S -^_ - - Shis Boop^ Belongs ©o - HEARD X, SONS' jSubscription Hibrarg. ALL PRINCIPAL MAGAZINES AS ISSUED. SINGLE VOLUMES LENT AT Id. PER WEEK. Subscribers of £1 Is. are entitled to Two or more Sets of Books at a Time. Subscribers of 10s. 6d. are entitled to One Set at a Time. /rNY BOOK |v1AY BE pURGHASED AT F^EDUGEE) fRIOE. CLUBS 'supplied. 2d. in the Shilling allowed off all New Books for Cash. v m wm m<0 mm »» 9m ww 'm\ ^mm-^^MmM^^mm^: A TANGLED CHAIN. A TANGLED CHAIN J. E. PANTON, AUTHOR OF liESS THAN KIN,' ' A CUBATE'S WIFE,' &C. IN TWO VOLUMES. Vol. I. LONDON : WARD AND DOWNEY, 12, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C. 1887. \All Bights Reserved. \ NovELLO, Ewer & Co., Printers, 69 & 70, Dean Street, Soho, London, W. ^ ^ V. I CONTENTS, - CHAPTER PAGE "v I. FROM NATURAL CAUSES - - - _ 7 y ^V. II. PLANS FOR THE FUTURE - - - - 42 ^-, " C III. AN EDGELESS TOOL 75 IV. GOOD-BYE TO BRIDGEPORTH - - - - llB V V. LADY STANDEN AT HOME - - - - 147 . VI. INTRODUCED TO SOCIETY - - - - 181 • >^ j VII. IN THE CONSERVATORY 213 S "0 ^ A TANGLED CHAIN. CHAPTEK I. *FROM NATURAL CAUSES.' ' I don't know who is to tell Missie ! ' said the old butler, as he stood looking down at the bed, where lay all that remained of his late master. ' It will go for to kill the child, never did daughter love father better; and how we are to tell her ! Lord knows, I don't ! ' ' There ain't no one to send for neither,' replied his wife, who did duty as house- keeper, and who had been called into the room by Andrew when he had made 8 A Tangled Chain, the terrible discovery. * In most families there's an aunt, or a sister, or even the parson's wife ; but all these twenty years you and I have lived here, not one soul, save the doctor and lawyer, has ever entered the house. I nursed Missie from the day she were two years old, and they came into possession of the property; but I know no more of her than I do of Jane's girl, and she I've never seen. But something must be done — the question is what ? ' ' There's the doctor to fetch, of course, just to see why he's gone,' replied Andrew, * though he knows as you and I know this might come at any moment. I always wanted Missie told, but Dr. Pearson made sure she could never keep it from her father, and if he had known it would have killed him outright. I can hardly believe that. Any- how, he should have been prepared, and we should have known from him who to send ' From Natural Causes.'' 9 for and what to say. As it is, I'm fairly non- plussed/ and the old man knitted his brows and looked anxiously at his wife. * I suppose he is dead ? ' she asked, tenta- tively. * Dead as forty door nails/ replied her husband, turning back the curtain a little and allowing the light to shine on the calm^ white face on the pillow. ' I never had no doubts on that matter, when I came into his room and couldn't rouse him. I've expected this day any time these ten years, but 'tis a shock, death is, come when it may ; and I shall never get over this, I know.' ' Oh, yes you will,' said his wife, easily ; ' but there's worse to come. Missie is in the garden ; breakfast is due in five minutes ; you go down, Andrew, and say her Pa is not well ; you can send off Jake for Dr. Pearson to come at once, and he shall tell her. Don't let her up here ; you can say 10 A Tangled Chain, her Pa don't wish her until the doctor has been, anyway/ 'You ain't afraid, Maria?' asked the butler, as he moved to the door on the tips of his toes, as if dreading to arouse the sleeper on the bed. * Afraid of him ? ' said the housekeeper, contemptuously, ' not I ; you go and fetch the doctor and prepare Missie, though it's my opinion she won't care one bit — she is a mass of selfishness, she is." And so saying, and taking small notice of her husband's protest against her last remark, she bundled him out of the room, locked the door against all possible intruders, and stood looking down once more at all that was left of her old master. The blind over the window had been drawn up and the room seemed full of the Sep- tember sunshine that flooded the garden and lighted up the distant woods, where autumn's < From Natural Causes.' 11 hand had already begun to paint the trees scarlet and russet and gold. The ah* was heavy with the scent of the magnolia that covered the front of the house, where bees were humming loudly as they gathered their last stores of honey ; and far away could be heard the fitful song of a girl as she wandered about in the garden, where a red waistcoated robin was singing lustily too, as if anxious to show he could hold his own with the human songstress ; and, indeed, notwithstanding that death had taken possession of the house, the whole atmosphere was redolent of life, and it was difficult, verily, to believe that the master of all that fair property was no more, and could never again lean from his window answering his daughter's song, as usual, with his musical whistle. Something in the song caused the housekeeper to go to the case- ment and look down at the girl as she strayed hither and thither among the flower- 12 A Tangled Chain. beds, gathering the bouquets that were never absent from the breakfast table; and as she Hstened to the Hght hearted carol, and watched the slender fingers possess them- selves carelessly of all the owner desu-ed, she felt impelled to call out the news to her harshly, dispelling at one blow the care- lessness and joyousness that always made her declare that, be what she might, Missie most certainly was born without a soul. But shaking off this impulse, Mrs. Luker came back to the bed-side and began mechanically to straighten the sheets and to put tidy the pillows that lay beneath the head of the dead man. It was a fine face, and as the housekeeper finished all she could do, an unbidden tear fell from her eyes and lay on the cold, ivory- coloured cheek. Sir Marmaduke Standen had been a very handsome man ; at sixty- five he was comparatively a young man, and * From Natural Causes.' 13 as he lay in the repose of death he appeared so strong, and so cahnly asleep that it was well-nigh incredible that he would never awake again ; and although the bitter chill of the cheek, as Mrs. Luker wiped away the tear, might have assured her of the fact that it was indeed death that she saw before her, she could not resist turning back the bed- clothes once more to feel if the heart yet beat or if, indeed, it were silent for ever. As she did so, leaning over the bed in such a manner as not to alter the position of the body, she discovered a tiny wine-glass on the bed-clothes under the right hand. It was out of Sir Marmaduke's medicine chest, and was used by him to contain the draught he invariably took at night, did the pain at his heart trouble him ; and as Mrs. Luker took it up to place it on the table, a curious scent caused her to raise it to her nose, from which she took it away almost 14 A Tangled Chain. as quickly as she placed it there ; and once more bending down over her late master, she leaned low enough to ascertain that the same subtle odour appeared to cling to his lips, that were half opened, as if he were about to speak. Mrs. Luker sank down into a chair, and, for a moment, could not even think what this might mean ; and then, as ideas crowded through her brain, she rose again and began eagerly searching the room, to see if she could discover any clue to what was, un- doubtedly, an overwhelming mystery. It was impossible that Sir Marmaduke could have poisoned himself; he was far too fond of life, of Missie, of his property, to say nothing of his dinners, to go recklessly out of a world where such things were certainties, into another where nothing, even Missie, was anything but problematical ; and it was almost as impossible to believe he had been * From Natural Causes,' 15 murdered; there was no one who would do it, unless robbery were added to the crime too, and this Mrs. Luker knew was not the case, for all the best plate was at the bank, and the rest Luker had carried up to bed with him, as usual, the night before, and had restored it to its place in the pantry before making the discovery of Sir Marmaduke's death. And as Mrs. Luker wandered about, looking under the bed, and into drawers, and, in fact, everywhere where there was the very smallest chance of finding anything, she felt inclined to rush down stairs and, regardless of her young mistress, to shriek out wildly that help was required at once, for Sir Marmaduke Standen lay upstairs in his bed foully murdered. Presently wheels on the gravel below heralded the fact of Dr. Pearson's arrival. Mrs. Luker heard Miss Standen question him closely about her father and heard his 16 A Tangled Chain. cautious answers, and then came his feet on the stairs, and a pause outside the door. Mrs. Luker was about to turn the key to admit the doctor when she heard him say, * I cannot permit you to enter. Miss Standen ; indeed I can't, pray don't ask it/ * He is my father, and my place is at his side,' repHed Miss Standen in a strangely agitated voice. ^Not until I have seen him,' replied Dr. Pearson calmly ; ' recollect. Miss Standen, every moment you keep me here you are preventing me from helping him; you can stay outside and I will call you in the moment I can safely do so ; but these sudden attacks are not fit for girls to witness, and your presence would incommode us both. Now, will you stand aside and wait ? ' * I suppose I must, but oh ! doctor, re- member there are only us two,' said Liza Standen, her voice breaking as if she were ' From Natural Causes,' 17 in tears ; ' he is all I have ' — and she was going on to say more, when Mrs. Luker opened the door cautiously, and Dr. Pearson slipped inside and the key was turned agam, before she could realize what was done, when she sank down on her knees close to the keyhole, trying her best to hear anything that might be passing in the room, where Dr. Pearson had told her her father was lying fighting a desperate fight for life ; but the low-toned colloquy in the room did not reach her, and she could not hear nor see anything of what was occurring. * The end has come then,' said the doctor below his breath, as he came up to the bedside and began a professional examination of Sir Marmaduke's body; 'well, it is just what I always expected. I can certify this, and there will be no fuss or inquest ; so unpleasant, you know, for the household.' ' The end has come indeed. Dr. Pearson, VOL. I. B 18 A Tangled Chain. but not quite as we expected,' replied Mrs. Luker cautiously ; ' there has been foul play somewhere — look here ! ' and she handed him the small glass and begged him to smell it. *I can smell nothing/ answered the doctor, turning very white ; * nothing at all. Stay, Mrs. Luker, have you found the bottle containing the rest of the draught; you know it always held four doses, and I sent the last one in only the day before yesterday/ * I never looked, but it is sure to be in the chest,' said the housekeeper, tossing her head. ' What's become of your nose this morning. Dr. Pearson; it's keen enough when you come sniffing about, declaring the drains are out of order and my dust-bin's foul ; and yet you can't tell oil of almonds w4ien you are given a thing literally stinking of it ; and there's the smell about his mouth too, as strong as strong : anyways, here's the rest of the * From Natural Causes.' 19 draught/ she added, as she opened the medicine chest and took out the hottle; 'you can smell that anyhow/ and she held the vial up to him, that the moment the cork was out gave forth a subtle odour as of prussic acid. The doctor put the cork in hastily and placed the bottle in his pocket. ' Listen to me, Mrs. Luker, for a few moments,' he said, ' then I think you will see the necessity of keeping this dark between you and me ; you don't want scandal to play havoc here and to ruin everyone, even Miss Standen. I have a clue : Su' Marmaduke was always telling me some day the pain at his heart would increase so much that he should be driven to kill himself; there was always a fraction of a drop of oil of almonds in his draught — this gave him the idea; the pain was too much for him, he has taken the law into his own hands and VOL. I. B *2 20 A Tangled Chain, has killed himself; anyhow, he could not have lived another month. Now don't you think you and I had better keep our own counsel about this ? Think of the talk ; the inquest ; why, they might even suspect you and Luker ! You come into a nice lot of money in the will, and life here is a trifle slow; you can get away now — your motives are evident.' ' Goodness gracious me, Dr. Pearson, have you gone raving mad,' exclaimed the house- keeper. ' Even if we do come into money under the will, and this, neither me nor Andrew knows of, mind you, who's to go suspecting of us ? we've lived in Bridge- porth these forty years : first in Sir George Standen's time and then in Sir Marmaduke's, and that puts us above suspicion. I don't hold with no hole-and-corner work, not I; let's have an inquest if we must, and have done of it. I shall go and tell Andrew at ' From Natural Causes,' 21 once,' and she turned as if to leave the room. * How about that poor child listening at the door,' said the doctor, putting his hand detainingly on her arm ; ' think what you will do for her if you allow such a thing to get abroad; you nursed her, you must care for her ; what can be her future if she goes out into the world as the daughter of a lunatic mother and of a father that com- mitted suicide because he was too cowardly to bear pain ? As it is, no one knows of the mother, and as I have attended Sir Mar- maduke for years for a most dangerous and aggravated case of heart disease, I, of course, know how he died.' ' He never committed suicide,' exclaimed the housekeeper stoutly. * Why he gave me instructions only last night about the cooking of the partridges for breakfast this morning, and wrote for a whole lot of claret 22 A Tangled Chain. just to please Andrew. Men who mean to kill themselves don't do that ; they give out hints, drop words we think of after, and such like ; and Sir Marmaduke ! why, his last words to me, his very last words were : ^' Maria, you old fool, if you don't stew those bhds before you put 'em in the pie you'll find yourself cut off with a shilling in my will.*' ' ' Then he had mentioned his will,' said the doctor, significantly. * Only jeering like that,' stuttered the house- keeper; 'never nothing serious, or what we could look to as a certainty ; ' no,' added she, recovering herself, ' he were murdered . Never had any one less wish to go out of hfe than Sir Marmaduke ; he enjoyed himself always just about, and he'd never have left Missie willingly, of that I'm sure.' * Where is the motive for a murderer,' urged the doctor. ' The plate is all right ; watch, ring, and money untouched ; whereas ' From Natural Causes.' 