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 University of Illinois Library 
 
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 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 1 
 
 31 mt 
 
 By the Author of ' Our Farm of Four Acres ;' ' From Hay \ 
 I Time to Hopping.'* \ 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 London : \ 
 
 SAUNDERS, OTLEY, AND CO., 
 66, Brook Street, Hanover Square, W. 
 
 I ,86:. I
 
 London : 
 F. Shoberl, Printer, 37, Dean Street, Soho.
 
 P^3 
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 CILYPTER I. 
 
 ,^Oii my thirteenth birthday I comiiienced my 
 
 ^' battle with the stern realities of life. In the 
 
 ^ morning I arose a happy, thoughtless child ; 
 
 at night I was a woman in thought and action, 
 
 burthened with heavy cares, and compelled, 
 
 ^ for the j-ake of others, to repress all ex- 
 
 ^ pression of the deep sorrow with which my 
 
 ^N whole heart was filled. 
 
 It was, as I have said, my birthday, and 
 when I met my family at breakfast I was 
 greeted with many affectionate congratu 
 lations and good wishes. 
 
 As I took my seat at the table, I perceived 
 three small packages by the side of my plate ; 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 the first I opened contained a small beau- 
 tifully-bound Bible, on the fly-leaf of which 
 was written, 
 
 " To E"elly, on her thirteenth birthday, from 
 her affectionate mother, Esther Travers." 
 
 I thanked my dear mother again and again 
 for the welcome gift which marked her re- 
 membrance of the day. 
 
 ** I am glad you are pleased with my 
 present, Nelly dear," replied she kindly, 
 '' but now see what your other packets 
 contain. Walter and Edmund are beginning 
 to look impatient at your neglect of them." 
 
 Accordingly, I hastened to unclose a small 
 parcel directed to me in a schoolboy's hand. 
 It contained a gold locket, in which was 
 prettily arranged hair of three different 
 colours, which I immediately recognised as 
 belonging to my mother, father, and sister. 
 On the back was engraved " To Nelly ; from 
 her brothers, Walter and Edmund, on her 
 birthday." While the box in which it was 
 placed bore the saucy inscription of ** To 
 Miss in her teens." 
 
 I thanked my young brothers warmly for
 
 MY ELDEST BROTnEU. 9 
 
 this pretty and acceptable gift. I knew liow 
 long they must have appropriated their pocket 
 money for the piiq)Ose of purchasing such an 
 expenj?ive article ; and delighted as I was at 
 receiving such a proof of their affection, I 
 could not avoid expressing my regret that 
 they should have expended so much on my 
 account." 
 
 " Oh ! don't trouble yourself about that, 
 Nell,-' said Walter. '' If we had not saved 
 the money for the locket it would have been 
 sj^>ent in trash, and now we shall always feel 
 j)rou(l when we see you wear it, for it will 
 remind us how manfully we resisted the 
 appeals of * Old Joe,' when he tried to 
 seduce the money from our pockets by 
 praises of the oranges and toffee he brought 
 into the playground." 
 
 My third parcel held a present from my 
 sister Esther. It was a pocket handkerchief, 
 80 beautifully and elaborately worked, and 
 trimmed with lace of such exquisite fineness, 
 that it might have served as a present to 
 '' Titania " herself. 
 
 On the envelope which enclosed it was 
 
 B2
 
 4 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 written, " To my darling Nelly ; worked for 
 her thirteenth birthday, by her loving and 
 grateful sister, Esther." 
 
 My own dear Esther! This, then, was the 
 work so hastily concealed, whenever during 
 the last few weeks I had entered the room 
 which for three years you had never quitted. 
 Three years passed in the patient endurance 
 of severe pain, unenlivened by even the 
 faintest hope that you might one day rise 
 from the couch on which you had spent such 
 weary hours, and again know the blessings of 
 health and the power of motion. 
 
 Loud were the expressions of admiration 
 bestowed on this beautiful specimen of Esther's 
 taste and industry ; and my father, who all 
 this time had been busily occupied in pe- 
 rusing the Times, disturbed by the voices of 
 my brothers, laid aside his paper, and took 
 the delicate piece of work from my mother's 
 hand. 
 
 " So Esther did this," said he, when he 
 had examined it for a minute or two. ** My 
 poor, poor Esther ! It is another proof of her 
 loving nature. While her, fingers were busily
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 5 
 
 employed with this work she for<^ot her own 
 piiiiifiil destiny, and thought only of the 
 pleasure with which you would receive her 
 
 gift." 
 
 ^ly father sighed deeply as he laid down 
 my present ; and, rising from his seat, said to 
 my mother — 
 
 '' 1 shall be late at the bank to-day, 1 fear, 
 if I wait for the boys to walk with me. 
 They do not appear to have finished break- 
 fast." 
 
 ** Oh ! yes we have, papa ! " cried they 
 toi::ether. ** We shall be quite ready by the 
 time you are." 
 
 "But what is the matter, Nelly?" said 
 Walter, turning to nie ; "you look as if you 
 were going to cry." 
 
 And indeed it was with difficulty I refrained 
 from doinir so. Cormorant that I was for 
 affection, 1 was wounded beyond the power of 
 concealing my emotion that no memento of 
 my birthday had been otfered by my father. 
 He was on the point of quitting the room, 
 when my brother's exclamation drew his 
 attention to my woe-begone face.
 
 6 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 "Cry!" said he. "No; Nelly would 
 never do so unlucky a thing on her birthday. 
 She would be too much afraid of Martha's 
 scolding, even if she had cause for weeping." 
 
 " Dear George," said my mother, " do not 
 tease her — you know how sensitive she is; 
 and I am sure it is the pain of thinking you 
 had forgotten what day it is, which causes 
 her to look so wretched." 
 
 " Is that it indeed, Nelly ?" said my father, 
 as he put his hand into the pocket of his 
 morning-gown, and drew a small morocco 
 case from it. "Never form opinions too 
 hastily, my child. Let this show you that 
 papa did not forget his little daughter on the 
 important day she entered her teens." 
 
 He opened the case and placed it in my 
 hand. A beautiful little gold watch laid 
 within it. 
 
 What girl of thirteen would not have re- 
 ceived such a present with delight? I had 
 often wished for such a treasure, but without 
 the hope of possessing it. Yet now, when it 
 was unexpectedly mine, I placed it on the
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 7 
 
 table almost without a glance, and burst into 
 a violent passion of tears. 
 
 "Good heavens! Nelly," said my father, 
 impatiently, " what can be the matter with 
 you ? I have purchased for you the article, 
 of all others, I knew you coveted, and you 
 receive it as if I had presented you with some 
 fatal omen." 
 
 I could not speak for some seconds, and 
 my dear mother again interposed in my 
 behalf. She seemed to know by intuition 
 the feelings of her children ; and read my 
 lieart as correctly as if it had been a book 
 open to her inspection. 
 
 " Nelly is sorry that papa's gift is so costly. 
 Had you placed it with the others she would 
 have been delighted with it, both for its beauty 
 and as a mark of your affection. Now that 
 she has suffered you to see her disappointment 
 when she imagined you had forgotten her, she 
 fears you will attribute it to a selfish feeling, 
 and, therefore, the value of your gift makes 
 her unhappy. Is not that what you feel, 
 Nelly ? " 
 
 *' Oh ! yes, mamma, I would rather papa
 
 8 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 did not give me the watch. Indeed, indeed, 
 it was not for the value of the present I 
 wished to receive one. It was the thought 
 only that I cared for." 
 
 " Nelly dear," said my father, as he drew 
 me towards him, '* you must correct this 
 fault in your character ; such morbid craving 
 for tokens of affection is not healthy. It 
 will in time make you selfish and exacting, 
 and, by centreing your thoughts too much 
 on yourself, induce a false sentimentality of 
 character, which will eventually bring on the 
 evil you so much dread, and estrange from 
 you the regards of those from whom you are 
 most anxious to receive affection." 
 
 He kissed me tenderly, as he once more 
 prepared to leave the room ; and I could not 
 answer his kind rebuke of my selfishness for 
 the deep sobbing which seemed as if it would 
 burst my heart. 
 
 " Now, Nelly," said my youngest brother 
 Edmund, ^' I think it is very unkind of you 
 to behave as you are doing. You know 
 Martha says there is nothing so unlucky as to
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 9 
 
 cry on a birthday. One would think you 
 wanted to biin^^ misfortune into the house." 
 
 Here Walter interrupted with " And we 
 are to be so very jolly to-day. Don't you 
 remember, papa, that you promised to take us 
 to the theatre on Nelly's birthday ; so you 
 must come home early for the purpose." 
 
 My father kindly promised he would return 
 before his usual hour, and shortly after left 
 the house with the two boys, for the purpose 
 of walking to the City. 
 
 Shortly after their departure, I went up 
 stairs to my sister's room, which I was never 
 allowed to enter till dressed in a white 
 wrapper; she was lifted from her bed and 
 placed on the couch, on which she reclined 
 during the greater portion of the day. 
 
 How beautiful she looked, as she lovingly 
 embraced me, and wished me many, many 
 happy returns of that day ! Pain and long 
 confinement to a sick room had robbed her 
 cheek of every trace of the lovely colour 
 which once bloomed on it, but no shade of 
 the sallow hue, usually seen on the face of an 
 habitual invalid, Iiad usurped its place. Pale 
 
 B 5
 
 10 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 and pure as a lily was the face of my sweet 
 sister, in which every delicate blue vein could 
 be distinctly traced. 
 
 I never saw eyes that in the least resembled 
 Esther's : they were of the dark but vivid blue 
 of the sky on a bright starlight night. So 
 soft, and yet so lustrous in their beauty. 
 They were such loving eyes, too, and always 
 loolced as if they were entreating for affection 
 in return for that she so lavishly bestowed on 
 all around her. 
 
 Though unable to move on the couch with- 
 out assistance, Esther was never idle; sup- 
 ported by pillows, she worked several hours 
 daily, and was never so happy as when she 
 could surprise her friends by presenting them 
 with some article she had secretly worked for 
 them. 
 
 No one was in her confidence but Martha 
 on such occasions, and very proud she was of 
 her young lady's beautiful work. This faithful 
 servant was in the room when I entered it, 
 and had her birthday gift ready to offer me. 
 It consisted of a cookery book, handsomely 
 bound, and my name and the date on which
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 11 
 
 it was presented to ine by " Martha Taylor," 
 printed in gold letters inside the cover. 
 
 I thanked her warmly, and assured her 
 with perfect truth that I was delighted with 
 her present. 
 
 ** Oh, Miss Nelly, I thought you would like 
 it," said she. " It is quite time now that 
 you begun to make yourself useful. Suppose 
 I was to die, who would make the nice jellies 
 and broths that your mamma and Miss Esther 
 almost live on ? And T was thinking that if 
 you liked to come into the kitchen this 
 morning, I would show you how to make the 
 cabinet pudding your papa is so fond of." 
 
 Martha had lived with my mother from tlie 
 time of her marriage. She had nursed all 
 her children. And when three years pre- 
 viously Esther had fallen down stairs, and 
 permanently injured her spine, Martha liad 
 the sole charge of the invalid night and day, 
 and had since been jealous of any one else 
 superseding her in the duty of attending on 
 her. 
 
 But Martha had many other occupations. 
 Not the least important of which was ^uper-
 
 12 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 intending the cooking ; and, therefore, she 
 was compelled to give up her charge to my 
 mother for some hours in the middle of the 
 day. 
 
 For many months after my sister's accident 
 gloom and sorrow hung over our home. The 
 injuries she had received caused such agony 
 that occasionally her screams filled every 
 heart with terror and anguish. These frightful 
 attacks of pain subsided after a time, and my 
 father and mother ventured to indulge the 
 hope that their child might be restored to 
 health. But, alas ! their fond anticipations 
 were soon dashed away. Esther might live, 
 but it must be only as a helpless, crippled 
 invalid ! 
 
 It was a day of bitter grief when this 
 dreadful intelligence was communicated to 
 them by the skilful surgeons who attended the 
 poor girl. 
 
 Esther herself received it with resignation. 
 " I knew it must be so," she said to Martha. 
 " I felt that I should never again rise up and 
 take my place among them all; but how 
 much have I to be thankful for, in beiiiof told
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 13 
 
 that I shall not again be liable to the dreadful 
 agony I formerly suffered. And then I know 
 how I shall 1)0 loved and petted by you all. 
 After a time I shall become reconciled to my 
 fate, and we shall be hapjw and contented as 
 before." 
 
 " Happy and contented as before !" Who 
 that heard Esther utter these words would 
 have imagined that a dark curtain in our 
 home concealed a skeleton which had filled 
 our young hearts with fear and apprehension 
 for the last six years? 
 
 True, the curtain was only occasionally 
 lifted ; and each time it was raised we hoped 
 it would be for the last time. Months had 
 passed since last it had cast a shadow over 
 the tranquillity of our home, and on this 
 morning of my birthday not a foreboding of 
 evil from its presence dimmed the gaiety of 
 our hearts. 
 
 It was with a light step and liapj)y heart 
 that I followed Martha into the kitchen, to 
 receive my first lesson in the noble scienee of 
 cookery. Provided with a large white a])ron, 
 and with my sleeves pinned back, I obeyed
 
 1 4 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 the directions of my chef in preparing the 
 famous pudding. I carefully weighed spices 
 and measured out wine, while Martha herself 
 beat up the eggs — a task she considered too 
 laborious for me ; and when all the good 
 things, which were to produce so great a 
 whole, were properly mixed and compounded 
 together, I left the kitchen and hastened to 
 my sister's room, to astonish my mother and 
 herself with my wonderful facility in acquiring 
 culinary knowledge. 
 
 Four o'clock arrived at last — the hour at 
 which my father had promised to return to 
 dinner. My brothers had long been home, 
 and, like myself, were waiting impatiently 
 for his ap})earance. I was dressed ready 
 for the evening, and wore my locket round 
 my neck, fastened to a small gold chain 
 my mother had lent me for the purpose. 
 Very seldom did my mother leave home; 
 never in the evening; and she had promised 
 to read some interesting new work to Esther 
 during our absence. 
 
 Walter and Edmund were looking from the 
 window, hoping to see their father approach.
 
 MY ELDEST BROTllEll. 15 
 
 Suddenly, Walter exclaimed, " Here's a cab 
 coming, Nelly — I think it must be papa!" 
 And almost before I could reach the window 
 the veliicle stopped at our door. 
 
 "It is papa!" cried my brothers, and 
 rushed from the room to open the door. I 
 followed, and as I entered the hall saw a 
 stranger descend from the carriage. 
 
 " It is not papa, Walter. Come back di- 
 rectly," cried I. 
 
 " It is, Nell ! " replied he, in a tone of 
 horror. '' Look ! there are two strangers 
 with him, and they are helping him out of 
 the cab. Look ! he cannot walk." 
 
 Oh ! miserable, miserable truth. It was 
 indeed my father, who, supported by the 
 strangers, was being borne into the house, to 
 all appearance incapable of motion. 
 
 They looked inquiringly at me as they 
 entered. I knew they wanted to be told 
 where they were to place their helpless 
 burthen, and I opened the door of the 
 drawing-room and signed to them to enter. 
 I could not sj)eak — I moved like one in a
 
 16 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 dream — but I thought I must not let my 
 mother know of this, or it will kill her. 
 
 " The o^entleman has been seized with a fit 
 in the street," said one of the strangers ; 
 " he was taken to the nearest surgeon's, and 
 he advised his being brought home at once. 
 We discovered his address by some letters in 
 his pocket. You had better send directly for 
 a medical man." 
 
 Walter, who with a face pale with horror 
 had followed me into the room, said, " 1 will 
 run for Mr. Spencer," and instantly left the 
 house. 
 
 During the few minutes he was absent, I 
 could only stand gazing in speechless agony 
 on the beloved parent who laid senseless on 
 the floor of the room. 
 
 When Mr. Spencer arrived he looked greatly 
 shocked at the sight he beheld, and hurriedly 
 asked a few questions of those v/ho had 
 brought my father home, relative to his sudden 
 seizure. They repeated the tale already told 
 to myself. 
 
 ** My poor child," said the kind surgeon, 
 turning to me, *' do you think you can keep
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 17 
 
 your mother out of the way while we take 
 your father up stairs. If she is suddenly 
 apprised of this sad thing I fear the shock 
 might prove fatal to her." 
 
 At these words I seemed at once restored 
 to strength and composure : they were the 
 echo of my own thoughts. I knew it would 
 kill ray mother should she see my father in 
 that state, without preparation for the anguish 
 which awaited her. 
 
 Martha was now in the room, loosing his 
 neckerchief and chafing his death-cold hands, 
 while the tears rolled down her cheeks. ^* Go, 
 Miss Nelly, to your sister's room, and con- 
 trive some way to detain my mistress there. 
 I will do all that can be done for your father, 
 you may safely leave him to me. But don't 
 — pray don't — let your mother or Miss Esther 
 know of this ; it will be the death of both ; 
 keep it from them for a time at least." 
 
 I turned to leave the room, but before I 
 quitted it, said to Mr. Spencer, ^' Will ho 
 live ? " 
 
 "T cannot say," was the answer; '* all 
 that human skill can do for him sliall bo
 
 18 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 tried. It is an attack of paralysis, and I 
 greatly fear the result. But go to your 
 
 mother. I will send at once for Dr. H , 
 
 and when he has given his opinion then she 
 must know of this terrible calamity. Keep 
 her in ignorance of it till then if possible." 
 
 I kissed my father's forehead, and left the 
 room. My brothers were waiting for me 
 outside the door, weeping bitterly. 
 
 " Oh ! Nelly, Nelly, will papa die ? " sobbed 
 Walter. 
 
 " God knows, dear. Pray to Him to help 
 us in this dark hour. Go to your room and 
 keep quiet till I come to you." 
 
 The poor children obeyed me directly ; and 
 I, with a smile on my face and a heart aching 
 with misery, entered Esther's room. 
 
 " I have been wanting you some minutes, 
 Nelly," said my mother, holding up the work 
 on which she had been engaged. " Come 
 and let me see w4iether this will look pretty 
 in your hair. Kneel down and I will fasten 
 it on." 
 
 I did as she requested. '' No, Nelly," 
 said she, after she had altered the arrange-
 
 MY ELDEST BUOTIIKll. 19 
 
 ment of the ribbons two or three times, " it 
 won't do ; you look better without it; and so 
 I am sure papa will think. \\\it is it not 
 time he was home, dear ? You will be late 
 in arrivini^ at the theatre if he is not here 
 shortly." 
 
 ** The very apprehension of such a terrible 
 catastrophe has made Nelly look pale," said 
 Esther. " But cheer up, dear, papa will eat 
 his dinner all the more quickly for being 
 behind his time. I know he will not sutler 
 you to lose a single word of either of the 
 three pieces you are to be delighted with to- 
 night." 
 
 I have suftered much mental agony, I 
 have gone through many dreadful scenes 
 since that day, but anything like the misery 
 I then endured I never experienced after. 
 
 I sat quietly in the room. I heard the 
 light jesting of my sister, and answered with 
 composure the questions of my mother, and 
 nothing of the agony I felt was visible in 
 voice or look. One thought was always in 
 my mind, " I shall have to tell them that my 
 father is dead, and then they, too, will <lio."
 
 20 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 Presently Martha came to the door. " Miss 
 IN'ellj, will you come and see to your 
 pudding? " 
 
 " Oh ! that is the cause of your silence, is 
 it, Nelly? " said my sister. '' Your thoughts 
 are in the saucepan with your pudding. You 
 are fearful it will not turn out well, and that 
 you will be disgraced for ever in the eyes of 
 Martha by your failure." 
 
 I w^alked leisurely to the door, and closed 
 it softly behind me. Martha was waiting on 
 the landing. 
 
 '' You must go and speak to Mr. Spencer," 
 she whispered ; " he says he must go for a 
 short time, but wishes to see you before he 
 leaves." 
 
 I followed her to the room into which my 
 father had been carried. He was placed in 
 bed, and was as insensible as when I had left 
 him. I needed not to ask Mr. Spencer a 
 single question. I knew that no change had 
 taken place during my absence. 
 
 " I must leave you," said he, " and go 
 
 myself in search of Dr. H ; every moment 
 
 is of value; and I will return with him as
 
 MV i:li)i:st ukotiilk. '21 
 
 quickly as possible. In the interim no- 
 thing can be done. I sent for you to n^ive 
 you this paper ; it was tightly grasped in 
 your father's hand, and I had considerable 
 ditiiculty in removing it. The persons who 
 brought him home informed me he was 
 readinir it at the moment he fell." 
 
 I took the letter — for such it ai)peare(l to 
 be — and was about to place it on the table, 
 but as my eye glanced at it, I observed, with 
 a shudder, that the writing was well known 
 to me. 
 
 Yes; the family skeleton was again un- 
 covered, and the sight of it had killed my 
 father I
 
 22 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 I LEFT my father's room with the paper in 
 my hand, and as soon as I reached my own, 
 prepared to read it. 
 
 It was from my wretched brother, from my 
 mother's eldest born ; who, from the time he 
 was twelve years old to the present hour, 
 when he was two-and-twenty, had been the 
 plague-sore of our home. Liar and thief 
 from his early boyhood, every means had been 
 tried for his reformation but without effect. 
 
 Wherever he had been placed he had dis- 
 graced himself and dishonoured his father's 
 name ; for weeks at a time he would disappear 
 from his family, and leave no trace of his 
 whereabouts ; then, when my father had used 
 every means to discover his lurking-place in
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 23 
 
 vain, he would suddenly write from some 
 haunt of infamy, and say that he was ill, 
 dying, surrounded by wretches who had 
 robbed him of all that he possessed, even 
 to the clothes in which he had entered their 
 den of vice. 
 
 Then would my poor father go to the place 
 from whence the letter of the wretched boy 
 was dated, and rescue him from the miseries 
 he was enduring. 
 
 Nursed back into health and strength, 
 clothed, and, as his parents fondly ventured 
 to hope, in his right mind, he was once 
 more treated as a son, no mention ever made 
 of his past transgressions, and he was allowed 
 to take his place again in the family circle. 
 
 For a time he would behave respectfully to 
 my father, be affectionately attached to his 
 mother and young brothers and sisters ; and 
 then, when confidence was placed in him, he 
 would abuse it as before, and once again did 
 the sight of my father's indignation, and my 
 mother's tears, fill our young hearts with 
 sorrow, and cause us to think with anger and 
 dread of him who so frequently darkened the
 
 24 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 sunshine of our home by his base and 
 miserable selfishness. 
 
 At last the climax of his misconduct ap- 
 peared passed. He had absented himself for 
 a longer time than usual ; when one night a 
 loud knocking at the street door roused every 
 one from sleep. It was a policeman ; who 
 answered my father, when he inquired the 
 reason of the disturbance : a man, apparently 
 dying, extended on the door steps, had feebly 
 entreated him to procure him admittance into 
 the house — his home, as he stated. 
 
 No doubt crossed my father's mind as to 
 the identity of the wretched object who was 
 carried into his house in the dead of night. 
 
 Taken at once to his own room — always 
 kept in readiness for him — and a surgeon 
 sent for, it was discovered that he had received 
 two severe wounds in his side, which had, 
 apparently, recently been inflicted with a 
 common table knife. 
 
 How he came to his home in that state 
 and at that hour was never known. For 
 weeks he laid liovering on the very verge of 
 death ; and when at length' his intellect was
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 25 
 
 clear enough to understand the questions put 
 to him on these points, his only answer was a 
 shudder of horror and a passionate entreaty 
 that his last ahsence from home might never 
 he mentioned, or the manner in which he 
 returned to it. 
 
 The lesson had been terrible, but it ap- 
 peared effective. 
 
 For nearly two years he remained with us 
 quiet, humble, and penitent. The remem- 
 brance of his errors appeared blotted from 
 the memory of all, and he was once more 
 trusted and beloved. 
 
 Still something must be done for his future 
 welfare — some employment be found for him. 
 
 A friend of my father's — a merchant in 
 Liverpool — offered to receive him into his 
 counting-house, providing that my father and 
 some other responsible person would become 
 sureties for his integrity in rather a con- 
 siderable sum of money. 
 
 I remember the grave conversations which 
 took place between my parents on this point, 
 and that my father said " I will myself take 
 all the responsibility, and trust to Henry's 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 26 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 promises of future good conduct ; but I will 
 not suffer a friend to run the risk of being 
 injured by the misconduct of a son of mine." 
 
 That, however, would not satisfy Mr. 
 Rivers — he must " have his bond " ! 
 
 Let my father provide the proper securities, 
 and there was the place for his son. And it 
 was one which, if he conducted himself pro- 
 perly, would eventually lead to wealth and 
 honour. 
 
 My mother earnestly advised my father to 
 accept the offer made him by his oldest and 
 dearest friend, and allow him to join in giving 
 Mr. Rivers the required security. 
 
 Mr. Lancaster well knew that Henry had 
 been wild and imprudent, though he was 
 ignorant of the full extent of his misconduct, 
 and from friendship for my father was willing 
 to risk something for the welfare of his erring 
 son. 
 
 " Accept this generous offer, George," said 
 my mother. " I know Henry's character 
 better than you do ; he has been, as you say, 
 a thief, but he is likewise a coward, and will 
 not rob where detection will be followed by
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 27 
 
 punishment. He has hitherto confined his 
 depredations to his own family, and should 
 he — which God in his mercy forbid — again 
 fall back into crime, it is his own family on 
 whom it will be committed." 
 
 Persuaded against his own conviction to 
 allow his friend to join him in giving Mr. 
 Rivers the security, my father accompanied 
 his son to Liverpool, and returned thankful 
 for the safe refu^i^e he had found for him. 
 
 The duties Henry had to discharge were 
 not laborious ; they did not require more 
 hours at the desk than was consistent with 
 the preservation of his health, and for a hand- 
 some sum, to be paid yearly by my father, 
 he was to reside in the family of Mr. Children, 
 the head clerk of Mr. Rivers. 
 
 We heard frequently from Henry for several 
 months after his departure from home. He 
 said he was happy, that his duties were light 
 and pleasant, and that he was treated by Mr. 
 and Mrs. Children as kindly as if he were 
 their own son. 
 
 " Don't fear, dearest mother," wrote he, 
 " that I shall ever again disgrace you, r.nd 
 
 C2
 
 28 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 pollute my own soul by falling back into the 
 slough of infamy into which I formerly allowed 
 myself to sink. Thank God ! my eyes have 
 been opened to the depths of my iniquities, 
 and His own merciful forbearance towards 
 me ; like the forgiving father in the parable, 
 you may say, ' This my son was dead, and is 
 alive again, was lost and is found." ' 
 
 Mr. Rivers, too, rejoiced our hearts by 
 occasionally writing to my father in praise of 
 his son's steady attention to business and 
 general correct conduct. 
 
 This pleasant state of things had continued 
 for nearly twelve months, and though latterly 
 we had not so frequently heard from Henry, 
 no apprehension of evil saddened the hearts of 
 any of his family. On the morning of this 
 fatal day, my father had said, just as he was 
 leaving the house, ** I dare say I shall find a 
 letter from Henry at the Bank ;" and so he 
 had — the letter I now held in my hand. 
 
 I have heard that to drowning men the 
 whole of their past existence is shown to 
 them in a moment of time ; so it was with 
 me as regarded the misdeeds of my brother ;
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 29 
 
 every evil lie hud cominitteil, every misery 
 he had inflicted, arose vividly before my 
 mental vision — and though I had not read 
 a line of the letter, which had been taken 
 from my father's grasp, I knew that it con- 
 tained evidence of fresh crimes perpetrated 
 by the son so tenderly beloved, so frequently 
 forgiven. 
 
 " Help me once more, my father ! I have 
 again been assailed by temptation, and again 
 fallen, and I shall stand as a felon at the bar 
 of justice if you do not extricate me at once 
 from the perils which surround me. I have 
 s[»ent money on myself which was entrusted 
 to me in the way of business, and in the hope 
 of replacing it, I have passed nights at the 
 gambling- table, and each night left it more 
 deeply involved in difiiculties. Last week I 
 had to render an account of the various sums 
 1 had received. To avoid present detection, 
 I obtained money on a bill — suflicient to 
 cover my deficiencies — to that bill I forged 
 the name of Mr. Rivers. On Saturday — three 
 days only from the one on which I am writing
 
 30 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 — this must be discovered. Send me, im- 
 mediately, three hundred pounds, or your 
 
 wretched son is lost for ever. 
 
 " H. T. 
 
 " P. S. — I need not remind you that in the 
 event of my defalcations becoming known, 
 not only yourself, but Mr. Lancaster, will 
 suffer heavy loss. So if not for my sake, for 
 your own and his, send the money I require 
 directly.'* 
 
 Was it to be wondered at, that the strong 
 man fell, stricken to the earth while reading 
 this letter from his base and miserable son ? 
 
 I knew and felt that, much as the letter 
 itself must have shocked the poor father, it 
 was the inconceivable baseness of the post- 
 script which had driven the shaft into his 
 heart. That placed in the perilous condition 
 of a forger, liable each moment to detection, 
 he could calmly endeavour to extort money 
 from his father by threats of the injury he 
 could inflict on the friend who had so nobly 
 pledged himself for his honour, must, I felt.
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. H 
 
 have filled the cup of anguish oiFered hy his 
 degraded child. 
 
 The bitter grief for my father's illness 
 seemed lost in the indignation which filled 
 my heart against my brother. 
 
 I felt that my father must die, that my 
 mother, Esther, and my young brothers would 
 have no friend or adviser but myself, and for 
 their sakes I resolved to harden ray heart 
 against the miseries I foresaw. 
 
 Should my father's murderer dare to intrude 
 into the home he had desecrated, I myself 
 would denounce him to the employers he had 
 wrou'^ed. All these sad and bitter feelinirs 
 passed, as I have said, through my mind in a 
 short time. 
 
 When I had read the letter twice throu^fh, 
 every word it contained seemed burnt into my 
 memory. I shall never want it more, 1 
 thought, and was about to destroy it, when I 
 suddenly remembered I ought to show it Mr. 
 Lancester, as it deeply concerned his interests, 
 >o I placed it in my bosom for present security, 
 and then returned to my father's room. 
 
 He had never moved from the niumcnt he
 
 S2 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 was placed on the bed, and it was difficult 
 for Martha to induce me to believe he still 
 breathed. 
 
 " Oh! Miss Nelly," said that faithful friend, 
 " what will become of your mother and Miss 
 Esther, if this great evil falls upon them ?" 
 
 " I will take care of them," said T, in a 
 quiet, composed voice. 
 
 " You, poor child ! What can you do ?" 
 
 "All that can be done, dear Martha. I 
 feel that God has given me a heavy charge, 
 and I will pray for strength to bear it. Dry 
 your tears, dear friend, we have to think of 
 others, not of ourselves. We must bury our 
 grief in our own hearts, while we strive to 
 pour consolation and hope into those of 
 others." 
 
 At this moment, a low knock at the street 
 door was followed quickly by footsteps on the 
 
 stairs, and Mr. Spencer and Dr. H 
 
 entered the room. 
 
 " You must leave us, poor child," said the 
 former, as soon as he had asked if any altera- 
 tion had taken place in the patient, and he 
 quietly led me to the door.
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 33 
 
 ** Let me remain," said I, imploringly. '' I 
 may be of some use — and I will neither speak 
 nor niovo, unless you reciuire me to do so." 
 
 " No !" said he, firmly ; " I will see you 
 down-stairs, but now you must go." 
 
 It was a long time before they entered tiie 
 room where, with a throbbing heart, I was 
 waiting to hear the sentence of life or deatli 
 l)asse(l on my beloved father. 
 
 " My dear little girl," said Dr. II , 
 
 kindly, " have you no friend who will come 
 to you in this sad emergency ? You are too 
 young to have the care and responsibility of 
 the whole family on your head — and Mr. 
 Spencer has explained to me the })recarious 
 state of health both of your mother and 
 sister." 
 
 " No !" replied I ; " we have no friend 
 whom my mother would like to have with us 
 at such a time as this. But tell me of my 
 father! Oh! sir, can you save him to us?" 
 lie looked at me compassionately, but did not 
 speak. " Let me know the truth," crie<l I ; 
 " it will be best for me — it will be better for 
 us all — that I should know it." 
 
 C 5
 
 34 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 " You may trust her," said Mr. Spencer. 
 " She has great power of endurance when 
 suffering bodily pain, and I think she will not 
 prove deficient in courage when called on to 
 bear the still more terrible agony of such a 
 trial as this." 
 
 Tenderly did then the kind physician com- 
 municate to me the dreadful intelligence, that 
 he had no hopes of my father's recovery, that 
 the shock had been so severe he feared he 
 could never rally from the state of insensibility 
 in which he still laid. Still, certain remedies 
 were to be tried, and it was possible they 
 might prove effective. 
 
 ^'Martha appears perfectly competent to 
 the task of nursing your father," said Mr. 
 Spencer, " but you will require another person 
 to aid her ; she will not be able to remain in 
 the room during the night. I will send a 
 nurse from the hospital." 
 
 I earnestly entreated him not to do so. I 
 knew my mother's horror of hired nurses, and 
 that she would not be prevented from herself 
 attending to my father when acquainted with 
 the state in which he was. ,
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 35 
 
 The time had arrived when it must be com- 
 municated to her. 
 
 I would not accept the offer which Mr. 
 Spencer made, of himself acquainting her with 
 the calamity which had befallen her. I was 
 to be the consoler of her sorrow, her helper 
 in this great trouble, and no one but myself 
 must witness the agony with which the know- 
 ledge of it would be received. 
 
 ** It shall be as you wish, then," said Mr. 
 Spencer ; " but I will remain till you have 
 executed your painful duty. I fear the shock 
 may prove injurious to your mother, and 
 should you require my assistance, I will hasten 
 to you at once." 
 
 No apprehension had crossed my mind that 
 my mother might suddenly appear amongst 
 us. Esther was never left alone even for five 
 minutes, and till Martha or myself relieved 
 her, I was certain she would remain patiently 
 with my sister. 
 
 As I entered the room this time, my face 
 must have betrayed that 1 had evil tidings to 
 impart. My mother looked up as I opened
 
 36 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 the door, and with a quiet gesture of her 
 hand prevented my advancing towards her. 
 
 " I will come this instant, Nelly," said 
 she. " Esther, darling, Martha shall be with 
 you immediately." 
 
 She followed me directly from the room, 
 and as she opened the door, whispered, 
 " Don't let Esther know of it — something 
 terrible has occurred, I know — come into my 
 room, and let me hear what it is." 
 
 I was astonished at the calmness with which 
 she spoke, and ventured to hope she might 
 bear the tidings with more fortitude than I 
 had dared anticipate. I followed her to her 
 room in silence. The moment I had closed 
 the door, she said, 
 
 "Now, Nelly, tell me your errand. I can 
 guess it is some evil connected with my son." 
 My mother was always excessively pale. It 
 was not possible for any illness or emotion to 
 render her more colourless than she habitually 
 was, but now the pure white of her complexion 
 was changed to ashey gray, as in a hoarse 
 whisper she said, " tell me the truth at once 
 — is he dead ?"
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 37 
 
 I was SO alariiiod at her awful appearance, 
 and the stern composure with which slie waited 
 for my answer, that it was ahnost a relief to 
 me to reply, ** No, mother! Dearest mother! 
 Henry is not dead — I do not know that he 
 is ill." 
 
 Not a suspicion of the truth crossed the 
 mind of my poor mother. Trouble and mis- 
 fortune were associated in her mind with 
 Henry alone, and of him only did she now 
 think. 
 
 " It is my father, mother — my dear, dear 
 father !" — and as I proceeded, all my boasted 
 fortitude forsook me, and I, who had imagined 
 I possessed the power of wholly controlling 
 my own feelings, and that I couhl soothe the 
 anguish of others, burst into an agony of 
 sorrow at the very moment of all others when 
 I ought to have preserved my composure. 
 
 I do not know — I never can remember — 
 how at Last my mother comprehended the full 
 extent of her misery. 1 know that for some 
 time she lay extended on tlie Hoor of the 
 room, and that I rushed frantically for .Mr. 
 Spencer.
 
 38 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 When restored to consciousness, no per- 
 suasions could induce her to remain out of 
 ray father's room. 
 
 " I shall have strength given me to perform 
 my duty, do not fear," said she, in answer to 
 Mr. Spencer's remonstrances. " While my 
 husband lives, I do not quit him. Go, Nelly, 
 to you I commit the charge of Esther and 
 your brothers. Try, my child, to subdue 
 your emotion, that you may support and com- 
 fort them under this heavy affliction."
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 39 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 I PERFORMED the duties my mother had com- 
 mitted to me — I attended to my helpless 
 sister, and to the comfort of my young 
 brothers — and then, when they went to rest, 
 I sat quiet for some time, while I endeavoured 
 to reflect on the steps I ought to take relative 
 to the letter of my unhappy brother. I had 
 no right to keep Mr. Lancester in ignorance 
 of his guilt. 
 
 The immediate payment of the sum he had 
 demanded might prevent that gentleman from 
 incurring a heavy loss. 
 
 How ought I to act ? Should I enclose the 
 fatal letter to him, and leave to his own dis- 
 cretion what steps he considered best to take. 
 No ! I could not suffer that evidence of
 
 40 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 Henry's unwortliiness to pass out of my hands. 
 I would send to Mr. Laucester, and entreat 
 him to come to me at once. 
 
 Impatiently did I wait the return of my 
 messenger. Mr. Lancester's house was not 
 very far distant from our own, and almost 
 before I expected a reply I was told he was 
 in the drawing-room. 
 
 He was greatly shocked when informed of 
 my father's illness — how bitter was the task 
 of telling him it was occasioned by his son's 
 profligacy. I gave him the letter, and told 
 him how it was removed from the insensible 
 hand of my father. 
 
 Dreadfully was this kind friend grieved 
 with its contents. I don't think one thouofht 
 of his own possible heavy loss crossed his 
 mind. It was wdiolly filled with commisera- 
 tion for our unhappy fate. 
 
 " Does your mother know of this letter ?" 
 inquired he. 
 
 " No ; she is ignorant of the event which 
 has given the death-blow to my father." 
 
 " Then never let her become acquainted 
 with it. I will start for Liverpool, and see this
 
 MY ELDEST BROTUER. 41 
 
 unworthy son of an honourable father. I will 
 write and tell you all I can learn respecting 
 him, if I do not return myself as soon as a 
 letter would reach you. God bless and pre- 
 serve you, Nelly ! trust implicity to His love 
 and mercy for strength to sustain you in this 
 bitter trial." 
 
 Somewhat relieved by the discharge of this 
 painful duty, and by the kindness of Mr. 
 Lancester, I returned to my father's room. 
 There all remained the same. My mother 
 sat motionless as a statue by the side of the 
 bed. But, oh ! the expression of hopeless 
 misery with which she regarded me as I crept 
 to her side. 
 
 Through the long, long hours of night, did 
 we together watch by the beloved father and 
 husband, who, unconscious of our presence, 
 lay still as death before us. All the more 
 wretched was that night's watching from the 
 absence of all the usual occupation of a sick 
 room. We could do nothing but sit and look 
 on the beloved face — there were no medicines 
 to be administered, no nourishments to be 
 prepared.
 
 42 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 Who that has passed a night by the sick- 
 bed of one dearly beloved, does not remember 
 the keen agony with which the first dawn of 
 day is beheld — that cold, gray light, which 
 gradually extinguishing the one burnt in the 
 chamber, seems to throw additional gloom 
 over every object it reveals — the expiring 
 lamp, the neglected grate, the table strewn 
 with the various articles required during the 
 weary and painful watch, the pale faces and 
 shivering forms of the watchers, and the pe- 
 culiarly ghastly hue it imparts to the face of 
 the sick person — all appear to stamp the 
 reality of misery more distinctly on the heart 
 — ^and as the sun mounts higher and higher, 
 till its beams pierce through the curtained 
 windows of the room, it is with feelings of 
 bitter sadness we endeavour to exclude its 
 admission, as if it shone in mockery of our 
 own wretchedness. 
 
 The day wore on, and brought no mitiga- 
 tion of our misery. Esther had insisted on 
 being told all the circumstances concerning 
 her father's illness, and bore the knowledofe 
 better than I could have expected. I had
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 43 
 
 dreaded to impart the sad truth to her, for I 
 feared the emotion it would occasion might 
 bring on a return of the frightful spasmodic 
 cramps from which she formerly suffered. 
 
