OF THE UN IVERSITY or ILLINOIS 823 E>72B ROGER NORTH. VOL. r ROGER NORTH BY MRS. JOHN BRADSHAW. VOL. I. LONDON : W. SWAN SONNENSCHEIN AND CO PATERNOSTER SQUARE. Printed by Hazell, Watson & Viney, Limited London and Aylesbury CONTENTS. VOL. I. CHAPTER I. FATHER AND DAUGHTER . ^' II. MOTHER AND SON .^ HI. SUNSHINE AND SHADE ^, ^ IV. THE SHADOW ON THE WALL . V. THE SHADOW DEEPENS VI. ON THE BRINK .... ^^ VIL ACROSS THE DARK RIVER . ^VIII. A LONG FAREWELL . I IX. NOT AN UNCOMMON CASE ^ X. THE NEW HOME ^ XL CASTLE BUILDING rO ^ XIT. BARBARA FINDS A FRIEND C| XIIL THE FATES SPIN THEIR THREAD ^ XIV. ROGER MAKES UP HIS MIND . ■5 XV. TOO LATE I 19 38 57 73 95 III 116 137 159 177 196 215 235 256 CHAPTER I. FATHER AND DAUGHTER. It was a lovely June evening, some twelve years ago. The sun had set, leaving a rich, mellow glow in the sky ; and upon the delicate background all objects stood out in strong relief. The scene was one familiar to English eyes — an English country home — a rectory house, old-fashioned, square, built of brick, but with the crude colour of the brick toned down by washes of softer tints. Taken alone, its out- lines were undeniably ugly ; but age and creepers, with moss-grown corners and crevices, gave it a loveliness which the most perfect of newly-finished architecture could not claim — a loveliness which spoke of domestic history and home. A pleasant garden, with smooth lawns and VOL. I. I ROGER NORTH. tall, shady trees, surrounded the old house. Divided from it by a road stood the venerable church, whose tower and spire, either from the crumbling incident to old age, or from a fault in their original construction, seemed unable to support the burden laid upon them, and trembled ominously as the bells rang loud and cheerily. For it was the weekly practising night, and the men of Belton were proud of their bells, and no less proud of their skill and reputation, sparing no pains to let the world hear both. Stretching northwards, the road soon became the village street, near enough for children's shouts and laughter to be borne upon the evening air, such time as the softer modulations or dropping of the bells permitted other sounds to be heard. The bells were somewhat deaf- ening in the rectory garden, but the only person to be seen there this evening would have indig- nantly denied such a suggestion had any one ventured to make it in her presence. From one of the stiff, square windows, steps led down to the garden path ; and on the steps sat a young girl, with a big Newfoundland dog at her side. Her white dress and crimson FATHER AND DAUGHTER. ribbons looked all the brighter when contrasted with the gloom of the oak-panelled room behind. So did her fair hair and fresh, young complexion. She had no strict claims to beauty ; but hers was an interesting and sympathetic face, with eyes and mouth ever ready to weep or smile. Perhaps her most characteristic fea- ture was the delicate nose, slightly retroussd, and lending to her whole countenance a charm- ing air of piquancy. For the rest, she was tall, with a graceful, supple figure ; and the arm which she had thrown across her companion's neck was white and rounded. Just now smiles were rippling over the girl's bright .face, and her joyous laughter rang in unison with the merry bells, as she teased her big dog with many a quaint gesture of hand and face, talking to him after a somewhat childish fashion for a maiden of eighteen summers. ''You stupid old Rover!" she said, ''why can't you laugh too, and enjoy a good joke, instead of being such a dear, solemn old thing!" But solemn he remained, with a dignity that rebuked her levity, as he sat upright on his ROGER NORTH. haunches, and from time to time flopped his heavy tail on the stone steps, with an air of condescension that resembled a staid, elderly person permitting the gambols of some frolic- some child. Presently there was a firm tread on the gravel path, and a man came up to the girl's side, and stood, with an amused smile, looking down on her and the dog. The clanging and crashing of the bells were at their loudest ; the ringers were giving out their final peal, which, with the girl's own talk and laughter, prevented her from hearing the approaching footsteps. What is the subtle cause of certain associations fixing themselves indelibly in the mind ? Why was it that in after years this man seldom heard the same pealing bells without vividly recalling the girl as he saw her then — in all her bright, glad youth, and before a single serious trouble had left its shadow on her face ? The bells dropped with one or two lingering clangs ; the distant voices from the village, and the rasping croak of a corncrake in the neigh- bouring field, suddenly became audible in the stillness of the summer evening ; the spell was FATHER AND DAUGHTER. broken; the girl quickly turned her head, saw the new comer, and, placing her hand in his, spoke some words of greeting. The face on which she looked was a plea- sant one, with broad brow and honest, hand- some, deep blue eyes ; a face which would instantly inspire confidence in woman or child. The man was of middle height, broad-shouldered and strongly built, apparently some thirty years of age. He wore a rough shooting suit, while a fishing-basket, which was Slung over his shoulder, and a rod in his left hand, bore witness to his recent occupation. " Good evening, Kate," he responded to her welcome, as he seated himself on the stone step. Then, when he had laid down the basket and rod with the air of a man quite at home, he looked up at her with a mischievous, smile, and remarked, — '' Idling again ? " " What do you mean, Roger, by your ' idling again ' ? " she answered, somewhat indignantly. *' I am not idling at all " — this emphasized by a stamp of her little foot. " I am only resting after a very hard day's work." Roger laughed, and said, — ROGER NORTH. ** Well, Kate, tell us what a hard day's work means in your vocabulary ?" ** Yes, I will ; and I am sure It has been quite as fully occupied as any day of yours. To begin, I got up early. Yes, really and truly early," she repeated, as Roger laughed once more ; ''and I meant to have read a double portion of history, because Mrs. Stephens scolded me dreadfully about forgetting It yesterday ; then, unfortunately, I had left the book down- stairs ; and the' morning was so lovely that it tempted me to run out-of-doors. Rover came too, and we went round the garden, and saw all the cows and horses, which made the time pass so quickly that breakfast was ready when we came In. You know father always likes to linger over breakfast, and there only remained time to fill the flower vases before eleven o'clock service. After that I ran into the school for a few minutes ; then there was Mrs. Bertram's new baby to visit — such a little darling ! The poor woman had nothing nice to eat, and I came home to fetch some broth from Mamsle. As I returned the second time, Mrs. Lambert stopped me with one of her fearfully long stories. Poor thing!" Kate went on, sympathetically, FATHER AND DAUGHTER. *' she really has a great many troubles, although she takes a long time to tell them. To-day I could not wait to hear everything she had to tell, because I knew father would be expecting me. After luncheon I really meant to have read and practised ; but when going upstairs I caught sight of the hayfield through the passage window, and I had not been there once. Just think of that, Roger ! " " True self-denial," said he ; ^' but go on." *' Weil, no sooner thought of than done," continued Kate. " It was no fun going into the hay all alone, so I ran across to Mrs. Cuthbert's, and found the poor woman up to her eyes in work. She is letting some of her rooms to lodgers for the summer, and was busy preparing for them. She said Dr. Cuthbert would be put out if the house were not in something like order when he came home. So she was only too thankful to let me take the children, and keep the nurse to put things straight. After that we had a glorious afternoon in the hayfield. Mamsie brought us tea there, and father came to sit with us. It was seven o'clock when I took the children back and I really feel quite tired." With this Kate settled herself against ROGER NORTH. the window- frame, in an attitude of greater repose. " No wonder," said Roger, who had watched her as if the face that looked so much in earnest over all she said were sweet to gaze upon, and as if the tones of her fresh young voice were pleasant to his ears. " But where is your father ? " he added. " Just inside," replied Kate, " writing ; but it is too dark ; " and she leaned back, crying, " Father, Roger .is here. Put down your writing, and come to us. It is such a glorious evening, and Mamsie will bring tea in a minute." ''Yes, my dear," answered a voice from within the room " I will come directly." '' I quite forgot to ask where you have been, and if you want any dinner," said Kate, turn- ing again to Roger. " I have been at the Mill Pool, and dined before going there," he replied. " My mother likes an early dinner in summer-time ; she says it reminds her of the days when she was young, and when people kept reasonable hours. I came here because I thought some of Mrs. Vale's excellent tea and cakes would be accept- FATHER AND DAUGHTER. able before walking home. I told my mother I should bring the rector some fish if I caught any." ''Well! and what have you caught?" she asked. '' A good many weeds and one pike — a fish which I think your father likes." '' Do you, father ? " said Kate, as she laid her cheek caressingly upon a delicate though withered hand now resting on her shoulder. " I am sure I don't ; they are full of such horrid little bones." " Good evening. Rector," said Roger, rising courteously, and taking the proffered hand of a tall, handsome old man who stood at the open window. " Good evening, Roger," was the answer, given with a pleasant smile of welcome. " Have you been scolding my little daughter here for her butterfly existence ? " '' No, he has not done so yet," Interposed Kate, " but I know by the look on his face that he has the intention when he gets a chance. He and Mrs. Stephens are both too bad — he always lecturing me about anything and every- thing ; and she always urging me to Improve ROGER NORTH. myself — to read, to work, to draw, to practise ; and I don't believe the pair of them ever do me the least bit of good ; not half so much as you, father dear, who never lecture me ; " and she gave his hand another loving pressure. '' Well," said Roger, '' at least you bear us no malice. When is the day that you don't go to Mrs. Stephens (of your own free will) to be improved ? " " I have not been to-day, sir, for one," said Kate, laughing. '* For some very good reason, I expect," retorted Roger. *'Well," admitted Kate, ''she certainly did go to Roster for the day to shop, and to meet some friends." Roger was laughing at her lame defence when they were interrupted by the opening of the room door to admit a servant, who came forward with all the freedom belonging to a privileged domestic. She was a tall and angular woman, with features strongly marked, and decidedly plain. Her dress was black, and very neat ; and on her smooth dark hair she wore a small cap, trimmed with lavender- coloured ribbons, long streamers of which were FATHER AND DAUGHTER. ii floating behind. A white fleecy wrap hung upon her arm. "■ Excuse me, sir," she said, ''but at this time of the evening, after running about all day in the hot sun, Miss Kate must not be sitting there without something over her shoulders." So saying, and unheeding Kate's playful remonstrance, " Oh, you fussy, tiresome Mamsie ! " she placed the wrap around her nursling with more gentle and loving care than her appearance, at first sight, would have suggested. '' And, my dear," she continued, '' Patty wants to know, do you wish to have the tea brought here, or to the drawing-room ? " '' Here, by all means," replied the girl. '' It is too delicious to move." '* Good evening, Mrs. Vale," said Roger. "" Pray remember to send us some of your cakes with the tea ; I have come here on purpose to eat them ; for I never taste any others half so good." The old servant dropped a stiff old-fashioned curtsey, and, smiling, not ill-pleased at the compliment, she said, — '' Thank you kindly, sir ; and though I say 12 ROGER NORTH. it who shouldn't, I believe they are better than are mostly made nowadays. And may I make so bold as to ask how Madam North is to-day ?" '' Quite well, thank you," answered Roger. " By the way, she asked me to say she would call at three o'clock to-morrow, about the cloth- ing club, I think, if you were likely to be in." Mrs. Vale replied in the affirmative, and left the room. Soon Patty came, bringing the tea and cakes, which she placed on a litde table by the open window. Kate attended to the wants of her two com- panions before reseating herself on the steps, where she placed a plate of cakes by her side, and within Roger's easy reach. All this time Rover had watched the pro- ceedings with great impatience and watering mouth ; but now it was his turn to be attended to, and he was liberally feasted. Kate was giving him a third cake when she looked gravely at Roger, and remarked, — " I don't know which of you two R's, Roger or Rover, likes cake best. I never saw a man of your age so fond of cake. I wonder what the reason is ? " FATHER AND DAUGHTER. 13 '' Perhaps because I don't smoke," he repHed. *'And why don't you smoke?" she asked. '' I have often wondered why. Most men do. Don't you Hke it ? " '' Oh, yes," said Roger, simply, " I like it well enough, and used to smoke a good deal at Oxford ; but my mother dislikes it in the house, and even the smell on my clothes. I tried at first to smoke in the open air, but she always found me out. It was not worth while annoy- ing her about it, and so I gave it up." " Oh ! " ejaculated Kate, with a significant look and tone, conveying a meaning beyond that which the little word itself expressed. Mr. Galbraith now joined in the conversation with a remark concerning some of his parish- ioners, who were also Roger North's tenants ; and the three sat on, enjoying the delicious evening coolness. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they were silent ; but in either case, there was that perfect want of gate which showed them to be frequent and Intimate companions. At last Roger looked at his watch. It was past ten; he must linger no longer. Still there 14 ROGER NORTH. were a few more parting words before he bid them good-night, and walked rapidly away. The two watched him until he passed out of sight along the garden path. " Poor fellow ! What a frigid reception he will get for having stayed here so late," said Kate, with a quaint expression of pity. Then father and daughter went in-doors, and Rover remained alone outside, The old dog stretched himself on the gravelly path, luxuriat- ing in the warm night air; and then he fell asleep, to dream, perchance, of his next feast off Mrs. Vale's good cakes. An hour later, no lights were burning in the house, save in the rector's study. It was his usual habit to sit long and late over his books and papers; but to-night he could not chain his wandering thoughts to the work before him. At first he made an effort to do so, until finding it to be without success, he leant back in his chair, and fell into a reverie. There are times when the strongest succumb to a power which seems to be outside them- selves, and beyond their own control. Then they have nor will nor strength to thrust away the thoughts which are presented to them. At FATHER AND DAUGHTER. 15 such times ghosts of the past rise up with a startling realism ; and they seem to live once more in days and scenes which have lain long years dormant in their memory. Thus it was with Mr. Galbraith. He tried to free himself from the mysterious influences which crept upon his senses. He rose, walked to the window, and looked out upon the calm, starry night. But it was in vain — the spell was on him ; and, returning to his chair, he yielded to its promptings. One by one the forms which had been familiar in that very room returned — not spirit-like, but as in very flesh and blood. He lived again the time when, as a man in the prime of life, he brought his bride to this same old rectory, and joyfully showed her the dark, oak-panelled study where she was to bring light and gladness to shine upon him as he laboured. He realised afresh how, little by little, that sweet dream of loving companionship had died away. His bride was beautiful, but cold as the sculp- tured marble her chiselled features so closely resembled ; and beneath that fair exterior he possessed no power to penetrate. Fewer and i6 ROGER NORTH. fewer were her visits to the study ; and more and more he sought for consolation In his books — rarely leaving them, save to answer the calls of duty In his parish. After a time, there was a laughing, merry child, who ran in and out of his dark room, bringing sunshine to the father's wounded heart — his little daughter Mary, who seemed the only link between him and his cold, beautiful wife. Gradually that wife's fair cheek grew thin and wan ; and at last the day came when he knelt by her bedside, and listened to her dying words. " Forgive me," she whispered. " I wronged you when I married you. My heart was given to another. I thought I was strong enough to kill my love, but it has ended by killing me. I leave you our little child ; may she grow to take the place I should have filled ; or may you find another to love you as I could not." Mary's was the only face that haunted the study until she grew to be twelve years old. But the soul of the man still yearned for a sympathy and companionship which were be- yond her power to give. At last these came. FATHER AND DAUGHTER. A visit to a college friend, of which every- day and hour stood out clear and strong in his faithful memory, brought him to know that friend's young sister. And the man of nigh fifty years experienced a love which startled him by its intensity. This time his love was returned with all the strength of a true woman's pure devotion ; and once more he brought a bride to that old house, and the longing of his heart for love and sympathy was more than satisfied. But, alas ! for all too short a time. Kate was born to be another sunbeam in the noon- day of their happiness, then a second child — and child and fair young mother were laid together in the old churchyard. For a time Mary and the little Kate — the darling of her father's heart — came and went, brightening the old study. At last, in early womanhood, Mary left her father's roof, with his blessing following her to distant lands, whither she went to share the fortunes of her husband. And now, for ten summers, Kate alone had gladdened his declining years ; and soothed, though not quenched, the longing for what had been. VOL. I. % ROGER NORTH. Such were the memories which crowded through the rector's mind as he dreamed hour after hour. The clock in the old church- tower struck one — struck two — in tones that sounded solemnly in the stillness of the night. At last the old man rose. But one of the figures in his reverie must still have lingered by him when he fell asleep, for he did so, softly breathing, "Not long now, darling, not long now." And the stars, which shone down upon the sleeping world, were not more pure and bright than were the visions, which came to him in dreams, of the young wife he had loved so dearly and lost so soon. CHAPTER II. MOTHER AND SON. Roger's walk home was not a long one. The distance between the village of Belton and Belton Hall was but little over a mile even along the road, and by the way he went it was somewhat less. At first he followed a path leading across the fields, and vaulted actively over stiles which were apparently constructed to cause difficulty and vexation to the aged or stout. Then he turned from the beaten track, took a short cut, and leaping a fence, was in the park which surrounded his house. The walk was pleasant in the summer twilight. The air was sweet with the scent of new-mown hay. Dog-roses, honeysuckle, and many other hedge-row flowers gave out their delicate perfume ; for the neighbourhood was one which could boast of the luxurious 20 ROGER NORTH. growth of every kind of wild-flower. Yet, four miles north of Belton, a low range of hills formed the dividing line between this and a very different landscape ; for behind it lay one of England's vast workshops, known in common parlance by the appropriate name of "the Black Country." During the daytime there was little to remind the more fortunate inhabitants to the south of their comparatively near neighbours, who lived in their colourless world — all grey and black, without a growing tree or blade of green grass to relieve the weary eye. But at night the furnaces of Vulcan cast a glow upon the sky, which was faintly visible even in clear moonlight, and in the darkness of winter was red and lowering, telling of ceaseless noise and toil. To the south and west of Belton lovers of nature could turn with greater pleasure, for there lay a lovely English country, with a fair extent of hill and vale, richly wooded and well watered. Little of this last was visible, as Roger trod rapidly homewards, but had it been broadest daylight he would not have noticed his sur- roundings ; for he was in deep thought. Plea- MOTHER AND SON. 21 sant thought it seemed to be, judged by the smile which parted his Hps, and the bright, glad light in his eyes. And so in truth it was, for he was busily maturing plans for a summer excursion among the lovely haunts well known to anglers, in North Wales. The excursion that he meditated was no solitary ramble, but one in which Kate and her father were to have a share. On three or four previous occasions they had made similar expeditions ; staying at picturesque country inns, and spending their days fishing beside the streams, or in long rides and drives to different points of interest. He had not mentioned his plan to the rector, but he intended to do so at the earliest oppor- tunity ; and it was the memory of past excur- sions, and the anticipation of similar or greater pleasure from the one he had now in view, which shone so brightly on his face. Roger had a keen love for outdoor sports, and his love of angling was shared by the studious rector. Both had been constant companions by stream and pool since Roger's father inherited the Belton property from an elder brother, some thirteen years before the present time. Soon Kate began to accompany 22 ROGER NORTH. them, and it was hard to say which of the three most enjoyed the gentle sport. Nor was it alone when fishing that the young man and the little girl had enjoyed each other's companion- ship. For Roger had taught Kate to skate, ^and given her many a riding lesson as she cantered on her little pony, by the side of his hunter, along the lovely Rostershire lanes. He would willingly have taken her out with the hounds, but this the rector would not permit. But when Kate was quite a little girl he had been in the habit of taking her out shooting, until a new governess at the rectory had threat- ened to throw up her charge unless the custom were discontinued. Small wonder then that, with neither brother nor sister of his own, Roger should have come to regard every pleasure as incomplete which was not shared by Kate ; small wonder that he should be so absorbed in plans which he knew would give her pleasure ; or that, rousing him- self as from a dream, he awoke to find that he had arrived at the end of his walk, and was in the terraced garden which surrounded his home. The house was built in the modern Elizabethan style, with deep and mullioned bay windows. MOTHER AND SON. 2^ It was of that comfortable size so frequently to be found among English country houses — large enough for comfort, but not too large for the air of home to pervade each corner. As Roger passed on to the entrance door, he noticed lights from the drawing-room win- dows, which told him that his mother was still there. He laid his fishing-tackle down upon a bllllard-table that stood In the centre of an inner hall, and went to her at once. A little of the sunshine died from his face as he opened the door, and entered the lofty and well-proportioned room. Its sole occupant was a lady, sitting upright In an armchair by the fireplace. A half-knitted stocking was on her lap, and a book and open letter lay on a table at her elbow ; but her thoughts were apparently busy with other things. She seemed some sixty years of age, tall and thin, and might have been handsome once, but all that remained was a somewhat hard-featured face, which had been deeply furrowed by anxiety and sorrow at some earlier period of her life. There was not