23 I know that pain was awful, and he was not a first-rate hand at bearing it ; in fact, he was about as cowardly a man as I ever met. You have no conception either, Mrs. Luker, what he had to endure, and he has often and often said to me : ' ' that life could never be worth having until he was cured " — it was when I told him he never could be cured that he talked of suicide. He was a regular old heathen, you know, and had no dread of bogey or fear of a higher power to keep him from taking the law into his own hands, and I know, as well as that I am standing here, that this is his doing.' * I see no reason why folks should not hear of it, even if it is so,' persisted the house- keeper ; ' and nothing on this earth shall make me believe it is anything but a foul crime. Pain or no pain. Sir Marmaduke would never have done such a deed; it is not the time of year he would have chosen 24 A Tangled Chain, either — September and October were his favourite months. Now if it had been December or January; but now — no, Dr. Pearson, justice must be done, and you must summon the coroner.' 'It is ridiculous, quite ridiculous,' urged Dr. Pearson. ' You will cause a most un- pleasant scandal, and harm all Miss Standen's future ; think, too, what she has to bear as it is. She never knew of her mother, now she must, as provision was made for her in the will, and she is too sharp not to insist on seeing that for herself; there is no con- cealing anything from her. I only wonder how Sir Marmaduke managed her as well as he contrived to do. What a life she has had to be sure. I wonder what she will do, now she is her own mistress ! She has never even driven as far as Bodmin, has she ? ' 'Not she; not since the day they came ' From Natural Causes.' 25 here, twenty years ago,' said Mrs. Lnker meditatively; 'and she knows no more of the outside world than a bahy; of com'se, she has talked to her teachers, and there is not a book or a newspaper she has not read ; but what's reading after all ? Half-an-hom^ in Eegent Street tells you more of what's what than a century of papers and magazines. She is brim full of curiosity naturally, and she'll be off like an arrow from a bow the moment her Pa's buried. Often I've heard her begging him to go up to town, and declaring she should go mad if he kept her down here year after year any more ; but he always put her off with some excuse or other — next season, or when the hay was cut, it might be. Once the boxes were packed, and Missie was wild with joy, and then came on a bad attack of pain, and, of course, they could not go then. No, Dr. Pearson, it's been an unnatural life for any girl ; and one can't 26 A Tangled Chain, blame her if she tries to make up for lost time. I only hope she will let me and Andrew stay on here and keep the house. Forty years in one place makes any spot one's home and part of oneself; and it would kill us both, I'm sure of that, had we to leave the Holt.' ' Now don't you see two excellent reasons for accepting my view of the cause of death ? ' asked the doctor eagerly. * You know what a coroner's inquest is here — a mere farce — albeit I allow it is a very unpleasant one. My evidence, after all, will be the only thing Peters will listen to. I shall settle the questions to be asked by him over a glass of port this evening, and you will be under the unpleasant suspicion of blackening your master's character and harming his daughter ; once mention this bottle, and, of course, the verdict must be suicide, unless I tell Peters you imagined the whole thing to get ^ From Natural Causes.' 27 up a sensation ; then do you think Miss Standen will allow you to stay on here ? beside which, you allow yourself the poor girl has had a dismal existence, and with the same breath proceed to make it doubly dismal for her in the future. The daughter of a live lunatic and a dead suicide will hardly be received into society with open arms. You leave matters as they are, Mrs. Luker ; anyhow, they are bad enough ; and if you take my advice you won't even tell Andrew all you think. You know he is not always to be trusted, more especially on market days at the "Black Bear," and this needs a still tongue.' ' If all's true that's said there, you've no call to throw out hints against him,' replied Mrs. Luker angrily. ' Andrew ain't perfect, nor quite as sober as one could wish ; but he can go to his bed when he is half-seas over. He ain't called up to attend poor sick folks *2S A Tangled Chain. like some people, who lets them lie and suffer, while he falls asleep on the sofa like a pig, because he hadn't got over the effects of his carouse. Andrew is not much to boast of, still he does his duty, and never takes too much as long as his work ain't done, and that's more than can be said for some folks,' and Mrs. Luker tossed her head significantly, and glanced spitefully at her antagonist. ' Well, well, we're wasting time ; remember there's that poor girl to be told,' said Dr. Pearson, laughing unsteadily ; ' and there's work to be done here, too. Wliat is your resolve, Mrs. Luker ? An inquest that will result in nothing satisfactory, and will cause Miss Standen the acutest misery now and hereafter, or silence and my certificate ? I haven't much more time to spare either,' he added, looking at the watch that still ticked steadily over the dead man's head, ' in half- ^ From Natural Causes,' 29 an -hour I am due at the surgery, so let me hear at once how you decide.' * Well, I suppose you had better have your own way,' grumbled Mrs. Luker, placmg a handkerchief over Su^ Marmaduke's face and drawing down the blind again ; ' though, mind you, I'm acting against my better judgment ; it's murder, not suicide, that sent Sh' Mar- maduke out of the world, and you mark what I say ; you and I will live to see my words come true. And who's to tell Missie, I wonder ? ' ' Oh, I'll do that,' said the doctor, putting the little wine-glass in his pocket unperceived by the housekeeper ; ' but is there no one you can send for to be with her — an old governess or girl-friend? By the way, who comes in for the title ? ' ' A miserable clerk in the city, and much good may it do him,' said Mrs. Luker. ' He and his mother had better come down, I sup- pose; he only gets the estate in Lancashu-e 30 A Tangled Chain. — one farm I think that is, and a tumble-down house, and a ghost or two — all the real pro- perty comes to Missie. You see, the Standens as a family are poor ; although they are come of such a very old stock Sir Marmaduke made his money in trade, though we never mention this ; and his wife had a large dowry too, one handed straight over to him on the wedding day, in the foolishest manner. There was an awful scandal about her,' she added, dropping her voice, ' and then the next thing we heard was that she went mad after Missie was born, which may account for her tantrums and tempers at times, which, as you know. Dr. Pearson, are something awful.' ^Well, we mustn't stop talking here any more,' answered the doctor, whose manner towards the housekeeper had completely changed since she had fallen in with his proposition to do without any formal inquiry i From Natural Causes,' 31 into the cause of Sir Marmaduke's sudden death ; ^ you have your work to do and I have mine ; I only hope Miss Standen won't have hysterics or any tantrums now. You send for the new baronet, anyway, and I will tell Smiles and Boscawen. I wish the next ten minutes were over ' — and so saying. Dr. Pearson opened the door cautiously, and slipped out into the passage, the housekeeper turning the key in the lock again as soon as he had left the room. Miss Standen was seated on the stairs, leaning against the balustrades, round wdiich her hands were twined as if to support herself from falling ; and as the doctor came out she raised her head and looked him full in the face, with calm brown eyes fixed on his. *'He is dead,'' she said, in a quiet un- emotional voice; ' you need not tell me, for I know he is dead.' ' My dear young lady,' began Dr. Pearson feebly, as he cleared his 82 A Tangled Chain. throat, and took one of the cool shm hands in his hot trembhng ones, ' Sir Marmaduke is at rest ; he is now in heaven, and ,' here to his horror Miss Standen laughed a low musical laugh. ' You, too,' she said quietly, ^you, too, who must see so much of the comedies of life and death to talk such con- ventional nonsense to me. Why, if there were a heaven do you suppose I should be here now ? Papa never for one moment credited these old wives' tales, and of course I don't either ; if he is dead he is dead, and so ends chapter one of my existence'— and the girl rose to her feet wearily, and was going down- stairs without another word, when Dr. Pear- son put a detaining hand on her shoulder. ^My dear,' he said, ' you are wrong, very wrong; you must not take the trouble that has come to you in such a dreadful manner. Sorrow is sent by God ; in time you will see your father again — now you are unhinged, ^ From Natural Causes,' 33 unstrung; do not try to talk, go and lie down. I will send ' — and here Dr. Pearson paused, as indeed he knew of no one to send to the help of this girl, for whose brain he had already begun to fear. * There is no one to send, save Laura at the Rectory, and they don't know she and I are friends,' said Liza Standen, still as quietly as if she were planning a party of pleasure ; ^ Papa never let me speak to a soul, but Laura and I have become acquainted on the sly; will you ask them if she may come, you can say you thought of it ; she is about my age too, it will sound natural ; and the rector is such an old fool, he will be sure to think it so; besides, I shall be rich now, and I shall have plenty of friends.' Doctor Pearson literally gasped for breath ; he remembered the mother in the lunatic asylum, and thought perhaps it would be best to humour the girl, whose senses of course VOL. I. c 34 A Tangled Chain, were temporarily deranged by the blow she had sustamed; and presently he said, 'Neither you nor I have had any breakfast, suppose we have a cup of coffee together before I go on my way; I promise you to send Laura Buckworth if they see no objection; but before I go I should like to see you more natural — can you not cry, dear ? it would do you a world of good/ * Cry?' asked the girl, as she went down- stairs and seated herself at the table prepared for her, and for him who would never eat nor drink with her again ; ' why should I cry ? It is so useless to cry for what is over and done. Wliy did papa die. Dr. Pearson ; will there have to be an inquest ? ' and here for the first time the hard clear voice broke a little, and a pale shade came over the beautiful quiet oval face. *No, no, my dear, nothing of the kind, thank heaven ! ' replied the doctor with ' From Natural Causes.' 35 emotion, his hand instinctively closing on the phial and glass safely ensconced in his coat pocket ; ' his heart was the cause, Miss Stand en ; he might have died at any moment this last ten years ; he could not have lived six months longer save by a miracle. I am only thankful his long sufferings are over, and he has died quietly in his bed — it might have been so awful/ ' You mean, you mean he has died of heart disease, and must have died anyhow,' ex- claimed Liza, jumping up and pacing the room in an agitated manner ; ' why was I not told this, I ought to have been; it might have altered my whole life.' * The very reason why you were not told,' replied Dr. Pearson, watching the girl with amazement ; ' you could not possibly have kept it from him, and the shock of such a piece of intelligence would have killed him on the spot ; beside which, think of VOL. I. c 2 36 A Tangled Chain. all yon would have endured any time he was five minutes late for dinner or breakfast ! No, no ! depend upon it, in such cases as these, silence is best, both for the victim himself and also for his friends/ 'I will never forgive you, never. Dr. Pearson ! ' said the girl fiercely, as she turned towards the door ; ' finish your breakfast and then never let me see your face again. I hate you ! I hate you ! I hate you ! ' and bursting into a flood of passionate tears, she ran from the room, and Dr. Pearson heard her door slam in a manner that echoed strangely indeed through the house, where already the indescribable silence of death was lying like a heavy though imperceptible pall. The doctor soon finished his breakfast, and telling Andrew what had happened, went home as fast as his trusted cob could take him, and going into the tiny space ' From Natural Causes.'' 37 that was dignified by the name of the con- sulting room, cast himself down into his armchair, and drawing the bottle from his pocket, groaned aloud as he contemplated it. ' Such a good man ! Such an excellent patient ! ' he muttered. ' I'll go to Buck- worth and sign the pledge this very evenmg ; if this don't sober a man I can't tell what will.' ' What's the matter, Tom '? ' asked a talL thin, half- starved looking woman, who was writing at a desk, which, with the armchair and an office stool was all the furniture the little chamber could contain. ' Is Sir Mar- maduke really dead ? If so, there will be a heavy account to send in to his executors.' ' That's not all, Betty,' said the doctor, almost in tears ; ' that's not all ; the poor old chap has been poisoned, and by me. They sent for his last draught in a hurry after the Forresters' dinner at the "Bear," 38 A Tangled Chain. and I must have been screwed ; there's enough prussic acid in here to kill twenty men. I think I'd better take the rest, and have done with it all. I shall feel like Cain for the remainder of my life/ * You needn't,' said Mrs. Pearson quietly ; I made up that draught, as I have made up hundreds of others, and there was no poison in it when it left me. Do you suppose for one moment that I should allow you to tamper with the drugs after a dinner at the ' ' Bear ' ' ? No ! Whoever has poisoned Sir Marmaduke, it is neither you nor I, rest assured of that, though, perhaps, I am a fool to tell you ; the dread might have sobered you for the rest of your life.' * It has anyhow,' replied Dr. Pearson; ' I'll never drink again ; these last few hours I've literally been in hell, and I don't run such another risk. I do believe old Luker was right — there's been foul play.' * From Natural Causes,' 39 ' What is to be on the certificate ? ' asked Mrs. Pearson, going on with her writing. ' Death from natural causes, and then the proper medical terms, which you know as well as I do,' said the doctor, rising and looking about for the forms. * Though now I am all right, perhaps it would be wiser if I were to send to Peters about an inquest.' ' Don't you do anything of the kind,' said Mrs. Pearson quietly. ' I have an idea there is money in this business. What should you say, Tom, to a London practice and a good income ? I, for one, am tired of Bridgeporth.' ' Say! why, that you are a brick for sug- gesting such a thing ' ! said the doctor, gallantly ; ' but that is as probable as that you should be presented at Court.' ' What are you doing ? ' shrieked his wife, rushing at him as he withdrew the cork of the phial previous to disposing of the con- tents in the fire. ' That once destroyed, 40 A Tangled Chain. good-bye to our chances of a better life than this. Give it to me, for heaven's sake ! ' *I'll give it you, certainly,' said Dr. Pearson, relinquishing it to his wife, who hastily locked it and the medicine glass up in her desk together. * But,' added he, as he watched her careful proceedings, ' I can't for the life of me see what you're driving at.' 