first 
 dance with } ou to-night.' 
 
 ' Oh, not really, Gerard !' and Doris blushed 
 very prettily at this unexpected compliment. 
 
 ' So you are engaged to me, you see. 
 Well, we have settled that, and now I want 
 to speak to you about something else. Do 
 you think ' — clearing his voice — ' that I have 
 a grain of chance with Gerda ?' 
 
 Doris started, and the pretty colour left 
 her cheeks a little suddenly. She was deep 
 in Gerard's confidence ; she had found out 
 all about it one day when they two were 
 having a long walk together, and she had 
 given him a great deal of suppo^^nd sym- 
 pathy in her girlish way, and it tfas under- 
 stood between them that on all poseible and 
 impossible occasions she was to advance 
 Gerard's cause.
 
 iQo SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 * You see,' he went on, for Doris was only 
 twisting her fingers nervously together, and 
 had not answered, ' Uncle Godfrey has been 
 prodding me on again — not that I require 
 prodding' — becoming suddenly conscious that 
 this form of expression was not exactly 
 suitable to the circumstances. ' Uncle God- 
 frey is always in such a hurry — '* Why not 
 do it to-night ?" he said to me an hour ago ; 
 " you could not have a better opportunity. 
 I have my reasons for giving you this bit of 
 advice, and I assure you you won't repent 
 taking it." Now, what on earth did he mean 
 by that ?' 
 
 ' I am sure I do not know,' returned Doris, 
 shaking her head rather dejectedly ; * but 
 you need not do it all the same, Gerard ; it 
 would be the worst possible time to choose. 
 You and Gerda ought to be thinking only of 
 
 your guests ; not — not ' But here Doris 
 
 stammered and broke down. 'She — she 
 would not like it, you know.' 
 
 * Why not ?' for this opposition spurred 
 him on afresh. * Lots of fellows do it at 
 balls ; the music and crowd help, somehow. 
 You don't see the difficulty, Doris ' — taking 
 her arm and marching her up and down the
 
 AN INNOCENT MATCHMAKER 191 
 
 polished floor. ' 1 never can get Gerda alone 
 for a minute. She refuses to walk with me 
 unless you accompany us, and if I ever catch 
 her alone she makes some excuse to leave 
 me. I told you all this before, and you 
 promised to help me ' — a little reproach- 
 fully. 
 
 ' So I will, Gerard ' — with a suspicious 
 catch in her breath. ' I always — always want 
 to help you.' 
 
 ' Yes, I know you are a dear little soul, 
 Doey ' — Gerard's pet name for her — ' and I 
 am not blaming you the least ; but I am a 
 bit down about it to-night. I sometimes 
 think she will not have anything to say to 
 me, because I do not care for her books.' 
 ' But you do read sometimes, Gerard.' 
 ' Yes, the paper — and I don't mind a novel, 
 if there is any go in it ; but ' — with a trace of 
 contempt in his tone for Doris's slowness of 
 comprehension — ' do you call that reading ? 
 Gerda would like me to study Carlyle and 
 Emerson and Ruskin, and all the old literary 
 fogies, and then she would expect me to talk 
 about them.' 
 
 ' But surely all that is not necessary in — 
 in You know what I mean, Gerard ;' for
 
 192 SIR GODFRETS GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 the magnitude of the subject overwhelmed 
 Doris. 
 
 ' You mean that it is not a necessary con- 
 dition, or even corollary, of the marriage 
 service. Well, I suppose not, if only Gerda 
 can be persuaded of the fact. I would not 
 allow it to anyone else, but she is just a little 
 bit too uppish on these subjects ; for all her 
 grand talk, it is not necessary for a man to be 
 a book-worm. If I can only prove this to her!' 
 
 * You must try, Gerard, but I would not — 
 I would not do it to-night if I were you. 
 Now I must really go. Please, please, do 
 not keep me a moment longer, or mother will 
 be annoyed ;' and then Gerard reluctantly 
 let her go. 
 
 There were two little pearly drops on 
 Doris's hot cheeks as she stood before her 
 toilet-table. 
 
 ' He is wrong ; he must be wrong,' she 
 sighed. * Gerda could never find it in her 
 heart to refuse him ; she is only just keep- 
 ing him in suspense. I wish he would not 
 be so worried ; he was not a bit like himself 
 to-night. Of course she will say '' Yes " to 
 him : she shall, she must. It would be too 
 dreadful to see Gerard unhappy.'
 
 AN INNOCENT MATCHMAKER 193 
 
 * We must do what we think right, even if 
 it give us pain, and leave results,' Gerda was 
 saying to herself that moment. ' How clearly 
 he put it — it was like a sudden flash of strong 
 light in some dark place, it seemed to illumine 
 everything. I must remember those words 
 if I ever find myself in a difficulty again. 
 He is very wise. I should think he made 
 fewer mistakes than most people. Oh, if 
 one could have such a friend !' and Gerda 
 echoed Doris's sigh. 
 
 VOL. I. 13
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 GERARD FINDS HIS OPPORTUNITY. 
 
 ' Most men find they have more courage than they them- 
 selves think they have.'— Greville. 
 
 Mrs. Hake had made a solemn covenant 
 and promise that she and her guests would 
 be the first to arrive on the eventful evening. 
 She had yielded most willingly to Doris's 
 entreaties to this effect, and had endorsed 
 them for the benefit of Mrs. Meredith, who 
 was a little overwhelmed by her respon- 
 sibilities. 
 
 ' We must insist on the Braeside people 
 coming punctually,' Doris had said a few 
 evenings previously. ' There can be no 
 stiffness or formality when Mrs. Hake is in 
 the room ; she will make us begin dancing 
 at once, instead of standing about looking 
 at each other ;' for Doris was determined to
 
 GERARD FINDS HIS OPPORTUNITY 195 
 
 extract as much enjoyment as possible from 
 her first grown-up party. 
 
 Mrs. Hake was a woman of honour, and 
 she l^ept her word ; she hunted up her 
 husband and Dr. Lyall from their cosy arm- 
 chairs in the study, and she hurried Pamela 
 remorselessly over her toilet, though that 
 self-willed young lady disliked to hurry 
 herself, and she marshalled her forces with 
 such tact and diplomacy that Captain Hake 
 forgot to grumble, and they were actually at 
 the door of Chesterton Hall before the clock 
 struck eight. 
 
 As they passed round the heavy-carved 
 screen that shut off the entrance-door, the 
 ladies uttered an exclamation of delighted 
 surprise ; indeed, Pamela thought it was the 
 most picturesque scene she had ever beheld. 
 All the furniture had been moved into 
 corners or taken away, and the grand pro- 
 portions of the fine old hall were fully seen 
 for the first time. The Japanese screen 
 had been withdrawn, and the wide broad 
 staircase was exposed to view, the crimson 
 carpet, and pots of azaleas, and tall leafy ferns 
 adding to the effect. A single row of oil- 
 lamps ran round the gallery, while number-
 
 196 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 less lights below gleamed among wreaths 
 of evergreens and drooping flags. Mrs. 
 Meredith and her daughters stood among 
 the group of gentlemen on the rug. The 
 girls were dressed alike in soft white silk 
 gowns, only Gerda had a spray of pale pink 
 flowers. They had just finished dressing, 
 when their mother had summoned them 
 mysteriously to their grandfather's dressing- 
 room. They found Sir Godfrey standing 
 before an Indian cabinet ; he had two worn 
 morocco cases in his hand. 
 
 * Gerda,' he said, with his usual solemnity, 
 * you are the elder, and must have the first 
 choice ; take whichever you like, my dear, 
 and my little Dorrie shall have the other.' 
 
 Gerda opened the cases ; the first one 
 contained a gold necklace of fine antique 
 work, with a pendant of small rose diamonds ; 
 in the other there was a double row of pearls 
 with a tiny invisible clasp. The pearls were 
 not large, but their whiteness and delicacy 
 took Gerda's fancy. 
 
 • I would rather have the pearls, Grand,' 
 she said, in a satisfied tone ; and Sir Godfrey 
 himself clasped the dainty necklace round 
 Gerda's full white throat.
 
 GERARD FINDS HIS OPPORTUNITY 197 
 
 * The children look very nice to-night, 
 Honoria,' he observed, when he had dis- 
 missed them ; ' neither of them are hand- 
 some ; but Doris has youth and health, and 
 Gerda is as g-raceful as a young fawn. I 
 like to see a girl carry her head well.' But 
 here Sir Godfrey checked himself with a 
 short sigh, as he remembered the last time 
 there had been a ball in the old Hall, w^hen 
 Clare and Honoria were girls, and how the 
 slim, dark-eyed Clare had been the belle of 
 the evening. 
 
 Mrs. Meredith drew her lace shawl round 
 her shoulders with a slight movement of 
 impatience. Her girls were beautiful in her 
 eyes, and she was dissatisfied with her 
 father's qualified praise. She thought Gerda 
 was looking positively lovely to-night ; the 
 pale waxy flowers — Gerard's ^ift — had given 
 her the touch of colour she needed ; there 
 was a soft brightness in her eyes, and the 
 faintest rose tint in her cheeks. Mrs. 
 Meredith's maternal vanity would have 
 been gratified if she had only known how 
 thoroughly Gerard and Dr. Lyall shared 
 her opinion. 
 
 As the Braeside party joined the group
 
 198 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 round the fire, they found Gerda laying 
 down the law with the utmost animation to 
 Captain Drummond and two or three of the 
 other gentlemen, while Doris listened with 
 a perplexed face. 
 
 ' It is not right,' she was saying, in her 
 clear young voice. ' Do not let Mr. Seymour 
 talk you over, Dorrie ; it is not fair on the 
 other girls ; it is taking a mean advantage 
 of them. — Don't you agree with me. Dr. 
 Lyall ?'■ — as he advanced towards the circle 
 — ' is it right for us, the daughters of the 
 house, to fill up our programmes before our 
 guests arrive ? Doris's programme is full, 
 and I want her to burn it.' 
 
 ' But surely you mean to dance yourself, 
 Miss Meredith ?' 
 
 Gerard answered for her : 
 
 * She is going to give me three valses, I 
 know. After that it does not matter to me 
 when you fellows cut in.' 
 
 ' Gerard, be quiet ! I will promise you 
 nothing until the other girls have their pro- 
 grammes filled, and then I will dance with 
 everybody.' 
 
 * Don't listen to her, Miss Doris,' whis- 
 pered Charlie Seymour ; * keep your pro-
 
 GERARD FINDS HIS OPPORTUNITY 199 
 
 gramme — or, look here : let me keep it for 
 you ;' and he took it out of Doris's unresisting 
 hand. 
 
 Doris looked after it regretfully ; she had 
 herself written that shaky ' G. H.' against 
 the first dance, and had explained to each 
 gentleman in succession that the initials be- 
 longed to her cousin Gerard. This was the 
 crowning glory of the evening to Doris — this 
 hrst valse with Gerard. When the moment 
 drew near and the music began, she dimpled 
 with such pride and pleasure that more than 
 one pair of eyes followed her with amused 
 admiration, and Gerard himself looked at her 
 very kindly. 
 
 ' How grand you look to-night, Doey 1 
 Diamonds, too !' with a glance at the glitter- 
 ing pendant. ' Come along, we shall have 
 the floor to ourselves ;' and Gerard's strong 
 arm and smooth step transported the little 
 girl into a sort of Elysium. 
 
 That no one could dance like Gerard was 
 part of Doris's creed, and even Gerda agreed 
 that it was the one thing he did perfectly. 
 
 Sir Godfrey was afraid he was growing 
 just a little deaf; he said as much to Charlie 
 Seymour.
 
 200 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 ' I am afraid I am getting a little hard of 
 hearing, as our Stokes says,' he observed. ' 1 
 thought I overheard Dalton telling the Hil- 
 tons' coachman to bring round the carriage at 
 iialf-past two — but of course it must have been 
 my fancy : half-past twelve were my orders.' 
 
 ' I am afraid there must be a draught 
 somewhere,' returned Charlie nonchalantly. 
 * If you take my advice, Sir Godfrey, you 
 will keep at the other end of the hall ; 
 there ! I hear wheels ; the door is going to 
 open again. My dear sir, I positively insist 
 on your taking more care of yourself.' And 
 Charlie took his host's arm, and forcibl)' con- 
 ducted him to the fireplace. 
 
 * What an extraordinary thing ! Grand- 
 father's clock has stopped !' observed Gerard 
 gravely, as he carried off Gerda for the 
 second valse. 
 
 Gerda stood still in amazement. 
 
 ' What can have happened to it ?' she asked 
 anxiously. But a sudden twinkle in Gerard's 
 eyes undeceived her. 
 
 * You must ask Seymour. I am afraid that 
 bad boy has been up to his tricks again. 
 '' Small and early " — that is a comprehensive 
 term, he assures me. Happily, the roads
 
 GERARD FINDS HIS OPPORTUNITY 201 
 
 are safe, and there is some chance of a 
 moon.' 
 
 ' You two have been plotting mischief,' 
 returned Gerda shrewdly. * Grand thinks it 
 will be all over at half-past twelve. I heard 
 him tell Mrs. Owen that he considered these 
 Cinderella dances so sensible. He will be 
 very angry when he finds it out, Gerard.' 
 
 * We will make up a rubber of whist pre- 
 sently, and then he will know nothing about 
 it. I think this is going to be a success, 
 Gerda ; the people all seem enjoying them- 
 selves. Look at Allingham ! That is the 
 second time he has danced with the fair 
 Frances. I wonder what his Vicar would 
 say ?' 
 
 Mr. Allingham had forgotten all about his 
 Vicar. Frances Hilton always looked back 
 on the evening of the Hamlyns' dance as one 
 of the most important crises of her life, for it 
 was in the dimly-lighted conservatory that 
 Herbert Allingham had ventured to speak of 
 his love. ' Lots of fellows do it at balls,' 
 Gerard had s;\id, and on this eveninof his 
 words were verified. 
 
 * Do you intend to spare me one dance ?' 
 asked Dr. Lyall, as Gerard deposited his
 
 202 SIR GODFRETS GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 cousin on a seat, and rushed off to secure his 
 next partner ; and as he asked the question 
 he took the fan out of her hand, and began 
 to fan her with a practised hand. 
 
 Gerda elevated her eyebrows sH^htly. 
 
 * I thought you did not care about 
 dancing ?' 
 
 ' Oh, there are exceptions to every rule ; 
 and I shall care very much about dancing 
 with you. I am afraid, thous^h, that I shall 
 hardly distinguish myself as creditably as 
 Hamlyn — he seems an exceptionally good 
 dancer.' 
 
 ' So we all think. Gerard is quite in his 
 element to-night. What do you think, Dr. 
 Lyall ? He and Mr. Seymour have stopped 
 grandfather's clock for fear of its telling tales, 
 and they have given orders to Dalton that 
 none of the carriages are to come until half- 
 past two. Grand would be in such a fuss if 
 he knew that. Are you ready ?' as Dr. 
 Lyall smiled and offered his arm, and she 
 rose a little reluctantly. 
 
 She did not quite believe in Dr. Lyall's 
 capabilities as a partner, and she would rather 
 have talked to him in this quiet corner. She 
 was agreeably surprised, however. Dr. Lyall
 
 GERARD FINDS HIS OPPORTUNITY 203 
 
 did not acquit himself so badly, after all. He 
 had a good ear, and danced quietly and 
 evenly. 
 
 ' I think you were hardly speaking the 
 truth when you said you could not dance,' 
 Gerda observed rather reproachfully as they 
 paced up and down the long gallery, which 
 was used to-night as a promenade. Pamela 
 flashed an amused look at them as she 
 passed. 
 
 Alick was looking quite young and good- 
 looking, she thought ; evening dress always 
 suited dark men. He made an excellent foil 
 to Miss Meredith's fairness ; she, too, was 
 looking unusually well — that coronet of plaits 
 just suited her style. She had a faint idea 
 that Alick rather admired her ; though she 
 dare not hint such a thing to him for worlds, 
 for, with all her audacity, Pamela was a little 
 in awe of her brother. 
 
 ' Did I say I could not dance ?' remon- 
 strated Dr. Lyall. ' I think you must have 
 misunderstood me. I am rather indifferent 
 on the subject ; but, after all, it is good 
 exercise.' 
 
 Dr. Lyall spoke in an easy, unembarrassed 
 tone, but he was secretly conscious of an
 
 204 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 undue bounding of his pulses at this implied 
 compliment. He was a fool, of course — he 
 was always calling himself a fool now — but it 
 was very pleasant sauntering up and down 
 with a certain little gloved hand resting on 
 his arm. 
 
 ' Do you admire our decorations .^' she 
 asked next. 
 
 ^ Very much,' was the reply ; ' but you must 
 forgive me if I say the light is a little too 
 subdued. So much black oak absorbs the 
 brightness of all those lamps. If you could 
 only have electric light, now, the effect would 
 be superb.' 
 
 ' I suppose so. That is the worst of you 
 Londoners — nothing is good enough for you. 
 To our country-bred minds this soft moony 
 light is very pretty.' 
 
 ' Did I say otherwise ? You are a little 
 hard on me to-night, Miss Meredith. But 
 perhaps I expressed myself awkwardly. I 
 know when I go back to town I shall carry 
 away a vivid picture of this old hall. Can 
 anything be prettier than that moving crowd 
 below us— all those smiling faces and gay 
 dresses ?' 
 
 ' There is Captain Drummond looking up
 
 GERARD FINDS HIS OPPORTUNITY 205 
 
 at US. I am engaged to him for the next 
 dance. You are not going back to town yet, 
 Dr. Lyall ? you have only been here a week.' 
 
 * It has been the longest week I have ever 
 spent in my life, and I think I may say the 
 pleasantest,' responded Dr. Lyall a little 
 dreamily. ' Yes, we leave the day after to- 
 m.orrow ; my patients cannot spare me an)- 
 longer. Besides, ten days' idleness is enough 
 for any man.' 
 
 * That is very soon,' replied Gerda in a 
 low voice. 
 
 And then Captain Drummond came up to 
 them and carried her off. Gerda did not 
 make herself as pleasant as usual to her 
 partner. She was a little absent and distraite. 
 She was sorry to hear that the Lyalls were 
 leaving so soon. She liked Pamela, and 
 wanted to know her better, and she was by 
 no means indifferent to Pamela's brother. 
 
 ' What is the use of making friends if one 
 has to lose them.'^' she thought discontentedly. 
 * When Dr. Lyall gets back to his patients, he 
 will forget all about us. I dare say he will 
 not even remember that he has saved my life, 
 though I shall never, never forget it.' 
 
 Gerard had not found his opportunity yet.
 
 2o6 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-D AUGHTERS 
 
 He had had his three yalses with Gerda, in 
 spite of all her protestations. 
 
 ' You ought not to monopolize me to-night,* 
 she said in rather a vexed voice, as he came 
 up to her the third time ; ' besides, I am sure 
 that this dance belongs to Mr. Seymour.' 
 
 ' I will make it right with him,' returned 
 Gerard easily. ' You ought to be grateful to 
 me for rescuing you from a partner who only 
 reaches your shoulder. I do hate to see a 
 tall girl and a little man dancing together. 
 You and Seymour look like a wasp and a 
 may-pole together. You need not dance 
 with me, you know, and we can sit out ii^ you 
 like.' 
 
 But Gerda could not be induced to see this. 
 She liked dancing with Gerard better than 
 with anyone, and she knew that when they 
 danced together people stood still to watch 
 them. Her step suited his perfectly, so it 
 was no wonder that, as Dr. Lyall looked down 
 on them from the gallery, he muttered to him- 
 self that it was the perfect poetry of motion. 
 