 But I did not know her brave heart ; she 
 had been so long out of our working-day 
 world, so carefully guarded from any of the 
 petty troubles of our daily life, that I was 
 surprised to find a woman's thoughts and 
 feelings had imperceptibly replaced those of a 
 child. 
 
 She was three years older than myself, but 
 ever since her accident I had appeared to take 
 the elder sister's place. She was considered 
 apart from the rest — one to be loved and 
 prized by all, but not to participate in the 
 troubles and anxieties which midit cross our 
 
 o 
 
 paths. 
 
 I would have kept from her, if possible, 
 the knowledge of Henry's misconduct, but 
 she would know all, and I was compelled to 
 show her the letter which had given the 
 death-blow to my father. I told her what I 
 had done respecting it, and of the kindness 
 which Mr. Lancester had shown towards us.
 
 44 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 " Dear Nelly," said she, when my tale was 
 ended, '' you have done all things rightly ; 
 but you must not forget that I am older than 
 yourself, and though I am a helpless cripple, 
 giving much trouble where I would thankfully 
 give aid, yet I can reason and act in some 
 things, perhaps, more wisely than yourself. 
 Let me see Mr. Lancester when he returns, 
 and let us together hear the results of his 
 interview with Henry. But surely, Nelly," 
 added she, " my mother has asked for him 
 ere this ?" 
 
 " Thank God, Esther, she has not men- 
 tioned his name ! How dreadful it would be 
 to tell her he is the origin of all our sorrow !" 
 
 " And in order that she may have no sus- 
 picion of it, he must be sent for at once, if, 
 indeed, he does not return with Mr. Lan- 
 cester." 
 
 I looked at my sister in astonishment ; no 
 thought of Henry again residing in the home 
 into which he had brought such desolation 
 ever crossed my thoughts, and it was in a 
 tone of indignation I replied, ''Esther, would
 
 MV ELDEST BROTHER. 45 
 
 you see our niotlier receive with affection the 
 murderer of our father?" 
 
 " Dear Nelly, yes. I would give her all 
 the consolation she is capable of receiving. 
 Let the knowledge of Henry's crime be con- 
 fined to our own bosoms ; Mr. Lancester will 
 not betray it, and the dreadful consequences 
 it has produced may perhaps be the means of 
 bringing him to repentance.'' 
 
 I with difficulty repressed the bitter words 
 which arose to my lips as I listened to my 
 sister. I believed that what Henry had 
 always been he would continue to the end. 
 I limited the power of God's mercy, and did 
 not remember that those who were called at 
 the eleventh hour received the same payment 
 as those who had laboured from the first. 
 
 Late in the evening Mr. Lancester returned. 
 He had seen my brother, and told him of the 
 effects produced by his cruel letter. At first 
 he was incredulous, and believed that Mr. 
 Lancester wished to frighten him. 
 
 With difiiculty was he convinced of the 
 truth ; and whon he was, his remorse was
 
 46 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 described by our kind friend as something 
 fearful to witness. 
 
 He rolled on the ground in convulsive 
 agony, and declared he could never more look 
 in the face of his mother. 
 
 After a while this tempest of reproach 
 abated, and then it appeared, from his com- 
 munications to our friend, that he was not 
 even placed in the fearful predicament he had 
 represented in his letter. 
 
 He had not committed forgery ; he had 
 spent some money entrusted to him, but not 
 to a quarter of the amount he had represented, 
 although, to extort that sum from his father's 
 fears, he had written that wicked letter. 
 
 More fiercely than ever did my anger burn 
 against him. " I ought to have known it ! " I 
 exclaimed, when Mr. Lancester had ended his 
 narrative. I ought to have remembered the 
 words I once heard my mother use : 
 
 ** He is too much a coward to rob any but 
 his own family ! " 
 
 "Why, Ellen," said Mr. Lancester, in a 
 suq3rised tone, " are you sorry your brother 
 has not committed a felony?"
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 4/ 
 
 ** Not committed a felony ? " replied I, 
 passionately. " Is not murder a crime ? And 
 has he not been guilty of that ? " 
 
 " Nelly, you must control your vehemence, 
 for the sake of others,'* said Esther. 
 " Henry's conduct admits of no palliation ; 
 but we are his sisters, and must be thankful 
 he is not so guilty as we feared." 
 
 " Where is he ? " inquired she of Mr. 
 Lancester. 
 
 " At my house." 
 
 " Dear, kind, generous friend, how shall we 
 ever repay you for such kindness ? " 
 
 " My poor children," was his answer, "I 
 have known and loved your father from the 
 time we were boys, like Walter and Edmund. 
 I will act by his children as I know he would 
 have done by mine, had they been placed in 
 similar circumstances. I think the violence 
 of Henry's grief may prove injurious to your 
 mother, and till she wishes to see him he 
 had better remain with me."
 
 48 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 I CANNOT record the events which marked, 
 day by day, my father's progress towards the 
 grave. He never unclosed his eyes during 
 the six nights and days we watched in hope- 
 less misery beside him. All this time my 
 mother never left him. 
 
 But when the semblance of death was 
 changed for the reality, she kissed the dead 
 face she had loved so fondly, and suffered 
 Martha to lead her from the room, without 
 speaking one word or shedding one tear ! 
 
 It was different with myself. I beheld 
 death for the first time, but it had no terrors 
 for me : living or dead, how could I feel fear 
 from the presence of my father ? 
 
 I kissed with passionate love his face and
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 49 
 
 hands. I called frantically on his name, and 
 implored him to look once more on his be- 
 reaved and miserable child. I was for the 
 time mad with the dreadful sense of my deso- 
 lation, and desecrated that awful chamber 
 with my impious ravings. I know not how 
 long I remained alone. It was Mr. Spencer 
 who first entered the room and raised me 
 from the bed. 
 
 " You must come with me," said he, gently, 
 but firmly. " Ellen, you must learn to control 
 your feelings. Your mother, I fear, will be 
 for some time wholly incapable of attending 
 to her family. Your helpless sister and young 
 brothers have only you to look to for aid in 
 this time of trouble. Will you selfishly in- 
 dulge your own grief, instead of endeavouring 
 to alleviate theirs? Show how you loved 
 your father by the manner in which you dis- 
 charge the duties entailed on you by his 
 death. Go to your mother, and try to rouse 
 her from tlie dreadful state of apathy into 
 which she has fallen." 
 
 Ashamed of the selfish forgetfnlncss of my 
 duty, I followed Mr. Spencer from the room. 
 
 VOL. L D
 
 50 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 I found my mother seated on a chair by 
 the window; she had neither spoken nor 
 moved since Martha had placed her there. 
 She gazed at me, as I entered, with a troubled 
 look — as if endeavouring to recall to her re- 
 collection who I was. 
 
 " Dearest mother," said I, " will you come 
 with me to poor Esther's room ? she wants 
 you to comfort her in this dark hour." 
 
 " Thank you," she replied, '' I will go by 
 and by; when he revives. Now it is my 
 duty to be here." 
 
 *' Oh, Mr. Spencer ! " cried I, '' can you 
 do nothing to restore her to conscious- 
 ness ? " 
 
 *' It is better for her as it is," he answered. 
 *^ I will send a sleeping draught, which 
 you must persuade her to swallow. The 
 strain on the nervous system has been so 
 great, that I fear if she does not procure 
 rest her brain may become permanently 
 injured ; and that, Ellen, will be a greater 
 calamity than the death of your father ; but 
 go to your sister, and leave Martha to attend 
 to her mistress."
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 51 
 
 Before I left my mother, I implored her to 
 Sj3eak to me. She answered in the same calm 
 tone, '^ When he revives I will do as you wish, 
 now it is ray duty to be here." 
 
 As I opened the door of Esther's room, I 
 tliouo-ht in my heart, was there ever sorrow 
 like my sorrow ? My father dead — my 
 mother bereft of reason — my sister a help- 
 less cripple — my brother a miserable outcast 
 — my younger ones with no one but such a 
 feeble guide as myself to look to for help and 
 consolation ! 
 
 Esther was still in bed : owing to the 
 troubles and duties of that dreadful morning, 
 Martha had been unable to give her customary 
 attendance to the poor girl. Walter and 
 Edmund were with her, and as I entered she 
 was reading to them from the Bible. They 
 were blessed words I heard, as I approached 
 the bed. The poor children had evidently 
 been weeping bitterly, but strove hard to 
 hush their sobs, as their sister, in a low, 
 faltering voice, read to them from the holy 
 volume. 
 
 Whon she closed tlio book, Ivhnund's teais 
 
 1) 'J 

 
 52 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 again burst forth, and he cried, '' Oh, Nelly ! 
 why did papa die and leave us all ? What 
 shall we do without him ? What shall 
 we do?" 
 
 He wrung his hands in passionate excite- 
 ment as he spoke; and I, fearful his violent 
 emotion would agitate Esther, endeavoured to 
 calm him, by telling him that his father was 
 now in Heaven, that God ordered all things 
 aright, and that it was wicked of him to 
 murmur or repine. 
 
 Alas ! when did such attempts at conso- 
 lation succeed in alleviating the violence of 
 natural mef^. I should have derived no 
 comfort from them had they been addressed 
 to myself; and how could I hope to impress 
 my brothers with words that would have 
 fallen lifeless on my own ear ? 
 
 But Esther acted differently, and soothed 
 the grief felt for the loss of one parent by 
 reminding him of the love and duty he 
 owed the other. "You would not do any- 
 thing which might distress or injure our 
 mother. Go down, dear< boy, with Walter,
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 53 
 
 and remain quiet till Nelly or Martha can 
 come to you." 
 
 Walter's sorrow was not so demonstrative 
 as his brother's, but I felt sure he suffered 
 more from not giving it expression. 
 
 Since I had been in Esther's room, I had 
 internally been accusing her of insensibility 
 to the heavy affliction we had just sustained. 
 
 I did not, in my selfishness, reflect how 
 much more she must be suffering, for re- 
 pressing all outward expressions of her 
 feelings, while endeavouring to comfort her 
 brothers. 
 
 But as soon as we were alone the pent-uj) 
 agony burst forth, and, with a bitter cry, she 
 threw her arms around my neck, and said, 
 *' Oh ! Nelly you had the blessed privilege of 
 being with him to the last. I would gladly 
 — oh, how gladly ! — have given all the re- 
 mainder of my Avretched, useless existence, to 
 have spent the last six days as you have spent 
 them ! Oh ! ray father, my father ! that I 
 could see your face once more!" 
 
 I was frightened by her violence, and en- 
 deavoured in vain to calm her. " Dearest
 
 54 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 Esther, for my sake — for my mother's sake — 
 strive to calm yourself. What would she do 
 if you, too, were taken from her!" 
 
 " Bear with me for a little time, Nelly — I 
 will try and bury my grief in my own heart ; 
 but I felt as if it must' burst with the weight 
 of my wretchedness ! Now we must both 
 remember how much we have to do for 
 others. You must commence fresh duties at 
 once, and take Martha's place in assisting the 
 poor cripple." 
 
 I did all I could to aid my sister, but I 
 was an awkward substitute for her kind and 
 practised nurse. When, by bringing the sofa 
 to the side of the bed, I managed to place 
 her on it, she thanked me with kind and 
 loving words for the help I had given her. 
 Then followed a long and important con- 
 versation. 
 
 We had but few friends, and but one re- 
 lative in the world — a maiden sister of my 
 father's, many years older than himself : she 
 had lived with her brother previous to his 
 marriage, and chose to consider herself ill-
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 55 
 
 treated when he brought a more le^jitimate 
 mistress to his house. 
 
 " Ought we to write to Miss Travers " — 
 we never spoke of her as aunt — " and entreat 
 her to come to our assistance ? " 
 
 Esther decided it would be rif^ht to do so ; 
 and wrote by that night's post to Cliftoi), 
 where she resided, acquainting her with the 
 particulars of my father's death, and my 
 mother's incapacity of attending to her family. 
 To that letter we never received a reply. 
 
 In the evening, Mr. Lancester brought 
 Henry home. I could not suppress a shudder 
 of horror as he stooped over Esther's coucli 
 to caress her. He looked at me with an 
 expression, half of shame, half of defiance, 
 as I drew back when he advanced towards me. 
 
 The remorse of which Mr. Lancester had 
 spoken had not lasted long. It was quite 
 evident from his manner that he had ceased 
 to consider himself the cause of his father's 
 death. After he had demanded to see his 
 mother, and I told him it was impossible he 
 could do so, he muttered something about not
 
 56 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 being wanted there, and suddenly quitted the 
 room. 
 
 Mr. Lancester was surprised at his be- 
 haviour. He had completely imposed on him 
 by the violence of his grief, when first ac- 
 quainted with the effects produced by his 
 letter. 
 
 But Henry always had the comfortable 
 faculty of throwing off any feeling of com- 
 punction which occasionally visited him ; and 
 I had no doubt by this time he had com- 
 pletely absolved himself from blame.
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. .57 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Of the week which followed my father's 
 death I will not write. Who is so fortunate 
 as not to know, by bitter experience, tlie 
 miseries of such a period : the darkened 
 Iiouse, the stealthy footsteps, the whisperin^^ 
 voices, the glimpses occasionally caught of 
 strange men in shabby suits of black, the 
 smothered tread of the same grim attendants 
 in a house of mourning, as they pass the door 
 of the room where you are weeping, carrying 
 with them that weighty thing, which, senseless 
 as it is, sends a cold shudder to the heart as 
 it gives audible tokens of its presence, care- 
 fully as it is taken up the stairs? 
 
 I believe all these things are unknown to 
 the rich and great : that fashion carries the 
 
 D 5
 
 58 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 living from the abode of the dead ; and 
 though they may take sorrow within their 
 hearts, they leave the gloom and outward 
 evidences of its existence to servants and 
 hired mourners. 
 
 We tasted the full bitterness of death ; 
 and when my father was laid in the grave, 
 and light and sound once more admitted 
 within our dwelling, ray heart seemed still 
 more saddened by the contrast they offered to 
 my feelings. 
 
 My mother had only partially recovered 
 from the stupor which had followed my 
 father's death. Long and heavy slumbers 
 rendered her for days unconscious of all that 
 passed around her, and to this cause Mr. 
 Spencer said she was indebted for the re- 
 covery of her reason. 
 
 It was not till the evening following the 
 funeral that she recognised those about her, 
 and even then she did not appear to remember 
 the events which had occasioned her illness. 
 
 Long and miserable were the days that 
 followed. I had overcome some of my 
 repugnance to the presence of Henry, and
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 59 
 
 was compelled to a^^ree with Esther that he 
 was of great service to us in taking charge 
 of the boys. He was kind and aifectionate 
 in his manner to all, and appeared to re-iiird 
 liis mother with passionate attachment: and 
 this apparent aflection was a great solace to 
 her, when gradually the recollection of my 
 father's illness and death recurred to her 
 memory. 
 
 How thankful I was this consolation 
 was her's: that she knew nothing of the 
 shave he had in producing the wretchedness 
 he sought so sedulously to soothe. But my 
 own mistrust of him was still too great to be 
 overcome by his i)resent examplary conduct. 
 I felt confident that the time would arrive 
 when fresh sorrows would assail us through 
 liis agency ; and, though I strove hard to 
 forgive him, yet I could never forget that my 
 father was stricken to the earth in the act of 
 ]»orusing his cruel letter. 
 
 Weeks rolled away, and we had gradually 
 returned to our usual mode of life. My 
 young brothers iiad returned to school, and 
 I was anxiously hoping that Henry would
 
 60 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 leave home and resume his duties in the 
 counting house of Mr. Rivers. My mother 
 had become so accustomed to his society, 
 and soothed by the kind caressing manner 
 he adopted towards her, that I for a long time 
 hesitated to remind him of the necessity of 
 his leaving her. 
 
 At length I summoned courage to do so. 
 To the dismay of Esther and myself, he 
 answered, *' He never intended to return to 
 Liverpool. In fact, if he wished to do so, it 
 was no longer in his power ; that some time 
 back Mr. Rivers had written to him, and 
 informed him the situation he had so long 
 neglected was bestowed on another." 
 
 This was a misfortune we had not antici- 
 pated ; the idea of Henry's being always at 
 home idle was dreadful : besides, it was abso- 
 lutely necessary he should endeavour to sup- 
 port himself, as Mr. Lancester had recently 
 informed me the strictest economy would 
 be necessary if we continued to reside in the 
 house we had so many years inhabited. 
 
 My father had been the junior partner in 
 a banking-house in the City, and well knowing
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 61 
 
 how impossible it would be for Henry to 
 succeed him in the firm, he had directed in 
 his will — to which my mother was sole exe- 
 cutrix — that his interest in the business should 
 be disposed of, and the sum it realised, as 
 well as all his other property, he bequeathed 
 absolutely to my mother, who, little accus- 
 tomed to think or act for herself, had en- 
 treated Mr. Lancester to arrange her affairs 
 for her to the best of his judgment. This he 
 cheerfully agreed to, and when everything 
 was settled, he had told her that her income 
 would not exceed eight hundred a year. 
 Within this sum, therefore, it was absolutely 
 necessary we should limit our expenses. 
 
 Since my father's death, my mother had 
 never atttempted to resume her duties as 
 housekeeper. She left everything to my ma- 
 nagement, and very great were the anxieties 
 my stewardship occasioned me, as I was not 
 long in discovering that some retrenchment 
 must be made in the household if I intended 
 to keep the ])romise I had given Mr. Lancester 
 of living within my mother's income. 
 
 From my earliest recollection, we had
 
 62 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 resided in a large old-fashioned house in the 
 neighbourhood of Streatham Common, which 
 my father had inherited, shortly after his mar- 
 riage, from an uncle ; and if we did not keep 
 so many carriages and servants as some of our 
 wealthy neighbours, we possessed all the com- 
 forts and many of the luxuries of life. 
 
 Owing to the habitual ill health of my 
 mother, we had but few friends or acquain- 
 tance ; she was not equal to the fatigue of 
 giving entertainments or of accepting them 
 from others, so that our intercourse with the 
 families in the vicinity was restricted to oc- 
 casional morning calls, and friendly inquiries 
 and hand-shakings when we met in our 
 walks and drives. 
 
 My mother formerly had but one favourite 
 pursuit — her garden : of that she never tired. 
 Whenever the weather would permit, she would 
 occupy herself the greater part of the day 
 in it; and was never so happy, as, when 
 followed by the gardener, carrying his spade 
 or watering-pot, she gave directions for the 
 removal of different plants, or planned alte-
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 63 
 
 rations in the form or situations of her various 
 flower-beds. 
 
 We used, hiughingly, to tell her she could 
 find employment for a dozen gardeners if we 
 could aflord to keep them, in consequence 
 of the continual improvements her taste or 
 fancy suggested. She always managed 
 that her greenhouse should supply flowers 
 through the winter, so that the vase on 
 Esther's table should never be destitute of 
 beautiful blossoms. It was her one sole 
 pleasure, and happy did we feel, as children, 
 when we were enabled to contribute to it, by 
 the present of some rare plant, or in the 
 early Spring a bouquet of flowers from Covent 
 Garden, choicer than those her own green- 
 house would furnish. 
 
 Now, though she had lost all interest in 
 her once-loved occupation, the expense at- 
 tending the garden was as great as ever. 
 Whatever alterations wo resolved on, it was 
 decided by Esther and myself that none must 
 take place there. 
 
 Very long used to be the conversations 
 between us on the important topic ; furnished
 
 64 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 with paper and pencil, I would sit for hours 
 by the side of my sister's sofa, and put down, 
 item by item, the articles we considered 
 absolutely necessary for the supply of the 
 family, and reckon the sum they amounted 
 to ; then we would discover that something 
 must be omitted from the list ; and when we 
 again went over it, were obliged to declare 
 it was impossible to do with less. 
 
 When Mr. Lancester had first informed us 
 of the amount we should receive yearly, I 
 considered the sum much larger than w^e need 
 expend. Our monthly bills appeared very 
 moderate in comparison to the income ; but 
 I had forgotten the large demands that must 
 be made on it for the expenses of my brothers' 
 education : these were little short of two 
 hundred and fifty pounds yearly ; while the 
 servants' wages, including the gardener, were 
 nearly half as much. Then there were heavy 
 bills each Christmas for medical attendance 
 on my mother and sister, and innumerable 
 claims of various descriptions, of which I was 
 ignorant till it became necessary to discharge 
 them.
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 65 
 
 After all our (ieliberations, there was only 
 one mode of retrenchment which we mutually 
 agreed mi^ht be made without inconvenience 
 to my mother. We could very well dispense 
 with the man-servant, and this would, inde- 
 pendent of his wages, materially lessen the 
 household expenditure. Still it was im- 
 possible to carry our scheme of economy 
 into action without consulting our mother; 
 and, reluctant as I was to annoy her with 
 details respecting our domestic perplexities, 
 I was obliged to call her attention to them 
 before I considered myself at liberty to re- 
 move them. 
 
 ** Do as you think best, love," was the 
 answer she gave, when I had explained the 
 plan we had devised for " making both ends 
 meet ! " 
 
 "We must not, of course, spend more 
 than our income. You are very young, 
 Nelly, to have the charge of house and 
 purse — but I have confidence in your pru- 
 dence, and trust them implicitly to your 
 management." 
 
 It was a great comfort to my sister and
 
 66 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 myself when we had arranged this difficult 
 affair ; but I could not refrain from reflecting 
 how much more easy the task would have 
 been if Henry was maintaining himself by 
 his own industry, instead of encroaching 
 considerably on my mother's very moderate 
 resources. 
 
 It was dreadful to see a young man of 
 two-and-twenty, in perfect health, pass his 
 existence in the state of listless idleness that 
 my brother did at this time. He would come 
 down in the morning, hours after the family 
 breakfast was over ; daudle over the one pre- 
 pared for him for more than an hour; and 
 then, if the day was fine, saunter round the 
 garden with his mother for a short time. 
 The remainder of his time he would spend 
 as idly as the morning. He did not seem 
 to possess sufficient energy to care even for 
 his personal appearance, but would most 
 frequently pass the whole day in his morning 
 coat and slippers. 
 
 With all his faults, he possessed one 
 good quality in abundance — he was good- 
 tempered. That is, unless he was thwarted
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 67 
 
 ill some wish which it was absolutely im- 
 possible he could be allowed to gratify with- 
 out great imprudence. 
 
 When we first met in the morning, or 
 parted for the night, his caresses and ex- 
 pressions of afiection would have led a 
 stranger to imagine he was the kindest and 
 most devoted of brothers. It was that 
 manner of his that used to irritate me so 
 much against him. 
 
 " Seeminnr seeminsr ! " I used to exclaim 
 in my heart. I knew, when we separated for 
 the night, that he would not care a straw if 
 we never met again ; yet he would not suffer 
 me to leave him till he had kissed me again 
 and again, and again and again repeated 
 his "God bless you, my darling little Nelly !" 
 
 I often wondered whether he imposed on 
 himself, whether he really believed he cared 
 for the mother, brothers, and sisters, on whom 
 he bestowed such outward demonstrations of 
 aftection ; and I verily believe he did. That 
 is, so long as he was with them he thought he 
 was devoted to them all ; but leave homo for 
 one day, and it was to him only the place
 
 68 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 from which he was to obtain the means of 
 living in idleness and profligacy. 
 
 Unhappy Henry ! your life truly exem- 
 plified the words, " That to be weak is to be 
 miserable." I believe that you formed good 
 resolutions after you had been rescued from 
 the miseries entailed by your own misconduct, 
 but they were overthrown the moment temp- 
 tation to evil assailed vou. 
 
 Esther at this time used to console me for 
 the manner in which his time and energies 
 were wasted, by saying that if at home 
 we should be thankful his presence was 
 a consolation to our mother, and that 
 if he would not contribute to his own main- 
 tenance, by procuring some occupation, it 
 was better he should be idle at home, instead 
 of absent. At least, it was a satisfaction 
 to know he was not passing his time viciously. 
 
 Two years had elapsed since my father's 
 death, and with so little incident to mark 
 their progress, that I often marvelled at the 
 swiftness with which week succeeded week. 
 The only interruption to our monotonous
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 69 
 
 existence Avas the return home of Walter 
 and Edmund for their vacations. 
 
 Poor chihlren ! their holidays were no 
 longer times of pure enjoyment, as formerly. 
 No visits to the theatres in winter; no long 
 walks into the country and games of cricket 
 in the summer. Henry was too indolent to 
 exert himself in any way for their gratification, 
 and my mother's delicate health compelled 
 every one in the house to move quietly and 
 speak softly : great restraints to young, 
 healthy boys, accustomed to the noise and 
 freedom of the school playground. 
 
 My mother had never fully recovered 
 from the illness occasioned by the shock of 
 my father's death : sweet-tempered and pa- 
 tient, she yet never appeared to take an 
 interest in the things passing around her, 
 and though, supported on Henry's arm, she 
 would pass some time daily in the garden, 
 she no lonofer busied herself in its arranire- 
 ment. It was very, very painful to me to 
 witness the listless manner in which she 
 would walk round the spot which formerly 
 furnished her with such cheerful occu|)ation.
 
 70 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 Mr. Spencer, fearful this apathetic state of 
 mind should increase, advised me to try whether 
 a total change of scene might not act bene- 
 ficially on her nerves. 
 
 *'Why not," said he, *' leave this place, 
 and form a home in some quite fresh locality ? 
 Such a course would be likely to rouse her 
 from the state into which she has remained 
 since your father's death better than any 
 other mode I can devise." 
 
 I eagerly caught at this suggestion, nor did 
 I anticipate that she w^ould raise an objection 
 to any plan I might propose. 
 
 One day, therefore, when walking with her 
 in the garden, after having in vain endea- 
 voured to excite her attention by talking of 
 the flowers and plants she used to love so 
 much, I said, " Dear mamma, I believe we 
 are all tired of this place ; suppose we leave 
 it, and try if fresh scenes may not prove 
 beneficial to us all." 
 
 To my surprise and grief, she was more 
 agitated than I had seen her since my 
 father's death. She passionately reproached 
 me for wishing to remove her from the home
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 71 
 
 endeared to lier by so many associations ; and 
 said, that if tired of the monotony of our 
 mode of life, I was at liberty to quit it, 
 and spend my time in any way more con- 
 ti'enial to mv feelino:s. 
 
 " Oh ! Nelly," cried she — while frightened 
 at her vehemence I stood speechless before 
 her — '' why will you not allow me to die in 
 peace ? If you wish to hasten my death, 
 then insist on my quitting the scene of all 
 the happiness I have ever known, of all the 
 comfort I am now capable of receiving. I 
 cannot, and I will not, abandon to strangers 
 the house in which I gave birth to my chil- 
 dren, in which my husband died. Esther and 
 Henry are not tired of it if you are, and they 
 will refuse to join in your cruel scheme 
 for forcing me to leave it." 
 
 I did not attempt to justify myself, by 
 saying it was for her sake only I was anxious 
 to quit the home of my youth. I think we 
 all inherited from her a love of locality, 
 a disinclination for change of any kind, but I 
 had caught with avidity at Mr. Spencer's sug- 
 gestion, in the ho})c of its benefitting her.
 
 72 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 and I had only succeeded in inducing her to 
 believe that it was for my own selfish gratifica- 
 tion I had proposed to remove from Streatham. 
 
 After a few minutes, she resumed her usual 
 gentle and listless manner. 
 
 " Forgive me, Nelly, if I have spoken un- 
 kindly, but you cannot imagine the shock 
 your proposal gave me. I shudder at the 
 bare idea of leaving this place, and going 
 forth into the world from which I have been 
 so long secluded." 
 
 I kissed her with a heart full of contrition 
 for the pain I had unwittingly occasioned 
 her, and from that time Mr. Spencer aban- 
 doned the thought of her removal. 
 
 Shortly after this attempt to induce my 
 mother to leave Streatham, a new source of 
 uneasiness was awakened in my heart. Henry, 
 who, from the time of his father's death, had 
 never cared to leave the house, now began to 
 absent himself from home. At first he would 
 return at reasonable hours in the evening ; 
 but gradually he remained out later and later, 
 and as it was impossible to keep the servants 
 up night after night for the purpose of ad-
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 7S 
 
 mittiii^- him, 1 iisfd to sit in Kstlior's room, 
 waiting: anxiously throiiirh the drcarv hours 
 for tlio sound (jf the opening gate, which tohl 
 me of his arrival. When this welcome noise 
 met my ears, I would steal softly down-stairs, 
 and have the door opened hefore he had time 
 to alarm my mother by the sound of bell or 
 knocker. 
 
 Usually he was good-tempered when he 
 entered, and would thank me for serving him 
 so quickly ; but more than once he was 
 savagely unkind, and accused me of sitting 
 up in order to play the part of a spy on his 
 actions. 
 
 One thing was in Henry's favour, the only 
 one which gave me hopes of his reformation 
 — he never debased himself by intoxication. 
 At whatever time he returned home, in what- 
 ever society he had passed the hours of his 
 absence, he was always perfectly sober when 
 I admitted him, and though of course I could 
 not know from observation how seldom this 
 was the case with men who behaved as 
 he did, yet I remembered hearing y\r. Lnn- 
 cester, on one occasion, endeavour to comfort 
 
 VOL. I. i:
 
 74 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 my father by the assurance, that so long as 
 that vice was not added to the catalooue of 
 his faults, there was hope he would become 
 sensible of the degrading state to which 
 his conduct frequently reduced him. I was 
 made intensely miserable by the change which 
 had taken place in his behaviour. I was old 
 enough to be aware that he could not lead 
 the life he did without spending considerable 
 sums of money, and though he had not yet 
 applied to his mother for more than a few 
 pounds occasionally, I felt certain that even- 
 tually she would be called on to discharge 
 the debts he must be contracting. 
 
 Esther, with her usual sunny philosophy, 
 consoled me by saying we must not be very 
 unhappy concerning him, so long as he re- 
 turned home nightly. But even that mise- 
 rable comfort was soon taken from us — two 
 nights I watched in vain for his return, and 
 fearful thoughts as to the duration of his 
 absence, and the state in which we might 
 probably discover him, agitated my mind. 
 
 I had not long to wait for the cause of his 
 absence. With all my economy, it was a
 
 MY ELDEST RROTIIKU. 75 
 
 difficult task to do more thun make our in- 
 come suffice for our expenditure, and some 
 money which Henry had recently obtained 
 from his mother had left her with barely five 
 pounds at the bankers when the next quarter's 
 money was paid in. 
 
 It was my custom to pay all the household 
 bills monthly, but as Mr. Lancester had told 
 me I should not pay small sums by cheque, I 
 was in the habit of obtaining one with my 
 mother's signature, and filling it up for what- 
 ever amount I required, and this was always 
 cashed for me by a tradesman with whom we 
 had dealt for many years. The day following 
 one of those monthly settlements, I was told 
 that Mr. Hunt wished to see me. This was 
 the person who had cashed the cheque for me 
 the day before, for thirty-five pounds. When 
 I entered the dining-room, where he was 
 waiting for me, I perceived, to my great sur- 
 prise, that he had this cheque in his liand. 
 
 " I am sorry to trouble you, miss," com- 
 menced he, before I could ask him the reason 
 of his visit, " but I am sure when you asked 
 me to cash this cheque yesterday, you <ii<l 
 
 E 2
 
 76 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 not know there were no assets at the bank to 
 meet it." 
 
 I suppose my looks must have shown the 
 astonishment I felt at his words, for before I 
 could reply to him, he said, " It is no mistake 
 of mine, Miss Ellen, for I took it to Lombard 
 Street myself this morning, and the cashier 
 returned it to me as I have told you." 
 
 By this time I had sufficiently recovered 
 from the surprise his first words occasioned 
 me, to assure him it was a mistake, for that 
 the week previously two hundred pounds 
 had been paid to my mother's credit, and that 
 this was the first cheque which had been 
 drawn on it. 
 
 " But I will go with you at once," said I, 
 '' and have this great error corrected ;" and 
 without seeing either Esther or Martha, I left 
 the house with my creditor. 
 
 It was with perfect confidence and self- 
 possession that I entered the banking house, 
 and followed Mr. Hunt to that part of the 
 counter where the cheques were received. 
 
 ''Here is Miss Travers," said he, to the 
 cashier, " ccuie to speak to you about this
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 77 
 
 cheque you returned to nie this morning. 
 She says you have two hundred pounds of her 
 mamma's in hand." 
 
 " The young lady is mistaken," was the 
 civil reply. " We had something over that 
 sura two days ago — hut she had hotter take 
 the book and look over it, and she will see 
 that the two hundred pounds were drawn out 
 in one cheque." 
 
 I stretched out my hand to receive the 
 proffered book, and immediately looked at 
 the last entry it contained. It was to 
 " II. T.— £200." 
 
 ** Here are the cheques," said the cashier. 
 " The last is for the sum I mentioned, and is 
 dated Wednesday last." 
 
 I looked at the paper he held towards me. 
 It was filled up in my brother's hand, and 
 bore the signature of my mother. Completely 
 stunned by this unexpected misfortune, I 
 stepped into the cab which was waiting to 
 convey me home without speaking one word 
 to my civil attendant. 
 
 I could not collect my faculties sufhciently 
 to consider the consequences of this cruel
 
 78 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 conduct of my mother's — that she should, 
 without a word of warning to myself, have 
 parted with every shilling of the money re- 
 quired for our support during the ensuing 
 three months, and that to supply the profli- 
 gacy of my brother, was a blow so unex- 
 pected, that for a time I was completely over- 
 whelmed by it. I was roused from my bitter 
 reflections by the voice of Mr. Hunt. 
 
 " Don't be cast down, miss," said the kind- 
 hearted man ; " I am in no hurry for my 
 money. I am quite sure you thought it 
 was all right when you asked me to give you 
 the money for the cheque; you are quite 
 welcome to the loan of it till your mamma has 
 made things straight at the bank. It can't 
 be long before a lady like Mrs. Travers will 
 be able to pay such a sum as this." 
 
 ** You shall be paid this very evening, Mr. 
 Hunt," said I ; " and I am indeed sorry you 
 should have to wait till then for the money 
 you advanced me for the cheque." 
 
 Not another word was spoken till I re- 
 turned his civil " good morning" at the door 
 of my mother's house.
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 79 
 
 Hastening directly to her room, I was wel- 
 comed with more emotion than she usually 
 displayed. She was netting, and as I entered 
 she exclaimed, " Oh ! Nelly, where have you 
 been ? I have wanted you to match this silk 
 I am using for a purse for Henry. The other 
 other day, when I gave him some money, he 
 told me he had nothing to put it in." 
 
 My mother looked and spoke as calmly as 
 if it was a commonjdace occurrence to give 
 her eldest son every shilling she possessed, 
 and I could not refrain from saying, bitterly, 
 " You must make a larger purse than that, 
 mamma, if Henry wishes it to contain the 
 money you gave him on Wednesday." 
 
 She looked up from her work, evidently 
 surprised at the tone in which I had spoken. 
 ** I think, Nelly, this will hold all I gave him 
 — ten pounds do not require a very capacious 
 purse to contain it." 
 
 As I listened to my mother's words, and 
 saw the perfect unconsciousness she evinced 
 of the amount of the cheque Henry had pre- 
 sented at the bank, the truth flashed instantly 
 across ni)' mind, and 1 only wondered I had
 
 80 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 remained so long blind to it. She, as was 
 her invariable habit, had simply signed the 
 cheque, and Henry had taken advantage of 
 her confidence to fill it up for the large sum 
 he had obtained. 
 
 Before acquainting her with what I was 
 sure would greatly agitate her, I resolved to 
 consult Esther.* She was the consoler and 
 adviser of all my difficulties, and I hoped in 
 the present instance she might devise some 
 scheme by which we could replace the money 
 without my mother having the pain of learn- 
 ing the manner in which it had been ab- 
 stracted. 
 
 I found my sister greatly alarmed at my 
 unusual absence, which she had immediately 
 associated with Henry's disappearance during 
 the last two days. She was soon acquainted 
 with the facts, and I besought her to think of 
 some plan by which this fresh evidence of our 
 brother's unworthiness might be concealed 
 from his mother. To my great surprise, she 
 counselled that she should be immediately 
 informed of it. 
 
 '' We have no right in any way to procure
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 81 
 
 money without her sanction, Nelly ; besides, 
 I do not see how it is possible we could do 
 so ; and the sura you are indebted to Mr. 
 Hunt must be paid immediately. But let us 
 consult Martha, she will judge better than we 
 can how far it may be prudent to acquaint 
 my mother with Henry's conduct." 
 
 This faithful confidante was shocked when 
 we communicated to her the events of the 
 morning, and like myself appeared apprehen- 
 sive of the effects the knowledge of them 
 might produce on my mother; but after a 
 few minutes' consideration, she said, *' Miss 
 Esther is right ; you are too young to act in 
 this business without my mistress's know- 
 ledge ; you must tell her of it at once, dear." 
 
 " Not alone, Martha," cried I, fearfully. 
 " I could not tell alone ; let her come here, 
 and Esther's presence may give me courage 
 to tell her what I am sure will occasion her 
 great sorrow." 
 
 " I will find some means of sending her to 
 you at once, then," answered my nurse, i\ud 
 she left the room hastil}', as if fearful my 
 
 E 5
 
 82 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 resolution would give way if not directly 
 executed. 
 
 In a few minutes she returned, accom- 
 panied by my mother, who said reproachfully 
 to me, " Nelly, you have forgotten the silk 
 I requested you to find for me, so I have 
 taken Martha's advice, and have come to seek 
 for it myself." 
 
 ** Sit down, darling mother," said Esther, 
 boldly approaching the subject from which I 
 cowardly shrunk. " Nelly has been out this 
 morning on business, and it is necessary you 
 should know what it was." 
 
 My mother looked surprised at this unusual 
 demand on her attention, and in a tone of 
 some annoyance, replied, " I conclude it is 
 nothing but what you are competent to 
 arrange, Nelly." 
 
 " My dear mother," said Esther, " cannot 
 you believe that we should not have troubled 
 you by speaking of what could have been 
 settled without consulting you. Nelly is in 
 difficulties respecting money, and you must 
 endeavour to explain to her how she can 
 immediately obtain some." Then, without
 
 MY ELDEST imOTIIKR. 83 
 
 waiting for my mother to reply to tliis unex- 
 pected intelligence, she proceeded, " The 
 cheque you gave Henry, and -which you 
 imagined he would fill up for ten pounds, 
 was in reality drawn for two hundred, and in 
 consequence of this want of thought in my 
 brother, we have no funds at the banker's to 
 meet immediate and pressing demands." 
 
 All the time Esther was speaking I had 
 held my eyes fixed on the face of my mother, 
 in the apprehension she would be violently 
 agitated by the intelligence so abruptly com- 
 municated to her; but, to my astonishment 
 and delight, she listened to my sister with 
 composure, and when she had ceased speak- 
 ing, desired, in a calm voice, to be informed 
 of all the particulars respecting the trans- 
 action. 
 
 I told her as concisely as possible of the 
 visit of Mr. Hunt with the dishonoured 
 cheque, and of my going with him to the 
 bank. I then placed in her hand the banker's 
 book, together with the cheque which had 
 enabled Henry to obtain the money. While 
 rav mother listened, a cloud seemed to pass
 
 84 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 from her face, and it became animated by the 
 look so long missed from it — the look of 
 anxious love it formerly wore when interested 
 in any of the sorrows and anxieties of our 
 daily life. 
 
 "Mj dear children," said she, humbly, 
 when I had concluded my narrative, *' I fear 
 I have been greatly to blame. Sunk in sel- 
 fish apathy since the loss of my husband, I 
 have neglected the duties of a mother, and 
 allowed you, my dear girls, to fight with 
 difficulties which never might have arisen had 
 I exerted myself to act rightly. Had I in- 
 sisted on Henry's procuring some employ- 
 ment, instead of encouraging him to pass the 
 last two years in such deplorable idleness, he 
 might not again have fallen back into the 
 vices and extravagancies of his earlier years. 
 It was love for me, and the fear that I should 
 mourn his absence, which induced him to 
 resign his situation in the counting house of 
 Mr. Rivers. During the time he was occupied 
 there, not a shadow of misconduct stained 
 his name. True, indeed, are the words of 
 the proverb, ' The busv man has but one devil.
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 85 
 
 the idle man has a hundred.' Alas ! that ray 
 own sinful indulgence of sorrow should have 
 occasioned the ruin of my son." 
 