'I don't suppose you can,' she answered contemptuously ; ' neither am I going to tell you. But you remember, I have never failed you yet. Now go off to your patients, and avoid the "Bear" bar, and we shall not quarrel. I will give you plenty of notice to allow of your selling this practice before I am ready for London. But I have a clue to the mystery, and if I don't make money out of it my name is not Bettina Pearson.' * Elizabeth Pearson, you mean,' said the doctor, laughing. ' Ah ! there's the bell,' he added, as the sullen sound of the knell * From Natural Causes,' 41 penetrated the air. ' The news has got wind, then. Now to tell all Bridgeporth that Su' Marmaduke's death was from heart- disease/ And so saying, he bustled off to his patients, leaving his wife at the desk, where were safely locked up all the evidence existent that Sir Marmaduke's demise had been caused by aught except natural causes. CHAPTEE II. PLANS FOR THE FUTURE. Liza Standen threw herself down in the low arm-chair that stood in the window recess in her room, when she rushed away from the presence of Dr. Pearson, and remained there for some time thinking deeply. At first torrents of tears had obscured her eyes, and heavy sobs shook her breast; but she soon became calm, and realizing that her father was dead and her future all her own, began to lay plans as to how she should best spend the next few months of her life ; but she had hardly come to any satisfactory conclusion in the matter, when a low knock Flans for the future, 43 came at the door, and the housekeeper's voice was heard begging for admission. Liza rose, and burying her face in her wet handkerchief once more, opened the door, and allowed her old nurse to enter. Casting a furtive glance at the sorrow- stricken girl, Mrs. Luker went to the window and drew down the blind ; then she said, ^ Your dear father is ready to be seen now, Missie ; will you come with me and look upon him?' * What for ? ' asked Liza coldly, drawing up the blind again. * What for ? ' said the housekeeper, throwing up her hands in horror ; ' what for ? why to see him, to say good-bye ; he looks years younger already, Missie, and so peaceful. Do'ee come, dearie,' pleaded she, insensibly falling back into the old familiar tones of Liza's childhood days ; * you'll never cry again when you see how happy he looks.' 44 A Tangled Chain, ' Happy ! oh, what nonsense,' exclaimed Liza, ' how could he be happy in being dead ? If he knew anything at all about it he would be furiously angry at leaving this lovely world and me, and as he does not I mean to remember him as he was last night, laughing over the paper and teasing Flick. I don't want to carry away a picture of him dead. Do leave the blind alone, Maria,' she added imperiously; 'I won't have it drawn down — it is too dull, too dark.' ' But what will folks say ? ' stammered the housekeeper ; ' you should not fly in the face of custom here, Missie dear, any more. It was all very well when Sir Marmaduke was here to look after you ; but now — oh ! my bairn, my heart aches for you ; you have not one friend in the world to tell you wrong from right, or right from wrong. And there's your black to see to, and me so ignorant — I don't even know if all crape is worn now- Flans for the future. 45 a-clays for a parent, or bombazine, or what not; 'I am not going to wear black,' said Liza calmly; 'nothing would induce me to. Papa hated it, and said what a sham it all was. Why, you must recollect nurse, I did not even wear black ribands for mamma, and I most certainly don't intend to be wrapped up in crape now. Oh ! don't think me heartless,' she added, her manner changing a little as she saw her old nurse's horrified face; 'recollect how different I am to every other girl who ever was born : how I have never seen a railway, or been a dozen miles from the Holt for the last twenty years ; how papa's one end and aim in life was to keep me from being like those fellow creatures of mine, to whom he would not even let me speak; how can I be a con- ventional daughter weeping her dead father ? Of course, he has been all in all to me, and 46 A Tangled Chain, I shall miss him horribly; but I can't be like other girls the moment he is dead, for he has always done his best to make me an original specimen, and he has succeeded. I have neither religion nor morals, and, thanks to him, have not a friend in the world to take me by the hand,' and once more bm'sting into tears she threw herself down on her knees by her nm^se and bmied her face in her dress, as if she would hide herself from the light. The housekeeper, much as she disapproved of Liza, could not refrain from mingling her tears with hers. 'There, there,' she said soothingly, after a while, ' don't cry so, Missie dear ; it can do no good, and will only make you ill. Have you never heard anything of your mother ? ' she added, when Liza's sobs were once more stayed, and she had risen from her lowly posture. 'Did Sir Marmaduke never mention her ? ' Plans for the future. 47 * Oh yes, often,' Liza replied wearily; * but only as one more reason why we should remain buried down here. She was the daughter of some man in trade, he said, and died like the Lady of Burleigh, from the *' burden of an honour unto which she was not born/' She was very pretty, you can see that' — and she opened a secret drawer in her desk, and took out an oval miniature of a simpering lady, with soft curls on each side of her face, and a large lace collar, in the fashion of about 1851. * This was done two years before they married. He was thirty- two when she became Lady Standen, and I believe she loved somebody else. However, she married papa, and here am I, twenty-two, and with only this to show that I have had a mother. I do wonder what she was like ! ' * My dear,' said the housekeeper, in an agitated whisper, holding the miniature in a very shaky hand, and pretending to look at 48 A Tangled Chain. it, the while she watched Liza carefully, * my dear, Dr. Pearson thinks you ought to know that there are doubts as to your mother's death. No one is sure, in fact.' ' In fact, she is alive, I suppose ? ' asked Liza, a fierce colour bm^ning in her cheeks. * "Well, there is another surprise ! Do you know she is not dead, nurse ? ' Then as she saw from her old nurse's face that such was indeed the state of the case, she paused for an instant, as if struck by a sudden idea, and then added, with an unsteady laugh — ' What did she do ? Did she run away from papa ? Did she rob the bank, or murder anyone ? ' — her voice faltered a little here. * Come, out with it. There is one thing about my education — it has most certainly eradicated any trace of feeling in me ' — and she laughed again, still more unsteadily than before. ^ Never mind breaking it to me, I really feel as if I could bear anything ; and if you know Flans for the future, 49 she is still in the land of the living, you must know, too, why she has been dead to us for so long.' ' She is not wicked, only unfortunate,' wept Mrs. Luker. 'Prepare for a shock, dear Missie ; your poor mother is shut up — that is to say ' ' Then that is why I have been kept separate from my fellow-creatures,' inter- rupted Liza, turning as white as a sheet. 'Well, I can't blame papa; a convict's daughter is not fit company for other gMs.' ' She ain't a convict, Missie dear. Poor soul ! she'd be happier if she were, may-be,' said Mrs. Luker sadly. ' She is shut up because she ain't in her right mind, and hasn't been since a week after you were born ; in fact, she is really mad — dangerous. That's why Sir Marmaduke put her away ; she actually tried to kill him ! ' ' Then that accounts for it ! ' exclaimed VOL. I. D 50 A Tangled Chain. Liza, starting to her feet and clasping her hands. ' I don't know what you mean, exactly/ said Mrs. Luker meditatively ; ' but it certainly does account for the poor lady being in an asylum; but don't go for to worry about it, it ain't hereditary. No other member of her family ever went mad, and this was entirely due to a shock given her at a time when she couldn't well bear it. It's a sad story, and a warning to all who marry for anything but love. However, this ain't a time to talk of love, and your poor papa not cold yet, and a thousand things to see to. Andrew has telegraphed for the " hare," but neither he nor his mother can be here for hours.' ' Who has Andrew telegraphed to ? ' asked Liza suspiciously. ' This is my house, Maria, and I want no one here until I know what I am going to do.' Plans for the future, 51 * Young Mr. Charles Standen and his mother/ said Mrs. Luker ; ' Sir Charles, as he is now. The lawyers said he must come, and of course Mrs. Standen must be with him ; it would never do for a young gentle- man to be staying here alone with you, even at such a time as this.' ' Oh, what nonsense ! ' ejaculated Liza angrily ; ' anyhow, they don't come here. Why, I never spoke to a young man in my life, and I'm not going to be bothered by strangers now. There's the ** Black Bear," they can sleep there ; though why they come at all, I can't think. Charles Standen may have the title, but he receives nothing else, and this house, as I said before, is mine.' * Well, well, Missie, it ain't many young ladies who'd like to be left alone in this big place, with a coffin in it,' said Mrs. Luker mysteriously. ^ I ain't a coward, and I'd go in and out all day long, for Sir Marmaduke's VOL. I. D 2 LIBRARY 52 A Tangled Chain. a pleasant sight ; still, night and day are different tales ; and, though Andrew ain't of much account, I shall not be sorry to re- member he's bound to stay all night with me ; which is the one mercy about matri- mony ; thieves and ghosts alike are less likely to go where two are than where one bides alone.' ' Ghosts ! pah ! ' said Liza scornfully ; * that nonsense comes of going to church ; you should believe nothing and then you'd fear nothing. I can't think myself what religion was made for.' ' To keep people straight, of course, and to make them loving and affectionate,' replied Mrs. Luker severely. ' You'd feel your poor papa's death a million times more and take your trouble a thousand times better if you'd any thoughts of God and heaven to help you; as it is, you shock me. Miss Liza, and I only hope you will not shock all the world beside ; Plans for the future. 53 remember you will want friends, and to make real good ones yon must be like other people/ ' I won't be like other people,' exclaimed Liza, throwing open a couple of big scrap- books that lay on her table. ' Look here, nurse ; these are accounts of what other people do — other people, you know, who go to church, wear black for each other, and go out to parties and have friends ; all these bits of paper are cut out of The Times and Daily Netvs, and the World, and papa said I was to look upon these as so many direc- tion posts pointing to Bridgeport!! and away from the world of fashion — there's some improving reading in these volumes, I do assure you. I've got four or five all full of murders, and thefts, and horrors of all sorts, to say nothing of accounts of fine ladies and noble lords who live lives our fishermen and women in the village would scorn to copy. 54 A Tangled Chain. See here ! ' and she placed her finger on a long account of the very last fashionable divorce case. * Nice improving reading that for a young lady,' said the housekeeper flushing. 'You'd better read your Bible, Missie, and your prayer-book, any day. Well ! I can but hope trouble will soften you and bring you to a better frame of mind.' ' Trouble. What is trouble ? ' said Liza dreamily. ' I wonder if ever I shall long for papa and the old days here when I am far away ? That reminds me,' she added, after a moment's pause, ' I must see my mother before I set out on my travels. My mother ! I can hardly believe she is alive and mad. Mad ! What is mad, I wonder ? ' * What people will say you are, if you sit at the window in that red dress, and the bell still tolling in Bridgeporth,' said Mrs. Luker angrily. ' Come, Missie, put on your black - Plans for the future. 5^ serge frock and sit down and write to your dressmaker ; it will be something to distract your thoughts, which, I take it, is one of the great uses of ordering black; it eases the spirits like, and softens down the idea of the loss. Why ! ' she exclaimed, as she went up to the window to make another attempt to darken the chamber in the orthodox way, ' if I don't believe there's the rector and Miss Laura ! Well ! the rector's right enough, but Miss Laura — I suppose her ma has sent her off to spy about.' ' Nothing of the sort. I sent for her — she's my friend,' said Liza quickly. She is good to come at once. Run down, nursie, and tell her to come up dhectly, there's a good soul; but don't let Mr. Buckworth put his nose inside the hail ; we don't want any parsons here. Come, be quick, there's a dear creature ! ' ' I don't stir an inch until your frock is 56 A Tangled Chain. changed, not if I stay here till doomsday/ said Mrs. Liiker firmly, getting out the dress from the drawer, and pulling the blind down with a jerk that made Liza remember her nursery days, and similar jerks and pulls administered to refractory locks and frocks. * I know Mr. Buckworth's tongue, and Miss Laura's a chip of the old block ; and how you two have become acquainted passes my com- prehension, so strict as were Sir Marmaduke's orders too.' * Many things will pass your compre- hension before we part company, Maria,' said Liza easily, as she took off the offending garment, and put on the orthodox hue of mourning. * Don't look upon my obedience now as a foretaste of the future. I only comply to get rid of you quickly, and because I want Laura. Now rush down to her ; tell Mr. Buckworth any lie you like to get rid of him, and don't come near us until luncheon- Plans for the future. 