 ' Is not this a charming scene, Alick ?' and 
 Pamela roused him with a smart tap of her 
 fan. ' Are you watching the dancers ? Does 
 not Mr. Hamlyn waltz well ? He has only
 
 GERARD FINDS HIS OPPORTUNITY 207 
 
 asked me once, and that is the third time he 
 has danced with his cousin.' 
 
 ' Do you mean that you are envious, Pam ? 
 1 thought Vincent objected to valses.' And 
 Dr. Lyall looked at his sister with latent fun 
 in his eyes. 
 
 Pam.ela frowned. Evidently the remark 
 did not please her. 
 
 ' I hope you do not expect me to give in to 
 all Derrick's absurd views. When he gives 
 up smoking I will promise to give up dancing. 
 1 mean to tell him that some day ; that is the 
 worst of being engaged ' — and Pamela looked 
 very pretty and naughty — ' it is putting your- 
 self in the power of a tyrant. Derrick thinks 
 he has the right to lecture nie.' 
 
 'Well, I suppose he has — at least, he 
 believes he has the right. But when you talk 
 of tyranny, I think it is rather the other way. 
 I don't think Vincent gets the best of it.' 
 
 * Oh, I am quire aware of your opinion by 
 this time,' returned Pamela, with a vixenish 
 look at her brother's amused face. ' Why do 
 you not go and tell Derrick all my faults, and 
 beg him to give me up ? It would be so like 
 you, Alick, to go and do a thing of that kind, 
 and call it duty.'
 
 2o8 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 * Would it ? Do you know, I expect he 
 has found them all out by this time. In spite 
 of his laziness, Vincent is very shrewd and 
 clear-sighted. I dare say you often give him 
 a taste of your temper, Pam.' 
 
 ' Oh, you are not going to exasperate me,' 
 she replied quickly. * Why do you not go 
 and dance, instead of finding fault with your 
 poor little sister ? There is that plain Miss 
 Hilton without a partner — let me introduce 
 you to her.' 
 
 * Thanks, awfully ; but I have finished 
 dancing for to-night. You had better talk to 
 her instead.' 
 
 But Pamela only shrugged her shoulders. 
 In another minute the yellowish silk skirt was 
 floating away among the dancers. Pamela 
 had no moments to throw away on plain-faced 
 Augusta Hilton. The irrepressible Charlie 
 had consoled himself for his lost partner in 
 listening to her sharp, merry speeches. 
 
 ' She is engaged, is she ?' Charlie was heard 
 to remark later on in the smoking-room. 
 'Who's the fell)W ? I have half a mind to 
 call him out. Six feet high, is he ?' — in answer 
 lo some remark — ' well, I don't care. David 
 stood up to Goliath, didn't he ? and your
 
 GERARD FINDS HIS OPPORTUNITY 209 
 
 humble servant has cheek enough for any- 
 thing. I like a lively girl with plenty of go 
 in her. Temper ! Of course she has got a 
 temper. All the right sort of women have — 
 prevents stagnation, wholesome irritant, and 
 all that kind of thing. If it were not for 
 Goliath I would go in and win.' 
 
 * Is it Miss Lyall's charms or the cham- 
 pagne that has been too much for you, 
 Charlie ?' asked Captain Drummond lazily. 
 ' Take my advice, my dear boy — " marry with 
 your ears, and not with your eyes." Miss 
 Lyall's voice is not to my taste ; it is a trifle 
 too acrid.' 
 
 Gerard had not yet found his opportunity. 
 It was growing late — a fact of which Sir 
 Godfrey was happily oblivious ; he and his 
 partner had just won their second rubber, 
 and the third was inevitable. But all comes 
 to him who waits, and just then a set of 
 lancers was formed, and Gerda relinquished 
 her partner under the plea of fatigue to the 
 younger Miss Hilton. Gerard, who was also 
 resting from his labours, strolled quietly 
 across the hall, and joined her. 
 
 'We are both out of it, I see,' he observed 
 as she gave him a welcoming smile. ' Sup- 
 
 VOL. I. 14
 
 2IO SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 pose we find a quiet corner somewhere ;' and 
 Gerda fell innocently into the trap. 
 
 She was a little surprised, however, when 
 Gerard led the way to the morning-room. It 
 had not been used that evenino-. and the fire 
 had burnt low. Gerard took up the poker 
 and stirred it a little noisily, while Gerda 
 stood beside him on the rug. The next 
 moment he threw it down, and took hold of 
 her hands. 
 
 ' Gerda, I want to speak to you — it is no 
 good putting it off any longer. Do you 
 remember that question I asked you in the 
 boat last spring ?' Then she tried to shrink 
 away from him, but his grasp was too strong. 
 * I told you then that I should try again,' he 
 went on, ' and I meant it. You were very 
 hard on me that day, you would not believe 
 that I was in earnest ; but I meant it then, 
 and I mean it a hundred times more now. 
 You will give me a different answer now, 
 dear, will you not ?' 
 
 ' Oh, Gerard, not to-night ! Please do not 
 ask me to-night ;' and there was such a 
 troubled look on her face that he released 
 her hand, and an anxious expression came 
 into his eyes.
 
 GERARD FINDS HIS OPPORTUNITY 211 
 
 ' I have given you plenty of time to think 
 of it,' he returned reproachfully. ' Nine 
 months — that is surely long enough ! You 
 could not have misunderstood me, Gerda. I 
 was always fond of you, but now I would 
 rather have you for my wife than any other 
 girl. You believe that, do you not ?' — 
 speaking very gravely. ' If you will only 
 consent to marry me, you shall never repent 
 it — never.' 
 
 ' Gerard, I cannot - do not ask me !' and 
 Gerda sank into a seat and covered her face 
 with her hands. What were those words 
 that seemed to surge through her brain over 
 and over again ? ' We must do what we 
 think right, even if it give us pain, and leave 
 results. We must do what we think right.' 
 ' I cannot — indeed I cannot !' 
 
 ' But why not ?' he pleaded, and his face 
 became a little pale. * We have always been 
 such friends, you and I. I know you are 
 fond of me, Gerda — you cannot deny that ; 
 and if it's not quite the right feeling, if it has 
 not grown with you as it has with me, it will 
 come, if you are only patient' 
 
 But he seemed speaking to deaf ears. An 
 inner voice was clamouring to be heard too,
 
 212 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 and would not be silenced : ' Follow your 
 conscience ; do what you think to be right 
 and true.' 
 
 'Gerard, I dare not do it. It would be 
 wrong to you as well as to myself. I love 
 you, but not in that way ;' and the agonized 
 sincerity of her voice struck a chill into 
 Gerard's heart. But he would not be baffled 
 yet. This was his last chance, and he must 
 make the most of it. 
 
 ' You think that you do not care for me 
 enough,' he replied gently. ' But suppose I 
 am willing to take the risk of that, and to be 
 content with what you have to give me ?' 
 
 But she shook her head sadly. 
 
 ' Nothing would make it right. I am very 
 sorry, Gerard, but you must give it up. I 
 would do anything for you but this. I would 
 die for you if need be ' — with a quick, loving 
 impulse that she could not resist. But he 
 only answered this by a melancholy smile. 
 
 ' I would rather you lived for me. Gerda, 
 just be patient with me another minute. 1 
 want to get to the bottom of this. Are you 
 afraid that I shall not satisfy you ? Are you 
 giving me this answer because I do not care 
 for all the books and things for which you
 
 GERARD FINDS HIS OPPORTUNITY 213 
 
 care ? Is it because you think I am not 
 clever enough ? I cannot promise to alter — 
 a man must act up to his own nature — but 
 you will be making a grievous mistake if you 
 let this come between us.' 
 
 ' Oh, Gerard, it is not that ;' and for the 
 moment Gerda thought she was speaking the 
 truth. 
 
 * Then what is it ? But there, I will not 
 press you. I always knew you were too 
 good for me, Gerda. I was a fool not to see 
 there was no chance for me.' 
 
 ' I wish I could have answered differently,' 
 
 she sighed. ' But you will not think me too 
 
 •unkind, will you? If you only knew how 
 
 unhappy you have made me, I am sure you 
 
 would forgive me.' 
 
 ' There is nothing to forgive,' he returned 
 hastily. ' I have tried and failed. It is no 
 fault of yours if you cannot make up your 
 mind to take me. Look here, Gerda, I have 
 said my last word ; I would not be such a 
 cad as to persecute you. You have nothing 
 more to fear from me. I shall be Cousin 
 Gerard to the end of the chapter.' 
 
 She bent her head in answer to this, but 
 he could see the slow tears rolline down her 
 
 o
 
 214 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 cheeks. How good he was ! how manly and 
 generous ! How could she find it in her 
 heart to say him nay ? 
 
 ' 1 don't want you to fret about it. I 
 suppose I shall get over it some day — other 
 fellows do. Now I may as well go back to 
 my duties ;' and as she did not look up or 
 make any response, he bent over her and 
 kissed the coronet of soft shining hair. It 
 was the first time he had ever kissed her, 
 and he knew it would be the last. But 
 Gerda was hardly conscious of the act as she 
 wiped the tears away with her handkerchief. 
 It was the first real pain in her young life, 
 and she felt as though she hardly knew how 
 to bear it.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ' YOU HAVE HELPED ME.' 
 
 ' When you are young grief is a tempest which prostrates 
 you ; at mature age it is simply a north wind which adds a 
 wrinkle to your brow and one more white hair to your head.' 
 — Thoughts of a Queen. 
 
 It was nearly three o'clock, and more than 
 one carriage had driven away with its merry 
 chattering occupants, when Dr. Lyall, stray- 
 ing through the deserted rooms in search 
 of his hostess, wandered into the morning- 
 room, attracted by the cheery blaze of the 
 renovated fire. Charlie Seymour was rattling 
 off a lively valse, while the musicians were 
 refreshing themselves, and the indefatigable 
 Pamela was whirling away with Captain 
 Drummond. The other couples had fol- 
 lowed her example, Doris and Gerard among 
 them ; for Gerard, in spite of the dull gnaw-
 
 2i6 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 ing pain at his heart, could not resist Doris's 
 plaintive and appealing blue eyes. ' Please 
 dance with me,' they seemed to say, and 
 with his customary good-nature he had given 
 in. But after all, Doris was not to enjoy 
 her dance ; the first two rounds were perfect, 
 and then she had whispered breathlessly : 
 
 ' I saw you with Gerda just now. Did 
 you do it, Gerard ?' But Gerard tightened 
 his grasp a little convulsively ; he had not 
 expected this. 
 
 ' Hush ! don't ask me, Doey. There is 
 no chance for me now. I wish I had taken 
 your advice ; but one cannot always be wise. 
 Never speak of it again, there's a good girl!' 
 and Gerard's step became so rapid that Doris 
 turned a litde giddy. 
 
 ' I think I will sit down,' she faltered ; ' I 
 am so sorry, Gerard. It was good of you 
 to dance with me !' and then she moved 
 away from him, and sat down with a very 
 sober face. 
 
 Poor Doris ! it was hard on her — on her 
 first party, too. * She has hurt him — oh, she 
 has hurt him dreadfully !' she thought ; and 
 her bosom heaved with indignant sympathy. 
 
 Dr. Lyall had caught the gleam of a white
 
 'YOU HA VE HELPED ME ' 217 
 
 dress in the firelight, and his eyes bright- 
 ened a Httle ; but the next moment he was 
 conscious of a revulsion of feeling. At the 
 sound of his step Gerda had looked up at 
 him, and her eyes were still full of tears. 
 Her paleness and intense agitation were so 
 apparent that, after the first impulse to with- 
 draw, his professional instinct drew him to- 
 wards her. 
 
 ' You are not well ; you have fatigued 
 yourself. Let me fetch you a glass of wine ?' 
 But she put out a cold shaking hand to stop 
 him. 
 
 ' No, thank you, I do not want anything ; 
 I am only a little troubled about something 
 that has happened. It is foolish to cry,' as 
 a large tear fell in her lap, ' I am not often 
 so silly ; but ' She could say no more. 
 
 ' You are tired ; you have danced too 
 much. Why will you persist in thinking 
 yourself so strong ?' returned Dr. Lyall im- 
 patiently. ' When one is low it is impossible 
 to take cheerful views of things. You have 
 been neglecting yourself as usual ; perhaps 
 you have taken no supper ? I will fetch you 
 a little wine and water, and a biscuit.' 
 
 Dr. Lyall's quiet, matter-of-fact tones roused
 
 2i8 SIR GODFRETS GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Gerda. She had a vexed consciousness that 
 he thought her missish, perhaps hysterical ; 
 she could not tell him that real trouble had 
 overtaken her, and made her wretched ; she 
 could not sufficiently control her voice to 
 prove this to him ; she was obliged to let 
 him fetch the wine and water, and as his 
 will was stronger than hers, she was forced 
 to drink it ; but he saw with concern, that, 
 after all, the discomfort was more mental 
 than bodily. 
 
 ' 1 wish I could do something for you,' he 
 said in a kind voice, as he set down the 
 emptied glass. Then he saw a sudden ex- 
 pression of gratitude in her swollen eyes. 
 
 ' You have helped me ; you do not know 
 how much you have helped me,' she replied 
 in so low a voice that he had to stoop to 
 catch her meaning. 
 
 ' I !' he returned in surprise. ' You must 
 make a mistake, Miss Meredith.' 
 
 ' No, indeed !' and her voice became 
 stronger. ' Do you remember what you 
 said to me yesterday on the Chilverton 
 Road ? The words have been ringing in 
 my ears ever since. "We must do the right 
 thing, even if it give us pain." Well, I have
 
 ' YOU HA \'E HELPED ME ' 219 
 
 been putting those words into practice, and 
 it has given me pain — that is all ; but I 
 thank you all the same, Dr. Lyall — I do 
 indeed !' 
 
 He was listening intently, and at one 
 point in her sentence a quick flash of joy 
 came into his eyes, but it faded instantly. 
 
 * I must not pretend to understand you,' 
 he said gravely ; but her meaning was as 
 plain to him as the traces of the tears on 
 her face. ' I was not aware of saying those 
 words to you, but, all the same, I must not 
 disclaim them ; they are true, as heaven 
 above us is true,' with sudden energy. 
 
 ' Yes, I know that now ; they came to 
 me like a light in the darkness. That is 
 why I thanked you for saying them.' 
 
 ' I am glad if they have helped you,' he 
 returned very seriously ; ' but I think,' after 
 a moment's hesitation, ' that you would never 
 go far wrong. You have a more tender 
 conscience than most people, and a truer 
 stnse of honour.' The words seemed wrung 
 from him, somehow ; he was a man who 
 seldom paid compliments, and even in her 
 despondency Gerda felt a thrill of pride as 
 she heard them. ' Now I must bid you
 
 220 SIR GODFRETS GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 good-bye, for everyone will be leaving. I 
 shall not see you again, but ' 
 
 * What will your sister think of me ?' she 
 interrupted. ' I must go to her.' 
 
 * Indeed, you must do nothing of the kind,' 
 was the reply. * I will give her a message 
 — a dozen if you like — but you are only fit 
 to go to your own room.' And Gerda felt 
 the wisdom of this advice. 
 
 ' Very well. Will you give her my love, 
 and ask her to come to-morrow ? Then I 
 shall not see you again, Dr. Lyall ?' 
 
 * I think not — no, I am certain you will 
 not,' forming the instant resolution to keep 
 away from the perilous atmosphere of Chester- 
 ton Hall. 
 
 Gerda had risen as she spoke, and stood 
 looking very slim and young in her white 
 gown. 
 
 * So it is good-bye, you see,' he went on 
 quickly, as he took her hand. ' Take care 
 of yourself, Miss Meredith.' This was all 
 he could find to say, but for many a night 
 he remembered the girl as she stood there 
 before him, with that careworn, weary look 
 on her face. If he had known how soon 
 they were to meet, he would not have gone
 
 ' YOU HA VE HELPED ME ' 221 
 
 away with that sudden weight on his mind. 
 As it was, he only called himself a fool, 
 and addressed a few crushing remarks to 
 Pamela, when, with her usual want of tact, 
 she questioned him about his gravity. She 
 punished him, however, by receiving Gerda s 
 message very coolly. 
 
 ' Mrs. Meredith and Doris both asked 
 me,' she replied curtly. ' I have promised 
 to go to luncheon, and Gertrude is to come 
 too. They want us to help entertain the 
 gentlemen ; they do not leave before the after- 
 noon train. And Doris says there are too 
 many for her and her sister to manage.' 
 
 ' It is a good thing you are going to take 
 Pamela home, Dr. Lyall,' observed Mrs. 
 Hake mischievously. ' I think that poor 
 Mr. Vincent ought to have a hint given him. 
 I am not quite sure he would have approved 
 of that flirtation with Mr. Seymour. In my 
 time an engaged girl never danced more than 
 twice with the same gentleman.' 
 
 ' As you are both so disagreeable, I shall 
 go to bed/ returned Pamela, with dignity. 
 ' Alick is as cross as two sticks — not that that 
 is anything new, only he is generally better- 
 tempered before people — and as for you,
 
 222 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Gertrude, matrimony has not improved you. 
 — I am sorry to speak so plainly, Captain 
 Hake, but you ought to keep your wife in 
 better order.' 
 
 And, with this parting fling, Pamela with- 
 drew to sit by her fire in her smart dressing- 
 eown, and read over Derrick Vincent's last 
 letter for the fifth time ; and as she laid it 
 down there was a pucker on her forehead. 
 
 * If Derrick were not so Derrick-like!' she 
 muttered. ' I begin to despair of him. He 
 will never alter — no more shall I. Oh, why 
 — why did I ever care for him if he is ahvays 
 going to make me miserable ?' and Pamela's 
 eyebrows nearly met her hair as she sat there 
 staring into the fire, until she looked like a 
 little old witch in her striped scarlet and black 
 peignoir. 
 
 ' She has refused him,' was Dr. Lyall's last 
 waking thought before he fell asleep in the 
 dark wintry morning. 'It is strange ! But, 
 then, women do act strangely — one can 
 never predicate their actions with certainty. 
 I should have said any girl would be safe and 
 happy with Hamlyn. But there, it is no con- 
 cern of mine. Why should I pretend to be 
 glad ? As though her refusing another man
 
 'YOU HA VE HELPED ME' 223 
 
 had anything to do with me ! I vow it will be 
 a long time before I take a week's holiday 
 again, unless I go abroad. Pamela shall not 
 wheedle me to Braeside again in a hurry ;' 
 and as Dr. Lyall registered this mental vow 
 he turned over and fell asleep. 
 
 Gerda had slipped away to her room, and 
 Doris was the bearer of her excuses : ' Gerda 
 had a headache, and was too tired to come 
 down. She wished them all good-night.' But 
 Doris faltered over her little speech, and 
 looked very guilty as she caught Gerard's 
 eye. 
 
 ' Oh, Gerda ! how could you go and do it ?' 
 she had began reproachfully when she found 
 her sister alone, but Gerda cut her short. 
 
 * Doris, I cannot talk to you to-night ; you 
 must say nothing to me — not one word !' and 
 then she had given her message and closed 
 her door, disregarding Doris's piteous look. 
 But her heart smote her, and she opened it 
 again. ' Kiss me, Dorrie dear, and say 
 good-night. And don't look so miserable ; 
 it will not help me, or him either ;' and her lip 
 quivered as she turned away. 
 