 Esther and I looked at each other in pain- 
 ful surprise, as w^e heard our mother accuse 
 herself as the author of Henry's dishonesty. 
 Many times since my father's death had we 
 congratulated each other that she was in 
 ignorance of the share he had in producing 
 that calamity ; hut now it was with great 
 difiiculty I could refrain from informing her 
 of the truth, and thus spare her the bitterness 
 of self-reproach, but Esther gave me a warn- 
 ing look, and I remained silent. 
 
 My mother then desired to be made ac- 
 quainted with all the particulars respecting 
 my brother's late conduct, and when he first 
 began to display the fatal symptoms of his 
 return to his former evil courses. 
 
 I told her how, for the last few weeks, he 
 had returned home at all hours of the nis:ht, 
 and that for the last two he had absented 
 himself altogether. I then pressed on her 
 attention the necessity for immediately pro- 
 curing money.
 
 86 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 ** You need not be uneasy on that point, 
 Nelly," answered she ; '* I can soon replace 
 the money Henry has stolen from us — ^yes, 
 stolen from us ! Esther, darling, you must 
 not shrink at hearing the true word applied 
 to your brother's unscrupulous conduct. I do 
 not say that legally he could be punished for 
 the theft, for I trusted him to fill up the 
 cheque, but he has taken a base advantage of 
 the confidence reposed in him, to rob me of a 
 sum he well knew I should never have be- 
 stowed on him. The unhappy boy is like 
 those men who can abstain altogether from 
 intoxicating liquids, but who cannot partake 
 of them in moderation. He will remain 
 months, and even years, contentedly in seclu- 
 sion, but once let him put the cup of what 
 he calls pleasure to his lips, and all self- 
 restraint vanishes the moment he tastes the 
 temptation with which it is filled ; but now, 
 Nelly, for action. Will you write to our only 
 friend, and ask him to come to us at once?" 
 
 I reminded my mother that Mr. Lancester 
 was in Scotland, and added, that had he been 
 at home I should have endeavoured, throuoh
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 87 
 
 his assistance, to have kept her in ignorance 
 of Henry's conduct. 
 
 ** Tlien, Nelly, I am glad he is absent. It 
 was a terrible calamity which deprived you 
 so long of a mother's care, and I bless God 
 that even by a fresh sorrow I am awakened 
 to the knowledge of my own sinful repinings 
 at His will ; I will pray that strength may 
 be given me to combat with the difficulties 
 which my own neglect of duty has occasioned." 
 
 She then directed me to write to the gentle- 
 man who for many years had acted as my 
 father's solicitor, and request him to call on 
 her immediately. 
 
 To me, the wonderful change which the 
 last hour had wrought in my mother appeared 
 miraculous. The mental lassitude which for 
 the last two years had obscured her intellect 
 was quite dissipated, and when Mr. Bingley 
 arrived, she received him with the greatest 
 composure, and stated, in business-like lan- 
 guage, her immediate necessity for three 
 hundred pounds. 
 
 This gentleman was perfectly well ac- 
 quainted with my mother's affairs, and knew
 
 88- MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 exactly the amount of her income, and he 
 looked both surprised and vexed when she 
 concisely mentioned her need of so large a 
 sum. 
 
 " Of course, Mrs. Travers," he replied, 
 " you can directly have any sum you may 
 require, your late husband's will gives you 
 the power of disposing as you please of the 
 property he bequeathed you, but you must 
 pardon me for observing that it is usually a 
 dangerous expedient to encroach on the 
 capital of the money from which your income 
 is derived, and I must advise you, as a friend, 
 to be very careful how you incur the necessity 
 of doing so. If Mr. Lancester were in town, 
 he might, perhaps, persuade you to relinquish 
 your intention of doing so now." 
 
 My mother was evidently pained by the 
 grave manner in which Mr. Bingley remon- 
 strated with her. It was easy to discover 
 that he considered her conduct most impru- 
 dent, but it was impossible to exculpate her- 
 self from the charge without denouncing the 
 conduct of her son. 
 
 When he found she persisted in her reso-
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 89 
 
 lution of procuring the money, he promised 
 to send a cheque for the amount to tlie bank 
 directly. 
 
 "It is very easy for you, my dear Mrs. 
 Travers," said this kind and prudent friend, 
 as he took his leave, *' to sign your name and 
 transfer your property to other persons, but 
 I must again warn you of the peril of so 
 doing, and sincerely hope you will not a 
 second time require my services for such a 
 purpose.'*
 
 90 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Henry did not give us a long respite. Before 
 three weeks had elapsed from the time of his 
 obtaining the money, he returned home, but 
 this time he did not, as was usually the case 
 after one of his transgressions, appear peni- 
 tent and humble; he was not absent long 
 enough to experience privation, and it was 
 with the air of one who had received an injury 
 rather than committed it, that he made his 
 appearance late one afternoon in Esther's 
 room, where my mother and myself were 
 sitting. 
 
 As his mother rose to receive him, he 
 looked at her with amazement ; he perceived 
 in a moment that a great change had passed 
 over her since he had last seen her, and the
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 91 
 
 sullen, defiant Jook, with which he had en- 
 tered, was changed to one of shame and ap- 
 prehension as she said, " I must speak to you, 
 but not here ; go down, and I will join you 
 in a few minutes." 
 
 "When he had obeyed her command, she 
 said, with a sad voice, " I must do my duty, 
 painful though it be ; to-night must decide 
 whether I am still to regard Henry as a son 
 whom I can admit to associate with my other 
 children. If he can give no satisfactory ex- 
 planation of his absence, and the purpose for 
 which he obtained that money, I will not 
 suffer him to be an inmate of my house." 
 
 I could not avoid feeling as if my mother 
 committed an injury against her other chil- 
 dren, by hinting at the possibility of Henry's 
 being able to exculpate himself in anyway 
 from the charge of having basely defrauded 
 her of the money from the banker's. Truly 
 she was one who could pardon the olTences 
 of this best loved of her chihlren, not seven 
 times only, but seventy times seven. 
 
 I never knew what passed hetween tlicm in 
 that interview, but after it had lasted more
 
 92 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 than two hours, they returned together to 
 Esther's room. My mother's face betrayed 
 signs of violent emotion, but Henry's still 
 wore the same half-ashamed, half-defiant ex- 
 pression with which he had quitted the room. 
 
 " My dear children," said my mother, with 
 a voice in which sorrow and joy seemed 
 mingled, " welcome Henry home ; this night 
 has, I hope, restored to you a brother I feared 
 you had for ever lost. To-morrow you shall 
 hear the plans he has formed for his future 
 life, and I have promised to assist him to the 
 utmost of my ability in carrying them into 
 execution." 
 
 Very shortly after, Henry, on the plea of 
 fatigue, wished us good night, and retired to 
 his room. My dear mother's eyes followed 
 him with an anxious, troubled look, though 
 she had endeavoured to appear tranquil, and 
 even cheerful, while he remained in the room. 
 
 " I am thankful to have your brother once 
 more under this roof, Nelly," said she, in 
 answer to some question I -had put to her 
 relative to his absence. '' He has promised 
 amendment, and told me the money he ob-
 
 . MY ELDEST BROTHER. 93 
 
 tained by such unjustifia])le means was to 
 satisfy claims of long standing, and which, if 
 he had not discharged at the moment he did, 
 would have rendered him liable to disgrace 
 and imprisonment." 
 
 The following day we were made acquainted 
 with Henry's wishes for his future career. 
 He was anxious to emigrate to one of our 
 colonies, and my mother had promised to 
 consult Mr. Lancester on the subject as soon 
 as he returned to town, on the best mode of 
 enabling him to establish himself respectably 
 either in Canada or Australia. 
 
 " A few days ago," said his poor mother, 
 ** I should have looked on his departure from 
 England as the greatest misfortune which 
 could have occurred to me ; now I view it as 
 the only hope of his salvation. Removed 
 from the pernicious influence of his old com- 
 panions, and placed with those ignorant of 
 his past excesses, he may, with God's blessing, 
 lead a new life, and return to us at some 
 future day a son and a brother we may wel- 
 come with love and esteem. It will take a 
 large sum, T fear, to give him this chance of
 
 94 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 reformation, but I am sure you can all bear 
 cheerfully any deprivations when they may 
 be compensated for by the blessed hope of a 
 brother's redemption from sin." 
 
 Henry remained at home three days, nor 
 did he attempt to leave the house once during 
 that period, but his mind was evidently pre- 
 occupied, and his manner constrained and 
 gloomy. He appeared to be always in a state 
 of expectation ; every ring at the bell agi- 
 tated him, and he always loitered near the 
 hall door at the time the postman was in the 
 habit of leavinfy letters. Once or twice durin^^^ 
 the three days he took them himself from the 
 man, and after their perusal became still more 
 restless and unhappy. 
 
 Late in the evening of the third day there 
 was a loud peal of the gate bel], and a servant 
 entered almost immediately, and said a per- 
 son was waiting outside to speak with Mr. 
 Henry. Without speaking a word, my brother 
 rushed from the room, and the next instatit 
 we heard the street door close after him. 
 
 For several hours we listened anxiously for 
 his return, but when one o'clock struck, and
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 95 
 
 he was still absent, Martha succeeded in 
 persuading my mother to retire, as it was not 
 proba])le " Mr. Henry would come home that 
 night." I believed he would, and determined 
 to watch, as I had done so frequently of late, 
 at the window of the room which overlooked 
 the small shrubbery which surrounded the 
 house. The night wa^ dark, but a gas lamp 
 over the front gate gave sufficient light to 
 enable me to discern any one approaching the 
 door. 
 
 I had waited more than an hour, when I 
 heard, as I thought, the footsteps of more 
 than one person pause at the gate. After a 
 short interval it was opened, and, to my great 
 relief, I saw Henry advance alone towards 
 the house. When I admitted him he appeared 
 in high spirits, thanked me for sitting up 
 for him, and said he hoped there was some- 
 thing in the house he could have for supper, 
 as he was very hungry. I told him there was 
 wine and biscuits in the dining-room. 
 
 ** That will not do," he answered. **Run 
 down to the kitchen, there's a good chikl, 
 Nelly, and see what you can find for me, I
 
 96 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 will fasten the door," and taking the chain 
 from ray hand, he almost pushed me towards 
 the kitchen stairs. 
 
 While I was in the pantry, I fancied I heard 
 the street door again opened ; and fearful he 
 was about to leave the house, I called out '* I 
 shall be up directly, Henry ; pray, pray do 
 not go out again to-night." But at that 
 instant my fears on this point were set at 
 rest, by hearing him bolt and lock the door 
 with a great deal of unnecessary noise. 
 
 He then descended to the pantry, and 
 offered to assist me in taking up his supper. 
 I was about to cut some slices from a piece of 
 cold beef when he joined me, but he snatched 
 up the large dish in which it was placed, and 
 saying he was hungry enough to eat the whole 
 of it, carried it up-stairs, I following with the 
 tray containing bread and other articles. 
 
 As I deposited it on the dining-room table, 
 he exclaimed, in the same hurried manner, 
 '* Now, Nelly, look alive ! — give me the key 
 of the plate cupboard, to get a fork and 
 spoons, while you go and draw me some beer." 
 
 I did as he desired me, and, after giving
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 97 
 
 him the key, once more went down the 
 kitchen stairs. 
 
 The plate-cupboard was a hirge closet in 
 the dining-room, such as are frequently met 
 with in old-fashioned houses. It was of 
 sufiScient dimensions to admit of three or 
 four persons standing in it at the same time ; 
 and from my earliest recollection, it was cus- 
 tomary to deposit in it nightly the basket 
 containing the plate used during the day : 
 the door of this closet was strongly plated 
 with iron, and the key never entrusted to any 
 one but Martha or myself. 
 
 I believe these precautions were taken in 
 consequence of our being richer in plate than 
 most families in our rank of life. My mother 
 had inherited a considerable quantity of old- 
 fashioned silver from a relative, which, as it 
 was never required for use, was kept in two 
 large chests in the closet I have mentioned. 
 
 When I returned to tlie dining-room with 
 the beer, Henry looked up from his plate, 
 and throwing me the key across the table, 
 said, '* I have locked the closet, Nelly, and 
 will turn down the gas in the hall, and see all 
 
 yOL. I. F
 
 98 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 is right before I go up-stairs, so you had 
 better get to bed at once ! " 
 
 This proposal excited a vague kind of ap- 
 prehension in my mind. It was always my 
 custom to remain below till he went to 
 his own room ; and I felt instinctively that 
 he had some motive for wishing me to leave 
 him there. I, therefore, answered that I was 
 not sleepy, and should remain till he was 
 ready to accompany me up stairs. 
 
 He raised his eyes from his plate, and cast 
 a quick, suspicious glance at my face ; then 
 instantly lowered them, and said, sullenly, 
 " Just as you please ; only don't look like a 
 martyr to-morrow from headache, and tell 
 every one it is because I kept you up so 
 late." 
 
 He appeared for some minutes wholly occu- 
 pied v^ith his supper, and when he had finished, 
 he said, "I have mislaid my cigar-case, and 
 think it must be in the garden-room ; will 
 you hold a candle, while I search for it ? " 
 
 I immediately followed him to the door of 
 the room he had mentioned, and held the 
 lio-ht while he unfastened it. This door was
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 99 
 
 always strongly secured at night, in conse- 
 quence of an attempt some years previously 
 to obtain an entrance into the house through 
 the window which looked into the garden. 
 
 This room was used as a receptacle for 
 all descriptions of litter ; anything that had 
 to be put out of the way, any stray article, 
 which had no particular place assigned to it, 
 was thrown into the garden-room : shawls, 
 hats, boots, umbrellas, parasols, the light 
 tools my mother used to use in the garden, 
 Henry's great coats, morning-gowns, atid 
 slippers — everything, in short, which went by 
 the name of '' litter " was thrust into it ; and, 
 therefore, I was not surprised that Henry 
 should think of looking there for his cigar- 
 case. 
 
 I held the candle while he hunted on the 
 shelves, searched pockets, and opened drawers ; 
 still the missing article was not discovered. 
 After some minutes spent in that manner, he 
 said, " Perhaps, after all, it is in the drawer 
 of the hall-table — wait here a moment wliile 
 I look." 
 
 My back was towards the door as he 
 
 F 2
 
 100 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 quitted the room, but I turned quickly 
 round, when I heard it, as I thought, bolted 
 from the outside. I rushed to it, and found 
 that I was indeed a prisoner. I called loudly 
 to Henry to release me— thinking he had 
 fastened it in sport — but received no reply 
 to my entreaties. He had evidently left the 
 spot. 
 
 I was so astonished at the situation in 
 which I found myself, that I could not for 
 some time imagine the reason for such con- 
 duct ; but the idea suddenly occurred to me 
 that Henry must have some powerful motive 
 for thus securing me. But what could it be ? 
 If he had wished to leave the house I could 
 not have prevented him. He was at liberty 
 to act as he pleased. I tried in vain to find 
 a motive for his cruelty ; and at last came to 
 the conclusion that it was an ill-natured mode 
 of punishing me for refusing to go to bed 
 when he wished me. 
 
 Satisfied that no other motive could have 
 actuated him, my thoughts turned towards ray 
 mother. How alarmed she would be if, as 
 was frequently the case, she required my
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 101 
 
 services during the night. Surely, surely 
 Henry would soon release me — he could not 
 be so cruel as to keep me shut in that cold 
 dreary room throughout the night. 
 
 I walked impatiently backwards and for- 
 wards in my cage ; each time pausing at the 
 door to listen for the footsteps of my jailor. 
 But in vain did I expect him ! What was I 
 to do? If I screamed loud enough to be 
 heard in the upper part of the house, I should 
 alarm my mother fearfully. No ; that was 
 not to be thought of, even if I remained till 
 morning in the prison into which I had been 
 so shamefully entrapped. But could I not 
 devise some method for my release? The 
 window — was it not possible to escape by 
 that? It was very easy to reach from within, 
 but then on the other side was a deep brick 
 area. True, it was not enclosed by railings, 
 but how was I to climb from it to the 
 garden? And even if I succeeded in doing 
 so, how was I to obtain admittance into the 
 house without alarming its inmates? Still 
 anything was better than inaction ; only let 
 me escape from the room, and I might be
 
 102 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 able to think of some mode by which I could 
 enter the house. 
 
 With considerable difficulty, I managed to 
 remove the heavy bars with which the shutters 
 were secured ; and opening the window, I, by 
 the aid of a chain, easily stepped into the 
 area. The night was densely dark, but, by 
 the faint glimmer of the candle within the 
 room, I could see the top of the brickwork, 
 which I must surmount before I could obtain 
 my freedom. Fruitless were all my efforts 
 to do so ; many times I made frantic ex- 
 ertions to raise myself to a level with the 
 garden, and each time I fell back exhausted 
 by my vain endeavours. I was as fast a 
 captive as when I stood within the room 
 itself. I could find no resting-place for my 
 foot in the firm brickwork, and could not 
 spring high enough to place my hands on the 
 top of it. 
 
 Hopeless of escape, I sunk to the bottom 
 of the cold, damp area, and- burst into tears. 
 It was frightful to be in such a place, at such 
 an hour, without hope of liberation. The 
 wind howled mournfully as it swept over me,
 
 MY ELDEST BROTUEll. 103 
 
 while the tall branches of a large acacia tree, 
 which stood close by the window, waved over 
 my head, with a heavy swinging motion, as if 
 they were threatening to strike me. Ah ! 
 thought I — as I almost felt them touch me — 
 if I could but manage to clutch you, I might 
 swing myself out of this dreadful place ; then 
 the idea flashed across my mind, might I not 
 do so if elevated a little from the ground ; 
 could I not drag a chair through the window, 
 and, by standing on it, snatch at the branches 
 as they blew towards me, and by their aid 
 raise myself to the garden. 
 
 As soon as I thought of this plan, 1 
 hastened to execute it, and, to my great joy, 
 succeeded in dragging the chair through the 
 window, and, standing on it, seized one of 
 the boughs, and in a few seconds I was ex- 
 tricated from my brick prison. 
 
 As soon as my feet touched the ground, 
 I stole softly round to the front of the liouse. 
 I could see through the large old-fashioned 
 fanlight over the door that the gas was still 
 burning in the hall, and this encouraged 
 me to hope that Henry was still in tlic dining-
 
 104 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 room. I was about to knock at the window 
 for admission, when I noticed, to my great 
 surprise, that the door was not quite closed. 
 Imagining I must be mistaken, I placed my 
 hand against it. It yielded to the slight 
 pressure, and the next instant I stood within 
 the hall. 
 
 The first idea that suggested itself was, 
 that Henry had left the house, and had neg- 
 lected to shut the door. 
 
 The next moment my heart was filled with 
 terror. I fancied I heard the murmur of 
 voices proceeding from the dining-room. An 
 instant I remained irresolute ; and then — for 
 nothing is so rash as fear — I opened the door, 
 and stood on the threshold of the room. 
 
 What a sight did I behold ! Henry was 
 seated on the sofa, and by his side, with her 
 arms encircling his neck — was a woman, who, 
 even in that dreadful moment, I could discern 
 was young and beautiful. The room was in 
 great confusion, the door of. the plate closet 
 was wide open, and within stood a man occu- 
 pied in placing the content of the chests in a 
 large dark sack.
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 105 
 
 All this was revealed to me in a second, 
 and I conclude I must have uttered some ex- 
 clamation as I gazed ; for, at the same instant, 
 the man's head was turned towards me, and 
 Henry, springing, from the sofa, cried, ** In 
 God's name ! how came you here, Nelly?" 
 
 I could not answer; I felt that my lips 
 moved, but no sound escaped them. Henry 
 looked frightened, and moved towards me, 
 when the woman said, in a low, hissing voice, 
 "So, this is Nelly, the spy — is it? that you 
 told me was securely locked up for the night ? 
 What did you mean by telling me such a 
 vile falsehood ? Did you hope by it to save 
 your mother's plate from the melting-pot? 
 No, no. Master Harry, neither that nor you 
 will escape me this night ! " 
 
 As she spoke, she rushed to the spot 
 where I stood, and seizing my arm, dragged 
 me to the table, on wliich stood the tray I 
 had placed for Henry's supper. She took a 
 knife from it, and, turning towards me, 
 said, in a low, distinct voice, " If you mako 
 as much noise as a pin would in falling to 
 the ground, I will drive this to your heart ! 
 
 F 5
 
 106 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 Ask your brother if I do not know how to 
 use such a weapon when I wish to punish a 
 traitor?" 
 
 Still unable to articulate a word, I feebly 
 endeavoured to extricate myself from her 
 firm grasp, but desisted, as she raised the 
 knife with a threatening gesture, and whis- 
 pered, " Be still, you fool, if you do not wish 
 me to use it ! " 
 
 Then turning to the man in the closet, 
 she said, " Now, Jasper, have you almost 
 finished ? " 
 
 '^ Yes," was the answer; ** I have, and 
 pretty heavy the plunder is, too. You and 
 Henry must both help me to carry it to 
 the cab." 
 
 " I shall not leave my hold of this girl," 
 said the woman, " till I know you are safely 
 off with the plate. Go and help him, Henry ; 
 and when you return I will be ready to join 
 you." 
 
 Henry's face was pale and agitated. I 
 could see there was a terrible struggle in his 
 mind as he heard the words of the beautiful 
 demon who held me in such an iron grasp.
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 107 
 
 He appeared to hesitate as to whether he 
 should obey her commands or hasten to my 
 rescue ; but, alas ! the evil prevailed over the 
 good in his heart, and, after a moment's 
 irresolution, he took his hat and prepared to 
 quit the room. 
 
 Then terror and despair restored to me the 
 power of utterance, and I screamed, " Oh ! 
 Henry, my brother ! do not leave me with 
 this fearful woman. She will kill me ! ". 
 
 At this instant I received a violent blow 
 on the back of my head, and fell senseless to 
 the orround.
 
 108 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 When I regained consciousness, I was in my 
 own bed ; my mother was standing by my 
 side, and Esther reclining on a sofa at the 
 foot. Astonished at beholding her there, I 
 endeavoured to raise myself in the bed for 
 the purpose of asking an explanation of such 
 •a remarkable circumstance. 
 
 My mother gently replaced my head on the 
 pillow, and said, *' Hush, Nelly darling, don't 
 try to speak. God be praised that you know 
 us again ! With His blessing you will soon 
 be well. But you must ask no questions yet ; 
 when able to do so, you will have much to 
 hear and to relate concerning this dreadful 
 illness." 
 
 I soon discovered I had no strength to dis-
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 109 
 
 pute her commands. Feeble and helpless as 
 an infant, I remained for many days after I 
 was conscious of what passed around me. 
 I laid perfectly quiet ; taking the food and 
 medicines which were given me, but without 
 strength or energy to speak one word to 
 those who night and day attended me with 
 such love and care. T remained for hours 
 with closed eyelids, apparently insensible of 
 all outward occurrences ; but my mind was 
 slowly recalling the events of tliat terrible 
 night. Piece by piece they returned to my me- 
 mory : Henry's return — his locking me in the 
 garden -room — my escape — the horrid scene 
 in the dining-room — and the cruel blow 
 which had felled me to the ground : all rose 
 to ray recollection. Then I wondered whether 
 my mother knew the cause of what she had 
 called ^^ my dreadful illness," whether Henry 
 was at home, and most of all was I anxious 
 to know how long a time had elapsed since 
 those events took place. 
 
 It seemed as if I must have been long in- 
 sensible, for it was November when Henry 
 left the house that fatal evening, and now, on
 
 110 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 the table in my room, stood a vase filled with 
 sprigs of holly, laden with crimson berries, 
 while among them glittered the delicate white 
 blossoms of the Christmas rose. Was it 
 possible that the blessed season, of which they 
 were the symbols, could be nigh at hand, and 
 that weeks had passed while I lay suffering 
 from the effects of that cruel blow? 
 
 It was even so. When able to question 
 my mother on the subject, I heard that 
 Christmas had come and passed whilst I 
 remained insensible of all around me, and 
 that on the morrow a new year would com- 
 mence. Gradually I learnt from my mother and 
 Martha the circumstances which followed the 
 night of the robbery. Not a suspicion of the 
 truth was entertained. When the servants 
 entered the dining-room in the morning I 
 was discovered dead, as they imagined, on 
 the ground — while every article of plate 
 had been removed from the closet; the 
 hall-door was wide open, and it was sup- 
 posed that hearing footsteps on the gravel 
 in front of the house, I must, have concluded 
 Henry was waiting for admission, and that on
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 1 1 1 
 
 opening the luill-door the thieves rushed in 
 and struck me down as I fled into the dining- 
 room. 
 
 ** The only thing the police could not un- 
 derstand," said my mother, " was that, 
 though the front door was open, the robbers 
 appeared to have escaped through the window 
 of the garden-room ; and they concluded 
 they must have had a boy with them, as a 
 chair was placed in the area for the purpose 
 of enabling}: him to reach the o:arden." 
 
 When my mother had finished her recital, 
 she asked me whether the conjectures of the 
 police were correct, and if the thieves had 
 obtained entrance through my mistaking their 
 footsteps for those of my brother. 
 
 I knew not what to reply. The supposition 
 was such a very probable one, that I was not 
 surprised it had obtained general credence. 
 Ought I to betray the real culprit, and thus 
 wound my i)0()r mother's heart with the 
 knowledge that her idolized son was the mid- 
 night robber of her property, the friend and 
 associate of the base ruffian whose hand 
 had so nearly deprive<l me of life?
 
 112 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 My mother imagined my silence proceeded 
 from exhaustion, and tenderly kissing me, 
 said, " We will talk of that terrible night no 
 more, Nelly. You are mercifully spared to 
 me, and all else is as dust in the balance." 
 
 One thing I must know. Had Henry been 
 at home during my illness ? I heard, to 
 my great astonishment, that he returned two 
 days after the robbery. That he had read 
 in the papers all the particulars respecting 
 it, and of my dangerous condition. He had 
 taken very active steps, I was told, to dis- 
 cover the thieves, and had the walls in the 
 neighbourhood placarded with bills, con- 
 taining large offers of reward for their 
 apprehension. 
 
 I listened to this account of his beha- 
 viour with feelings impossible to describe. 
 That he should add atrocious falsehood to 
 atrocious crime was not surprising, but that 
 fears for his own safety had not deterred him 
 from venturing to pollute his mother's house 
 with his vile presence, that he had not 
 dreaded I should denounce him as the com-
 
 MY ELDEST BROTUER. 1 1 3 
 
 panion and assistant of the midnight robber 
 of her proi)erty, did indeed astonish me. 
 
 It was witli trembling anxiety as to the 
 answer I might receive, that I inquired if 
 he was still at home ; to my great relief I 
 was informed he had departed the very 
 evening of the day on which I regained 
 consciousness. 
 
 " But don't think him unkind, Nelly," 
 said my mother ; " it was affection for you 
 that detained him here so long. It was 
 dreadful to witness his agony during the 
 wretched days we watched over you, every 
 moment fearing you would be taken from 
 us, without one word or look of recognition. 
 As soon as Mr. Spencer had told us the 
 danger was passed, and that you would 
 shortly be able to acquaint us with all the 
 particulars respecting the robbery, your 
 brother quitted the house, nor has he re- 
 turned since ; and, Nelly, ray darling child, 
 in the joy of your blessed restoration, I have 
 been too happy to feel anxious on account of 
 his protracted absence." 
 
 I was very thankful to hear there was no
 
 114 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 probability of my being compelled to meet 
 Henry. At that time I do not believe I 
 could have done so without betraying his 
 guilty knowledge of that night's occurrence. 
 
 And for the sake of mother, sister, and 
 brothers, I resolved, if possible, to conceal it. 
 When questioned concerning the appearance 
 of the burglars, I said, with perfect truth, 
 that I could not think of the moment I 
 perceived them without horror, and implored 
 that the subject might never be mentioned to 
 me more. And, in compliance with my en- 
 treaties, no allusion was ever made to them in 
 my presence. 
 
 I did not gain health and strength as 
 quickly as Mr. Spencer had induced my 
 mother to believe. Winter had passed 
 away, and when the bright sun and warm 
 showers of April arrived, clothing every 
 tree and plant with verdure, and filling the 
 air with delicious odours, I was still that 
 most wretched and helpless of human beings 
 — a nervous invalid. 
 
 My days were spent in constant appre- 
 hension of evil, my nights in sleepless terror ;
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 1 1 5 
 
 every footstep on the stairs caused my heart 
 to beat Avith frightful violence ; and at night, 
 ever before my eyes, was the figure of that 
 dreadful woman, with the knife uplifted to 
 strike me; while the voices of her com- 
 panion and my brother whispered to me from 
 every corner of the room. 
 
 Sometimes, unable to control my fears, I 
 would call to my mother, and implore her to 
 protect me from the forms my imagination 
 had conjured around me. 
 
 Alarmed by my cries, she would pass hours 
 by my side, vainly endeavouring to soothe my 
 fears — fears for which she was utterly unable 
 to account. 
 
 The impossibility of confiding my hor- 
 rible secret to any one increased the burthen 
 of my wretchedness. But to whom could I 
 do so? My mother and sister must never 
 know it, or their lives would be rendered as 
 miserable as my own. I could not endure 
 the thought of imparting it to our only 
 friend, Mr. Lancester, for I knew he still 
 regarded Henry with affectionate interest, 
 and that he was in the habit of alleviating
 
 116 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 my mother's fears on his account, bj prog- 
 nosticating that the son of such an ho- 
 nourable father could not be irreclaimably 
 vicious. This consolation must be lost if he 
 knew the true history of that dreadful night. 
 No ; the secret must remain festering in my 
 own heart, poisoning each moment of my life 
 with its fatal venom ! 
 
 My mother had appeared to gain new life 
 and energy from the commencement of my 
 illness. I never knew her so strong in health 
 or so brave in spirit as during the months I 
 was such a grievous charge to her. Her 
 solicitude on my account never slumbered; 
 no persuasions could induce her to entrust 
 the task of attending me, night or day, to 
 another. I used to lie and watch with 
 wonder her quick, but noiselesss, movements 
 about the room. She never appeared weary ; 
 never inattentive to my slightest wish. With 
 what a look of love would she implore me to 
 partake of the delicate nourishment she had 
 prepared for me with such care. 
 
 And I did try, for her dear sake, to swallow 
 a portion of what she held to my lips. But
 
 MY ELDEST liROTilER. 117 
 
 I derived no benefit from doing so ; my heart 
 was sick unto death, and no one but myself 
 knew the secret of my fatal malady. 
 
 And yet there was one of tliose who 
 watched over me with such anxious care, 
 who entertained some suspicion of the truth. 
 Martha, my dear old friend — the consoler and 
 confidante of every trouble I had ever known 
 — had discovered that my sickness appertained 
 more to the mind than body. 
 
 One morning early in May my mother was 
 persuaded to leave me for half an hour, 
 for the purpose of walking round the garden, 
 and Martha was to remain with me during 
 her absence ; for since my illness even Esther 
 was neglected. No sooner were we alone, 
 than affectionasely taking my hand, she 
 said — 
 
 *' My dear Miss Nelly, when you were a 
 little cliild I remember your telling me the 
 story of the boy who stole a fox and liid it 
 in the bosom of his dress, and though it bit 
 the flesh from his breast, he would not cry 
 out, and thus betray he was the thief. Now 
 you have a secret constantly gnawing at your
 
 118 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 heart, and, like the boy, you will not cry, 
 lest the thief should be discovered. Tell me, 
 dear child, is not your old nurse right ? " 
 
 I looked in her kind face and saw that she 
 had not spoken at random ; that cautious 
 as I had been, she had divined the cause of 
 my wretchedness ; and, by degrees, I confided 
 to her all the particulars of that memorable 
 night. 
 
 When I had concluded, and lay sobbing 
 and exhausted in her arms, she said, '* Thank 
 you, Miss Nelly ; now I shall be able, I hope, 
 to find the means of curing you." 
 
 "Say nothing, nurse," cried I, in alarm, 
 " to my mother or Esther ! They must never, 
 never know what I have just confided to 
 you." 
 
 '* Don't fear, my dear, you may safely trust 
 me; but here comes your mamma. Don't 
 you think, ma'am. Miss Ellen looks all the 
 better for her little gossip with me ? You 
 feel better, don't you, dear?" 
 
 Yes, I certainly did not feel so miserable ; 
 the sympathy of one who loved me had 
 lightened my heart of part of the heavy load
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 319 
 
 that hud so long burthened it, and my ner- 
 vous apprehensions in some degree vanished 
 from the time I could confide tliem to another. 
 
 A few days after this conversation with 
 my nurse, my mother said to me, '* Do you 
 remember, Nelly, once speaking lo me of the 
 benefit we might all derive from leaving this 
 place, and forming a home amidst fresh 
 scenes. I was very unkind to you when you 
 proposed it, but I have for some time past 
 seen the wisdom which dictated it. We will 
 try your scheme at once, my dear, and see 
 whether it may not be the means of bringing 
 back your health and spirits. You will, I 
 hope, revive under the healthful iiiiluence of 
 novelty, as my sick plants do when trans- 
 ferred into fresh earth." 
 
 I was so astonished at my mother's words, 
 so overpowered by the blessed hope they con- 
 veyed to my heart, that I was for some time 
 incapable of replying. To leave the j)lace 
 where I had suffered such fearful sorrow, to 
 !)e able to live without dreading that each 
 moment might bring fresh calamity, to j)ass 
 the days in tranquillity and the nights with-
 
 120 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 out terror, was a vision of such happiness, 
 that no wonder I was unable to speak to the 
 dear mother who proffered me these blessings. 
 Too soon, alas! was it dispelled. The re- 
 membrance of her former dread of removal 
 recurred to my memory, and, ungrateful that 
 I was, the words she had uttered when sick 
 and in misery now seemed to ring in my ears 
 — " If you, for your own selfish reasons, wish 
 to leave us — go." 
 
 " No, mamma," answered I, after a long 
 silence, '' we will never leave this place ; I 
 know your love of it, and that it is only anxiety 
 on my account which induces you to enter- 
 tain the idea of quitting it. I should indeed 
 be selfish, if I allowed you to act in a way so 
 repugnant to your own feelings." I spoke 
 the word selfish with some bitterness, and my 
 mother noticed it. 
 
 " It is true, my dear child, your mother 
 was most selfish and unjust to you at the 
 time I perceive you remember so well ; for- 
 give her all that is past, and trust to her lov^ 
 and care for the future. We will go, Nelly, 
 at least for a time — I cannot even now resolve
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 121 
 
 to abandon tliis home for evor. Wo will do 
 so for twelve months, and at the expiration 
 of that })eriod we may, with God's blessin^if, 
 return to it stronger in health and happier in 
 mind than we leave it. Esther knows of my 
 resolution, and is looking forward with de- 
 light to the prospect of beholding a new 
 scene, though only from the window of her 
 chamber." 
 
 Ashamed of the ungracious manner in 
 which I had received the first intimation of 
 her intention, I was now eager to express my 
 deep sense of her kindness, but she would 
 not suffer me to do so. 
 
 ** You have nothing to thank me for, dear ; 
 you are to have your share of trouble in this 
 business. Esther and I have resolved that you 
 are to be our director, and we will start under 
 your guidance as soon as you have given us 
 the route. Now think where you would lik<' 
 best to spend the next twelve months, for yon 
 alone are to decide that important point." . 
 
 Months after, and when I had perfectly 
 reirained health, I knew that Martha was tlie 
 originator of this scheme — that in conjnnc- 
 
 VOL. L '
 
 122 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 tion with Mr. Spencer she had induced my 
 mother to propose this step for my restora- 
 tion — and well did it succeed. A fresh 
 channel was opened for the employment of 
 my thoughts, and they turned towards it 
 with as much avidity as persons rush into 
 pure air after long confinement in a close and 
 polluted atmosphere. It was true we were 
 to return to Streatham, but to a girl of six- 
 teen a year seemed a period of indefinite 
 extent, and therefore the enjoyment of the 
 present w^as undisturbed by thought of the 
 future. 
 
 My mother and sister playfully resisted all 
 my artful endeavours to gain some intimation 
 of their wishes respecting the locality of our 
 new residence. 
 
 '' It must not be very distant, Nelly," said 
 the former, " that is my only stipulation. 
 Mr. Spencer is to procure an invalid's travel- 
 ling carriage, in which will be a swinging 
 couch for Esther. She can be placed on it 
 in her own room, and thus be carried to the 
 vehicle; but even in such a conveyance he 
 considers she will not be equal to more than
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 12.S 
 
 two (Jays' journey, so 1 fear 1 must restrict 
 your limits to within fifty miles." 
 
 Fifty miles ! what an expanse for my ima- 
 gination to stray over ; its very magnitude 
 puzzled rae the more. I could have named 
 many charming places within a dozen miles, 
 but when I heard of fifty, I could not fix on 
 one which appeared suitable. Brighton was 
 too hot in summer, and too cold in the early 
 spring ; Hastings was beyond the proscribed 
 distance, and Worthing was open to the same 
 objections as Brighton. But because we were 
 to be so far from London, was it necessary to 
 choose any place on the coast? I knew 
 nothing of the country — of the beautiful and 
 quiet hamlets and villages which were scat- 
 tered within that distance of London. Why, 
 Brookfields did not exceed it ! and the letters 
 of Mrs. Hurst, my late governess, were full 
 of descriptions of the beautiful and pictu- 
 resque scenery of that neighbourhood ! Why 
 not write and consult her on the momentous 
 subject? 1 would do so at once, and the first 
 fruits of my awakened energy was a long 
 letter to this dear fri«Mid. 
 
 02
 
 124 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 I have not before mentioned our governess,^ 
 who had left us a short time previous to my 
 father's death, and though we all rejoiced in 
 her present happiness, yet we deeply regretted 
 the loss of her society. 
 
 Neither Esther nor myself had ever been 
 separated a day from our parents. My father 
 had an insuperable aversion to ladies' schools. 
 He always said, that though girls might 
 acquire accomplishments, they were never 
 really educated in such establishments, that 
 mental culture was wholly overlooked, while 
 the lingers were kept laboriously occupied 
 either on the keys of a piano, or in producing 
 drawings, which, when elaborately finished 
 oiF by the skilled hand of the drawing-master, 
 were sent to the parents as evidences of the 
 pupil's improvement. 
 
 I was seven years old when my mother was 
 fortunate enough to secure the services of an 
 amiable and accomplished woman as our go- 
 verness. Dearly did we all love Miss Pritchard, 
 and when she quitted us to fulfil an engage- 
 ment formed some years before she entered 
 our family, and become the mistress of a
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 125 
 
 pretty parsonage in Berkshire, I was selfish 
 enough to repine at our own deprivation. 
 
 Since her marriage, Mrs. Hurst had corre- 
 sponded regularly with my sister and myself, 
 and I knew how delighted my mother would 
 be if we could obtain our temporary home in 
 the neighbourhood of this beloved friend. 
 
 I did not receive an answer to my letter as 
 speedily as I expected, but when it did arrive 
 its contents amply compensated for the delay. 
 
 "My Dear Nelly — You ask me where you 
 had better choose a home for the next twelve 
 months. The answer is ready for you — come 
 here. By great good fortune there is a pretty 
 house and garden quite ready for your recep- 
 tion, about a mile from the Vicarage. It is plea- 
 santly situated, and, as I have often told you, 
 the neighbourhood is singularly picturesque. 
 
 " I delayed replying to your letter till I 
 had secured the place for you ; you are there- 
 fore at liberty to take possession of * Oakdens' 
 in a fortnight from this day, and I will take 
 care that everything is ready to receive you. 
 
 **Now, Nelly, you cannot object to this
 
 126 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 arrangement. I do not trouble you with the 
 business details, they are such as I am sure 
 Mrs. Travers will approve. Any things which 
 may arrive previous to yourselves I will see 
 properly bestowed. Write and tell what day 
 I may expect to welcome you here, and be- 
 lieve I am 
 
 " Ever, dear Nelly, 
 
 *' Your affectionate friend, 
 " Catherine Hurst." 
 