a trace about her of those little feminine touches of soft colour and delicate lace, by which women most allowably tone down the 24 ROGER NORTH. ravages of time. Her dress was of black silk — of good quality, but made in the plainest manner — with white collar and cuffs, and her yet dark hair was partially concealed by a cap — not exactly a widow's cap, but of a style which only a widow would wear. The room was a reflection of her person. Its furniture and hangings were rich and hand- some ; some good paintings in water-colours hung upon the walls ; but the ornaments, though costly in themselves, showed no sign of the presiding taste of a mistress in their arrange- ment on chimney-piece, cabinet, and consol- table. All seemed placed formally and accu- rately as by the hand of a careful servant. None of the little knicknacks dear to the heart of most womenkind were to be found; no small tables, antique lace, or bits of china intruded themselves upon the symmetrical regularity. Except for the fact that there was a lady sitting in the room with book and work, it looked as if never used, unless on state occasions, or for formal calls or dinner-parties. Mrs. North looked towards the door as her son entered. ' You are late, Roger," she said, coldly. MOTHER AND SON. 25 *' Yes, mother. I stayed rather longer talk- ing at the rectory than 1 intended. I am sorry if you have sat up for me." ''I have been waiting, because I wished to speak to you," replied Mrs. North ; '* but first ring the bell, and I will tell Martin that he can close the house." Roger complied with his mother's request, seated himself on the opposite side of the fire- place, and took up a paper, as he saw that she did not intend to commence the conversation until they were secure from the chances of interruption. The bell was answered by a grey-headed butler and a somewhat ancient footman in livery. Mrs. North gave her orders for the night in a few brief words, and took up her knitting, while the servants shut the windows and closed the shutters. Before retiring, the butler asked if his master had any further orders. "Nothing, thank you, Martin," he replied " except a lamp in the study." When Roger and his mother were alone, the former laid down his paper, and said pleasantly " Well, mother, what have you to tell me ? " 26 ROGER NORTH. '* I will not detain you long, Roger ; but I had a letter this afternoon from your cousin Constance, and I wished to speak to you about it. You will remember that I told you a few days ago that I was writing to ask her to come to Belton on her way to Scotland?" Roger had forgotten, and he suppressed a sigh as the thought struck him that this visit might interfere with the fishing expedition, of which his mind had been so full when walking home. Mrs. North took up the letter which lay by her side, and, referring to it, she continued : " Constance tells me that her father is taking a house for the Goodwood week, and that they are inviting a large party of friends to join them ; therefore she cannot come here before the 28th or 29th of July. She adds that she is sorry that this arrangement will make her visit a short one, because Sir John has quite set his mind on you and 1 being with them in Scotland for the 1 2th, and she suggests that we can all travel together ; starting not later than the 9th or loth." Had Mrs. North glanced at her son, she would have seen anything but a pleased expres- MOTHER AND SON. 2'] sion on his countenance ; but she was turning to the last page of her niece's letter, and pre- sently continued : — " Constance concludes with a message for you : '■ Give my love to Roger, and tell him that my father begs he will excuse a formal invitation, because he is too busy to write himself ; he looks forward to Roger being of our party at Goodwood, and hopes he will come to town in time to go down with us. You may tell Roger from me that I will send him to Coventry, when I come to Belton, if he refuses.' " Mrs. North folded the letter, and looked at her son. " I really cannot go, mother," he exclaimed, impetuously. " I am a regular fish out of water among all those fine ladies." " May I ask if you have been making any other plans for the summer?" inquired Mrs. North, frigidly. The colour mounted to Roger's face, but he answered frankly : '' To tell the truth, I had been thinking of a fishing expedition with the rector to the Vale of Llangollen, which is much more in my line, as you know." 28 ROGER NORTH. '' Is Kate to be of the party ? " *' Of course." '' 'Of course,' " echoed Mrs. North. '' But If you are bent upon this scheme, why should you not do both ? " It was with an effort that the mother made even this concession, and she watched him keenly to see what effect it would have. Roger did not answer immediately ; he stood leaning his elbow on the chimney-piece, and resting his head upon his hand ; looking mus- ingly down on the housemaid's prim and inartistic decorations in the grate. After a few minutes spent In consideration, he spoke. " It is impossible to do both. I know the rector cannot leave home until the last week in July, and I proposed to join you In Scotland direct from Wales." A frown of displeasure came over Mrs. North's face, and she said, — "You surely cannot mean to treat your cousin with such disregard, and allow her to come here on a visit to find her host absent ! parti- cularly since she has put herself to some inconvenience and refused several invitations In order to accept this one." MOTHER AND SON. 29 Roger checked, by a strong effort, the words which were rising to his lips — words to the effect of nothing being further from his wishes and intentions than that any such sacrifice on his account should be made by his cousin. In truth, if he had thought about the matter since his mother had first mentioned it, his thoughts had taken the form of a hope that Constance's many engagements would prevent her from paying a visit to Belton. He turned the matter over in his mind for a minute or two, and then replied, — '' Of course, my dear mother, as Constance is coming I will not be absent. How would it be," he continued, his face brightening, *' for you to go with her to Scotland, and for me to follow after a week's fishing ? " Mrs. North's countenance had cleared a little, but his concluding suggestion did not appear to please her. "Your uncle would be much offended, and justly, Roger," she said, " If you are not there on the 1 2th; and I cannot conceive why you should prefer fishing In Wales to such grouse- shooting as he can offer. You must not think of such a thing ; especially If you have made 30 ROGER NORTH. Up your mind to refuse this invitation to Goodwood." *' At least don't press me to go to Goodwood, mother. I have been at the Erskines' once this season — more to please you than myself — and I don't wish to be a victim a second time. We shall have quite enough of fine company during our Scotch visits ; it is bearable there, as one has not to be dressed like a tailor's model ; and the pure air of the moors seems to have the happy effect of making everybody a little more natural." Mrs. North remained silent, but with an expression which her son knew he could not remove without yielding to her wishes. He left the fire-place, and paced the room once or twice while he again revolved the matter in his mind. He tried in vain to find a middle course between giving up his own plans and displeasing his mother. " Luckily," he thought, '' I have not mentioned the fishing scheme to Kate ; she will be spared the disappointment any way. It is after all only my own pleasure that will be affected. Well ! there is an end of that castle in the air." He gave a slight sigh, and came to Mrs. North's side. MOTHER AND SON. 31 ''All right, mother," he said, in his usual cheery tone; "it shall be as you wish — the fishing expedition shall go to the wall. I will try to do my duty as host when a young lady like Constance condescends to visit us ; and I will escort you both to Annick Castle whenever it pleases you to go. As to Goodwood, I will write my apologies to-morrow." His mother saw that, having gained her chief point, she had better drop further persuasion on the subject of Goodwood. Although she believed Kroger to be easily led, she hesitated instinctively from pushing him too far. She had long cherished a wish that Constance should become her son's wife. Constance was the only daughter of a sister, whose husband, Sir John Erskine, was a wealthy man, and who could well afford to richly dower his daughter, without interfering with the prospects of two older sons. Mrs. North was influenced by this consideration quite as much as by affection for her niece ; though, strangely enough, she was very fond of the girl, who was in every way a contrast to herself. The desire to throw Roger and Constance more closely together had been the mainspring of her plans 32 ROGER NORTH. for the ensuing summer. Of late, too, she had begun to look upon his intimacy with Kate Galbraith as a possible source of danger. She had every reason to be gratified by her success when the fishing party was given up, and Constance's visit to the Hall secured. Her voice had, therefore, a more gracious tone when she continued — '' Very well, Roger; and now it only remains for me to tell you that I think the time of Constance's visit would afTord a good oppor- tunity for returning the hospitalities of our neighbours. What do you say to a garden party ? " ** And a dance in the evening," said Roger, as the thought flashed through his mind that Kate would greatly enjoy such a piece of gaiety. "It will be the easiest thing in the world to turn out the music-room for an occasion of that sort, and the parquetry floor is just made for it." "Very well, if you wish it," replied his mother, ignorant of the motive which inspired him. " We will talk over the details to-morrow. It is getting late now." Roger kissed his mother affectionately when they parted for the night ; and she, pleased MOTHER AND SON, 33 with his acquiescence to her wishes, returned his caress with a slight relaxation from her usual coldness. Then, when she had gone, with her stately, measured step, up the wide oak staircase and out of sight along the corridor, he walked thoughtfully to another part of the house, and entered his special sanctum — the study, as it was called, for want of a better name. The principal part of the furniture was that which Roger had used in his rooms at college. There were also some well-filled book- shelves, a few pictures and photographs on the walls ; whilst a large escritoire, scattered with papers and writing materials, showed that business was transacted within its precincts. Guns, whips, and fishing gear were in profusion, and filled every spare corner. A collection of pipes was conspicuous over the mantelpiece, for though Roger himself refrained from smoking, he insisted that his friends should not be forced to imitate his voluntary self- denial. The lamp on a centre table was burning low when Roger entered ; he turned it up, and the light fell brightly on an open map and books. This recalled at once his interrupted Welsh VOL. I. 3 34 ROGER NORTH. excursion, as he had been studying these same guide-books and map in* the morning ; and had ordered a light to the room for the purpose of continuing his study before retiring to rest. Now they were no longer wanted ; so with one last pang of regret he collected them together, and returned them to the book-shelves. Many of his intimates looked upon Roger's habitual deference to his mother's wishes as a symptom of amiable weakness. Even Mrs. North secretly shared this feeling, and believed that her son inherited the disposition of his father, who had been a singularly weak, though amiable, man. She little dreamed of a day to come, when events would prove the mistake she had made in thus estimating her son's character. The true cause of his yielding to her wishes in everything which did not involve principle was to be found in an intensely grateful and unselfish nature. In his boyhood the family circumstances had been very differ- ent to those which he and his mother now enjoyed. His father. Colonel North, was a younger son, who had joined the army, and, easily led away by the many temptations which it offered, had contrived to squander a great MOTHER AND SON. 35 part of his means, which were none too large even to commence with. At this crisis, Mrs. North had taken all money matters into her own hands, thus saving her husband and family from falling into comparative poverty. From the earliest time that Roger could remember he had seen his mother denying herself for the sake of the education and advancement in life of his brothers and him- self. For there had been two elder brothers, who, thanks to their mother's exertions, had entered the army. Both were called to active service, and both fell amidst bloody and terrible scenes — one before Sebastopol, the other a year later, at the commencement of the Indian Mutiny. Roger was a school-boy at the time, and recollected with awe his mother's wild agony at these succeeding bereavements. He remembered, too, how, when the first terrible shock was over, she had suppressed all out- ward signs of suffering, and had once more attended to the material wants of his father and himself with the same assiduous care and self-denial as before. Until that date his boyish wish had been to follow the career of his father and brothers, but he put it aside 36 ROGER NORTH. with the firm resolve that he would repay his mother by personal love and devotion for all she had done and suffered. He never even expressed a wish to enter the army, and when he found that she was planning for him to go to college and the Bar, he acceded so willingly that she believed it to be his own desire. The mother was preparing to make still further retrenchments, in order to provide for her son's career, when Colonel North's elder brother died, childless ; and from henceforth money cares were at an end. Colonel North only lived one year in the enjoyment of his new prosperity, and then the estates passed to Roger. But his mother continued to manage them until he finally left Oxford and settled at home. From that time he managed the property himself, leaving household and garden entirely under her control. His college career had been respectable, although not brilliant. His love of study had to contend with an equal love for boating and all out-door sports ; nor was he one of those geniuses who could excel in both. Still the years he passed at college proved very bene- ficial, as his character impelled him to make MOTHER AND SON. i^ friends among those to whom he could look up, either on account of their intellectual or moral superiority. He would have preferred a more stirring life than his country home offered, but his duty lay there, and he re- sponded to its call with heart and soul. Fortunately for him, his uncle had spent large sums of money on the house and grounds, but had neglected all other improvements on the property. Hence Roger found congenial work in improving his farms and cottages, though, naturally, this somewhat hampered his means for a few years. He also took an active part in county business, and was often surprised and gratified to find his opinion asked and his advice adopted by men, his equals in station, but of double his years and experience. Among his tenantry and humbler neighbours his genial manner and ready sympathy made him a universal favourite, so that there was no inhabitant of Belton who did not speak of him, with all the pride of possession, as ''our young Squire." CHAPTER III. SUNSHINE AND SHADE. The rain was falling steadily in big, heavy drops ; beautiful summer rain, accompanied by no rough wind to blow and bluster, and over- power the sound of its gentle patter on the grateful leaves. A remarkably fine spell of summer weather had enabled all prompt and active farmers to harvest their hay crop, and laggards alone were grumbling at their ill-luck when they might, with a greater show of reason, have blamed their own dilatoriness. But whatever that proverbial grumbler, the farmer, might do, all nature was rejoicing in the rain which had come with the second week in July. Vegeta- tion seemed, as by a miracle, to regain its earlier summer freshness ; and a grateful earth sent up the sweet aroma, which is her incense of thanksgiving. SUNSHINE AND SHADE. 39 The village street of Belton — so light and dusty only the day before — was now dark and moist, with little streams of water rushing and bubbling along the gutters. The irregular roofs of the houses — some tall, some low, some modern, and some of ancient date — were wet and shining ; and the dripping from their eaves added to the sound of falling water. The downpour had banished all idlers from the street. Early in the morning the rector had driven through Belton on his way to one of the neighbouring railway-stations ; and during the day a few improvident housewives, having suddenly discovered some household want, might have been seen — protected by cloak and umbrella — hurrying to one or other of the village shops ; a loaded cart, with horses and men well drenched, passed from time to time ; and these, with the few whose business obliged them to face the rain, completed the total list of the passers-by. The only hours when there was any noise and clatter were those which marked the opening and dismissal of the village school, and even then they were less than usual, and more quickly over, for the children hurried homewards to escape the wet. 40 ROGER NORTH. Early in the afternoon, Mrs. Vale came briskly out of the rectory gate, a basket on her arm. She had been summoned to the sick- bed of a poor woman, and it would have been wild weather that could have stopped her kind feet from hastening to perform a deed of mercy. Mr. Galbraith had a curate, as the parish was large, and, moreover, two services were held each Sunday in a chapel-of-ease some four miles distant, as well as in the parish church ; but the poor folks were in the habit of saying, '' Ah ! give us Mrs. Vale, she's as good as two curates." And truly she was the rector's right hand. Twenty years before, when Mr. Galbraith had brought his young wife to her new home, Mrs. Vale had accompanied them ; and when her beloved mistress was laid in an early grave, the faithful servant had quietly and alto- gether devoted herself to her master, his children, and the parish. The housekeeping had been entrusted to her from the first, though for a short time Mary Galbraith had undertaken a share of it. When the latter married, the devoted nurse felt it to be one of her greater duties to supply a mother's place to little Kate, and she had a reward in the love and esteem SUNSHINE AND SHADE. 41 all showed towards her. But, perhaps, there was no sweeter sound to the woman who would never have a child of her own than that of Kate's loving voice, calling her " dear Mamsie." On this wet afternoon, at the hour when Mrs. Vale went forth, Kate was standing somewhat disconsolately by the drawing-room window, looking upon the failing rain. She had taken advantage of the wet day to work up arrears in practising, and other tasks for the masters, who came weekly from the neighbouring county towns to give her lessons. That done, she had wished to accompany Mrs. Vale, but for reasons of her own the old nurse had said '' No " ; and though Kate was some- what wilful with most people, she had been accustomed to obey that '' No" from earliest Infancy. When fine weather prevailed, it was hard to keep Kate Indoors. The day she had described to Roger was a fair specimen of her usual life. She was intimately acquainted with every man, woman, and child in her father's parish ; their histories, and most of their joys and sorrows, were known to her. So it was not strange that 42 ROGER NORTH, a day rarely passed without some call for her presence and sympathy. Then came visits to the schools, and rides with her father to the homes of more distant parishioners. This state of things had been going on almost ever since Kate could remember, and had sadly interfered with the regularity of her education. A succession of governesses had thrown up their task in despair. With some she had laughed and played, and then both governess and pupil were idle together. Others who were stricter, and perhaps more conscientious, had brought tears to her eyes, but did not succeed in adding much to her store of knowledge. When Kate was sixteen, school had been tried at the instigation of Mrs. Stephens, who was the rector's prime adviser in all matters referring to his daughter's education. But the scheme turned out a lamentable failure ; the first holidays brought her home for good, as she and her father had been equally miserable during their separation. Kate left the window at last, and looked round in search of some congenial occupation. Her work-basket was open on the table, with a baby's frock half made beside it. She took the SUNSHINE AND SHADE. 43 work up and tried a few stitches ; but few young girls, with a lively temperament like hers, are fond of needlework, especially when alone, and she, certainly, was not one of the exceptions. They may like it passing well with companions, when tongues keep pace with busy fingers; but most women must be older before they can contentedly spend solitary hours at needlework. They must have busy thoughts for their companions — memories of the past ; maybe of sorrows and anxieties in the present, or hopes and fears for the future. Kate might grow to this, but her life was too active and sunny for her to care to occupy her hands alone, and leave her thoughts to ramble. Therefore her work had not progressed far before she threw it down, and exclaimed, '' I must have someone to talk to. I don't care a bit about the rain, and I'll go and see Mrs. Stephens." A quarter of an hour later Kate — dressed to brave the weather — passed through the garden gate, and turned to the left away from, the village. One or two picturesquely-thatched cottages were the only buildings beyond the church and rectory in this direction, and then 44 ROGER NORTH. came a pretty English lane, overhung by branch- ing trees. Ten minutes' walk brought her to a gate, where a short drive through an avenue led to an old-fashioned house, shallow in the centre, but with a projecting wing of greater depth on either side. On coming to the first window, Kate peeped in and tapped. A lady, who was busy writing, looked up, saw her, and came hurrying to the front door. "My dear child!" she exclaimed; "out in all this heavy rain ! Take off your wet things at once. Susan, Susan ! Come and help Miss Galbraith." A neat handmaid quickly answered her call, and Kate, divested of her wet wraps, affec- tionately took the elder lady's arm, and both entered the sitting-room together. " I was just finishing a letter, Kate," said Mrs. Stephens. " Be quiet for a few minutes, if you can, and then I shall be ready to talk to you." The lady, who now resumed her seat at the writing-table, was little, plump, and comfortable- looking. She seemed over fifty, but time had handled her gently, and she remained younger SUNSHINE AND SHADE. 45 and fresher than many who were greatly her juniors. Some eight years previously her husband — Major Stephens — had retired from the service, and, in searching for a quiet and desirable country home, had lighted on the Field House, then to let ; they took a fancy to it, and settled down at Belton. Having no children of their own, Mrs. Stephens soon became greatly attached to the rector's motherless daughter, and had come to regard her almost as her own child. The friendship was of great benefit to Kate, for the elder lady had seen a great deal of the world, was well read, fairly accomplished — especially in music — and withal of a keen, shrewd wit. She had also a somewhat sharp tongue, but those whom she liked had no cause to fear its sting. The little sitting-room was as pleasant and cosy as its mistress. Like most of the rooms in that neighbourhood which boasted the dignity of years, it was oak-panelled ; but some one, with a love of light and gaiety, in the era of darkness which preceded the modern awakening to a more cultivated taste, had barbarously covered the dark oak with a coating of paint. 