57 time,' and so saying, Liza finished fastening her dress ; and Mrs. Luker, not knowing, as she stated afterwards many times, whether she stood on her head or her heels, went down stairs to the rector, who was too brimful of cmiosity respecting the manner and time of Sir Marmaduke's death, and was far too much engaged in taking a mental photograph of the Holt dining-room for Mrs. Buckworth's benefit, to notice the very lame manner in which Mrs. Luker attempted to excuse Miss Standen to him, the while she begged for Miss Laura's immediate company for her young mistress. ' You are sure Miss Standen would rather not see me ? ' he said, just before leaving. 'Well, should she change her mind, Miss Laura can bring me word. Curious she should beg for Miss Laura, considering they have never met, or, rather, have never spoken. Ah ! I suppose we shall see many changes at 58 A Tangled CI Lain. the Holt now, Mrs. Luker '? The good old days will return, and Bridgeporth charities will not be forgotten, eh ? ' ' Can't say, I m sure, sir,' said Mrs. Luker, who being a staunch dissenter had but faint appreciation of Mr. Buckworth's merits ; ' it's early days, and my poor master scarcely cold,' and putting her handkerchief to her eyes, she began to sob. ' Ah, yes, indeed; I had forgotten,' uttered the rector hastily. 'Well, Laura,, child, do;^ your best to cheer the orphan ' ; then he added, ^> hastily, ' perhaps I had better wait here until you have gone up with our good friend ; ' Miss Standen may have altered her mind ' — and, as if suddenly struck with the idea, the rector seated himself pompously and heavily on one of the old oak hall-chairs, and watched his daughter disappear up the staircase in the wake of the housekeeper, thus gaining at least five minutes more time, to add details to Plans for tlie fidiire, 59 the picture he would have to unfold for the inspection of his loving wife. Indeed, the Holt, Sir Marmaduke, Liza, and all that appertained to them, had so long been the one subject of conversation in Bridgeporth, that the rector might well be forgiven his natural curiosity; and he was meditating whether dread of a draught from the hall door would be sufficient excuse for penetrating to the drawing-room, when Mrs. Luker returned, and assuring him that Miss Standen was in far too much grief to see him, showed him out so quickly that he almost tumbled down the steps, and only recovered his usual calm manner half-way down the avenue, where he paused for a moment — noticing with all the horror of an orthodox churchman, that at least two windows were uncurtained, and that at one of them were to be seen two faces, that he trusted were the property of the maid 60 A Tangled Chain. servants, the while he felt assured that they belonged to his daughter and to the mysterious heiress ; and shaking his head, he hurried home, wondering if he were not im- perilling his daughter's soul by allowing her to be in company w^ith a girl who could look out of the window, with her father lying dead in the same house. He would have shaken it still more if he €Ould have heard the talk that went on in that luxurious room, more especially if he had known that the pause in his walk had caused Liza to say — "I do think your father the very funniest little man I ever saw. I do wish he did not always remind me of a good- natured pig on his hind legs. If I were you, Laura, I'd get him to gTow a beard, the re- semblance then would not be quite as striking as it is now ! ' But as he could not hear words said behind a glass window a hundred yards or more off, he returned home, brimming Flans for the future, 61 with news, and feeling rather more pleased with himself than usual, which was saying a very great deal indeed. When Laura first entered Miss Standen's bed-room she had felt that indescribable sensation of strangeness and nervousness, that makes one's most intimate friend a dread and pain to encounter for the first time after they have lost those who, presumably, have been dear to them. There is a strangeness, almost a sacredness, about anyone who has recently been face to face with death, and, in consequence, a meeting after such an encounter must always be fraught with some degree of dread and uncomfortableness. There is no knowing how sorrow will be greeted, whether as a friend or as a foe ; or if we are to speak of those who are gone or to carefully avoid their names, and as there is nothing so different on earth as the effect caused by a loss, so until we have felt our way and 62 A Tangled Chain, ascertained what we are to say and do, we must invariably feel strangers even to our nearest and dearest friends; and though Laura had a pretty shrewd guess as to Liza's real feelings, she yet hesitated a little as to what she should say first when she found herself in Liza's presence, more espe- cially as the black dress seemed to denote that, after all, she and sorrow had met and clasped hands. But all dread and hesitation disappeared when Liza sprang to her feet, and, rapturously greeting her, drew her down beside her on the sofa. ' We little dreamed of this yesterday, did we ? ' she asked. ' Oh ! Laura ! think of it — free, free at last ! ' * But Sir Marmaduke ? ' faltered Laura, feeling rather as if she had received a sudden douche of cold water. ' Are you not sorry your father is dead ? You have been crying, Flans for the future, 63 Liza ; do be natural, clear. I shall think no worse of yon, I can tell you, if you break down now it has really and truly come. You were fond of him, weren't you ? ' ' Laura ! Laura ! I am natural — quite natural,' said Liza impatiently; 'and that's why I sent for you, as nothing I can say or do will shock you or alter our friendship. You know what I am and what I want to be. No,' she added, after a few moments; *I will not pretend one atom to you. I am not sorry papa has gone. I have lost my gaoler. At last I shall go away from Bridgeporth, and I shall see the world. I have been crying, but not for that — for things I won't even tell you, for I have my secrets. Now we won't think of anything disagreeable. Where shall we go first — what shall we do ? ' 'I don't think mamma will let me go,' said Laura, tears coming into her blue eyes. ' You see, I'm eldest. Then, too, Liza, you 64 A Tangled Chain, must have someone who has seen a Httle of the world. If Sh' Marmaduke has been your gaoler, poverty has been mine. I, too, have never left Bridgeporth — fourteen miles from a station and small means keep people very stationary, you know, and this wi'etched in- come of papa's is a reason, too, why I must remain. Someone must help mamma with all those dreadful boys. You will go away and forget all about me,' and the tears left Laura's eyes and came trickling down her round red cheeks. * I shall pay you a salary that will keep a governess at home,' said Liza grandly. 'Anyhow, I must have you with me; you never care what I say, and nothing shocks you, yet you serve as a drag on the wheels. You have relations who come to see you; you have dined out, and played tennis, and talked to someone out of your own house, this I never have done, so you can tell me Plans for the future. 66 when I have gone far enough. Papa's ideas of education were queer, as you know. I have had a regular course of instruction in the wickedness, dulness, and folly of the world, and now I am determined to find out the other side of the question for myself, and while I am finding it you must act as sign- post to me as regards my manners and con- versation.' * But suppose there is no other side to the question; suppose the world is as bad as Sir Marmaduke said it was ? ' asked Laura. * Papa is always preaching about the hollowness and wickedness of it all ; so perhaps there is nothing there but sin and suffering.' * Anyhow, I am going to find it out for myself,' said Liza easily; * your father, I suppose, is paid to say so ; he has taken a brief for the other side, as papa used to say, and so is bound to talk nonsense. If I have read all these paragraphs here,' she added ^ VOL. I. B 66 A Taiigled Chain. touching the books that were open on the table, * I have read others too ; and I mean to go to balls and theatres and concerts, and enjoy myself ; I only hope I shan't go mad with joy — oh, dulness has much to answer for ! if I had not been deadly, deadly dull ; if papa had lived the life of an ordinary gentle- man, things would have been very different ; he is responsible, not I, for any folly or wickedness I may commit or have committed,' and Liza rose from the sofa and walked quickly up and down the room in a manner she always did when she was excited or harassed in the least. * Oh, you won't be wicked, and folly in an heiress is always excusable,' said Laura shrewdly ; ' only Liza, do you remember you don't know one single soul in London, and you can't get into society there, unless you have a helping hand held out to you. Now my advice is this : spend your year of mourning Flans for the future. 67 quietly here, going to all the houses in the county to teas or luncheon — not dinners; no, dinners mean dress, and dress is not in keeping with crape; then, either Lady Peters or the Duchess will take you in hand, and there you are. The moment you are seen at the rectory,' she added (with all the country parson's daughter's conceit and belief in the almighty powers of that proud position), ' that moment people will come to the Holt.' Liza burst out into a peal of laughter. ' It is very good of you,' she said, when she could speak ; ' but not even the joy of being received by the rectory, to say nothing of the county, will keep me here one mstant after I know what my income is, and how papa has arranged matters ; as to mourning, as no one knows me in London, no one will expect me to keep up a farce, that even on your own showing is too ridiculous. Grief must be a queer thing if it allows people to go out to VOL. I. E 2 68 A Tangled Chain. tea and luncheon, and yet draws the line at a dinner. If I felt sorry for papa's death in the least, I should be drowned in tears, and should die too ; but I am not — it is his own fault that I am not — and come what will, Laura, I will not pretend to be anything or anyone but what I am.' ' But everyone is sorry for their father's death,' persisted Laura ; ' and so you must say you are, or no one will speak to you.' ' Then they can let it alone,' replied Liza ; * but you forget the power of gold ; beside, whatever I do, I can fall back on my bringing up. Is your father — are all fathers — I wonder, as touchy and tiresome as mine was ? But they couldn't be. Yours, at any rate, is distributed among ten offsprings. I had the whole strength of mine turned on to me, and how I bore it as long as I did I can't think. He was eccentric — a bore ; and cared more about his dinner, his wine, his Flans for the future. 69 daily papers than for anything else. If he had cared for me he would not have kept me here.' ' All the world says you were devoted to each other,' suggested Laura in a small voice. ' The world ! What world ? The world of Bridgeporth, I presume,' said Laura contemp- tuously. 'Well,' added she, after a moment's pause, ' perhaps it is as well that Bridgeporth should take that view of the question. A devoted daughter is always a safe card to play. It maybe, until after the funeral, I had better be the proper-minded miss. I'll ask your mother to get my black — be too overcome to leave my home, where I have plenty to do, and as many books and papers as I want to read, and a whole heap of chocolate creams ; and then — and then — why, then, of course, my health and spirits will require immediate change, and off you and I go together. Your mother must be sent for, Laura. She shall 70 A Tangled Chain. have such confidence in me, that she will consent to anything I ask her. Shall I ring for Luker, and tell her to send for her post- haste ? Get out the Queen and the Ladifs Fictorial, and read the advertisements. I really don't know what black is worn. I am as ignorant as even my old nm*se is ' — and Liza rose as if she were about to ring the bell. 'Stop a minute,' said Lam^a hastily. 'If mamma once gets her foot in here, she'll remain as long as ever you do, and she'll send me home to mind the house and look after papa. Before this happens we should have some plans, Liza. If we do get away, where do you mean to go, and how do you mean to manage ? ' ''I have settled everything. See here/ said Liza, taking an advertisement .out of her purse, and handing it over to her friend ; ' I saw this in Tuesday's Times, and also in the Flans for the future, 71 Guardian, and I thought it might do. Two ladies, you see, want two more to live with them, to share their home and the society they have. Of course, I shall make enquiries, and have references. But it sounds well. Did you notice that they live in Belgravia, and are reduced in circumstances by reason of the depression in agriculture ? ' ' Then they'll be Irish and eccentric,' said Laura, still reading the advertisement. ' Funnily enough, Liza, they have given Uncle John's address.' ' Who on earth is Uncle John ? ' asked Liza. ^ He's a lawyer. I thought everyone knew him,' replied Laura, ' anyhow, if he manages their business, mamma will be satisfied and pleased. And you go to these ladies at once, Liza, always supposing they will take us in ? ' * No, not at once. I shall go and look after my mother,' said Liza. 