 Gerda knew that she would have a difficult 
 part to play the next day, and would need all
 
 224 SIR GODFRETS GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 her strength to play it well. Gerard would 
 not tell his uncle of the failure of his hopes 
 until their guests had left the Hall, and it 
 would tax all their ingenuity to act so 
 naturally that Sir Godfrey's sharp old eyes 
 should detect nothing wrong. Sir Godfrey 
 had indeed put a question, when the young 
 men had betaken themselves to the smoking- 
 room, and Gerard had lingered behind them 
 for a moment. 
 
 * I suppose you have nothing to tell me 
 that would interest me, eh, Gerard ?' with a 
 keen look at his nephew. 
 
 ' No, sir ; I believe not,' was the quiet 
 reply, and Sir Godfrey looked disappointed. 
 Nevertheless, he went off to bed, happily 
 quite unconscious that Gerard had played his 
 last card. 
 
 ' In my time a young fellow would not 
 have shilly-shallied as Gerard is doing,' he 
 grumbled, as he took the loose silver out of 
 his pocket and regarded it admiringly — it was 
 his winnings, the money he had duly and 
 lawfully earned by his own skilful play. 
 * " Strike while the iron is hot !" is my motto. 
 " Blow cold, blow hot," never answered in 
 love matters. Young men are too lazy to
 
 ' YOU HA VE HELPED ME' 225 
 
 make love properly nowadays ; they think 
 they have only got to beckon to a girl, and 
 she will come to their call like a tame grey- 
 hound.' 
 
 Gerard would willingly have gone to bed, 
 too ; he felt fagged in body and mind. But 
 his guests held a different opinion. 
 
 ' We must have a pipe and a palaver, old 
 fellow !' remonstrated Charlie Seymour, and 
 Gerard had to take his part in the lively dis- 
 cussion that followed. 
 
 Breakfast was not until a late hour the 
 next morning, and Gerda, who always poured 
 out the tea and coffee, found the large silver 
 urn a very sufficient screen. Charlie Sey- 
 mour, who was the first to arrive on the scene, 
 thought both the young ladies were un- 
 accountably grave. Doris, who shared her 
 sister's depression, was quite monosyllabic in 
 her replies. 
 
 ' I expect their mother has given them a 
 wigging,' thought the astute youth after a 
 stolen glance at Gerda's lowered eyelids and 
 Doris's frightened blue eyes. ' Never trust 
 a soft-spoken woman who seems as though 
 butter would not melt in her mouth. She is 
 pretty sure to be a termagant in private.' 
 
 VOL. I. 15
 
 226 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 But, happily oblivious of this criticism, 
 Mrs. Meredith at this moment smiled so 
 sweetly at him that Charlie grew red and 
 stammered some sort of reply. 
 
 * Doris and I are so tired. I wish you 
 would talk for us,' whispered Gerda ; and 
 Charlie nodded a cheerful assent. 
 
 For the rest of breakfast-time his lively 
 flow of nonsense never ceased ; and when the 
 meal was over, he challenged the gentlemen 
 to another tennis-match, leaving the girls to 
 huddle over the fire in their easy-chairs, with 
 their work and books, while Mrs. Meredith 
 and the servants tried to bring order out of 
 the chaotic ball-room of last night. 
 
 Doris tried vainly to make Gerda talk, but 
 the latter obstinately refused to open her lips ; 
 so Doris at last went off in despair to her 
 mother's help, until Mrs. Hake and Pamela 
 arrived — looking blooming from a long walk 
 in the cold air, and both ready for a long, 
 delicious gossip. 
 
 Things went more comfortably after this. 
 Pamela and Charlie Seymour renewed their 
 flirtation of the previous evening, and during 
 luncheon Charlie was seen to take his dandy 
 pocket-book out and write an address :
 
 'YOU HA VE HELPED ME ' 227 
 
 * " Roadside, Cromehurst." Thanks awfully, 
 Miss Lyall. I will be sure to look your 
 brother up when I am in town. My people 
 live in Yorkshire, you know, but now and 
 then my father takes a house for the season 
 when the mater and the girls bully him into 
 it. I am rather a wandering satellite myself 
 — here, there, and everywhere, as the im- 
 mortal Miss Mowcher remarks. Well, well, 
 man wants but little here below, but wants 
 that little hot, as one of our fellows said 
 when the butler offered him cold buttered 
 toast ; for it stands to reason, Miss Lyall, 
 that if you are you, and I I, as Kant tries to 
 
 prove ' and so on, much to the delight 
 
 and mystification of Pamela, who dearly 
 loved a joke. 
 
 Pamela, who was always candid, and never 
 tried to disguise her real sentiments, averred 
 an open and decided preference for the 
 society of the stronger sex. ' I never met 
 more than half a dozen women in the whole 
 course of my existence,' she was once heard 
 to remark, ' who really interested me, and to 
 whom I could talk for more than half an 
 hour without a mental yawn. Women are 
 either too frivolous or too serious,' continued
 
 228 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 the young philosopher. ' There is no happy 
 medium. It is either dress, servants or the 
 kingdom of heaven.' For Pamela was not 
 orthodox, and would at times startle her 
 hearers with daring paradoxes or trite say- 
 ings, which wholly lacked reverence ; but 
 then, as Pamela was the first to allow, she 
 had no bump of reverence. 
 
 Pamela had really no time to bestow on 
 Gerda until the fascinating Charlie and the 
 rest of the gentlemen had taken their leave, 
 and then she accosted her with her usual 
 abruptness. 
 
 ' What is the matter, Miss Meredith ? You 
 look utterly fagged, as though you had been 
 dancing for three nights in succession. Why, 
 Gertrude and I are as fresh as possible ! I 
 believe I can do with less sleep than most 
 people ;' and she looked inquisitively, but not 
 unkindly, at Gerda as she spoke. 
 
 ' You forget how unused we are to gaiety,' 
 replied Gerda, colouring a little under this 
 scrutiny. ' Doris and I feel quite dissipated. 
 Are you going by the early train to-morrow ?* 
 
 * I suppose so. Alick has turned restless 
 — I may say fidgety — and even grudges me 
 time for packing. It is no use my telling
 
 'YOU HAVE HELPED ME' 229 
 
 him that I dislike to hurry myself. When 
 my lord is in this mood, argument only makes 
 him worse. By-the-bye, he desires his kind 
 regards — let me see : *' Please to remember 
 me very kindly to Mrs. Meredith, and to 
 every member of the family " — yes, I think 
 those were his very words.' 
 
 ' Please remember us to him,' returned 
 Gerda hurriedly. 
 
 ' Very well, if I do not forget. Dear me ! 
 Gertrude is wrapping herself up in her furs. 
 Don't you love sable, Miss Meredith ? I 
 think I share the love of a pussy-cat for soft, 
 warm things. If I had that mantle I should 
 always be stroking myself and purring with 
 enjoyment. Well, good-bye ; I see we have 
 to go. I would much rather stay and talk to 
 you ; but att. revoir f and, in spite of her 
 flippant talk, there was real womanliness and 
 hearty good-will in the kiss she gave Gerda. 
 
 As Gerda turned away from the door, she 
 saw Gerard close behind her. He had not 
 approached her the whole of the day, though 
 there had been nothing pointed in his avoid- 
 ance of her ; but now she saw that he had 
 something to say to her. 
 
 * They are all off now,' he began hurriedly,
 
 230 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 as she waited for a moment, * and I am 
 thankful to get rid of them. They are capital 
 fellows, ail of them ; but, really, Seymour gets 
 worse and worse. The way he has carried 
 on all day is enough to make one's head 
 ache. I believe Uncle Godfrey was quite 
 shocked once or twice.' 
 
 * He is very nice and very kind-hearted, 
 and no one minds his fun.' 
 
 * Miss Lyall did not, certainly ;' and then 
 Gerard stopped and cleared his throat, and 
 then began again : * Look here, Gerda, I 
 want to say something ; it is no use putting 
 it off. Uncle Godfrey is bound to know, and 
 we may as well get it over. One day is as 
 good as another when one has anything 
 disagreeable to do ;' and Gerard gave an 
 uneasy laugh. 
 
 * You may tell him whenever you like, 
 Gerard. You are quite right ; procrastination 
 never helped anyone yet.' 
 
 * Thanks ; I thought you would agree with 
 me. Uncle Godfrey will put himself and 
 everyone else in a fuss — he always does, 
 you know — but you need not mind it ; and, 
 Gerda, while we are about it, I may just as 
 well say one thing more — if it will make you
 
 YOU HAVE HELPED ME' 
 
 more comfortable, I will go away for a bit ; 
 I'll run up to town and have a look round, 
 and perhaps Seymour will ask me down to 
 Airdale.' 
 
 * There is no need for you to go away,' 
 returned Gerda, in a distressed tone ; out he 
 would not let her finish. 
 
 * It will make things easier for us both, 
 and when I come back we will try and forget 
 all about this ;' and Gerard nodded to her 
 with his old kind smile, and turned on his 
 heel and went straight to the library, where 
 Sir Godfrey was dozing over his book. 
 
 Gerda caught her breath with a little sob 
 as she looked after him, and asked herself, 
 for the twentieth time, why a girl's heart 
 should be made so hard, and why she could 
 not love this simple, loyal gentleman, w^ith 
 his true English nature — at once so honest 
 and so brave. And Doris, sitting by the 
 fireside, was thinking much the same thing. 
 
 * No one but Gerda would have done it,' 
 she sighed. 
 
 Gerda stood for a few moments in silent 
 debate with herself; then she joined her 
 mother and sister. 
 
 ' Mother,' she said impulsively, * I have
 
 232 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 something to tell you that will give you pain. 
 — No, Dorrie, you need not go away ' — as 
 Doris rose, and then re-seated herself on a 
 stool at her sister's feet. ' Last night you 
 thought me unkind, but I was too unhappy 
 to talk. — Mother, it is all over between me 
 and Gerard. He has spoken to me again, 
 and it is for the last time.' 
 
 ' You have refused him ? Oh, Gerda, 
 Gerda!' and Mrs. Meredith sank back in her 
 chair, and all her strength left her. What 
 was the use of bringing daughters into the 
 world if they were to inflict such bitter dis- 
 appointment as this ? 
 
 ' I suppose so ; there was nothing else to 
 do. I could not wrong either him or myself. 
 If I had accepted him, it would have been a 
 grievous sin against truth. Oh, it was quite 
 simple,' went on Gerda in a rapt, monotonous 
 tone, as though the fireside circle had an 
 unseen hearer, to whom she was addressing 
 herself; * it was plain as daylight ; one could 
 make no mistake. There can only be one 
 right and one wrong,' she finished, repeating 
 almost unconsciously the doctor's words. 
 
 ^ I don't know what you mean, Gerda,' re- 
 turned her mother angrily, for she thought
 
 'YOU HA VE HELPED ME ' 233 
 
 her daughter was singularly perverse. ' You 
 were always as fond of Gerard as possible. 
 I remember your grandfather used to call you 
 Gerard's little wife when you were a mere 
 child, and now, just for a girlish whim or 
 fancy, you have thrown him over, and upset 
 the peace of the household.' And Mrs. 
 Meredith looked so flushed and perturbed as 
 she spoke that Charlie Seymour would hardly 
 have thought himself wrong in his uncharit- 
 able criticism. 
 
 Doris gave her sister's hand a loving little 
 squeeze. She was sorely divided in her 
 sympathies. Her heart was aching for 
 Gerard's disappointment, and last night she 
 had been inclined to be hard on Gerda. But 
 the distress on Gerda's face softened her. 
 
 * You could not help it, could you, dear ?' 
 she whispered. 
 
 ' I think Gerda could have helped it if she 
 had taken a little longer time for decision,' 
 observed Mrs. Meredith with illogical severity, 
 for of all women she was the last to advocate 
 matrimony without love. But what is the use 
 of being a woman if one is forced to study 
 logic ? * When so much depends on it, when 
 the peace of an entire household is at stake.
 
 234 SIR GODFREYS GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 there should certainly be more time given for 
 consideration. There was no need to give 
 Gerard a decided answer.' 
 
 * Dear mother,' returned Gerda with praise- 
 worthy gentleness, ' would that be treating 
 Gerard well — does he not deserve everything 
 that I can give him ? Would it add to his 
 peace of mind or better ensure his ultimate 
 recover}^ if I had left him in suspense for 
 weeks ?' 
 
 ' It would have given him a chance of 
 winning you.' 
 
 * No, mother, no ; you are wrong, and 
 Gerard would not agree with you. Neither 
 weeks nor months would make any difference : 
 as soon as I was sure of my own mind, I 
 was right to give him his answer. Mother 
 dear, it is no use talking about it. It is a 
 grievous pity, but it cannot be helped. Doris 
 knows 1 have tried my best for Gerard.' 
 
 ' Oh, if Doris was in your confidence ' 
 
 began Mrs. Meredith rather stiffly. 
 
 * Doris was in Gerard's confidence, were 
 you not, Dorrie ?' for she had long suspected 
 this ; and Doris hung her head and blushed. 
 * Mother, you are looking at this from Grand's 
 point of view — you are not talking like your
 
 \'YOU HAVE HELPED ME' 235 
 
 dear self at all ;' and at this touching appeal 
 Mrs. Meredith's motherly soul seemed to 
 melt within her. 
 
 ' I am so unhappy, Gerda, but, after all, it 
 is not your fault, you poor child !' and here 
 there was the full kiss of reconciliation with 
 which women always seal their compacts. 
 ' Affection is not to be forced, but it will be 
 very uncomfortable for us all.' 
 
 ' Gerard wants to go away,' observed Gerda 
 in a low voice ; ' he says it will make things 
 easier. But, mother ' — as Doris's face grew 
 very long at this — ' I would rather go away 
 myself. Grand will not be nice to me for a 
 long time ; he will treat me as though I have 
 committed some heinous crime that must shut 
 me out of his favour. Gerard's going away 
 will not help to make home pleasanter to me, 
 but if I take refuge with Aunt Clare the storm 
 will soon blow over.' 
 
 * But we shall lose you, Gerda,' returned 
 her mother sorrowfully, for she never liked 
 to part with her girls ; they were the only 
 consolations of the widow's heart. In their 
 youth and brightness she found her best 
 happiness. There were times when she 
 hardly knew which she loved best. She was
 
 236 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 more sure of Doris's sympathy, which was, 
 indeed, never failing ; but she relied more on 
 Gerda's strength. 
 
 * It will not be for long,' replied Gerda in a 
 coaxing voice, for she was bent on having 
 her way. 
 
 Aunt Clare was a friend for adversity, she 
 knew. She had one of those strong, helpful 
 natures which are so restful to weaker folk, 
 and she was never too busy to listen to other 
 people's troubles. 
 
 ' You must tell Grand that you would like 
 me to go to Aunt Clare for a little,' continued 
 Gerda decidedly; and then Mrs. Meredith 
 sighed, and promised that she would do her 
 best.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 SIR GODFREY HAS A TOUCH OF GOUT. 
 
 ' If you are going to visit the wolf, take your dogs with 
 you.' — Proverb of Montenegro. 
 
 ' In growing old we become more foolish — and more wise.' 
 —La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 While Gerda was discussing her future plans 
 somewhat soberly with her mother and sister, 
 Gerard was having rather a bad time with 
 Sir Godfrey. 
 
 A threatened touch of gout, which had 
 just heralded its approach by a premonitory 
 twinge or two, had by no means sweetened 
 Sir Godfrey's temper, and on Gerard's broad 
 shoulders fell the first shock of the old man's 
 bitter disappointment. 
 
 Gerard bore it for some minutes with his 
 usual passive good-nature, only shrugging his 
 shoulders when a more angry invective or
 
 238 SIR GODFRETS GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 hard cutting speech reached his ears, but he 
 presently entered his protest. 
 
 ' After all, Uncle Godfrey,' he remarked 
 coolly, ' the disappointment is more mine than 
 yours. There is not the slightest need for all 
 this vituperation. If you excite yourself in 
 this unseemly manner, you will only bring on 
 an attack of gout. All the talk in the world 
 will not mend matters. Gerda has a right to 
 say whom she will or will not marry, and it is 
 no blame to her if she cannot make up her 
 mind to take me. I shall certainly not give 
 her the chance of refusing me again/ for this 
 was the line of action that Sir Godfrey was 
 pressing on his grand-nephew. * I am not 
 quite such an ass as that. I have done all I 
 can to carry out your wishes and my own too, 
 and it Is no fault of mine that I have failed.' 
 
 * I am not blaming you,' retorted Sir 
 Godfrey angrily, for this manly expostulation 
 was not without effect on him. ' I am only 
 disgusted that any girl should have had the 
 bad taste to refuse you. It Is just Gerda's 
 obstinacy ; she has always been obstinate 
 from a child ; her mother has spoilt her ; she 
 has given way to her in everything, and this 
 is the result.'
 
 SIR GODFREY HAS A TOUCH OF GOUT 239 
 
 * I cannot say that I agree with you,' 
 replied Gerard ; ' you are a little bit down 
 just now, but by-and-by, when you think 
 over things quietly, you will take a different 
 view of it all. Look here. Uncle Godfrey, 
 I must just say one thing — I hope you do 
 not mean to speak to Gerda about this ; it 
 will do no good, and only increase the general 
 discomfort. I think I have the right to ask 
 this.' 
 
 * You may tell the girl that I wash my 
 hands of her and the whole business from 
 this day forth,' returned Sir Godfrey irritably; 
 ' she is an ungrateful child, and I shall take 
 no farther trouble with her. My little Dorrie 
 is worth two of her. Mark my words, 
 Gerard, one day she will repent of this 
 foolish conduct, and then my young lady 
 will be trying to lure you back. Could you 
 not make love to someone else, just in pre- 
 tence, you know ? There is nothing a woman 
 will not do to oust a rival' 
 
 But as Gerard refused somewhat shortly 
 to do any such thing, Sir Godfrey lapsed into 
 fretful sullenness. 
 
 ' I told you so, mother,' observed Gerda 
 wearily, as they stood by the drawing-room
 
 240 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 fire. They had just risen from the dinner- 
 table, but Doris and Gerard had not followed 
 them. ' I am to be sent to Coventry. 
 Grand will not speak to me or look at me. 
 Of course, Rogers and Dalton know that I 
 am in disgrace. Dalton was so sorry for me 
 that he handed me the vanilla cream twice. 
 There was something quite persuasive in his 
 manner as he brought it the second time, 
 and when I refused it he looked quite 
 sorrowful.' 
 
 'If all our meals are to be like this,* 
 sighed Mrs. Meredith, ' I think I shall plead 
 indisposition, and absent myself from the 
 table. Every mouthful that I took seemed 
 to choke me. Your grandfather is angry 
 with me as well as with you. When any- 
 thing goes wrong, it is always I who have 
 to bear the blame. He will open his mouth 
 to neither of us — I can see that plainly.' 
 
 * Poor dear mother ! and it is all my fault ;' 
 and Gerda kissed her remorsefully. ' I wish 
 I were a good girl like Doris. Doris will 
 never make anyone's heart ache ; but never 
 mind, Grand will not long be vexed with you 
 — you are too necessary to his comfort ; he 
 cannot do without you. If he will not speak
 
 SIR GODFREY HAS A TOUCH OF GOUT 24] 
 
 to me, I must just speak to him, that is all ;* 
 and the very next day Gerda carried out 
 her intention. Gerda had never been afraid 
 of her grandfather : her keen young eyes 
 had long ago taken his true measure — his 
 dignity, his arbitrary will and hot temper — 
 and his small, narrow views of life were 
 regarded by her with pitying toleration. In 
 her independent, girlish fashion she had been 
 good to him ; but she had never comported 
 herself towards him with Doris's meek sub- 
 mission. If Sir Godfrey had ordered Doris 
 to marry her cousin she would have opened 
 her blue eyes with intense amazement, and 
 would have accepted him without a moment's 
 hesitation ; but, then, Doris had no indefinite 
 yearnings after an ideal, and in an unconscious, 
 simple way she already loved Gerard, though 
 neither she nor he guessed that fact. Doris 
 was one of those happy-minded people who 
 can suit themselves to any environment ; 
 one could predict safely that she would make 
 a cheerful old maid or a proud wife and 
 mother, whichever condition Providence 
 might allot to her. And yet, in her own sweet 
 maidenly way, Doris had her aspirations. 
 * It must be so nice to be very, very fond 
 VOL. I. 16
 
 242 SIR GODFRErS GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 of someone/ she had once said to Gerda ; 
 but even this modest hint cost Doris many 
 blushes. 
 