46 ROGER NORTH. No one having gone to the trouble and expense of repairing such a solecism, painted it remained, in two shades of light green. The drawing- room was upstairs, occupying the entire floor of the central portion of the house, and rejoiced in undesecrated oak-panelling ; but the room below was the special boudoir and snuggery of Mrs. Stephens, and abounded in low easy-chairs, handy little tables, books, pictures, work, and flowers ; while an open piano occupied one corner, and a table covered with tools for wood- carving another. The room was too familiar to Kate for any- thing in it to attract her attention, and she seated herself on a low chair, taking a handsome Persian cat upon her lap, until Mrs. Stephens, having closed and directed her letter, said, '' There ! I have done now." Then Kate sprang up, and playfully pushing her friend into an armchair, seated herself on a footstool beside it ; and leaning her arms on the other's knee, and looking up into her face, began, — '' Now, dear Mrs. Stephens, we will have a really nice chat ; I have been longing for some one to talk to all day." SUNSHINE AND SHADE. 47 ''What !" said Mrs. Stephens, laughing, her hands held prisoners in those of her young favourite. "Are you not going to allow me even to work ?" '' No, certainly not," replied Kate, impe- riously. ''You are to be as idle as I am. Now where shall I begin ? I have so much to tell you ! In the first place, have you heard about the party at the Hall ?" " I have Mrs. North's invitation," answered Mrs. Stephens, resigning herself to the girl's whim, and stroking her bright, fair hair ; "and I see it is for a garden party and a dance in the evening ; but I know no particulars." " Then I can tell you," was the eager re- joinder, " for Roger came yesterday and told us all about it. They are to have a military band, and croquet, and archery, with such charming prizes. The dancing is to be in the music-room, and in the evening the ter- race and some of the garden walks will be lighted with Chinese lanterns. Won't it be delightful?" " Yes," replied the elder lady, thoughtfully. " Certainly when Mrs. North does do these things, and that is seldom enough, she knows 48 ROGER NORTH. how to do them well. This time no doubt she is especially inspired by an object." *'Anobject?" said Kate, inquisitively; "what object ? Do tell me." And then, before the other was able to reply, she added, " Oh ! I suppose you mean to please her niece, Constance Erskine. She has not been here for a long time ; she used to come almost every summer when she was a little girl, and as I am only a year or two younger we often played together ; but I fear we never got on very well, and I doubt if we shall now. The other day Mrs. North showed me one of her photographs, and she looked so grand and distinguished that I am sure she will alarm a poor little country mouse like me." *' I daresay her companionship would do you a great deal of good," said Mrs. Stephens, half in jest and half in earnest ; '' and I shall expect to see a great improvement when you have had the opportunity of studying such a model." " Don't talk like that," said Kate, with a pretended pout, ''or I shall not be able to enjoy myself one bit at the party ; you will make me think all the time of my behaviour. As it is," she added, with a little sigh, '' it won't be SUNSHINE AND SHADE. 49 quite perfect, because father says he shall only go for the afternoon, and Intends to ask you to take care of me In the evening. I shall not enjoy the dancing half so much If he Is not there to look on." With these words some graver thought seemed to come over her. The bright smile died away, and her voice had a tremor when she spoke again. " Dear Mrs. Stephens, do you know I am afraid father has not been feeling very well lately. He looks so weary sometimes, and now when we are riding he never puts Toby out of a walk. Have you noticed It, and do you think there Is anything amiss ?" '' We cannot all be as young as you are, Kate ; and the rector Is growing older," replied Mrs. Stephens, parrying the girl's question. " I wish father could always remain as he Is," said Kate, with a sigh. Then the ready tears came, and she added, ''No, I don't, it would be very selfish. Do you know, Mrs. Stephens" — and she spoke In low and awe-struck tones — "long ago, I used to think that I was all the world to father, just as he is all the VOL. I. 4 50 ROGER NORTH. world to me ; but once, when I had been very naughty with one of my governesses, Mamsie took me to her room, and talked to me a long while. She told me how I ought to be a good girl, and a comfort to him, because he had suffered so much. And she told me how happy he had been when my mother was alive ; and how, when she died, he was so very, very ill, that they thought he would have died too. And Mamsie said it was only the thought of Mary and of me that made him wish to get better. After I knew this I did try, more than I had done before, to do all I could to please him ; but I never quite realized how he still mourned for his dead wife until one day I went to the study window, and was just going to speak to him, when I saw that he was gazing at her portrait, and a look was on his face that told me more than any words could do how he longed to join her. He did not see me, and I stole quiedy away. So you see, dear Mrs. Stephens," she concluded, with childlike sim- plicity, '' it would be very selfish to wish father to stay with me always." A silence followed ; and then Kate brushed away the tears which had gathered in her eyes, SUNSHINE AND SHADE. 51 and, with one of her quick changes from grave to gay, she said, — '' I have not told you all my news yet. Very likely we shall have a visitor for the party at the Hall." '' And who may that be, Kate ? " *' His name is Sydney Ferrars ; but It is rather a long story. Father had a letter from Mary the other day, in which she asked him to invite this Mr. Ferrars to stay with us. He Is a cousin of her husband, and for some time has had an estaiifia near theirs in South America ; and now he is in England on a visit. She wants him to come here that he may tell us all about them and their home ; and then when he returns he can tell her all about us and every one here. You know Mary Is a very bad letter-writer, and never tells us half w^e want to hear about the children and all their surroundings. Father wTOte at once to ask him for the week of the party, and I hope he will come, for there are a hundred questions I want to ask." " No doubt," rejoined Mrs. Stephens, drily, *' and It Is to be hoped his patience is not easily exhausted. But, Kate, will you not have .«o\tV ov \LU»0^^ ROGER NORTH. your school-feast also to think of for that week ? " "" Yes, Indeed, and I want to talk It over with you." Then followed a long and minute discussion between the two concerning the arrangements for a village school-feast which was annually held in the rectory grounds. This occupied their attention until Susan brought the after- noon tea, when Major Stephens joined them, and put an end to their tete-a-tete. The Major was a good-tempered, soldierly-looking man, a few years older than his wife, v/ith nothing remarkable about him beyond a certain military neatness and great precision In his dress, and also a keen appreciation for his quicker-witted wife. Kate was as much a favourite with the Major as with his wife ; and an hour soon passed in pleasant chat until, the rain having ceased, at least for the time, she took leave of her friends and walked homewards. She was thinking, as she walked along, of the garden party, the school-feast, and specu- lating on what kind of man their expected visitor might prove to be. But Vv^hen she SUNSHINE AND SHADE. 53 arrived in sight of the old church her mood changed ; and moved by a sudden impulse, she turned aside into the churchyard. The grass had been lately mown, and, although wet, was quite short. She left the path, and w^alked across the turf to a spot where were two graves, placed side by side, both carefully tended, and planted with the choicest flowers that would thrive out-of-doors in an English summer. Ever since Kate, as a tiny, toddling child, was led about by her sister Mary, she had been accustomed to come to these graves, and give her baby help to the loving task of keeping them bright and neat. And when Mary married and went away, one of her last requests to her little step-sister had been, "When you are taking care of your mother's grave, Katie dear, you won't forget to care for my mother's grave too, will you ? " Kate had promised, and had so faithfully kept her promise that it was hard to say which of the two looked the brighter or the fairer. While she stood before them the sun burst from beneath the clouds, and cast its slanting beams upon the wet plants, turning each drop of water into a shining diamond. She watched 54 ROGER NORTH. until the gleam had died away, and then thought- fully retraced her steps. As she reached the path, she was accosted by the old sexton, who happened to be crossing the churchyard. '' Good evening, Miss Kate," he said, touch- ing his hat respectfully. ''We've had a power- ful lot o' rain to-day." " Yes, indeed, Barnes ; but everything looks the fresher for it." '' Eh, indeed ! " replied the old man, looking towards the graves she had just left. "Your flowers be dashed by it now, miss, but to- morrow they will look a deal better. It's a many years I've seen ye a-coming and a-going, looking arter them graves ; and strange it be to think that me and my old missus should be here still, strong and hearty like ; while she " — pointing towards the nearest grave — " who was a young thing when we was getting old, should ha' lain there many a day. Eh, miss ! the rector wur powerful fond on her ; he's niver been the same man sin' she went ! Me and my old missus, we used to say as he could niver bear her to be out of his sight. I mind once, miss, when you was a baby, an' she had to go to Lunnon — to nuss her brother, I heerd tell — SUNSHINE AND SHADE. 55 the rector he didn't look hisself, he didn't, till she come home agin ; and the furst Sunday she wur in church agin, it did one good to look on his face, he wur that pleased." Kate let the old man ramble on. She never tired of hearing of the young mother she could not remember ; and though she had heard that mother described a hundred times, she asked, *' Was she like me, Barnes ? " " Eh, no, bless you, miss ; you favours the rector. She wur not nigh so tall, but little like ; an' yet I do say to my old missus that when I be a-working here, an' hears you a- laughing and a-talking over in the garden, that it 'minds me of the time when she used to be a- laughingan' a-playing with you and Miss Mary, her as is married an' gone over the seas " — this with an expressive jerk of the thumb backwards, signifying unknown regions. *' Miss Mary, she wur powerful fond on her too. Eh ! it wur a sad day for all on us when she wur took." So saying, and shaking his grey head, Barnes bade Kate good evening, and trudged away to his cottage, while she walked slowly and thoughtfully home. 56 ROGER NORTH. The old man's talk formed a fitting sequel to the words she had addressed to Mrs. Stephens, and brought before her mind one of life's great problems. She had lived side by side with her father all her days, apparently sharing his every thought, yet there was a side of his life to Vv^hich she could but dimly penetrate — the life he had lived before she came into being, and which she knew was as real and near to him as anything in the present. The familiar lines came into her mind with a new meaning — " Not e'en the tenderest heart, and next our own, Knows half the reasons why we smile or sigh ! " When Mr. Galbraith reached home a little later, Kate's loving eyes saw that he looked pale and tired ; and, if that were possible, she was more than usually gentle and tender towards him. CHAPTER IV. THE SHADOW ON THE WALL. One sunny afternoon, at the end of July, Kate's pony carriage came rattling along the village street of Belton. The chestnut pony was tossing its head, somewhat out of temper, and indignant that the reins were not held, as usual, by the gentle hand of its mistress. On the present occasion, the two occupants of the carriage were of the sterner sex. A young groom, in the sober livery befitting the servant of a quiet country rector, had been sent to the nearest station to meet Mr. Sydney Ferrars, and was now driving him to the rectory with all the speed and dash that he thought the honour and dignity of the family required. Had the rector's old coachman seen his satellite thus handling the reins, he would certainly have given him a reprimand ; but a S8 ROGER NORTH. sharp attack of rheumatism kept him in his cottage, safely out of sight and hearing. It was owing to Rufus's increasing age and infirmi- ties that the young groom had been lately taken into the rector's service ; and he would never have been allowed to drive Kate's pony had not aches and pains kept the old coachman a most unwilling prisoner. Sam, the young groom, appeared deter- mined to enjoy to the uttermost the glory of his new position, and drove through the rectory gate and up to the door with a speed which, when he drew rein, brought the pony back on its haunches. Then he jumped out of the carriage, rang the bell loudly, and remarked, judging by signs best known to himself, and offering a blank page to those less initiated, — " Master and miss not come in yet, sir." And so it proved ; for in answer to the loud summons, Mrs. Vale came hurrying after Patty to the door, with many apologies that the master and Miss Galbraith should not have returned from their afternoon ride before their guest's arrival. " I expect them every minute, sir," said Mrs. Vale, as she ushered Mr. Ferrars into the THE SHADOW ON THE WALL, 59 drawing-room; ** they said they would surely be back before you came ; and went out earlier than usual, on purpose. And here they are now, sir," she added, as she drew up the blind of a window which looked out upon the drive. Young Ferrars involuntarily turned his eyes in the same direction, and caught sight of an elderly gentleman, with grey head slightly bent, riding on a short, stout cob ; and then he looked longer, and with evident admiration, on the slender yet rounded figure of the young girl who rode beside him, sitting her horse with grace and ease. Kate Galbraith's form was of that character which never shows to greater advantage than on horseback, and her dark, close-fitting habit served but as a foil to her refined features. She happened to be in high spirits. Any passing anxiety regarding her father's health had been lulled to sleep ; and the excitement caused by the gaieties of the coming week made her face bright with anticipated pleasure. The ride, too, had given to her cheek a soft shade of pink, which heightened the charm of her youthful freshness. 6o ROGER NORTH. Mrs. Vale left the room to announce the visitor's arrival, and Sydney Ferrars watched Kate as she sprang unaided from the saddle, and he caught the sound of her sunny voice as she patted and caressed her horse ; while Rover was jumping round her, barking with vociferous jealousy to attract some share of notice. The rector dismounted more slowly ; and Sam, who had appeared in the meantime, led the horses to the stables, as father and daughter entered the hall door. Kate had been accustomed from childhood to do the honours of her father's house. She entered the room with a dignity of bearing somewhat astonishing to one who had come from London to a country rectory, expecting to find his hostess, certainly a lady, but a mere girl, and with the diffident manner of one brought up in strict seclusion. Kate was equally, if not more, astonished at her visitor's appearance. She had drawn of him a mental picture — a reflection of her brother- in-law, George Ramsay, as she remembered him, — a bluff, honest, kindly sort of man, with clothes more substantial than elegant, and with a general disregard for mere refinement. These, THE SHADOW ON THE WALL. 6i she considered, must be the traits of all young men who had essayed to make their fortunes by sheep-farming or cattle-raising, whether in an English colony or in North or South America. But the man she saw was in every way a contrast to her preconceptions. In the first place, he was well dressed. No one but a London tailor could have made his light morning suit, every detail of which was faultlessly un- obtrusive. Then Sydney Ferrars was undeni- ably handsome. He was tall, and of a graceful figure, with head well set on his shoulders. No one could regard him for a moment without being aware of his wonderfully speaking blue eyes — large, liquid, and prominent, with the Indications of a histrionic and musical talent of no mean order. His eyebrows were dark and delicately pencilled, his nose aquiline, and the lower part of his face was covered by a silky beard and moustache, dark in colour, but a thought lighter than his hair. Whether it were by accident or design that he wore that close-trimmed beard and soft moustache, it was happy that he did so ; or the eyes of an acute physiognomist might have discovered in the lower portion of his face 62 ROGER NORTH. something which would have detracted from the pleasing characteristics suggested by the handsome eyes and brow. On entering the drawing-room, Mr. Galbraith came forward with his pleasant, old-world cour- tesy, and greeted young Ferrars kindly. '' I am sure we are most grateful to you, Mr. Ferrars," he said, " for coming out of your way to visit quiet country folks like ourselves. It will be a true pleasure to hear from you many particulars of my daughter's home and life in the Argentine Republic ; and I hope, in return, that we may be able to offer you some amusements during your visit." '' The country is sufficiently delightful in itself, sir, after a London season," replied Sydney. '' My father's profession, as you know, keeps him in town during term time, and, since I landed, I have passed most of my leisure in London"; so an English landscape has not yet lost for me its charms." Sydney's manner was pleasant and deferential ; his voice rich and sw^eet ; and, mutually pleased with each other, the three soon fell into an easy flow of conversation, all the easier because they had a subject ready to their hand, on which THE SHADOW ON THE WALL. 63 Mr. Galbralth and Kate had much to ask and he as much to tell. The time had passed so quickly that all were surprised when the bell rang, warning them to dress for dinner. Half an hour later, as Sydney Ferrars came leisurely down the slippery old oak staircase and crossed the hall, the sound of several voices from the drawing-room caught his ear, among them a high-pitched feminine voice, which cer- tainly did not belong to Kate. He gave a slight shrug, scarcely indicative of pleasure ; and then, opening the drawing-room door, found that some other guests were assembled, ostensibly in his honour. Two gentlemen were standing by the window, talking with the rector, one a grey-headed, military-looking man, alert and self-possessed ; the other somewhat younger, a clergyman by his dress, with a diffident look and awkward manner, as though his passage through the world had given no cause for self-confidence. Two ladies were sitting by Kate, and both were little women. One was well-dressed, sprightly, and evidently difficult to overawe ; the other wore her old-fashioned garments with 64 ROGER NORTH. an apologetic air, and appeared nervous, and ready to be frightened even by a child. The introductions which followed Sydney's entrance told him that his fellow guests were Major and Mrs. Stephens, and the rector's curate and his wife — Mr. and Mrs. Bland. Dinner was soon announced ; and during its progress Sydney Ferrars gradually lost the consciousness of being a stranger. His indi- viduality began to unveil itself, and conversation had seldom flowed more easily at the rector's table. Sydney soon monopolized the i^ole of talker, and this he did without appearing to put himself too prominently forward ; for afterwards each of the older men remained under the impression that himself had been the inspiring genius. Sydney, in fact, was an agreeable talker. His rich voice and speaking face added an interest to words which would have fallen dully from others. Then he had plenty to talk about ; plenty to say that was both new and amusing to people who were leading a quiet life in a country village. His father was a barrister of some standing, and resided in town, so that the last month or two which Sydney had spent at THE SHADOW ON THE WALL. 65 home supplied a fund of London talk of an entertaining kind. And he had been several times on the Continent, previously to residing in South America ; and art, literature, and politics all seemed subjects with which he was equally conversant. Kate listened with amusement and delight, and now and then joined in the conversation with a lively question or remark. Mrs. Bland was simply rapt in wondering admiration ; but Mrs. Stephens wore an air more critical than approving. At last the ladies retired to the drawing-room. " What a delightful young man ! " exclaimed Mrs. Bland, as they seated themselves by the drawing-room window to enjoy the lovely summer evening. ''Yes, he is very pleasant," said Kate ; ''and oh ! he has been telling us so many interesting things about the dear children and Mary ; " and then she launched into a repetition of the sayings and doings of her youthful and distant relations. It was not long before they were joined by the gentlemen. Sydney sat down by Kate, and carelessly took up a volume of poems which VOL. I. 5 66 ROGER NORTH. lay upon the table. Turning over its leaves, something arrested his attention, and he said to the rector, who was standing by, — "We were talking in the other room, sir, of the power a clever recitation possesses of bring- ing out the value and beauty of written words. Did you ever hear Walter Montgomery's rendering of Edgar Poe's poem of ' The Bells'?" " No," replied Mr. Galbraith, *' I never heard him either recite or act. Was there any pecu- liarity about his recitation ?" " Yes; to each stanza he gave the tone of the different kind of bell described in it ; and the effect w^as most wonderfully realistic." Something impelled Kate to ask, — *' Can you show us how he used to do it, Mr. Ferrars ?" '' I could imitate him after a fashion years ago," replied Sydney. " I used to meet Walter Montgomery sometimes, and he gave me one or two lessons." '' Please try now," said Kate, persuasively ; and the others, who had been listening to the conversation, joined in her request. Sydney, who seemed attracted by the girl's THE SHADOW ON THE WALL. 67 eagerness, addressed himself to her rather than to the others, as he said, — ** If you wish it, I will make the attempt ; but you must excuse me if 1 fail, for it is long ago since first I tried to do it." Then for a moment he paused, apparently concentrating his attention for the purpose of untangling the skein of half-forgotten memories. He began, and after the first line his audience listened as it were spellbound. His delivery was not exactly that of speak- ing, it was not exactly as if he sang ; but his rich voice, rising and falling in harmonious rhythm, came forth, now low, now soft, in varying tones, as bell succeeded bell. His auditors could hear the gaily tinkling sleigh-bells, crisply delicate as they vibrated in the frosty air ; the merry, clanging marriage- bells, glad and joyous, telling of young, ever- springing hope, and of strong faith in a happy future. Then a sudden change, when deep and solemn came the passing bell, tolling for souls who had ended their worldly fight, whether for weal or woe. And as he recited the refrain to each verse of " Bells, bells, bells," his voice first rose, then 68 ROGER NORTH. sank, then died in echoing waves of sound, diverse yet ever pure, until at length the lis- teners had lost all present consciousness, and were enthralled in complete illusion. As Sydney paused, a murmured " Thank you " told better than more open praise how much his beautiful rendering had been appre- ciated. Mrs. Stephens was the first to break the silence. '' You can sing," she said. " I feel sure you can." "Yes," replied Sydney, "at one time I used to sing a great deal ; and since my return to England my sisters have not allowed me to drop it altogether." Of course he was asked if he had brought his music with him, and replying in the affirmative he was sent to bring a large portfolio from his room. He handed it to Kate, saying, — " I am ashamed to confess that I have to depend upon friends for my accompaniments. Will you play them for me this evening. Miss Galbraith?" Kate turned over the pages with a doubtful look THE SHADOW ON THE WALL. 69 " I am afraid," she said, '' your music is too difficult for me ; but Mrs. Stephens can play anything at sight." So Mrs. Stephens, instead of Kate, took her seat on the music-stool, and Sydney opened the book at the song " Figaro qua, Figaro la." '^ You are ambitious, young sir," she thought, as she began to play ; but when the concluding notes of voice and piano had died away, she turned to him in her short, sharp way, and said, — " You never learnt to sing like that on a sheep-farm in South America ! " "No, indeed," he replied, and perhaps a thought bitterly. " In South America I was more likely to forget how to sing at all. Won't you play something, Mrs. Stephens ? " he added. But all joined in an entreaty for another song. Even Mrs. Stephens thawed, for she was too purely a musician not to become enthusiastic in the presence of an amateur of the unusual talent and cultivation which Sydney had displayed. Song followed song, and each was rendered with a life and passion seldom attained by any but a professional vocalist. 