'Oh, I forgot, you 72 A Tangled Chain. didn't know she was alive, poor thing. She is in an asylum, and mad ; but I mean to see her for myself. This may be papa's way of disposing of her, and she may not be mad after all. He did not like her. She bothered him ; wasn't a lady, you know, and had vulgar relations, and he may have got her placed with some unscrupulous doctor ; it is easy enough. I wonder, by the way, he never got shut up himself; I am sure he was mad to bring me up as he did.' * There was no one to tell of him,' said Laura. * That's true enough,' rej)lied Liza ; ' but now, Laura, what do you say ? Shall I send for your mother, or not ? Shall I be natural, or unnatural ? The orthodox daughter, or Liza Standen herself? An unpleasant, but original creature, or creatures ? for really sometimes I verily believe I am two different individuals bound up in one skin. One nice, Flans for the f tit lire, 73 good, amiable. The other unscrupulous, designing, wicked, determined to enjoy hfe, and to take all I can get, whether I have to steal it or not. Not that I should mind this, if the two would agree, but they won't, and sometimes, particularly when the mischief comes to the fore, I am very uncomfortable.' ' That is your conscience,' said little ortho- dox Laura. ' Bosh ! rather say some mild ancestor, endeavouring to live again in me,' replied Liza, in a more forcible than ladylike manner ; ' however, once out of Bridgeporth, I bid him or her good-bye. Neither con- science nor aught else shall spoil my life. I have long arrears to make up. Do you know 1 am twenty-two already, not nearly as pretty as I was, and here I might have remained until I became a withered old maid. All! it won't bear thinking of. Come, Laura, send for your mother, and let us be melancholy, 74 A Tangled Chain, or I shall forget myself entirely, and I really do want to leave a good character behind me/ So saying, Liza rang the bell, and scribbling a note, sent off Andrew for Mrs. Buckworth, much to Mrs. Luker's anger, and the extreme joy of the rector's most excellent wife, who, apart from any natural curiosity, really felt all a mother's sympathy for the poor girl at the Holt, who had so suddenly been left alone in a world of which she appeared to be as ignorant as the world undoubtedly was of her. CHAPTEK III. AN EDGELESS TOOL. The day after Sir Marmaduke Stand en's death, the weather changed in the sudden manner it so often does in September, and a raving, roaring wind swept down the hills from the sea, laden with mist and rain, that played havoc among the flower beds, tore down the gTeat magnolia from the front of the house, and finally threw down several of the largest trees in the park ; while Liza Standen, driven to despair by the weather and the presence of Mrs. Biickworth in the house, began to wish that she too were dead, or that the awful week would pass, during 76 A Tangled Chain, which, according to custom, her father's body lay in semi-state in the hbrary, care- fully watched by hired mourners, who, doubtless, were as anxious for their task to be over as ever Liza was to see the last of them. If she could have wandered about the grounds matters would not have been so unbearable, but as it was she hterally felt as if she must scream aloud and drop the mask she had assumed for Mrs. Buckworth's benefit, little knowing how ill it fitted and how thoroughly well the shrewd woman knew what was false and what was real in the manner and behaviour of the curious girl. Quite unlike the ordinary clergyman's wife, Mrs. Buck worth was emphatically a woman of the world ; and if at times she confessed to herself that in her husband she had a man as companion who was about as foolish and self-satisfied a being as ever existed, and An edgeless Tool. 11 who added neither to her happiness nor to her welfare, she was shrewd enough to recog- nise that being married to him was a better fate than would have been hers had she and he never met. Overdone with children, often not knowing how to clothe, feed, or educate them, when she contrasted her position with that of the underpaid governess she once was, she still felt, to a certain extent, grateful to him ; and recognising that for her life could never hold much that was pleasant or satisfactory again, she bent all her energies towards securing for her children something a little more promising than had been afforded her. Spurred on by this hope, undaunted by sickness and babies, Mrs. Buckworth had educated her children as few mothers could have done ; and in her moments of leisure, when walking briskly over the rough country roads or on the shore, she would busy her- 78 A Tangled Chain. self with observing carefully each child's natural bent ; the while she looked ahead and wondered over and over again, how she was to manage to provide special education for the active brains and hands that the children, one and all, seemed to inherit from her. Fortunately one day something suggested to her that she might try and write, as so many women wrote, and casting her thoughts abroad determined to try her hand at the craft. Of course, at first, no success crowned her efforts ; allegories, in- structive tales of village children all seemed drugs in the market, and all returned to her with a regularity that was trying to the stoutest heart ; but Mrs. Buckworth was not to be conquered by fate, and by the time she had begun to blush hotly whenever she casually met the village postman, a little sketch she had sent to a paper was accepted ; she had found her groove, and, notwith- An edgeless Tool, 19 standing the numerous calls upon her time, was able to earn enough to send two of the boys to an excellent school and to give Laura some lessons, sharing the expenses of a really good governess with the daughter of one of the smaller county gentry in the neighbourhood. To such a woman as this, the idea of the friendship existing between her daughter and the young mistress at the Holt, had come almost as a special gift from provi- dence ; but as Mrs. Buckworth watched Liza,^ with the careful eye of a mother accustomed to look out for small straws that should show the direction of the current, she reluc- tantly came to the conclusion that no child of hers could ever be allowed to become a bosom friend of such an abnormal creature as she recognised, unwillingly, Liza Standen to be ; and, sorry as she was for her, she yet felt obliged to tell Liza this, one evening 80 A Tangled Chain. when they were alone together, and Liza was occupying herself with adding some particularly realistic accounts of crime to her already over-filled collection of cuttings of a similar character. ' I don't think, if I were you,' she began (the soft white knitting she was busy over lying for a moment disregarded on the table), * I really don't think, Liza, that I should read such awful things as you do; there are so many good books in the world, why not try them, and give up adding to that terrible collection of yours ? ' ' Because papa always wished me to read how bad the world is ; and now he is dead it would be mean to give up doing what he told me to,' replied Liza calmly ; ' besides, I like horrors, Mrs. Buckworth, and it always amuses me to see how foolish criminals are; they invariably leave something behind them, or forget some detail that makes detection An edgeless Tool. 81 imperative ; and I can't help thinking how much better I should manage if I were in their places. Still,' added she, as she recognised that she was making a false step, * I will give it all up if you like; anyhow, I won't allow Laura to share my literature.' ' I am afraid you will be disappointed,' said Mrs. Buckworth firmly, * and I am afraid you will be very angry with me, too ; but you must not think anything more about Laura ; I could not spare her from home, even if I could trust her with you ; but you have been so strangely brought up, you have so little idea of right and wrong, that I should not dare to let you see my daughter alone any more. Forgive me, Liza, but I always say straight out what I think ; and it is better to tell you at once the resolution I have made, then you can form other plans at once.' * But why have you come to this conclu- sion ? ' asked Liza, much amused at Mrs. VOL. I. F 82 A Tangled Chain. Buckworth's evident fear of her anger. ' I have behaved like an angel all the time you have been here ; I have even put up with Mr. Standen's flatteries and fooleries, and I don't believe I have uttered one speech that anyone could object to; I have done my very best to be all I should be, and I am sure the effort has nearly killed me/ 'Exactly so,' replied Mrs. Buckworth; *I have seen all through what an effort it has been to you to be even silent. I have noticed your favourite pursuits, your favourite reading, and I have heard sentiments from your lips that are inexcusable in a Christian country. You are like no one I have ever seen, Liza, and I dare not trust Laura with you ; remem- ber, she has deceived us all by knowing you at all, and this indicates to me that she is not trustworthy. Had she a stronger intellect and will than those you possess, matters might be different; but I cannot An edgeless Tool, 83 imperil my child's soul, even to secure her present benefits — even if I could secure her those.' * Why, of course you would ! ' exclaimed Liza. ' There is no ''if" in the matter. She is miserable at home, in all the turmoil and poverty by which she is surrounded. She longs for better clothes, better food, for a nicer house, and a sight of the world. Were I you, I should be frightened lest she should hate me, if you condemn her to go on as she has been going. Kemember she has had at least a glance at the Promised Land, how she would detest anyone who draws down a veil between her and it again. Thmk of that side of the picture, Mrs. Buckworth.' ' My child would never hate her mother,' rephed Mrs. Buckworth in a dignified manner. ' She will be disappointed, of course; sorry, and perhaps a little angry; but in time she will see I have acted for the VOL. I. F 2 84 A Tangled Chain. best. Has she ever complained to you of her Hfe, Liza, or are you drawing on your own imagination ? ' and Mrs. Buckworth resumed her knitting, but with fingers that trembled too much to be of any service to her. ' She has not complained exactly,' replied Liza heedlessly ; ' but I know she shared all my sentiments of hatred towards Bridgeporth; and when I declared the place was a prison she agreed with me. I don't believe I should ever have made friends with her if our acquaintance had not had a spice of romance about it ; but now we are friends, you can't have the heart to separate us. It was dul- ness that made her first of all deceive you, and dulness may have a worse effect on her yet. Have you the smallest notion what life here is like for a young and active gii-l ? ' ^ I was only your age, Liza, when I came here first,' said Mrs. Buckworth rising fi'om the table, and walking to the window she An edgeless Tool. 85 looked out into the night, as if to gain a few moments' time ; then she added — ^ You will never let this go any farther ; but I will tell you, as it may serve to help you and Laura too. I used to rage against my life. I used to think what the world was doing, and how much went on that I should have enjoyed had I only been somewhere where I could have shared in all the rush and hurry that was so delightful. I have walked round and round the vicarage garden, clenching my hands and trying to bear the monotony, and I have wandered up and down the lanes, and about the cliffs, feeling as if I were going mad. The long, terrible winter seemed to literally crush me to the earth; then some merciful break came in my life — it seemed anything save merciful then. Brian, my eldest boy, nearly died, and when he was well once more, I learned how much I could do for others ; and from my own sufferings and anguish 86 A Tangled Chain, discovered how much I might be to those by whom I was sm-rounded, and for whom before I had never had a thought. I don't suppose,' she added humorously, and putting her hand caressingly on Liza's head; *I don't suppose you are one little bit grateful to me for coming here to you ; but I should never have done that if Brian's illness had not taught me to see in other children my child, and to try and do for them what others did for me in that terrible time/ ' You don't like me,' replied Liza care- lessly, as she took Mrs. Buckworth's hand in hers and looked at it critically ; * you don't trust me either, nor will you let me have Laura ; and yet, as I said before, I have tried to behave so very well.' ' Don't look at my poor worn hands,' said Mrs. Buckworth. *Ah! Liza, contrast your slim cool ones with my weather-beaten, work- stained paws, and think what yours An edgeless Tool. 87 might do if they would ; and yet here you are only thinking of getting away from, your father's house and enjoying the world. Can I like you, child ? Can I think you any- thing but heartless ? Five days have I been with you, and yet you have never shed a tear ! ' ' I would not be a hypocrite, that is why/ replied Liza with spuit. ' You accuse me of heartlessness — of not being like other girls ; but you forget my bringing up, Mrs. Buck- worth. Papa told me that the world was utterly bad and selfish ; that religion and fine feeling were matters appertaining to one's digestion, and that faith was another word for foolish credulence. He pointed his morals always from the daily press ; he had chapter and verse for all his statements. He was a pessimist, only caring for his dinners and his wines, and a few things like that. If ever I read of a fine action — a noble deed — 88 A Tangled Chain. he could always supply some low motive for such deeds — such actions. And if I wanted to interest myself in the poor, or even in our own servants and people, he used to tell me such horrid stories of their ingratitude and their eye-service, that I gave it all up. I am not sorry he is dead, not one bit. He killed every hope, every fine feeling I ever had, and I could but look upon him as my gaoler rather than as my father.' * There is another side to the picture, darkly as you have painted it, Liza,' said Mrs. Buckworth quietly ; ' you must remem- ber your father's life in the world had been a very hard one ; he had been singularly un- fortunate in his relations with other people. Until some time after he was married he never knew your mother's love was giv^n elsewhere, and though he had married her undoubtedly for her money, he would have settled down to the quiet and easy country An edgeless Tool. 89 life he loved, had not he discovered that her whole heart was given elsewhere, and that she had only married him when she really believed her lover was faithless; it was the shock of hearing from him again that drove her mad/ ' You are making all this up,' exclaimed Liza, interrupting Mrs. Buckworth rudely. * Even if it were true, how should you hear about it, I should like to know ? ' ' You easily may know,' replied Mrs. Buckworth, ' as now there is no mystery about it. When Sir Marmaduke came to the Holt first, I used to see a great deal of both him and you ; and in a moment of confidence — really to excuse to me some harshness of which