 My mother and Esther were quite as much 
 delighted as I expected, when acquainted with 
 the contents of this letter. To reside near 
 Mrs. Hurst was a pleasure which I trusted 
 would compensate, in some degree, to the 
 former, for the sacrifice she made of her own 
 wishes in quitting home for my benefit. 
 Esther loved her as dearly as I did, and even 
 Henry respected her so much that he would 
 listen with patient attention to the affectionate 
 remonstrances she occasionally addressed to 
 him, and would be ashamed to meet her 
 when he returned home after one of his 
 transgressions.
 
 MY KLDEST BROTHER. 127 
 
 During the fortnight which preceded our 
 departure from Streiathani, I regained strength 
 so quickly, that I was able to sit up for a few 
 hours daily in my sister's room, to which 
 Martha used to carry me — her great baby, 
 she used laughingly to call me, as she de- 
 posited me in a large chair by the side of my 
 sister's sofa. There I would sit, talking of 
 the new life which was soon to open for us, 
 and watching with admiration her busy fingers 
 as they fashioned lace and muslin into the 
 quaint, neat caps which shaded the kind face 
 of my dear, kind nurse, who never wore any 
 but those Esther manufactured for her. Then 
 my mother would come to us, and consult on 
 various household matters relative both to 
 the home we were quitting and the one we 
 were soon to enter. 
 
 It was arranged that Susan, who had lived 
 several years with us, should be left in charge 
 of the house, and that her father, who was 
 the gardener, was to sleep in it during our 
 absence. Should Henry return, she was to 
 provide everything necessary for his comfort, 
 and immediately lo apprise Mr. I^ancester of
 
 128 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 the fact, but she was strictly enjoined to give 
 him no clue to our new residence. Tiiis my 
 mother was with great difficulty brought to 
 agree to. 
 
 Why should not her son join his family 
 when he again wished to form a part of it? 
 But Mr. Lancester was firm in his resolve 
 that my brother should be kept in ignorance 
 of our abode till he had seen him, and dis- 
 covered how, and with whom, he had passed 
 the time since he had quitted his home. 
 
 This circumstance was a great blessing to 
 me. I seemed to breathe new life with the 
 knowledge that he could not, without my 
 being warned of his approach, enter our new 
 home, and carry desolation and misery with 
 his presence. I always thought it was some 
 hint from Martha which caused Mr. Lancester 
 to resist my mother's wishes on this point, 
 and I w as very grateful for the wisdom shown 
 by her in giving it. 
 
 It was a lovely evening, on the second day 
 after our departure from Streatham, that we 
 arrived at Brookfields. Esther had borne 
 the journey bravely, and I had gathered
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 129 
 
 health and cheerfulness with every mile that 
 we travelled, but my mother, now that the 
 necessity for exertion was over, looked worn 
 and unhappy, and I knew that, much as she 
 loved Esther and myself, she would have pre- 
 ferred remaining solitary at home, awaiting 
 Henry's return. 
 
 G 5
 
 130 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A MONTH after my arrival at Brookfields, I 
 was perfectly well. It was no physical ma- 
 lady which had retarded my progress to 
 health. It was the secret dread of Henry's 
 returning as a thief in the night, bringing 
 with him that fearful woman, which occasioned 
 me to remain for months a wretched, nervous 
 creature; and when, thanks to Mr. Lan- 
 cester's wise precautions, this terrible fear 
 was removed, I recovered health and spirits 
 in a marvellous manner. 
 
 I have never known such perfect happiness 
 as that I experienced during the first weeks 
 of our residence at Brookfields. No one but 
 those who have lived for years in the constant 
 anticipation of some great and sudden cala-
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. ISl 
 
 mity, and then, like me, been unexpectedly 
 relieved from the dread of its appearance, 
 can appreciate the blessed feelings of peace 
 and security I now enjoyed. 
 
 But this brightness was not destined to 
 continue. It was not long before I saw with 
 dismay that my mother was drifting slowly, 
 but surely, back into the listless melancholy 
 from which Henry's misconduct and my 
 illness had roused her. The necessity for 
 exertion past, she no longer appeared to take 
 interest in anything around her. 
 
 Alarmed at this threatened evil, I con- 
 sulted our friend, Mrs. Hurst, on the painful 
 subject, and entreated her to devise some 
 methoil of arresting its approach. 
 
 " She must have some occupation provided 
 for her mind, Nelly," was the answer I re- 
 ceived. " You have told me that you had 
 never known her either so well or cheerful 
 as during the time you required her constant 
 attention. Does not that fact point out 
 what remedies must be applied now ? I do 
 not wish you to bo ill again in ovdov to 
 supply healthful employment to her mind,
 
 132 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 but it is essential some means should be de- 
 vised to interest it. Her thoughts, I believe, 
 are wholly occupied with the past and future 
 — of the one she cannot reflect without 
 sorrow, on the other without apprehension. 
 We must get her to live in the present ; and 
 I will consult with one whom you know I 
 consider the wisest of mankind, how this 
 may be best accomplished." 
 
 I have not yet spoken of Mr. Hurst. I 
 know not indeed how to convey a faint idea 
 of his character. 
 
 At the time we arrived at Brooktields he 
 was forty-six years of age; tall, athletic, 
 and, to my idea, the very handsomest man I 
 had ever beheld. Yet, when I confided my 
 opinion respecting his personal appearance to 
 his wife, she laughingly replied — 
 
 " Handsome ! Why, Nelly, he has not a 
 good feature in his face ! " 
 
 I did not attempt to dispute this assertion. 
 I only knew that he had the kindest and 
 brightest of blue eyes, and that his smile was 
 the sweetest, and the expression of his face 
 the most benevolent I had ever gazed on.
 
 MY 1'LDI.ST BKOTIIi:U. 13;} 
 
 He was the kindest, the most patient, the 
 least selfish of human beings. Malevolence 
 itself couM not throw one shaft from its 
 poisoned quiver at Philip Hurst. Even the 
 poor people in the village, those most inve- 
 terate of grumblers, used to declare that 
 ** The very sight of t' parson did 'em good," 
 wheu sickness or want of employment de- 
 prived them of the power of working for 
 their daily bread. 
 
 But the Vicar was a stern reprover of the 
 vices of his parishioners : the poacher, the 
 <lrunkard, the Sabbath-breaker, were not 
 allowed to sin in ignorance of their guilt. 
 Undeterred by dangers, undaunted by difli- 
 culties, would that zealous servant of God 
 endeavour to bring the erring members of his 
 flock to the paths of honest labour; and 
 when, by kindness, by persuasion, by untiring 
 love and charity, he succeeded, how did the 
 heart of the good shepherd rejoice over those 
 he had brought into his fold. 
 
 Yet Mr. Hurst was nothing of an ascetic ; 
 he thought, with Cowper, '* that true piety 
 was cheerful as the day." He was a pro-
 
 134 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 inoter of all harmless merriment; a great 
 advocate for cricket matches, harvest suppers, 
 and school festivals : and at all such rustic 
 gatherings the parson's happy laugh was 
 sure to he heard, the parson's benevolence 
 sure to be exercised. The neighbouring 
 clergy used to whisper among themselves 
 that Hurst was a great deal too lax in his 
 parish, a great deal too familiar with the 
 labouring classes ; that it was carrying hu- 
 mility a little too far to stop and shake 
 the hands of all the sick and aged poor 
 whom he met in his walks or rides; and 
 that a man might be a very good Christian 
 without exactly speaking to a pauper as if he 
 was an equal. 
 
 Brookfields was the native place of Mr. 
 Hurst : he had been born in the Vicarage, 
 where, for more than fifty years, his father 
 had resided. For some years before his death, 
 the venerable pastor had been unable to per- 
 form the duties of his sacred office. His son 
 — an only child — officiated as his curate, and, 
 by his love and devotion, clieered the de- 
 clining years of the good man's life. When
 
 MY ELDEST HUOTIIER. 135 
 
 he (lied, a memorial was addressed to the 
 dean and chapter of the diocese, who had 
 the disposal of the vacant benefice, praying 
 it nii<^ht be bestowed on the son of the late 
 vicar. 
 
 This petition was signed by nearly all the 
 inhabitants of the parish : rich and poor 
 were alike anxious it should be granted. 
 
 Philip Hurst was ignorant of the measures 
 taken by the parishioners for his benefit ; 
 and it was with feelings of wonder and de- 
 light he received the intimation that he was 
 the new vicar of Brookfields. 
 
 Now the hope of twelve long years might 
 be realised, and he was in a position to claim 
 .Jane Pritchard as a wife. Ilis aged mother 
 was still living; and it was one of the 
 happiest circumstances connected with his 
 unexpected good fortune, that she had not 
 to remove from the home where she had 
 spent nearly fifty years of her exemplary 
 life. 
 
 Mrs. Philip llurst loved and venerated her 
 husband's mother, and there was no fear that 
 her continued residence in her son's house
 
 136 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 would ever give rise to the dissensions and 
 jealousies which too frequently attend such a 
 domestic arrangement. 
 
 I think I never beheld a more pleasant 
 object than that lady presented, the first time 
 I was admitted into the pretty, bay-win- 
 dowed room exclusively appropriated to her 
 use, and into which no person entered with- 
 out special invitation from its mistress. She 
 must have been very lovely in her youth, and 
 still retained traces of beauty in the delicate, 
 transparent complexion and fine unruffled 
 brow, shaded by hair of that silvery whiteness 
 which so agreeably softens the deep lines in 
 an aged face. She had the same bright smile 
 and musically happy laugh as her son ; and, 
 like him, was a welcome guest in every cottage 
 in the parish. Dressed always in black silk, 
 and her face shaded by neat close caps of 
 delicate lace, she was to be found, from an 
 early hour in the morning, seated by the old- 
 fashioned casement, busily employed in making 
 articles of clothing for some of her favourites 
 in the village schools. Whenever the weather 
 would permit, her wheeled chair was brought
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 137 
 
 to the door, in which she would make the 
 circuit of the parish, sto|)|)ing at .every liouse 
 where sickness or sorrow of any kind required 
 her advice or assistance. 
 
 Though she was respected and beloved by 
 every one in the place, even by that unfor- 
 tunate, and sometimes formidable, class called, 
 in a secluded country village, " roughs," she 
 was, to some extent, feared by those who were 
 idle and thriftless. 
 
 " Now, Polly Jackson," said she one day, 
 when I had the privilege of walking beside 
 her chair, " what brings you back from the 
 place I procured for you in Reading? " 
 
 Polly Jackson, a great, awkward girl of 
 sixteen, stood with one finger in her mouth, 
 gazing at the stern face of the questioner, 
 but without rej)lying to her. Her mother 
 came to the assistance of the delinquent. 
 
 *' Please, ma'am, she was weak-like and 
 wanted a rest." 
 
 ** Wanted a rest, indeed ! Why don't you 
 tell the truth, and say she wanted a holiday." 
 
 " Well, sure," said Polly, encouraged by 
 her mother's support, ** and don't a holiday
 
 1 38 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 do a body more good than doctor's stuff? I 
 am sure you said so last autumn when you 
 let Nancy Springett go home for a month." 
 
 " You are an incorrigible, idle girl. That's 
 what you are Polly ! Drive on, Dick ! " 
 
 This command was issued to the boy who 
 drew the chair. 
 
 " Now, my dear," said my venerable friend, 
 as we slowly descended the hill which led to 
 the " town," " I will give you a bit of advice. 
 You may at some future day be mistress of a 
 home in a country-place such as this ; if so, 
 never engage a servant who has left her place 
 because she feels ' weak-like.' The martins 
 will not more surely leave the eaves of your 
 house in autumn, than girls like Polly 
 Jackson ' give missus warning,' as soon as 
 they have earned sufficient to lay in a little 
 stock of finery to excite the admiration and 
 envy of their less fortunate companions. 
 That girl remained but six months in the 
 respectable and comfortable situation which, 
 with no little trouble, I succeeded in ob- 
 taining for her." 
 
 To this lady I confided all my apprehensions
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 139 
 
 respecting my mother, :ind, to my ^^roat 
 sorrow, slie expressed her opinion that no- 
 thin«r hut some sudden necessity for exertion 
 wouhl prove efiectual to check the progress 
 of the torpor which was gradually stealing 
 over her mental powers. 
 
 This anxiety for my mother was speedily 
 removed, but by an event which occasioned 
 the deepest distress to myself. 
 
 A letter from Mr. Lancester informed her 
 that Henry had visited his home, and finding 
 it deserted, had jjone to him for information 
 respecting his family. " He had," said our 
 informant, ** formed some plans for his future 
 career, which he would not explain to him.'* 
 And he urged my mother to at once hasten 
 to London, and ascertain for herself the extent 
 of her son's wishes, and her own ability and 
 inclination for enabling them to be carried 
 into effect. 
 
 My dear mother ! how her sweet face 
 briirhtened as she read of the safety of the 
 beloved prodigal. Now the mists which liad 
 settled over her heart cleare<l away, and the 
 sunshine of hope once more entered it, as she
 
 140 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 prepared to follow Mr. Lancester's advice to 
 proceed to London, and give her erring son 
 the means of hreaking through the toils in 
 which he had been long enmeshed. 
 
 It was arranged for Martha to accompany 
 my mother, and that Mrs. Hurst would re- 
 main with Esther and myself during their 
 absence. 
 
 " God bless you, my dear children ! " were 
 her last w^ords before her departure. " I 
 shall soon return to you and bring Henry 
 with me." 
 
 How little could she imagine ray anguish 
 as I heard the words ? For me peace and 
 happiness were over, and again I was the 
 victim of the nervous horrors which bad 
 formerly rendered my life a burthen. 
 
 For two days we heard nothing from my 
 mother ; then there came a letter that was 
 one wail of affliction. 
 
 Henry had been ill, was involved in debts 
 and difficulties, from which her duty to her 
 other children would not allow her to ex- 
 tricate him ; and unless she did so, he 
 threatened to leave her for ever — to quit
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 1 1 1 
 
 the country, and throw himself without friends 
 or resources on a foreii^ni hind. 
 
 My heart heat with in(li<^nation as I read 
 that record of my mother's sufferings. Ought 
 I not to interfere? and, hy telling her of 
 Henry's baseness, turn her affection into 
 horror against the murderer of her husband 
 — the midnight spoiler of her own property — 
 the associate of the wretch who had nearly 
 deprived myself of existence ! 
 
 Esther was unable to account for the rest- 
 less state of excitement in which I passed 
 those wretched days. Each post brought us 
 letters from my mother or Mr. Lancester ; and 
 one of them at last promised to release me 
 from all my terrors. It contained the blessed 
 intelligence that Henry's passage was taken 
 in a vessel bound for Canada: furnished by my 
 mother with ample funds, and, through the 
 interest of Mr. Lancester, with letters of 
 introduction to those in the colony who could 
 aid him in his wish to become a settler there, 
 he was to start, with every advantage the 
 love and care of a mother could i)rovide, in 
 the new race he was to run.
 
 142 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 One thing occasioned great pain to my 
 mother — he would leave England without 
 bidding farewell to his brothers and sisters. 
 '* The time was too short," he said, " to 
 allow him to do so, as every moment was 
 occupied in preparations for his departure." 
 
 Hope and dread struggled together in my 
 heart as I read this letter. Henry away from 
 England ! No more doubts and fears re- 
 specting him ; no longer to live in appre- 
 hension of his suddenly appearing among us ; 
 of seeing my mother languishing in sorrow on 
 his account ; to have the knowledge that the 
 dark curtain had vanished from our home, 
 and that tranquillity and hope might dwell 
 unchecked within it, was such a new state 
 of existence, that no wonder I could not 
 believe in its reality ! And that all these 
 mercies would be mine without the painful 
 necessity of meeting my brother, added to 
 my joy and gratitude, for how could I 
 have done so, without shrinking with horror 
 from his Judas-like caresses, and thus wound 
 the heart of his mother by showing my 
 abhorrence of her beloved son ?
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 143 
 
 I never experienced more iinxiety than I 
 did at this period of my life. Although each 
 (hiy brought letters detailing the preparations 
 made for his departure, I could not believe 
 but that something would occur to prevent 
 it ; that at the eleventh hour some obstacle 
 would interpose, or that he himself would 
 refuse to quit the country. 
 
 At length came the joyful news that the 
 day — nay, the very hour — was fixed on which 
 my mother was to bid him farewell on board 
 the vessel, in which he was to cross the 
 Atlantic. It was to be in the afternoon of 
 the twelfth of August. It was the eighth 
 on which I received this letter; four days 
 more, and hope would be changed into blessed 
 certainty ! With feverish eagerness, I counted 
 the hours as they dragged heavily away; and 
 when the clock struck the one on which he 
 was to embark, the excitement of the last few 
 weeks reached its climax, and, with an hyste- 
 rical scream, I fell lifeless on the floor !
 
 144 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 For several days after my mother's return, I 
 was too ill to learn the particulars respecting 
 Henry's departure. When well enough to 
 listen, she told me, unasked, all I required to 
 know. He had sailed at the appointed time, 
 in good health and high spirits, confident of 
 success in his new career, and apparently 
 grateful to her who had supplied all his wants 
 with a bountiful hand. 
 
 " We shall hear from him soon," added my 
 mother, when she had spoken of the farewell 
 on board the vessel. " God grant he may 
 prosper in the path he has chosen ! But, oh ! 
 Nelly, it was with a bitter pang that I 
 parted with my first-born, most probably for 
 ever."
 
 M\ KLDEST DKOTIIKR. 145 
 
 She \\c\n a^ slic uttertMl the words, and I 
 felt a guilty thrill in my lieart at the con- 
 sciousness that she would shrink from me in 
 horror, could she know the joy ^^itll which it 
 was filled hy the event which occasioned such 
 anguish to herself. 
 
 We were now in daily expectation of a 
 visit from Mr. Lancester, accompanied by his 
 son, and I hoped their society would prove 
 beneficial to my mothers spirits. Some of 
 the old jealousy of my nature was beginning 
 to a})pear, and I often thought harshly of her, 
 when (lay after day passed, and she still 
 mourned as one who would not he comforted, 
 at the absence of my unworthy brother. 
 Sometimes I resolved savagely to acquaint 
 her with the j)roofs of his iniquity I had 
 hitherto sedulously kept from her knowledge. 
 Thank God I I never committed that wicked 
 act. 
 
 At the time I was fiercely wrestling with 
 my evil nature, our friends arrived, and by 
 their presence dispelled the gloom which 
 rested over our home. 
 
 Gcrahl Laiic.'v;tiM- wii^ tli-' only son of our 
 
 VOL. I. II
 
 146 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 friend, and we had known and loved him 
 from infancy. He was a few years older 
 than Henry, and shortly after he had attained 
 his one-and-twentieth year, passed the neces- 
 sary examinations to enable him to practice 
 as a surgeon, and shortly after obtained the 
 appointment of assistant-surgeon in a regi- 
 ment on the eve of departing for India, 
 where he had remained for the last six years : 
 he had just arrived in England on sick leave. 
 
 Gerald had not much altered during his 
 absence ; he was more manly in appearance, 
 and his once fair complexion was bronzed by 
 the tropical sun he had been so long under, 
 but his voice was as sweet, and his laugh as 
 frank and merry, as when the night before 
 his departure he had, at our urgent request, 
 exhibited himself in his new uniform, and 
 received — half-laughing, half- ashamed — the 
 compliments I liberally bestowed on his 
 splendid appearance. 
 
 He novf pretended not to recognise me, 
 but declared the Nelly Travers he had known 
 was a little fat girl, with a turned-up nose 
 and red hair, and that six years could
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 147 
 
 not have transformed her into a tall, sli^rht 
 vounc: h\(\\\ with riiijrlets the colour of a 
 chesnut, and a nose hurable enough to bend 
 towards her mouth, instead of endeavouring 
 to reach her eyes. 
 
 Gerald had left England just before Esther's 
 dreadful accident, and therefore thought of 
 her only as a lovely, graceful girl, full of 
 health and animation. She was indeed still 
 lovely, but it was beauty of such a fragile 
 and touching nature, that it brought tears 
 into the eyes of those who gazed on it for the 
 first time. 
 
 "Is she not sadly altered?" asked my 
 mother, as she followed Gerald from the room 
 after his first interview with the poor girl. 
 
 ** She was always beautiful," answered he, 
 with emotion, ** but I could never have 
 imagined loveliness so exquisite as that she 
 now possesses. It is terrible to think of 
 such a creature, destined to live without 
 even the hope that means may be devised 
 for her relief; surely — surely, Mrs. Travers 
 — some method should be adopted for her 
 recovery !" 
 
 U 2
 
 1 48 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 " They would be all in vain," said my 
 mother, sadl3^ " The eminent surgeons who 
 constantly attended her for many months 
 after the accident, assured us that any reme- 
 dies which might be used would have the 
 effect of causing the return of the frightful 
 spasmodic cramps from which she long suf- 
 fered. They said it was better she should 
 remain tranquil and free from pain, than be 
 agitated by hopes that could never be realized, 
 and tortured by experiments which could 
 result only in failures." 
 
 The arrival of our friends rendered our home 
 more cheerful than it had been since my father's 
 death. The receipt of a few lines from Henry, 
 written in a cheerful and hopeful spirit, 
 shortly after his arrival at Montreal, had 
 removed, at least for a time, my mother's 
 uneasiness respecting his welfare; while Esther, 
 interested and amused by the spirited details 
 of Indian life and society which Gerald re- 
 lated, was heard to laugh as merrily as she 
 did when she beheld him, the night before he 
 left England, patiently stand, at my com-
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 149 
 
 raand, that I ini-ht adiiiiiv the glories of his 
 regiinentiil custinne. 
 
 As for my own feelinp^s at this time, I used 
 to wonder at them, and accuse myself of in- 
 sensibility for being so happy, when I had so 
 many painful subjects for reflection. My 
 motlier's feeble health — Esther's hopeless 
 condition — the recollection of Henry's wicked 
 conduct — were all things to sadden my present 
 tranquillity ; yet I could not help feeling as 
 if misfortune had abandoned us, and peace 
 and joy become permanent inhabitants of our 
 dwelling. And I was right in thinking some 
 blessing was about to be bestowed — one of 
 the greatest which God could vouchsafe me. 
 Gerald had confided to me, as a surgeon, his 
 belief that Esther might, if pro])er means 
 were employed, rise from the bed, where, for 
 six years, she had Iain without hope, and 
 take her place again amongst us. I was 
 utterly incredulous when he first expressed 
 this opinion. 
 
 ** I do not pledge myself, Nelly,*' answered 
 he, in reply to my doubts, ** that Esther will 
 ever perfectly recover, but from all I have
 
 150 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 gleaned from Martha, I am convinced her 
 spine has not received the serious injury Mr. 
 
 L imagined, and that under a different 
 
 mode of treatment she will ultimately be 
 restored to some degree of health. I only 
 wonder she has survived such long confine- 
 ment to one room ; but she must eventually 
 sink under such a regimen. The first steps 
 taken must be to improve the tone of her 
 general health, and the best tonics to be ad- 
 ministered are hope and fresh air. If allowed 
 to try the effects of these stimulants on her 
 system for some little time, I would boldly 
 adopt other measures. Do try, Nelly, if you can 
 gain your mother's permission for me to so far 
 exert my medical skill. Why should she not 
 be moved daily from her own room to the 
 one adjoining it, which appears only used as 
 a receptacle for lumber? Trifling as such a 
 change may seem to you, it would be of in- 
 calculable benefit to that poor imprisoned 
 girl. Use your influence with your mother 
 to effect this first step towards our object." 
 
 '' I fear," answered I, " that Esther herself 
 will raise more objections to your plan than
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 151 
 
 my mother. She entertains such fearful 
 recollections of the agony she sullered when 
 under medical treatment, that she has always 
 said she was contented to remain in her 
 present crippled state, if she could be free 
 from their repetition." 
 
 "She need know nothing of our plans, 
 Nelly," persisted the young surgeon. '' Only 
 let your mother give us her sanction, and do 
 not fear for the result." 
 
 With a great deal of persuasion my mother 
 was induced to give her permission for Gerald 
 to try his experiment. And as soon as it was 
 obtained we all set heartily to work to trans- 
 form the lumber-room into a pretty boudoir. 
 
 It was part of Gerald's plan that Esther 
 should be kept in ignorance of his intentions. 
 She was not to be agitated with either hopes 
 or fears till the first step was gained — her 
 being safely conveyed into the adjoining room. 
 
 It was a labour of love to all of us to get 
 it ])rettily arranged. Mrs. Hurst chose the 
 carpet, and had it fitted, Martha and I made 
 the curtains, and Gerald hung the ])retty, 
 bright-patterned paper, he had chosen for the
 
 152 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 walls, while Mr. Hurst brought from the 
 Vicarage some of his most treasured volumes, 
 to scatter on sofa and tables, and his mother 
 lent some rare and beautiful china to orna- 
 ment the mantelpiece and brackets. 
 
 I think we all felt delighted when, our 
 labours completed, we looked round the 
 pretty, cheerful room, we had so industriously 
 worked at. The morning following its com- 
 pletion, the experiment, at once longed for 
 and dreaded, was to be made. Mrs. Hurst 
 had promised to be with us when the moment 
 arrived, and we were all assembled in Esther's 
 room at the hour it was customary for Martha 
 to place her on her couch by the window. 
 
 "I don't know the reason, good people," 
 cried she, cheerfully, as we stood round her 
 bed, " why you come into the room before 
 the usual hour of my receptions ; but some- 
 thing extraordinary appears, as the country 
 people say, *to be up.' Pray admire the pink 
 ribbons with which my cap and gown are 
 decorated, and then, if Martha is quite ready, 
 I shall be glad if she will carry me to the 
 window."
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 153 
 
 Martha lookod nervously at my mother, 
 who, pale as Esther, stood at the foot of the 
 bed. I saw that what was to be done must 
 be done promptly, and said, " Yes, be quick, 
 Martha ; and, Esther, as Gerald has a little 
 surprise for you under the window, I shall 
 not allow you to catch a glimpse of it till 
 you are on the sofii." 
 
 As I spoke, I enveloped her head in a light 
 shawl, and the next moment she was in 
 Martha's arms, who carried her light burthen 
 so quickly, that she was unconscious of the 
 chancre till the coverin'^ was removed from 
 her face. For a moment we were frightened 
 by the wild look of astonishment that passed 
 over it, as she gazed at the novel scene, as if 
 in doubt of its reality. 
 
 The cheerful voice of Mrs. Ilurst was the 
 first to break the silence. " My dear Esther, 
 welcome to your fairy palace ; and here 
 comes the magician vou must thank for 
 it.'* 
 
 Gerald, who was watching from the door 
 the eflfects of his scheme, now advanced to 
 Esther, and taking her hand, begg(»d h.T to 
 
 II J
 
 154 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 pardon him, if her removal had distressed or 
 alarmed her. 
 
 " God bless you !" she answered, " for all 
 your kindness to the poor crippled girl, and 
 believe how grateful she is for this proof of 
 your anxiety to afford her pleasure. Why, I 
 shall dream to-night that I am well again, 
 and able to take my place amongst you as 
 formerly ; and then," she added, with a deep 
 sigh, " awake to find myself helpless and 
 dependent as ever." 
 
 Gerald's voice faltered as he replied, 
 " Esther, remember the words of Him who 
 gave sight to the blind, and feet to the lame, 
 'All things are possible to him that believes.' "
 
 MY ELDEST BROTUER. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 From the day Esther was allowed to hope, a 
 marked improvement became visible in her 
 health ; before the expiration of a fortnight 
 she was carried down stairs, and placed in a 
 curious, but comfortable, wheeled couch, which 
 Gerald had had constructed under his own 
 personal superintendence by the village car- 
 penter. 
 
 With this new stimulus for the energies 
 of my mother, her own health and spirits 
 seemed rapidly to improve. 
 
 Esther appeared now the one object in 
 which her hopes were centered ; and, from 
 regarding Gerald with feelings almost of dis- 
 like, as an impudent pretender to medical 
 science, she went to the other extreme, and
 
 156 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 considered him endowed with almost super- 
 human skill. 
 
 Certainly my sister's marked improvement 
 gave us every confidence in his assurances 
 of complete ultimate recovery. Every day 
 the weather would permit, she spent some 
 hours in the open air ; and, thanks to Gerald's 
 admirable contrivance, she had made ac- 
 quaintance with every part of the village of 
 Brookfields. At first she had a great ob- 
 jection to being gazed at by those she en- 
 countered, but this feeling soon wore off, and 
 she took pleasure in conversing with the 
 children who lingered in the road when 
 they saw the sick lady's "funny" carriage 
 approaching. She speedily, too, became a 
 great friend and ally of the elder Mrs. Hurst ; 
 and side by side did the wheeled chair of the 
 aged and the couch of the youthful invalid 
 perambulate the shady lanes and quiet roads 
 of the pretty village. 
 
 " I have a favour to ask of you," said Mrs. 
 Philip Hurst, one day in October, to my 
 mother. "To-morrow is the eighty-second 
 birthday of my husband's mother, and we
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 157 
 
 wish you to honour it by spending it iit the 
 Vicaniire. GeniM tells me the exertion will 
 do Esther no harm ; and I have a room ready 
 for INIartha and her for the night, as he thinks 
 it would be imprudent for her to be out after 
 sunset. Now, don't decline — which I see you 
 are about to do — till I have spoken to Esther. 
 Would you like it, my dear ? " 
 
 " Very much," replied my sister, frankly. 
 
 " Then I will not accept mamma's denial. 
 We shall expect you to luncheon, and after 
 that you must be wheeled into the church, 
 and inspect the monuments you have often 
 expressed a wish to see." 
 
 It was a Gfreat treat for me at all times to 
 spend a day at the Vicarage; but to be 
 accompanied there by Esther, was a delight 
 I had never anticipated. To show her all 
 the wonders of i\Ir. Hurst's study ; to open, 
 as I knew he would allow me, the drawers of 
 his cabinet, and exhibit the collection of 
 minerals he valued so highly ; above all, to 
 see her reclining by the side of his venerable 
 mother, listening to the stories of past times, 
 which gave such pleasure to myself, was an
 
 158 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 amount of happiness I could hardly bring 
 myself to believe in. 
 
 The early years of the elder Mrs. Hurst 
 had been passed in the " great city," where 
 her father had for a long period held a 
 curacy. From infancy she had been familiar 
 with stories connected with his ministry ; and 
 these she related with such graphic fidelity, 
 that I, for a time was " transported beyond 
 this ignorant present," and lived amidst the 
 scenes invoked by the memory of my aged 
 friend. 
 
 I felt sure Esther would delight in these 
 old-world stories as much as I did. What 
 past events should I ask to have conjured up 
 for the benefit of my sister? She was not, 
 like me, fascinated by tales of gloom and 
 horror. She would feel no pleasure in hearing 
 of Lord Ferrers proceeding to his execution 
 in a coach and six, dressed in his wedding 
 suit of white and silver ; for the reason, as 
 he stated, that if he had never been married 
 he should never have been hanged ; of the 
 levity he displayed throughout the slow pro- 
 gress of that fearful journey, impeded as it
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 159 
 
 was by the enormous crowd who flocked to 
 witness the execution of a " lord " ; and of 
 the stern rebuke administered to him by the 
 chaphiin who attended him. 
 
 Neither would she care to hear of the 
 fearful scenes witnessed, when a child, by the 
 venerable narrator, when London was in the 
 hands of a ferocious mob, which, under 
 the plea of religious excitement, committed 
 frightful atrocities on the lives and property 
 of the peaceful citizens. 
 
 No ; she would shrink with terror from 
 scenes like these. But she would like to 
 hear of the day when the **Good King," in 
 state procession, but humility of heart, went 
 to St. Paul's for the purpose of thanking 
 Almighty God for his restoration to reason. 
 Of the crowds which thronged the streets 
 through which he passed ; and of the deep, 
 heartfelt " God bless your Majesty," uttered 
 as by one voice, by the countless thousands 
 who that day, with tears of joy, hailed their 
 beloved sovereign. 
 
 It was not that I was ignorant of many of 
 the events I heard from Mrs. Hurst. I had
 
 1 60 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 read of them as historical facts, but it was 
 with very different feelings I listened to their 
 recital from the lips of one who had either 
 witnessed them herself or lived from child- 
 hood with those who had been actors in the 
 scenes ; and I did not doubt Esther would 
 hear them with the same interest as myself. 
 
 I knew that our present happy life must 
 soon be over, that Mr. Lancester and Gerald 
 would leave us in a few days ; and then I 
 feared — all anxiety for Esther past — my 
 mother would become the victim of gloomy 
 doubts and apprehensions on account of the 
 long silence of Henry. Only once had we 
 heard from him since he left England ; and 
 in the eagerness my mother expressed each 
 mornino^ for the arrival of the letter-baof, 
 I beheld, with certainty, the return of her 
 uneasiness for her son. 
 
 But these thino^s should not be thouofht of 
 on the morrow. Esther's first visit should be 
 marked with a white stone, and no dread of 
 the future should stain its purity. 
 
 We went to the Vicarage a.t the appointed 
 time, and happily the day passed away.
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 1 Gl 
 
 Esther, perhaps, had the p^reatest amount of 
 pleasure, for to her all had the charm of 
 novelty. In the afternoon she was taken 
 into the church. That old building was a 
 noted place for tourists, and very seldom 
 during the summer did a day elapse without 
 bringing strangers to inspect it. On that 
 account Esther had never before entered it ; 
 as she was morbidly sensitive respecting 
 being gazed at as she lay helpless on her 
 mattress. That day, fortunately, proved an 
 exception to the rule, and my dear sister 
 was not annoyed by the inquisitive gaze of 
 holiday sight-seers. 
 
 The church well deserved its reputation, 
 although but a fragment of the original 
 edifice. It must at one time not only have 
 been of great extent, but of considerable 
 importance, for it had been chosen as the 
 final resting-place of many of the Knight 
 Templars, whose effigies still remained in the 
 aisle and chancel, blocking up, with their 
 large raised tombs, the small portion of the 
 church which was preserved for public 
 worship.
 
 162 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 The exterior of the building was covered 
 with ivy ; from the very summit of the square 
 tower to the ground there was barely an inch 
 of gray stone to be discerned ; and to this 
 beautiful natural protection was to be attri- 
 buted the preservation of so much of the 
 building as remained. 
 
 " I have often been surprised," said Mr. 
 Lancester, as Mr. Hurst was industriously 
 pointing out to him the evidences of its former 
 size, '* that such large churches are frequently 
 met with in secluded districts such as this. 
 The parish has never, that I can learn, 
 been more populated than at present ; and 
 yet when this building was erected it must 
 have been capable of containing ten times the 
 number of those who could have resided 
 within an attainable distance." 
 
 " The piety of our ancestors," replied the 
 Vicar, " if not more sincere, was at least 
 more costly than our own. They appear to 
 have considered more the Majesty of Him to 
 whom their buildings were dedicated, than 
 the number of the worshippers who would 
 assemble within the walls."
 
 MY ELDKST BROTHER. 1G3 
 
 lu the eveninn^ we all assembled for tea in 
 the elder Mrs. Hurst's pretty bittin«,^-rooui ; 
 who insisted, on that occasion, on doing the 
 honours of tlie table. Esther was placed on 
 a sofa by the bright fire, and Gerald, seated 
 by her side, was anxiously inquiring whether 
 she felt much fatigued. 
 
 " Oh, no ! " she answered, in a low voice, 
 ** it has been a day of unmixed pleasure ! 
 How shall I ever be able to thank you, as I 
 ought, for the blessings you have, under God, 
 been the means of conferring on me ? When 
 I think of the hours I have passed this day, 
 and contrast them with those which for six 
 long years dragged wearily and hopelessly 
 away, I feel as if I must be the most insen- 
 sible of human beings not to be able better 
 to express the gratitude which fills my 
 heart ! " 
 
 " Hush, Esther ! " was the wliispered reply. 
 " Do not thank me for conferring such great 
 happiness on myself. To see you restored to 
 health, is one of the two earthly blessings I 
 pray God to grant me ! "
 
 164 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 At this moment the cheerful voice of Mrs. 
 Philip Hurst was heard — 
 
 " Come, young people, you are all much 
 too quiet ! I think we had better push the 
 table up to Esther's corner, and have a round 
 game to make us merry." 
 
 " Is card-playing allowed at the Vicarage ?" 
 asked Mr. Lancester. 
 
 " My dear sir, anything is allowed at the 
 Vicarage that is allowed in other sober, 
 orderly places. Why not ? Philip does not 
 love his duty less for liking a game of whist, 
 chess, or backgammon ! I believe some very 
 far-sighted people can perceive a distinction 
 between playing with bits of painted wood 
 and painted paper, and will spend hours over 
 a chess-board, though they groan at the 
 mention of cards. I must own my eyes are 
 not so keen ! " 
 
 " But, Mrs. Hurst," said I, " if Mr. Lan- 
 cester has any prejudices regarding playing 
 cards in a vicarage, pray let us respect them. 
 Mr. Hurst promised to light up the cosmo- 
 rama to-night, and I am sure we shall all 
 prefer it either to loo or vingt-et-une. Besides,
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 165 
 
 I am impiiticnt to behold Mr. Ilamlyn's 
 famous i)icture." 
 
 Now this cosmorama was the one hohhy of 
 the good Vicar. His favourite amusement 
 was painting in oil colours; and, as his 
 pictures were small, he had constructed a 
 vehicle in which to exhibit to the best ad- 
 vantage the fruits of his industry. 1 did not 
 in the least understand how it was managed, 
 but, bv lookiuQ^ through glasses, which re- 
 sembled the bulls'-eyes of a lantern, the 
 pictures were magnified to an astonishing 
 degree. 
 
 He delighted most in depicting naval en- 
 ffaffements, which I thouij^ht rather curious 
 subjects for the pencil of a man of peace ; 
 but he justified his choice by saying they 
 were more effective than any other when 
 viewed through the bulls'-eyes. These mag- 
 nifiers were placed in a very elegant-looking 
 piece of cabinet work, which I, at first sight, 
 mistook for the model of a sedan chair. I 
 had been frequently favoured by a sight of 
 the battles of the Nile and Copenhagen, the 
 death of Nelson, and the other celebrated
 
 166 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 engagements which it was the delight of the 
 reverend artist to portray ; but there was one 
 picture, the pride of his collection, which he 
 had frequently promised to show me as soon 
 as it was returned from London, where it had 
 been sent to have some accidental injury 
 repaired. It was the work of an artist-friend 
 of Mr. Hurst, painted expressly for the cos- 
 raorama some years previously, when Mr. 
 Hamlyn was a guest at the Vicarage ; and as 
 it had, I knew, arrived from town the previous 
 day, I claimed the fulfilment of the promise I 
 had received. 
 
 When the lights were properly arranged in 
 the cosmoraraa, Mr. Hurst invited me to have 
 the first view of the restored picture. 
 
 The subject was Jezebel instructing Ahab 
 how to obtain the vineyard of Naboth the 
 Jezreelite. 
 
 Ahab was reclining on a couch, and his 
 wicked queen, standing by his side, was 
 pouring into his willing ears the scheme by 
 which he might seize the inheritance of his 
 poor subject. 
 
 I was no judge of art ; but, as I looked at
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 167 
 
 this picture, I felt it was by a very difTercnt 
 artist to the one who had composed the 
 famous sea-fights with which I was so well 
 acquainted. 
 
 The first glance fascinated my attention. 
 The figure of the cruel queen of Israel was 
 the object which immediately rivetted the 
 eye of the spectator. 
 
 Gorgeously attired in Eastern costume, she 
 bent gracefully over the bed of her weak and 
 wicked husband. Her hand was raised in an 
 attitude to excite his attention to her words, 
 while her face beamed with an expression of 
 triumphant and malicious satisfaction, as if 
 she already exulted in the success of her per- 
 fidious stratagem. The face was beautiful, 
 the features perfect in their regularity, but of 
 a decided Eastern type of character. It was 
 wonderful that any art of the i)ainter could 
 have thrown into a countenance so lovely 
 such an expression of ruthless cruelty as 
 was portrayed in liors. 
 
 As I continued to gaze, unable to remove 
 my eyes from the face at once so attractive 
 and repelling, I felt a shudder of horror
 
 168 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 creep over my frame. The beautiful Jezebel 
 resembled exactly, both in feature and ex- 
 pression, the woman whom I had beheld that 
 fatal night with her arm round the neck of 
 my brother. Just that look of fierce ma- 
 lignity did her face wear, as, snatching the 
 knife from the table, she appealed to his re- 
 membrance of the manner in which he had 
 known her use a similar weapon. Pale 
 and trembling, I drew back from the cos- 
 morama. 
 