70 ROGER NORTH. After the singing was over, Mrs. Stephens played some instrumental music, brilliantly, and with a sympathetic touch. Then Kate somewhat reluctantly gave a simple English ballad. ** There," she said to Sydney, as she con- cluded, '' I am glad it is over ; I cannot sing after you." *' But you can," he replied, laughing at her spoilt-child manner. '' You have a very good quality of voice, and only need a few lessons from a London master to enable you to manage it perfectly. I have some duets here that I sing with my sisters. We must try them over in the morning." The evening sped pleasantly away, and all were sorry when the time arrived to bid good- bye. No carriages were needed to convey the guests away. Worthy Mr. and Mrs. Bland were walking, because they had no carriage, and their terminus was the village, Major and Mrs. Stephens walked, because they liked to walk ; the night was fine, the distance short, and both were cosmopolitans enough to prefer independence to unnecessary state. Mrs. Stephens tucked up her long silk train THE SHADOW ON THE WALL. 71 under an ample cloak and took her husband's arm, while he quietly enjoyed the fragrance of a good cigar. They had almost reached their door when his wife broke a long silence by saying abruptly, — " That's a dangerous man, Robert ! " '* Dangerous ! what man ? " exclaimed the Major, whose thoughts had been wandering to the I St of September, and possible invitations. For the moment his only idea of a dangerous man was connected with some poacher, who might, perchance, destroy his anticipated sport. " What man ? " she retorted, with some asperity. " Do you think I could mean the rector, or harmless Mr. Bland ? Of course I mean Mr. Ferrars." " But, my dear," he meekly remarked, '' I do not see anything dangerous about him. On the contrary, he appears to me to be an exceedingly agreeable young fellow. I never heard anything better than his singing, and his recitation could not be surpassed. I believe he would make a first-rate actor." ''No doubt," said she, drily. ''In fact, I am by no means certain that he is not one already." 72 ROGER NORTH. '' You are rather hard on the poor fellow," said the Major, answering her tone rather than her words. '' But you have not told me what you mean by dangerous. Do you think he will cut the rector's throat or rob the house ? " '' No one but a man could be so dense," she answered, contemptuously. "Dangerous to Kate, I mean, since I must be so very explicit. What if he should engage her affections ? " The Major whistled. " Humph ! " he said. " But he is only here for a few days, my dear, and girls don't fall in love in such a hurry, except on the stage. She will probably never see him again." " I trust she won't," rejoined Mrs. Stephens, emphatically, ''and I wish that she had never seen him. It would not matter so much had she a mother. However, I shall take care to be at the rectory as much as possible. The preparations for the school-feast will furnish a good excuse." They had reached their home. Its friendly door soon closed upon them, and the Major went meditatively to his den to finish his cigar, and to ponder over the prejudice which his wife had conceived against Sydney Ferrars. CHAPTER V. THE SHADOW DEEPENS. Great was the bustle and preparation at the Hall for the coming festivities. The quiet and order which usually reigned were for the moment set aside ; and staid old servants who had been long in the family, and youthful maids serving their first apprenticeship, alike seemed to have abandoned somewhat of their well-trained habits. A hurry and excitement common to all, though expressed in different ways, were to be found, from Mr. Martin, overlooking the family plate, and scolding his footmen, to Sally, who was cleaning pots and pans in the scullery. The master of the house alone seemed to have escaped the general contagion. In any case, he wore a thoughtful and preoccupied air as he entered the small sitting-room, where 74 ROGER NORTH. breakfast had been laid, for the dining-room was already given up to the servants, who were busy making preparations for supper In the evening. The breakfast-room was empty when Roger entered, and he walked to the window and stood looking out. But was he occupied with the fair scene before him ? Did he see the terraced garden, with its gay flower-beds set like jewels on the velvety green turf ? Or did he note the white marquee beyond, bright with flags, which had been erected among the spreading oaks In the park ? Or, further still, the distant landscape, its hills already misty beneath the heat of an August sun .^ Did any of these things occupy him ? It would appear not, and pro- bably, had It been a scene on which he looked for the first time, he could not have recalled or described a single detail, despite the earnest- ness with which his gaze was fixed upon It now. A silvery laugh roused him at length from his reverie, and he turned to find his cousin close beside him. She was a fair reality suffi- cient to recall anyone from the land of dreams, THE SHADOW DEEPENS. 75 and needing no art to enhance her beauty. This she seemed to know, for the dress she wore was simplicity itself. *' I have wished you good morning three times, Roger," she said, extending a little jewelled hand. "What can you be thinking about?'' 'T beg a thousand pardons, Constance," he replied, a slight flush tinging his dark sun- burnt cheek. " I — I did not hear you come into the room." '' Cela va sans dire,'' said she, laughing. Mrs. North entered at the moment, and Roger was glad of the excuse to turn away in order to wish her good morning. Then the servants coming in with hot dishes, they settled themselves at the breakfast-table. '' Who was that young man we met riding with Mr. Galbraith and his daughter yester- day ? " asked Constance. " I forgot to enquire at the moment, auntie, and I am sure that I have seen his face before." Strange ! that Constance's first words should bear upon the very scene that had occupied Roger's brain unceasingly for the last few hours. 76 ROGER NORTH. The most epigrammatic of English poets once wrote — " Great streams From little sources flow." And so it was now with Roger. A trifling incident on the previous day had opened the flood-gates of his nature, and let loose an overwhelming torrent of feeling — the very ex- istence of which he had been unconscious of before. A few words will suffice to explain the cause. He had driven his mother and cousin to a cricket-match held in the grounds of a friend. On the way home, as he was driving his pair of thoroughbreds rapidly round a sharp turn in the road, they had come upon three equestrians, one of whom was a girl, riding between an old man and a young one. The three were walking their horses quietly along, and the young man was bending forward in the saddle. His face was turned towards the girl, to whom he was talking eagerly. She, meanwhile, held her head slightly bent, and half turned towards him ; her hair was a little loosened by the ride, and softly shaded her profile ; but her attitude showed that she was listening with attention THE SHADOW DEEPENS. jj and interest. And that was all ! Still the picture as he had seen it had haunted Roger ever since — just those two faces, — those of the handsome man and of the listening girl. But this, seemingly, had been enough to set his heart beating and his pulses throbbing in a manner strange and uncommon in a man of a strong and temperate nature. '^ He is a Mr. Ferrars, Constance," replied Mrs. North to her niece's question. ''You have certainly never seen him here before ; he is a stranger to these parts, and on a few days' visit at the rectory." " Ferrars ! " said Constance. "Ah ! I remem- ber now ; he is an intimate friend of Lady Sophia Macfarlane's, and I have heard him sing at one of her soirees. He sings beautifully ; and I once heard Lady Sophia tell mamma that he is most fascinating, and that she would on no account have him so much at her house if she had marriageable daughters, as he is not an eligible parti. Rather dangerous for Miss Galbraith, I should fancy ; he seemed to be making himself very agreeable yesterday. What has she grown up to be like ? She used to be a wild little thing, though most devoted ROGER NORTH. to her father, and obeying his Hghtest word In a moment." "Her devotion to her father remains the same," answered Mrs. North, In conformity with her strict sense of justice ; " but," she added, with a furtive glance at her son, " In every other way she Is most unformed, and her spirits run away with her at times. I daresay she win be doing all sorts of wild things while this young man Is there ; unless, indeed, Mrs. Stephens plays the part of a careful chaperone." *' Roger ! " said Constance, '' you have gone into a brown study again, or I was going to tell you that you may Introduce Mr. Ferrars to me this evening. Really, it seems that it is you who are sending me to Coventry, instead of my sending you, as I threatened, and as you richly deserve, for not coming to Good- wood." Thus rallied, Roger was effectually roused. ''What a fool I must be making of myself !" he thought, and he shook himself together ; and for the rest of the meal took his fair share in the conversation. By three o'clock most of the expected guests had assembled. Those who were to take part THE SHADOW DEEPENS. 79 in shooting for the prizes had been especially asked to come early. Already the gardens and that part of the park where the targets stood afforded a gay and pretty sight. The day was lovely. No lady had any cause to fear for her delicate toilette, and smiles and laughter reigned. Mr. Galbraith, with Kate and Sydney Ferrars, had been amongst the earliest arrivals. Kate was too eager about the archery to per- mit the gentlemen to be late in starting ; and Sydney Ferrars had laughed at her excitement, and contrasted it with the manner of those girls who had gone through a London season. " I am sure I don't wish to be like them," replied Kate. '' It is much nicer to enjoy one- self whenever one goes out, and I always do." " In any case," thought Sydney, ''it is very pleasant and pretty to see, and infectious into the bargain. I believe I am actually about to enjoy a stupid garden-party myself." Nor was he the only one who thought Kate's bright face a pleasant face to watch. Had Roger followed his own inclination he would not have stirred from her side ; but conscien- tiousness was his ruling guide even in little things, and the habit of giving up his own So ROGER NORTH. wishes to the pleasures and needs of others had become such a second nature that not one of his duties as host was omitted. He was amongst the competing archers, and had in- tended that Kate should shoot at the same target with himself. But he was called away just at the critical moment, and was obliged to depute Major Stephens — also an enthusiastic archer — to divide the competitors between the three sets of targets. Major Stephens, mindful of his wife, at first arranged that Kate and Sydney should be divided. But Sydney begged to have this altered, and as the Major could invent no very good excuse for refusing, he did what he thought the next best thing, and placed them both at his own target — " Under my own eye, you know, my dear," as he explained afterwards to his wife. Roger returned, to find that Kate and he were at different targets, while a third set intervening proved a still further barrier to any intercourse. And yet worse, the Major, thinking to please Roger, had paired him with Constance Erskine. Constance would have repudiated the idea THE SHADOW DEEPENS. 8i even to herself of being in love with her cousin, though from childhood she had always liked his gentle, chivalrous nature, which had shielded her from the teasing of her rougher brothers; and now she was piqued by his manifest indifference, and was determined to make him her slave \i she possibly could. In any case, she was sufficiently clever to render it almost impossible for him to leave her side without absolute rudeness. . So the afternoon wore away, and the shadows grew long ; and Roger had been unable to be with Kate for more than two or three minutes at a time. And still, whenever his eyes sought hers, there was that haunting, handsome face close by. One happy opportunity did at last occur. Kate shot an arrow almost into the very eye of the gold, and Major Stephens summoned Roger to give his opinion if it were nearer the centre than one in his own target. There was no doubt about it ; none but bold Robin Hood or William Tell could be certain of supplanting such an arrow, and all were busy discussing the merit of the shot. Then Roger found a chance of speaking to Kate without danger of being overheard, and his VOL. I. 6 82 ROGER NORTH. voice betrayed a depth and earnestness un- necessary about so trivial a matter. *' I am so glad you have won the locket, Kate. I thought you might when I was choosing it. I hope so much that you will like it." '* How kind of you, Roger, to think of me ! " she replied. "It is delightful to have won it ; I never dreamed of such good fortune." There was no time for more ; but Kate's grateful smile gave to Roger the happiest moment of the day. His preoccupation during the afternoon had not passed entirely unnoticed by kindly gossips. Many remarked that something was wanting of his usual frank and cheery manner ; but the deficiency was unanimously attributed to a wrong cause. '' Ah ! it is easy to see who will be lady paramount here some day," said one lady to Mrs. Stephens. "What a lovely girl she is! No wonder Mr. North looks a little distrait and anxious, if it is not all settled yet." "Settled!" exclaimed Mrs. Stephens, snap- pishly. " Nothing of the sort. I don't believe Roger North is in love with her at all. His THE SHADOW DEEPENS. %2> mother may be ; and the girl herself has perhaps the sense to prefer him to the vapid, brainless young fops who run after her by the score:" To tell the truth, Mrs. Stephens was a little out of temper. She had come to the party firmly resolved to keep Kate and Sydney Ferrars apart, an intention which she would have found difficult to compass under any circumstances ; and now she was reproaching herself because, immediately on her arrival, she had met an old friend from a different part of the county, and the two became deeply immersed in a long conversation of a kind that Mrs. Stephens loved— one bearing upon the domestic histories of a circle of mutual ac- quaintances. Hence it was late in the after- noon when she awoke to the fact that Sydney Ferrars had all the time been Kate's constant companion. So when the ladies went into the house, and Mrs. Stephens and Kate were together upstairs, Kate found her old friend exceedingly cross. ''Now mind, Kate," said Mrs. Stephens, ''you are under my care this evening, and I won't have you dance more than three times with anybody." 84 ROGER NORTH. ** What nonsense!" replied Kate. ''You know I have often danced four, and I think even five times with Roger, and you never said a word." " That's quite different," said the elder lady, somewhat inconsequentially. "He is a very old friend ; but this evening of course he will be too busy to ask you so often, and, mind, I will not allow it with any one else." Kate followed her chaperone downstairs, by no means disposed to implicit obedience. Had not Sydney Ferrars already asked her to keep at least four waltzes for him ? And what could it matter when he was staying in their house ? Before the dance commenced there was an early supper ; and once more Roger had to devote both time and attention to his older and more important guests. He was sadly impatient ere the last dowager had satisfied her appetite, and had been obliged to depute a friend to tell the musicians that it was time to commence their duties. Then, when he was at liberty, and had reached the dancing-room, the opening bars of the second waltz fell upon his ears. In another moment his eyes rested on the object of his thoughts. He saw Kate standing in a THE SHADOW DEEPENS. 85 deep bay window, and by her side still that handsome man. Some one spoke to Roger, and he was obliged to stop and answer ; and when he turned again Kate and Sydney Ferrars were among the maze of dancers. It was easy to see that the latter waltzed superbly, and the two moved together with that easy, grace- ful motion which is necessary for perfect pleasure. Roger crossed the room and stood in the bay window, thinking that Kate would be sure to stop there again. And he was right. In a few minutes she and her partner drew back from the crowd into its recess. '' What lovely music — how delightful ! " Kate was saying, and then she was startled by Roger's voice at her elbow — " You have kept a dance for me, Kate, I hope ? " Kate glanced at her card in dismay, and then, in a tone of genuine regret, she said, — " I am afraid every dance is gone — I am so sorry ; why did you not ask me before ? I thought you would very likely be too busy to dance with me at all." " Are you sure you have not one left, Kate '^ " 86 ROGER NORTH. " Not one ! I had been keeping some ; and then Major Stephens brought up some officers from Hammerton, and they took them all." " If there is an extra you must remember an old friend," said Roger, with a gnawing pain at his heart, and a thousand reflections on his own folly, that had prevented him from securing one or two dances beforehand. He had meant to do so ; but during the afternoon, although the desire was ever in his thoughts, he allowed each opportunity to slip away without speaking the words which trembled on his lips. However, in this respect at least his position as host befriended him ; and in due course an extra was announced. He had told Kate beforehand when it was to be, and found her seated by Mrs. Stephens and waiting for him. She took his arm, and he led her to the ball-room silently, — silently, because her light touch so thrilled him that for the first time in his life, and in all their long intercourse, he could not speak in the old easy way. Roger danced well, not so well as Sydney Ferrars ; but he held his partner firmly, and guided her so carefully from any chance collision, that Kate always liked to dance with him ; and, as he did THE SHADOW DEEPENS. 87 not seem disposed to talk, she yielded herself to the enjoyment of the rhythmic motion. ** What a success the day has been, Roger," said she, when they paused at length ; '' and how nice everyone looks." Then, thinking to please him — for some of the gossip of the after- noon had reached her ears — she added, "■ How lovely Miss Erskine is ! and her dress is in such exquisite taste, everybody has been admiring it." Roger mechanically turned his eyes to where his cousin stood, leaning on Sydney Ferrars' arm ; nor did it discompose him to see her there. She certainly did look lovely, and her dress was a marvel of soft cream muslin and lace, one of that kind which men admire because they think it simple ; and which ladies envy because they know it to be so costly. " Yes, I suppose she is very pretty," he answered ; '' but one does not notice that sort of thing so much in relations." Kate rather marvelled at the indifference of his reply, and presently they joined the dance again. All things come to an end, and this day of mental tension for Roger North was no excep- tion. When the last carriage had rolled away, there still remained many guests from more ROGER NORTH. distant parts of the county who were to sleep at the Hall ; among them a good many young men, and the officers from Hammerton. Thus the solitude for which Roger longed was yet postponed until after a talk and smoke In the study ; and it was half-past three when he shut himself in his own room, with a deep-drawn sigh of pure relief. He was alone at last ! at liberty to look In the face these new sensations which had sw^ept through his being as a whirlwind, obtaining the mastery over his senses. Now he must grapple with them, and place them at least under due control. To sleep was Impossible ; he walked to the window and looked out. The grey dawn was already nigh, and but one or two of the largest stars remained visible. Roger felt he could not compose his excited nerves within the narrow boundaries of his room ; he must have air, and space, and motion. In obedience to this Impulse, he changed his evening dress for a shooting suit ; and, stealing quietly down the stairs, passed out through the study window. He crossed the garden, avoiding the direction of the stables lest the dogs should hear his step, and strode rapidly through the park. The hour THE SHADOW DEEPENS. 89 of four sounded from the turret clock of the Hall, and was answered a minute later by the deeper tones issuing from the old church-tower away in Belton village. Then a cock crowed, loudly, for it had caught sight of the rosy hue springing in the eastern sky, harbinger of the coming day. The rapid pace and balmy morning air seemed to do Roger good ; he could think now, and for the first time he said to himself, '' I love her, I love her." And then the question arose, ''Why did I not know it before?" This seemed the strangest thing of all, since now he felt, nay, he knew right well, that the love had always been for long years past, and that what had now come was but an awakening. And the thought filled him with the glad joy of possessing a new and precious treasure. But then there was that other feeling which had sprung into existence at the same moment, and what was that ? Ever honest, even to himself, he would call it by its true name, and that name was — jealousy. He had that day been more inclined to break the sixth com- mandment than ever in his life before. It was almost deadly hatred that he had felt towards 90 ROGER NORTH. the man who had suddenly come among them and usurped the place which he had looked upon as his own by right. Still, if Ferrars went away and left things as they were, would not Roger owe him almost a debt of gratitude for opening his dull eyes before it was too late, and ere another could have time to step forward and pluck his fair flower ? Such thoughts as these surged through Roger's brain, and made him heedless of what path he took, so long as it was an unfrequented one. The sun came bright and red, flooding the landscape with its rosy light, then hid itself behind some dark low clouds, and all was grey and misty, though lighter than before. Still Roger walked on for several miles, until he came to a little coppice, and paused at a rough gate. At the same moment he caught sight of a figure crouching, and evidently hiding in the underwood. All his sportsmanlike instinct was awakened in an instant. He sprang forward, but the figure was up and away before he could reach it, and had doubled round some trees. Then, with great want of presence of mind, it made for the gate, and scrambling over com- THE SUA DO TV DEEPENS. g i menced to run across the open field. Roger was fleet of foot, and did not require many minutes to come up with the intruder, whom he rather roughly grasped by the shoulder. '' Here, stop, you fellow ! " he cried ; '* it is no use your trying to get away." The boy, for he was little more, came to a standstill. His eyes opened wide on seeing who it was that held him ; then he hung down his head with a shame-faced, sulky look. " Let me go, maister," he said. '' I beant doing no harm." '' Why were you hiding then ? " said Roger, sternly. Then looking at the boy more narrowly, his voice softened. " Why, Jem Warner, is it you ? I should never have thought to find you skulking in one of my woods like that. You're in luck that it was I, and not Robinson, who caught you." The boy turned very red, and looked more stolidly sulky than before. ** Let me go, maister," he said again. '' No, Jem," replied Roger, ''you must make a clean breast of it first, and tell me all about it. Why do I find you here when you ought to be going to your work ? " 92 ROGER NORTH. ** I hain't got no work." '' No work ! why I thought that Farmer Styles had taken you on ? " '' He turned me off cos' he said I stole summat ; but he's a liar — I didn't ! " added the lad, fiercely. Bit by bit Roger extracted a long story from the boy. Farmer Styles had been spiteful, and warned others against him, and no one would employ him. His father had been angry, and would have turned him out of doors but for his mother's tears, and then his father could not afford to keep him at home idle. His old companions had first avoided and then jeered at him, calling him '' thief." He had taken to worse company, and a travelling tinker, of bad repute, had promised to pay him well for any hares or rabbits he could bring ; and so last night he had set some snares for the first time, and was making off with his ill-gotten plunder when Roger caught him. Roger listened kindly and patiently to the lad's long story, often rendered Incoherent by his tears. ''Well, Jem," he said, at length, " don't you think you could have found some better way THE SHADOW DEEPENS. 