 Sir Godfrey looked up with cold surprise 
 when Gerda entered the library. It was not 
 possible for him to be more erect — his stiff 
 old back was always rigidly upright ; but 
 there was something majestic and judicial 
 in the way he laid down his book and 
 regarded his grand -daughter, and there was 
 withering sarcasm in the tone in which he 
 said : 
 
 * I was not aware that I sent for you, Gerda.' 
 But Gerda was equal to the occasion, and 
 
 there was no temper in her voice as she 
 answered : 
 
 ' No, grandfather, and I am afraid that 
 you do not want to see me ; but there is 
 something that I must say to you.' 
 
 * Indeed!' and, after drawling out this 
 word. Sir Godfrey took up his book again. 
 
 Under such circumstances her mother 
 and Doris would have retired humbly ; but 
 Gerda had too much spirit to submit to in- 
 justice ; she intended Sir Godfrey to listen 
 to her, and if he wished to be uncivil and 
 keep his eyes on his book, he could not
 
 SIR GODFREY HAS A TOUCH OF GOUT 243 
 
 protect his ears without absolute rudeness, 
 so she went on without hesitation : 
 
 ' Of course I see you are angry with me, 
 Grand — anyone could see that, when you 
 take so little trouble to hide it ; but there 
 Is no need for you to be angry with mother, 
 too : she wanted me to marry Gerard quite 
 as much as you did, only, being a woman, she 
 is a little more reasonable about it. In these 
 sort of cases women understand each other 
 best.' 
 
 Sir Godfrey settled his pince-nez more 
 firmly on his nose, and glared at his grand- 
 daughter. His finely - formed old hand 
 trembled slightly during the process. 
 
 * Did you intrude yourself Into my presence 
 to talk about your mother ?' he asked, in a 
 cutting tone. 'With regard to yourself, I 
 have nothing to say — nothing at all ; and I 
 beg,' somewhat hastily, 'that you will not 
 seat yourself. When I was young, children 
 used to stand until their parents desired 
 them to sit down. Ah, you may smile,' as 
 Gerda s lip curled a little. ' I am quite 
 aware that obedience to parents, and re- 
 verence, and courtesy, have gone out of 
 fashion — out of fashion.'
 
 244 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 ' There is no need for me to sit down. I 
 never mind standing/ replied Gerda quietly 
 — and, indeed, her slim young figure seemed 
 to require no support. ' I am glad we did 
 not live in those dark ages, Grand. Children 
 could hardly have loved their parents in those 
 days, if they did not venture to sit in their 
 presence — and I think love is better than 
 anything.' 
 
 * Oh, you think so, do you ? Have you 
 anything further to remark ?' 
 
 ' Yes, dear, a great deal more/ she returned 
 cheerfully. ' I want to tell you how sorry I 
 am to disappoint you and mother — as to poor 
 Gerard, I am more than sorry for him — but it 
 cannot be helped. One must be true to one's 
 conscience before everything. I cannot love 
 Gerard well enough to marry him, and I was 
 obliged to tell him so. The whole thing is 
 between him and me — no one has any right 
 to meddle with it, or to be angry.' 
 
 But this clear and sensible statement did 
 not commend itself to Sir Godfrey, and a 
 sudden twinge of gout and conscience to- 
 gether lent anger to his tone. 
 
 ' I have every right to be angry,' he 
 returned, bringing down his hand sharply on
 
 SIR GODFREY HAS A TOUCH OF GOUT 245 
 
 the table. ' Who has a better right, 1 should 
 like to know ? Have I not fed and clothed 
 you from your babyhood ? Is it not my roof 
 that shelters you and your mother and sister ? 
 Is it not my bread you eat ? And what 
 return do you make me ? You thwart me in 
 my dearest wish — ^just for a girlish whim, or 
 obstinacy, you refuse the finest young fellow 
 in the world ; and yet I am not to tell you to 
 your face that you are an ungrateful girl.' 
 
 ' You may tell me what you like, Grand,' 
 returned Gerda rather sadly. ' I think I 
 mind your hard words less than your silence 
 — silence can be so cruelly hard ; but, all the 
 same, there seems little use in speaking such 
 words. When two people look at the same 
 thing from different points of view there can 
 be no agreement. You choose to think,' she 
 went on, after a moment, ' that I have refused 
 Gerard out of mere perversity. How am I 
 to persuade you to the contrary ? I might 
 talk for an hour, and you would not under- 
 stand me ! I think,' folding her hands 
 together, and looking down with a graceful 
 patience in her attitude, ' that it would be 
 wiser and better to keep my thovights to 
 myself.'
 
 246 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 ' I think so, too, and that we may as well 
 close this interview. I have nothing else to 
 say to you, Gerda. You have disappointed 
 me, and you cannot be surprised if I lose 
 interest in you.' 
 
 ' No,' in a slow, pondering voice. ' I ought 
 not to be surprised when I remember Aunt 
 Clare.' And as an uneasy flush came to 
 Sir Godfrey's brow at the mention of his 
 daughter's name, she continued quickly : 
 * There is one thing I must speak to you 
 about — that I think you ought to hear — and 
 that is, that Gerard talks of going away.' 
 
 * In other words, you are driving him from 
 his home.' 
 
 ' If you put it in that way, I suppose I 
 must say "yes." But I think it is for me to 
 go — not for him.' 
 
 ' I think so, too !' and Sir Godfrey evi- 
 dently meant what he said, for he hated to 
 part with Gerard. 
 
 ' May I go to Aunt Clare, then ? It will be 
 far, far better for you and Gerard, and every- 
 one, if I go away. Mother will fret herself 
 ill with worry ; and Doris will be as miser- 
 able as possible. And I tell you frankly, 
 Grand, that if you cannot bring yourself
 
 SIR GODFREY HAS A TOUCH OF GOUT 247 
 
 to forgive me, I would rather not stay at 
 home. It is not pleasant to see the servants 
 finding out one's little secrets — and if you 
 will not speak to me at meal-times, of course 
 they will know all about it.' 
 
 Sir Godfrey put up his hand to silence her. 
 
 * I have had enough of this chattering,' he 
 said curtly. ' You may go where you like, 
 and stay away as long as you like. This is 
 the last word I mean to say on the subject. 
 When Gerard comes in from the farm you 
 may send him to me ;' and this time Sir 
 Godfrey took up his book with a determined 
 air, and turned his back on his grand- 
 daughter. 
 
 Gerda quietly withdrew. She had said 
 all she wanted to say, and had obtained her 
 end — permission to go to her aunt Clare ; 
 the interview, unpleasant as it had been, had 
 not depressed her. Her grandfather had 
 said hard things to her, but she had expected 
 him to say them ; she must give him time to 
 get over his disappointment ; when she had 
 gone away they would all settle down 
 comfortably, and in time he would forgive 
 her. 
 
 When she gave the message to Gerard,
 
 248 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 half an hour later, he looked at her search- 
 ingly. 
 
 * You ought not to have gone near him,' 
 he said reproachfully. ' You must leave me 
 to fight your battles.' 
 
 * There was something that I was obliged 
 to ask him/ she replied apologetically. 
 * Thank you, Gerard, for what you have 
 done for me. Grand is terribly angry ; but 
 I dare say it will only be for a time.' 
 
 ' All the same, you ought to have left him 
 to me ;' and then Gerard went off to the 
 library. But a little later he came out with 
 a perturbed face, and went in search of his 
 cousin. Her found her in the morning-room 
 sorting some music. 
 
 ' Gerda,' he said abruptly, * I want you to 
 tell me the truth. Is it your own wish to go 
 to Cromehurst, or is Uncle Godfrey sending 
 you away for the purpose of keeping me 
 here ? It is impossible to find out anything, 
 when he rambles on in that roundabout 
 fashion. He was so incoherent that I told 
 him at last that I should come and ask you 
 the question. Gerda, you know there is no 
 need for this at all. I told you yesterday 
 that I should go away.'
 
 SIR GODFREY HAS A TOUCH OF GOUT 249 
 
 * But if I really want to go ?' she pleaded. 
 ' Gerard, you don't know how I long for 
 Aunt Clare. I am so fond of her. She is like 
 a dear elder sister more than an aunt ; and 
 she is such a comfortable person when one is 
 in any little trouble or difficulty. Grand 
 made no objection when I asked him : '' You 
 may go where you like, and stay away as 
 long as you like." Surely no permission 
 could be more gracious;' but Gerda's joke 
 was a little forced. 
 
 ' He has got the gout coming on, and it 
 does not improve his temper. I should 
 advise you not to interpret his speeches too 
 literally ; he will come round before long. 
 If it be really your own wish to go to Aunt 
 Clare, of course I will not prevent you ;' and 
 as Gerda looked at him gratefully, he went 
 back to his uncle. 
 
 If Gerda wished to go she should go, and 
 he would never let her know that it was 
 irksome for him to stay at home. To be sure, 
 he had his duties, and perhaps nursing his 
 uncle through an attack of gout might be one 
 of them ; but, all the same, he would rather 
 have run up to town and seen a little life 
 with some of his chums. It would be rather
 
 250 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 deadly staying on at the Hall with Gerda 
 away and Sir Godfrey in a bad temper ; but 
 he would remain at his post, for all that, and 
 by-and-by he would get his fling. 
 
 Gerda did not let the grass grow under 
 her feet. She wrote that very night to her 
 aunt, and two days afterwards she received 
 the warmest invitation. 
 
 * You will be as welcome as flowers in 
 May, darling,' wrote Mrs. Glyn. ' Your 
 uncle Horace looked quite pleased when I 
 gave him your message. '* Let her come 
 as soon as she likes, and stop as long as 
 possible." Those were his very words. 
 Want of hospitality was never one of my 
 good husband's faults.' 
 
 Mrs. Meredith had a quiet little cry over 
 this letter. 
 
 * Clare is my only sister,' she observed 
 plaintively. 'It is very hard that we so 
 seldom meet. When we were girls, we 
 were everything to each other. If only 
 she had not married your uncle Horace !' 
 
 ' I think she was quite right to marry him,' 
 returned Gerda, with youthful brusquerie, 
 for she always defended her aunt. * It is 
 not very nice for her to come here without
 
 SIR GODFREY HAS A TOUCH OF GOUT 251 
 
 her husband. And then Grand is not kind 
 to her — he always finds fault with everything 
 she says, and puts her down unmercifully. 
 Why do you not go to Cromehurst, mother ? 
 She would love to have you.' 
 
 * Yes, Clare is a good creature,' replied 
 Mrs. Meredith, with another sigh, and then 
 she let the subject drop. It was not easy 
 for her to explain to her daughter that the 
 society of her brother-in-law was singularly 
 distasteful to her. Clare was her own sister, 
 and even her faults were dear to her, but 
 there could be no comfort for her under the 
 roof of Horace Glyn. 
 
 Gerda began her preparations as soon as 
 she received her aunt's letter ; and one even- 
 ing, about a week after the dance, she put 
 the finishing touches to a tea-cloth that she 
 was embroidering for Mrs. Glyn, while 
 Doris sat on the other side of the fireplace, 
 watching her with a disconsolate face, while 
 the well-filled trunk stood open beside her. 
 
 * I do hate you to go away, Gerda,' she 
 said at last. 
 
 Gerda looked up quickly. 
 ' I don't think you will be dull, Dorrie. 
 Gerard will give you plenty of his company.
 
 252 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Remember, you have promised to take Waif 
 out every day ; and then there are the birds 
 and the ferns. I shall write to you very 
 often, and you must tell me all about mother 
 and Gerard.' 
 
 But Doris was not to be comforted so 
 easily. She was in a lugubrious mood, and 
 there were uneasy thoughts at work in her 
 girlish head. 
 
 ' I don't suppose Gerard will be good 
 company,' she returned. * He will be missing 
 you every moment of the day. If I could 
 only be a little more like you, Gerda ! but I 
 am such a stupid little thing, and I am sure 
 Gerard thinks so.' 
 
 * I am sure he thinks nothing of the kind f 
 and Gerda laid down her work and regarded 
 Doris's troubled face with admiring kindness. 
 
 ' It seems such a pity that one cannot 
 share one's good qualities with other people,' 
 sighed Doris. ' If one could only grow up 
 to — to the person one wants to please ; but 
 I could never talk as you do, Gerda ; you go 
 so dreadfully deep into things — too deep 
 even for Gerard ; but all the same he likes 
 to listen to you. Gerard does not talk much, 
 but he thinks a great deal'
 
 SIR GODFREY HAS A TOUCH OF GOUT 253 
 
 ' How on earth did you find that out, 
 Dorrie ?' and Gerda's tone expressed extreme 
 surprise. ' I don't believe Gerard thinks as 
 much as — as other men/ 
 
 ' You are mistaken there,' returned Doris, 
 with a knowing nod of her head. ' You do 
 not take the trouble to understand Gerard. 
 He has his ideas about everything, and when 
 he talks to me I always feel as though I 
 should never reach his level ; somehow,' con- 
 tinued Doris, with a painful effort to explain 
 some truth that she dimly realized, ' you 
 are not fair on Gerard. You make up your 
 mind that he does not care for certain things, 
 and he never takes the trouble to undeceive 
 you. Gerard thinks a good deal.' 
 
 * I did not know that you were such a 
 philosopher, Dorrie ;' but Gerda's tone was 
 dubious. * I am not so sure that you are not 
 growing up, after all. Do you know what I 
 read once, and I think you are trying to 
 express much the same thought.'^ — "You 
 cannot teach people to speak your language 
 unless you can speak theirs." I think Gerard 
 and I talk in different languages.' 
 
 * But that may not be Gerard's fault !' 
 
 ' No, dear ; it is far more likely to be
 
 254 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 mine. I have not a word to say against 
 Gerard. Perhaps I shall grow wiser as I 
 grow older, and not expect so much of other 
 people. I know you have a horror of my 
 quotations, but let me read you what I have 
 written down in what I call my thought-book. 
 They are the words of the same wise queen 
 whose saying I repeated just now. She 
 says: "In youth, one is a mediaeval castle, 
 with hidden nooks, secret chambers, mys- 
 terious galleries, trenches and ramparts ; one 
 becomes afterwards a modern mansion, rich, 
 morocco-leathered, elegant, stylish, and only 
 open to the select ; and ultimately a great 
 hall, open to the whole world — a market, a 
 museum, or a cathedral." ' 
 
 ^ I am afraid I do not understand all that,' 
 observed Doris, with a sort of despairing 
 resignation. ' What nice talks you and Aunt 
 Clare will have ! You will not have only 
 stupid little me for audience. I suppose 
 Gerard and I are the modern mansions, and 
 you are the mediaeval castle, with all sorts of 
 subterranean passages ? But in my opinion 
 the museum and the cathedral are far higher 
 and more useful.' 
 
 * So they are, and you are not so stupid as
 
 SIR GODFREY HAS A TOUCH OF GOUT 255 
 
 you make yourself out to be. Come, cheer 
 up, Dorrie ! I am leaving you a grand 
 mission — to take care of mother and Gerard. 
 There, I have finished the border of the tea- 
 cloth. Will not Aunt Clare think it lovely ? 
 and Uncle Horace will rebuke us both. He 
 will tell me that I should have been better 
 employed in visiting the poor and teaching 
 the orphans, and he will rail against Aunt 
 Clare for her love of finery. Now will you 
 help me shut my trunk, and then, as it is 
 late, we had better go to bed.' 
 
 Gerda was to start early the following 
 morning, and Gerard and Doris were to 
 accompany her to the station. Just before 
 the carriage came round she went into the 
 library to bid Sir Godfrey good-bye. He 
 received her rather coldly, and her kiss met 
 with slight response. 
 
 * I suppose you will send your love to 
 Aunt Clare, Grand ?' she asked as she stood 
 by him a moment. She quite understood 
 that she was not yet forgiven, and expected 
 no special softness from him ; but he was old 
 and ailing, and she could make allowances 
 for him. 
 
 * Oh yes, you may give her my love. I
 
 256 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 suppose she will come and see us some time 
 this summer, if she can tear herself away 
 from her husband ? She may bring one or 
 two of the children with her if she wishes 
 to do so ; but your mother will settle all 
 that. There, I hear the carriage. I must 
 beg that you do not keep the horses waiting 
 a moment — not one moment ;' but Gerda 
 still lingered. 
 
 * Won't you say something kind to me 
 before I go, Grand ? Are you still so very 
 angry with me ?' 
 
 ' You have disappointed me/ was his sole 
 reply ; but he did not add that it was not 
 in his nature to brook such disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 Gerda looked at him for a moment ; then 
 she smoothed back the gray hair from the 
 high, narrow forehead, and kissed him gently 
 between his eyes. 
 
 * Good-bye, dear, you will not always be 
 hard on me,' she answered ; ' at least, I 
 hope not ;' and then she went in quest of 
 her mother. 
 
 She was rather silent during the drive, 
 and Gerard talked more to Doris than to 
 her. But as he settled her in the train,
 
 SIR GODFREY HAS A TOUCH OF GOUT 257 
 
 and arranged her rug for her, he said in a 
 low voice : 
 
 ' You will not stay very long away, 
 Gerda ?' 
 
 ' I do not know ; I have not thought about 
 it,' she answered ; but as she spoke a curious 
 feeling crept over her — a sudden sense of 
 distance and separation ; a strange foreboding 
 that she had reached some turning in her 
 life. She was going away from them, but 
 when and how would she return ? The 
 question seemed to oppress her. * I have 
 not thought about it,' she faltered. ' Good- 
 bye, Gerard ; take care of them all for me.' 
 The train moved as she spoke, and he 
 nodded and stepped back on the platform. 
 
 Gerda looked at them both rather wist- 
 fully — at Gerard's strong, well-built figure 
 and grave face, and then at Doris, as she 
 stood closely beside him. The faint wintry 
 sunshine seemed to envelop them in its 
 transient brightness as they stood together. 
 
 * Why should it not be ?* she said to her- 
 self — ' if he only knew, Doris would make 
 him very happy ; but,' with a sigh, ' I sup- 
 pose he will never find that out for him- 
 self.' 
 
 VOL. I. 17
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ST. JUDE S VICARAGE. 
 
 ' We live with other men, and to other men ; neither with 
 nor to ourselves.' — Clarendon. 
 
 ' The wavering mind is a base property.'— Euripides. 
 
 The parish of St. Jude's, Cromehurst, where 
 the Rev. Horace Glyn had a cure of souls, 
 was not in the town itself, but in the out- 
 lying suburb that had sprung up In mush- 
 room fashion during the last few years, and 
 of which the cemetery was the nucleus and 
 centre. 
 
 It was a somewhat straggling parish, and 
 embraced all sorts and conditions of men. 
 