 ''Well, is it not good?" asked Mr. Hurst, 
 eagerly ; " but you have not half looked at 
 it. Just observe the beauty of that young 
 Jezebel; well might poor Hamlyn wish to 
 paint her in such a character, for she was cut 
 out by nature to play a similar part. She 
 took great delight in sitting for that picture, 
 and when Hamlyn regretted she looked too 
 youthful fully to realize the idea, the young 
 vixen — she was only seventeen at the time — 
 laughed, and said, ' Look at me now,' and 
 she actually did contrive, by throwing that 
 abominably wicked expression into her face,
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 169 
 
 to make herself look half-a-dozen years older 
 than she was." 
 
 " Whose portrait is it?" asked Gerald, who 
 had been looking at it in evident admiration. 
 " T should say it was not a face likely to 
 belong to any village beauty.'' 
 
 " But it really is so," replied Mr. Hurst. 
 '' Have you never noticed the tall, melan- 
 choly-looking woman, who lives with her 
 father at Sandhill Farm ? This Jezebel is her 
 only child ; and when the death of her hus- 
 band, only two yeai-s after her marriage, left 
 her without a home, old Wishart dadlv re- 
 ceived his dauf^hter and frrandchild at tlie 
 farm." 
 
 '* But is that girl in the village now?" 
 asked Gerald, with his eyes still fixed on the 
 painting ; " surely I must have noticed such 
 a face had I ever beheld it." 
 
 " There is a sad tale connected with 
 Hannah Locksley," said Mr. Hurst; '* she 
 left Brookfields some years ago, shortly, in- 
 deed, after Hamlyn painted that portrait, and 
 her mother has never been seen to smile since 
 the day she quitted it." 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 I breathed more freely when I heard who 
 was the original of the picture which had 
 awakened such painful recollections. Trust- 
 ing my imagination had magnified the resem- 
 blance to the woman I had such reason to 
 remember with dread, I again looked at it, 
 and this time persuaded myself I had been 
 deceived. Still, I was too much agitated by 
 the thoughts to which its sigjit had given 
 rise to shake off the depression I felt, and 
 had to plead severe headache to account 
 for my silence during the remainder of the 
 evening. 
 
 Esther and Gerald bestowed the proper 
 amount of admiration on the naval eno-a^jfe- 
 ments, and did not appear to feel any horror 
 at the expression of wickedness on the face 
 of the beautiful Jezebel, which, to my eyes, 
 transformed the loveliness of an angel into 
 that of an evil spirit ; but they had not seen 
 the terrible woman of whom it reminded me 
 and could admire without shuddering as they 
 gazed. 
 
 With my mind filled with painful memories, 
 I accompanied my mother home, and thus the
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 1 ? 1 
 
 day, of which I had resolved no clouds should 
 darken the brightness, (^^^(nl over nio in 
 gloom. 
 
 I arose the next morniuir with hri'diter 
 tlioughts. Why should I l»e wretched he- 
 cause I had seen a face wliich reminded me 
 of one I would willingly forget I had ever 
 beheld ? Henry was beyond the reach of her 
 fatal influence, and it was not probable she 
 would ever again cross my path. 
 
 I did not require to witness the emotion 
 which both patient and surgeon evinced at 
 parting, to assure me of the feelings which 
 had sprung up in the heart of each. I knew 
 well at the time I overheard their whispered 
 conversation in Mrs. Hurst's room, the mean- 
 ing of Gerald's words, that Esther's recovery 
 was one of the two boons he hoped God 
 would vouchsafe him — the other, I felt sure, 
 was dependent on the first being granted. 
 
 When our friends left us, it was arranjjed 
 that I should write to Gerald weekly, and 
 ac(piaint him with all the particulars con- 
 nected with Esther, and he promised us a 
 visit fortnightly, in order that he might him- 
 
 12
 
 172 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 self judge of the progress she was making 
 towards recovery. 
 
 At his third visit he requested her to try 
 if she could stand, supported by his arm. To 
 our great delight, she did so, without pain or 
 difficulty. 
 
 "Now, Esther," cried Gerald, triumphantly, 
 " I have the happiness of telling you that all 
 doubt is at an end. In six months I trust 
 you will be able to walk without support." 
 
 My mother burst into tears when these 
 blessed words were spoken, but Esther for a 
 moment looked as though she did not com- 
 prehend the full meaning of what she heard, 
 and then covered her face with her hands, as 
 if a vision too bright and dazzling to be gazed 
 at was before her. Half frightened at her 
 silence, I was about to speak to her, when, in 
 a broken, trembling voice, she murmured, 
 
 " What return can I make unto the Lord 
 for all the mercies he has vouchsafed towards 
 me? May He grant that the remembrance 
 of them may be for ever before me, and that 
 I may always say from my heart, 'It is good 
 for me that I have been afflicted !' "
 
 .MY ELDEST BROTHER. 1 73 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 As autumn deepened into winter, my spirits 
 became, to some extent, saddened by the 
 dreariness of all around me. Deep fogs rested 
 for days together over the hills, and shrouded 
 every tree and hedge in their misty gloom. 
 Gerald had long forbidden Esther to venture 
 out, and my mother could never be prevailed 
 on to accompany me in the walks she insisted 
 on my taking daily. 
 
 Since the niglit I had seen the portrait of 
 Hannah Locksley, I had taken a strange 
 pleasure in visiting Sandhill Farm, and con- 
 versing with her mother. She was a woman 
 of far superior manners than it is usual to 
 meet with in her rank of life. There was a 
 mournful quietude about her, which gave a
 
 1 74 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 species of refinement both to her speech and 
 actions. I never saw a smile gleam across 
 her face ; its expression was that of pious, 
 humble resignation, to an evil which seemed 
 ever present to her heart. 
 
 Her father was a man approaching eighty 
 years of age, and as restless and impatient as 
 his daughter Was quiet and resigned. He 
 appeared to have but one ruling passion — the 
 love of money — and I soon discovered I was 
 no welcome visitant at the farm unless I ad- 
 ministered to this foible. 
 
 Mrs. Locksley herself always seemed glad 
 when she saw me enter. I could not tell why 
 the idea occurred to me, but I fancied I, in 
 some way, reminded her of her lost daughter. 
 Often she would regard me till her eyes filled 
 with tears, and once I heard her mutter as 
 she gazed, " So like, and yet so different." 
 
 " Who am I like ?" inquired I, impulsively. 
 
 " One that it would be sin to name before 
 you, young lady ;" and the poor mother, over- 
 come by the harshness of her own words, 
 threw her apron over her . head, and wept 
 aloud.
 
 MY ELDEST imOTIIER. 17-^ 
 
 Inexpressibly shocked, I stood irresolute 
 whether to depiirt, or renuiin and try to 
 soothe the ^n-ief my words had called forth. 
 
 Presently removing the covering from her 
 face, she advanced towards me and taking 
 my hands, said, " Pray to God that He may 
 save you from temptation, and though it can 
 never assail you in the form it did my wretched 
 child, yet pray that misconduct of yours may 
 never draw bitter tears from your mother's 
 eyes. But I nee<l not fear it; there is that 
 in your face which tells me you will ever be 
 good and true to your duties." She kissed 
 me tenderly on the forehead, and the next 
 instant the words, "Oh! God, how like, and 
 yet how^ unlike!" broke again from her lips. 
 
 At this moment the old man entered the 
 kitchen. lie looked angrily at his weeping 
 daughter, and then said, gruffly, ** What's this 
 to-do about? What does the young madam 
 want, Hannah ? I s'pose she does want 
 summut ; she wouldn't come taking up folk's 
 time for nought." 
 
 I saw the flush of mingled shame and sor- 
 row that passed over his daughter's cheek at
 
 176 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 his rudeness, and hastened to answer the old 
 man. 
 
 " To be sure I want something, Master 
 Wishart — I want some of your chickens, and 
 hope you will go with me to the meadow and 
 choose them for me." 
 
 The angry look left the farmer's cheek at 
 the prospect of gain, and taking his stick 
 from the corner in which he had placed it 
 when he entered, he said, "Come along, then, 
 and I'll show you the best chickens in the 
 parish ; but they are very dear," added he, 
 with a cunning look ; " chickens is money 
 now, I tell you." 
 
 I suffered him to place his own price on 
 those I selected, and in high good humour he 
 returned with me to the house, where I pulled 
 out my purse to pay for my purchases. 
 
 As I did so, Mrs. Locksley, who had re- 
 covered from the state of a^-itation in which I 
 left her, and was busily engaged in preparing 
 the dinner, said, " How much a couple did 
 you charge the young lady for the chickens, 
 father?" 
 
 "Mind thy own business, Hannah," was
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 177 
 
 the answer, ''and leave rne to mind miiir. 
 The chickens are four shillings a couple, and 
 cheap at the money." 
 
 I had placed a sovereign on the table, and 
 before her father could clutch it, Mrs Locks- 
 ley took it up, and putting it in a little can- 
 vass bag she drew from her pocket, gave ine 
 from the same receptacle fifteen shillings. 
 
 " The chickens are half-a-crown a couple, 
 Miss Ellen ; father has made a mistake. I 
 will send them up to 'Oakdens' in the course 
 of the afternoon ;" and before the old man's 
 wrath had time to explode I had left the 
 house, in compliance with an entreating look 
 from the poor daughter. 
 
 From that time I became a great favourite 
 with Master Wishart. He always a])peared 
 to think he had cheated me out of the dis- 
 puted eighteenpence a couple in the chickens, 
 and looked at me whenever I entered tlir 
 house, with a sort of chuckling complacency, 
 as if exulting in his own j)owers of extortion. 
 
 Gradually I became acquainted with the 
 history of Hannah Locksley, as far as it was 
 known in her native village. 
 
 I r>
 
 1 78 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 A quick, clever child, of remarkable beauty, 
 she was the idol of her grandfather, who from 
 her infancy petted and fostered her every 
 caprice. In vain did her mother endeavour 
 to check the ungovernable temper of her 
 child. The old man would not suffer his 
 darling to be thwarted, and openly encouraged 
 her to rebel against her mother's authority. 
 In consequence of her positive refusal to 
 attend the village school, she reached the age 
 of thirteen without instruction of any kind. 
 To the surprise of all that knew her, she then 
 signified her wish of being placed at a board- 
 ing-school in a neighbouring town, where she 
 remained three years. 
 
 Hannah possessed abilities as well as beauty, 
 and the vanity which caused her to be ashamed 
 of her ignorance, when old enough to com- 
 prehend the disadvantage it might prove to 
 her in after life, was sufficiently powerful to 
 enable her to bear the restraint under which 
 those three years were passed. 
 
 She appeared to have made good use of 
 the time she remained in the polite seminary 
 of the Misses Snatchell, where she frequently
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 1 79 
 
 bore off the prizes from those who had ridiculed 
 her ignorance when she first appeared amongst 
 them, and her superiority over her companions 
 induced her so greatly to over-rate her own 
 acquirements, that she apjdied, shortly after 
 her leaving school, for the situation of go- 
 verness in the family of a lady of rank in the 
 vicinity. To her surprise and indignation, 
 she was politely informed she was not quali- 
 fied for the ofllice. 
 
 This was a great blow to the proud, vain 
 girl, and from that time she abandoned all 
 thoughts of procuring a situation, and ruled 
 henceforth more absolutely than ever over her 
 doting grandfather, who denied her no indul- 
 gence he had the means of gratifying. 
 
 Shortly after Mr. Hamlyn had taken her 
 portrait as Jezebel, she received an invitation 
 from a former schoolfellow to spend a few 
 days with her at W , during the race- 
 week. A day previous to the one fixed for 
 her return, her grandfather received a letter 
 from her, announcing her intention of re- 
 maining from home some time longer, and 
 desiring money might be sent her for the
 
 180 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 purpose of providing her with a new dress, 
 for a ball to which she was to accompany 
 her friend. 
 
 The farmer had never refused a request 
 made to him by his darling, even when it was 
 for some of his hoarded wealth ; penurious 
 to all others, he was lavishly profuse to her, 
 and more than she had demanded was sent 
 to her. 
 
 At the ball, for which Hannah required 
 this dress, her beauty excited universal ad- 
 miration. But one person in particular, a 
 stranger who had attended the races, and who 
 was described as a man of a bold, but handsome, 
 appearance, devoted himself to her during the 
 evening. 
 
 Several days elapsed beyond the one spe- 
 cified for her return, and still Hannah had 
 some excuse for delay ; more gaieties were in 
 prospect, and more money requisite for the 
 finery she required to attend them. 
 
 Wherever she went at that time, she was 
 accompanied by the man whose acquaintance 
 she had made at the ball ; and Mrs. Locksley, 
 hearing of this from a neighbour who had
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 181 
 
 met tliem together in the streets of W , 
 
 became so seriously uneasy at her protracted 
 absence, that she resolved herself to go and 
 ascertain the reason she did not return. 
 
 The day before she was to do so, Ilainuih 
 arrived at the farm more beautiful and ar- 
 rogant than ever, and refused, contemptuously, 
 to answer the questions of her anxious mother 
 relative to the stranger with whom she had 
 become so intimately acquainted during her 
 absence. 
 
 However great the admiration felt by that 
 person for Hannah Locksley, it was not strong 
 enough to induce him to follow her to 
 Brookfields ; but that did not appear in the 
 least to annoy the object of it. Her mother 
 quickly guessed she was carrying on a corre- 
 spondence with him, for she frequently found 
 her writing in her own room, and knew she 
 received letters in a writing with which she 
 herself was unacquainted. 
 
 Six weeks after her return from W , 
 
 her grandfather attended a large cattle fair 
 some miles distant, to which he had sent a 
 considerable quantity of stock. He returned
 
 182 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 late at night, highly delighted with his day's 
 work, and drawing a heavy canvass bag from 
 his pocket, emptied its contents on the 
 table, and then told Hannah to take from 
 them as much as would buy her the prettiest 
 gown in W . 
 
 '' Then I'll take this note, grandfather ! " 
 replied she, taking one for the value of twenty 
 pounds, from the glistening heap of gold 
 amongst which it lay. 
 
 The old farmer looked a little astonished 
 at the amount it took for such a purpose, and 
 laughing, good-humouredly, said — 
 
 '* Well, lass, it is a good thing for you I 
 did not wait till the morning to give you a 
 gown ! If I had, I reckon you would have 
 had less to have bought it with ! But I can 
 afford it — the stock sold well — and I got paid 
 for it all in hard cash. I would none of 
 folks' cheques I knew naught about. No, 
 no ; I am a little too deep to be done at this 
 time of day. But now, lock up all that 
 money in the big chest in my room, girl ; 
 
 and to-morrow I'll give you a treat to W 
 
 to spend your note."
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 183 
 
 The next mornin<( Mrs. Locksley iiud her 
 father waited breakfast in vain for Hannah. 
 She was gone, and with her the weighty 
 monev-bair entrnsted to her to lock in the 
 chest the previous night ! 
 
 From that night her history was a blank to 
 the inhabitants of Brookfields. 
 
 One fine afternoon, early in December, I 
 walked to the Vicarage to inquire after Mrs. 
 Hurst, who had been unwell for some days. 
 When I proposed to leave, she pressed me to 
 remain till her son returned home. 
 
 ** He will go back with you, Nelly ; and 
 Jane and I will be good-natured, and spare 
 him to remain to tea with you." 
 
 Glad to return with such an ally against me- 
 lancholy as Mr. Hurst, I gladly consented to 
 await his return ; but when seven o'clock struck, 
 and he was still absent, I resolved to leave 
 without him. It had long been dark, but the 
 moon was rising, and I had no fear of walking 
 alone through the lanes which I must tra- 
 verse as the nearest way to my home ; and I,
 
 184 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 therefore, positively refused to allow one of 
 Mr. Hurst's servants to accompany me. 
 
 I had passed the turning which led to 
 Sandhill Farm, when I became aware that 
 I was followed by some person. The hedges 
 on each side of the lane nearly obscured the 
 light of the moon, but, as I stopped and 
 turned my head, I could discern the figure of 
 a woman a few yards distant. 
 
 Relieved by finding it was one of my 
 own sex, and coming at once to the con- 
 clusion that Mrs. Hurst had sent one of the 
 servants after me, I called out, *' Is that you, 
 Fanny?" 
 
 It was not Fanny's voice which answered 
 me ; it was not Fanny's hand which the next 
 instant rested on my arm. 
 
 '* No, Miss Nelly, that is not my name. 
 It is almost too dark for you to see my face, 
 but I have no doubt you remember the 
 pleasant circumstances attending our first 
 meeting." 
 
 The voice was that of the woman I had 
 seen that dreadful night, and the shudder 
 which passed over my frame whenever I even
 
 MY ELDEST BIlOTlltK. 185 
 
 thought of her, now shook me convulsively 
 as I endeavoured to free my arm from her 
 hold. 
 
 " Let me go," said I, in a voice so low, I 
 hardly heard the words I uttered. " For 
 God's sake, let me go ! " 
 
 " Do you suppose," said the wretch, in a 
 mocking tone, " that I am fool enough to 
 let you go before I have told you my errand, 
 after I have come so far in search of you, 
 too ! Xow listen ! I want money and you 
 must give it me. I will be at the bottom of 
 your orchard to-night at ten o'clock. You 
 perceive, stranger as I am in the place, I 
 know the locality of your home. Be there 
 with fifty pounds, or you will bitterly repent 
 not doing so ! " 
 
 I listened in amazement to this vile woman's 
 audacity, and then indignation mastering the 
 dread I had at first felt, I exclaimed, *' Give 
 you money — meet you to-night ! How dare 
 you thus address me? Are you not afraid I 
 shall have you apprehended for the robbery 
 you committed in my mother's house ? Thank 
 God I have no cause to fear you now I "
 
 186 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 *' So that is your cue — is it?" said my 
 companion. *' You think your brother is so 
 far away that you can afford to be saucy — 
 do you ? Now, mark my words : If you do 
 not act as I have commanded — mind, com- 
 manded is the word I use ! — I will take care 
 that the dainty mother you cherish with such 
 tenderness, shall know that of her eldest son 
 which will stab her to the heart! I don't 
 think she will feel particularly happy when 
 informed of the true history of her silver 
 dishes and tankards ! Now you may go — I 
 have done with you till ten o'clock. If you 
 do not then obey me, I will find my way into 
 your mother's room in the dead of night, and 
 tell her that of her son which will make her 
 regret the hour she gave him birth ! " 
 
 Roused, by these threats, to exertion, I 
 answered, " My brother is beyond your reach, 
 you cannot harm him. You may acquaint 
 my mother with the particulars connected 
 with the dreadful night I first beheld you — 
 and, as you say, it will wound her mother's 
 heart — but, thank God ! yOu cannot injure 
 him, or even his reputation ; for you cannot
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 187 
 
 assail it without reinlerin^ yourself and the 
 man who so nearly murdered me, liahle to 
 punishment. Vou dare not, for your own 
 sake, tell the truth respecting the robbery at 
 my mother's liouse." 
 
 " You will see what I can, and what I dare 
 do, Miss Nelly ! " 
 
 At this instant I heard the sound of .Mr. 
 Hurst, whistling. It was his habit to do so 
 when walking alone in the quiet lanes. 
 
 The woman's ear detected the sound as 
 soon as my own, and she said — 
 
 " Some one is coming, but do not imagine 
 I will not fulfil my threat to the very letter. 
 Fifty pounds by ten o'clock to-night ! or " 
 
 And without concluding the sentence, she 
 held up her finger in a menacing attitude, 
 and turning into the lane which led to Sand- 
 hill Farm, was out of sight before T was joined 
 by Mr. Hurst. 
 
 " Well, Nelly ! " he cried, here I am sent 
 to see Jane's pet lamb does not go astray in 
 the dark; and really it does appear as 
 if you required a shepherd, for by this
 
 188 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 time you ought to be much nearer your 
 fold ! " 
 
 I was unable to reply to his cheerful 
 greeting. I still trembled violently, and he 
 anxiously inquired whether I had been 
 frightened at being alone so late. *' And by 
 the way, Nelly, did I not see some one leave 
 you just before I joined you ? " 
 
 " Yes," said I, blushing at my equivocation, 
 " a woman was importuning me for money, 
 and I was alarmed at her vehemence." 
 
 *' Some impudent gipsy tramp, I dare say. 
 Don't tremble so, Nelly — you are safe with 
 me. But I am very glad I came just at the 
 moment I did. I must caution mamma, when 
 we get home, not to allow you to wander 
 about so late in the day." 
 
 " Pray do not mention anything of my 
 alarm," said I; "you know how soon my 
 mother is agitated. It is foolish to be so 
 timid, but it will be a warning to me not 
 to be out after dark again." 
 
 He readily gave me the promise I re- 
 quested, and chatted witb his usual gaiety 
 the rest of the way home.
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 189 
 
 When we reiiched it, I left him in the hull, 
 and liastenin<i^ at once to my own room, en- 
 deavoured to collect my thoughts sufticiently 
 to decide how I ought to act respecting the 
 menaces of that fearful woman. I did not 
 heed her threats regarding Henry, and only 
 wondered at her audacity in venturing on 
 such absurd statements respecting him ; but 
 I recognised the power she had of inflicting 
 anguish on my mother, and, to spare her, I 
 must devise some mode of purchasing the 
 woman's silence. 
 
 But how was I to do so? I ha<l not five 
 shillings of my own, nor did I know any 
 way by which I could obtain it. Should I 
 tell Mr. Hurst, and be guided by his counsels ? 
 No ; for besides the pain I should experience 
 in acijuainting him with my brother's wicked- 
 ness, 1 felt certain he would advise a course 
 of action I should shrink from following — 
 to myself baflle the schemes of that vile 
 creature, by informing my mother of all she 
 could impart. 
 
 This I felt would be the advice a fricMid 
 would give me, but no one but mys«»]f could
 
 190 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 tell the miseries which might arise from 
 putting it in action. I saw, in imagination, 
 Esther again transformed into the helpless, 
 crippled state from which she had just been 
 released, and mj mother lying in one of the 
 frightful fits of syncope to which she became 
 liable after my father's death, and which, 
 I was told, would infallibly follow any 
 violent mental emotion. These thoughts de- 
 cided me. 
 
 This terrible adversary must be bribed, 
 but how? 
 
 I ran over in my mind the value of the 
 few trinkets I possessed. Was it possible 
 they would be accepted in lieu of the sum 
 demanded ? There was the watch given me 
 by my father on that wretched thirteenth 
 birthday, the locket presented at the same 
 time by my young brothers, and a few rings 
 and brooches given to me on similar occa- 
 sions. These comprised my store of valuables ; 
 and even if I reconciled myself to the pain 
 of parting with such memorials of affection 
 I felt sure they were wholly inadequate for
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 101 
 
 the purpose of satisfying the rapacity of 
 my foe. 
 
 While in this state of terrible uncertainty, 
 Martha entered my room, and with the quick 
 eye of atfection discovered something: serious 
 had occurred to distress me. Thankful that 
 I could impart the events of the evening to 
 one whom I knew wouM not betray them, 1 
 told her all that had passed in my interview 
 with the woman in the lane. I did not 
 imagine that my nurse could aid me, but I 
 had before felt the relief of confiding my 
 anxieties to that kind friend. 
 
 Poor Martha ! I think her misery was as 
 great as my own. I am sure she was equally 
 anxious to preserve my mother and sister 
 from being shocked by the discovery of 
 Henry's guilty participation in the robbery 
 of the plate — but how was it to be pre- 
 vented ? 
 
 After a few minutes spent in rrflection, she 
 said, " I will tell you what you must do. 
 You must meet this woman at the time she 
 fixed, an<l promise that she shall have the 
 money in a week."
 
 192 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 " But, nurse," said I, in astonishment, 
 " where am I to get it from by that time ?" 
 
 " I can get it, dear, but I must write to 
 London for it. You know I have money out 
 at use in a bank there." 
 
 " Oh ! no — no ! — Martha," said T, greatly 
 distressed at such a proposal, *'I cannot con- 
 sent to deprive you of the money you have 
 saved for your old age." 
 
 " Now, don't talk nonsense, pet. The 
 money is for you and Miss Esther, so what 
 does it matter when you have it. And as for 
 my old age — you won't turn me away when 
 I am unable to work, will you ?" 
 
 The idea of turning Martha away was such 
 an absurd one, that I could not refrain from 
 smiling. 
 
 " That's right, dear, laugh at your old 
 nurse, if you like ; and now lie down quietly 
 till the time comes for you to meet this 
 wretch. I wish I could go with you, but it 
 is just the time I go up-stairs with Miss 
 Esther, and we must be careful not to excite 
 any suspicions by acting in an unusual man- 
 ner. I will tell your mamma you would
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. l93 
 
 rather remain quiet, and then you woirt he 
 disturhed." 
 
 It was not nine when Martha left me, and 
 during the hour of solitude which followed 
 what wretchedness did I sufler ! Suppose 
 the delay I must solicit was refused? — that 
 my enemy would insist on the immediate 
 payment of her iniquitous demand, and in 
 default of it should apply to my mother, as 
 she had threatened, for the sum she was un- 
 able to procure from myself? 
 
 It was with feelings of positive relief that 
 I rose from the bed a few minutes before the 
 appointed time, and prepared to meet my 
 fate. Wrapping round me the large shawl 
 Martha had placed near me for the purpose, 
 I stole softly down the stairs, and opening 
 the shutters of the dining-room she had left 
 unfastened, I stepped into the garden. 
 
 The moon was shining brightly as I passed 
 along the path which led to the orchard, but 
 the night was wild and stormy, and occa- 
 sionally dark, heavy clouds quite obscured 
 its light. AYhen I reached the appointed 
 spot, it was so dark that I was unable to <lis- 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 tinguish whether any one was waiting on the 
 opposite side of the low wall which separated 
 the orchard from the meadows beyond it. In 
 a moment, however, I heard a voice say, 
 
 " It is well for yourself you are so punctual. 
 Now, give me the money ; I have no wish to 
 remain longer here in the cold." 
 
 In trembling accents I answered that I had 
 not the money with me, and implored her 
 forbearance for a week, when I promised I 
 would obtain it for her. 
 
 A low, mocking laugh was the answer I 
 received to this petition for delay. " Do you 
 hear that, Jasper ?" said the woman ; and I 
 saw by the light of the moon, from which a 
 large cloud had just rolled, that a man leant 
 against the wall a short distance from the 
 spot where the woman was standing. 
 
 I could not distinctly see his face as he 
 approached the place where I stood, but too 
 well did I recognise the name by which he 
 was addressed. It was the man who had 
 given me that murderous blow on the night 
 I had detected him removing the plate from 
 my mother's house.
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. IOj 
 
 " What do I say to that ?" said the ruffian, 
 in a light, jestinnr tone. " Why, I say that 
 if she does not give us * meal we'll have malt' 
 — if she does not give us money we'll have 
 revenge. We should prefer being agreeable 
 and pleasant to a lady, and take the money, 
 but if she would sooner go and see her brother 
 in prison in a few days, and save her tin, let 
 her." 
 
 I took a desperate resolution when the man 
 uttered the last words — I would brave them 
 — anything at that moment appeared prefer- 
 able to being exposed to such scenes as 
 this; I forgot all but self, and answered, 
 ** Do as you please, I have not the money. 
 If you choose to wait for it till the time I 
 have named, I will procure it for you ; if not, 
 I will acquaint my friends this night with all 
 that you can reveal likely to grieve my mother 
 — for whose sake alone I have consented to 
 be here now — and they will act towards you 
 as they think best." 
 
 Both man and woman were evidently 
 startled at my words. They whispered to- 
 gether for a short time, and then the lattei- 
 
 K 'J
 
 196 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 said, " Will you promise faithfully to bring 
 the fifty pounds here, and at this hour next 
 week, and to bring it aIo7ie f " 
 
 '' Yes ; on condition that you do not mo- 
 lest me or mine in the interval, and that you 
 likewise promise never to trouble me again." 
 
 " We will leave promises for the future, 
 till I see how you keep yours of the present, 
 Miss Nelly. Come, Jasper," 
 
 '' Stay a moment, Rachel," said the man. 
 *^ I want to express my admiration of the 
 admirable manner in which our young friend 
 has behaved to-night. It makes me feel more 
 regret than ever that I was compelled by the 
 laws of self-preservation to give her such an 
 unpleasant tap on the head the night of our 
 first meeting. I am sure she will accept this 
 apology, and kiss and be friends." 
 
 While speaking, the wretch vaulted over 
 the low wall, and placed his arm round my 
 waist. With a loud scream I burst from his 
 grasp, and rushed frantically towards the 
 house. I could hear him pursue me for some 
 paces, and then suddenly stop at the voice of 
 his companion. I never paused till I had
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 197 
 
 entered the wiiulow by wliieli I liiul left the 
 house, anil then, in the siinie hurried manner, 
 closed and barred the shutters. In my agi- 
 tation I had not observed that a light was 
 burning in the room, but as with a deep sigh 
 of relief I sunk in a seat near the window, 1 
 perceived that Mr. Hurst was gazing at me 
 with a look of amazement. 
 
 **Good God! Nelly/' cried he, "where 
 have you been at such an hour, and what has 
 alarmed you ?" 
 
 " I have only been to the bottom of the 
 garden,'* stammered I, in the greatest con- 
 fusion, ** and I was frightened by hearing 
 footsteps behind me as I returned." 
 
 " But surely, Nelly, you will tell me the 
 reason you left the house at such a time?" 
 
 At this moment, to my great relief, Martha 
 entered the room. She looked astonished at 
 beholding me with Mr, Hurst, and anxiously 
 inquired what was the matter. 
 
 *' The matter is this, nurse," said Mr. 
 Hurst ; " I was seardiing for a book I wished 
 to take home with me, when Miss l^llen rushed 
 in at the window, and closed and barred the
 
 198 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 shutters in such trembling haste, as showed 
 she was fearful of pursuit ; I am, there- 
 fore, using the privilege of a friend, and in- 
 quiring how she came to leave the house at 
 such an hour." 
 
 " I can tell you, sir," said Martha, promptly. 
 *' Miss Nelly has not felt right all the evening, 
 and we both thought a walk in the garden 
 would do more to relieve her than anything 
 else. The moon was shining very bright when 
 she went out, and I was going to her the 
 moment Miss Esther was in bed." 
 
 Mr. Hurst's look of painful surprise van- 
 ished at Martha's words, and he answered in 
 his usual cheerful voice, " You see, nurse, it 
 won't do for young ladies to ramble by moon- 
 light, even in such a quiet place as this. You 
 must find some other remedy for her head- 
 aches in future." 
 
 When once more in my own room, I related 
 to Martha all that had occurred, and the 
 bitter tears of humiliation and shame rolled 
 down my cheeks as I told of the insult I had 
 received. This part of my narrative affected 
 Martha greatly.
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 1 99 
 
 " You must not meet these people alone 
 again, my dear child," said she, when I had 
 finished. " I will take them the money this 
 night week, and then, I pray God, we may 
 see no more of them."
 
 200 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 It was on a Wednesday evening I went 
 through the painful scenes I have detailed, 
 and nothing further occurred that week to 
 occasion me alarm. Martha had written to 
 London for the money, and was confident it 
 would arrive in time to enable me to keep 
 the promise I had given. 
 
 On the Sunday I attended as usual my 
 class in the village school, and afterwards 
 walked from thence to the church with Mrs. 
 Hurst. As we entered the churchyard, I 
 observed a tall, showily-dressed man, loung- 
 ing againt the porch. As we passed him, 
 he audaciously raised his hat, and as he re- 
 placed it on his head, stared impudently in 
 my face.
 
 MY ELDEST BROTH KK. '20 \ 
 
 1 li;i(l never fully soon the connten.'inco ot 
 the man Jasi)er, hut I felt instinctively that 
 he stood hefore ine. lie was, as I have said, 
 tall, and, as far as reganied features and com- 
 plexion, might he denominated liandsomc : 
 hut the expression of his face was of such a 
 repulsive character, that I turned my eyes 
 from his look of hold, impudent recognition, 
 with feelings of terror and shame. 
 
 As I entered the church, I was compelled 
 to pass so close to him, tliat my dress actually 
 hrushed against him. To my horror, tlit- 
 wretch seized my hand, and grasped it tightly 
 for an instant in his own. 
 
 It was with burning cheeks, and a heart 
 beating with hatred against my persecutor, 
 that I knelt and implored God's blessing on 
 the prayers I was about to ofTer Him. When 
 I arose and took my seat by the side of my 
 mother, I observed that Mr. Hurst, who had 
 just entered the reading-desk, was looking 
 with evident surprise in the direction of the 
 j)ew in which we sat. As I arose at tin- 
 words, ** I wnll arise and go to my father" — 
 words my mother never hoard without eino- 
 
 K 5
 
 202 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 tion — I became conscious that the man who 
 had insulted me so grossly as I entered the 
 church was in the seat immediately behind 
 me, and during the time I was standing leant 
 over the back of our pew in such a manner 
 as enabled him to stare impudently in my 
 face. How I longed for the termination of 
 that morning's service, and yet how I dreaded 
 lest I might, in quitting the church, again 
 come in contact with the wretch behind me. 
 
 It was our custom to linger in the church- 
 yard till joined by Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, and 
 then walk with them as far as our route lay 
 togother. On this particular morning, on 
 the plea of not feeling well, I entreated my 
 mother to hasten home at once. 
 
 At the gate of the churchyard, through 
 which only one person could pass at a time, 
 stood the object of my fear. This time he 
 did not attempt to touch me, but as I followed 
 my mother through the wicket, he whispered, 
 "You are prettier by daylight than I ex- 
 pected, Nelly." 
 
 " Did that bold-looking stranger speak to
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 203 
 
 you?" asked my mother, looking at my flushed 
 face with surprise. 
 
 " He certainly muttered something as I 
 passed, mamma." 
 
 ** I wonder who he is, Nelly ?'* was iier 
 answer. " I am sure he must be a bad man 
 by the expression of his face. How inso- 
 lently he behaved in church, leaning forward 
 in such a manner that he might gaze in your 
 face. I hope he is not likely to remain long 
 in the neighbourhood." 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Hurst joined us before Me 
 reached the path leading to our home, and 
 my mother, evidently uneasy at the man's 
 insolence to me, immediately inquired if the 
 impertinent stranger was known to tliein. 
 
 '*No; I never saw him till to-day," said 
 the Vicar. " Why do you ask ?" 
 
 My mother replied by mentioning the an- 
 noyance he had occasioned us in church, and 
 expressed a hope that he would not remain 
 in the vicinity. 
 
 " He certainly has not a very pre|)Oss('s>ing 
 countenance, Mrs. Travers, and I should not 
 like any of my female friends to meet him
 
 204 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 unprotected, for he appears perfectly capable 
 of annoying them, so, Nelly, don't go rambling 
 about by yourself of an evening." 
 
 He gave me a quick glance of intelligence 
 as he spoke, and I felt the degrading convic- 
 tion that he associated my absence from 
 home, a few evenings back, in some manner 
 with this man. 
 
 The dreaded, yet anxiously looked-for 
 Wednesday arrived, without my having seen or 
 heard further of my tormentors. Martha had 
 received a cheque for the money, drawn on 
 
 the bank at W , and furnished with it I 
 
 proceeded, at ten o'clock, to the bottom of 
 the garden. My nurse implored me to wait a 
 little later, that she might be able to accom- 
 pany me ; but fearful any delay might induce 
 the woman to fulfil her threat of seeking my 
 mother, I refused her request. 
 
 With the cheque tightly grasped in my 
 hand, I hurried to the bottom of the garden. 
 As I approached the spot where I could dis- 
 cern the forms of two persons, I perceived 
 that one of them was on my^ side of the wall.
 
 MY ELDEST BKOTIIER. 205 
 
 It was the iniiii, uiid with quick stops he ad- 
 vanced to meet me. 
 
 " My friend was afraid you wouM not 
 come, my dear," said he, and tliat we mi«:lit 
 liave the trouhle of ^oing to the house before 
 we had the pleasure of seeinpf you." 
 
 The wretch attempted to take my hand as 
 he spoke, but indignation mastered fear, and 
 I said, '* If you do not instantly place your- 
 self on the other side of the wall, I will 
 scream for assistance — I have friends withiu 
 call." 
 
 " Come back, Jasper, and don't be a fool," 
 said the woman, sternly; and with a muttered 
 oath he obeyed her command. " There, now 
 that you have your own way," said she, 
 harshly, '* toll me, have you brought the 
 money ?" 
 
 " Yes, here it is." 
 
 "Is it a bank note?" inquired she, as she 
 felt the paper. 
 
 "No; it is a cheque on the bank at 
 
 W , twelve miles off. It is payable to 
 
 bearer — you will have no difticulty in getting 
 the money."
 
 206 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 They whispered together for a moment, 
 and then the woman said — 
 
 ** If there is any difficulty you will repent 
 it to the last hour of your existence ! If not, 
 I have done with you for the present ! " 
 
 " But I have not ! " said the man, and 
 made a movement as if to cross the wall. 
 
 Before he could do so, I fled from the spot, 
 and the next instant was in Martha's arms, 
 who had come in search of me. 
 
 It was some time after these events before 
 I recovered my usual composure. I seldom 
 went out alone, and never passed the corner 
 where I had met the woman in the lane 
 without a shudder ; but when Christmas 
 arrived, and I was still left unmolested, my 
 cheerfulness returned, and I ventured to 
 hope I might never more behold those I 
 feared. 
 
 Mr. Lancester and his son were to spend 
 this festival with us. My young brothers, 
 too, were expected home, and my heart was 
 gladdened at the prospect of their arrival. 
 They had passed the summer vacation in tra- 
 velling with the gentleman under whose care
 
 MY ELDEST BKOTIIER. 207 
 
 they were placed, aiui nearly a twelvemonth 
 had passed since we had seen them. 
 
 I doiTt believe any human being could be 
 happier than my sister was at this period. 
 She was now able, with Martha's assistance, 
 to get up and down the stairs; and though 
 still compelled to recline many hours daily on 
 a sofa, she could move, without pain or diffi- 
 culty, from room to room. Her engagement 
 to Gerald was openly acknowledged, and he 
 prognosticated that by the following summer 
 she would be able to quit home and nurse, 
 and trust herself to a husband's care. 
 
 " I don't know, Esther, what we shall do 
 without you," said my mother, when the pro- 
 bability of her leaving us was first spoken 
 of. ** I only hope no Gerald will come and 
 take my Nelly from me, though, 1 suppose, it 
 is what I must expect to happen ! '* 
 
 " Nelly never means to marry ; she means 
 to stay always at home with you." 
 
 "She must," said Esther, laughin<:, "if 
 fthe waits till a (ierald arrives to cdaim her. 
 I caimot admit there is another to be found.*' 
 
 Gerald had recently resigned his appoint-
 
 208 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 ment in the army, and immediately after his 
 marriage was to take his bride abroad for 
 some months. On their return, he was to 
 commence practice in London as a consulting 
 surgeon ; and my brotlier Walter, now a fine 
 youth of fifteen, was to become one of his 
 pupils, and reside in his family during the 
 time he was studying the profession his admi- 
 ration for Gerald had determined him to 
 select. Edmund was yet too young to decide 
 on his future career. They were both high- 
 spirited boys, and their arrival at home 
 diffused happiness throughout the house. 
 
 Gerald and his father arrived on Christmas 
 eve ; and, as after dinner, with Esther once 
 more amongst us, we drew our chairs to the 
 fire, and the laugh, and the jest, and the 
 affectionate remark went round the circle, it 
 seemed impossible to believe that death, 
 sickness, and misery, had visited us so re- 
 cently ! 
 
 The next morning was as bright and 
 sparkling as a Christmas morning should 
 be. All nature appeared rejoicing at the 
 return of that blessed day, on which angels
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 209 
 
 sang of joy in heaven, peace, and goodwill 
 towanls men. Summer, in its brightest 
 garb, never decked the earth more beauti- 
 fully than it was dressed that day. The 
 frost had covered every tree, shrul), and blade 
 of grass in a mantle of glittering silver; 
 while from the tall branches of the large oaks 
 which sheltered the back of the house, and 
 from every projecting ledge, icicles, like pre- 
 cious stones, sparkled in the sun's rays, 
 reflecting every colour of the rainbow. The 
 birds chirrupped merrily as, clustering on the 
 twigs of the tall hollies, they pecked at the 
 brilliant berries which were provided bounti- 
 fully for their sustenance; and tlie clear, 
 frosty air brought musically and cheerily to 
 our ears the sound of the church bells. 
 