93 to convince the world of your honesty than by turning poacher ? " '' They said I wur a thief, so I thought it would na be worse if I wur one," he replied doggedly. ''Jem, Jem! you will break your mother's heart if you go to the bad. Go home now and come to me at the Hall at two o'clock — punctual, mind — and I will find you work to do." The lad's face brightened ; then he said anxiously, — " But you will na tell any one where you found me, maister ? " '' Not if you v/ill hold your tongue," replied Roger, rather relieved that his strange rencontre should be kept secret. Thus they parted ; Jem Warner with a lighter heart than he had known for many a day, and somehow to Roger this litde incident seemed to have brought more hope. The sun had dispersed the mists and was shining brightly, and Roger's mood had be- come more in harmony with the gaiety and gladness of the summer's morning. He knew Kate to possess deep and strong feeling beneath her girlish light-heartedness. It was not likely 94 ROGER NORTH. that she would be so quickly wooed and won. To-morrow Sydney Ferrars was to leave, and then he would at least try to win her love. And if he failed ? Well ! he was a man ; and other men had borne like things before. The walk had certainly done him good. If he had ever read the words, " Blessed is the mail who invented walking," he would most cordially have endorsed them. It was past seven when he was once more in sight of home. His way led by a pool, where was a little house for bathing purposes, and often used by him. This decided him to stop and bathe, and by so doing his return to the house at a later hour would excite no remark from any one. A plunge in the cool, clear water was refreshing after his sleepless night and long walk ; and when he appeared at the breakfast table none could have guessed how he had spent the last few hours. CHAPTER VI. ON THE BRINK. On the morning after the party at the Hall, Kate had made her old nurse promise to awake her at the usual hour, for It was the day of the school-feast, and, as always happens, there was much to be done, even to the very last moment. '' If I am tired," she had said to Mamsle, '' I must wait to have a good sleep until the next morning, when there will be nothing much to do." Certainly the little ones expected in the rectory grounds that day had no idea of the late hours In vogue among a more fashionable society. Most of them were up with the lark — incited thereto by pure excitement — and great were the rejoicings at the undoubted fineness of the morning. Those of the children who lived in the village were to be seen hanging about the rectory 96 ROGER NORTH. gates as early as nine o'clock, and staring through the open bars as though they expected the very garden to wear a different aspect to that which it did on other days. To the grown-up people, especially to those who had the management of the school-feast, it seemed soon enough that the proceedings were to commence at half-past eleven with a short service in the church. But long before that time the children thought that days must have elapsed since they had left their beds, so tedious did the hours of expectation seem to the impatient little ones. In spite of all before them, Mr. Galbraith and his two companions lingered at the break- fast-table to talk over the dance of the preceding night ; and, ere they left the dining-room, Mrs. Stephens appeared, ostensibly to help Kate ; in reality, to atone for the negligence of yester- day by an extra vigilance to-day. Sydney Ferrars had proved himself to be most able in devising schemes for the amuse- ment of the children ; and now that the day had come he threw himself into the spirit of the occasion with a zeal that softened even Mrs. Stephens. All were hurrying backwards ON THE BRINK. 97 and forwards until the last moment, and had barely completed the requisite preparations when it was time to repair to the schoolroom, where the children were to assemble in the first instance. What a hubbub it was of glad young voices that rang in the open space between the church- yard and the school ! What neat Sunday clothes and clean faces were to be seen among the happy crowd, giving evidence of motherly care and fond pride ! 'Presently, as if by magic, confusion ceased and discipline resumed Its sway. At a w^ord from the master all came inside the school ; and when they re-issued it was in orderly procession, headed by the clergy, and singing in measured time as they wended towards the church. At the head of his little ones walked the venerable grey-headed rector. He wore a sweet and happy look, as he always did when directly engaged In ministering to their needs. Kate, already in her seat, watched him with proud, loving eyes as he slowly traversed the nave and took his accustomed place in the chancel. And when he lifted his voice in the more beautiful parts of the liturgy, she thought VOL. I. 7 ROGER NORTH. that she had never heard its tones more thrilling or more solemn. After a short service the rector addressed his youthful congregation. He spoke of their special duties with great earnestness, but in simple, loving words which' the youngest could not fail to understand. He spoke of the Great Example, who had been Himself a child on earth. He showed how, if they would follow Him, they must be kind and unselfish in their intercourse with one another ; and how, above all, they must be good and obedient to their parents. " My dear children," he said, in con- clusion, '' you are the little lambs of the flock, for which I must one day render an account ; and I am very anxious that you should remember the words which I have just now spoken, and that they may bear fruit in your future lives. That they may do this the more readily, I will tell you about something which happened to me when I was a child, like one of yourselves. You see me to-day an old man, and before long I may be taken from among you ; but through the many years of my life few memories have been sweeter than the one which I am about to mention. One day, years ago, when I was ON THE BRINK. 99 quite a little child, younger than most of you, my mother called me, and told me to take care of my little brother in the garden. ' But promise me,' she said, ' that on no account you v/ill go beyond.' I promised, and soon he and I were playing out-of-doors, happy and con- tented. Presently some gay butterflies attracted us, and we chased them hither and thither; until they led us down the drive, and the largest and gayest of them all flew above the gate. I threw my cap after it, and butterfly and cap fell to the ground together. In another second I had my foot on the gate, and was about to climb over. But suddenly my mother's words and my promise to her flashed across my mind, and I paused in time. It was a struggle to me to give up the gay butterfly ; but obedience triumphed, and I led my brother back to the other part of the garden. After a while my mother came from the house and inquired what had become of my cap. I told her. As I finished my tale I saw the tears standing in her eyes, and I said, ' Mother, are you vexed with me?' * No,' she replied, 'these are not tears of sorrow, but tears of joy, of thankfulness, that my little son has obeyed my word, and 100 ROGER NORTH. resisted a temptation so that he might keep his promise.' That, my dear children, was the first and last time my mother entrusted me with a duty to perform, for shortly afterwards she fell ill and died. You can imagine how thank- fully I ever afterwards recalled the memory of my obedience, and what my remorse must have been had I disobeyed her on that occasion. I trust that your parents may long be spared to you ; but in the course of nature you will outlive them ; and when the day comes that you have heard their last words, and that their eyes are closed in death, may you, one and all, be able to say, ' The tears which my parents have shed for me have been tears of joy rather than of sorrow.'" Mr. Galbraith's voice trembled, and he paused before he spoke the concluding words of bene- diction. '' How strange," thought Kate, during the few minutes she remained in church, *' that I never heard father speak of this incident before." So it seemed to her youth and inexperience. But it was not strange. The deepest and tenderest memories of the soul are often those most jealously guarded, which seldom pass the ON THE BRINK, loi portals of the lips even to be poured into the most sympathetic ear. At the close of the rector's sermon an un- usual awe and stillness seemed to rest upon the children, which was only dispelled when they reached the rectory grounds. Then the sight of the various preparations for their amusement caused them to break their ranks with loud huzzas and shouts of pleasure. The next event in the day's programme was dinner. Kate had insisted that the children should be fed as soon as possible. " I know," she argued, " that many of the mothers never give them a scrap of breakfast on the morning of a school-feast that they may be able to eat as much as possible during the day, and how can they enjoy themselves, poor things, when they are hungry ? " After dinner the spirits of all seemed to attain a higher pitch. Cricket, races, and other games were set on foot by Sydney Ferrars, Mr. Bland, and many more, and were carried on with the greatest energy, whilst shouts and screams of laughter rang through the air, and came echoing back from the walls of the old rectory. 102 ROGER NORTH. This was the first time for several years that Mrs. North and her son had not been present from the commencement to the very end of this village festival. The guests assembled at the Hall had kept them fully occupied during the morning ; but neither Roger nor his mother intended to neglect the school-feast altogether, and about the middle of the afternoon the former drove a carriage full of ladies into the rectory yard. He knew that the house would be deserted, and that through the yard lay the nearest way to the field where the games were going on. The ladies went at once towards the spot whither they were most un- mistakably guided by loud shouts and the sounds of mirth, but Roger lingered for a moment to attend to some trifling fault about his harness. As he was so employed, Sam came up and touched his cap. " Please, sir, master said that if I saw you I was to ask — would you step inside to him in the study ? " '* All right," replied Roger, and he went to- wards the house. Its doors and windows stood wide open, but there seemed not a soul within. ON THE BRINK. 103 He entered the hall, and passing through it, knocked at the study door. ** Come in," answered the rector ; and as Roger entered he looked up. *' Ah, Roger ! is it yc/U ? I thought you would not mind coming to me for a little while. The heat outside is very fatiguing, so I came in to rest, and besides, the opportunity seemed too good to lose. With so many visitors at the Hall, it is harder than usual to find you at liberty, and I want to say a few words to you — alone." '' Yes, indeed," said Roger, as he sat down ; " what with the calls of duty and pleasure, I was thinking only this morning that I shall have but little spare time before we go to Scotland." '' Then I am still better pleased to have secured you now," replied the rector. "Some- how to-day, Roger, I felt impelled to disclose my thoughts, far more than usual, and I can- not rest without speaking to you about them." Roger waited in silence for what was to come, whilst Mr. Galbraith, pausing for a short moment to collect himself, at length began, — " I think you know that I went to Ham- merton a few weeks ago to consult my old 104 ROGER NORTH. friend Dr. Fleming ; but you do not know, for I have told no one, the opinion which he gave. "No," said Roger. "Not an alarming one, I hope T' '* Not an alarming one to me," said the rector, calmly ; '' it was nothing more than I had expected. He said that with caution and freedom from anxiety I might live for months ; but that I may be taken suddenly, and at any time. '* Is it Indeed so?" said Roger, deeply moved ; ** that Is sad news for all of us, but what will it be to Kate ! " " Ah ! " replied Mr. Galbraith, a yearning look suffusing his face, ''if it were not for her I could rejoice that the summons may be so near. To leave her is the one trial of my faith ; but I humbly trust and pray that when the "time comes I may be both ready and willing to obey the call. But to pass from myself to what I desired to see you about. Dr. Fleming's warning made me go immedi- ately to my lawyer for the purpose of making some slight changes in my will. Among other things, I have named you a joint executor and ON THE BRINK. 105 trustee with my brother-in-law, Mr. Beaumont, and it will set my mind at rest to know that you will not refuse to act." Roger replied in a tone of deep feeling, — "It \/Ill be a labour of love to do anything I can for you." He was about to add, *'and for Kate," but he checked himself, from a new-born consciousness of his feelings towards he r. ''Thank you, Roger," said Mr. Galbraith, holding out a hand, which the other grasped affectionately ; ''I knew that you would do what I wanted, but it is pleasant to hear it from your own lips. I have named you instead of a friend nearly as old as myself. It was useless to think of George Ramsay, although he is my son-in-law, and an excellent fellow, in whom I have the greatest confidence. But he lives so far away. I wish," he added, musingly, ''that he and Mary had a home to which, in the event of my death, Kate could go. As it is, Mr. Beaumont, being her maternal uncle, is her natural guardian, and he will be kind to her, I know. But I should have had nothing left to wish for could I but have lived to see my Kate a happy wife — the wife of such io6 ROGER NORTH. a man as you, Roger," he concluded, after a slight pause. Roger's face quivered, and he tried to sup- press words which were rising to his lips ; but in vain. They w^ould not be suppressed. '' Do you really mean what you say ?" he said, in low, deep tones. *' If you do, it would give me fresh cause for hope. I love Kate. I love her in a way that if she does not return my love, at least no other shall ever be my wife." The words were simple enough ; but the voice and look of the man who spoke bore stronger witness to the depth and earnestness of his love than the most passionate expressions, coming from a shallower nature, could have done. At least they carried conviction to the heart of the rector ; and a look of great gladness shone upon his face. His emotion seemed almost greater than he could bear ; and he leant back in his chair murmuring, — '' Thank Heaven for this last blessing ! " A silence followed, first broken by Mr. Galbraith. " Does Kate know anything of your feelings towards her ? " ON THE BRINK. 107 *' No," replied Roger, rather sadly. '' She has yet to be wooed and won." "Ah, well!" said the rector, *' I may not live to see this crowning happiness, but it imtst be. No woman," and he looked at Roger with an almost father's pride, '* could reject the love of a man like you — my Kate least of all. If I am not here to give her a father's blessing when the time comes, tell her from me that she has my double blessing, and that the knowledge of your love before my death has been my greatest happiness. But now," he continued, " leave me ; you must not remain here longer ; there have been plenty of inquiries already for * the Squire.' We will talk again about this, but at present I need to rest before rejoining our friends outside." The men gave to each other a silent pressure of the hand, speaking of the confidence and love each bore to each. Then Roger stepped from the study into the gay garden, and paced along its walks ; for he, too, had need to still his throbbing pulse. A busy scene met his eye when coming at length into the field. Tea was just over, and the children had returned with renewed vigour io8 ROGER NORTH. to their several amusements. He soon saw Kate, as she stood watching a group of merry- girls. She wore a pale-blue print dress, which harmonized, and wondrously well, with her hair and fair complexion. Her hat had fallen off, and was carried in her hand, and the sun's rays shone on her bright and golden tresses. Two tiny children, a boy and girl, clung to her skirts. They had been shy and unhappy at the beginning of the day, and Kate was rewarded for her success in consoling them by their unalterable fidelity ever since. What a sweet vision of all that is best and tenderest in woman she appeared to Roger as he approached ! A girl who had a gentle sympathizing heart for grief in young or old, what a wife, what a mother, she would some day make ! Kate saw him as he entered the field, and came to meet him, the children still clinging to her dress, and trying, with their little toddling feet, to keep pace with her longer step. " Oh, Roger ! I am so glad that you have come at last. We have missed you dreadfully. As for the boys, I heard Joe Deans say just now, * Cricket's no good at all without the ON THE BRINK. 109 Squire to play with us.' Mr. Ferrars has been most kind ; but he is a stranger, and cannot make the boys forget their allegiance to you." Here Kate was interrupted by one of her little followers, who set up a piteous howl. *' Why, Polly ! what is it ? " she said, as she stooped to comfort her. " You are never crying at Mr. North, surely ! Look, Johnny does not cry ; and the gentleman is very fond of good little girls who don't cry. He would not frighten or hurt you for the world." Then Kate looked at Roger with one of her winning smiles, and added, '* I think I may safely say that much for you." ** I hope so," he said, smiling in return ; and then they walked towards some ladies who were sitting under the trees. *' Have you been with father?" asked Kate. ** Yes ; he is coming out presently." ** He was tired," she said, with a little sigh ; *' I hope the day has not been too much for him." They had reached the group of ladies, and Kate sat down by Mrs. North; while Roger went among the boys, who hailed his advent with evident delight. JiOGER NORTH. As the afternoon wore on, the air became sultry, and though the children still played, even they began to find it oppressive. At last, when Mr. Galbraith once more appeared, it was decided that as there were signs of an impending thunderstorm, the children should be dismissed, in order that they might reach their homes in time to avoid a drenching. This broke up the festival at an earlier hour than usual. The children were assembled, and a hymn having been sung, the usual cheers for those who had promoted their amusements were shouted with right good will. Mrs. North declined Kate's invitation to remain, and hurried away with her party, for some of the ladies were nervous as to how Roger's spirited horses would behave if the storm overtook them. The other visitors left quickly, for somewhat similar reasons, and none remained to finish the evening at the rectory save Major and Mrs. Stephens. / CHAPTER VII. ACROSS THE DARK RIVER. The storm lingered yet awhile before it burst. The sun went down 'midst a sullen, angry, reddish glow; and the deepening twilight added to the gloom cast by the heavy clouds. After dinner, Mrs. Stephens and Kate seated themselves by the drawing-room window, watching for the storm to break. As yet only distant sounds of thunder had been heard, and all nature seemed waiting in suspense for its nearer approach. There was an ominous ab- sence of life and movement in all but the rushing, angry clouds, which were blown into fantastic shapes by winds which left the lower atmosphere undisturbed. Kate sat on a low stool with her hand in that of Mrs. Stephens. She was somewhat timid during a storm ; not that she feared for her 112 ROGER NORTH. personal safety, but the thunder seemed to her like the voice of an awful and invisible presence ; and she could no more have laughed or lightly jested while it lasted than she could have done in church. When a child, had she happened to be naughty before it came, a storm always softened her, and led her to a repentance, which some- times would endure for many days. Both Mrs. Stephens and Kate were tired. The latter part of the day had been oppressively warm, and there had been an unusual stir and excitement during the past week. Thus they were glad to sit, silent, exchanging but a few words now and then. Presently they were joined by the Major and Sydney Ferrars, and almost immediately a vivid flash of lightning came, half blinding them, followed by a rattling, crashing peal of thunder, sounding like a volley of artillery discharged close overhead. A minute more, and the rain, which had kept back so long, descended in mighty torrents from the surcharged and thick black clouds. '* Where is father ? " at length asked the girl, in the interval which followed a second crash ACROSS THE DARK RIVER. 113 of thunder, though one not quite so loud as the first. '' He left us when you did," replied the Major, ''and went to the study," " I will go and see if he wants anything," said Kate, rising and leaving the room. She soon returned. '' Father has fallen asleep in his chair," she said. ** I am afraid he must be very tired to sleep during this loud thunder. I drew the curtains and lighted the candles so that the lightning may not wake him ; besides, it will be quite dark when he does wake." It was already becoming very dark, and the lightning looked grand and terrible in the deepening gloom. For half-an-hour the storm raged with unabated fury, and the four sat watching the frequent flashes without speaking. By degrees the lightning became less vivid, and the thunder more distant. The rain then ceased, and the heavy clouds soon began to break, leaving a clear sky above. Once more the air felt fresh and cool, and the friends began to talk in undertones. At ten o'clock a servant entered, as was the custom, to make preparation for evening prayers. VOL. I. 8 114 ROGER NORTH, Major and Mrs. Stephens were such frequent and intimate visitors that no change was made in this respect on their account. Kate rose and left the room, saying that she must wake her father if he were still asleep. The others waited in silence for her return, and Mrs. Stephens was beginning to wonder what could be keeping her so long when a cry of anguish rang through the old house. They involuntarily sprang to their feet, and Mrs. Stephens turned very white. *' I fear that the rector may be taken ill," she exclaimed ; '' I must go and see." As she hurried through the hall, the fright- ened servants, who were assembling there, drew back to let her pass. The study door stood open, and she entered. A first glance revealed Kate's prostrate form, lying in the arms of Mrs. Vale. The girl's face was white and unconscious as the dead ; and tears were streaming from old Mamsie's eyes as she bent lovingly over her darling. Her second glance sought for Mr. Galbraith. He sat in his arm-chair beside the writing-table — his head leant back in an attitude of profound repose, and he appeared to be sleeping peace- ACROSS THE DARK RIVER. 115 fully. But it was a sleep from which even the voice of his {^eloved child had failed to wake him. His face wore an expression of great calm, and a smile of tender joy and sweetness rested upon his lips. It was as if, at the moment when his feet touched the brink of the dark river, he had caught sight of the glories which lay beyond — as if his soul, when released from its earthly tabernacle, had left a reflection of the bliss it entered on the frail clay. CHAPTER VIII. A LONG FAREWELL. Early next morning, tolling slowly and solemnly, the passing bell assisted to spread the news both far and wide, over hill and dale, to rich and poor, that the good old rector had been called away. Men going to their work and meeting others asked, — '' Who is the bell tolling for ? " And the reply came always with more or less of affectionate regret, — " Don't you know? 