 The new roads that branched off from 
 the church in all directions, with their sub- 
 stantial, comfortable houses, were inhabited 
 by respectable business men, who went up 
 to town by the fast early trains, and returned
 
 ST. yUDFJS VICARAGE 259 
 
 to the bosom of their family in the evening ; 
 but on the other side of the cemetery was 
 a poorer neighbourhood, where a motley 
 class, ranging from small shopkeepers and 
 artisans to gutter merchants and flower-girls, 
 took up their abode. At first sight it would 
 appear to the casual observer that the people 
 living in those roomy cottages, with their 
 little plots of garden ground, must be fairly 
 well-to-do, and that no fell grip of poverty 
 had made itself felt in the roads rejoicing 
 in the euphonious names of Acacia and 
 Elm-tree Roads and Hazelbeech Gardens ; 
 but this would be drawing an erroneous con- 
 clusion. 
 
 The heart of man is deceitful and despe- 
 rately wicked, and not even plenty of space 
 and elbow-room, abundance of fresh water 
 and fine air, could transform the improvident 
 idler into the industrious workman, or lure 
 the drunkard from the public-house, out of 
 which he reeled night after night to his 
 home. Human nature is the same every- 
 where, and no paradise is free from the 
 trail of the serpent. Even in Hazelbeech 
 Gardens slatternly mothers sent out their 
 unkempt, pale-faced children to play in the
 
 26o SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 gutters, until the hand of authority swept 
 them off to parish and board schools. There- 
 fore was the soul of the Rev. Horace Glyn 
 vexed within him as he walked down the 
 wide roads, or exchanged greetings with a 
 loiterer or two. * What could they want 
 more ?' he asked himself. There was abund- 
 ance of work for all ; no one had intercepted 
 the sweet current of air that blew freshly on 
 them from the open country ; no water could 
 be purer ; no parish so prodigal of wise, 
 self-supporting charities. The coal-club, the 
 provident fund, the boot and shoe fund, were 
 all flourishing and well sustained, and yet 
 vice and want skulked behind some of those 
 walls ; the unrepentant prodigal still fed on 
 husks, and the seven devils had not yet 
 departed out of the Magdalene. 
 
 The church of St. Jude's was in all respects 
 what a church should be, but the Vicarage 
 was felt to be a failure. The funds had* been 
 low, and the builder's estimates had been 
 so sadly curtailed that anything like orna- 
 mentation had been clearly impossible. 
 
 Mrs. Glyn's heart had sunk within her as 
 she looked round the rooms, with their 
 barrack-like spaciousness and general barren-
 
 ST. JUDE'S VICARAGE 20 r 
 
 ness of detail ; and while her husband was 
 descanting delightfully on the airy situation, 
 the capital ventilation, and the cheerful view 
 from the windows, she was wondering how 
 she could ever give them a comfortable, home- 
 like aspect. 
 
 * The papers are so ugly, Horace,' she coald 
 not help saying at last. 
 
 ' You will soon get used to them, my dear,' 
 he returned encouragingly ; * and, after all, 
 there is very little ground for complaint : the 
 proportions of the rooms are excellent, and 
 there are plenty of them — we shall not be 
 crowded for want of space.' And Mr. Glyn 
 looked so supremely satisfied that she had not 
 the courage to damp him. 
 
 Poor Mrs. Glyn ! she had an innate love 
 of the beautiful, and those cheap glaring wall- 
 papers haunted her like a nightmare. If only 
 Horace would have allowed her to change the 
 drawing-room one I she thought, but the mere 
 idea had so shocked him that she had been 
 reduced to a discomfited silence. Mrs. Glyn 
 was a high-spirited woman, and her will was 
 a stronof one. But her husband's was far 
 stronger ; in any such contest she was com- 
 pelled to yield. There had been times dur-
 
 262 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 ing their married life when she had pleaded 
 earnestly with him for something that she 
 thought necessary to her own or her children's 
 comfort ; but though he would listen to her 
 with patience, and give good heed to all her 
 reasoning, the result had always been the 
 same. When she had finished, he would tell 
 her quietly that the thing was impossible, and 
 that it was wrong of her to wish it — that it 
 was a wife's duty to be guided by her hus- 
 band, and that she should try on all occasions 
 to think with him. 
 
 ' I am quite sure no wife was ever more 
 submissive to her husband than I am to vou, 
 Horace,' she had said once, when his reproof 
 had been more stinging than usual. 
 
 ' I have never complained,' was his imper- 
 turbable answer. * On the contrary, I believe 
 I have often praised you, and I am quite sure 
 that on this point you will be guided by me ;' 
 and such was the power of the man, and so 
 great was her belief in him, that she had in- 
 variably yielded to him, sorrowfully, and with 
 much inward reluctance ; but still the victory 
 had been his. Perhaps if she had known 
 how he loved and honoured her for her 
 womanly compliance, she might have gone
 
 ST. JUDE'S VICARAGE 263 
 
 away more comforted ; but he was a man of 
 few words, and outward demonstration was 
 by no means easy to him. 
 
 The Vicar of St. Jude's prided himself on 
 belonging to no special party. In the lan- 
 guage of the great Apostle, he would be all 
 things to all men ; he would wear no dis- 
 tinctive badge ; neither High Church, Low 
 Church, nor Broad Church should claim him. 
 ' His creed is the Glynian Creed,' an under- 
 graduate was once heard to say ; ' he has a 
 platform of his own, and the name of his party 
 is Horace Glyn.' But this severe criticism 
 only grazed the truth. There was nothing 
 colourless or obscure In Horace Glyn's pastoral 
 teaching. On the contrary, he held strong 
 views on all subjects, and there was marked 
 originality and much depth of thought in those 
 short, concise sermons that were preached Sun- 
 day after Sunday at St. Jude's. Perhaps his 
 chief defect lay in his unmitigated contempt 
 for the small aims and narrower views of the 
 puerile souls around him ; and he was speci- 
 ally hard on the honest business men who 
 composed part of his congregation. For them 
 he seemed to have no pity or scruple ; for 
 their sakes he would utter the most startling
 
 264 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 paradoxes : for in one breath he would tell 
 them that work was the salt and savour of 
 life, and the next he would reproach them 
 with their love of greed, their absorbing pre- 
 occupation with the perishing things of this 
 life ; and he was always so terribly in earnest 
 that many a slumbering conscience was roused 
 and pricked into uneasiness. 
 
 And there was another thing that added 
 weight to his influence — he was so absolutely 
 true, and he so evidently believed every word 
 he spoke. At times there was something 
 almost pathetic in the way he strove to live 
 up to his conviction, and when he failed to do 
 so he would accuse himself almost bitterly of 
 his want of faithfulness. 
 
 With all these virtues, it must still be 
 acknowledged that Horace Glyn was more 
 respected than loved, and he was regarded 
 even by his children with a species of awe ; 
 his affection for his wife and children bordered 
 on intensity, and in his own heart he would 
 plead guilty to over-much tenderness, but 
 he seldom allowed them to perceive this. 
 The small every-day jokes, the light, inno- 
 cent play of nonsense and repartee, that 
 make family life so pleasant, were missing at
 
 ST. JUDE'S VICARAGE 265 
 
 St. Jude's Vicarage ; the weight of the 
 paternal gravity was too severe a pressure 
 on the youthful spirits ; and it was often 
 remarked by visitors how quiet and well- 
 behaved the children were in their father's 
 presence. 
 
 ' You should see them with me,' Mrs. Glyn 
 would answer. ' I think they keep all their 
 nonsense for my private ear. Horace is so 
 very grave, and then he is often so pre- 
 occupied, and they are afraid of troubling 
 him. They know nothing ever troubles me ; 
 I think I am a child still, I am so fond of 
 noise and play.' 
 
 It was towards evening when Gerda and 
 her luggage were driven up to the door of 
 St. Jude's Vicarage. She was weary and 
 benumbed with her long, cold journey, but 
 as the door was flung open, before the cab- 
 man could descend from his box, and she 
 saw the stream of warm light, and Mrs. 
 Glyn's tall figure, with the neat maid-servant 
 behind her, she forgot her fatigue, and ran 
 eagerly up the steps. 
 
 * Oh, Aunt Clare, how nice it is to see you 
 again !' 
 
 * You are late, dearest. Bessie and I were
 
 266 SIR GODFRETS GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 just beginning to get anxious. Oh, how cold 
 you are ! Do not stand in this bitter draught 
 another moment. Lydia will look after the 
 luggage ;' and so saying, Mrs. Glyn led the 
 way to the bright, comfortable drawing-room. 
 
 A girl about sixteen was sitting reading 
 by the fire, with a tabby cat curled up in her 
 lap. She rose at once as the visitor entered 
 the room. 
 
 ' Why, Bessie, how you have grown !' 
 exclaimed Gerda, kissing her. ' You are 
 quite a young lady now.' 
 
 Bessie blushed and looked pleased. She 
 was a fair, pretty-looking girl, with gentle, 
 retiring manners ; but she was evidently very 
 shy and unformed. She drew the easy-chair 
 closer to the fire, and looked at her mother 
 as though for further directions. 
 
 ' Yes, dear, you may go and bring Gerda a 
 cup of hot tea. Make it yourself, Bessie, for 
 Rebecca is busy ;' and Bessie at once left the 
 room. 
 
 ' Bessie is growing very pretty,' observed 
 Gerda ; ' but I see she is as quiet as ever. 
 So the children are away, Aunt Clare ; I am 
 so sorry not to see them. I shall miss my 
 romps with Janie and Nora ; and then there
 
 ST. jfUDE'S VICARAGE 267 
 
 is Willie ;' and here she stopped and looked 
 at her aunt a little anxiously. 
 
 Mrs. Glyn's face grew grave. 
 
 * They are spending the remainder of the 
 holidays with their Aunt Emma — I think I 
 told you so in my letter — and Willie will go 
 straight to school from there. Of course I 
 was sorry about it, but Horace seemed to 
 think it was best ; but I see so little of 
 Willie now ;' and then Mrs. Glyn sighed and 
 changed the subject by questioning Gerda 
 about her journey. 
 
 Gerda could have found it in her heart to 
 echo her aunt's sigh. There was more in 
 these few words than met the ear. Horace 
 Glyn's eldest sister was by no means beloved 
 by her sister-in-law. Mrs. Harding was a 
 bustling, managing woman, with clear, worldly 
 views, and she had some influence with her 
 brother. She had married a man much 
 older than herself, and to make matters 
 worse in Mrs. Glyn's eyes, Mr. Harding had 
 a large retail business, and ' the shop,' as she 
 called it, was a bitter humiliation to her. 
 
 It was in vain that her husband repre- 
 sented to her that nothing could be more 
 respectable than Mrs. Harding's position.
 
 268 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Clare only shuddered at the word ' respect- 
 ability.' To be sure, her sister-in-law had a 
 handsome house at Highgate, and drove in 
 her own carriage ; but even this failed to give 
 Mrs. Glyn satisfaction. Mr. Harding might 
 be respectable, but in her eyes he was hope- 
 lessly vulgar. He had a loud, joking manner, 
 which always offended her, and even his 
 good-nature and his liberality to her children 
 could elicit no commendation from her lips. 
 And there was another thing that had 
 widened the breach between the sisters-in- 
 law : Mrs. Harding, with her shrewd common- 
 sense, often influenced her brother, and it 
 was owing to her and her husband Willie 
 had had that presentation to Christ's Hos- 
 pital. 
 
 The greatest sorrow of Clare's life had 
 been the loss of her second child — a beautiful 
 boy who had died of croup in his third 
 year ; but it may be said that the bitterest 
 humiliation she had ever suffered was when 
 she first saw her youngest born attired in 
 the quaint mediaeval dress that has so 
 strangely lingered into the nineteenth 
 century. 
 
 But it was in vain that she had striven
 
 ST. yUDE'S VICARAGE 269 
 
 with her husband in a hot, tearful argument 
 that had driven him for once to anger. 
 
 * Horace, I cannot bear it/ she had said 
 to him. * This is Emma's doing ; she has 
 harped on this ever since WilHe was born ; 
 but you have no right to listen to her and 
 not think of your wife's feelings. Why do 
 you not teach him yourself if you cannot 
 afford to send him to school ?' for as yet the 
 living of St. Jude's had not been offered to 
 him. 
 
 'You are talking at random, Clare,' re- 
 turned her husband coldly, for this false pride, 
 as he called it, made him less patient with 
 her than usual. * How am I to teach 
 Willie when my time is not my own ? 
 Would you have me defraud the sick and 
 dying that Willie may have his Latin lessons ? 
 Is this your idea of a curate's duty ?' 
 
 ' I will teach him myself, then — I will, 
 indeed, Horace !' she exclaimed eagerly. 
 * I know a little Latin even now, and I can 
 learn more. Let me have him for a year 
 or two until we grow a little richer ; he is 
 my boy as well as yours, and I have a right 
 to be consulted.' 
 
 * But yon have no rio^ht to lose your
 
 270 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 temper/ with a disapproving glance at her 
 flushed face, ' and least of all with your 
 husband.' Then, as she burst into tears, he 
 relented and took her hand. ' My love, this 
 is absolutely wrong and foolish. Why cannot 
 you trust me to do the best I can for 
 Willie ? Do you think that I would not 
 much rather send him to Rugby or Harrow ? 
 I was a Rugby boy myself. But in our 
 position — with all these children to educate, 
 and on small means — there should be no 
 room for pride. I have done all I can for 
 Walter, but there is nothing to spare for 
 Willie ; and when Antony promised to secure 
 me a presentation to Christ's Hospital I dared 
 not refuse it.' 
 
 * It is all Emma,' she returned in despair ; 
 ' she has more influence with you than I 
 have, Horace. I have seen that for a long 
 time.' 
 
 ' Is it necessary to wound me with such 
 speeches ?' he asked reproachfully. ' How 
 have I ever failed to you, Clare, except by 
 loving you too well ?' Then, at the break of 
 tenderness in his voice, she crept closer to 
 him. 
 
 ' Please forgive me/ she whispered ; * but
 
 ST. JUDE'S VICARAGE 271 
 
 I am SO unhappy, Horace. If we could only 
 think alike about this ; if you would put 
 yourself in my place for once ! Think of what 
 my father and Honoria will say ! I have so 
 often heard father call it "a charity school 
 for gentlemen." ' 
 
 * True,' he returned with a curl of his lip, 
 ' and Charles Lamb and Samuel Taylor 
 Coleridge were charity boys. But what of 
 that, Clare ? Why should not our Willie 
 follow their footsteps } Has not Christ's 
 Hospital turned out brave gendemen and 
 learned scholars ? My dear, try to be 
 sensible. If Willie's yellow stockings offend 
 your eyes, that is a small grievance weighed 
 in the balance against more solid advantages. 
 You have often blamed Emma, in my hearing, 
 for her worldly motives ; but take care that 
 you are free yourself from the same taint. 
 Such pride as yours is only a subtler form of 
 worldliness. Do not let us argue any more 
 upon a foregone conclusion. I have already 
 made up my mind, and the thing must be 
 done.' 
 
 But though, as usual, Horace Glyn had his 
 way, in his heart he was very sorry that 
 necessity had obliged him to inflict this
 
 272 SIR GODFRErS GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 humiliation on his wife ; as far as his con- 
 science permitted him, he would willingly 
 have pleased her, and his anger had been 
 roused by her inability to perceive this con- 
 flict that was for ever going on between his 
 inclination and duty. Not that yellow stock- 
 ings were so odious to him, for nature had 
 not endowed him with a fine cultured taste — 
 he was a robust Philistine of the old type ; 
 nevertheless, he loved his wife dearly, and he 
 hated to see a cloud on her bright face, and 
 to know that he himself had brought it there 
 made him thoroughly unhappy. 
 
 Gerda knew all about this trouble. Willie 
 had been at Christ's Hospital for three 
 years now, but his mother still secretly 
 lamented the fact ; and though she had long 
 ago forgiven her husband, the breach between 
 her and her sister-in-law had never been 
 healed. 
 
 Her husband did not trouble himself to 
 effect a reconciliation. He was wise enough 
 to perceive that the natures of the two women 
 were too dissimilar to render harmony 
 possible. He never pressed his wife to 
 accompany him to Highgate ; neither did he 
 insist on her receiving his sister ; he left all
 
 ST. jfUDE'S VICARAGE 273 
 
 that to time and chance. But he took care 
 that his children did not fail in their duty to 
 their aunt ; and as Mrs. Harding had no 
 children of her own, and was fond of the 
 society of young people, she frequently 
 invited her nephews and nieces to stay with 
 her. 
 
 The twins and Willie always enjoyed their 
 visits to The Briars. They liked driving 
 into town with Aunt Emma, and watching 
 her numerous purchases. Then Uncle Hard- 
 ing would take them to the pantomime ; or 
 they would go to the Zoological Gardens, or 
 to Madame Tussaud's, or other places of 
 amusement, under the care of a gray old 
 clerk. But these visits were less relished by 
 Walter and Bessie ; and Bessie, in particular, 
 grew silent and home-sick under her aunt's 
 wing. 
 
 Gerda sipped her hot tea, and basked plea- 
 santly in the warmth while she answered 
 Mrs. Glyn's eager questions. 
 
 ' You are looking thinner. Aunt Clare,' she 
 said at last. 
 
 But Mrs. Glyn only laughed, and dis- 
 claimed this. She was a very graceful-look- 
 ing woman, and many people thought her 
 
 VOL. I. 18
 
 274 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 extremely handsome, though her hair was 
 tinged with gray and there were Hnes under 
 the frank, smiHng eyes, but in her husband's 
 eyes she had never ceased to be lovely. 
 
 ' Yes, indeed, you are thinner,' repeated 
 Gerda tenderly. * You work too hard, Aunt 
 Clare. I mean to tell Uncle Horace so 
 when I see him. I am right, am I not, 
 Bessie ?' as the girl looked up rather quickly 
 at this. 
 
 ' Hold your tongue, Bessie,' returned her 
 mother good-humouredly. ' I will not have 
 you two conspiring against my peace. Oni:^ 
 master is enough for any woman.' 
 
 ' Mother always works too hard,' observed 
 Bessie in a low voice ; * and she does more 
 than ever now that she teaches Janie and 
 
 Nora. 
 
 ' Oh, Aunt Clare !' in quite a shocked tone 
 of voice. 
 
 But Mrs. Glyn only shook her head re- 
 proachfully at Bessie. 
 
 * Mouse ! I am surprised at you,' for this 
 was Bessie's sobriquet in the family. ' Gerda 
 will give me no peace now. No, you shall 
 not speak ; I must explain matters. You see, 
 since Miss Hall left us we have not had a
 
 ST. JUDE'S VICARAGE 275 
 
 governess. Your uncle Horace hates schools 
 for girls ; and, really, Walter is likely to cost 
 us so much that we could hardly afford to 
 send them, even though Mrs. Vincent's terms 
 are certainly very moderate, so I suggested 
 that I should teach them myself, and your 
 uncle thought this such a good plan that I 
 have done so ever since Michaelmas — and I 
 assure you that I like the work immensely.' 
 
 ' Yes, but it is too much for you, with 
 the house and all your parish work ; how 
 can Uncle Horace allow you to overtax your 
 strength ? You mentioned Mrs. Vincent 
 just now — I seem to have heard that name 
 before.' 
 
 ' She is Dr. Lyall's sister — such a charm- 
 ing person ! Even your uncle Horace can 
 find no fault with her, though he has such a 
 high standard for people. By-the-by, Gerda, 
 you have become quite intimate with Pamela 
 and her brother. You know, they are both 
 ofreat favourites . of mine. I shall w^ant to 
 hear all about everything — the ice accident, 
 and the party, and — and other thin^:^s ' — and 
 here she looked meaningly at her niece's 
 averted face — * but we shall have plenty of 
 time for all that to-morrow. Let us go
 
 276 SIR GODFRETS GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Upstairs now, and then you can rest and 
 refresh yourself before dinner ;' and as Gerda 
 approved of this suggestion, Mrs. Glyn led 
 the way upstairs to the room that had been 
 prepared for the guest.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 TWILIGHT CONFIDENCES. 
 