 All was bright and cheering, and the happy 
 voices and ringing laughter of my young 
 brothers seemed as if they were offering a 
 defiance to care and melancholy. 
 
 Esther was, that blessed day, for the first 
 time since her acci<lent, to enter God's house 
 to thank him for all His mercies vouchsafed 
 her.
 
 210 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 My mother and Martha were to accompany 
 her. Mr. Lancester, Gerald, my brothers, 
 and myself, set off early, in order that 
 we might be ready to assist her from the 
 carriage which had been ordered for her con- 
 veyance. 
 
 Our walk was a merry one. Walter and 
 Edmund amused themselves in making slides 
 by the wayside, and insisted on teaching me 
 how to glide over them. To my own surprise 
 and satisfaction, I accomplished this feat 
 without a tumble ; but when Gerald's foot 
 slipped, and he measured his length on the 
 road, the laughter which followed his down- 
 fall — and in which the discomfited knight 
 heartily joined — was loud enough to have 
 issued from the lungs of a boarding school of 
 boys. 
 
 I don't think a happier party entered God's 
 house that day, to offer up praises and thanks- 
 givings for the mercies granted them. And 
 as I knelt between my mother and sister — 
 the one almost miraculously restored to health ; 
 the other, if not happy, at least free from 
 any present anxiety — I thanked God, from
 
 MY ELDEST lUlOTUEll. i211 
 
 the depths of my hoiirt, that 1 had been al»lo 
 to keep from them the knowledge of Henry's 
 guilt and his fatal connexion with those who 
 had occasioned such misery to myself — misery 
 for which I was repaid a hundredfold in be- 
 holding the tranquillity of my mother and 
 the happiness of Esther and my brothers. 
 What a different C ristmas would it have 
 proved to all, had not Martha afforded me 
 the means of bribing to silence her who had 
 such fearful means of revenge? 
 
 I have often wondered at the elasticity 
 with which my spirits rose after any calamity. 
 Who that had seen me that Christmas-day, 
 could have imagined the sorrows through 
 which I had passed in the seventeen years of 
 my life? Still less, that the causes from 
 which they had arisen were yet in existence, 
 and liable at any moment to overwhelm me 
 with fresh trials. 
 
 I have often thought how false was the 
 idea intended to be conveyed by the classical 
 fable of the sword suspended over the head 
 of Damocles. Had he worn the crown of
 
 212 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 Dionysius a little longer he would have lost 
 his fear of its descent. 
 
 One hung over my own head by the 
 slightest thread which could sustain it — the 
 will of a cruel, unscrupulous woman. Yet 
 each day that passed diminished my perception 
 of its presence. 
 
 And is it not so with thousands who walk 
 abroad with cheerful looks and erect mien ; 
 who rise in the morning wich the knowledge 
 that the weapon of destruction, which has so 
 long overshadowed them, may fall and crush 
 them before the night arrives ? 
 
 Yet such persons *^ eat, drink, and are 
 merry," and often leave as a legacy to their 
 descendants the sword which has so inno- 
 cently threatened their own existence. Even 
 as our first father left the most terrible 
 one of all suspended over the head of every 
 human being from the cradle to the grave. 
 
 I do not believe it was from any selfish 
 cause that I quickly rallied from the effects 
 of the trials which lately had assailed me. 
 I suppose a naturally vivacious temperament 
 must have done much towards producing such
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 218 
 
 a result, but I think the real cause was my 
 love for my mother and sister. For their 
 sakes, I acted promptly when it was necessary 
 to keep anythin^i^ from their knowled«j;e which 
 I knew would pain them ; and when the 
 pressure was removed from my mind, the ne- 
 cessity of maintaining^ my usual demeanour, 
 in order that I might not betray my secret, 
 acted beneficially on my sj)irits, and soon 
 allowed my assumed cheerfulness to become 
 reality. 
 
 It is true, for months after I had received 
 that terrible blow I remained nervous and 
 miserable ; but the shock I that night sus- 
 tained, added to the physical injury, had, for 
 the time, completely prostrated my mind ; 
 and I did not revive till removed from the 
 place where I lived in constant dread of my 
 'brother's return. 
 
 The sword was visible to me as long as I 
 remained where I had first beheld it. 
 
 It was long since we had passed a Christmas 
 80 merrily as the first we spent at Ikookfields. 
 Mrs. Ilurst had many cheerful gatherings at 
 the Vicarage, and we likewise participated in
 
 214 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 the gaieties of the neighbourhood. There 
 was a ball at Mrs. Summerd ale's, the 
 " county " lady of the vicinity, at which, 
 cJiapero7ied by Mrs. Hurst, I was to make 
 my debut as a grown-up young lady ; and in 
 order that I might present a brilliant appear- 
 ance, Esther's thoughts and Esther's fingers 
 were more occupied in my behalf than Gerald 
 quite approved of. 
 
 Too soon those bright days passed away. 
 Walter and Edmund returned to town with 
 Mr. Lancester and Gerald, and the home-life 
 became quiet as before. If Esther's health 
 continued to improve, it was settled she was 
 to become the wife of Gerald in the following 
 August ; and although when he left us it was 
 only the middle of February, the thoughts of 
 mother, sister, and nurse were occupied in 
 preparing the trousseau, which, said Martha, 
 would require to be very extensive, as, in 
 consequence of Miss Esther's very long 
 illness, she did not possess a single dress 
 beyond the wrappers she still continued to 
 wear. I was, therefore, to proceed to London 
 with Martha, soon after Gerald left us, and
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 215 
 
 purchase some of the materials required for 
 the i)urpose. I was to be allowed a holiday 
 of a week, which was to be spent at Mr. 
 Lancester's ; and my mother and Esther were 
 to pass the period of our absence at the 
 Vicarage. It was, therefore, without anxiety 
 on their account, I quitted home on a bright 
 morning, the latter end of February ; and 
 after a drive of five miles to the station with 
 Mr. Hurst, started in the train for London.
 
 SI 6 MY ELDEST BROTHER, 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 I HAD no time for reflection of any kind 
 during the time I was with Mr. Lancester. 
 My mornings were passed in the delightful 
 employment of inspecting silks, laces, and 
 muslins; and my evenings in visiting the 
 various places of amusement which my kind 
 friends considered would afford me pleasure. 
 Indeed, I was treated in this respect, both by 
 Gerald and his father, like a spoiled child 
 home for the holidays : their whole occupation 
 appeared to consist in catering for my enter- 
 tainment. Two days before I was to leave 
 them they engaged a box at one of the 
 theatres, in order that I might view the 
 glories of a wonderful pantomime with which 
 I was certain to be delighted.
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 217 
 
 Now I would much rather hiivc romainof! 
 quietly at home ou that evenin<r. Unaccus- 
 tomed to excitement — at least of a ])lea- 
 surahle nature — I felt weary of the incessant 
 whirl in which the last few days had hecn 
 passed ; and then, though I did not like to 
 say so, for fear of mortifying my friends, I 
 really did not like pantomimes. 
 
 When at the theatre, however, I tried to 
 laugh as much as was expected at the absurd 
 and noisy scenes which constitute the merit 
 of such entertainments. IJut I was heartily 
 glad when it was all over, and I found myself 
 slowly following the stream of persons who 
 were, apparently, as eager as myself to quit 
 the scene of their late amusement. 
 
 To reach the entrance of the theatre, we 
 had to pass down a narrow passage, divided 
 only by a low partition from that which led 
 from the pit. In the middle of that we were 
 detained a short time, while some of the crowd 
 in front passed through the doors. 
 
 While waiting to advance, Gerald whispered 
 to me — 
 
 " Nelly, do you know that man who i^ 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 staring at you so intently from the other 
 side ? " 
 
 I turned my head quickly, and saw a man 
 rudely and hastily pushing his way through 
 the crowd which surrounded him. 
 
 "" It can be no one I am acquainted with," 
 said I, " for I do not know a single person in 
 London but yourselves." 
 
 " Then you have made a conquest, Nelly 
 — though, I fear, not a very reputable one — 
 for his look was certainly expressive of admi- 
 ration. He was a good-looking fellow, 
 too, in an impudent, vulgar style of good 
 looks." 
 
 Gerald's words filled my mind with a vague 
 kind of dread. Was it possible that the man 
 he had observed could be the one I had such 
 reason to dread; and if so, would he dare 
 molest me while under the protection of Mr. 
 Lancester ? 
 
 Martha, however, laughed at my apprehen- 
 sions when I confided them to her, and said 
 I must not be surprised at people's staring at 
 me in such public places;' and, ashamed to 
 lay so much stress on the gaze of a passing
 
 MY KLDKST HKOTIIKK. 219 
 
 stranp^er, I dismissed it from my mind, and 
 the next morninir, if I tliouirlit of it at all, it 
 was only to laugh at my folly. 
 
 The last day I was to spend in town was 
 devoted to the business which brouirht me 
 there. I had despatched patterns of various 
 articles for my sister's selection, and had now 
 to give my final directions res|)ecting them. 
 Mr. Lancester had engaged a carriage for my 
 use during the time I was his guest, and it 
 was quite dark when I entered it for the last 
 time at the door of a shop in Bond Street, 
 whore my last purchases were made. 
 
 When 1 met Mr. Lancester and Gerald at 
 dinner, they both congratulated me on my 
 looks, and the latter declared that spending 
 money was evid(;ntly the most delightful of 
 all occupations to a young lady. 
 
 "And 1 should think," answered 1, "that 
 earning it must be the most delightful of 
 employments to a man, for I have observed 
 that an idle one is the most wretched of 
 mortals." 
 
 ** Very true, Nelly. \Vo do feel pleasure 
 in working hard, that those we love may have
 
 220 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 the enjoyment of spending easily, but then 
 we expect something in return beyond that 
 of seeing them arrayed in purple and fine 
 linen. I shall insist, as soon as ray marital 
 authority commences, on Esther's learning by 
 heart the speech of Katherine to her sister 
 and Hortensio's widow. It is the best manual 
 of a wife's duties that ever was written." 
 
 " Certainly," said I, " it will be very comi- 
 cal to see Esther turned into a bootjack for 
 your benefit. I am afraid you will not find 
 her quite so submissive as you imagine." 
 
 Just as I was about to leave the dinino-- 
 
 o 
 
 room, a servant informed me that a young 
 
 person from Messrs. A 's, in Bond Street, 
 
 was waiting to see me. Supposing it was 
 some one called for further directions respect- 
 ing a dress I had ordered, I desired her to 
 be shown into the breakfast-room, where I 
 went to meet her. 
 
 The tables, the chairs, the sofa, and every 
 available place where parcels could be de- 
 posited, were occupied with my numerous 
 purchases, and, as I entered, I perceived that 
 one of them — the largest — which contained
 
 MY ELDKST imOTIIRIl. 1?21 
 
 silks for dresses, was unfastened, and its eon- 
 tents were being inspected by the youn;: 
 woman waitinjr to see me. She turned lier 
 head at my approach, and, to my dismay, I 
 found myself once more face to face with the 
 woman Rachel. 
 
 " You do not appear pleased to see me, Miss 
 Nelly," said she, in a jeering tone, as pale as 
 death I recoiled from her touch. " Did you 
 suppose I should not pay my respects to you 
 when I discovered you were in London. Jas- 
 per happened luckily to see you last night at 
 the theatre, but could not manage to trace 
 you home. I knew, however, that Regent 
 Street and its neighbourhood were the decoys 
 for rustics like you, and you have been tracke<I 
 to-day from shop to shop, though it was only 
 at the last one I succeeded in learning your 
 address; and I immediately posted off t(» 
 assure you of my joy at so unexpectedly 
 meeting you.'* 
 
 During the time she was speaking, I wa^ 
 bracing myself to hear with calmness the pur- 
 port of her visit. That she was come for the 
 purpose of annoying me I felt certain ; nor
 
 222 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 did she leave me long in ignorance of her 
 motive for seeking me. 
 
 In answer to my question of why she had 
 done so, she replied by asking me, in a tone 
 of mock politeness, to take a chair, at the 
 same time seating herself on the sofa. As I 
 remained standing, she continued, " Oh ! as 
 you please ; we will then come to business at 
 once. I unfortunately require fifty pounds 
 immediately, and naturally look to the sister 
 of Henry Travers to furnish me with it." 
 
 The woman's cool impudence roused my 
 anger, and for the time caused me to forget 
 the fatal power she possessed over me. I 
 replied, indignantly, " I have not fifty pounds, 
 and if I had, I would not allow you to frighten 
 me out of one shilling of it." 
 
 The look of almost good-humoured au- 
 dacity her face had hitherto worn, suddenly 
 gave place to the expression of terrible 
 ferocity I had seen it wear before. Rising 
 from the sofa on which she had been indo- 
 lently lolling, she approached me, and in a 
 low, passionate voice, said, ' 
 
 " If you dare speak to me again like that.
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 2i.>3 
 
 I will compel you to entreat my pardon on 
 your knees, you wretched little worm ! Do 
 you think you can defy me ? Not got money 
 indeed ! I should think you must have plenty 
 to be able to buy such things as these." And 
 she pointed to the contents of the parcel she 
 had unfastened. " But if you really have 
 spent all your money, I will give you five 
 minutes to consider how you can procure it. 
 Only make up your mind that it miist be 
 found, and you will find the task easy I have 
 no doubt." 
 
 My temporary courage had quite vani>hed 
 by this time, and 1 felt almost grateful for 
 the short respite afVorded me to collect my 
 thoughts. I rapidly came to the conclusion 
 that I must adopt one of two courses^-either 
 defy my enemy, and call Mr. Lanccster to my 
 assistance, or again endeavour to bribe her to 
 silence. But how was I to do so? And 
 even if I could, what security had [ that I 
 should not again and again be called on to 
 satisfy the rapacity of these harpies? 
 
 While I remained still hesitating how 1 
 ought to act, a hand was laid on my shoulder,
 
 224 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 and, looking up, I saw the bright eyes of 
 the woman fixed on my face. 
 
 " Well, have you decided ? — the five minutes 
 are gone." 
 
 " You will obtain no more money from 
 me ! " said I, firmly. " I have resolved to 
 tell my friends of your persecutions, and of 
 the mode by which you extorted it from me 
 before. Do and say what you will, I am 
 determined to free myself from your impor- 
 tunities for the future ! " 
 
 I half expected she would have offered me 
 violence when I thus defied her ; but, to my 
 astonishment, she dropped me a low curtsey, 
 and thanked me for my kind intentions to- 
 wards her — adding, with an insolent smile, 
 " I see I did wrong not to bring Jasper with 
 me. You would not prove so obstinate if he 
 was here ! " 
 
 The very sound of that man's name caused 
 my heart to beat with increased violence; 
 but determined she should not see my alarm, 
 I walked towards the bell for the purpose of 
 summoning assistance.
 
 MY ELDEST imOTIlKU. 5^0 
 
 She saw my iiuentiun, and phiccd lirr^rlt 
 in my piith. 
 
 ** It does not matter," sai<l I, in answer to 
 lier look of intimidation, "1 have only t(. 
 raise my voice, and my friends will hasten 
 to me." 
 
 She stood for a few moments irresolnte. 
 and then said — 
 
 " Well, for this once you have the ad- 
 vantage. Plume yourself on it as much as 
 you please, it will not be long your's ! " 
 
 She then opened the door, and as she was 
 about to quit the room, Gerald, who was on 
 the point of entering, stood aside for her to 
 pass ; and then looking at me, and observing 
 my pale face, he exclaimed — 
 
 " Why, Nelly, your long conversation with 
 that dressmaker has fatigued you more than 
 all your day's work ! I have come to tell 
 you we are waiting for you to pour out the 
 coffee." 
 
 As soon as I could make my escape, I 
 imparted to Martha all I had gone through 
 since I had seen her just previous to the 
 dinner, and asked her opinion as to \ho pm- 
 
 L5
 
 226 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 dence of at once informing Mr. Lancester of 
 what had occurred ; for now that I had thrown 
 down the gauntlet, I did not doubt I should 
 be soon again assailed. 
 
 She hesitated before she answered me, and 
 then acknowledged that, frightful as was my 
 liability to be harassed by these people, and 
 hopeless as it appeared to satisfy their de- 
 mands, she dreaded the effects of an open 
 rupture with them, and reminded me of what 
 I had selfishly overlooked, that Esther's mar- 
 riage would most probably never take place 
 if she was acquainted with her brother's 
 guilt. She would refuse to bring disgrace 
 into the home of an honourable man. 
 
 I knew that Martha was right ; that my 
 sister would be firm in her refusal of Gerald, 
 if she knew of the power these vile wretches 
 boasted over their wretched victim. 
 
 What should we do ? We asked each other 
 this question repeatedly. At last the cow^ard's 
 refuge — delay — was resolved on. We might 
 hear no more of Rachel and her confederate. 
 Alarmed at my threat of informing my friends 
 of their persecutions, and well knowing Henry
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 997 
 
 was beyond tlioir iimcIi, they iiiiL-'lit not molest 
 me auftiin. 
 
 And with this faint hope for the future, 
 I determined to keep secret all that relate*! to 
 the past. 
 
 It was always a relief to me in any emer- 
 gency when I had deci<ied on a course of 
 action. And now that 1 liad done so in this 
 instance, I was able to assist Martha in packini; 
 our various purchases ready for departure 
 early the following morning. We were in 
 the breakfast-room, occupied in this manner, 
 when a letter was given me, with the inti- 
 mation that the person who delivered it 
 wouhl call in half-an-hour for an answer. 
 
 At the first glance of the paper within the 
 envelope, I uttered an exclamation of sur|)rise 
 and horror. 
 
 In my hand was the evidence that Rachel 
 had not spoken falsely in declaring the fearful 
 power she held over me. 
 
 The letter was in the well-known writing 
 of my brother ! Of that l)rother whom f 
 imagined separated thousands of miles from 
 his evil companions, endeavouring to gain oii
 
 228 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 honourable competence, and striving to blot 
 out the remembrance of his former errors by 
 his present exemplary conduct ! 
 
 I could scarcely credit the evidence of my 
 eyesight — but, alas ! there was no room for 
 doubt. 
 
 *' Nelly, I conjure you by all you hold dear 
 in this world or sacred in the next, to give 
 Rachel the money she desires ! I have been 
 in England for some time, bankrupt of all 
 that my mother had bestowed. To Rachel 
 it is owing I am not now in a felon's prison ; 
 but I shall be delivered up to the punishment 
 I merit, should you provoke her by resistance 
 to her demands ! Once more, Nelly, save me 
 for our mother's sake ! " 
 
 This letter was not signed, but I knew it 
 was written by him who, from my earliest 
 recollection, had been the cause of shame and 
 misery in my home ! 
 
 Hesitation was now at an end. I must 
 buy the silence of Henry's associates, and 
 endeavour, if possible, to rescue him from 
 their toils. I had still part pf the money my 
 mother had given me for the purchase of
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 229 
 
 Esther's wedding clotlies, hut not sufficient to 
 satisfy the demand of the woman. 
 
 Ahis ! ou«;ht that we(hling ever to take 
 phice ? Ought I not to let Esther free from 
 his engagement the man who w^as about to 
 give her an honourable name, and who wouM 
 do so in ignorance that at any moment it 
 might be assailed with disgrace ? 
 
 Have any of those who may peruse these 
 pages ever known the dull, tranquil feeling 
 which succeeds a period of uncertainty? When 
 the hope deferred has become the hope anni- 
 hilated ; while the mind, stunned by the 
 shock, is incapable of realizing the conse- 
 quences which must result from its extinction. 
 If they have not, let them pray God to spare 
 them its knowledge. 
 
 Such a state was mine after I read that 
 letter. All feeling was crushed within my 
 heart : hope and fear were alike dead. The 
 sword had fallen, but it had struck mo with 
 the blunted edge; and had numbed, instead 
 of lacerating me. 
 
 It was fortunate, for the presorvatiuii of 
 my reason, that Jasper Coxe was the person
 
 230 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 who, within an hour, was ushered into the 
 room '* as the person who had come for an 
 answer to the letter." The sight of this 
 detested man roused me from the lethargy 
 which was stealing over my faculties. 
 
 He waited a short time after his entrance 
 before he spoke, as if expecting Martha would 
 leave the room ; but when he perceived I 
 intended her to remain, he said, carelessly — 
 
 " Just as you please ! If you don't mind 
 people's knowing of Harry's misfortune, I 
 am sure I don't ! I am come upon business 
 to-niofht, and have no time for love- 
 making ! " 
 
 " How dare you speak to Miss Ellen like 
 that?" said Martha, confronting him, with 
 flashing eyes, and hand uplifted as if to 
 strike him. 
 
 "Hold your tongue, old woman ! " answered 
 he, with perfect good humour. " Do you 
 suppose it is the first time this pretty rosebud 
 has heard me talk of love to her ? We have 
 had delightful moonlight meetings that I'll 
 be bound she never told you about ! " And 
 the man winked impudently at me as he
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 231 
 
 Uttered the words. *' But, as I said, to-iii^dit 
 I come on business. Have you got the ca^ih 
 ready for Rachel, or will you take a pleasant 
 walk to-morrow and visit your brother in her 
 Majesty*s commodious mansion called New- 
 gate ? It will hurt our feelings to put an 
 old friend in such quarters, but it is purely 
 a commercial transaction — an afliiir of pounds, 
 shillings, and pence, my little Nelly ! So 
 make your choice — only be quick about 
 it'" 
 
 I did not betray the slightest emotion, 
 either of fear or anger. I did not wince 
 under the insults the man poured on my head, 
 but, with a calm voice, answered — 
 
 "Tell me first when and where I can see 
 my brother." 
 
 ** If he wants to see you, I suppose he'll 
 look you up himself. You won't find him 
 out through me. If you want to send him 
 an extra fifty, I'll take charge of it for him, 
 and see he gets it safe ! " 
 
 I emptie<l the contents of my purse on ilie 
 table. There was thirty-six pounds remaining 
 of the hundred my mother hod given rae for
 
 232 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 my purchases, some of which I was not to 
 pay for till they were sent to Brookfields. 
 
 The man took it up, counted it, and then 
 said, " This won't do — I must have twenty- 
 four more ! " 
 
 " Why, you only demand fifty," said 
 Martha ; ** it is only fourteen pounds short of 
 that sum." 
 
 *' Quite correct, ma'am — you ought to have 
 been brought up an accountant ! But I 
 charge ten pounds for my trouble in coming 
 here to-night. Indeed, twenty is the proper 
 fee ; but I have thrown off ten for the plea- 
 sure of seeing my charming Nelly ! " 
 
 Faint and sick with despair, I looked help- 
 lessly to Martha for aid ; nor did I seek it in 
 vain. 
 
 " You shall have that sum," said she, " in 
 a week from this time, if you will wait till 
 then." 
 
 He hesitated a short time, and then said, 
 " Ah ! my good nature will be the ruin of 
 me some day ! But if you promise to let me 
 have the money in a week, I will bear the 
 brunt of Rachel's temper for going back
 
 MY i:li)i:st liHoniKU. 233 
 
 witliout it. But whore am 1 to come for 
 it— here ? " 
 
 **No; we return to Brookiields to-morru\v/' 
 
 " Then I will indulge myself with a mouthful 
 of country iiir, and a meeting at the old time 
 and place with my charming Nelly, who little 
 knows all I endure on her account, from the 
 jealousy of Rachel. Won't you shake hands 
 before we part ? Oh ! very well ; perhai)S 
 you won't be quite so shy this night week." 
 
 And with an insolent nod, he followed 
 Martha from the room. 
 
 I was hardly conscious of all the insults I 
 had received from him ; my thoughts were 
 filled with the dreadful intelligence of which 
 he had been the bearer. 
 
 Henry in England ! In the power of those 
 who boasted of their ability to deliver him up 
 to a shameful punishment, and who only 
 deferred carrying their threats into execution 
 as long as I could furnish them with the 
 money they extorted from my fears. 
 
 One thought — one burning wish above all 
 others — haunted me. Could I but discover 
 their victim, and rescue him from their power?
 
 234 . MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 Wild thoughts, vain wishes ! I could do 
 nothing but return to ray mother, and as long 
 as possible spare her the agony I was ex- 
 periencing myself. 
 
 The following morning I left Streatham. 
 Gerald accompanied me to the station ; but 
 he was too much occupied in instructing me 
 with innumerable messages to Esther — his 
 thoughts too much filled with his own happy 
 future — to see more than symptoms of fatigue 
 in my dull, heavy eyes and abstracted manner. 
 
 There were several persons in the carriage 
 in which he had placed me, so that I was 
 unable to converse with Martha ; but when 
 seated in the one which was to convey me 
 from the station, she entreated me to try 
 and hide from my mother the wretchedness I 
 felt. 
 
 " If you could only have a good cry, dear," 
 said this true friend, " you would feel 
 better." 
 
 But I knew she was wrong. If once I 
 allowed my feelings to overpower me, I 
 should not be able to restrain them more. 
 So with the same calm, dull look I met my
 
 MY ELDEST BKUTIIER. i?35 
 
 mother and sister, a8 they waited in the porch 
 of the door to welcome me. 
 
 My heurt ached as 1 looked at Esther's 
 face, radiant w^ith love, and joy, and hope, as 
 she stood that afternoon with the sun shining 
 on her beautiful golden hair and her eyes 
 sparkling with animation. She knew the 
 cargo of loving words with which I was 
 freighted, and that more than would he 
 committed to my memory would be in the 
 letter of which I was sure to be the bearer. 
 How soon miffht tears of bitter an^juish stain 
 those cheeks which now blushed with innocent 
 delight as she received the words of atrection 
 I delivered to her from her l)etrothed ? 
 
 After tea, all the packages were brought 
 in and opened by Martha ; and when every- 
 thing had been admired and approved, my 
 mother said, ** How much have you brought 
 back in your purse, Nelly ? " 
 
 It was very strange, but till this question 
 was asked, I had not remembered that I must 
 give an account of my stewardship ; and I 
 turned sick at the sudden thoui^ht that I had
 
 9S6 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 no means of accounting for such a large 
 portion of the sum entrusted to me. 
 
 I turned a scared look on Martha, who 
 promptly came to my aid. 
 
 "We have all the bills up-stairs, ma'am, 
 but Miss Nelly is too tired to go over them 
 to-night ; but when you see them, I don't 
 fear you will think we have been extra- 
 vagant." 
 
 ** I think my Nelly has managed every 
 thing admirably, with the exception of re- 
 turning with such a pale face. I shall scold 
 Gerald for not taking better care of you. 
 Go to bed, dear, and look more like your- 
 self to-morrow." 
 
 I was very thankful to find myself alone. 
 Now for the first time, during the last four- 
 and-twenty hours, I was able to reflect. 
 One thought was predominant above all 
 others — above even my fears for my mother 
 — my apprehensions for Henry. It was the 
 conviction that Esther's marriage would not 
 take place. But what mattered that ? She 
 would die of shame and grief when acquainted 
 with all that must soon be revealed.
 
 MY ELDEST nUOTIIEK. 537 
 
 " Oh, my sister ! ■ cried 1, in the ani;iii>h 
 of my heart, ** my dear, dear sister, would 
 that the sacrifice of my life could assure the 
 happiness of your's ' '* 
 
 With tlie first <i:liin])se of day, I left my 
 room, and wandered from the <(arden into the 
 road which led towards the Vicarage. I had 
 no motive for so doing, no knowledge even of 
 the way I strayed ; but the cool morning 
 air blowing in my face assuaged the burning 
 pain in my head ; and I went on and on till 
 I came to the turning where I had first met 
 the terrible Rachel. I passed it, for the 
 first time since I had done so, without fear. 
 I had now nothing to dread, shouM soon have 
 nothiu'^ to conceal. I must account to mv 
 mother for the missing money, and how could 
 1 do so but by a relation of the truth ? 
 
 Absorbed in my painful reflections, I 
 reached the Vicarage; and still, with the 
 same purposeless steps, opened the gate, and 
 walked to the house. Early as it was, .Mr. 
 Hurst was writing in his study, the windows 
 of which looked out on the lawn. He s;iw
 
 238 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 me as I passed, and directly was by my 
 side. 
 
 " Good God ! Nelly," he exclaimed, " what 
 is wrong with you ? Your mother — Esther ! 
 speak, are they ill ? " 
 
 I tried to answer him ; but, as usual with 
 me, violent emotion deprived me for the 
 time of the power of articulating a word. 
 I felt as if the earth was reeling to and fro — 
 I tried to clutch at Mr. Hurst to support me 
 — and was conscious of nothing more till I 
 found myself in his mother's sitting-room, 
 extended on the sofa, and Mr. Neave, the 
 surgeon of the village, standing by me. 
 
 " She is better now," were the first words 
 I heard. ** You must keep her very quiet for 
 some hours. I will call on Mrs. Travers as I 
 return, and tell her she will pass the morning 
 with you. I will be careful not to alarm her 
 on Miss Ellen's account." 
 
 For more than two hours I remained almost 
 without the power of thought ; but as the 
 stupor which succeeded the sudden faintness 
 which had seized me, passed away, the tears 
 flowed through my closed lids, and betrayed
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 9$9 
 
 to my watchful friend that somcthinpf more 
 than accidental indisposition had occasioned 
 my present state. 
 
 " Tell me, my dear girl," said she, tenderly, 
 " what it is which has caused this affliction. 
 Confide it to one who loves you, and whose 
 counsels may assist to alleviate it." 
 
 My long suppressed tears now burst 
 forth without control, and I sobbed with 
 hysterical violence in the arms of my terrified 
 friend. 
 
 *' I will tell you all," said I, when able 
 to speak coherently ; ** I can no longer bear 
 the weight of my secret wretchedness, and 
 you will direct me how best to impart it to 
 my mother and Esther." 
 
 I told her all the particulars of thedrea<lful 
 night when my mother's house was robbed ; 
 of my interview with the woman in the lane; 
 and all I had since endured from her perse- 
 cution ; an<l then took from my bosom the 
 dreadful letter I had received the night before 
 I quitted London. The awful uncertainty 
 respecting the crimes of which they accused 
 Henry was not the least part of niy rni>«'ry.
 
 240 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 What could he have done, which enabled 
 these miscreants to exert such authority over 
 him ? 
 
 Mrs. Hurst was dreadfully shocked at the 
 story I related, and was as unable as myself 
 to decide on the proper course to adopt. 
 
 "Let me tell my husband, Nelly, he is 
 wiser than either of us, and will know how 
 to act for the best. He shall come to you, 
 and toofether we will decide what course 
 should be taken. It is certain you must no 
 longer submit to the threats and extortions 
 of these people. Better at once to brave 
 the worst, than to live in constant fear of 
 it. I will go and send Philip to you di- 
 rectly." 
 
 I was too ill to resist her wishes, even had 
 I felt inclined. Worn out by want of rest, 
 and exhausted by violent emotion, I fell into 
 a heavy slumber which must have been of 
 some duration. 
 
 When I awaked, Mr. Hurst was sitting 
 by the sofa. 
 
 "Jane is gone to your - mother's, Nelly," 
 said he, " and deputed me to watch you during
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 9M 
 
 her absence. She has toM lue something, 
 my chiM, of this anUir. You must tell me 
 yourself all that appertains to it, and do not 
 doubt but we will contrive to baflle the 
 schemes of these abandoned wretches, and 
 deliver your brother from their power." 
 
 When I had related my sad story, he 
 blamed me gently for not having at once 
 called on him for assistance. 
 
 " But this terrible letter ! Is it not possible 
 it mayl)e a forgery? The people from whom 
 you received it are, no doubt, well acquainted 
 with your brother's writing. May they not 
 have imitated it for thepur})Ose of frightening 
 you, and thus the more easily induce you to 
 com])ly with their deman<ls ? " 
 
 A gleam of hope seemed, for the moment, 
 to illumine my heart, as I listened to this 
 suggestion. I took the letter from his hand, 
 and eagerly scanned the formation of every 
 letter. Alas ! there was no ground for dis- 
 belief. Henry's writing was very peculiar: 
 owing to the fracture of his right thumb, 
 when a child, he was unable to 'hold the jmju 
 
 VOL. L M
 
 242 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 in the usual manner, although he could use it 
 with great rapidity. 
 
 This gave a marked singularity to his 
 writing, which it would have been very diffi- 
 cult to have imitated. 
 
 I returned the paper to Mr. Hurst with a 
 heavy sigh, and an assurance that it was 
 indeed written by my brother. 
 
 I spent the morning with the elder Mrs. 
 Hurst, who was taken into our confidence, 
 and it was by her advice that we finally 
 resolved to act. 
 
 " You may be quite sure, my dear, that if 
 your brother is residing with those wicked 
 persons, and has committed any crime of 
 which they are cognisant, that they are im- 
 plicated in it, and are in as much dread of 
 detection as he is. 
 
 " Go with this child, Philip, to the place 
 where she has promised to meet them with 
 the money. Tell them not one farthing 
 shall they receive till they reveal the place of 
 this unhappy young man's concealment ; and 
 if they refuse, or attempt to alarm you by 
 threats of the vengeance they can take on
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. ?4S 
 
 their victim, doclare your <letenninatiou lo 
 have them aj)|)rehendecl for extorting money 
 from Nelly by false representations. Kely 
 on it, they will be alarmed at the very idea 
 of being given into custody on such a charge, 
 and will give you the information you demand 
 rather than run the risk of being examinee] 
 before a magistrate. When you have thus 
 discovered the wretched boy's hiding-place, 
 it will be time to determine how you must 
 act towards his guilty confederates." 
 
 "My dear mother," said Mr. Hur^t, '' 1 
 am almost ready to exclaim with Shylock, 
 *a Daniel come to judgment!' We will 
 follow your advice to the letter, and I feel 
 convinced that good must result from doing 
 80. And now, Nelly, my child, cheer up ; 
 by God's helj), we shall release your brother 
 from the clutches of these harpies, and then 
 their power of tormenting you must cease. 
 Meet your mother and Rsther with a smiling 
 face, for they must remain in ignorance of all 
 the trouble which you, for their sakes, have 
 80 bravely borne ! " 
 
 "But, Mr. Hurst," asked I, " wiiat nm I 
 
 M 2
 
 244 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 to do about the money? Martha will not 
 get it for a week, and my mother will be sur- 
 prised if I do not furnish an account of it." 
 
 " Be easy on that point, Nelly. You shall 
 take home with you to-night what you require 
 for the purpose, only keep from her know- 
 ledge that which has occurred, and all will 
 yet be well." 
 
 I passed the remainder of that day in 
 almost happy tranquillity. The more I re- 
 flected on the counsel of Mrs. Hurst, the 
 more I was convinced of the justice of her 
 surmises respecting the fears Rachel and the 
 man Jasper would feel at the prospect of 
 beinof taken before a mao^istrate. 
 
 Martha took as hopeful a view as myself 
 of the benefit which must attend the inter- 
 ference of Mr. Hurst. And that night I 
 forgot, for several hours, in refreshing sleep, 
 the events which for two nights and days had 
 overwhelmed me with anxiety.
 
 MY ELDKST BROTHER. 945 
 
 CHAPTKR \IV. 
 
 Very fortunately, during the six days I had 
 to pass before the evening of the one on 
 which that dreaded meeting was to take 
 place, my mother and sister were too much 
 occupied in cutting out and arranging work 
 to observe that I was more silent than usual ; 
 but if I did not talk, I worked incessantly, 
 in the hope that constant employment would 
 assist in banishing reflection. 
 
 Esther was to be no exception to the gene- 
 rality of brides. She was to be furnished 
 with a wardrobe sufficiently ample to supjdy 
 her wants for years to come ; and I was very 
 thankful that the preparations for her we<I- 
 ding were likely to occupy my molher'B 
 thou'^hts for some time, and thus prevent
 
 ^46 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 them from dwelling on the long silence of my 
 brother Henry. 
 
 I passed the day on which I was to pur- 
 chase the silence of his vile associate at the 
 Vicarage, and shortly before the appointed 
 time walked with Mr. Harst to the spot 
 where I had formerly met him. We reached 
 it just as the clock was striking the hour. 
 Minute after minute passed away, yet no 
 sound of footsteps met our ears, no figure 
 started up through the gloom, to claim the 
 fulfilment of the promise I had made that 
 night week. 
 
 With slow and noiseless steps we paced up 
 and down the path from which we could look 
 into the orchard, scarcely venturing to speak 
 lest we should lose the first intimation of the 
 approach of him I at once longed, yet dreaded 
 to behold. 
 
 The night was bitterly cold, but so still, 
 that the faintest sound was distinctly audible; 
 I could even hear the beating of my own 
 heart as I stood gazing into the darkness, 
 expecting each moment to behold the form
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 247 
 
 and hear tlio inockin;; tones of that dotrsted 
 man. 
 
 My raind was so wholly absorbed with the 
 hopes and fears regarding the result of this 
 interview, that I was unconscious of the lapse 
 of time, till Mr. Hurst roused me by saying, 
 " Nelly, you must now go in ; the chimes 
 have gone the half hour, and we will wait no 
 longer." 
 
 ** I cannot go — indeed I cannot go yet !" 
 I replied. '' He will come, and not finding 
 me here, will do as the woman threatened, 
 and force himself into my mother's presence." 
 
 *' I will not allow you to remain longer, 
 Nelly. I do not believe you have any further 
 ground for apprehension. My first surmise 
 respecting the letter was correct. It is a vile 
 forgery, concocted for the j)urj)Ose of extort- 
 ing money from your fears. They will not 
 venture to molest you more, now that they 
 are aware you have acquainted your friemU 
 with the whole story — and they have dis- 
 covered that fact from tracking us here to- 
 night. I only wish," ad<led he, raising liis 
 voice, "that this man had I>o<'ii iinjuident
 
 248 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 enough to have met us, and, as I have no 
 doubt he is lurking somewhere here, I shall 
 look narrowly as I return through the lanes, 
 and endeavour to discover his hiding-place." 
 
 I entered the house with my mind lightened 
 of its heavy load. I suffered myself to believe 
 Mr. Hurst was right, that the letter was 
 never written by Henry, and that having 
 watched us from the Vicarage, they were 
 aware their power over my fears was at an 
 end. 
 
 This hope became certainty as weeks 
 passed, and I heard no further tidings from 
 the woman or my brother. My health and 
 spirits revived as the time went on, and once 
 more I dared look to the future without 
 dread. Spring came and went, and summer 
 had advanced nearly to the end of July, and 
 still nothing more was heard by me of Henry. 
 
 Esther had continued to gain strength, and 
 Gerald triumphantly declared she wanted 
 nothing but one winter in Italy to be as 
 well as before her accident, and boasted that 
 when he brought her home .in the following 
 May, Martha w^ould not know her nursling.
 
 MY ELDK8T HUOTllER. 249 
 
 My sibtor IkkI insisted on tflliii^' (loraM all 
 the particulars of Henry's misconduct as far 
 as they were known to herself. 
 
 " It is very painful/' said she, when she 
 informed me of her intentions — " it is very 
 })ainful to have such things to disclose of my 
 brother, but it would be both weak and 
 wicked to become the wife of an honourable 
 man, and leave liiiii in ii^^norance of tluit 
 which might cause him afterwards to reproach 
 me with duplicity, and to regret he had be- 
 stowe<l his name on a woman nearly allied to 
 one whose conduct, if known, would reflect 
 disgrace on all connected with him. I may 
 feel humiliated by disclosing a brothers 
 errors, but my husband shall never have 
 reason to accuse me of deceiving him." 
 
 Ah ! thought I, there is little danger to !».• 
 apprehended, that anything you can impart 
 to Gerald will cause him to love you one iota 
 the less, or even to refuse Henry's hand na a 
 brother, if he were here to offer it ; but if he 
 knew all that I could tell him — that he had 
 committed crimes which rendered him ame- 
 nable to the laws of his country — that he had 
 
 M5
 
 250 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 been the friend and associate of midnight 
 robbers and assassins — would his love be 
 strong enough to brave the obloquy of such a 
 connexion ? 
 