'tis for the rector — he was taken quite sudden last night." Women looked from their cottage doors, and, calling to the passers-by, asked the same question ; and their more easily moved emotions would often bring a burst of tears when they heard that their faithful pastor. A LONG FAREWELL. 117 and friend of years, had been gathered to his rest. ^ To many it seemed, indeed, as if they had lost a second father, so bound up was the rector with every event of importance in their Hves. He it was who had baptized them at the font, taught them in the schools, and prepared their minds for confirmation ; in later years had pronounced their marriage blessing at the altar, then afterwards had received the babes from their proud young arms, when in their turn they brought their little ones to be baptized. Nor was their grief a selfish one; for all remembered the bright young girl who had grown up among them, the first to sympathize in their every sorrow. Honest, kindly prayers were offered up on her behalf in this hour of her bereavement ; and the eyes of many a hard-working man and woman grew dim, until they were obliged to pause from labour and brush away the tears. '' Poor, dear young thing ! " they said. ''When death comes 'tis all the same ; be you poor or be you rich, it leaves a sore heart behind." ROGER NORTH. Slowly and solemnly tolled the deep bell — seventy strokes it tolled, for the seventy years, the allotted term of man's existence — years too many if they have been idly wasted, leaving no mark behind but one perchance of harm ; too few, if they have been years of loving ministry like those of the good old rector. It was Barnes's duty to toll the bell ; and he looked upon it in the light of a most sacred charge. Not for worlds, so long as his strength remained, would he allow another to take his place, or even to render him assistance. It seemed to him that in some mysterious way he was helping the souls of friends and neighbours on their journey to another world ; and as he tolled he would think of this, and derive a solemn pleasure from the thought. This was with him an unexpressed belief, but as deeply rooted as that of the red Indian, when he shoots the favourite steed beside the grave of a dead hero, believing that the warrior and his horse will come together in new and distant hunting grounds. Old Barnes had much time for reflection while he tolled those seventy strokes, with long A LONG FAREWELL, 119 pauses between each one. He, too, thought of Kate, whom he had lately seen blithe and gay among the children ; he, too, found unbidden tears rising to his eyes and trickling down his furrowed, weather-beaten cheeks; and from time to time his rough and knotty hand was used to brush the tears away. The news of Mr. Galbraith's death brought true sorrow to the inmates of Belton Hall. Mrs. North, cold and self- restrained though she might be, had a sincere regard for the rector. His loss must leave a blank that could never be replaced among her yearly narrowing circle of old friends, and which it was not in her nature to recruit with new ones. Her first feeling was one of relief that all her guests, except Constance, were departing. But Mrs. North was mistaken in thinking that she would retain the pleasure of her niece's society. It did not at all agree with Miss Erskine's views to remain unnecessarily in a house where sorrow reigned, if only in a secondary degree. Besides, she soon perceived that much of Roger's time would be taken up until after the i2o ROGER NORTH. rector's funeral ; and as one of her principal objects for staying at the Hall was to attract her cousin, she no longer cared to remain when the opportunity failed her for carrying such a purpose into practice. Hence she made up her mind to go north to the house of some friends, who would be ready to welcome her on receipt of a telegram. She knew perfectly well that her aunt would be displeased by this change of plan ; but trusted to the facility she possessed of putting things in such a way as to appear to be consulting only the convenience of others, when, in reality, her own pleasure was the mainspring of her action. Constance did not overrate her powers, and left the Hall still high in the good opinion of her aunt. Mrs. North parted from her most affectionately, arranging that they should meet in a week's time at Carlisle, en route for Scotland ; and promised, if possible, that Roger should be there also. Thus Mrs. North was once more alone with her son ; and, softened by the presence of death, she was ready to allow him, without molestation, to obey every dictate of his heart, which prompted him to supply a brother's place A LONG FAREWELL. 121 to the orphaned girl, both for her own sake, and, hardly less, for the love and honour he bore to her late father. And Roger, what were his feelings when he heard how quickly the forebodings had been realized which Mr. Galbralth had so lately expressed to him ? They were very real, and very deep. He had loved the rector almost as he would a father. He had ever found in him a considerate friend ; and had been accus- tomed for years to appeal to him as he would have done to his own father, for counsel and advice in many things. Then for Kate — how poignantly he felt for her grief ! how he longed for more than the right of a friend to share it with her, and by his love and sympathy to minister to her consolation. Major Stephens had sent a messenger to the Hall immediately on the discovery of the rector's death, and early next morning Roger hastened to the rectory. He found Sydney Ferrars on the point of departure ; and the unfeigned concern visible on his face caused the hand-grasp between the two to be more cordial than it had been before. "This Is awfully sad," said Sydney. ''I 122 ROGER NORTH. don't half like going, and yet I am in the way, and don't see what else there is for me to do. I would give anything to be able to offer some help to poor Miss Galbraith ; but of course I can't, and I envy you your greater usefulness as an old friend. I have asked Mrs. Stephens to tell her some time how sorry I am to leave like this, without saying good-bye. As likely as not I may never see her again, as I suppose I shall be returning before long to that infernal hole in South America." Roger was sensible of a keen joy as he heard these concluding words. They were walking towards the stable-yard, and there found the pony carriage, once more in readiness for Sydney's use, with Sam to drive as before ; but the groom's gay, rollicking manner was gone, and old Rufus himself could not have been more grave and solemn. " Major Stephens did not wait to trust me with the telegram to summon Mr. Beaumont," remarked Sydney. ''He sent it this morning as soon as he thought the office would, be open. Fortunately Miss Galbraith knew of an address which would find her uncle, as it appears he has just gone abroad. A LONG FAREWELL. 123 *' Indeed?" said Roger. "Then he cannot be here for several days." " I suppose Miss Galbralth will go and Hve with him now ? " enquired Sydney. " Yes, I suppose so," replied the other. There was no more time to delay if Sydney were to catch the train. They bade each other good-bye, and Roger watched the carriage out of sight, little thinking with what feelings he should regard Sydney Ferrars the next time they met. On his returning to the house. Major Stephens stood on the threshold ; and they went together to the dining-room, where they found Mrs. Stephens still sitting at the break- fast table. Roger had refrained from asking Sydney Ferrars any questions relating to Kate ; her grief was too hallowed in his eyes, and lay too near his heart, to bear mentioning to a com- parative stranger. But he had no need to make any inquiries of Mrs. Stephens ; for, un- asked, she poured forth the fullest details of all that had occurred. She ended by telling him that, after the first outburst of grief which followed her recovery from the swoon, Kate 124 ROGER NORTH. had been much calmer, and more self-controlled than she had ventured to expect. " In fact," concluded the kind lady, wiping away some tears, " I do not believe the dear child has cried so much as I have. I have insisted on her remaining upstairs at present, as she is worn out both in mind and body ; but I do not think we have any cause for alarm as to the effect this great shock may have upon her health. However, I must go now and see after her ;" and Mrs. Stephens hurried away. Left alone, the two friends found much to talk over. *' It is very unfortunate," began the Major, with some little importance, '' that there is no chance of Beaumont's arriving for several days. This makes it absolutely necessary that you and I should take all arrangements into our own hands. We must do our best, but neither of us being relations it is awkward, very — eh, North ?" Roger informed the Major of what had passed, on the previous day, between Mr. Galbraith and himself respecting the will. '' Then you are named joint executor and trustee," said the Major, a little crest-fallen. A LONG FAREWELL. 125 ''Well ! that will take all responsibility off my shoulders, but of course you can command my assistance in anything. At all events, I have done no harm in taking upon myself to telegraph to Beaumont." Roger assured him to the contrary ; and they found enough to occupy them, both on that day and those that immediately fol- lowed. There were no other near relations to summon. Major and Mrs. Stephens remained at the rectory, as a matter of course, to take care of the orphaned girl. Except her sister Mary, so far away, she possessed no near female relative. Mr. Galbraith had been among the youngest of his family ; and, dying himself an old man, had survived all his brothers and sisters ; and it happened that no great intimacy had been kept up with their children, scattered as these were both far and wide. On the mother's side, Mr. Beaumont and a cousin, hardly known to Kate, were the sole surviving relations ; thus the girl doubly needed the sympathy of her kind friends. The account Mrs. Stephens had given to Roger, that Kate's grief was neither wild nor 126 ROGER NORTH. passionate, was a true one. She woke, indeed, in the morning from the deep sleep into which exhaustion had thrown her with the strange, heavy sensation that something terrible — she knew not what — had happened ; a feeling which all have experienced in times of sudden cala- mity or sorrow. Then the toll of the passing bell fell upon her ear, and she remembered that she was an orphan. But even in the hours of sorest grief, the tender-hearted and unselfish can find a con- solation in the thought that their great loss is the lost one's greater gain. From the first, Kate was able to rejoice that her father had been spared the trial of farewell to her, and that his long years of mourning for her mother were at last ended. But, when she knelt by her bedside, and remembered that no longer could she pray for his earthly needs — then the natural tears would have their way. From her constant ministrations in the homes of the poor, Kate was too familiar with the aspect of death to regard it with any fear or shrinking ; and for the first two days it was her greatest comfort to steal alone into the room, where the beloved form lay, and gaze A LONG FAREWELL. 127 upon the features so soon to be hidden from her sight. On the evening of the second day the coffin was closed, and she could only bear witness to her love by keeping it fair and beautiful with flowers. She clung more closely and affectionately to those around her, especially to her dear old nurse and Mrs. Stephens. After the first day, she went about the house much as usual ; and though her face was pale and sad, and her gay laugh hushed, she could still smile in response to the kindly efforts made to cheer and support her. It made one heart ache, with perhaps a sharper pain than her own, to see her thus ; but Roger's delicate and unselfish nature re- strained him from the slightest show of more than a brother's sympathy. Kate was willing, and even eager, to give her help in anything that concerned her father; and wrote herself to one or two of his oldest friends, whom she felt sure would desire to pay the last tribute to his remains. And thus the quiet, sad days sped slowly on, until the fifth evening after Mr. Galbraith's death found Major and Mrs. Stephens awaiting 128 ROGER NORTH. the arrival of Mr. Beaumont, whom Roger North was to drive from the station. Kate had gone upstairs, thinking she would rather not be present when her uncle came. The Major was pacing restlessly up and down the room. After a while he paused by his wife. *' It will be a sad change for us, my dear," he said, "when this house passes into other hands. I can't bear to think of it. Ah well ! one never knows what is coming ; and I little thought when the dear old rector told us he was going into the study that it was the last time I should hear his voice. And we shall sadly miss this bright young girl, who has helped to cheer our dull middle age." '' Yes, indeed," replied Mrs. Stephens, with a sigh ; '' but I want to speak a word to you about her, Robert, before Mr. Beaumont arrives. I cannot bear the idea that she should go away with him at once, no female friend at hand ; so I wish to propose a plan. I believe it will be for the best that she should leave Belton as soon as possible, and be spared the pain of seeing new people settling them- selves in the old home. The young feel such A LONG FAREWELL. 129 things very keenly. It would be no good taking her to our house. But my idea is that she should go with me to some quiet seaside place in Devonshire. You could settle us there ; and then visit among your old friends for some shooting, and look us up now and then. What do you say ? If you agree, I will speak about it to Mr. Beaumont this evening." The Major's rule of life was to fall in with his wife's plans ; sometimes, for the sake of appearances, he made a show of resistance, but on this occasion he felt too depressed to assert himself Besides, there was nothing in the proposal contrary to his inclinations, and if there had been, his kind heart would have prompted a sacrifice of his own wishes for the sake of Kate : hence he gave his wife full permission to act as she thought best. The sound of approaching wheels put an end to their conversation, and in a few minutes they were exchanging greetings with Mr. Beaumont. He was a man still on the right side of sixty ; for although the friendship with his brother-in- law dated from Oxford days, they were not VOL. I. 9 130 ROGER NORTH, undergraduates together. Mr. Galbraith had been the younger man's college tutor, and the acquaintance thus begun had ripened as years went on ; and both remained resident at Oxford until Mr. Galbraith accepted the living of Belton, which was in the gift of his college. Mr. Beaumont's appearance was undeniably prepossessing. He was above middle height, well-built, and his face was of a decidedly aristocratic character ; while his iron-grey hair harmonized well with his regular and strongly- defined features. His manner was remarkable for its extreme courtesy, and he was a great favourite among ladies and young people. But with all his deference for women, he had never yet found one for whose sake he was willing to renounce his freedom. He was unfeignedly distressed by the news which had overtaken him on his summer rambles ; and when Kate returned to the drawing-room he came forward and took both her hands in his, kissing her affectionately, as he said, — " You must look upon me as a second father, my dear." However, when, later on, Mrs. Stephens found an opportunity of mentioning the project A LONG FAREWELL. 131 she had near her heart, he was most profuse in his thanks for her kindness and affection towards his niece ; and willingly agreed to leave her in the lady's charge until he re- turned in November to his London residence, which for the future would be Kate's home. In the course of their conversation, Mrs. Stephens was delighted to find that Mrs. Vale would not be separated from Kate. Mr. Beaumont well knew her valuable qualities. She had been an inmate of his house some years ago, before his sister married ; and he had already made up his mind to offer her the responsible post of housekeeper. It was late before Mrs. Stephens and Mr. Beaumont said good-night, mutually pleased with the arrangements they had made for Kate. Once more the bell was tolling solemnly from the church-tower ; and the churchyard was thronged with those who wished to pay the last tribute of love and respect to the rector. There was none of the pomp of woe in the simple ceremony — nothing but the far more precious homage of loving hearts. From the first Kate had desired to follow her father to the grave. Mrs. Stephens tried in 132 ROGER NORTH. vain to dissuade her, thinking it would be too great a trial for her strength ; but after- wards she was glad that her well-meant efforts had been unsuccessful ; for the sight of rich and poor gathered together, all so truly mourn- ing, was one which could not fail to bring a sweet consolation to the daughter's loving heart. Tenderly and reverently the coffm was borne on the shoulders of men to whom the burden was a labour of love ; tenderly and reverently it was lowered into the grave, and covered with fair flowers, offerings of affection and symbols of purity ; quietly and sorrowfully the crowd dispersed, and left behind in the old churchyard one more grave which would not soon be forgotten. Roger North felt a great reluctance to carry out the plan his mother had formed for their round of visits in Scotland, but her heart was set upon it. There was no reason that he could openly allege against it, though never had he been less inclined for the gaieties of country visits. When he found that Kate was going away almost immediately with Mrs. Stephens, he had to own, with a sigh, that for her sake it was wisely planned. A LONG FAREWELL, 133 It reconciled him, in a measure, to his en- forced absence from Belton, only he would have dearly liked to remain there at least until her departure. But even Mrs. Stephens was dis- posed to hunt him away. She threw out a suggestion that it would be necessary for him to go and see Mr. Beaumont when the latter returned to town and Kate was domiciled in his house ; and hinted that the girl would be best left alone for the present. So it fell out that the day after the rector's funeral Roger came to the rectory to see Mr. Beaumont and to say good-bye. When the two had finished their business, Roger went to seek Kate in the garden, where he learnt that she had gone. He found her on a favourite garden seat, and poor old Rover by her side ; the faithful dog regarding her with wistful eyes, as though he would ask whither her gay spirits had fled. The girl's heavy black dress made her appear fairer and paler than of yore; and the smile with which she greeted Roger had in itself a pathos different to the arch playfulness that used to suit her face so well. " I have come to bid you good-bye, Kate," he said, as he took her hand. 134 ROGER NORTH. *' Then you really go to-morrow, Roger ? " *' Yes," he replied, as he sat down by her side. His heart was full to overflowing, and words failed him ; only on one subject could he have poured forth his thoughts with eloquence ; but to speak of his love when her grief was still so fresh would have appeared to him as sacrilege. Thus Fate sealed his lips, and words remained unspoken which might have changed the current of their lives, and saved each one from a world of suffering. Kate was the first to break the silence. '' Mrs. Stephens has been telling me this morning that she has written already for lodg- ings, and we are to go away in a week or ten days, at the latest. I would much rather stay here with Mamsie to the last ; there will not even be time to say good-bye to everyone in the village. But," she added, with a shadow of her old pout, "Mrs. Stephens is very unkind, and says it will be better that I should not ; and that I can come and stay with her very soon, and see them all again." The girl gazed lovingly at the scene she knew so well — the old house, the church beyond, and then resumed, — A LONG FAREWELL. 135 *' How Strange it will be to live in London after dear, dear Belton ! Mamsie will be the only bit of the old home there. But you will come and see me very soon when I go to uncle's, won't you, Roger ? " and she turned towards him, with her pretty, pleading manner. ''Yes, indeed I will," he replied, earnestly, thinking it would be impossible that anything could prevent his doing so. " I have a favour to ask you," said Kate, after another pause. " Will you take care of my poor old Rover for me ? I cannot bear to part with him ; but I don't think uncle would like him in the house;" and the tears dimmed her sight as she laid one hand caressingly on the old dog's head. " Of course I will," said Roger — " you cannot doubt it." Then he looked at his watch. " It is hard to say good-bye, but I must go now, Kate." " I will go with you to the house then," she said, and rose at once. Roger felt he would rather have spoken his farewell to her there, with no other witness than the sky, and trees, and flowers ; but he said nothing, and they went indoors, where they 136 ROGER NORTH. found Major and Mrs. Stephens waiting to see the last of him. The hearts of all were full ; all felt it was the breaking up of the intimate companionship which had made the life at Belton so sweet and pleasant. Major Stephens tried to be jocular, and rallied Roger on the number of grouse he was to shoot. Mrs. Stephens laughed at her husband's feeble attempts at cheerfulness, be- cause she felt inclined to cry. But it was of no use to prolong the parting, and Roger neither saw nor heard anything after he held Kate's slender fingers in his strong grasp for the last time. No words would come to his lips ; but before he withdrew his long and earnest gaze, there was a slight flush on her face, which sent him away with the sweet hope that she had at last awoke to a faint consciousness of his love. CHAPTER IX. NOT AN UNCOMMON CASE, " It Is of no use to talk about It any longer — I cannot do It, and there's an end of the matter ! " The speaker was a well-dressed, well-pre- served man, a good way past middle age ; the place, the dining-room of a handsome house In Regent's Park. The table was spread with fair linen, costly silver, and the remains of a late breakfast. Through lace curtains, which shaded the windows, a well-appointed brougham could be seen standing at the door ; and the horse was pawing the ground as if impatient at being kept waiting longer than its high spirit could well brook. The one other occupant of the room was Sydney Ferrars. He was leaning on the back of an arm-chair which stood at the head of the 138 ROGER NORTH. table. His face wore a very different expression to that which it had carried during his visit to Belton Rectory, for now it was one of intense dissatisfaction and gloom, while with nervous fingers he pulled fiercely at his silky moustache. The elder man stood with his back to a cheer- ful fire, and held the Ti77tes in his hand, making the paper crackle frequently as he involun- tarily jerked it in his irritation. *' No," he repeated, " it's of no use for you to ask me for another five thousand. When you went to South America, three years ago, I thought I had set you up for life. Your cousin, George Ramsay, had no more capital to start with than you had, and he has done very well." ''You forget," said Sydney, morosely, ''George had some money with his wife." "Very well," replied his father sharply, "follow his example, and find a wife with a fortune. I don't know of what use your good looks, and your talent for singing and acting, have ever been, except to lead you into mischief ; turn them to some account, and captivate a lady who pos- sesses some of the needful. That's the best advice I can give." NOT AN UNCOMMON CASE. 139 " I don't see how I can do that," said Sydney, with a bitter laugh. '' I must return to South America to be sold up." '' Oh ! you can stop here any reasonable time," remarked Mr. Ferrars, '' I am not going to turn you out of doors ; but to give you ^v^ thousand in hard cash is a different matter. You must remember you are not an only son. And," he added, with an increasing air of annoyance, "there was a letter from Charlie only yesterday, about some debts he must pay off before leaving Malta. Then there are Reginald's expenses at Oxford. You boys seem to think I am made of money, and forget that it has been gained by the hard work which you all despise. Frederick is the only one that I can fairly consider off my hands. Then the girls are no slight expense ; luckily Gertrude and Frances have married well. With you, it has always been the same — never satisfied ; first trying one thing, and^ then another, and always wanting something you could not get. I told you, when you chose to go sheep-farming, that it was the last start you might expect from me ; in spite of which you turn up in three years' time, and want more money." 