 'There will be always cross-lights troubling the earnest 
 soul.'— Lord Houghton. 
 
 Mrs. Glyn had evidently made up her mind 
 that all awkward topics should be avoided 
 that first evening. Her tired guest was to 
 be warmed, welcomed and refreshed ; she 
 was to be petted and made to feel at home. 
 There would be plenty of time for talk 
 presently, when Gerda should have re- 
 covered from the fatigue of her journey. 
 
 Late dinner was an innovation at St. Jude's 
 Vicarage. Mrs. Glyn, who knew how her 
 husband suffered from the effects of the 
 hurried mid-day meal, had been urgent 
 with him to permit himself this one in- 
 dulgence ; but, as usual, her arguments 
 had not prevailed. She had found an un-
 
 278 SIR GODFREYS GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 expected ally, however, in Dr. Lyall, who 
 had been called in to prescribe for the over- 
 worked Vicar. 
 
 ' Your digestion is seriously impaired/ he 
 had said to him ; ' you have been in the 
 habit of snatching a hurried meal in the 
 midst of your parish work. — If you value 
 your husband's health, Mrs. Glyn, let him 
 have a comfortable dinner at seven o'clock ; 
 a light luncheon is all that he ought to have 
 at mid-day.' 
 
 Mr. Glyn had not openly rebelled against 
 his doctor's wishes, but when he had been left 
 alone with his wife he had looked very solemn. 
 
 Mt will double our weekly expenses, Clare,' 
 he observed with a grave face ; but on this 
 point his wife reassured him. 
 
 ' I think you are wrong, dear,' she returned 
 gently ; ' it will not make all that difference. 
 Let us try for a week or so, by way of 
 experiment ;' and this time she was allowed 
 to carry her point. Mrs. Glyn was an 
 excellent manager, and after a few demurs 
 from her husband, that grew fainter and 
 fainter, the late dinner became a permanent 
 institution at the Vicarage. 
 
 Mr. Glyn's health had improved under this
 
 TWILIGHT CONFIDENCES 279 
 
 regime, but his ascetic soul had secret qualms 
 of conscience, and from time to time he ex- 
 plained laboriously to a chance guest that he 
 was unwillingly carrying out his doctor's pre- 
 scriptions. ' No man should be a slave to 
 his own appetite,' he would say, as he carved 
 the slices of roast beef ' I am not indifferent 
 to creature comforts, but I like to feel that I 
 can do without them ' — and in all justice it 
 must be owned that no man could so well 
 dispense with luxuries. 
 
 When Gerda returned to the drawing- 
 room, she found Mr. Glyn in possession of 
 the hearthrug. He was holding forth to 
 his family on some point that had come 
 under his notice, but as she entered the 
 room he stopped at once and greeted her 
 most cordially. Mr. Glyn was a striking- 
 looking man ; he was not tall, but his erect 
 figure and a certain fine carriage of the 
 head gave him an air of unusual dignity. 
 His features were good, and there was a 
 keenness and brightness in his eyes which 
 struck terror into evildoers, and it was diffi- 
 cult indeed for anyone with an uneasy con- 
 science to meet without flinching that clear 
 penetrating gaze.
 
 28o SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 But at times when things went well with 
 him, and he found himself alone w^ith his 
 wife and children, there would be a softness 
 and sweetness of expression that made up 
 for his want of demonstration ; and as he 
 kissed Gerda, and asked her kindly about 
 her journey, it was evident that this mood 
 w^as on him now. 
 
 *Why, Walter, I should hardly have 
 known you !' exclaimed Gerda, as a tall, 
 good-looking young fellow shook hands 
 with her, and she drew her finger signifi- 
 cantly across her upper lip. 
 
 ' You did not know that Walter was 
 cultivating a moustache,' observed his father 
 dryly ; but he was secretly proud of his son's 
 hirsute ornament. * He is afraid of look- 
 ing two young for an undergraduate — eh, 
 Walter ?' But Walter only reddened, and 
 exchanged a quick glance with his mother. 
 
 * I suppose your aunt has told you that 
 we hope to send Walter to Oxford next 
 term ?' continued Mr. Glyn ; but his wife 
 interrupted him. 
 
 ^ No, indeed, Horace. I have told Gerda 
 nothing yet ; home politics are not for tired 
 travellers, and Gerda looks extremely fatigued.
 
 TWILIGHT CONFIDENCES 281 
 
 Ah, there is the dinner-bell ;' and then the 
 conversation was suspended until the Vicar 
 had said grace. 
 
 Mr. Glyn was determined to make himself 
 pleasant ; he asked after Sir Godfrey and 
 every member of the family with a fine 
 assumption of interest. 
 
 ' Sir Godfrey wears well, but he must be 
 getting old,' he observed, as though he and 
 Sir Godfrey were the best of friends : * he is 
 a fine specimen of the old country gentle- 
 man.' 
 
 ' Grandfather was seventy-five last birth- 
 day,' returned Gerda ; ' he is very proud of 
 the fact, and is always reminding us of it' 
 Then Mrs. Glyn sighed, and her husband 
 looked at her and proceeded to talk of 
 Gerard. 
 
 * He leads rather a useless existence, I am 
 afraid,' he remarked with some severity ; 
 ' shooting, and fishing, and cricket, can 
 hardly fill up a man's life.' Then Gerda, with 
 some embarrassment, tried to defend her 
 cousin. 
 
 * Gerard is never idle,' she said quietly ; 
 * you have no idea how busy he is from 
 morning to night, and he helps Grand so
 
 282 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND DAUGHTERS 
 
 much too : he keeps his accounts for him, and 
 does a good deal of his business. Grand 
 does not really think himself old, but he 
 gets dreadfully muddled sometimes ; and then 
 Gerard makes everything straight for him.' 
 
 ' I suppose Hamlyn will be getting a wife 
 soon,' observed Mr. Glyn, for he was ignorant 
 of the family scheme. Then Gerda blushed 
 violently and held her peace, while Mrs. 
 Glyn came to her rescue. 
 
 * I suppose it will be his duty to marry 
 some day,' she said in a matter-of-fact tone ; 
 * but there is plenty of time for that. Gerda, 
 I wish you would tell us a little about your 
 accident. Dr. Lyall refused to say a word 
 when he was here on Tuesday ; by-the-by, 
 I told him that you were coming, and he 
 said his sister would be so pleased. I am 
 glad you like Pamela — is she not an amusing 
 little person ? — only I regret to say your 
 uncle does not admire her.' 
 
 * I am sorry to hear that. Uncle Horace. 
 I have taken such a fancy to Miss Lyall ; 
 she is so thoroughly original, and says such 
 clever things.' 
 
 Then Mr. Glyn gave an eloquent dissent- 
 ing shrug which seemed to amuse his wife.
 
 TWILIGHT CONFIDENCES 283 
 
 'Ask him why he does not Hke her, 
 Gerda!' But Mr. Glyn did not wait to be 
 questioned. 
 
 ' In the first place I deny her originality. 
 It is quite true that she does not talk in the 
 usual conventional way — she has evidently 
 cultivated the art of saying odd, out-of-the- 
 way things ; she wishes to appear clever, but 
 in reality she is flighty.' 
 
 ' I do not agree with you, Uncle Horace.' 
 
 ' Neither do I, Gerda ; he is dreadfully hard 
 on Pamela : there is never any peace when he 
 is in the room with her ; somehow she rubs 
 him up the wrong way.' 
 
 * She should talk more sensibly,' he returned 
 severely. 'What do you think she said the 
 other day, Gerda ? I was talking about her 
 sister — ah, poor thing! I forgot that you do not 
 know her; but she is a most pleasing person. 1 
 was sayingsomething civil about her, and Miss 
 Lyall suddenly began abusing her : she did not 
 know why I always praised her sister, I was 
 not generally so easily satisfied with people. 
 Hester was well enough, but she was a 
 very ordinary person ; her conscientiousness 
 amounted to a fault — she hated a nervous 
 conscience. What a ridiculous idea for a girl
 
 284 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 to enunciate — a nervous conscience ! And 
 actually your aunt only laughed !' 
 
 ' I laughed at your horrified face, Horace. 
 Of course, Pamela only said it to get a rise 
 out of you. She told me afterwards that there 
 was nothing she loved better. '' He looks so 
 splendid when he is angry," she finished.' 
 But this compliment was received by the 
 Vicar with marked disfavour, and Mrs. Glyn, 
 with her usual tact and good-nature, changed 
 the subject. 
 
 * I think Gerda is wonderfully improved. 
 She seems to have grown, somehow,' re- 
 marked Mr. Glyn, an hour or two later, when 
 their guest had retired. 
 
 It was the hour that his wife loved best. 
 The rest of the household were asleep — the 
 long, hard working day was over ; but the 
 Vicar still sat by his study fire with his open 
 book before him. Clare always sat opposite 
 to him with her knitting or mending-basket 
 beside her. She knew that in spite of his 
 silence her husband liked to see her there, 
 and at times he would lay down his book or 
 push aside his papers, and tell her the day's 
 troubles or the thoughts that were passing 
 through his mind. And then it would seem
 
 TWILIGHT CONFIDENCES 285 
 
 to the tired, happy wife as though heaven 
 and earth were very near together, and Hfe 
 a great mystery and sacrament of love. At 
 such times the hesitations and Hmitations of a 
 difficult, complex nature seemed laid aside 
 like a cloak, and the real Horace Glyn stood 
 revealed to his wife's eyes in his full strength 
 and meaning. ' No one knows him as I do, 
 she would think ; and then she would declare 
 to herself, with womanly inconsistency, that 
 he was altogether perfect. 
 
 When Mr. Glyn made this remark about 
 Gerda, Clare's eyes glistened with pleasure, 
 and she laid down her work. 
 
 * She's a darling !' she returned enthusiasti- 
 cally. ' I always told you she was a fine 
 creature ; but oh, Horace ! what made you 
 talk so much of Gerard Hamlyn ?' 
 
 * Is there any reason why I should not talk 
 of him, my dear ?' And Mr. Glyn looked at 
 his wife rather keenly. 
 
 *She was very much embarrassed when 
 you mentioned his name. I do not know 
 why you should be kept in ignorance, Horace. 
 Honoria wrote to me very fully about him. 
 My father has set his heart on his marrying 
 Gerda, and it appears that Gerard is really in
 
 286 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 love with her, but Gerda will not have 
 him.' 
 
 ' Do you mean that she has actually refused 
 him?' 
 
 *Yes, indeed. And Honoria tells me that 
 everything is so uncomfortable that the poor 
 child is glad to take refuge with us. I think 
 you ought to know this, Horace, but I have 
 had no opportunity of telling you.' 
 
 * Certainly I ought to know it, but, 
 unless Gerda herself speaks to me, you 
 may be sure that I shall not mention the 
 subject. A young girl's confidence is only 
 given to one of her own sex, and unless she 
 has need of priestly counsel she will not 
 speak to me, neither shall I expect her to do 
 so. But, Clare, let her know, if possible, that 
 she has my warmest sympathy. Tell her, if 
 you will, that I honour her for not giving 
 away her heart lightly to this young man, and 
 that she is welcome to stay here as long as 
 she likes.' And Mr. Glyn spoke with deci- 
 sion and energy. 
 
 ' Thank you, dear ; you are very good ! I 
 will certainly tell Gerda this when we talk 
 the matter over together ; but, Horace, do 
 you know, I feel rather sorry for Gerard. He
 
 TWILIGHT CONFIDENCES 287 
 
 is such a nice fellow, and Honoria says he is 
 thoroughly in love with her/ 
 
 ' It will do him no harm,' returned her 
 husband. * And, after all, the question is for 
 the girl herself to decide. You did not want 
 anyone to help you make up your mind, and 
 you were not older than Gerda when you 
 accepted me.' And a certain softness came 
 over Horace Glyn's features as he remem- 
 bered how his faithful Clare had given up all 
 for his sake. 
 
 ' No, Horace, and I have never repented 
 my decision.' And then for a moment a 
 sacred silence fell between the wife and hus- 
 band. 
 
 When the Vicar spoke again it was on a 
 different subject. 
 
 * I went to Daintree Road this afternoon, 
 my dear.' 
 
 Then Mrs. Glyn roused from her musing fie. 
 
 ' Did you see Hester ?' 
 
 ' No, she was busy with some music pupils, 
 so I went into the studio. As usual, I found 
 Vincent reading a French novel, with an 
 empty coffee-cup beside him. Upon my 
 word, Clare, I should enjoy horsewhipping 
 the fellow !'
 
 288 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 ' I quite believe you. Poor Mr. Vincent 
 would have scant mercy at your hands. I 
 suppose Ray was with him ?' 
 
 ' Poor little dear ! she was fast asleep on 
 the rug, and he had covered her over with 
 his velvet painting-coat. He apologized for 
 not rising, for fear of waking her, and then 
 he showed me how she had dropped asleep 
 cuddling his boot.' 
 
 ' I think the best point about him is his 
 love for that child,' observed Clare, secretly 
 touched by this moving picture. 
 
 ' Do you call it love w^hen he is too lazy 
 to work for her ?^ returned her husband 
 energetically. ' Of course it was the old 
 excuse — want of light and absence of the 
 model. There were half a dozen pictures, in 
 all stages of progress, and he was sitting by 
 the fire reading Zola.' 
 
 * He is very unsatisfactory, certainly. Poor 
 dear Hester ! my heart bleeds for her. Did 
 you ask after the boys ?' 
 
 * There was nothing else to talk about. 
 He says Lyall is paying their school-bills. 
 Harry is really a very clever, intelligent lad, 
 and takes after his mother ; but Philip is 
 slower, and does not seem very brilliant.
 
 TWILIGHT CONFIDENCES 289 
 
 Would you believe it, Clare, Vincent began 
 inveighing against day-schools for the sons 
 of gentlemen ! " They will mix with all the 
 cads of the neighbourhood," he said. " I 
 believe my butcher's son is in the same class 
 with Harry." But I cut him short by asking 
 him who was to send them to a public school ; 
 and then he was obliged to confess that he 
 did not see his way to do it. *' No one cares 
 about art nowadays," he remarked. I got 
 up and took my leave after that. If I had 
 stayed longer, I should only have quarrelled 
 with him. One must keep the peace, for his 
 wife's sake.' 
 
 ' Yes, indeed,' agreed his wife, with a sigh ; 
 and then she put aside her work-basket, and 
 reminded her husband of the lateness of the 
 hour. 
 
 Mrs. Glyn's morning was fully occupied, 
 and Gerda saw little of her until luncheon ; 
 so she sat reading in the rocking-chair beside 
 the fire, while Walter prepared his Greek for 
 his tutor, and Bessie wrote out her French 
 translation, or drew in silence. Bessie was 
 completing her education in a somewhat 
 desultory fashion. She explained to Gerda 
 that she and her mother still read history 
 
 VOL. I. 19
 
 290 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 and English literature together, and that she 
 went twice a week to Mrs. Vincent for French 
 and drawing. 
 
 * They have a very good French governess, 
 and, of course, Mr. Vincent teaches drawing,' 
 she went on ; ' and when father is not too 
 busy, he does a little Euclid and Latin with 
 me.' 
 
 ' Mouse is a sort of mendicant pupil,' 
 observed Walter, thrusting his fingers through 
 his hair. ' She is thankful for scraps, and 
 gleans stray crumbs of wisdom. Did you 
 ever hear of a girl's education being carried 
 on in such a fashion ? She and mother read 
 Macaulay and Green in corners. I am 
 always finding them at it.' 
 
 * I am sure I work hard enough,' returned 
 Bessie, much hurt at this flippant speech, 
 * and mother knows more than most people. 
 I do not know why you always laugh 
 at me, Walter !' and the tears came into 
 Bessie's eyes. 
 
 But Walter only laughed again, and 
 shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 ' Of course a mouse lives on crumbs,' he 
 observed in a teasing voice ; but Gerda 
 shook her head at him. She was very fond
 
 TWILIGHT CONFIDENCES 291 
 
 of Walter, but he must be kept in order. 
 Bessie was a dear good child, and she should 
 not be teased. 
 
 ' Go on with your Greek, sir,' she said 
 authoritatively, ' and leave poor Bessie alone. 
 What is this that I hear about your going to 
 Oxford ? Do you mean that your father can 
 afford to send you there ?' and as Gerda 
 spoke, a remembrance of Willie's yellow 
 stockings and thick shoes came to her. 
 
 ' I never said that he could afford it,' 
 returned Walter rather shortly, and becoming 
 suddenly grave. 
 
 ' Mother says we shall all be dreadfully 
 stinted,' observed Bessie timidly ; but Walter 
 gave her a warning kick. 
 
 ' You must be very pleased at the prospect,' 
 continued Gerda, in an interested voice, for 
 she and her aunt had often talked for hours 
 about Walter's future career. Clare's son 
 was doubly dear to her since the death of 
 her second boy, and in spite of his reticence 
 the Vicar was very proud of the fine-grown, 
 manly-looking youth who had his mother's 
 eyes. 
 
 * I think, if I were a boy, Oxford would be 
 the summit of my ambition,' went on Gerda
 
 292 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 softly, as she looked out at the chill wintry 
 sunlight. * I saw it once. It was like a 
 dream of beauty, with its spires and gray old 
 colleges, and its Martyrs' memorial.' 
 
 But there was no answering gleam In 
 Walter's eyes. 
 
 ' I was never there,' he returned shortly. 
 And then he put his elbows on the table, and 
 went back to his Euripides. Gerda felt 
 vaguely that Walter had somehow changed. 
 He was older, and looked more of a man, 
 but he had lost some of his boyish frank- 
 ness. Perhaps he was busy, and disliked 
 interruption. So she took up her book 
 again. 
 
 After luncheon, Mrs. Glyn suggested that 
 they should take their work into the drawing- 
 room. 'It is a raw, chilly afternoon,' she 
 observed ; ' and unless you care for a walk, 
 I should gladly be excused.' And as Gerda 
 protested that she was in a lazy mood, and 
 should much enjoy a chat by the fireside, 
 they were soon settled cosily with their work; 
 and long before the twilight had arrived, 
 Mrs. Glyn was In full possession of Gerda's 
 secret. 
 
 ' I have been so longing to tell you, Aunt
 
 TWILIGHT CONFIDENCES 293 
 
 Clare/ she finished. ' I have been so sure of 
 your sympathy all this time. At home they 
 are all for Gerard. No one thinks of me at 
 all in the matter. They think Gerard has 
 only to ask for anything that he wants. 
 Even Doris takes his part/ 
 
 * What would you say if I were to take his 
 part too ?' 
 
 * I should feel as though my last comfort 
 had failed me. Aunt Clare, you are not 
 serious — you do not really think that I ought 
 to marry Gerard ?' 
 
 ' Does it matter so much what I think ? 
 Your Uncle Horace is on your side, Gerda. 
 He thinks it very wrong that any such pres- 
 sure should have been put upon you. As far 
 as that goes, I agree with him. No one has 
 a right to give an opinion in a question of 
 marrying. There are only two people to be 
 considered.' 
 
 ' Then please do not tell me that you take 
 Gerard's part.' 
 
 ' No, darling, I will not tell you that — not 
 seriously. But all the same, I am very sorry 
 for Gerard. He is rather a favourite of 
 mine, and I do not like him to be disap- 
 pointed.'
 