 The wedding was to take place in the first 
 week in August. A fortnight before the 
 time, Walter and Edmund arrived at home. 
 Walter was to appear at the ceremony in the 
 dignified character of father, and give the 
 bride away. Edmund was equally proud at 
 being selected to officiate as best man to the 
 bridegroom, while Maude Headiey — a niece of 
 Mr. Lancester's — and myself were to be the 
 bridesmaids. 
 
 In the midst of all the bustle attending the 
 preparations for this, the first festival I ever 
 remembered in our family, I hoped my mother 
 would be too much, and happily occupied, to 
 think with anxiety of Henry ; but I was de- 
 ceived. When Walter allowed his boyish 
 exultation to appear at being appointed to 
 such an office at his sister's wedding, she 
 said, sadly, 
 
 " I wonder he does not feel that his havino- 
 to act as his brother's proxy ought to be a
 
 MY ELDEST nROTIIER. 251 
 
 subject of re^xi'ot. My poor Henry I no one 
 but his mother renieml>ers that he is an exile 
 striving — j)erlKij)s in the midst from his liome, 
 of (lauirers — to blot out the remembrance* of 
 his youthful errors." 
 
 I do not think ever d:uii,diter love<l lier 
 mother more devotedly than I did mine, 
 yet when she used to accuse me indirectly 
 with unkindness to him whose crimes I had 
 at such fearful sufferini^ to myself kept from 
 her knowle<l<j:e, an<l whom, unworthy as be 
 was, I felt was dearer to her than myself, 1 
 couM not sometimes refrain from thinking' 
 her unkind and inconsiderate; and, without 
 reflecting she was ignorant of the reasons 
 I had to dread his return, I more than once 
 answered her words of regret at his absence 
 with some careless remark, expressive of my 
 own conviction that it was better he should 
 be away. 
 
 As the day drew nearer and nearer which 
 was to take my dear sister from us, I became 
 nervously uneasy lest some obstacle sbould 
 arise which might turn the house of joy
 
 252 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 into the house of mourning. Each arrival 
 of the post was dreaded, for fear it should 
 bring tidings which might hinder the marriage 
 from taking place. Let me, I thought, but 
 be assured of Esther's happiness, and I will 
 never indulge in anticipations of evil again. 
 Oh ! that the day were past, and my heart at 
 peace on her account ! 
 
 It came, and brought no shadow to darken 
 its brightness ; all was as unclouded as the 
 brilliant sunshine which poured through the 
 eastern window of the old church, and cast a 
 radiance on the group which clustered round 
 the altar. 
 
 Never did bride look more lovely than my 
 sweet sister, never did woman pledge a purer 
 or more loving heart in that holy temple to 
 the man who vowed to love and cherish her 
 for ever. 
 
 There was no parade in our quiet home 
 that day. It was not a gay wedding, but it 
 was a tolerably cheerful one. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Hurst returned with us after the ceremony, 
 not to partake of an elaborate breakfast, and 
 listen to unmeaning speeches, but to bid
 
 MY ELDKST HROTHER. t>53 
 
 farewell to GeniUl mul his hri.le. Mv mother 
 struggled bravely to hide her sorrow at part- 
 ing from her best loved daughter, and I trieil 
 hard to forget I had for ever lost the friend 
 and companion of my whole life — that 
 Geralifs wife could never be to me the sister 
 Esther of my youth. 
 
 Gerald allowed but short time for leave- 
 taking. I felt that alVection for us all in- 
 duced him to hurry his wife away — that the 
 longer the parting was protracted, the more 
 painful it would prove — but when I could no 
 Ioniser discern the carria'^e which conveved 
 her from me, I threw my arms round my 
 mother's neck, and wej>t unchecked on her 
 bosom. 
 
 When calm enough to observe it, 1 was 
 shocked at seeing how very wretched she 
 herself looked. " It is nothing, Nelly," she 
 answered, to my in(|uiries : ** but a mother 
 cannot part from her children without great 
 sorrow." 
 
 " I will never leave you, mamma !" cried I; 
 ** but, oh ! if you could but love mo as you 
 do Esther and Henry !"
 
 254 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 She looked both pained and surprised at 
 my vehemence. " Why should you doubt 
 my affection for you, Nelly ? It is true that 
 your brother and sister have engrossed more 
 of my thoughts than yourself, but have they 
 not stood in greater need of my care? Re- 
 member, it is not very long ago since you 
 were the chief cause of my anxiety, and even 
 Esther was neglected for your sake. Think, 
 my child, of the last words addressed to you 
 by your father — I remember them well — he 
 predicted that your eagerness to receive what 
 you considered proofs of affection, would 
 eventually occasion you unhappiness. But now 
 go to our guests ; we must not suffer them 
 to think they are uncared or unwished for. 
 I will join you soon, and Esther's wedding- 
 day shall not be rendered gloomy by recol- 
 lections of the past." 
 
 It was utterly impossible that any one 
 could be otherwise than cheerful with such 
 companions as Mr. Lancester, Maude Headley, 
 and my young brothers. They laughed so 
 heartily at my dismal face when I entered the 
 room where they were assembled, that I soon
 
 MY i:ldest BUOTIIER. $55 
 
 felt ashamed of my seltisli regrets, and when 
 my mother joined us at dinner, she appeared 
 surprised to find me the gayest of that merry 
 party. Mr. Lancester and my hrothers were 
 to leave us the next morning. My mother 
 had consented that her sons should pass the 
 next twelvemonths in Hanover, and our good 
 friend was to leave England with them in a 
 few days, and see them safely consigned to 
 the care of the gentleman under whose charge 
 they were to remain. 
 
 Wlien Ave were separating for the niglit, 
 Mr. Lancester asked me to he down early the 
 following morning, as he had something par- 
 ticular to say to me before he left ; a<lding, 
 as he saw my look of alarm at his words — 
 
 ** Don't look so terrified, Nelly ; it is nothing 
 very formiilable, though a matter of some 
 consequence to your mother. But you need 
 not let your imagination conjure up anything 
 evil enough to occasion you to sleep lesi? 
 soundly than usual." 
 
 I could not avoid feeling that whatever 
 might he the purport of that communication, 
 it was something which would be j)roductive
 
 ^56 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 of vexation, or why was it to be kept secret 
 from my mother. Eager to know in what 
 shape evil was now to come, I was in the 
 garden, the following morning, two hours 
 before the breakfast-hour, and waited impa- 
 tiently for half that time the appearance of 
 my friend. 
 
 He did not keep me long in ignorance of 
 the subject he had to discuss. 
 
 '' I am going, Nelly, to speak to you 
 relative to your mother's affairs. You know 
 the extent of her income, but perhaps you 
 are not aware that the capital from which it 
 was derived has been greatly diminished re- 
 cently. You, no doubt, remember when the 
 first inroad was made on it ; and although 
 it was only for such a small sum as three 
 hundred pounds, it was a great misfortune ; 
 for it showed with what facility money 
 could be obtained by your mother, when 
 she required more than her regular income 
 sufficed. Since you have been at Brookfields, 
 your expenses have been much greater than 
 they should in prudence have been. 
 
 " Do not interrupt me, Nelly. I know
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 257 
 
 you have not spent tocj profusely here. Hut 
 recollect that heavy t^xpenses are goin«^ on at 
 Streathani ; that they have, during the last 
 year, increased considerably for Walter and 
 Edmund ; and that a larire — a vorv larire 
 sum — was appropriated to Henry when ho 
 quitted England. 
 
 " Your mother has also — contrary to my 
 earnest wishes — spent more than was either 
 necessary or j)rudent on Esther. Your illness 
 last year was a most unfortunate event, for it 
 compelled her to take the management of her 
 affairs in her own hands ; and without the 
 least idea of acting imprudently, she has 
 managed to involve them to a considerahle 
 extent. At this time you ought not to allow 
 the whole of your expenditure to exceed five 
 hundred a year ; and fully half that sum will 
 be required for some time to come by your 
 brothers, if they are to complete their edu- 
 cation, as it is proposed, in Germany." 
 
 I was perfectly astonished at this revelation. 
 1 knew that my mother had obtiiined some 
 money recently, independent of her regular 
 resources; but certiinly a thousand pounds
 
 258 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 would cover all that I knew of, including the 
 three hundred advanced through Mr. Bingley. 
 And though I had never heard how much she 
 bestowed on Henry when he left for Canada, 
 I could not believe it could be anything 
 like the amount which Mr. Lancester had told 
 me was withdrawn from the funds. 
 
 ** What sum did my mother advance 
 Henry ? " inquired I. 
 
 " Two thousand pounds ! " 
 
 "Then, Mr. Lancester, you must be mis- 
 taken in the amount you say has been spent. 
 I am sure we have not expended more than a 
 thousand pounds in addition to the eight 
 hundred of our income." 
 
 "I know that, Nelly; but, unfortunately, 
 when your mother was in London, she went 
 with your brother to some stockbroker, to 
 sell out the sum he required ; and was per- 
 suaded it would be greatly to her advantage 
 to entrust a few thousands to him, in order, 
 as he expressed it, that by a few lucky 
 turns of the market she might be enabled 
 to replace the sum she had just withdrawn 
 from the funds. I knew nothing of this tran-
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 259 
 
 saction till a few days ago, when I beard 
 this man had failed for an immense sum, and 
 that your mother's name figured amongst his 
 creditors. When I called at your house at 
 Streatham the day before I left London, Susan 
 gave me an ofHcial looking letter to bring 
 down which I instantly recognised as a com- 
 munication from the assignees of the bankrupt; 
 but I resolved not to sadden our children's 
 we<iilini^ by beincr the bearer of bad tidinirs. 
 
 ** Now that you know all this, Nelly, you 
 will see the necessity of retrenchment. You 
 cannot continue to maintain two establish- 
 ments. If you do not intend to return to 
 the house at Streatham, persuade your 
 mother to find a tenant for it ; and that will 
 at once remove all your difhculties. If she 
 consents to do so, I will arrange that she 
 shall have no trouble respecting it. 
 
 ** And now clear your brow, and let us 
 go in to breakfast. Don't send Walter and 
 Edmund away melancholy. They are both 
 fine follows, and years should pass over their 
 heads before they know the meaning of the 
 word ' care ! ' "
 
 260 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 I thought, as I looked at their happy faces 
 when I entered the room, where they were 
 seated at breakfast, that there was little fear 
 of their noticing the expression of anxiety on 
 my own. But I wronged their kind hearts 
 by such a supposition. They did observe my 
 depression, although they attributed it to 
 their own departure and my separation from 
 my sister. 
 
 " Dear Nell," said Walter, as he passed 
 his arm round my waist, '* I am grieved to 
 see you look so sad. You will indeed miss 
 Esther greatly ; but cheer up, twelve months 
 will soon pass away and then we shall be 
 home. Edmund and I will write you long 
 long letters about all we see and do. Be- 
 sides," he added, in a whisper, casting a 
 schoolboy's shy glance of admiration at 
 Maude, " you will have Miss Headley with 
 you for some weeks, and she is so lively and 
 good-tempered, that you will soon recover 
 your spirits." 
 
 " Now then, sir ! " cried Edmund, at this 
 moment, who had been impatiently watching 
 Mr. Lancester eating his breakfast. '^ Here's
 
 MY ELDEST BROTIIEK. 261 
 
 your hat and stick. We shall be too late 
 for the train. The lly has been waiting this 
 half hour. Come along, Walter, we must say 
 good-bye once more to mamma ! " 
 
 There was a rushing up stairs, which I 
 knew would unsettle my mother's nerves for 
 the day ; a few rather boisterous kisses on 
 my own cheek from the boys ; an affectionate 
 farewell from Mr. l.ancester, and I was left 
 with no one but my mother to love and care 
 for, duriuLT twelve lon^:: months !
 
 262 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 I HAVE made hitherto but slight mention of 
 Maude Headley, and yet she is to play a 
 prominent part in the after portion of my 
 life. 
 
 She was the daughter of Mr. Lancester's 
 only sister, and, at the time she arrived at 
 Brookfields, was between seventeen and 
 eighteen years of age. She would not 
 have been considered pretty at first sight; 
 at least, I did not think her so, as she stood 
 by the side of Esther. She was very short 
 and slight, with a clear, brown complexion ; 
 to which exercise, or any pleasurable excite- 
 ment, brought almost too vivid a colour. 
 
 When her face was in repose, I have heard 
 persons remark that her mouth, which was
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 1263 
 
 very wide, quite spoiled her appeariince ; hut 
 the teeth were so white and beautifully 
 formed, as fully to compensate for this de- 
 fect, when talking in the animated aud joyous 
 manner which was natural to her, " and 
 when,'' said Walter, " her dark eyes sparkled 
 and flashed as brilliantly as diamonds in the 
 sunshine." 
 
 She has never known a care or sorrow, 
 thought I, as I looked in her bright face and 
 listened to her happy laugh. She can never 
 be more than a fine weather friend. It would 
 be vain to look for help or sympathy from 
 her, in times of afiliction or anxiety. I mis- 
 judged my new friend as I had done others. 
 The sun gladdens us by its warmth, though 
 its brightness dazzles our eyesight. 
 
 Maude's nature was sunny, but I soon dis- 
 covered it could be clouded when the hearts 
 of those she loved were bowed down l)y 
 calamity. 
 
 Her father had been dead more than 
 two years, but her mother continued to 
 reside in the secluded village of which, 
 for a great number of yeai*s, he had
 
 264 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 been the pastor. Since her widowhood, 
 Mr. Lancester had been urgent in wishing 
 her to leave Baymouth, and reside with 
 him at Streatham ; but hitherto she had 
 resisted all his entreaties to do so, although 
 it would have brought her near her only son, 
 who resided in chambers in the Temple. 
 
 " Mamma will never leave Baymouth," said 
 Maude one day, when speaking to me con- 
 cerning her home-life, " and though I do 
 sometimes grumble and say it is dull, yet I 
 love the dear old place too well to wish to 
 exchange it for such a make-believe sort of 
 country existence as Streatham affords. I 
 have heard the sea roar in winter and murmur 
 in summer, ever since I was born, and do not 
 think I could live happily away from its 
 neighbourhood. I have read a great deal of 
 the love of the Swiss for their mountain 
 homes, but I think it can hardl}^ surpass that 
 which those born and nurtured on the coast 
 feel at the sound and sight of the sea. You 
 must go back with me, Nelly, and see how 
 different you will feel as you inhale the pure.
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 965 
 
 bracing air ; it will bring fresh life into your 
 frame, fresh hoj>e and joy into your heart." 
 
 **OhI" answered I, ungraciously, for I 
 was rather annoyed at her contemptuous 
 mention of Streatham. " I have seen the sea 
 often enough. I used to go to Brighton 
 every year before Esther w.is ill, .'ind I did 
 not care much about it." 
 
 '* Brighton!" answered Maude. "Oh' if 
 you have no remembrances of the sea but 
 those connected with Brighton, I am not sur- 
 prised at your apathy respecting it. If any- 
 thing could destroy the poetry of the ocean, 
 it would be the great staring houses and the 
 crowds of peojde who flock to that place, 
 not to gaze at the sea, but each other. No ; 
 I don't care for it myself with the accom- 
 paniments of brass bands and gaslights. To 
 love the sea you must behold it as poets have 
 loved to depict it. Could Crabbc have 
 written his glorious lines if he liad never 
 beheld it but from the * King's Road ' ? 
 Listen ! and then remember this is the sea I 
 will show you, and which will dash almost 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 ^66 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 against the wall of the room in which you 
 will sleep : 
 
 ' Various and vast, sublime in all its forms, 
 When lull'd by zephyrs and when rous'd by storms. 
 Its colours changing, when from clouds and sun. 
 Shades after shades upon the surface run. 
 Embrown'd and horrid now ; and now serene, 
 In limpid blue and evanescent green.' " 
 
 *' Well," said I, when Maude had finished 
 her recitation, " 1 suppose the colour of the 
 sea is not altered at Brighton because there 
 are plenty of persons to view it. It must be 
 just the same there as at Bay mouth." 
 
 " No doubt, Nelly ; and a storm is a storm 
 whether beheld by the glare of gaslights or 
 by the fitful glimpses of the moon, and yet 
 you look on it with very different feelings. But 
 I will quote my favourite poet again, and 
 then judge for yourself ' of the sublime and 
 beautiful ' : 
 
 ' From parted clouds, the moon her radiance throw; 
 On the wild waves, and all the danger shows, 
 But shows them beaming in her shining vest. 
 Terrific splendour, gloom in glory drest. 
 This for a moment, and then clouds again 
 Hide every beam, and fear and darkness reign.
 
 MY r.i.Di-sT r.iuynir.u. 267 
 
 Rut hear wc not ihu<o sounds? Do lij^^hts appear 'r 
 I sec tlicni not ; the storm alone I liear ; 
 Anil as the sjiilors homeward take their way ; 
 Men must endure — let us submit and pray.' " 
 
 " You arc ri^bt, Maude," said I, when she 
 had finished speakino^, *'the sea in all its 
 sublimity is unknown to me. How strange I 
 should never have read a line of the poet 
 who points with such marvellous power its 
 terrific beauty." 
 
 "Not at all strange, Nelly — few young 
 ladies do read him ; but my father prized 
 him, after Shakespeare and ^Milton, above all 
 other poets. He was one of our household 
 gods; loved and admired the more, because 
 we were daily and hourly witnesses of the 
 fidelity with which he painted both the scenes 
 and the characters, amongst which the early 
 part of his life w^as passed. 1 have often 
 wondered how. with his intense love for the 
 ocean, he could have lived so many years in 
 an inland town. Occasionally though, ho 
 must have f«dt an uncontrollable desire to 
 l,..].r>]J If. for his son records that he once 
 
 N 2
 
 268 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 mounted his horse and rode sixty miles to 
 obtain a glimpse of it." 
 
 " But your own brother, Maude, appears 
 to live happily away from it ; though he, 
 like yourself, spent all his early life on the 
 coast." 
 
 " Yes, he is contented enough, I believe ; 
 but I often feel angry with him for not being 
 miserable in London. Yet, as the greater 
 portion of his time must be spent there, it is 
 as well he should prefer ' the busy hum of 
 men ' to the roar of the mighty ocean. But 
 1 am often vexed with him for his insensi- 
 bility on this account, though I am not the 
 less proud of my brother ; and shall be dis- 
 appointed if you do not like him when he 
 comes to fetch me in October, when, please 
 to remember, you are to go with us to Bay- 
 mouth." 
 
 " You are very kind to wish me to visit 
 you, Maude ; but I have never left my 
 mother, and never intend doing so." 
 
 *' Then why cannot Mrs. Travers come 
 with you ? My mother will be delighted to 
 meet her again ; and I am sure it will be
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. Q69 
 
 better for both than Jiiopiii^^ here by your- 
 selves. I will write to iiuiinma this very day, 
 and desire her to send the proper invitation 
 directly. And do you, Nelly, induce your 
 mother to accept it." 
 
 I endeavoured to dissuade Maude from 
 writing to Mrs. Ileadley on such a subject. 
 I knew my mother would refuse to leave 
 home ; and that if it was possible to <i;et 
 over that difliculty, the state of our finance> 
 would not warrant our incurrin": unnecessary 
 expenses. 
 
 Maude laughed at all my excuses. 
 
 " I am never bafiled, Nelly, when I have 
 really set my heart on any project ; and you 
 will find yourself listening to the music oi 
 the waves before many weeks have blown 
 over the head which has been shaking so 
 wisely at all my persuasions for the last half- 
 hour." 
 
 Maude's love for her only brother amounted 
 almost to idolatry. She was never weary <>i 
 talking of him, and had not, I believe, a 
 thought in which he was not in some measure 
 associated.
 
 270 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 She kept, in compliance with his wish, a 
 journal in which every event which occurred 
 in her quiet life — and, I believe, nearly every 
 feeling which arose in her heart — was re- 
 corded. 
 
 This was forwarded to him weekly in lieu 
 of an ordinary letter, and he, in return, sent 
 her long and amusing descriptions of the 
 manner in which his own hours of relaxation 
 were spent. 
 
 I could not, from my friend's account of 
 her brother, form tlie least idea of his real 
 character. Sometimes I was disposed to 
 imagine he must be of a grave, retiring 
 disposition, fond of solitude, and too much 
 absorbed in contemplation to be either an 
 agreeable or amiable companion ; and at other 
 times she would relate instances of his love of 
 frolic and daring adventure, which it was 
 difficult to associate with the character of a 
 man devoted to a studious profession. 
 
 My mother and Mrs. Headley had been 
 friends in girlhood, but owing to the distance 
 which separated them when, the latter married, 
 the intimacy gradually failed, till nothing
 
 MY ELDEST BROTH ER. ^71 
 
 remained to reiniiid them of it, except occa- 
 sional friendly remembrances transmitted to 
 each other through the medium of ^Ir. 
 Lancester. 
 
 When tlie letter of invitation arrived, 1 
 was fully prepared for my mother's declinin<r 
 to accept it. She ^i^ave it to me with an ex- 
 pression of annoyance on her countenance. 
 
 " See, Nelly, how uni^racious I must appear 
 when I decline the affectionate entreaties of 
 my old friend, Maude Lancester; but shr 
 little knows what an altered being she ad- 
 dresses. Her own life has passed so happily, 
 that she cannot comprehend the wretchedness 
 in which such a large portion of mine has 
 been spent." 
 
 ** But she, too, is a widow, mamma; and 
 Maude has told me how greatly she suffered 
 when her father was taken from thorn." 
 
 ''One sorrow, Nelly, to counterbalance a 
 host of blessings ! Do you think I have not 
 always been painfully conscious of the anxiety 
 my own wretched state has occasioned all I 
 have loved, that I have been a care and sorrow
 
 272 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 to all around me, and incapable of properly 
 discharging the duties of wife or mother." 
 
 '' And, dearest mother," interrupted I, 
 eagerly, " loved all the more tenderly for the 
 very reasons you deplore." 
 
 " I know it, Nelly. I was never insensible 
 of the blessings I possessed in the love of 
 husband and children ; but think of my other 
 causes of unhappiness — your sister's pitiable 
 condition for so many years, and more than 
 the loss of husband or the crippled state of 
 mv child — think of the tears of ano^uish I have 
 shed ; of the misery I still endure on account 
 of your unhappy brother ; and then you will 
 not compare my lot, for a moment, with that 
 of my old friend. I have had many sorrows 
 to weep for, she but one. 
 
 "Mrs. Headley does not weep, mamma, 
 Maude tells me ; she is patiently resigned to 
 God's will, and would consider it sinful to 
 mourn as one without hope, because he she 
 loved better than herself was chosen earlier 
 for eternal felicity." 
 
 Greatly distressed at her evident unhap- 
 piness, I endeavoured to comfort her by
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 27 3 
 
 reiiiiiidinii: her llitit she had many blessings 
 even now to be grateful for; that Esther's 
 present happiness more tlian compensated 
 for the pain and anxiety we had formerly 
 sutlered on her account. 
 
 ** Besides, dearest mother," added I, " think 
 of our dear Walter and Edmund, and of the 
 comfort they will soon prove to you ; and do 
 not believe Mrs. Headley has more sources of 
 happiness than yourself." 
 
 '' That will do, dear. I am quite satisfied 
 Mrs. lleadley has no one who loves her more 
 than my Nelly does her thankless mother. 
 But will you answer this letter, and tell her 
 how impossible it is for me to avail myself of 
 her kindness." 
 
 Maude was greatly disappointed when told 
 of my mother's decision, and accused me of 
 not caring to visit her home. 
 
 *' I tell you what it is, Nelly ; your mother 
 wants a companion to whom she can open her 
 heart and obtain the sympathy she longs for. 
 She will not do so to you for fear of saddening 
 you. But I feel sure she has some ever- 
 present grief ou her heart, and each day she 
 
 N 5
 
 ^74 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 will find the weight of it become greater, 
 unless she confides it to one capable of coun- 
 selling her how to bear it. Since your father's 
 death, it has only been some unusual excite- 
 ment which has roused her to exertion of any 
 kind — such as you told me your illness 
 produced, and, in a minor degree, the prepa- 
 rations for Esther's marriage. She reminds 
 me of the Alpine travellers I have read of, 
 who, when overcome by the cold, would sink 
 into heavy slumbers, from which they would 
 never awaken if not violently aroused from 
 the torpidity which steals over their faculties. 
 She should be saved from mental death in the 
 same rude manner, and you should devise 
 some means by which it can effectually be 
 done." 
 
 I pondered seriously over Maude's words, 
 and could not but acknowledge their truth. 
 I remembered how afraid I was to tell her of 
 Henry's abstracting the money from the bank, 
 and how the necessity for exertion dissipated 
 the apathy which had followed my father's 
 death.
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 275 
 
 Then I reflected on the wonls Mrs. Hurst 
 had spoken to me concerning her. 
 
 ** Your mother lives only in the pa.'-t and 
 future — the one she cannot think of without 
 sorrow, the other without ai)prehension. W<' 
 must ^et her to care for the present." 
 
 The hope of Esther's recovery had supplied 
 this stimulus for the time, and when that was 
 rendered certain, the preparations for her 
 marriage occupied her mind for some time. 
 Rut now, if Maude's surmises were correct 
 — and she was insensibly, to me, falling back 
 into the listless apathy from which my illness 
 liad roused her — what would become of us 
 both ? 
 
 But it was (le^Liin'il mv tears jshuuld iiul 
 be realised. A letter from Henry dispelled 
 her anxiety and my secret apprehensions on 
 his account. I could scarcely believe tin- 
 evidence of my eyesight when it was placed 
 in my hands. It was addressed to myself, 
 but tlie envelope also contained a sealed lott»M 
 for my mother. 
 
 It was dated from Montreal ; and mint- 
 consisted only of a few lines very aflfectionately
 
 276 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 worded. Its purport was that as so long a 
 time had elapsed since he had written home, 
 he feared the sudden sight of his handwriting 
 might agitate his mother, and, therefore, he 
 had enclosed it to me that I might prepare 
 her to receive it. 
 
 It is impossihle to convey an idea of the 
 conflicting feelings with which I perused this 
 letter. Henry, in Canada, writing to me 
 aifectionately ! No mention made of any visit 
 to England since he had quitted it the previous 
 year, gave me the certainty that the letter I 
 had received from the hands of Jasper Coxe 
 was a vile fabrication. Now, then, all my 
 doubts were dissipated, and I might live in 
 the blessed assurance that his power over 
 me was ended. It was true Mr. Hurst had 
 succeeded in convincing my reason on that 
 point, but my fears were never silenced. I 
 still could not, without a shudder of terror, 
 pass the spot where that base woman had first 
 accosted me. 
 
 I suppose my face must have betrayed to 
 my mother I was the harbinger of joyful
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 277 
 
 HOWS, for, IIS I entered her room, she ox- 
 claiiiied — 
 
 " Nelly, have you heard from Esther ap^ain 
 to-day ? I do not know any other thinir tlmt 
 could make you look so joyous ! " 
 
 " No, dearest mother, my letter to-day is 
 more welcome than even one from my sister!" 
 
 I laid a slight stress on the word sister ; 
 and my mother, starting from her seat, 
 cried — 
 
 *^ It is from Henry ! It is from my son '. 
 Oh ! quick, quick, Nelly ! let me see the proof 
 that he is still living ! " 
 
 I first put into lier hands the few lines 
 addressed to me, and when she had read 
 them, gave her the letter to herself. Before 
 hreaking the seal, she pressed it to her lips, 
 and, hursting into tears, said — 
 
 "Leave me, my dear, for a time — I must 
 thank God for this great mercy, hefore 1 
 gladden my eyes with the words addressed to 
 me hy my child ! " 
 
 I hastened to tell Martha tlie joyful n«nvs 
 of Henry's safety and absence from luigland ; 
 and her heart, like my own, was lightened of
 
 278 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 a heavy burthen by the intelligence I im- 
 parted. 
 
 When recalled by my mother, she was still 
 weeping ; but seeing my look of distress, she 
 said — 
 
 " Do not look so grieved, Nelly : these are 
 tears of joy and gratitude. Read your 
 brother's letter, and see if I have not reason 
 to shed them. God has hearkened to my 
 prayers, and preserved my son from sin and 
 from danger ! " 
 
 The letter was long and affectionate. He 
 spoke hopefully of his present condition ; but 
 expressed his regret that his past errors 
 necessitated a banishment from home and 
 country. 
 
 His prospects, he stated, were encouraging 
 for the future. He had been received as 
 junior partner in a mercantile house at Mon- 
 treal, but without mentioning the firm to 
 which he was allied. He had delayed writing 
 till he could send satisfactory accounts of his 
 proceedings ; and now that his position was 
 assured, he had not lost an hour in imparting 
 the welcome intellis^ence to his mother.
 
 MY ELDEST liKOTHER. 279 
 
 The conclusion of his letter rather staggered 
 my belief in his prosperity. 
 
 " A confidential a^^ent in our house is on 
 the point of sailing for England ; business 
 transactions with a large house in Liverpool 
 will detain him there for a short time, and he 
 will bring me letters from home. As it was a 
 condition, when admitted a partner in this 
 firm, that I should place five hundred pounds 
 more in the business, I ventured to agree to 
 such a stipulation, sure, ray dearest mother, 
 that you would enable me to keep my word, 
 by assisting me with the necessary amount. 
 Our agent will take charge of the money in 
 the letter you address to me, if you will 
 transmit it to him. 
 
 ** His address will be, ^Ir. Onias Heath, 
 care of Messrs. Staples, Ship-agents, Liver- 
 pool." 
 
 ** Well, Nelly," said my mother, as I 
 returned her the letter, wliile her face looked 
 radiant with happiness, ** is not this enough to 
 rejoice our hearts, and render us thankful to 
 God ? I will tell you now what you would 
 never had known had we not received these
 
 280 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 glad tidings of my poor boy, that for months 
 past I have felt agonising remorse for allowing 
 him to leave England unaccompanied by my- 
 self. I have felt how criminal it was to launch 
 in a new world, and in a new career, one 
 so little capable of self-guidance ; and I am 
 blessed far above my deserts for such a de- 
 sertion of a mother's duties ! " 
 
 That my mother could, even in a wild 
 dream, have thought of leaving Esther and 
 myself, to follow the uncertain career which 
 the vices of Henry had compelled him to 
 adopt, was such an astounding thing, that I 
 could only gaze at her in speechless surprise 
 and consternation ! 
 
 ** Don't look so bewildered, Nelly, at my 
 words, or imagine from them that I love your 
 brother above my other children. But is it 
 not a mother's part to give her greatest care 
 to the one who stands in greatest need of it ? 
 And was not Henry the most helpless of 
 mine, in his inability to resist temptation 
 to evil ; was it not likely to assail him, when 
 thrown, without a friend to guide him among 
 strangers, in a strange land ? But now my
 
 MY ELDEST BROTIIEU. 281 
 
 fears on his account are at rest for ever ! 
 If safe for one year, and tluit tli«j most 
 perilous, from his being without friends or 
 em})h)}inent, surely we may trust him for 
 the future. Read the letter once more, 
 dear ! I did not observe the day he mentioned 
 for tiie money to reach Liverpool." 
 
 It was to be there on the twentieth of that 
 month. It was now the fifteenth. Surely 
 the at^ent would not have come to Enijland 
 for a few days only ! 
 
 " What is the date of the letter ? " asked 
 my mother. 
 
 I looked. It was Auirnst the eleventh. 
 Esther's wedding-day ! 
 
 " A happy omen, if we needed one, for 
 her happiness, Nelly ! " 
 
 " But still, mamma, I cannot understand 
 why we did not receive this letter earlier." 
 
 " Mr. Heath, in the inultij)licity of his 
 business, must have forgotten to post it, dear. 
 But we have no time to lose. I must start 
 with Martha for London, to-morrow, an<l pro- 
 cure this money. I can leave you with Maude, 
 without fear of your being lonely. And,
 
 282 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 Nelly," continued she, in a hesitating voice, 
 as if she was about to say what she felt I 
 should object to, " I should like to proceed 
 to Liverpool, and myself deliver it into the 
 custody of this person. What an addition 
 to my happiness it will be to converse with 
 one who not long since was in the society of 
 my son ! " 
 
 " Dear mamma," answered I, " pray allow 
 me to go with you instead of Martha. You 
 have been out so little lately — are so unfitted 
 for exertion — that I fear you will not prove 
 equal to the fatigue." 
 
 " The more reason for Martha's services, 
 then, Nelly, she wdll be a better prop to me 
 than you can be; but you surely remember 
 the words of your favourite poet, * A merry 
 heart goes all the way, a sad one tires in a 
 mile.' But the first step in this journey must 
 be taken to-night; write to Mr. Stockdale, 
 and acquaint him with my immediate neces- 
 sity for five hundred pounds." 
 
 The mention of that man's name brouofht 
 back to my recollection th^ conversation I 
 had held with Mr. Lancester on the mornino-
 
 MY ELDEST linOTIIEK. 283 
 
 of liihi departure. 1 Imd been expecting to 
 hear from liiin on the subject, and in compli- 
 ance with his advice waited till I did so, 
 before informing my mother of the heavy loss 
 she had sustained by her agent's failure. 
 Now it was imperative I should do so 
 directly. Still, however, reluctant to do it 
 abruptly, I inquired whether it would not be 
 more advisable to write and direct Mr. Bingley 
 to procure the money. 
 
 " No, Nelly," was the reply ; " 1 do not 
 like Mr. Bingley. The truth is, dear," she 
 added, ** he presumes too much on his know- 
 ledge of my afliiirs, and thinks, because your 
 father reposed much confidence in his judg- 
 ment, he is authorised to dictate to me on 
 subjects of which I alone am competent to 
 decide. Besides, it would only entail addi- 
 tional expense, as he cannot dispense with 
 the assistance of a stockbroker more than 
 myself." 
 
 1 had then to break to her the intelligence 
 of the heavy loss she had sustained through 
 her misplaced confi<lence in the person she 
 had formerly employed. Perlia[>s, if I had
 
 284 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 been compelled to acquaint her with it the 
 previous day, it might have affected her dif- 
 ferently; as it was, her heart was so com- 
 pletely filled with joy at the receipt of 
 Henry's letter, that I do not think she would 
 have experienced a moment's uneasiness had 
 the loss been of double the amount. 
 
 ** This is very unfortunate," she replied, 
 tranquilly, when I had finished my story, 
 " the more particularly as I dislike applying 
 to Mr. Bingley, and yet should object to 
 employ a total stranger to procure this 
 money." 
 
 " Let me write to Mr. Lancester, then, 
 mamma, and tell him you will be in town 
 to-morrow, and wish him to call on you as 
 soon as possible after your arrival." 
 
 To this my mother willingly consented, 
 and when I had finished my letter I walked 
 to the Vicarage for the purpose of communi- 
 cating my good news to my friends there, by 
 whom it was received with delight almost 
 equal to my own. 
 
 Mr. Hurst could not, however, refrain from 
 triumphing a little in his own penetration.
 
 MY F.LDEST BROTHER. 285 
 
 ** Did 1 nut tell you, Nelly, that you would 
 hear no more from your tormentors, tliiit 
 they knew the <5^ame was uj) from the moment 
 you confided their persecutions to those who 
 were sure to <letect the falsehoods they had 
 invented for the purpose of playing on your 
 fears. T think I am not doing my duty as a 
 friend if I do not endeavour to discover them, 
 and have them j)unished for the infamous 
 manner in which they extorted those sums of 
 money from you.'* 
 
 '' Pray do not, Mr. Ilurst !" said I. " That 
 money was given to keep secret from my 
 mother what I thought it would kill her to 
 become acquainted with, and of which I would 
 willin^flv she should for ever remain in iuiio- 
 ranee, no matter at what amount of suffer- 
 ing to myself." 
 
 " Well, Nelly, let the past rest in oblivion, 
 hut any further attempts on your tranquillity 
 and |)urse I must insist on resenting in my 
 own way."
 
 286 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 CHAPTEK XVI. 
 
 The next morning, my mother, resisting all 
 my entreaties for permission to accompany 
 her, departed with Martha for London. I 
 had endeavoured in vain to persuade her not 
 to visit Liverpool. I was certain such a long 
 and hurried journey would prove injurious to 
 her, but she was firm in her determination to 
 deliver the money herself into the hands of 
 my brother's agent. 
 
 " I shall not be assured he receives it 
 safely, Nelly, unless I go. The time is so 
 short, owing to his neglect in forwarding 
 your brother's letter, that he may possibly 
 leave Liverpool before the letter could reach 
 him ; I shall be able to do so as soon as the 
 post, and thus be certain it will not be lost."
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 287 
 
 My dear mother was, 1 believe, (piite un- 
 conscious that she was in reality very happy 
 the neirlisfence of Mr. Heath in forward- 
 in<j: Henry's letter gave her, as she considered, 
 a ]ep:itimate excuse for seeking an interview 
 with one who had recently j)artod from her 
 son, and thus enable her to gain more infor- 
 mation respecting him than his own letter 
 affordeil. Her face was again bright with 
 intelligence and joy — new life and strength 
 appeared to animate her frame. As she em- 
 braced me for the last time, she said, gaily, 
 
 ** Don't weep, Nelly, that I am leaving 
 you for a few days ; think only of the happi- 
 ness we shall both feel when I return to you, 
 still more assured of Henry's health and j)ro- 
 sperity. I feel that the gloom Avhich occa- 
 sionally steals over my heart has doj)arted for 
 ever. You will not oidy welcome back your 
 mother, but your friend and companion. 
 Take care of my Nelly, Maude, and <!() not 
 suiVer her to be apprehensive on my account ; 
 I could tnivel safely through the world under 
 the charge of such a faithful guardian as 
 this." She placed her hand on Martha's
 
 288 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 shoulder as she spoke, who looked nearly as 
 happy as her mistress. 
 
 *' Come, Nelly," cried Maude, when I could 
 no longer discern the train which carried my 
 mother away, ''let us return home at once. 
 I am appointed your custodian during your 
 mother's absence, and I intend to prove a 
 very arbitrary one ; you have nothing to look 
 so dismal about, the excitement of the jour- 
 ney will prove of the greatest service to Mrs. 
 Travers. Indeed, it seems incredible to me 
 that the bright face we have just lost sight 
 of, is the same woe-begone one I looked 
 on two days ago. If she was my mother, I 
 would take care she should never fall back 
 into the condition from which she has just 
 awakened." 
 
 " How would you prevent it, Maude ? You 
 have seen how gradually the shadow has crept 
 over her since Esther left us." 
 
 '* You have tried no means, Nelly, to check 
 the malady. You should have insisted on her 
 leaving this place directly after your sister's 
 wedding ; new ideas must displace old ones, 
 however rooted they may be in the mind.
 
 MV KLDJiST BKUTllEK. 289 
 
 It is the constant broudin;; over one particular 
 evil which fre(|uently leads to the commission 
 of suicide. Many may, perhaps, have heen 
 saved from ])er[)etratin^^ that dreadful crime, 
 by a i^reater calamity befallin": them than the 
 one they have sutVered to enp^ross all their 
 thou«jchts, and which they were willini; to face 
 death rather than endure. Even personal 
 discomforts, and those of the most petty kind, 
 will often prove serviceable to a ' mind dis- 
 eased.' There are few cases in which mental 
 pain does not yield to physical. When 1 
 see anyone lookin«^ particularly miserable, I 
 always wish they could have a good strong 
 fit of toothache; it would do them a great 
 deal of good in a moral point of view." 
 
 "Thank God! Maude, there will he no fear 
 for the future. Once convinced of Henry's 
 safety and well doing, she will have no pain- 
 ful subjects on which to meditate." 
 
 ** If you think tiiat, Nelly, you have pro- 
 fited very little by exjierience. One so accus- 
 tomed as your mother to feel apprehension 
 for a beloved object, will not ca>ily believe 
 there is no longer Ciiuse for anxiety." 
 
 VOL. 1. O
 
 290 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 " But if we hear frequently from Henry, 
 as he has promised we shall," said I, " there 
 will really be no ground for uneasiness." 
 