140 ROGER NORTH, " You forget, sir," said Sydney, " that the life was no choice of mine ; you almost forced me into it. I would rather have tried my luck on the stage." ''Stage indeed!" retorted Mr. Ferrars, now thoroughly angry. *' No son of mine shall ever follow that profession. If he did, I would dis- own him, and he should never darken these doors again." " At least you must admit," said Sydney, with rising colour, "that if you put a fellow into a position for which he is thoroughly un- suited, the result is likely to be disastrous." The angry reply which trembled on the father's lips was arrested by the appearance of a footman, who entered to clear the breakfast table. The excited voices caused him to hesi- tate a moment through a fear that he was in- truding; and before he had time to retreat his master's wrath was diverted to himself. Mr. Ferrars used some strong language ; and then, "Go away, James," he ended, angrily; " can't you see when you are not wanted ? " James disappeared more quickly than he came ; but the slight diversion had given Mr. Ferrars time to remember that his brougham NOT AN UNCOMMON CASE. 141 had been standing at the door some half- hour. He waited a moment to cool down before delivering his last word. '' You have my final answer, Sydney. If you are in. difficulties you must find your own way out of them. And think of my advice about a rich wife. No doubt," he added, with an un- pleasant sneer, '' your mother and sisters can help you in that matter better than I can." With this he left the room ; and Sydney, whose gloomy countenance had by no means brightened during the conversation, strolled to the window and watched his father rapidly descend the steps, give his orders in a short sharp voice, and enter the carriage, which quickly disappeared round the street corner. The footman re-entered the room, and was removing the breakfast things. Sydney looked round, and scowled at him. The man's move- ments were quiet enough, but Sydney was in a mood when the merest trifie will cause irrita- tion. Then he turned on his heel, and passing through the door, ascended the staircase with the reverse of a light step — or light heart either, if his step were an indication of his heart. 142 ROGER NORTH, The drawing-room that he entered, as well as the larger one into which it opened by wide folding doors, was lofty and spacious. Both were handsomely furnished, and the smaller apartment bore abundant traces of the musical tastes prevalent in the family. A grand piano was there of course ; and a harp, a violin, and various smaller instruments were distributed about the room. By the window sat a girl, apparently four- or five-and-twenty years of age. Tall, and of a well-proportioned, though fully developed, figure, she possessed a brilliant complexion, dark hair, and deep blue eyes, which gave her a more than common claim to be called good- looking. She was engaged in painting, with a credit- able amount of skill, a design of birds and flowers, on a china plate. As Sydney entered she looked up quickly and anxiously. *' Well ! did you speak to papa again before he went out ?" " Yes," he replied, gloomily ; '* I pressed It on him as much as I dared, but " Here the girl laid her fingers on her lips, and glanced towards the fireplace. NOT AN UNCOMMON CASE. 143 Sydney's eyes turned in the same direction. *' Oh, that tiresome child is there ! Yes, you are right, ' Little pitchers have long ears. Send her away, can't you, Julia?" Julia nodded in acquiescence. '' Barbara," she said, " take your book to the school-room ; or, if there is no fire there, to the work-room. You are in the way here." The child, as Sydney had called her, was a girl of fourteen ; but from her appearance it would have been hard to judge her age ; for her body was small and her face wizened. Poor child ! she had nothing of the freshness of youth to attract admiration. Rather she was a painful contrast to those about her. She sat on a low basket-chair, close by the fire, her head supported by small bony fingers, as it bent low over the pages of a book that rested on her knee. The sallow hue of con- stant ill-health tinged her cheeks, and gave a drawn look to her peevish features. The eyes were her sole redeeming characteristic ; they were large, dark, and intelligent. When she rose sulkily, in obedience to Julia's com- mand, which had been a second time repeated, 144 ROGER NORTH. she limped painfully across the room, and a slight deformity in her back became apparent. "■ I wish Barbara's health were better," mur- mured Julia, half to herself, '' so that it would be worth while to have a governess to look after her, and keep her out of the way." The girl evidently heard the remark, for a look of anger darted from her eyes as she left the room, which she did muttering to herself, and slamming the door behind her. Meanwhile, Sydney had looked into the larger room to satisfy himself that it was unoccupied ; and then sat down in the low chair which Barbara had vacated. Julia was the first to speak. "■ I am afraid by your face that you have not been successful. What did papa say ? " " Say ! " repeated Sydney, with bitterness ; ''said that he would not give me another farthing. A nice sort of father, to live in all this luxury, when the want of a few thousands means ruin, absolute ruin, to me ! " " Is it indeed so bad as that?" said Julia, laying down .her paint-brush, and turning to her brother with much concern. "Oh! it can't be ; surely you exaggerate — you had NOT AN UNCOMMON CASE. 145 such a good sum to start with three years ago." '' Not a bit of it, Julia. I have not told you the worst. I have debts — debts that will cause the place to be sold up, if I return to Buenos Ayres without money to pay them." ''What sort of debts?" asked Julia, un- easily. " Well, if you will have it, some of them are debts of honour." '' Oh, Sydney ! " exclaimed his sister, '' surely you have never been so mad as again to '' " Yes, I have," he interrupted, " if you choose to call it mad. But how can a man live in a dull hole like that without a little excitement ? I do not see how my father could expect anything else when he sent me there." '' Did you tell him all this?" " Rather not ! " he replied, with a bitter laugh ; '' I made my case as good as I could without confessing that." ''What can be done?" said Julia, mourn- fully. "Done! I don't know — hang myself perhaps. VOL. I. 10 146 ROGER NORTH. I might as well do that as what the governor proposes — sell myself to a rich wife." " Did he really suggest that you should marry?" asked Julia, eagerly. '' Yes, always provided that the lady had a fortune to support me with, — that plan would cost him nothing." "Well, Syd," his sister said, reproachfully, " I have told you the same thing myself. Look at Sophy Burns ; she would have ac- cepted you in a moment had you asked her last June when you returned home. Now it is too late ; she is to be married next month." "Yes, and the man, whoever he be, is welcome to her — Gorgon that she is, notwith- standing her five thousand a year! I don't think I could do it for fifty thousand, unless it were arranged for us to live apart." " You cannot have everything, Syd ; and she was really a very nice girl. But seriously, a marriage of that kind is the only thing that I can see to help you out of your difficulties." " Well, it must be managed quickly then ; for I have a letter by this mail from Thorpe, who says that my creditors are getting impatient, and that he must soon know something positive, NOT AN UNCOMMON CASE. 147 or he won't be able to keep their hands off the place much longer." '' Can't you put him off with promises, while you gain time to look round ? " '' I have done a good deal of promising already, Julia ; but I must try again." At this moment the door of the other room was opened, and the sound of voices came through the half-closed folding-doors. Sydney looked round annoyed. '* There's the mother," he said, in a low tone, " and that horrid old gossiping friend of hers, Lady Avery. Her ears would detect a scandal through ten brick walls, so we must not talk here any longer. Come to the billiard-room, there's a good girl ; I want a cigar, and per- haps that will have a soothing effect." " I will bring my painting," said Julia, be- ginning to gather her materials together. '' No, no," said Sydney, " leave those things here, an you love me. I want all your attention." Julia looked at her birds and leaves regret- fully. They were just in the state when a few touches would make a marvellous improve- ment ; but then she was a good-natured girl in 148 ROGER NORTH. her way, and really fond of her brother ; so she wiped her brushes and put them by. This done, she followed Sydney to the billiard-room, which had been built out from the back of the house. Here there was no chance of interruption, and an hour or more was passed in discussion of a kind all sisters know, and whose salient points consist of great demands upon their sympathy and little attention being paid to their advice. The Ferrars family was a large one, consist- ing of four sons and five daughters. Two of the daughters, one older and one younger than Julia, were married. The fourth, Mabel, had been introduced during the past season. She was almost a beauty, and Mrs. Ferrars hoped to see her marry well like Gertrude and Frances, and make up for the disappointment she felt at seeing Julia single at five-and-twenty. However, it was Mrs. Ferrars' role to be the trumpeter of her children's merits, and she did not fail to whisper to her many friends that Julia did not remain single for lack of offers. " Only she is very particular," she added, "and her talents and superiority make her desire to find a man to whose intellect she can bow." NOT AN UNCOMMON CASE. 149 With Mabel ended the ambition of Mrs. Ferrars as regarded her daughters. As for Barbara, she was considered a blot in a family, distinguished for well-proportioned limbs and handsome faces. From babyhood she had been unlike the rest ; always sickly from the first, while they were never ailing ; and constantly suffering great pain, which the doctors could not cure, bu:t did sometimes alleviate. Her mother always spoke of her as " my poor afflicted child,' and the pitying tone, when overheard by Bar- bara, acted as gall on a naturally proud and re- sentful temper. Poor child ! if placed in a home where she could have found more sympathy she might have proved a very different character ; but thrown as she was among those who esteemed, as good things above all else, health and pleasure and beauty and riches, she became a misery to herself and a constant source of irritation to her family. * Of the sons, Frederick, the eldest, was now past thirty. His parents felt great pride in his career, for he had always been successful — at school, at college, and later at the Bar. He was careful in money matters, and continued to 150 ROGER NORTH. live with the family when not on circuit ; in all which he was a great contrast to Sydney. Of the two younger sons, Charles, the third, was a gay young officer ; while Reginald, who was at Oxford, took more after Frederick. Mr. Ferrars himself was a man who had worked hard at his profession, and attained success ; but when the day's work was over he loved to be at ease and quiet, and took no real trouble about the welfare of his children. So long as he paid for their education, and started them in life, he thought that he had done his duty, and concerned himself little about their characters or failings. He enjoyed their companionship in his leisure hours so long as they entertained him by their high spirits or accomplishments ; but directly they gave him trouble he became irritable, and sometimes unreasonable. The mistakes made by Mrs. Ferrars were of a different nature. No harsh word ever passed her lips, but she spoiled her children by a fond and foolish adulation. Her sons especially she was never tired of praising, either before their faces or to anyone who could be induced to listen. She was a vain woman, with a great NOT AN UNCOMMON CASE, 151 desire to rise in society ; and never lost an opportunity, or spared any pains, or heeded any rebuff, if she thought it possible to gain a step by forcing her acquaintanceship on those whose position was above her own. In this her husband neither thwarted nor assisted her, but on one point was always obdurate. It was a daily^ trial to her ambition that they should reside in so unfashionable a locality as the Regent's Park ; and she would dearly have loved to move her household gods even to a smaller and less convenient mansion were it in Belgravia or Mayfair. But it was in vain that she endeavoured to make Mr. Ferrars adopt this view. He preferred comfort to fashion, and he knew that an increased rental would necessitate the curtailment of luxuries which he valued more than the honour of living among the creme de la cr^me. Such were the home influences among which Sydney Ferrars had grown to manhood; and perhaps of all her sons he was the greatest favourite with his mother, and had been the most indulged. The charm of his handsome face, winning manners, and good voice, would 152 ROGER NORTH. have been apt to blind any mother to his fail- ings ; and a woman like Mrs. Ferrars looked no deeper than the surface. His personal accom- plishments made her hope for great things, and she was terribly disappointed, when, after wasting much time in trying first one pursuit and then another, he had gone to South America. Since his return she had often racked her brain with the problem of procuring a rich wife to mend his fortunes, just as lately had been suggested by Mr. Ferrars and Julia. But rich wives to be had for the asking are not everywhere to be found, and as when the hawk could not find a heron it had to swoop down upon a smaller prey, so Sydney Ferrars had to be contented with the wife whom Fate threw in his path. At a later hour, three riding horses were wait- ing at the door ; and presently Sydney Ferrars, with Julia and Mabel, mounted, and rode in the direction of the Row. The day was bright and sunshiny, though, as it was late in October, the air was sufficiently fresh and crisp to render a gallop pleasant exercise. They rode slowly through the crowded thoroughfares, waiting to put their NOT AN UNCOMMON CASE. 153. horses in a canter until they reached the Park, no longer thronged with equestrians as during the season. Julia would as soon have kept to the rides in Regent's Park, but Mabel thought differently, and carried her point. The younger girl offered a great contrast to her brother and sister. She was a small fairylike creature, with pretty, piquant face ; bright, waving chestnut hair, and complexion like a peach. By disposition she was apt to be a flirt, — not altogether a heartless one, because in all her affairs, of which she had always one on hand, she sincerely believed herself to be in as desperate a condition as her victim for the time being. So far these flirtations had not resulted in an engagement, because it happened that if the man were eligible he had stopped short before proposing ; while those who had laid their hearts at her feet had nothing more substantial to offer, and were quickly dismissed by the prudent Mrs. Ferrars. Mabel was far from being unamiable, and devoted herself to pleasing everybody ; though, mixed with more unselfish motives, her craving for admiration contributed a good deal to produce her amiability. Her brothers used 154 ROGER NORTH. laughingly to say that Mabel would flirt with a crossing-sweeper, or an old beggar-woman, failing any one else with whom to keep her hand in practice. At the present moment her heart was in the keeping of a junior clerk at the Foreign Office, with whom she had been forbidden to hold further communication ; and it was in the hopes of an opportunity for exchanging glances with her disconsolate lover that she persisted in taking her brother and sister in the direction of Hyde Park. The trees already wore a wintry aspect ; the few leaves yet left were sear and withered, though away from the smoke of town in many a country dell and woodland the brightly-tinted foliage was still in its autumnal glory. But in spite of the fallen leaves the Park looked bright and cheerful, and the three spent more than an hour in cantering along its pleasant rides. Occasionally they met friends on horseback, or on foot, with whom they exchanged a few words ; and then, much to Mabel's chagrin, they passed through the Marble Arch and left the Park, and with it all chance of meeting her junior clerk. As they turned into the street, two men, who were about NOT AN UNCOMMON CASE. 155 to cross the road, paused to let their horses pass. The girls bowed to the elder of the two, and the other also raised his hat, but as If In courtesy, rather than as claiming their acquain- tance. The girls were nearest the pavement, while Sydney rode on the outside. " Who was that .^ " he asked. "■ Don't you know ? " replied Julia. '' It was Mr. Beaumont." ''Beaumont!" exclaimed Sydney; "can it be the same Mr. Beaumont who is Kate Galbralth's uncle ? " " No doubt of It," said his sister. " How do you come to know him ? I never remember seeing him before." '' I don't think papa knew him until after you went to South America," said Julia. '' But I wonder you have not happened to see him since your return ; he Is often at our house now." " Where does he live ? " asked Sydney. '' In Pordand Place." *' I wonder who that gentleman was walking with him ? " said Mabel. " He had such a pleasant face." " Now I think of it. It must have been 156 ROGER NORTH. North," answered Sydney. '' I did not re- cognize him at the moment." " North ! who is he ?" asked Mabel. Her brother proceeded to explain, and then continued, — '' I wonder if Kate Galbraith is at her uncle's now. We must find out, Julia, and you must go with me to call." '' What is she like ? " inquired Julia. '* A charming girl — fresh, simple, and pretty," was the answer, given with some show of enthusiasm. '' Take care, Sydney ! " said Julia, in warning tones. " Has she any fortune ?" " I neither know nor care," he replied, rather nettled by the reminder. " I only know she is a great deal nicer than many who have." They were in a noisy part of the street, and Julia employed herself in endeavouring to recall all that she had heard of Mr. Galbraith' s fortune, and the likelihood of his daughter inheriting anything from him which would make her a prize sufficiently good for Sydney. She could come to no satisfactory conclusion, and determined to make enquiries before assisting her brother to renew the acquaintance begun at NOT AN UNCOMMON CASE. 157 Belton In the summer. If he were to fall in love with a penniless girl it would be a fatal step, and she feared an irretrievable one. She knew Sydney well enough to be aware that it would be hard under any circumstances to induce him to pay attention to a woman who did not take his fancy ; and once in love with another, It would become simply an Impossibility. She knew that Mr. Beaumont was a well-to-do, if not wealthy man, making It not Impossible that his niece might inherit money from her mother, and be regarded by her uncle as his heiress. However, this last point was dismissed as not worth much consideration ; because If Mr. Beaumont chose to marry there were plenty of women willing to accept the position of being his wife. Though young enough to be his daughter, Julia had been conscious of a passing thought that he was a far more agreeable and satisfactory companion than many of the young men who fluttered round Mabel, and lay In waiting to beg for dances when she appeared in a ball-room. With this idea Julia had no objections to cultivate a friendship with Mr. Beaumont's niece ; but like a prudent sister she determined ROGER NORTH. to ascertain something about Kate's fortune, before leading her brother upon dangerous ground. By the time they had reached their own door, and had dismounted from their horses, her fertile brain had carried her much further into the possibilities of the future than the mere preliminary of a morning call. CHAPTER X. THE NEW HOME. It was a dull November day, and a fog hung over the great city. Not one of its worst fogs, for it was possible to see across the streets, and not necessary to light the gas at midday, except in dark back rooms. There had been a slight frost during the night, and everything looked cold and raw and miserable. Thus, at all events, it appeared to Kate Galbraith as she stood at one of the drawing-room windows of Mr. Beaumont's house in Portland Place. She had been in London just a week. Major and Mrs. Stephens had brought her with them from Devonshire, and had accepted Mr. Beaumont's hospitality for a couple of nights that they might see her comfortably settled in her new home. The parting with Mrs. Stephens had been i6o ROGER NORTH. a fresh trial to Kate's affectionate nature ; for it seemed finally to close the leaves of the old life ; and when the last embrace had been given, she felt a sensation of shrinking and a loneliness as she turned her thoughts to the yet unfamiliar features of the days to come. The quiet months passed at the sea-side had done her much good. Mrs. Stephens had wisely and gradually revived her interest in those pursuits which, when she came to reside under her uncle's roof, would help to occupy her time, and brace her mind to what might, at first, appear a somewhat lonely existence. They took long sketching rambles together along the lovely Devonshire coast ; they found interesting books to read aloud ; and Mrs. Stephens took care to hire a piano, and devoted a good deal of time to improve her taste, and rouse in her an ambition to attain a greater proficiency under the tuition of good masters. With these influences at work, though Belton and its old pleasures remained none the less lovingly remembered, Kate arrived in London determined diligently to avail herself of all the advantages that would be within her reach. But beyond the ideas for future occupation THE NEW HOME, i6i which her kind friend had suggested, she employed many a quiet hour in thinking out Httle schemes which were dearer to her heart. She was like her father, and the craving for love and sympathy lay deeply implanted in her nature. She could not be thoroughly happy without feeling that she was necessary to those about her, and derived her chief happiness from ministering to their wants. So, in all her visions of the future, she pictured herself as filling the same place at her uncle's as she had at her father's house. Again, it seemed strange that there would be no cottage homes to visit, but she trusted that, under Mrs. Vale's wing, it might be possible to go among the London poor. At all events she thought she might ask for a class in one of the Sunday-schools, when she came to know the clergyman of the parish. Mrs. Vale hailed her arrival with the greatest delight. Never had the old nurse known so long a separation from her child. With Mr. Beaumont's sanction she had taken the greatest pains to arrange Kate's room, and make it as much as possible like the old familiar one at Belton Rectory. The tears VOL. I. II i62 ROGER NORTH. Started involuntarily to Kate's eyes when she entered and looked round. Once more she saw all her old treasures ; and in addition, some objects of special value which the faithful Mamsie had felt sure she would like to have, and keep constantly in view. Her father's desk and arm-chair stood near the window ; close by were some shelves of much treasured books ; while her mother's portrait, and one of her father taken when he was a young man, hung on the walls. Mrs. Vale had forgotten nothing that she would care for. '' Dear Mamsie," said Kate, impulsively throwing her arms round her nurse's neck, " it is kind of you to have done all this — it makes it seem like home at once ! " Mrs. Vale returned the kiss, well pleased at her success. "It used to be your dear mamma's room," she said, '' and may you only leave it, my dear, to be as happy a bride as she was." Mr. Beaumont welcomed his niece very kindly, and she could not but feel that no pains had been spared to render her home a pleasant one. But Kate experienced one great disappoint- ment, there was no chance of the promised THE NEW HOME. 163 visit of her old friend Roger North ; and this was how it happened. Rumours had reached her, while yet in Devonshire, that Mrs. North had been taken seriously ill during her visit to Scotland ; and about the middle of October,, a long letter came from Roger to Major Stephens, telling all that had occurred. The report of Mrs. North's illness was true. On the eve of leaving Castle Annick, a sudden and dangerous attack of inflammationi of the lungs had seized her. It was a case- beyond the skill of the local practitioners in the Highlands, and a physician had been summoned from Edinburgh. Under his care the fatal symptoms were subdued, and she gradually recovered. When he renewed his visit some weeks after the first attack, he pronounced her fit to travel if every precaution were taken ; but insisted that it was necessary for her to proceed at once to some warmer climate, and avoid the risks of an English winter. Mrs. North, who had never known illness, was indignant at the mere suggestion, and only consented to pass the winter at Cannes on the repeated entreaties of her son. When Roger wrote their plans were formed. A saloon i64 ROGER NORTH. carriage had been engaged to convey them through to London. There they were to rest a few days and obtain further advice, and Roger would take the opportunity to see Mr. Beaumont on business relating to Mr. Gal- braith's will. From London they intended to proceed by easy stages to Cannes, where a friend had hired a villa and servants to be in readiness, as Mrs. North disliked the idea of an hotel. The letter ended with a postscript : — '' Tell Kate," it said, " I am much vexed that I cannot keep my promise to visit her at Mr. Beaumont's as soon as she comes to town. Nothing but the state of my mother's health should have prevented me. However, I hope when my mother regains strength that I may be able to run over to England to attend to my affairs, and then I will not fail to put in an appearance at Portland Place." Strange as it may seem, this simple postscript had taken Roger more time and trouble to compose than the whole of the long letter. Kate regretted very much that she had not been in town when the Norths passed through, especially as they did so only a fort- THE NEW HOME. 165 night earlier than the date of her arrival. She knew Roger would be very anxious about his mother's health, and she would much have liked to meet him, and enjoy one of their old friendly talks. But she learnt more particulars from Mrs. Vale. The latter had been to see Mrs. North's maid, who was an old friend. " And I saw Madam North herself," said the nurse, as she was telling Kate about her visit to Mrs. Prim; ''sadly changed she looked, poor lady ! her voice so weak and low^ quite different to what it used to be, when she always spoke up so short and sharp. Mr. North, too, he came here to see Mr. Beaumont, and didn't look like he used. I daresay he's worried a deal about his mother; and," added the good woman, significantly, " it may be his own affairs, too, have given him something to think of. Mrs. Prim did tell me that, when they were at Sir John's, every one was saying that he and Miss Erskine were to ' make a match of it,' and she believes, from a word dropped now and again by Madam North, that they are only waiting' till the spring for all to be made public." 