 294 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 * Then most certainly you are taking his 
 part.' 
 
 ' If you tell me that, I will say no more 
 about my sorrow for him. On the contrary, 
 I will put myself in your place, and try and 
 see with your eyes. But you must explain 
 yourself more clearly.' 
 
 ' Some things are not easy to explain,' 
 returned Gerda sadly. ' They will not resolve 
 themselves into words. Aunt Clare, when 
 you married Uncle Horace, did you feel that, 
 though you loved him, that part of you — your 
 best part — would be starved and left out in 
 the cold ?' 
 
 ' No, child, certainly not. Every thought 
 seemed to belong to him. Do you suppose a 
 divided allegiance would satisfy a man like 
 your uncle ?' 
 
 ' That is for you to say. But, of course, I 
 know all that you gave up for Uncle Horace. 
 If I loved anyone, I would do just the same. 
 I think I would o^o to the end of the world 
 for such a one. But not with Gerard — no, 
 certainly not with Gerard.' 
 
 ' Do you mean that you could not trust him ? 
 
 ' No, Aunt Clare, that is not my m.eaning. 
 Of course I could trust him wholly. But
 
 TWILIGHT CONFIDENCES 295 
 
 with all my affection for Gerard, how could I 
 go to the ends of the earth with a man who 
 could not speak my language — who could 
 think none of my thoughts ?' 
 
 ' Ah, I understand you now. There is 
 no part of my mind, as well as my heart, 
 that is not open to my husband. That is 
 a great deal for an old married woman to 
 say.' 
 
 ' Perhaps so. But, in my opinion, every 
 woman should be able to say the same. 
 People make such terrible mistakes, and they 
 forget that it is for life.' 
 
 ' You are quite right, dearest. A woman 
 should look up to her husband — not beyond 
 him, or over his head. It is this fatal mistake 
 that has wrecked Hester Vincent's life. She 
 has attained the full stature of her woman- 
 hood, and Mr. Vincent is a mere boy still. 
 She has grown and developed since their 
 marriage, but he is just what he always was. 
 They are not on the same plane.' 
 
 ' Yes, I see. That is very sad. But, 
 Aunt Clare, just let me say one thing before 
 we close the subject. It makes me so happy 
 to know that one person understands me.' 
 
 * Then you may be perfectly content.
 
 296 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 But, Gerda, surely I know the wearer of that 
 red dress. I am afraid our cosy chat must be 
 brought to an abrupt conclusion. Yes, that 
 is Pamela's knock — she is your first visitor. 
 Just stir the fire into a blaze, that we may be 
 able to see one another's faces.'
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 PAMELA. 
 
 ' Do not marry a woman whose mouth droops at the 
 corners. Even were the mouth a cherry you would find the 
 fruit bitter.'— Carmen Sylva. 
 
 * Am I interrupting you, dear people ?' ex- 
 claimed Pamela, in her usual abrupt fashion, 
 as she advanced into the room. Pamela never 
 came into a room as other people did ; she 
 entered with a sudden rush, like a miniature 
 whirlwind. In a moment an energizing in- 
 fluence made itself felt ; conversation might 
 be at a low ebb, but in a second it was fanned, 
 reinvigorated, stirred into fresh life and 
 interest. ' You were talking secrets,' she 
 continued, darting an inquisitive glance at 
 Gerda's hot face as she spoke. ' Shall I go 
 away, Mrs. Glyn ? — I hate to spoil sport ; my 
 good-nature has been my bane all my life — say
 
 298 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 the word, and I will vanish — dissolve into 
 space !' But Pamela's little feet were planted 
 very firmly on the hearthrug as she spoke. 
 
 ' Nonsense, Lady-bird ! you will just stay 
 where you are,' returned Mrs. Glyn, wheeling 
 up a cosy-looking chair towards the fire. ' I 
 always call her Lady-bird, Gerda, when she 
 wears that red and black dress. So you have 
 come to call on my niece, Pamela ? That is 
 very pretty behaviour on your part.' 
 
 * It is one of my virtuous days,' returned 
 Pamela placidly. ' I knew when I got out of 
 bed this morning that I should feel good for 
 the remainder of the day : it is rather a nice 
 feeling while it lasts,' she continued medita- 
 tively ; ' it is a pity that it is so evanescent. 
 So you have come to Cromehurst ?' she went 
 on, turning to Gerda. ' I had no idea we 
 should meet so soon ;' and her curious, ques- 
 tioning glance made Gerda uncomfortable. 
 
 ' Yes, it is very soon,' she returned quickly ; 
 *but I had no more idea than you had, Miss 
 Lyall. I always intended to pay Aunt Clare 
 a visit in the summer, but I suddenly saw 
 reason to alter my plans.' 
 
 'Indeed!' drawled Pamela. 'Well, never 
 mind the reasons, they are no business of
 
 PAMELA 299 
 
 mine — everyone has a right to his or her own 
 mysteries. I am very glad to see you, Miss 
 Meredith ; we got on very well together at 
 Chesterton, and I know we shall soon be 
 fast friends. You are looking paler and 
 thinner ; I suppose that has something to do 
 with the mysteries, too.' 
 
 ' Pamela,' observed Mrs. Glyn significantly, 
 * if you are going to make invidious remarks, 
 I shall not ask you to take off your hat and 
 jacket and spend the evening with us.' 
 
 ' I could not do it under any circumstances, 
 madam. I always call Mrs. Glyn '* madam" 
 when she presumes to lecture your humble 
 servant. I have a particular engagement this 
 evening.' 
 
 ' I suppose Mr. Vincent is coming?' 
 
 ' I see no reason to deny the fact. Yes, 
 Derrick is coming to dinner ; but as it is by 
 his own invitation, not mine, I will throw him 
 over if you like.' 
 
 ' You will do nothing of the kind, Lady- 
 bird !' 
 
 And then Pamela laughed mischievously. 
 
 ' I have half a mind to do it — only it would 
 be punishing myself as well as Derrick ; and 
 as I have not seen him for five weeks, I have
 
 300 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 SO much to say to him. I don't believe we 
 shall have a pleasant evening, as Alick is in 
 a bad temper. We quarrelled at breakfast- 
 time this morning.' 
 
 ' Oh, indeed ! I understood this was one 
 of your virtuous days, Pamela ?' 
 
 But Pamela took this little rebuff quite 
 sweetly. 
 
 * Exactly so ; and that proves how wrong 
 and unreasonable Alick must be. Would 
 you believe it, Mrs. Glyn : he scolded me 
 dreadfully just because I had given our cook 
 warning !' 
 
 ' You have given Rebecca warning ?' 
 
 ' Certainly I have !' in a tone of indignant 
 innocence. ' Alick has been complaining 
 lately that the joints are overdone. He has 
 spoken several times about it ; and I talked 
 very seriously to Rebecca. With all her 
 good points, Rebecca is a little short in her 
 temper ; and, I am sorry to say, she answered 
 me very rudely, and then I told her that she 
 must go. And now Jane has given warning, 
 too. That is the worst of having sisters : I 
 always told Alick it would not answer.' 
 
 Mrs. Glyn threw a comical glance of dismay 
 across at her niece.
 
 PAMELA 301 
 
 * They were two of the nicest girls in 
 Cromehurst. I have known them for years/ 
 she observed pathetically. 
 
 ' That is just what Alick said this morning. 
 He was as angry with me as possible. He 
 said I had no right to take such a step with- 
 out consulting him ; that he was the master 
 of the house, and so on. And then he 
 declared that he should ask Rebecca to 
 stay.' 
 
 ' I hope he will ; but all the same, it will be 
 very unpleasant for you, Pamela.' 
 
 * Do you think I do not know that ?' and 
 Pamela's eyes had a naughty flash in them^ 
 ' Rebecca will stay just to spite me, and she 
 and Jane will be quietly insolent every day 
 of their lives. I told Alick that if he carried 
 out his threat I should wash my hands 
 of the whole business, and that he could 
 manage the house himself. And what do 
 you think he was rude enough to say? That 
 the house would be better managed, and that, 
 on the whole, he thought me the worst house- 
 keeper that a man could have.' 
 
 * Oh, come! that is rather too severe on you, 
 Pamela ;' and Mrs. Glyn looked kindly at her 
 favourite, and Gerda observed in a low voice
 
 302 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 that she was quite sure Dr. Lyall did not 
 mean it. 
 
 ' You are wrong, Miss Meredith ; AHck 
 meant every word he said. He has gone off 
 to Hester now, to talk over his troubles. 
 This is what always happens. Hester will 
 listen to him, and then she will give him 
 advice and comfort him. She will tell him 
 to speak to Rebecca, and give all the orders 
 himself. When I go home, Jane will open 
 the door to me, and there will be a gleam 
 of malicious triumph in her eyes ; and then 
 Alick will send for me into the study, and 
 tell me, in a cold, sarcastic voice, that he 
 intends that both the servants shall stay, 
 and that for the future he hopes I shall 
 do nothing without consulting him. Oh, we 
 have had these little scenes a score of times 
 before — have we not, Mrs. Glyn .-^ — and 
 Hester is always the peacemaker.' 
 
 ' I wish you were more like her, Pamela ;' 
 and Mrs. Glyn shook her head indulgently. 
 * I am really very sorry for Dr. Lyall — he 
 does so like a quiet life, and to have things 
 comfortable and orderly about him. If it 
 were not for Hester, I hardly know what he 
 would do.'
 
 PAMELA 
 
 Pamela heaved a deep sigh. 
 
 ' " Et tu, Brute !" ' she exclaimed reproach- 
 fully. ' No one has a good word for me. 
 When I confide in Derrick this evening, he 
 will tell me to my face that it is all my fault. 
 No one understands me, Miss Meredith. 
 Alick treats me as though I were a naughty 
 child, and vc^y fianci laughs at me, and refuses 
 to take my part ; and even Mrs. Glyn has not 
 a kind w^ord for me.' But though Pamela 
 spoke quite seriously, and there was a sus- 
 picious moisture in her bright eyes, Mrs. 
 Glyn only seemed amused. 
 
 * I begin to think you are incorrigible,' 
 she returned ; ' and if Gerda were not sitting 
 opposite to us, I should treat you to a lecture 
 myself. I am very fond of you, Pamela, but, 
 all the same, you are a very faulty little 
 person.' 
 
 Pamela made a face at her, and such a 
 droll, whimsical expression crossed her 
 features, that Gerda could not help laugh- 
 ing, and in an instant Pamela recovered 
 her good temper. 
 
 * That is right, Miss Meredith, you are 
 just like me — you see the humorous side of 
 everything. In spite of my vexation, I
 
 304 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 nearly burst out laughing in Alick's face 
 this morning, he did look so ridiculously 
 solemn. After all, life is too short for these 
 misunderstandings. It is not in my nature 
 to bear malice. Before many hours are 
 over, I shall have forgiven Alick, and we 
 shall be the best of friends. Now let us 
 talk of something else. How long are you 
 going to stay at Cromehurst ?' 
 
 ' I shall keep her just as long as I can,' 
 returned Mrs. Glyn, glancing at the clock. 
 'Now I must leave you for half an hour, 
 while I write a letter for my husband, and 
 then we shall have some tea. You are in 
 no hurry, Pamela ?' 
 
 'Not in the least. I suppose Alick has 
 ordered the dinner, or Derrick will fare 
 badly. Not that I mean to trouble my head 
 about it. I shall fortify myself with tea and 
 cake, and then I shall be prepared for any 
 emergency. You look shocked, Miss Mere- 
 dith — must I go on calling you Miss Mere^ 
 dith ? But everything is fair in love and 
 war, and just now I am waging war with 
 my dearly beloved brother.' 
 
 ' Yes ; but your warfare does not extend to 
 Mr. Vincent?'
 
 PAMELA 305 
 
 ' Humph ! I am not so sure of that. I will 
 tell you a secret, Miss Meredith. Derrick 
 and I are not an orthodox couple — we are 
 getting over all our quarrels before tha happy 
 day arrives — if it ever does arrive ;' and 
 here a cloudy look came over Pamela's face. 
 
 * I think a long engagement must be rather 
 nice,' observed Gerda. ' One would get to 
 know a person so thoroughly.' 
 
 ' Oh, that is all very well in theory,' 
 returned Pamela impatiently ; * but I do not 
 agree with you in the least. To a person of 
 my excitable temperament, a long engage- 
 ment is the most exasperating thing in the 
 world.' 
 
 * If this be really your opinion, I wonder 
 you were ever engaged.' 
 
 ^Well, I would not have been if Derrick 
 had not asked me.' And Pamela blushed 
 very prettily. ' I suppose we poor girls must 
 just submit to our destiny. I tell Derrick he 
 must have bewitched me. Take warning by 
 me, Miss Meredith, and avoid that treacherous 
 pitfall that Man— spelt with a big capital — 
 spreads for the unwary and innocent victim — 
 Man the deceiver, the ruthless destroyer of 
 feminine peace and freedom.' 
 
 VOL. I. 20
 
 3o6 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 ' Please don't be so tragical,' returned 
 Gerda, laughing. And then, as the subject 
 was a delicate one, and there was a touch of 
 concealed bitterness in Pamela's mocking 
 tones, she skilfully changed the topic to one 
 of more general interest, which lasted until 
 Mrs. Glyn returned, followed by her hus- 
 band. 
 
 Mr. Glyn looked rather stiff and dignified 
 as he took up his favourite position on the 
 rug, but Pamela nodded to him with great 
 friendliness. 
 
 ' I have turned up again, like a bad penny,' 
 she remarked pleasantly. * That is the best 
 of a Vicarage — it is neutral ground — and 
 one's Vicar is bound to be civil to his 
 parishioners, however much he dislikes them. 
 I am one of the lambs of your liock, Mr. 
 Glyn, and if my fleece is not as white as it 
 should be, it is your duty to watch over me.' 
 But Mr. Glyn only frowned over this playful 
 speech, and tried to snub his irrepressible 
 guest by asking Gerda how she had spent the 
 afternoon. 
 
 But it was not easy to snub Pamela. 
 
 * Do you know, Mr. Glyn/ she observed 
 presently, when he handed her some cake,
 
 PAMELA 
 
 307 
 
 ' I have had scruples of conscience about 
 idleness lately. I belong to the unemployed 
 — to the drones of life — and it is quite time 
 for me to be a busy, busy bee. I want you to 
 allot me a district.' 
 
 ' Now, Pamela,' remonstrated Mrs. Glyn, 
 from the tea-table, ' be a good lassie for once.' 
 But Pamela refused to take this gentle hint. 
 
 * Of course, you do not believe I am 
 serious,' wrinkling her brows at the Vicar as 
 she spoke ; * but I assure you I am quite 
 in earnest. I have got tired of improving 
 my mind, and I think it is high time to turn 
 my talents to account. Now, a district will 
 just give me the employment I want. I am 
 fond of talking, and I like to mix with my 
 fellow-creatures. And I get on very well 
 with old men, and old women too ' — evidently 
 an after-thought. ' Of course, if they were ill, 
 you would not expect me to visit them.' 
 
 *Oh, I see,' remarked Mr. Glyn dryly. 
 ' I am sorry to tell you, Miss Lyall, that I 
 have no vacant district to allot to you. If you 
 want employment, you might take a class in 
 our schools, and help Miss Lingard.* But 
 Pamela shook her head with an air of 
 disgust.
 
 3o8 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 * Miss Lingard, the infant-school mistress ! 
 No, thank you, Mr. Glyn ; that is not at all 
 the work I should choose. I was never very 
 partial to children, even when they were 
 tolerably clean and well - behaved. But 
 infants from Elm-tree Road and Hazelbeech 
 Gardens are odious.' 
 
 * Uncle Horace,' interposed Gerda hur- 
 riedly, as she saw a gathering blackness on 
 Mr. Glyn's brow, ' I shall be very pleased to 
 help Miss Lingard. I have often taken a 
 class in the schools, and I think the work 
 will just suit me.' 
 
 ' Thank you, my dear. I shall gladly 
 avail myself of your offer. Miss Lingard's 
 mother is dying, and I am anxious to spare 
 her as much as possible. Perhaps, if you 
 and Bessie were to offer your services to- 
 morrow ' 
 
 ' It must be in the morning, then,' observed 
 Mrs. Glyn, 'for Hester has asked me to 
 bring Gerda to see her. It is a half-holiday, 
 and she will be at leisure. Shall we see you 
 there, Pamela ?' 
 
 * I think not,' returned Pamela, buttoning 
 her gloves with some dignity. ' I shall give 
 Daintree Road a wide berth for the present.
 
 PAMELA 309 
 
 Good-bye, Miss Meredith ! I shall expect 
 you to return this visit very soon. Mrs. 
 Glyn will show you the way to Roadside — 
 Bessie, you may come too, if you like. 
 Good-evening, Mr. Glyn ! I am sorry that 
 you will not have me for one of your workers. 
 I shall have to offer my valuable services to 
 Mr. Higginbotham instead.' 
 
 Now, the Rev. Joseph Higginbotham was 
 the incumbent of an iron church that had 
 recently been erected. He belonged to the 
 Evangelical school, and of late there had 
 been some passages of arms between him and 
 the Vicar of St. Jude's. 
 
 * Perhaps there may be refuge for the 
 stray lamb at St. Barnabas's,' she continued, 
 smiling sweetly at the Vicar as she spoke. 
 ' Do you know, Alick attends Mrs. Higgin- 
 botham and all the little Higginbothams, so 
 they have a sort of claim on us ;' and then 
 Pamela smiled again, and whisked out of the 
 room, to be followed and scolded by Mrs. 
 Glyn. 
 
 ' You are a naughty child, Pamela !' she 
 said in a vexed voice. ' Whatever made you 
 drag in Mr. Higginbotham's name? He 
 and Horace are at daggers drawn. Mr.
 
 3IO SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Higginbotham was most insulting at the 
 vestry meeting.' 
 
 * He is a good little man, and preaches 
 sound doctrine,' returned Pamela obstinately, 
 'and if Mr. Glyn refuse my services ' 
 
 ' But, Pamela, it is such nonsense ; you 
 are not in the least fitted for district work ; 
 you have no idea how strict Horace is with 
 his workers, and yet they are all so devoted 
 to him. You do not mean to say you were 
 really serious ?' as she caught sight of 
 Pamela's face. 
 
 * Yes, I was/ with a little catch in her voice, 
 that sounded like a sob ; ' but no one believes 
 in me. Alick is always telling me that I do 
 nothing for my fellow-creatures, and life is so 
 dull and stupid. And then there is Derrick 
 always on one's mind.' 
 
 ' Oh, I see/ returned Mrs. Glyn in a 
 soothing tone, as though she were talking 
 to an infant ; ' but Mr. Vincent will soon 
 put it all straight. Things have gone wrong 
 to-day, and you are a little down-hearted ; 
 but Mr. Higginbotham and St. Barnabas 
 will not mend matters. If you like, you 
 shall help me in my district ; there is such 
 a dear old man — an ex-policeman — who is
 
 PAMELA 311 
 
 crippled with rheumatism, and wants some- 
 one to read the paper to him ;' and then 
 Pamela brightened up and went off quite 
 comforted. 
 
 * Pamela was really in earnest, Horace,' 
 observed Mrs. Glyn, when she went back 
 to the drawing-room ; ' she is a little bit low 
 in her mind, and wants occupation. I have 
 promised to find her something to do in 
 Acacia Road.' 
 