liQ had been guilty — he told me the whole story, and, besides that, mentioned to me too how his own first love had been false — had thrown him over when he was poor to marry a man whose failure — and a disgraceful 90 A Tangled Chain, failure, too — gave her small chance of profiting by her treachery — telling me that this would have made him care for his wife if nothing else would ; but her brain was never strong, and the lover forced himself into her pre- sence, wickedly, cruelly, and reproached her so terribly that she could not bear it at such a time. Poor soul ! she has never been free from fearful paroxysms of madness since.' ' He need not have sent her away,' said Liza in a low voice ; ' neither need he have shut me up here all the best years of my life/ ' He did not send her away until he was obliged,' replied the rector's wife quietly. * She nearly killed you and threatened to murder him, and he shut you up here, Liza, because he wanted you to know nothing of the world, neither did he wish you to hear of your mother — remember, he was a compara- tively young man when he died, and he An edgeless Tool, 91 expected to live for years. His system of education was horrible, certainly ; he had never wanted any other guide than his own sense, he said, and he hated religion, and I could wish you had had a different bringing up — still, you must own he had a little right on his side too ? ' * Why did he quarrel with you and the rector ? ' asked Liza, after a few moments' pause, during which she appeared to be thinking deeply. A faint blush suffused Mrs. Buckworth'& cheek. * There was a misunderstanding with Mr. Buckworth,' she answered, * and then he closed his doors against the whole world.' * All ! I see,' replied Liza smiling, * the rector was jealous.' * My dear, my dear ! don't imagine such a thing for a moment,' exclaimed Mrs. Buck- worth, hastily checking the girl. ' He dreaded 92 A Tangled Chain, Sir Marmaduke's influence over me, because he read books with me the rector thought heretical, and there were other things too ; however, all that is over and done with, and I should never have told you all I have had I not hoped to make you think of him more kindly — to try and draw your thoughts away from your own wrongs to his sufferings ; and, were I you, I should for your year of mourning remain here, learning the people and trying to benefit your tenants a little. Let me give you some books to read ; burn those dreadful *' Newgate Calendars " there, and, in fact, fit yourself among us for the society of which you know nothing, and where you are sure to be imposed upon dreadfully.' 'You forget I have not a whole year to waste in useless pretence at mourning,' replied Liza. * I am twenty-two, the best part of my life is rushing away, and I have never once seen the world ; I cannot settle down An edgeless Tool. 9 here without first of all trying my wings, Mrs. Buckworth, before which I mean to go and see my mother.' 'You cannot go about the world alone,' replied Mrs. Buckworth quietly; 'that you know so little of it will not excuse you in its eyes for outraging Mrs. Grundy.' ' The world has gone ahead since your time,' answered Liza carelessly ; ' you forget my money, my position. I assure you, once my romantic story becomes known, I shall be the rage. I am good-looking, fairly young, and no fool ; and I am not one bit afraid of Mrs. Grundy or Mrs. Anybody-else ; life holds out both her hands to me now, Mrs. Buckworth ; I am not going to turn my back on her.' ' But there is right and wrong to consider, even if you do not care for the world,' per- sisted Mrs. Buckworth ; ' you cannot live alone, you must recollect the duties you have 94 A Tangled Chain. to perform ; remember the poverty and miseiy down by the harbour — the tumble-down cottages where your tenants shiver through the winter nights. You have a good heart, Liza, you must do something for them surely ? ' ' I don't care for anything or anyone now except myself/ replied Liza; *I have been defrauded of my youth, and I mean to repay myself as quickly as I can ; that is one good thing about my bringing-up, you see I have not one qualm — not one religious scruple. I can do just as I like, because I have no sense of right and wrong — no dread of bogie to keep me in the narrow path. After all, I think papa's method was the best ; I should be inclined to listen to you had he not taught me how futile such ideas were. This life is all we are sure of, Mrs. Buckworth ; it is un- certain how long we may possess it; therefore, I mean to make hay while the sun shines.' An edgeless Tool, 95 * Time will be your only teacher, time and experience,' said Mrs. Buckwortli sadly; *you will then discover for yourself where true happiness is to be found. I shall say no more on the subject, Liza; only remember this, your duty lies here ; turn your back on that, and you will never have a second chance given you of really doing good in the world. You may snatch at your pleasures but you will find them dead-sea apples; better remain among your own people, doing the ^'work that's nearest, though 'tis dull at whiles," as Charles Kingsley says.' *Did you ever hear the fable of the fox who lost his tail in a trap and tried to persuade all his brethren that tails were out of fashion ? ' asked Liza impertinently. * I do believe you are a good woman, and though I detest you for doing it, I do think you refuse me Laura because you honestly credit me with the power of making her lose her 96 A Tangled Chain. soul ; but you don't persuade me to stop here, I can tell you ! Of course it would be pleasanter for you all if I did, and better for the village ; but I am not going to, no, not for one moment after to-morrow's ceremony; and if you will not let Laura come with me, we shall probably never meet any more. I shall let the Holt, if any one can be persuaded to take the place, and I trust I shall never see it or hear the moan of the sea again; how I have lived through the last few years at all, I don't know,' and Liza threw herself down in her chair and gazed gloomily into the fire. At that moment the little clock struck eleven, and Mrs. Buckworth rose. 'It is very late, better go to bed now,' she said, with tears in her eyes, as she thought of the undisciplined ghl and the terrible lessons she would have to learn. ' I will be up early and remain with you during the funeral, you An edgeless Tool, 97 may like to read the service ' — and so saying, she gathered up her belongings, and bid- ding Liza good-night walked home to the Eectory, pondering deeply over the talk with Liza, and coming to the conclusion that nothing should persuade her to allow a child of hers ever to associate for one instant with her again. Liza spent the hour of her father's funeral alone in her own room. She had refused to see Mrs. Buckworth when she arrived, and as the preparations began, had flown upstairs, and locked the door against all intruders, determined that neither herself nor her con- duct should be the subject of talk in the village if she could in any way help it. Moving the blind just a little to one side, she watched the modest cortege wind its way down the avenue, where only that day week Sir Marmaduke had walked, a living man ; and a bitter smile curled her lip as she thought VOL. I. G 98 A Tangled Chain. how death had conquered that iron will, and how she, his prisoner, as she termed herself, was employing the horn- of his burial in selecting what she should take, and what she should leave, when she made the plunge into the outside world, that seemed to beckon her away. And although she came down and sat through the reading of the will — listening to the many precautions her father had taken against the presumable rascality of any man who might aspire to her hand, and to the minor clause that made the property ab- solutely her own to dispose of by will, should she die unmarried ; much enjoying the dis- comfitm^e of the ' hare,' as Mrs. Luker persisted in calling Sir Charles, when his name was not mentioned, except in con- nection with the miserable atom of entailed property — her thoughts were busily employed in wondering how soon she could get rid of them all, and be off somewhere, anywhere, she A71 edgeless Tool. 99 cared not where, so long as it was away from the Holt. At last they had all gone, even old Mrs. Standen, a withered, unhappy creature, who had been shabbily genteel for more years than she cared to recollect, and who cherished an undying hatred to Liza, because she neither responded to her advances to the 'dear young orphan,' nor accepted her in- vitation to spend if only one night beneath her lowly roof in Ball's Pond, Islington — that refuge for vulgarity and the folks who have seen better days. Yet when Liza sat down to her first dinner quite alone, with Andrew to wait, just as she had done for so many years with her father as her sole companion, a choking feeling came in her throat, and she could hardly swallow the food for a moment, as she mechanically raised her eyes, almost expecting to see the familiar face and hear the tone of the cynical, jibing voice, reading VOL. I. G 2 100 A Tangled Chain, out some especially unpleasing suggestive morsel from one of the many newspapers in which his soul delighted. And as a tear crept unbidden down her cheek, the first real tear of feeling or affection that she had shed, for the moment she saw there could be another side to the picture, and that life, after all, might have a dark aspect for her, as well as the utterly and brilliantly bright one that had been presented to her mentally during the last few days. Finishing her dinner, as if impatient of any suggestion of the kind, she rose quickly, and went into the drawing- room ; but she had scarcely settled herself in her deep arm-chair by the fire, with Brad- shaw and sundry guide books, determining to think of nothing but the future, when a ring came at the front door bell, and before she could wonder what the sound meant, Andrew had shown in a veiled figure, and had disappeared hurriedly — his disappearance An edgeless Tool. 101 hastened doubtless by the fact that he wished to see if Mrs. Pearson had really given him a sovereign to show her in at once on Miss Standen, or if the support he had found it necessary to take to keep him over the ' trying occasion ' of his master's funeral had obscured his vision, as it had done more than once before under similar circumstances. At first Liza stared in a dazed manner, thinking that Mrs. Standen had returned ; but as the veil was raised and disclosed a coun- tenance she had never, to her knowledge, seen before, wild ideas of lunatics and thieves coursed through her brain, and she was about to ring furiously at the bell, when the lady stepped forward and, in a quiet tone of voice, begged for a few moments' hearing. ' I am aware that I am intruding,' she said quietly ; ' but I heard you were leaving the Holt at once, and it was necessary that I should have an interview with you before you 102 A Tangled Chain. went. I am Mrs. Pearson, the wife of the doctor.' ' Indeed/ said Liza carelessly, and not asking her to take a seat, neither taking one herself; 'has not your bill been paid? I told my lawyer to see to it, for Dr. Pearson seriously displeased me by the manner in which he had held his tongue about Sir Marmaduke's complaint, and I ordered him out of the house in consequence. You had better write to him, Mrs. Pearson, I leave all matters of business to him.' ' It is not about that at all that I am here,' said Mrs. Pearson ; ' I am aware that you were angry with my husband, but I do not care for that in the very least, for you will alter your opinion of him when I tell you all I know. May I sit down. Miss Standen ? it is a long walk from the village, and I am weak.' ' Sit, if you like,' said Liza proudly ; ' but then, in that case, I must beg you to excuse All edgeless Tool. 103 me. You forget my father was only bmied to-clay and I am in no mood, I can tell you, to entertain strangers.' 'And yet you are planning all sorts of pleasures,' exclaimed Mrs. Pearson, pointing to the books on the table. ' I am sorry to intrude on your grief, but necessity knows no law, and it is necessary you should listen to me. No ; you must not and shall not leave me,' she added, as Liza attempted to pass her and get to the door. ' I know how your father died, and I mean you to pay me heavily to keep your secret.' ' Oh, you are mad ! ' answered Liza, starting back as she seemed to realise that she was alone with a lunatic quite mad. ' Of course you know how papa died from your husband — and as to my secret, I haven't one in the world. You had better go home, Mrs. Pear- son, much better ; your husband will be getting anxious about you,' 104 A Tangled Chain. * He knows why I have come,' repKed Mrs. Pearson. ' See, I am not mad ; my hand is as steady as yours. Your father died of poison, Miss Standen ; of prussic acid not heart disease, and I have proofs of this. I have them here,' and she touched the breast of her gown hghtly with her hand. Liza now felt fully convinced that she had to deal with a maniac, and concentrated all her attention on getting near the bell, but Mrs. Pearson saw her intention and frustrated it. * Even if you did ring the bell, it would be no use,' she said ; ' I have the key of the door in my pocket and you can't get out. It is my firm opinion that you, Lizette Standen, deliberately poisoned your father, and unless you pay me handsomely for silence, I shall exhibit my proofs and tell my story to the world.' Casting her eye round the room, Liza saw An edgeless Tool, 105 no prospect of escape, and thought perhaps it might be as well to humour her. 'Indeed/ she said lightly, *I am very much obliged to you for such a piece of intelligence, but I fear you will not get the world to share your belief, unless your proofs are very strong indeed ; may I ask what they are ? ' Mrs. Pearson looked at Liza for a moment. She was much slighter than Mrs. Pearson, and looked weak and fragile ; she thought she would risk any chance of a sudden snatch, and with the air of a melodramatic princess, she produced the small bottle and medicine glass, and held them up before her. Liza advanced cautiously and looked at them : ' But that is the stuff Dr. Pearson sent papa always, and his own glass out of the medicine chest,' she exclaimed in a puzzled tone of voice. * Exactly so, but so heavily charged with poison, that the smell is well-nigh strong 106 A Tangled Chain. enough to kill one,' said Mrs. Pearson. Some hand sent Sir Marmaduke to his death, and that hand was yours. You are the only person who would profit by his murder; you, therefore, are the only creature who can be guilty.' Here Liza sank down into her chair and literally laughed aloud. 