1 66 ROGER A^ORTH. It was not from any love of gossip that the old nurse repeated this piece of news. She did it with a deliberate intention, and after much communing with herself. In the old days of intimacy at Belton the thought had often crossed her mind that she would like to see her darling the mistress of Belton Hall. But Mrs. Vale was not an acute reader of character, and during the past summer, when Miss Erskine came to visit at the Hall, so much had been said of her being the Squire's destined wife, that this and the lady's exceeding beauty made their engagement seem more than probable. The idea thus suggested became fixed in her mind, and now Mrs. Prim's talk had given it further strength ; so she thought it would be best for her child's peace to look upon the marriage as likely to take place. " That's no fresh news," said Kate, in reply to this communication. '' But," she added, thoughtfully, " I am not quite so sure myself that it is true." The short afternoon was closing In when Kate stood at the drawing-room window, and the fog increased the darkness. The outlook was not exhilarating to one who loved the THE NEW HOME. 167 country. Already the girl felt the restraint of her new life. She had been so accustomed to come and go, free as air, that it wearied her to be unable to take a walk unless with her uncle or attended by one of the upper servants. Then there had been no time yet to settle down to her new occupations ; and this day especially hung rather heavily on her hands. Mr. Beau- mont went out immediately after luncheon with- out inviting her to accompany him ; and the weather was not sufficiently cheerful to make a stroll in the Regent's Park, with a servant for companion, a thing to be desired. Memories of her father and the old life were fast dimming her eyes ; but suddenly she turned from the window, and resolutely forced back the tears. " I must be cheerful and happy," she thought. " I know it is what dear father would wish ; and it would be an ungrateful return to uncle for all his kindness if he found me otherwise." The room was almost dark, save for the fire- light, and Kate was about to ring for lights when the door opened, and Mr. Beaumont entered. "Ah, my dear," he said, as he caught sight 1 68 ROGER NORTH. of his niece, ''you are almost in the dark — you do not understand London ways ; when it is gloomy out of doors we try and make up for it by cheerfulness within." So saying, he rang the bell ; and almost immediately the butler entered carrying a lamp. Mr. Beaumont was one of those who did not like gas ; and gave a preference to the more agreeable light of wax candles or softly burning lamps. "This looks better," he said, settling himself in an arm-chair, when the butler had drawn the curtains and shut out the gloomy prospect. *' What have you been doing all day, Kate ? I am afraid you will find life rather dull with only an old bachelor uncle for companion. But I think you will soon find some friends more of your own age." "Shall I, uncle? "said Kate, trying to look interested. " Yes, my dear," he replied. " I forgot to tell, you this morning that I met the Ferrars at dinner last night, and Mrs. Ferrars made a great many enquiries about you ; and on hearing that you were with me already, said she and her daughters would come to call at once." THE NEW HOME. 169 Kate looked really Interested. '' Do you mean the family of Mr. Ferrars who stayed with us last summer ? " *'Yes — relations of your brother-in-law, George Ramsay. You will find the girls pleasant companions. Miss Ferrars especially Is a very superior person, most accomplished. She was there last night, and seemed exceedingly anxious to make your acquaintance. I do not know so much about the younger sister. Such a crowd of youthful admirers always surrounds her that she has no time to spare for an old fellow like me. They are the very people to consult about masters for you." " I wonder If Mr. Sydney Ferrars has re- turned to South America," said Kate musingly. '' I cannot tell you," replied her uncle ; '' I do not know much about the young men, except the eldest, Frederick, who Is a clever fellow, and a rising barrister.'' . Mr. Beaumont continued talking for a little time, and then took up a paper, while his niece occupied herself with a book. It was not far from the time for the dressing- bell to ring when Mr. Beaumont remarked, " I have some friends dining here to-night — all ROGER NORTH. men, but still, we like to see you look your best, my dear." Kate's first feeling was one of dismay ; for the mourning she had worn since her father's death was of the simplest description. Then she remembered that a dressmaker's box had arrived that afternoon, and was waiting un- opened in her room. For this she had to thank the forethought of Mrs. Stephens, who insisted on employing one of the days she had spent in London in making various additions to Kate's wardrobe, which she considered would be necessary to please the taste of Mr. Beau- mont, who was most fastidious in all matters relating to dress. In this Mrs. Stephens' discernment of character had not been at fault, for Mr. Beaumont was a connoisseur in all questions of taste, and his house bore ample witness to the fact. Everything it contained was perfect of its kind. Each ornament was rare and valuable, or had some history attached to it, connected with the owner's wanderings in foreign lands. For many years Mr. Beaumont had followed no profession, save that of a dilettante in art and literature. He had taken THE NEW HOME. 171 orders when at Oxford, but had never held a cure ; and on inheriting a good fortune from his father he left Oxford, and took up his residence in London, where he gathered round him the society of men distinguished in the world of art, literature, or politics. He had a well-arranged studio, and would often devote many hours a day to painting in water-colours. Then again for a period his library would claim the larger share of his attention ; and always, though preferring his special coterie, he mingled a good deal in fashionable society. Two of the men expected to dinner this evening were among his oldest and most intimate friends. They had passed several years at Eton, and later at Oxford, together. One, Algernon Seaton, was a star of some magnitude in the literary world. He was a leader of thought in his own circle, and his opinions, though somewhat peculiar, were always expressed in a graceful and attractive form, which had procured him a large following of admiring disciples. The other — Lord Evered — was, like Mr. Beaumont, more of a con- noisseur and critic than an actual competitor in the lists for the high honours of art or literature. 172 ROGER NORTH. The third, Francis Rivers, was a young man. He was an artist of great promise, who had suddenly found himself all the rage as a portrait painter ; but he did not forget the earlier and more struggling times, when he had received sub- stantial aid and encouragement from Mr. Beau- mont, and came just as often and as willingly to the house of his old friend as in the days when other engagements were few and his wants many. When Kate returned to the drawing-room she found the others already assembled, and was met by her uncle with an approving smile. Her dress was of dull, rich black silk, relieved by trimmings and ornaments of sparkling jet ; and though some might have condemned the style as too old for one so young, it suited her tall and graceful figure, and set off her youth and fairness. In any case, the effect pleased Mr. Beau- mont, who took her hand kindly. '' Evered," he said, " I think you have met my niece before, and at all events you well remember both her parents." Lord Evered regarded the girl keenly, and bowed low as he took her hand and claimed a previous acquaintance. THE NEW HOME. 173 Introductions to Mr. Seaton and Mr. Rivers followed ; but when dinner was announced it fell to Lord Evered's lot to take Kate to the dining-room. There he devoted himself to the work of making the time pass pleasantly to his young companion. Kate seldom failed to please the taste of mature men ; for from childhood she had been the constant companion of those much older than herself. Though not clever, she could listen intelligently to their conversation, and perhaps satisfied them more by her naive interest and attention than she could have done by any show of wit or learning. When dinner was over Kate found her way to the piano, and began to play softly — airs from Beethoven and Mozart that had been favourites with her father, and which were within the compass of her powers. She be- came so absorbed in the music as not to notice how time was passing ; and when at length she paused, was almost startled by a voice saying, " Thank you." She turned to find Lord Evered standing by her side. '' I was attracted by the music," he said, smiling. '' I left the others deeply engaged in 174 ROGER NORTH. discussing the merits of an artist who has just been harshly judged by the critics." " I am afraid," said Kate, " you will hardly be rewarded for your trouble." '* On the contrary," he replied, ''you play with great taste and feeling. I should like to hear you play again." Thus encouraged, Kate continued, and then Lord Evered pointed out some beauties in the music, which showed how thoroughly he under- stood the subject. Presently Kate said, somewhat timidly, ''You used to know my mother, did you not ^. " " Yes, very well," he answered ; " and though you more resemble your father in outward appearance, yet when I hear you speak it takes me back to days long since — your voice is just like hers. She used to sing very well. How often have I listened to her in this very room ! " Then he added, after a pause, " I should like very much to hear yozi sing." The girl laid a pile of music before her companion. '* Perhaps you would prefer one of my mother's old songs," she said. Lord Evered looked them over. They were THE NEW HOME. 175 somewhat discoloured by age, and on each outside sheet the name, *' AHce Beaumont," was written In delicate pointed characters. On some few, and bearing a later date. It was '' Alice Galbralth." He selected one of the former, and placed It open on the piano. The song was printed In small type, and as It only occupied the double page there were no leaves to turn over ; so Lord Evered sat down to listen, shading his face with one hand. The song was a favourite, and Kate sang her very best, but she did not guess that behind the shading hand the eyes of this grey-headed man were moist with tears. The song was hardly finished when the other men appeared, and entreated for more music. Encouraged by Lord Evered's ap- probation, she conquered her natural shyness In the presence of an audience so critical, and complied. Mr. Seaton came to the piano to turn over the leaves ; while Francis Rivers remal ned at a distance looking at the group with an artist's eye. And It was a pretty picture. The pink- shaded wax-lights threw^ a rosy tint like the 176 ROGER NORTH. first blush of sunrise on the girl, and the dark curtains served as a background to define the delicate outlines of her shapely head and throat. " She would make a better subject to idealize," he thought, " than many whom I have to paint — worse luck to it ! " From that evening dated a fast friendship between Kate and Lord Evered ; and hence- forth she always looked forward with pleasure to the days when he w^as to be her uncle's guest. CHAPTER XI. CASTLE-BUILDING. Much to Kate's delight, the sun rose next day unobscured by fog ; for Mr. Beaumont had made an appointment to accompany Lord Evered and Rivers to a private view of some pictures, and he had promised to take her with him. Directly after luncheon she ran upstairs to prepare for the drive ; and on returning to the drawing-room found visitors, and her uncle entertaining them. The first glance showed them to be a lady and gentleman, both young ; the second told her that the gentleman was Sydney Ferrars. His presence brought a rush of recollections connected with the last time that they had been together. For a few minutes she scarcely knew what passed, or heard one word of the VOL. L 12 178 ROGER NORTH. introduction to Miss Ferrars that followed her entrance ; and then she found herself listening to the latter while Mr. Beaumont talked with Sydney. '' Mamma had a headache to-day," Julia was saying, '* or she intended to have come herself ; and rather than delay the call any longer she has sent me as a substitute. Sydney was most anxious to see you again, after the visit that he enjoyed so much at your house last summer. I have heard a great deal about you from him," she added, pleasantly. Julia's handsome face and cordial manner attracted Kate at once. " He talked to me about you," she said, ''and" — with a wistful look — "I have so few friends in London that it is very nice to meet somebody who is not quite a stranger. "Ah!" replied Julia, smiling; "living with Mr. Beaumont you will soon make plenty of friends ; that is why we came so soon ; we wished to steal a march on others, and have at least a first claim upon your time and attention." Kate flushed with pleasure. " You are very kind," she said. CASTLE-BUILDING. 179 '' Have you been much in town ? " asked Julia. '' No, very little. About once a year we used to pay my uncle a visit." " So much the better. You will find all the more to interest and amuse you during the winter ; and you could not be in better hands than Mr. Beaumont's — he always knows of everything that is worth seeing or hearing. For my part, I prefer the winter in town ; there is time to follow rational pursuits, which is impossible when the racket of the season once commences. But all is fresh to you, and, like my sister Mabel, no doubt you will find your first season everything that is delightful." Mr. Beaumont now turned to speak to Julia, and Sydney moved to a chair by Kate. " I am so delighted to have this opportunity of meeting you again," he said, in a somewhat low key. " It is a pleasure that 1 hardly dared to anticipate." " Yes," she answered ; '^ from whatyou told us I was afraid that you would have returned to South America by now." *' How unkind to place so little faith in my promises ! " said Sydney. '' Have you forgotten i8o ROGER NORTH. our agreement that I was to take charge of any parcels that you wished to send to your sister ? Surely you did not think that I would leave England without letting you know ? " His earnest gaze brought the quick colour to her cheeks. " I — I don't know. I thought perhaps you might not be acquainted with my address." '' At least," he said, with some warmth, '' I have not been long in finding you out. Indeed, had it rested with me alone, this call would have been paid a week ago ; but I wanted my mother or sisters to come with me. I am very anxious that you should know them, and hope that they may take the place of some of the old friends you have left behind at Belton. By the way, I hear you have been with Major and Mrs. Stephens until lately ; how did you leave them?" After this, the conversation turned to remini- scences of Belton, a theme dear to Kate's heart, and into which she threw herself eagerly. But they had not talked long when Julia rose to take leave, saying she knew that Mr. Beau- mont's carriage was waiting, and she would not keep them any longer from their drive. CASTLE-BUILDING. i8i As soon as the callers had left Mr. Beaumont and Kate proceeded to keep their appointment. On being conducted upstairs by the custodian of the pictures, they found Lord Evered and Rivers waiting for them. '' You are behind time, Beaumont," said Lord Evered, as he shook hands. "Yes," replied the other; ''we were detained by callers as we were on the point of starting." " I was afraid all the good light would be gone before you arrived," put in Rivers. " Luckily there is no fog to-day, to spoil one of the best pictures that ever was painted. Miss Galbraith, I hope you take an interest in art ? or you may think our criticisms sound remarkably like prosing." " I shall like to listen, and try to understand," she answered, ''and in any case shall enjoy looking at the pictures." " Well," said Rivers, " don't let us lose any more time. Come, Mr. Beaumont, Lord Evered and I have already been quarrelling over the merits of this Desdemona and Othello. Let us hear what you say about it ? " No more than six or seven oil paintings were displayed to view, and these were arranged i82 ' ROGER NORTH. upon dark crimson screens ; the effect being heightened by the additional advantages that good hght and space could give. Francis Rivers led his companions to the largest and most important work in the room ; and an ani- mated discussion commenced between the three connoisseurs, to which Kate listened for some time with great interest, though far from being able to enter thoroughly into their more subtle criticisms. After a while, a picture on the furthest screen attracted her attention, and she moved away to examine it more closely. ' The subject belonged to the epoch of the French Revolution, and portrayed a tumbril conveying prisoners to the guillotine. The scene was vividly depicted ; by the red-capped populace who lined the street, and feasted its cruel eyes on the people who were about to die ; then the condemned — some with the calm of resignation, others with the apathy of despair, while one alone wasted his ebbing moments in impotent cries and frantic struggles. But all these were subsidiary to the two principal figures, that occupied the back of the tumbril, a man, and a young, almost childlike girl. The man's hair was tumbled over his face, and partly CA STLE-B UILDING. 1 83 shaded his eyes, already half hidden by their drooping lids, as he stood looking down upon the girl. His mouth alone was fully visible, and a smile of ineffable sweetness and content- ment rested upon the parted lips. The girl held his hand clasped in both of hers ; and her whole attitude, including the profile of her up- turned face, gave a most realistic idea of trust and reliance in one stronger than her fragile self. Kate was looking at the picture, wondering what the meaning of it might be, and wishing that she had the clue, when Lord Evered came to her side. '* Does this please you ? " he asked. '' Oh yes," she replied ; " but there must be some story attached to these two figures, which I want to know." " Have you not read the ' Tale of Two Cities ' .^ " inquired Lord Evered ; and when she shook her head, he told, in few and well-chosen words, the touching history of the man who changed places with the husband of the woman whom he loved ; and how the little dressmaker had discovered the change, and then begged that she might hold his hand to the very last, i84 ROGER NORTH. because she was a poor, weak little thing, and it would give her courage if she could cling to one who had done so noble a deed. " How beautiful ! " said Kate, softly, when the narrator paused; '' and I think the artist has done full justice to the tale." " I think he has," replied Lord Evered ; and then, speaking more to himself than to his companion, he added, "It is a grand subject — a wasted life retrieved by one stupendous act of self-sacrifice. We must all admire, but which of us could do the like ? " *' Oh ! " exclaimed Kate impulsively, " I am sure I know one man who is capable of such a deed." '' Do you ? " said her companion, kindly, as he gazed at her enthusiastic face. Then, with a wish to penetrate her mind, he inquired, " On what traits of character do you ground such a belief? as I can hardly suppose you have seen any great deed of heroism in quiet country Belton." Kate was quite at home with Lord Evered, but she paused a moment to collect her thoughts before replying, " Certainly I have seen him perform no great deed of heroism, but I know CA STLE-B UILDING. 1 85 that he has daily given up his wishes to another in httle things, and done it all as if it were the simplest and most natural action in the world. And don't you think," she added, with a flush of eagerness, "that a life like that is just the very preparation needed for some heroic act ? If one did not think so, who would not rather have the chance of one great self-sacrifice, even if it entailed a martyrdom ? " *' Perhaps you are right," said Lord Evered, musingly. '' The little pricks of life demand all our powers of endurance, if we do not wish their sting to leave its venom in our nature. But, child, you little know what you are talking about, when it touches the question of a man so drowning all jealous and less lofty sentiments in his love as to be able to die in the place of the one who is her husband — the one above all others whom natural instincts would teach him to hate. You can know nothing of such feelings, — but," he added, almost beneath his breath, "others may." Kate turned once more to the picture. "How very grieved the woman he loved must have been ! " " Yes, but she could glory too. For though i86 ROGER NORTH. unable to return his love, she was none the less his good angel, and it was the purifying love that he felt for her which raised him from a de- grading life to do a deed that placed a martyr's crown upon his brow." Lord Evered had hardly finished speaking when they were interrupted by the others ; and the artistic criticism of the picture which followed rather jarred upon Kate after dwell- ing for so long on the deeper beauties of the subject. But all were sorry when the waning light compelled them to leave. Lord Evered and Rivers watched the brougham drive away with Mr. Beaumont and his niece ; and Lord Evered stood gazing after it as in a dream, until aroused by his companion. " Which w