 Mr. Glyn shrugged his shoulders. 'Very 
 well, my dear, you can do as you like. If 
 you choose to introduce quicksilver into 
 your district, you must take the consequences ; 
 but I shall not envy you your experience ;' 
 and then he went off to his study. 
 
 * It is such a pity Miss Lyall and Uncle 
 Horace get on so badly together,' began 
 Gerda, as the door closed after him. * I am 
 afraid he rather dislikes her than otherwise. 
 What sort of a man is Mr. Vincent ? I asked 
 Uncle Horace just now, and he said he was 
 far too good for her.' 
 
 * He is certainly very nice, though he is 
 not at all handsome. He is a very big man, 
 and Pamela looks such a tiny creature beside 
 him. He is just her opposite, Gerda: he is
 
 312 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 placid and even-tempered, and talks very 
 well.' 
 
 * Aunt Clare, I do not think Miss Lyall is 
 quite happy in her engagement.' 
 
 ' Why do you not call her Pamela ? — most 
 people do. I think you are mistaken ; she 
 is very fond of Derrick Vincent, and I am 
 quite sure nothing would induce her to give 
 him up. He is perfectly devoted to her. 
 You have seen Pamela in an unfortunate 
 mood to-day : everything has gone wrong, 
 and she and her brother have had a serious 
 quarrel ; but even in her naughty tempers 
 Pamela is interesting.' 
 
 'All the same, I am inclined to pity Mr. 
 Vincent ;' and then Gerda put away her 
 work and went to her room.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 * WITH DR. AND MISS LVALl's COMPLIMENTS. 
 
 ' Neither in writing nor in reading wilt thou be able to lay 
 down rules for others before thou shalt have first learned to 
 obey rules thyself. Much more is this in life.' — M. AuRELius 
 Antoninus. 
 
 Gerda kept her promise, and directly after 
 breakfast the next morning- she and Bessie 
 went to the infant school. On their way 
 home she had promised to do some shopping 
 for Mrs. Glyn, and Bessie had willingly 
 accompanied her. It was always a pleasure 
 to Gerda to walk through the town ; there 
 was something quaint and picturesque in the 
 gray old houses interspersed between the 
 shops ; and she liked to stand on Crown 
 Hill and look down Conduit Street at the old 
 tower of the parish church, flanked by its 
 guardian poplars. The old adage, that dis-
 
 314 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 tance lends enchantment to the view, was 
 certainly true in this case. A nearer inspec- 
 tion of Conduit Street, with its mean, un- 
 savoury shops, its shabby furniture-dealers 
 and purveyors of old clothes, would have 
 failed to excite even a passing interest ; but 
 from Crown Hill the steep, narrow street 
 wore a different aspect. There was a sense 
 of breezy distance — a breadth of sky-line, 
 with soft cloudy effects, the rooks circling 
 round the poplars ; and the church-tower 
 seemed to invest the scene with interest : 
 one forgot the shabby wares on either side of 
 the street, to think rather pitifully of the 
 aged lives that wore so peacefully to their 
 close in the modest almshouses below. 
 
 ' If I were rich, I would rather build alms- 
 houses than churches,' observed Gerda, as 
 they lingered to look at an old bookstall. 
 ' Don't look so shocked, Bessie ; you remind 
 me of Doris when you open your eyes like 
 that. I love churches quite as much as you 
 do, but we are not all called upon to do such 
 great work, and I have always been so fond 
 of old people. It breaks my heart to see the 
 poor old creatures in workhouses, without 
 their little comforts and their warm corners.
 
 'DR. AND MISS LYALUS COMPLIMENTS' 315 
 
 They have worked so hard all their lives, 
 and it is no fault of theirs if their poor old 
 limbs lose power, or get crippled with 
 rheumatism.' 
 
 ' I have heard mother talk in much the 
 same w^ay,' returned Bessie quietly. She 
 was not sufficiently at her ease with her clever 
 cousin to venture to air her own opinions, 
 and few people guessed at the strength and 
 decision of character which lay under the 
 timid, shrinking manner. 
 
 'Aunt Clare and I think alike on most 
 points/ returned Gerda quickly. ' Don't you 
 see, Bessie, hardship does not seem to matter 
 when one is young and strong — the back is 
 fitted for the burden ; but the old are so weak, 
 they are like little children in their helpless- 
 ness : they want sunshine, kindness, a corner 
 by their own fireside, a hand held out to 
 them now and then. That is why I should 
 like to build almshouses, to keep them safe 
 and warm until they are called home.' 
 
 * Oh yes, I see what you mean,' returned 
 Bessie; and then she added, with a sort, of 
 effort, * It is a pity that old Mrs. Chalmers 
 and Mrs. Horsfall bicker so dreadfully. 
 Father had to interfere once. Mrs. Chalmers
 
 3i6 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 was SO spiteful. She slopped all over poor 
 Mrs. Horsfall's floor one day, just as she had 
 cleaned it. Mrs. Chalmers said her foot 
 slipped, and her pail tipped over, but no one 
 believes it ; it was just spitefulness on account 
 of the grocery tickets.' 
 
 * My dear child,, human nature is Imperfect, 
 even In almshouses ; but I hope Mrs. Chalmers 
 Is an exception. Why, who is that gentle- 
 man ?' — as Bessie coloured and bowed to a 
 good-looking young man who was wheeling 
 a child's perambulator on the other side of 
 the street. Gerda had noticed him before 
 Bessie had given that sign of recognition. 
 She had wondered who that striking-looking 
 man could be. There was something out of 
 the common and picturesque about him ; he 
 looked rather like a foreigner, with his olive 
 complexion and fur-lined coat, and there was 
 something Incongruous in his homely em- 
 ployment : one might as well have expected 
 to see a Bond Street lounger wheeling home 
 a truck of clean clothes. 
 
 * That is Mr. Vincent,' returned Bessie In 
 a low voice. 'He is crossing the road. I 
 think he wants to speak to us. Do you 
 mind waiting a moment, Gerda ?'
 
 'DR. AND MISS LY ALL'S COMPLIMENTS' 317 
 
 * Do you mean Mr. Julius Vincent ? Of 
 course I do not mind ;' and then both girls 
 watched the skilful propelling of the peram- 
 bulator between a coal-cart and a waggon. 
 Most people would have hesitated to cross 
 Crown Hill at that moment, but Mr. Vincent 
 seemed to have no scruple. He held up his 
 hand as a caution to an omnibus-driver, and 
 shook his head reproachfully at a cabman, 
 before he and his charge were landed safely 
 on the pavement. 
 
 ' A thousand apologies for keeping you 
 two ladies waiting,' observed Mr. Vincent, 
 raising his hat ; ' but I was on my way to 
 St. Jude's Vicarage with a note from my 
 wife ; and then Ray suddenly discovered she 
 was cold and hungry, and that we must go 
 home at once. Between my two liege ladies, 
 I was in sorry plight, until I caught sight of 
 you. Miss Bessie, and then I resolved to 
 throw myself on your goodness.' 
 
 ' I will certainly take your note, Mr. Vin- 
 cent. Poor little Ray ! She looks quite blue 
 with cold.' 
 
 ' She does indeed,' murmured Gerda, 
 with a pitying look at the child's pale face. 
 There was something painfully pathetic in
 
 3i8 SIR GODFRETS GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 the melancholy dark eyes and thin, drawn 
 features under the big hood, which told their 
 own sad tale of suffering. There is always 
 something unnatural in the idea of a mere 
 infant struggling with some cruel chronic 
 disease. It would have been a beautiful 
 little face, Gerda thought, but for the sharp 
 lines and grave, unsmiling eyes. 
 
 ' Ray wants to go home, dada,' observed 
 the child fretfully. 
 
 ' And you shall go home, my darling,' 
 returned Mr. Vincent tenderly. ' Dada is a 
 naughty, naughty man to take Ray out in 
 the cold. Ray must whip him with her new 
 little whip when she gets home, until he cries 
 out. — Miss Bessie, I am your debtor from 
 this day. Good-morning, ladies. There has 
 been no introduction, but I presume this is 
 your cousin. Miss Meredith ? — Now then, 
 Beauty bright, for the whip !' and the next 
 moment he was propelling the perambulator 
 across Crown Hill. 
 
 * What a strange man !' observed Gerda ; 
 'but he is really very handsome — and how 
 young he looks ! there is something almost 
 boyish in his manner. It seems such a droll 
 idea, wheeling that perambulator.'
 
 'DR. AND MISS LYALVS COMPLIMENTS' 319 
 
 * Oh, he always does it,' returned Bessie; 
 * and no one thinks anything of it at Crome- 
 hurst. It is just Mr. Vincent's way to do 
 odd things. I beh'eve Ray refuses to go out 
 with anyone else. He has spoilt her dread- 
 fully, and now he's a perfect slave to her 
 whims. Ray is much fonder of him than she 
 is of her mother ; but, then, poor Mrs. Vincent 
 is too busy to attend to her.' 
 
 * It seems rather a strange household,' 
 returned her cousin. ' From all accounts, 
 Mrs. Vincent and her husband have reversed 
 the usual order of things : she is the bread- 
 winner, and he takes the part of nurse. One 
 can hardly understand the position.' 
 
 ' You w^ill understand it when you go 
 there,' replied Bessie rather sadly. ' Mr. 
 Vincent is very good-natured, but he fritters 
 away his time dreadfully ; and there is so 
 little real work done, that poor Mrs. Vincent 
 is obliged to put her shoulder to the wheel. 
 Someone must work, you know. He gives 
 drawing-lessons, but people are afraid to have 
 him : they say he is too handsome and flighty 
 in manner to be safe with girls ; but mother 
 says that is nonsense, and that there is no 
 harm in him.'
 
 320 SIR GODFRETS GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 This was a long speech for Bessie, but she 
 evidently shared her father's opinion of Mr. 
 Vincent, and had scant patience with the 
 fascinating Julius. Gerda felt both curious 
 and interested. She longed to see this won- 
 derful Mrs. Vincent — the Hester who was 
 her uncle Horace's ideal, and for whom Aunt 
 Clare felt such warm affection. And then, 
 by some subtle connection of ideas, she won- 
 dered if any of Dr. Lyall's patients lived in 
 the town. It was strange to think that any 
 moment they might meet him. She longed 
 to ask Bessie if he walked or drove ; they 
 were passing Dr. Brown's house at that 
 moment, and a doctor's brougham with a bay 
 mare was standing at the door. 
 
 ' I thought Dr. Brown drove a pair of gray 
 horses ?' she observed carelessly — and the 
 bait took. 
 
 ' So he does,' returned Bessie innocently ; 
 * that is Dr. Lyall's brougham. He told 
 mother the other day that he could not well 
 afford a carriage until his practice increased, 
 but the long distances obliged him to keep 
 one. It is rather a shabby brougham, but, 
 then, Dr. Lyall does not care about appear- 
 ances.
 
 * 1 dare say not,' was the brief answer, and 
 then Gerda grew a Httle absent. 
 
 Her colour rose slightly when, by-and-by, 
 she heard wheels behind them. She hardly 
 ventured to look round as the brougham 
 passed them. She slackened her pace in- 
 voluntarily as it stopped again before a house, 
 and Dr. Lyall descended. Evidently he had 
 not seen them : he went up the steps quickly 
 and let himself in ; it must be his own house, 
 but Gerda never glanced at it as she went by. 
 She felt a little chilled — disappointed. Could 
 it be possible that, alter all, he had seen them 
 and avoided recognition ? He knew of her 
 arrival — she had been two whole days in the 
 place; and of course Pamela had called on her. 
 After all, why should she torment herself in 
 this way ? He was reading his paper — doctors 
 always read their paper — why need he stare 
 at every passer-by.'^ He might be absorbed 
 in thought of some critical operation, or per- 
 haps one of his patients was worse — dying. 
 Doctors must be different from other men ; 
 they went from one sick-bed to another; their 
 life was so crowded with interest, such 
 awful interest, it was no wonder they could 
 pass their friends without seeing them. 
 
 VOL. I. 2 1
 
 322 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 Gerda felt a little comforted when she 
 arrived at this point, but she was a trifle rest- 
 less, and her uncle's discourse at luncheon fell 
 on deaf ears ; she only roused into animation 
 when Mrs. Glyn spoke of their afternoon 
 visit. 
 
 ' Should you mind going very early ?' she 
 asked. ' If we are fashionable, and arrive 
 about tea-time, we shall have to put up with 
 Mr. Vincent's society, and I think w^e women 
 would like a little chat by ourselves first.' 
 
 ' No one would doubt that for a moment, 
 my dear,' replied Mr. Glyn dryly, as he rose 
 from the table — which was rather unhand- 
 some on the Vicar's part, as he had kept the 
 conversation in his own hands for the last 
 half-hour ; * I think a woman would rather go 
 without her food than without talking.' 
 
 But Mrs. Glyn was not to be damped by 
 her husband's sarcasm. 
 
 ' When Hester and I get together, we 
 have a real interesting talk/ she returned 
 brightly. * You need not shake your head, 
 Horace ; men like gossip just as well as we 
 do ; and I expect there is plenty of small- 
 talk at the clubs.' 
 
 ' Aunt Clare,' interrupted Gerda mischie-
 
 'DR. AND MISS LY ALL'S COMPLIMENTS' 323 
 
 vously, * do you remember Lord Houghton's 
 famous speech ? " There is nothing so weary- 
 ing as continually playing at superiority." 
 There is a great deal of preaching at us poor 
 women folk ; but I expect the men talk 
 scandal too.' 
 
 ' Pax, pax ! returned Mr. Glyn, with a 
 gesture as though he were brushing off some 
 noxious insect ; ' one woman is enouorh for 
 me to manage. Have your own way, my dear, 
 as long as I am not obliged to hear your 
 conversation. I will put no veto upon it ; 
 Eve's daughters have all a strong family 
 likeness,' and with this scathing remark the 
 Vicar retired to his study to prepare himself 
 for his afternoon's labours. 
 
 ' I think I shall get to like Uncle Horace 
 in time,' thought Gerda, as she went up to 
 her room ; 'he is dictatorial, but he is not 
 nearly so severe as he used to be : he is more 
 careful of other people's feehngs.' 
 
 Gerda was surprised to find that they would 
 have to pass Roadside again on their way 
 to Daintree Road ; but this time she ventured 
 on a glance. It was rather a high, narrow 
 house, and only an area railing separated it 
 from the pavement. A flight of steps led to
 
 324 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 the door, and the windows had wire blinds 
 to ensure privacy. 
 
 ' You must not judge from the outside,' 
 observed Mrs. Glyn, as though she feared 
 some deprecating remark. ' Roadside is 
 not a modern house, but it is really very 
 comfortable, and its low rent induced Dr. 
 Lyall to take it. The two windows on the left 
 belong to the dining-room, and the study is 
 on the other side ; Pamela's drawing-room is 
 upstairs. Ah, here comes the little lady ! I 
 believe she was on the watch for us.' 
 
 Pamela came down the steps with great 
 dignity. She had two little notes in her hand, 
 which she delivered with great solemnity. 
 ' For Mrs. Glyn and Miss Meredith, with 
 Dr. and Miss Lyall's compliments,' she 
 lisped — Pamela had an engaging little lisp 
 when she chose. And then she turned, as 
 though to go up the steps again ; but Mrs. 
 Glyn detained her. 
 
 'What does this mean, Pamela? — not an 
 invitation to dinner, I hope.' 
 
 * You must not be too sanguine, Mrs. Glyn ; 
 you will find it all correct. " Dr. and Miss 
 Lyall request the pleasure, etc. — R.S.V.P." I 
 got printed cards on purpose. Shall I walk
 
 'DR. AND MISS LYALL'S COMPLIMENTS' 325 
 
 with you to the corner of Daintree Road ?' 
 she continued : * cart-ropes would not drag 
 me farther. I do love a nice bitinof east 
 wind ; it seems to put life into one. I shall 
 go for a five- mile walk, and think of my sins. 
 I am half inclined to fetch Jessie Brown, just 
 by way of penance, only I dare not trust my 
 temper.' 
 
 ' Pamela,' interrupted Mrs. Glyn reprov- 
 ingly, as she read the note, * there was no 
 need for all this ceremony. I meant to ask 
 you and your brother to come in one even- 
 ing ; but why should you put yourselves to 
 such trouble ? My husband has not a single 
 evening free for the next week, and I hardly 
 like to leave him.' 
 
 * You and Alick must settle that between 
 you,' returned Pamela indifferently. ' I have 
 had my orders, and I am carrying them out. 
 There has been a grand scene of reconcilia- 
 tion, and I am on my best behaviour. I 
 think the meagre diet yesterday had a salu- 
 tary effect on my high and mighty brother, 
 for he condescended to ask me to show him 
 the intended bill of fare. But it was still 
 simmering in my brain. "If you are a good 
 girl, Pam, and give us a decent dinner, you
 
 326 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 may have Derrick down." Was not that a 
 bribe ?' 
 
 * Did they fare so very badly yesterday ?' 
 asked Mrs. Glyn anxiously ; and Pamela's 
 eyes sparkled with naughty fun. 
 
 ' Well, it was a cold night, you see, and a 
 leg of mutton on the third day is never very 
 inviting ; but there were pickles — plenty of 
 pickles — and with bread and cheese ' 
 
 ' Pamela, how could you be so unfeeling ! 
 It was really barbarous treatment to those 
 poor tired men,' really waxing a little warm 
 in her sympathy. ' It was carrying a joke 
 too far — it was almost ill-natured.' But 
 Pamela took this outburst with surprising 
 meekness. 
 
 ' I think I must call for Jessie Brown,' she 
 observed with a deep sigh, ' or the fruits of 
 repentance will be wanting. What a pity 
 both I\Ir. Glyn and Mr. Higginbotham dis- 
 approve of auricular confession — it would be 
 such a comfortable ordinance to a sinner like 
 myself.' 
 
 'Pamela, do not be irreverent!' And then, 
 after a moment's reflection, ' I rather wonder 
 at Dr. Lyall. I should have thought last 
 night's experience would have prevented
 
 DR. AXD MISS LYALVS COMPLIMENTS' 5^7 
 
 his inviting anyone to dinner for a long 
 
 time.' 
 
 ' Oh dear no ! Besides, I promised faith- 
 fully that such a thing should never happen 
 again. Well, here we are at Daintree Road. 
 Give my love to Hester;' and Pamela nodded 
 to them both, and whisked round the corner. 
 
 * Aunt Clare,' asked Gerda in a dubious 
 tone, ' do yon not think that Pamela treats 
 her brother very badly ?* 
 
 * I think I shall decline to answer that 
 question. I am afraid they are rather an 
 ill-assorted couple to live together. Pamela 
 ought to have married, and Hester should 
 have kept her brother's house. Things always 
 went smoothly in the old times — he has 
 told me so over and over again. '* When 
 Hester married, I had no more home com- 
 fort," he said once. It is my belief that 
 Pamela is really devoted to her brother, 
 and that in some way he repels and dis- 
 appoints her. She is a most exacting little 
 person, and all this flightiness and nonsense 
 is her mode of taking revenge. If only 
 Dr. Lyall could afford a wife! but Hesters 
 unlucky marriage has only added to his 
 responsibilities. He is one of the best
 
 328 SIR GODFREY'S GRAND-DAUGHTERS 
 
 brothers — indeed, one of the best men I 
 know.' And with this splendid eulogium 
 on Dr. Lyall, Mrs. Glyn paused at the gate 
 of a large old-fashioned house, standing 
 rather far back from the road, with ' Esta- 
 blishment for Young Ladies ' on a glittering 
 brass plate. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS, GUILDFORD. 
 
 G., C. 6^ Cc.
 
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 feir 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 
 
 0112 041668960 
 
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