'My dear good woman,' she said in a few moments, * you must really take me for a lunatic too. Even supposing I put the poison in there — Where is your proof ? Where did I buy the stuff ? When did I do it ? Now, it strikes me that, if I liked, I could make it unpleasant for you. Dr. Pearson has given a false certificate. Suspecting poison, he certifies to heart disease, thinking to black-mail me after the funeral; beside which, report declares that the doctor is not always sober. Heavens ! I see it all now,' she added excitedly; 'Dr. Pearson gave him poison by mistake; I An eclgeless Tool. 107 shall give orders at once to have the body exhumed, and all this shall be told in court' — and Liza, taking advantage of Mrs. Pearson's surprise, seized the bottle and flung it straight down on the open hearth, where it lay shattered in a thousand pieces, while the faint sickly smell of oil of almonds seemed to pervade the atmosphere. For a few moments the wretched woman stood looking at Liza Standen, and then sinking on the floor she burst into a torrent of tears. 'You must feel rather like what's -his - name in the '' Arabian Nights," the man who kicked over his basket of glass, I mean,' said Liza cruelly, as she stood looking down on Mrs. Pearson's quivering form. ' I have not the least doubt that you and the dear doctor have been building all sorts of castles in the air, and that my supposed sin was to be the foundation for the future. 108 A Tangled Chain, You are a clumsy creature, Mrs. Pearson, and will never make a good detective. Had I been in your place I should have come before the funeral, and I would have dis- covered where the prussic acid was bought and by whom ; then you might have emanci- pated yourself from Bridgeporth and the doctor from the fascinations of the "Black Bear"; as it is, I fear me you will have to remain here until you can find some- one foolish enough to buy the practice from you. What a pity it is you were in such a hurry to pounce on me, wasn't it ? ' Liza's words stung Mrs. Pearson into quiescence, the tears stopped, and rising to her feet she said : ' I beheve you did it ; nothing shall prevent me from believing you did it.' ' Believe what you like,' said Liza, yawning and looking at the clock; 'as for me, I recol- lect what drunken dispensers have done An edgeless Tool. 109 before now, and if I hear a word about this nonsense I shall have Sir Marmaduke's body exhumed; as it is, I really think I ought to do it ; I should, were I not so anxious to get away, besides which, I don't want to ruin you both; although you do think me a parricide, Mrs. Pearson; you see I can have mercy. I think it would be awkward for you if this night's work came out.' Mrs. Pearson said nothing, and hung her head, and as Liza held out her hand for the drawing-room door key she put it into it sullenly, and was about to turn away when, as if struck by a sudden idea, Liza said : ' By the way, are you so very anxious to leave Bridgeporth ? ' Mrs. Pearson flushed, then she bowed an assent. ' I'll remember that too,' said Liza. * I suppose you'd be grateful to me if I helped 110 A Tangled Chain, you out of the place ? I may want a doctor's help — I'll let you know when I have seen my mother. Dr. Pearson might, perhaps, be wilhng to look after her for me in London, as I find I cannot have her with me. But mind,' she added, holding up a warning finger, ' I only do this, or rather should do this, because I feel for you; you must be quite as sick of Bridgeporth as even I am, or you could hardly have been so foolish as to come to me on such an errand ; and I have suffered so myself here, that I can feel for you and your disappointment. I have no doubt you were keeping at least a carriage and pair mentally. It is so gallmg to lose all this at one blow — you should have been a little cleverer, Mrs. Pearson. However, I see you are sorry, so I will say no more. Good-night ! If I find I require help you shall hear from me' — and so saying, and seeing her to the door, Liza Standen nodded An edgeless Tool. Ill a careless farewell, and then returned to her own room and her guide book. *I didn't think anything would come of it/ said Dr. Pearson, as he met his wife on the door-step, where she impatiently poured out the story of her ill-success ; * the fact is, Sir Marmaduke poisoned himself. I've just been told by that old fool in the chemist's shop at Bodmin, that Sir Marmaduke was always buying poisons of him. Such a gentleman, of course he could not refuse him. So that mare's nest is done for. Now it will be Bridgeporth to the end of our natural lives, I suppose — no wonder a fellow is driven to drink in a hole like this.' And he banged the front door angrily, as he locked it for the night. ' She gave me a hint that you might be wanted to look after the mother in town,' said Mrs. Pearson. ' You may say and think what you like, but she did it.' And as her 112 A Tangled Chain, husband laughed and said something about obstinacy and a woman, she shrugged her shoulders and retired to bed, to brood over her wrongs, and to form an elaborate scheme of vengeance that this time should be suc- cessful, though it must be confessed that her ideas were of the very vaguest descrip- tion, and were soon utterly and entirely lost in the land of dreams. CHAPTEE IV. GOOD-BYE TO BKIDGEPORTH. Liza Standen was not able to leave home quite as soon as she had hoped. The mere busmess details of house-letting and invest- ments kept her stationary, and deprived of Laura's company ; as she had been by Mrs. Buckworth's decree ; she had to look out for someone else to take the place of confidant and friend, left vacant by Laura's unwilling desertion of her. Mr. Buckworth had in vain tried to induce his wife to allow Laura to stay for at least six months with the heiress, quoting texts innumerable to support his comfortable theory, that any girl brought up VOL. I. H 114 A Tangled Chain. as Laura had been, must of necessity be able to hold her own, and save Liza's soul, rather than imperil her own. But Mrs. Buckworth was inflexible in her determination. Neither Laura's tears and prayers nor her husband's comfortable precepts serving to move her an inch from her determination, although she could not help feeling for Laura, and regretting that, as far as she herself was con- cerned, Liza would not speak to her, and turned her back on her contemptuously whenever she met her in the narrow streets of the little sea-side village. An advertise- ment, naturally enough, brought Liza dozens of answers from ladies of all ages and con- ditions; but of these she only selected three as worthy of consideration, and in her usual slap-dash manner, after a very little corre- spondence, and the sight of the three photographs, she chose a Mrs. Yerney, whose face and figure were sufficiently Good-hye to Bridgeporth, 115 pleasing without being strikingly attractive, and whose widowed state presupposed a certain amount of knowledge of the world and of men; while the name of Verney suggested decent belongings and good con- nections, a suggestion more than confirmed by the excellent testimonials forwarded for Liza's inspection, and the nice paper and pretty handwriting that had first of all attracted her to the writer, and caused her to select Mrs. Verney, as one of the three favoured individuals from among the crowd of folk who replied to the very tempting advertisement Liza had caused to be inserted in the Guardian and The Times. A student of human nature could hardly have helped being entertained, had he or she read the letters from the rejected ladies y for there were certainly replies from all sorts and conditions of women, all of whom declared they were dying to be either a mother or a VOL. I. H 2 116 A Tangled Chain, sister, according to age, to their dear young friend. One even offered to leave a highly intellectual post she was filling as nursery governess to six riotous boys ; while another — remarking pathetically that her lamp of life was burning low and that she longed for the repose of a congenial home wherein to die — proposed to take an early train to Bridge - porth, with an eye, doubtless, to finishing her career under the sheltering roof of the Holt ; and so alarmed Liza by the determined attitude she took m her letter, that Liza telegraphed to her wildly to do nothing of the sort, for she had engaged a companion, whose intentions were to live and not die, and that long before the telegram reached her, she and Mrs. Verney would be en route for London, where she meant to plunge wildly into a round of theatres and concerts ; which would require the services of someone with a robust constitution, the lamp of which Good-bye to Bridgeporth. 117 was warranted not even to flicker. One good soul did come down on approval, tramping the long, weary miles between Bodmin and Bridgeportli, and presenting herself a draggled specimen of hmnanity to Liza's astonished eyes; and, much to her rage, she had to feed her and entertain her for one night, as no one could turn a dog from their doors in Bridge- portli on an October evening, when the air was full of mist, and the wind came roaring over the sea; and next morning she had literally to send her away, weeping profusely, and had to refuse to listen to her eloquent pleadings of poverty and distress ; hardening her heart against her stoically ; for, as she rightly observed, not even a Croesus could have done anything for the crowd of women — all pre- sumably educated — all most certainly in need of work, who presented themselves by letter to her for her favourable consideration. Contemplating the numerous candidates for 118 A Tangled Chain, her situation, Liza conld not help being thank- ful to someone, anyone, chance, or good fortune — call it what you will — that had placed her above such sordid ideas as where to get one's dinner or how to clothe oneself ; and yet, as she looked round her charming drawing- room, and remembered the bright, beautiful existence before her that was to compensate for so much, she could not resist wondering at the curious inequalities in life ; and being more than ever convinced that there was no one to whom she would have to account for her doings and sayings, and that, therefore, she was free as air to enjoy herself as much as ever she could. At last ! at last the day of departure was finally fixed. In another week she and Mrs. Verney would have left the Holt in the hands of strangers, and would resort to 1,001, Eaton Square, S.W., where the Honourable Juliette and the Honourable Hyacinth Farrar Good-bye to Bridge^ortli. 119 were expecting their dear young friend to sjDend a quiet winter with her companion, before launching her on the troubled sea of society. And as she sat in the drawing-room listening for the wheels of the carriage that had been sent to Bodmin to fetch Mrs. Verney, Liza was pondering over her future and resolutely determining to remain herself and her own mistress whatever her surroundings might be, and however orthodox and excellent were the people among whom she might be thrown. But her thoughts were soon brought to a close, for, as the clock chimed seven, the carriage was heard coming up the drive, and Liza opened the door of the drawing-room and came out into the hall in time to meet her new companion, about whom she could not help feeling curious, the while she com- passionated a stranger who must be eager to please for fear of losing her portion of daily bread. Still, as the tall, veiled figure came up 120 A Tangled Chain, the steps and threw back the crape that covered her face, Liza reahzed that she had to do with no common, cringing companion, 'but that a lady, equal to herself in • all ssave money, was come to take up her place be^ neath her roof, and holding out her hand, she greeted her warmly, far more warmly than she had intended to do when she rose from her seat. ' You must be very tired,' she said, as her maid came forward and relieved Mrs. Yerney of her heavy widow's cloak and bonnet. 'It is a dreadful drive from Bodmin here, and I was selfish to bring you such a terribly long journey only for a week ; but I thought we should become better acquainted were we alone for awhile together, besides which, as I explained in my letter, I think I have a visit to pay that I could not make alone, and I am literally dying to have some one to talk to, this place is so empty ; if I re- Good-bye to Bridgeporth. 121 mained here much longer I should forget how to speak.' 'I quite understand,' said Mrs. Yerney, in a calm sweet voice, smoothing the bands of her luxuriant dark hair with her hands and looking at Liza with great blue eyes ; ' quite. Now, if I may go upstairs to my room for a few moments first, I shall be ready to talk to you and hear you talk as much as you like, for I am never tired and am extremely, vul- garly strong, two excellent things, by the way, when one has to earn one's bread ; but at present I am one mass of dust and dirt, and I suppose dinner will be ready directly ' ? and hardly waiting for Liza permission, she motioned to the maid to precede her, and almost before Miss Standen had recovered from her surprise, she was back again, in a long soft black silk, with quantities of tulle about her throat, gathered and held together by a diamond pin, the size and glitter of which 122 A Tangled Chain, cansed a great deal of talk down stairs, to say nothing of a considerable amount of sur- prise to Liza herself, whose high black serge and common frilling, carelessly adjusted by a country girl's heavy hand, looked worse than ever when contrasted with her companion's perfect costume. ' Now let us talk confidentially,' said Mrs. Verney, when, dmner over, she and Liza were seated in the drawing-room. 