 *' Very true, (f you do, Nelly; but you 
 have told me he never has been a good corre- 
 spondent, and his silence will infallibly be 
 interpreted by your mother as a proof of mis- 
 fortune having overtaken him. The only 
 thing good that could happen to her," con- 
 tinued my lively friend, '' would be evil — 
 paradoxical, but true. I wish something very 
 disagreeable would happen to you, Nelly, 
 such as we read of in novels — your banker 
 run off with your money, or a fire destroy 
 your most valuable property the very day 
 your insurance had expired, or your lawyer 
 discover that the sum you had lent on mort- 
 gage was all lost in consequence of a flaw in 
 the title-deeds. Of course, under such cir- 
 cumstances, you would be too high-minded 
 to receive assistance from your friends, and 
 you would consent to live in the old haunted 
 house at Baymouth, where two rooms would 
 be made habitable for you; and you would 
 make beautiful drawings of the beautiful
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 291 
 
 views in the neM«rlil)oiirlioo<l, an<l I would sen<l 
 them to I.ondon, ami Cuthhert should dispose 
 of them to some enthusiastic amateur, and 
 your mother would be too solicitous for the 
 health and welfare of the child who was 
 workiiiir for her daily bread, to brood over 
 the iniai^nnary ills of the one who was absent; 
 and then, by and by, when yon are at the 
 lowest ebb of your fortunes, the tide should 
 turn ; the banker, or the lawyer, or the in- 
 surance people, will pay back all the money, 
 and the story end with my standin^^ as brides- 
 maid while you are ^^oin;j^ throu^^h the de- 
 linfhtful ceremony of matrimony with the 
 enthusiastic amateur, who must prove an earl 
 at the very least." 
 
 I lauirhed heartily at the lively romance 
 Maude ha«l constructed for my benefit, and 
 yet it awakened unpleasant reflections. 
 
 "I don't know, Maude," I answered, "that 
 I shall ever require your brother to walk 
 about London with a portfolio of my draw- 
 injjs uuiler his arm, but perhaps we may soon 
 be ^la<i to find a cheaper hon\e than this, and 
 if we are compelled to quit it, I will com- 
 
 o 2
 
 292 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 mission you to fit up the rooms in the 
 haunted house you talk of, and where I sup- 
 pose I am to make the acquaintance of the 
 noble earl you have so generously bestowed 
 on me. It would be some consolation during 
 our temporary distress, to reside near your- 
 self." 
 
 " You had better, then, go with me when 
 I return, and make acquaintance with your 
 future domicile. You will not only reside 
 near us, but under the same roof, for we have 
 some of the rooms in this same haunted 
 house ; there are plenty left, though, for you, 
 on the opposite side." 
 
 The next morning brought me a letter 
 from Martha. They had arrived safely at 
 Streatham, where, thanks to Susan's good 
 management, all was ready for their re- 
 ception. My mother was too much fatigued 
 to write herself, but would do so the following 
 day. 
 
 "What a blessing it is, my dear Miss 
 Nelly," wrote my faithful nurse, "that I have 
 left you without fear of your being troubled 
 by that bad man and woman ; had my mis
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 298 
 
 tress known and suflercd througli tlieir vile 
 falsehoods as you have done, she would never 
 have lived to see this haj)py day. Mr. Lan- 
 cester has just left her; he wished her to <;o 
 to his house while she remained in town, as 
 he thought it might he painful to be here 
 alone, but she told hira she was too grateful 
 to God for His present mercies to sutler her- 
 self to feel unhappy by the recollections of 
 past sorrows. She has not said positively 
 she will go to Liverpool to-morrow, but I do 
 not doubt she intends doing so." 
 
 The following morning brought me the 
 eagerly expected letter from my mother. She 
 had obtained the money through the agency 
 of Mr. Bingley, but evidently deeply resente<l 
 his remonstrances on the subject. 
 
 " He tells me, Nelly, that I ought to spend 
 only four, or, at the most, five hundre<l a 
 year, instead of eight. I am content to do 
 so. Your father left to me every shilling he 
 died possessed of, but it was for the benetit 
 of his children he reposed such confidence in 
 their mother; it is only for their sakes I 
 value the money. Is it not better 1 should
 
 294 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 have the delight of seeing them happy and 
 prosperous, than suffer them to wait for my 
 death to benefit by that I only hold in trust 
 for them ? I start to-morrow for Liverpool, 
 and will write to you from thence. You need 
 not be apprehensive I shall suffer from fatigue, 
 Martha will not allow me to exert myself 
 more than she considers prudent." 
 
 Satisfied that my mother was well and 
 happy, and that she would return to me 
 in a few days, I, for the first time since 
 she had been with me, really enjoyed the 
 gay companionship of my friend. We, at 
 the earnest request of Mrs. Hurst, passed 
 the greater portion of our time at the Vicar- 
 age, where Maude became an especial favourite 
 with its master. For her amusement the 
 cosmorama was lighted of an evening, and 
 she delighted the heart of the artist by the 
 genuine admiration she expressed for its 
 glories. 
 
 To my great delight, I could now look at 
 the beautiful Jezebel without shuddering ; 
 she, of whom it reminded nle, was nothing
 
 MY ELDEST BROTUER. 295 
 
 but a memory, painful as regarded the past, 
 but uiifeared for the future. 
 
 "Have you been to VVishart's farm, lately^'* 
 asked Mr. Hurst, as he placed the picture 
 for Maude's inspection. I replied in the 
 negative. 
 
 " Then I wish you would do so to-morruw; 
 he is very ill, and his poor daughter is nearly 
 worn out with fatigue and anxiety. Nothing 
 appears to give her so much pleasure as your 
 visits, and the old man is less impatient when 
 you are present tlian lio is with any otluT 
 visitant." 
 
 I ha<l not lately been a frequent visitor ii» 
 the cottage of the old farmer. I was fearful 
 of raising his captious temper by taking 
 Maude with me, and I now told Mr. Iluisn 
 he must take her for a long ride on the mor- 
 row, if 1 was not to be her companion in the 
 morning. 
 
 As I became better acquainteti with Mrs. 
 I.ocksley, I learned to value her chanict«'r 
 highly. Her one great grief appeared ever 
 present in her heart, but it- did hot, as it 
 would in some natures, have close<i it against
 
 296 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 the sorrows of others. She bore her heavy- 
 cross with humble submission to God's will; 
 her quiet and resigned demeanor, the kind- 
 ness and benevolence she was constantly ex- 
 ercising towards those around her who needed 
 assistance, in any shape she could alleviate, 
 the affectionate solicitude with which she 
 attended on her father, and the gentle sub- 
 mission with which she bore his occasional 
 savage outbursts of temper, whenever she 
 firmly, but respectfully, resisted his attempts 
 to overreach those with whom he had pecu- 
 niary dealings, caused me to regard her with 
 feelings of almost affectionate reverence, and 
 I used to think the fervent prayers of such a 
 righteous person for her daughter's reforma- 
 tion would avail much in the sight of God, 
 and that in His own good time they would be 
 answered. 
 
 Whenever I had lately visited the farm, I 
 had reached it by a circuitous route ; but on 
 the morning following Mr. Hurst's request 
 that I would go there, I boldly ventured by 
 the way where I had been- accosted by the 
 woman Rachel.
 
 MY El.DEST BROTHER. 2.07 
 
 1 found Mrs. Locksley lookin<^ more unwell 
 and depressed than usual, hut her face lipfhted 
 uj) as 1 approached, and she warmly thanked 
 me for my «j;oodness, as she styled it, in 
 coming to see her. 
 
 I told her, with trutli, that it gave me 
 pleasure to do so, and that I would become a 
 more frequent visitor. 1 then inquired after 
 her father. 
 
 *' lie is better to-day," she answered. 
 
 The voice was so sad that uttered the 
 words, that had I not been well acquainted 
 with the love and duty she always showed 
 towards her arbitrary parent, I should have 
 imagined his amendment a subject of regret 
 instead of satisfaction. 
 
 As if in answer to my thouirhts, she 
 said — 
 
 ** 1 am thankful he is well enough to leave 
 his room ; l»ut, dear young lady, <lo not con- 
 demn me for seeming sad when 1 ought 
 only to rejoice. My father will, I hope and 
 believe, be restored to health ; but, unfortu- 
 nately, his old feelings and prejudices seem 
 stronger rooted than ever; and I had so 
 
 () 5
 
 298 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 hoped the sufferings he had passed through, 
 would have softened his heart, and weakened 
 in it the love of money, which has lately 
 become such a fatal passion." 
 
 At this moment his voice was heard impa- 
 tiently calling his daughter. 
 
 ''Who beest thee maundering with, Hannah? 
 It's some sneaking body, I'll be bound, who 
 has come to beg of us ! Send 'em away, I 
 say — or I'll manage to come out and pay into 
 'em with my stick ! Come here to me di- 
 rectly, and let me hear who 't is." 
 
 Mrs. Locksley, with a frightened look, was 
 preparing to obey his summons, when I 
 whispered, " Let me go in alone to see 
 him." 
 
 I entered the kitchen, while the old man 
 was still storming with rage. He was seated 
 in his customary three-cornered walnut-wood 
 arm-chair, which was placed some little dis- 
 tance up the wide, old-fashioned chimney, 
 where a large wood fire was blazing. 
 
 He did not recognise me directly, but still 
 perceived it was not his daughter who ad- 
 vanced towards him.
 
 MY ELDEST BUUTIIER. 299 
 
 '* Ha ! " cried lio, as ho alteinpted to ii>(.' 
 tVoiii the chair, while he hraiulished his stick, 
 ** you have got the boldness to come in, have 
 you ? But he ort", or you'll rue it j)retty 
 quick, I tell 'ee ! " 
 
 " Do you not know me, Master Wishart ■ ' 
 said I, holding out my hand as I spoke. 
 
 " Is it only you ? " replied he, looking n 
 little ashamed, and sinking hack in his chair 
 " 1 thought Hannah was giving victuals a\\ay 
 to some of the beggars that come canting 
 round her when I am out of the way. I'll 
 soon clear the place of 'em though, the lazy 
 varment ! '* 
 
 '" I am glad to see you so much better, 
 farmer," said I, when he would allow me to 
 speak. 
 
 *' Oh, yes!" was the reply, in a frethil 
 voice, ** I 'spose I am better, but I want to be 
 well! What's the use of a fellow's sitting 
 here all day, when he wants to l)e about hi^ 
 farm ? I can 'tend to business a bit though, 
 now — so if you wants chickens, you must givr 
 me Hve shillings a couple for them, or you 
 won't get 'em from me ! Tell me how many
 
 300 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 you want, and then you can pay me before 
 Hannah comes in, and you needn't say any- 
 thing to her about the price." 
 
 Though I had not intended purchasing any 
 when I entered, I readily agreed to humour 
 him, and thus ensure his good humour during 
 the time I remained. 
 
 We had just settled our bargain, and the 
 money carefully deposited in the large canvass 
 bag he always carried in the pocket of his 
 coat, when his daughter entered with a basin 
 of broth for the invalid. 
 
 " This is how she serves me," said he, in 
 a piteous voice, as she placed it on the small 
 round table by his side. " Nothing but spoon 
 meat will she give me, and how is a poor old 
 fellow to get strong on such watery stuff as 
 this ? Do let me have a tankard of ale and 
 a rasher, there's a good wench ; and then thy 
 old father will soon be in the fields again." 
 
 " In a day or two, father. But you know 
 the doctor said you must be careful for a 
 time." 
 
 *' Oh ! that's the way she- rules me," said 
 he, with a grim smile. " Wait a bit, my
 
 MY ELDEST HROTIIKR. .SOI 
 
 lass, and I'll show you who's master here 
 once more ! 
 
 " Now, don't you go ! " cried he, as I rose 
 to depart ; ** stay whiles I drink this sloj)^I 
 wants to have some talk with 'ee." 
 
 During the time he was swallowing the 
 despised broth, I occupied myself by looking, 
 with admiring eyes, round the kitchen ; w^hich, 
 thanks to Mrs. Locksley's labour, was as 
 bright and pleasant an apartment as the eye 
 could wish to rest on. 
 
 It was a large, low room, with an immense 
 fireplace, in which there were usually two 
 long settles ; one of these had been removed, 
 in order that the old man's favourite chair 
 ]ni<:ht occupy its j)lace. The floor was of 
 bricks, laid as evenly as the smoothest boards ; 
 and, from the rubbing they constantly re- 
 ceived, were both bright and dry. Against 
 the wall, facing the wide, low casement 
 window, was j)laced a large dresser; the top 
 ^helves of which were garnished with great 
 round dishes of pewter, while lower down 
 were rows of plates of the same metal. 
 
 No silver could be brighter than these ap-
 
 302 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 peared, as the sun's rays danced and glittered 
 through the narrow panes of the lattice. 
 
 A huge, old-fashioned clock ticked loudly 
 in a large, black, polished case, in one corner 
 of the room. This clock was the pride of 
 the old fanner's heart; it had belonged to 
 several generations of Wisharts before it had 
 descended to himself. It was a wonderful 
 clock, the old man used to tell his admiring 
 friends. It not only marked correctly the 
 hour of the day, but likewise accurately re- 
 corded on its dial the days of the months and 
 weeks, with the age of the moon, and the 
 hours for its risins: and set tin o-. 
 
 Over the high, quaintly-carved chimney- 
 piece, was a long, narrow, looking-glass, in a 
 black frame — tilted very forward from the 
 Avail ; whilst in the top of the frame were stuck 
 several tall feathers from the tail of the pea- 
 cock, which waved solemnly to and fro when- 
 ever a sudden draught of air entered the room. 
 
 In the corner opposite the clock, was an 
 equally cherished article of bygone days. It 
 was a large three-cornered beaufet, with glass 
 doors, through which the eyes of a connoisseur
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 303 
 
 would have gazed delighted on the rare ohl 
 china bowls and plates, mixed with a variety 
 of other articles equally valuable to a col- 
 lector of such curiosities. There were little 
 cups, without handles, placed in saucers 
 er|ually tiny ; and of which the china was 
 so exquisitely transparent, that I could see 
 through them as they stood in all their glory 
 in front of the larger articles. 
 
 Then there were tea-pots to match these 
 fairy cups, some of which were furnished with 
 silver spouts ; but whether they were im- 
 ported in that state from the Celestial Em- 
 pire, or whether they had replaced others of 
 more fragile material, I was unable to learn 
 from their present possessor, who remembered 
 them in his grandfatlier's time having the same 
 metallic noses. 
 
 Another corner of the room was occupied by 
 a similar cupboard to that which contained the 
 china, and its contents were still more hi-'hlv 
 prized by the old man. It was filled witli a beau- 
 tiful collection of the British birds' eggs, formed 
 by himself when a youth, and would have 
 driven many an admirer of such ornithological
 
 304: MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 curiosities mad with envj. They were arranged 
 on shelves, each specimen reposing on a slip 
 of paper, on which its name was written in a 
 beautifully clear hand. From the tiny egg 
 of the tomtit, up to that of the royal eagle, 
 not one was missing in the link. 
 
 " Ah ! " would the owner of these treasures 
 say, when they called forth the admiration of 
 the spectator, " I never took so much trouble 
 about anything in my life, as I did to get 
 them eggs. I used to tease every body that 
 came anigh the place to help me in finding 
 those I could not get in these parts ; and as 
 I used to go with father to the large cattle 
 fairs all over the country, I had a better 
 chance than most lads of finding what I 
 wanted. 
 
 " I thought when I married, and got that 
 thing to put 'em in, and paid old Jarvis, 
 the clerk, to write all the names for 'em, how 
 proud I should be to show 'em a boy of my 
 own, and tell him of the fun I had in getting 
 some of 'em, and the trouble t'others cost me, 
 and how I nearly broke my neck in getting a 
 raven's nest, when the large branch of the
 
 MY FXDEST BROTHER. 305 
 
 tree broke, and 1 foil, eggs tind all, to the 
 ground — every one of 'em smashed, l)Ut the 
 one there ! 
 
 ** But there, I never had a son or a grand- 
 son either ; and whon T am dead and gone, I 
 dare say they will he ihrown away as ruhhish." 
 
 And the old man would sigh heavily at this 
 sad thought, and cast a look of troubled 
 affection towards the cherished memorial of 
 his youthful days. 
 
 Besides all the treasures I have mentione<l, 
 the ample room contained many more house- 
 hold gods. There was a large high chest of 
 drawers, made of walnut-wood, with long 
 brass handles, and on tlie top of this were 
 shelves enclosed by panelled doors. This 
 antique piece of furniture stood by the side 
 of the window, and was so highly polishe<l by 
 what old-fashioned housewives call ** elbow- 
 grease," that it reflected, like a looking-glass, 
 all that passed before it. 
 
 On these shelves was deposite<l the large 
 oM family Bible, with brass fastenings, in 
 which the births, marriages, and <leaths of 
 many generations of Wisharts were duly
 
 806 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 recorded. But the Bible was not the only 
 volume carefully preserved in this old-fashioned 
 bookcase. There was the *' Pilgrim's Pro- 
 gress," illustrated by the most horrible pic- 
 tures of the dangers which attended the 
 journey of the brave Christian ; and the leaves 
 of which were nearly as brown with age, as 
 was the leather in which they were bound. 
 
 The original collector of farmer Wishart's 
 library must have possessed rather a diver- 
 sified taste for literature ; for, in addition to 
 '' Foxe's Book of Martyrs," " Robinson 
 Crusoe," " The History of the Great Plague," 
 ''The Works of Bishop Burnett," and "Com- 
 modore Anson's Voyage Round the World," 
 there was a well-thumbed copy of a work, in 
 several large volumes, filled with an account 
 of the wars of the Duke of Marlborough and 
 Prince Eugene. 
 
 The very walls of that well-plenished kitchen 
 were adorned with wealth in the shape of 
 foxes' brushes, stuffed badgers, a tremendous^ 
 pair of polished horns, which had once be- 
 longed to an ox, for which- the farmer had 
 obtained a prize at some county agriculture
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. SOT 
 
 exhibition ; while sevcnil ohi-fashioned guns, 
 with single barrels an<l (lint locks, but kept 
 bright with incessant care, glittered against 
 the oaken panels. These were treasures their 
 owner would not have exchanged for the best 
 double-barrelled and percussion guns that 
 ever left the manufactories of Egg or Joe 
 Manton. 
 
 While I was taking this mental inventory 
 of the farmer's kitchen, I was startled by his 
 pushing from him, with violence, the table on 
 which his daughter had placed his basin of 
 broth. 
 
 " You may well look ! " cried he, as I 
 hastily withdrew my eyes from the polished 
 doors of the walnut-wood press opj)osite which 
 I was seated. ** You won't find many small 
 farmers with better things about them than 
 George Wishart. Ain't it enough ! " he con- 
 tinued vehemently, " to make a man fight a 
 hard battle with death ? when, for what he 
 knows, he'll harilly be lai<l in his grave, before 
 the very bed he dies on w ill be canted out of 
 his house ! Why don't Hannah let her girl 
 come home — for all that's come and gone —
 
 308 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 there's many a man would make her a good 
 husband for the sake of old Wishart's 
 savings? " 
 
 '* Has Mrs. Locksley heard from her 
 daughter? Does she wish to return home?" 
 inquired I, eagerly. 
 
 " Not likely she should, poor lass ! The 
 last time she was here her mother did nought 
 but cry and whine over her. 'T ain't likely, a 
 girl of spirit — and Hannah always had plenty 
 of that — would stand being preached to all 
 day ! " 
 
 At this moment, Mrs. Locksley entered the 
 room, and, anxious she should not hear her 
 father speak of her unfortunate daughter, I 
 prepared to depart ; but he had worked him- 
 self into a rage, and could not be prevented 
 from hurling some of it at the poor woman. 
 
 " I have been telling the young madam 
 what an unnatural mother you have been all 
 your life ! When your daughter came home, 
 you drove her away again by your doing all 
 you could to make her miserable. You are 
 fond enough of reading the Bible to me ; 
 and the other day, when I was too ill to argy
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 309 
 
 with 'ee, you vend the chjipter about the pro- 
 di<T:al son. I wondereil, at the time, you 
 weren*t ashamed to hear the words as they 
 came out of your mouth. Was that the way 
 you wolcomotl Hannah home ? " 
 
 " The prodigal, in the parable, returncil 
 repentant, father; Hannah came to us while 
 still livinir in her sin ! But go, young lady — 
 pray leave us ! These are no words for your 
 ears. Father will be sorry he has spoken 
 them by and by." 
 
 I left the farm more than ever grieved for 
 the unhappy mother ; but not before the old 
 man had made me promise to visit him again 
 quickly.
 
 310 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The letter I received from my mother, the 
 day following her arrival at Liverpool, con- 
 tained nothing but satisfactory intelligence ; 
 foremost amongst which, was the announce- 
 ment of her own probable return on the day 
 following my receipt of her letter. 
 
 She had seen Mr. Heath, although she had 
 had considerable trouble in obtaining an in- 
 terview with him ; and did not seem very 
 favourably impressed with his appearance and 
 manner, when she succeeded in doing so. 
 
 "He is not the kind of person I expected 
 to see, Nelly, and think most probably he left 
 this country in a very different position to the 
 one he now occupies; but he spoke very 
 highly of your brother, and of the estimation
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 311 
 
 ill whicli he was lield by h\^ employers. It is 
 certain be must be a most trustworthy person, 
 or he wouM not have been sent to Knglaiul 
 for the purpose of investing a large surn of 
 money in the purchase of Birmingham and 
 Manchester manufactures. It was owing to 
 his being engaged in seeing them safely shij>ped 
 that I had to wait some time before I could 
 see him. 
 
 " Think, dear, with what delight I lieard 
 him speak of the likelihood of Henry's being 
 in England next Spring, to transact business 
 of a similar character in lieu of himself." 
 
 I was not disappointed respecting ray mo- 
 ther's return at the time she had fixed. She 
 looked pale and languid, but declared she 
 felt perfectly well ; and, in answer to my 
 anxious inquiri*'- ^ 'i-l ^b»' only n'<jnii.^d n>^t 
 to recruit her. 
 
 " Joy and sorrow are equally enemies to 
 sleep, my child. I have been too happy since 
 I received Henry's letter to discern how mucli 
 I stood in need of it. Now that I have dis- 
 charged my duty, I feed that I have earned 
 repose. I should not have felt I had acted
 
 312 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 rightly, had I not seen the agent he had com- 
 missioned to receive the money." 
 
 " But you did not appear to like him much, 
 mamma ! " 
 
 '*! did not, dear; and sincerely hope he 
 has not much intercourse with your brother ; 
 although, I own, he appeared intimately ac- 
 quainted with him. I suppose, as the junior 
 partner, Henry has to transact business with 
 those employed confidentially by the firm." 
 
 " But what business is it he is engaged 
 in ? " I inquired. " He did not mention it 
 in his letter, or the names of the gentlemen 
 who conduct it." 
 
 " Unfortunately, Nelly," said my mother, 
 with a look of vexation, " I neglected to ask 
 such very necessary questions. I fully in- 
 tended doing so, but Mr. Heath was in such 
 haste to return to the docks, and the short 
 time we were together was so wholly occupied 
 by my inquiries respecting Henry's health 
 and welfare, that I never even thought of 
 obtaining his correct address ; and after my 
 letter was sealed, I remembered so many 
 things I wished to say, that I intended writing
 
 MY ELDEST HROTHER. 313 
 
 to liiin again iiiiinediaicly. Now i must wait 
 for his next letter before I can do so.** 
 
 My mother was unable to leave h<'r room 
 for several dajs after her return home. The 
 excitement which had given her the power of 
 undergoing such fatigue was gone, and >he 
 suffered violently from the reaction. Rest 
 and (juietness were the only remedies for her 
 recovery, and, assured of this, I passed the 
 time hap|)ily with Maud»' — the only <lra\v- 
 back to my enjoyment being her approaching 
 departure. 
 
 ** I don't know what 1 shall do without 
 you, Mauile,*' said I, one afternoon, when we 
 were returning from a long nimble, '* I shall 
 never care to walk when you are gont*. ' 
 
 " You will get used to it in time,'* answered 
 she, carelessly. ** I ought to have been home 
 a week ago, and then Cuthbc^rt would have 
 come for me; and although my mother doi»8 
 not say so in her letters, I am sure she wishes 
 me to return. I did not like to leave you 
 while Mrs. Travers was so unwell, but now 
 she is recovered sufficiently to come down 
 stairs, I shall take my depart un* at once. I 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 314 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 have written home to say I shall be there the 
 day after to-morrow." 
 
 I felt greatly hurt at the indifferent manner 
 in which Maude spoke of our approaching 
 separation. I had learned to regard her with 
 so much affection — to find such pleasure in 
 her society — that I was both pained and in- 
 dignant at her evident wish to quit me. 
 Endeavouring, as much as possible, to conceal 
 the annoyance I really felt, I answered coldly, 
 *' That I was sorry her good-nature had in- 
 duced her to remain longer at Brookfields 
 than suited her convenience." 
 
 " Don't say anything about that," was the 
 reply to my rather rude remark. " I have been 
 very happy during the time I have been here, 
 and shall hope to visit you again ; but I 
 cannot say I am sorry at the prospect of 
 returning home. I assure you, Nelly, you 
 will not miss me as much as you imagine." 
 
 "You judge me by your own feelings, 
 Maude." 
 
 " Of course I do. You have known me long 
 enough, Nelly, to know I ' do not possess a 
 grain of what is called * sentiment.' ' I should
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 315 
 
 be a fool to weep :u wikh I am u:lad of.' Now 
 (loift look so pfrieved at what you think my 
 unkiiidiiess. You will forgive me, I hope, 
 before we really do shake hands an<l j)art. 
 Hnt, look !" she continued, as she approached 
 a window where my mother was seated, 
 " there is Mrs. Travers actually waiting 
 «linner for us I Won't Martha scold us for 
 being so late ! ' 
 
 Maude was very lively and talkative during 
 the meal, and several times endeavoured to 
 draw me into the conversation, but I some- 
 what sullenly repulsed her attempts to do so, 
 and secretly accused her of hypocrisy when 
 she addressed me atfectionately. 
 
 My mother, on the contrary, appeared 
 amused and interested by her young visitor's 
 cheerfulness ; and, finding my silence seemed 
 unnoticed or uncared for by either, I (piitted 
 them, and, in the solitude of my own room, 
 indulged, without restraint, in the grief I had 
 with difliculty suppressed the whole day, at 
 the evident want of affection which Maude's 
 conduct manifeste«l for me. 
 
 After a time, ^orrciw L'avr plricr l(» .-m-'iT,
 
 316 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 and I hastily comraenced collecting together 
 many little memorials of our friendship I had 
 received from her. While thus employed, I 
 was startled by her sudden appearance. 
 
 "What are you moping up here for?" 
 cried she gaily, as she entered. *' Mamma 
 and I have been so busy settling our plans, 
 that we did not miss you till this minute, and 
 now I am come to tell you what they are." 
 
 I answered, with what I considered quiet 
 dignity, " I do not care to know them ; but 
 I am glad you are here, for it gives me the 
 opportunity of returning to you these things. 
 I cannot consent to retain them, since it is 
 evident you no longer regard me with affection. 
 In the words of Ophelia, I say : 
 
 ' Rich gifts wax poor, when givers prove unkind ! ' " 
 
 To my inexpressible mortification, I could 
 perceive Maude had some difliculty to prevent 
 herself from laughing. She, however, con- 
 trolled the inclination, and, looking at the 
 articles spread on the table, said, with mock 
 gravity —
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 317 
 
 ** Yuu are please* i to be satirical, Nelly ; 
 the * rich ^nfts,' as you term them, are cer- 
 tainly too poor to be worth your preserving. 
 But you might have waited till I had left yon, 
 and then made a bonfire of them if you liked. 
 I have seen all day that you have been long- 
 ing to (juarrel with me, but I did not choose 
 to indulge such an unamiable propensity, and 
 am come for the purpose of setting you an 
 example of returning good for evil, by assisting 
 you to get ready for your journey.'* 
 
 My look of astonishment must, I suj)pos(\ 
 have been very ridiculous ; for Maude, no 
 longer able to restrain herself, laughed merrily 
 for some moments, and then throwing her 
 arms round my neck, and kissing me atlec- 
 tionately, said — 
 
 ** Oh, Nelly, Nelly ! you must have very 
 unkind thoughts towards your friends, or yon 
 would not imagine they cared so little for 
 yourself. You have favoured me with a 
 quotation, I will give you one much more to 
 the purpose : 
 
 ' By the pattern of my own thought«, 
 I cut out the purity of hi».*
 
 318 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 But I have just achieved such a triumph over 
 your mother's prejudices that I can afford to 
 be merciful to your's. She has consented to 
 accept the pressing invitation which my 
 mother enclosed in the letter I received this 
 morning ; and it was because I determined 
 she should do so, that I did not weep and 
 lament over our approaching separation. Now 
 will you have the goodness to put these * rich 
 gifts ' into your drawers again, and remember, 
 for the future, there are people in the world 
 as capable of feeling affection as yourself." 
 
 " Oh, Maude ! " said I, incredulously, 
 when her homily concluded, she stood waiting 
 for my reply. " It is not possible my mother 
 will go to Baymouth ; when I urged her to 
 do so, she most positively refused." 
 
 "You need not be jealous of my superior 
 influence, Nelly; you went the wrong way to 
 work, and entreated her to leave home for 
 her own sake. I urged her to do so for 
 your's." 
 
 " Then you did very wrong," said I, an- 
 grily. " I will not suffer her to think I am 
 selfish enough to take such a mean advantage
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 3 1 9 
 
 of her love for me. Mow could you be so 
 cruel towards us both ? " 
 
 *' Listen to me ! " said my friend, as I was 
 about to hasten to my mother. " If your 
 mother were ill, would you not prevail on her 
 to adopt the remedies you considered ne- 
 cessary for her recovery ? Would you not 
 implore her to do so for your sake ? And 
 now that she has consented to take the medi- 
 cine, wliicli will preserve her in health, you 
 turn indignantly round on the physician who 
 has persuaded her to swallow it. Forgive 
 me, Nelly, if 1 have appeared unkind, but 
 you will be the better for the lesson I ho|)e, 
 and not distrust your friends wdienever they 
 may act in a way you do not, for the time, 
 comprehend. I could not feign sorrow at 
 parting from you when I believed it wouhl 
 only be for a day or two; and I did not wish 
 you to know of my intention of appealing to 
 your mother's alFcction for you, for the pur- 
 pose of benefitting herself. Now go to her, 
 if you please — you will find 1 have done no 
 harm by my interference."
 
 320 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 " Not till I have obtained your forgiveness," 
 said I, humbly. 
 
 " You need not wait long for that, dear. 
 There, that will do ! Now dry your eyes like 
 a good child, or mamma will think I have 
 been telling stories, and that you don't wish 
 to visit Bay mouth." 
 
 Despite the reasoning of Maude, I could 
 not but regret my mother's consent to leave 
 home was obtained by the representation that 
 to do so would prove beneficial to myself, and 
 felt as guilty when I met her as if I was in 
 reality the selfish being I dreaded she would 
 consider me. Her first words, however, con- 
 vinced me that my friend had done her 
 " spiriting gently." 
 
 " My dear Nelly, Maude has given me a 
 note from her mother, and the iuvitation it 
 contains is such a very kind and pressing one, 
 that if you do not object we will accept it, 
 and follow her to Baymouth as soon as we 
 can manage to leave home. You see," added 
 she, cheerfully, " that my visit to Liverpool 
 is already producing good results ; for it has
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 321 
 
 given me the confidence requisite to mix with 
 strangers once more." 
 
 " But Mrs. Headley is no stranger, mamma. 
 You have tohl me you were fast friends once 
 on a time." 
 
 ''True, dear; but that once on a time is a 
 long while ago, and I fear it will prove as 
 difficult to resuscitate an old friendship as to 
 form a new one. More painful, I feel, it will 
 prove to both." 
 
 " Then why endeavour to do so, mamma ? 
 Why not decline this invitation as you did 
 the former one ? " 
 
 '' Have you never heard that second 
 thoughts are best, Nelly? Besides, it was 
 more difficult to resist Maude's arguments 
 than your own ; and she did not cease to 
 press them, till I had written a few lines to 
 her mother, conveying my acceptance of her 
 proffered kindness. So now there is nothing 
 to be done but prepare to follow her as 
 quickly as we can." 
 
 I was not wise enough, or old enough, to 
 regard my first visit from home as a common- 
 place event. I could think of nothing after
 
 322 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 Maude's departure, but of the pleasure I 
 should feel in rejoining her at Bayraouth. 
 To be sure, I had an unpleasant consiousness 
 that I had been the scapegoat which had 
 induced my mother to consent to enter the 
 wilderness of the world she had quitted for 
 many years. But Mrs. Hurst laughed at my 
 scruples on such a point. 
 
 " You will come back wiser and better than 
 you leave it, dear," said my kind friend. " A 
 month's absence, even from the happiest home, 
 is of service to the mind. You will receive 
 new ideas every mile you travel ; the mental 
 vision delights in ' fresh fields and pastures 
 new ' as much as the physical. Your mother 
 furnishes a striking illustration of this truism. 
 Therefore, Nelly, do not expect me to condole 
 with you on what I am sure will prove of 
 great service to you." 
 
 I had to take leave of many of my village 
 friends after I quitted the Vicarage ; amongst 
 others, of Mrs. Locksley. 
 
 When I reached the farm, I found her, as 
 usual, actively employed ; but with a troubled,
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 323 
 
 saddened look, very different to her usual one 
 of patient resignation. 
 
 In answer to my inquiry for her father, 
 she said, with a voice quivering with emo- 
 tion — 
 
 " I wish I could say he was better ; but 
 day after day goes by, and he is still unable 
 to leave his chair by the fire, and each day 
 he becomes more impatient of the confine- 
 ment and harsher to those who have occasion 
 to seek him on matters of business, he will 
 not allow me to transact for him. He thinks 
 that I shall sell the old place and furniture 
 when he is dead, and that thought troubles 
 him night and day. He has threatened to 
 make a will, leaving everything from me ; 
 and accuses me of driving from the place 
 one for whose welfare I would willingly lay 
 down my own life. But he will be glad to 
 see you," said the poor woman, wiping the 
 tears from her face, " if you will go in to 
 him." 
 
 I found the farmer looking much as he had 
 done a few days previously. To ray surprise, 
 he was occupied in writing on the small table
 
 324 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 which usually was placed by his side in the 
 ample chimney. But he laid down the pen 
 as I entered, and eagerly welcomed me. Then 
 turning to his daughter, he said — 
 
 *' I wish, Hannah, you would go down to 
 Standen's, and get me a new pen. Young 
 madam will stay with me while you are gone, 
 won't 'ee ? " 
 
 The last word was addressed to me, and I 
 willingly consented to remain with him till 
 his daughter returned from the village. 
 
 The farmer watched her from the window 
 as long as she remained in view, and, then 
 turning to me with a look of relief, said — 
 
 ** Now she's gone, I can say what I want 
 to you. Will you write on this paper for me 
 what I have been trying to do all the 
 morning ? For I be but a poor hand with the 
 pen — schollards weren't in fashion when I 
 was a youngster ! " 
 
 '' Certainly," I answered ; " but your 
 daughter would have helped you quite as well 
 as I can." 
 
 *' Yes ; she, maybe, would have done it for 
 me, but what would have been the good of
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 325 
 
 it; she wouldn't have put it in post when 
 'twas done. Now, look, young madam, I 
 wants you to finish this as I tells ye," and he 
 held towards me the paper on which he had 
 written a few words. " Read it out, will 'ee ?" 
 said he, impatiently, and I did as he required. 
 
 *^ ' Twenty pounds reward. — This is to give 
 notis, that I, George Wishart, of Sandhill 
 Farm, will give twenty pounds ' " 
 
 '* That's all I can manage," said the old 
 man, when I had read the lines. ** Now I 
 want you to finish it for me, and send it to 
 the people in Lunnon, who will put it in the 
 papers. Sit down, will 'ee, and write what 
 ril tell 'ee. Let's see, what's the last words ? 
 * I, George Wishart, will give twenty pounds' 
 — yes, that's right. Now, then, go on as fast 
 as ye can — will give twenty pounds to any- 
 body who will find Hannah Locksley, and tell 
 her that her old grandfather's very bad, and 
 wants to see her before he dies. That's all," 
 said he, when I had written the words he 
 dictated ; ** now fold it up and seal it, and 
 direct it to the people in Lunnon. who will 
 put it in the papers. Stay, it will cost money,
 
 326 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 I s'pose," and taking the well-filled canvass 
 bag from his pocket he extended a sovereign 
 towards me. 
 
 " But, Mr. Wishart," said I, '* this adver- 
 tisement will not cost so much money as that. 
 Had you not better let your daughter take it 
 to the post-office, and get Mr. Standen to 
 manage it for her ?" 
 
 "No!" cried the old man, vehemently; 
 '' Hannah don't want the poor lass home. 
 She won't have it put in the papers if she 
 knows aught of it. Now do, there's a dear 
 young madam, put it in the post yourself; 
 just wrop the m.oney inside the letter, and 
 tell 'em to spend it all in finding her. I can't 
 die easy if I don't see the poor girl again ; I 
 beant unnatural to my own flesh and blood 
 if other folk be." 
 
 Very reluctantly I enclosed the sovereign 
 in the paper ; the old man then, with trem- 
 bling eagerness, watched me fold and seal it, 
 and direct it to the Times. 
 
 " Now put it in thy po.cket, and promise 
 it shall go into post as you go home." 
 
 "But, Mr. Wishart," said I, in great per-
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 827 
 
 plexity, " surely you will let me tell your 
 (lauohter ? it is not rii>lit to take such a step 
 without her knowletl<i^e." 
 
 " Give me the letter," snapped he, savagely, 
 '* I see I can't trust 'ee. I'll find a way to 
 send it. Oh ! Lord — Lord ! to think I should 
 live to be such a helpless creter, as can't walk 
 a quarter of a mile, if t'were to save my own 
 life !" then, in a coaxing voice, he added, " I 
 didn't think ye had been so hard-hearted to 
 an old man ; put it in thy pocket — here's 
 Hannah coming, don't let her see it." 
 
 Frightened by the agitation he displayed, 
 I hurriedly did as he implored me, and had 
 just concealed the letter when his daughter 
 entered with the pens he had sent her for. 
 
 Master Wishart's eyes twinkled with ma- 
 licious pleasure as she placed them on the 
 table, and he said, ** Thank'ee lass — thank'ee, 
 but I don't want 'em now; young madam has 
 wrote what T wanted with the old one." 
 
 Mrs. Locksloy looked at me with some 
 surprise, as I stood confused, and uncertain 
 how to act. Ought I to send the letter with- 
 out her sanction ? The farmer keeuly scanned
 
 328 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 
 
 my face while I stood irresolute, then address- 
 ing his daughter, he said, 
 
 " You have been gone a long time, Hannah, 
 I s'pose you have been gossiping with Mother 
 Standen. The young madam wants to be off. 
 Say good-bye to her here, I can't spare 'ee to 
 go to the door with her. Come and help me 
 up, and I'll try and get as far as the egg 
 cupboard — it's many a day since I've handled 
 'em." 
 
 Thus summarily dismissed, I had no re- 
 source but to quit the house with the letter 
 and money in my possession. 
 
 During my walk home, I revolved in my 
 mind all the circumstances connected with 
 my late visit. The old man was capable of 
 acting on his own judgment, and it was no 
 unreasonable desire to wish for his grand- 
 child's presence ; and yet I felt an insuper- 
 able aversion to being the means through 
 which she might return to Brookfields. Her 
 poor mother, it was evident, did not wish her 
 to do so, and, knowing this, would it be right 
 to humour her father at her expense? 
 
 In this state of unqertaintv I reached the
 
 MY ELDEST BROTHER. 329 
 
 turning Avhicli led to the Vicarage, and re- 
 solved to take my doubts and perplexities to 
 my friends there. 
 
 No one was at home but the elder Mrs. 
 Hurst when I arrived there, but she con- 
 sented to take charge of the letter, and tell 
 her son all that related to it." 
 
 ** You may safely trust to him to act for 
 the best, my dear," said the venerable lady. 
 *' If he does not think it right to forward it 
 without Mrs. Locksley's knowledge, he will 
 return it to the farmer, and endeavour to per- 
 suade him to consult with his daughter re- 
 specting the prudence of inserting such an 
 advertisement. Philip shall write to you at 
 Baymouth, and tell you the results of his 
 interference." 
 
 END OF VOL. I,
 
 F. Shoberl, Printer, 37, Dean Street, Soho, W.