'I see you are no ordinary girl. Miss Standen, and so I am going to break the ice at once. Were you the usual motherless and fatherless maiden, I should be the orthodox, submissive companion ; but as I have discovered you are not, I think it best to be quite frank with you and tell you all I have found out already. In the first place, you must have a maid.' ' But I have one at present,' said Liza, laugh- ing despite herself at Mrs. Verney' s curious assumption of the position of mentor ; ' an Good-hye to Bridgeporth, 123 excellent girl, character and all complete from her last place.' *Her last place,' exclaimed Mrs. Yerney, impulsively; ' was that in a curate's kitchen, or the parlour of some farmhouse? does she know her Paris, or read the fashion books ? No, of course not ; if that were the maid who helped me, the sooner you have some one else the better.' * But why ? ' persisted Liza, not quite sure whether she ought not to resent Mrs. Verney's impudence. ' Why, because I want to be proud of your success in the world, and to hear of your conquests,' replied the companion brightly; * and neither will be my portion if you persist in retaining Sarah, the name is enough. Oh^ how I wish I had kept Audrey's address when I had it, she would have been delighted to be near me again, and her style would have just suited you ; yet I wanted to forget 124 A Tangled Chain. all my former life, and let her go with the rest. Ah!' she added, as she saw Liza's eyes travel from the brooch at her throat to sundry flashing rings on her hand, ' you mean I have not parted with quite all. Well, no; these, and some few other things were saved from the wreck; but they would have had to go, had not I seen your advertisement and answered it. I literally did not know what to do; I could not teach; I should murder any child I was shut up with for twelve hours, I am sure of that; and I could think of nothing. Then my eye caught your little paragraph. Shall I ever forget the tortures I endured before I received your reply ? No, never ! I am now only too anxious to please you, but at the same time I am sure you will think better of me if I tell you at once what to expect from me.' ' I thought it was to be I myself that Good-bye to Bridge^ortli. 125 should tell you what I expected from you/ said Liza with dignity. * So it would be were you, as I said before, the orthodox British Miss,' answered Mrs. Verney , nothing daunted by her manner ; ' but you are not ; and so I turn the tables. You tell me you are going to the Farrars for the winter. Why did you not arrange to winter abroad ? ' ' Oh, for a thousand reasons. First of all I want to know my fellow-creatures, then I want to see London thoroughly. I intend to be near my mother,' said Liza; ' but I must, above all, get acquainted with people. Do you know, Mrs. Verney, that I am twenty-two, and have never in all my life spoken to a man, or, indeed, for the matter of that, to a woman either; it is time I began, I think.' * You must not go to the Farrars until you have some clothes,' said Mrs. Verney critically. 126 A Tangled Chain. ' Why not run over to Paris for a week first ? I know all the best places to go to, and we might pick up a maid there/ ' No, my plans are made,' said Liza firmly; * my clothes are eccentric, but people sell clothes in London, I presume.' * Well, yes, they do now,' said Mrs. Verney, ' and you can soon be properly supplied. May I ask if you are related to the Farrars, Miss Standen ? ' ' I don't think I have any relations in the world, except my mother, in Dr. Spencer's asylum at Dreewood,' replied Liza; ^ and Sir Charles Standen, he's horrid, horrid. Oh, I quite forgot him, when I said I had never spoken to a man — if you can call him one, that is to say.' * I suppose he wants to marry you ? ' said Mrs. Verney. ' No, indeed he doesn't ; he's engaged to some young person at Islington,' said Liza Good-bye to Bridgeporth. 127 lightly ; ' his mother wants him to throw her over and make up to me, because of the property, you know ; but I think she gave up that notion before she left, for she said she would pray for my conversion ; and sundry other polite speeches of the kind, signifying that I was hopeless, fell from her lips. He's my cousin too, and with insanity in the family one is bound to be doubly careful. But why did you ask me if the Farrars were relations ? ' * Oh, because they are well known in London, and I wondered how you had become acquainted with them sufficiently to be received under their roof,' answered Mrs. Verney quietly. ' They are of the orthodox most orthodox; poorer than Job, and quite as patient ; and so afraid of appearing poor, that they live in misery in Eaton Square, rather than in comfort in some pretty country place, where they would be the delight of a village ; 128 A Tangled Chain. and how they have consented to take in lodgers, I for one, can't imagine.' * We were introduced, with great mystery, through the lawyer, who happened to be brother to the rector's wife here,' said Liza ; ' by the way, our introduction, of course, was only by letter. I am supposed to be a young friend of his, left alone in the world, and the word money is never to pass my lips. Mr. John Stansfield receives the cheque paid quarterly in advance. Oh ! I can't tell you half the arrangements that have been made. I fancied they were eccentric ; but, then, so am I. All I want is to be given a start in life, then I can manage for myself. I daresay I may marry, though at present I most certainly don't feel inclined that way.' ' I think you said you would not requu*e me to go out at night with you ? ' asked Mrs. Yerney. ' You see, if I had to, it would make so much difference in my expenses, Goocl-hjje to Bridgeporth. 129 besides which, strong as I am, I never could bear late hours/ ' The Farrars are to do all that,' replied Liza. ' I want a companion who is bound in some measure to be my soujfre-cloiileur, my whipping-boy; in fact, my confidant, if the I'arrars are too much for me. I want someone with whom I can laugh at them, or gird at them ; who will rush about from picture gallery to concert, and from theatre to opera comique; who will, in short, be a second self, and be as ready as I am to enjoy life, and who will never be shocked, or too prim to be amusing and amused ; and I think,' added she, looking up at Mrs. Verney critically, ' that most likely I have found this long-suffering individual in you. I can't imagine you a broken-hearted widow, and you are young enough, I am sure, to be a very jolly friend to me.* ' I wonder how much you can bear with- VOL. I. I 130 A Tangled Chain. out being shocked ? ' said Mrs. Verney, returning Liza's gaze and then looking down at her rings. ' I never could endure mysteries, and I shall breathe more freely if you really know who I am.' ^ Are you a princess in disguise ? ' asked Liza lightly. ' Now, Mrs. Verney, out with it. I promise you not be shocked. I can't imagine what could shock me after all I have read,' and she pointed to the ' Newgate Calendars,' as Mrs. Buckworth had christened the big scrap books. Mrs. Verney turned over the pages care- lessly, as if to obtain some idea of the contents, and then she said, ' Have you the account of '' Vivers versus Vivers and Dugar- ron," I wonder ? ' * Yes, in the fat green book on the right,' said Liza; Uhat's improving reading, if you like.' * Just so,' said Mrs. Verney, reaching the Good-hye to Bridgeporth. 131 book and finding the page with the cutting on, ^ if you have forgotten it, read it again, it will save me a long and tedious story.' ' Were you Yivers ? ' said Liza, a new light breaking in upon her. * The Countess of Yivers, ain't please your ladyship,' said Mrs. Verney flippantly, * and now Mrs. Dugarron. There is no one so fit as I to guide the feet of youth, for there is not a quicksand or a shoal I don't know of — no pit of darkness I have not fathomed to its lowest depth. Now, Miss Standen, you know the worst ; am I to pack up my boxes, and make room for some other virtuous person ? ' * Oh dear me, no,' said Liza, still looking at the book before her ; ^ yet how could you be so foolish, Mrs. Verney? once a countess always a countess, I should say; and Mr. Dugarron seems to have been only a curate.' * That's exactly it. No one would ever beheve me if I said I really meant to do well,' VOL. I. . I 2 132 A Tangled Chain, replied Mrs. Verney sadly; 'but I really did. Lord Vivers was emphatically a beast ; yes, it is very strong language, I know, but no other word would suit him. I was married to him, an innocent child at nineteen, and he was thirty; there wasn't an evil thought in my head on my wedding day, and I adored him. All ! Miss Standen, I can't tell anyone what I endured with him ; he scoffed at all I had been taught to hold sacred, he flaunted his sins before me, and laughed at my love. Then I met Ernest Dugarron — he was all that I had believed Bertram to be ; at last I fled with liim. Bertram was delighted — he wanted an heir, I had no children — the divorce was easily obtained, and then we were married. I was with his married sister until the cere- mony could be performed, but the world sneered and would not believe this — they hunted us down — ' ' so shocking, a clergyman, you know "; aaid the same people who received Lord Vivers Good-hye to Bridgeporth. 133 with open arms, united to torture us, until tliey killed Ernest and nearly drove me mad. I am just six -and -twenty now, and have ended my life. It seems a little hard on me, does it not ? yet now I daresay you'll throw me over — but I couldn't help telling you, some- how.' ^ Throw you over! not I,' said Liza affec- tionately, pressing the hand Mrs. Yerney held out to her; ^not I. I can only wonder at your calmness, now I know what you have gone through.' * I shall do you no harm in society either,' said Mrs. Verney, after a moment's pause. * Society soon forgets even its chosen friends ; the divorce story is four years old ; Lord Vivers is the happy father of twm boys, and I shall not mix in his set ; the Farrars would die rather than meet him, I am sure of that -^I think you may keep me. Miss Standen.' ' I cannot imagine how you can smile even, 134 A Tangled Chairi. after living through such a tragedy,' said Liza, looking from the book to Mrs. Verney, and from Mrs. Yerney to the book. ' I should have thought you must have loved Mr. Du- garron, anyhow.' ' All love, all feeling has been battered out of me,' answered Mrs. Verney ; ' and beside that, I never think for a moment of all I have gone through; I — I wonder which is I myself,' she added dreamily. ' I seem to have been a dozen different people since I stood at the altar with Lord Vivers; and yet I am the same creature as regards flesh and blood, I suppose. Oh! how much I respected pmity ! how much I meant to do! how I looked up to my hero — my husband ! and yet, in less than two years, I stood alone on the brink of a precipice, the depth and darkness of which were not half as appalling to me as the degradation and misery my adored lover had caused me. The worst thing that one Good-bye to Bridgej^orth. 135 endures in life, I think, is this disillusionment. I would rather die this moment than believe in anyone's perfection again. We are very like kittens. Miss Standen; we are born blind, and only open our eyes to be astonished at the wickedness around us when too late; we'd better far be drowned in our youth, before we realize what men are and what the world is/ 'You are as bad as Sir Marmaduke,' said Liza ; ' you are talking exactly like him. He seemed sorry for nothing, and cared for nothing except his dinner ; yet he had a cause, his love was never returned ; now you, at least, had two real lovers.' ' The first need not be counted,' replied Mrs. Verney, 'and as for the second, my poor Ernest never really got over the divorce case. He never respected me for one moment after I ran away with him. Like a man, he did not appreciate a gift that seemed all the world 136 A Tangled Chain, to him before he possessed it. There's one thing certain in hfe, Miss Standen — it never for one moment pays to do wrong; that is to say, to do anything that sins against the world's particular fads and fancies. I should have been rich and honoured if I had clung to Bertram and endured his wickednesses ; but once I had chosen Ernest, and honestly tried to do my duty as the wife of a clergy- man, the hounds were let loose, and he was not able to bear it, and died leaving me almost penniless. My father shut his door in my face — he could not have his other daughters contaminated by me; and here I am, unattached, unfriended, well up in the ways of society, and ready to be very useful to you, if only you will let me.' 'We shall be a curious couple,' said Liza smiling ; ' it is a ]3ity Mrs. Buckworth could not have heard you, she would then, perhaps, have thought I was not the only person in Good-bye to Bridgeporth. 137 the world who was a Httle out of the ordinary run of human bemgs. I begm to envy those <5olourless, easy-going rehgious folk. It seems to me they are, after all, the only people who really enjoy life.' * You will enjoy life well enough, for you cannot expect too much from it,' said Mrs. Yerney easily; 'it's the blind kittens that suffer, not those whose eyes are open — and yours are, I am sure of that. Now all we have to do is to see we get the most^out of it for our money, or, rather, for your money. When do we leave the Holt, Miss Standen ? Is 'it worth my while to unpack ?' * We go on this day week, and spend one night at Dreeton ; that is the station for Dreewood, you know. Dr. Spencer kindly offered to put us up for the night, but I really could not have slept under the same roof with a lot of lunatics; they are about the only things I am really and truly afraid 138 A Tangled Chain. of/ replied Liza, closing the large book and putting it back on the table. ' And yet I think you said you had some idea of taking your mother away from Dree wood ? ' asked Mrs. Verney. ' Only if I find she is, as I suspect, sane,' replied Liza, yawning a little. ' Come, Mrs. Yerney, let us go to bed; we shall have a whole week before us in which to talk matters over ; now it is late, and you must be tired too. Why Yerney, by-the-way ? ' added she, as she took up her candlestick ; ' why not Dugarron ? ' * Because Yerney is my second name, and not quite as well known as Dugarron,' replied Mrs. Yerney quietly. ' The name is an uncommon one, you see, and might be remembered. Now Yerney is a really good name, and it always amuses me so when people say to me — " Not one of the Yerneys of Gloucestershire, I suppose ? " for it is pure Good-hye to Bridgejjorth, 139 joy to me to answer — " Yes, I am, my mother was a Miss Verney." You see, no one can believe that a woman who has to earn her bread can be of respectable parentage; and then I go on to add, that my husband was a distant cousin, and also a Verney, which so astonishes them, that one or two ladies I interviewed before I heard from you almost fainted ; in fact, had I not absolutely refused to teach children, I could have had two or three situations ; but I can't bear children, and the one thing I am grateful to Providence for is, that I never had any of my own; though, perhaps, if I had, Bertram would have been different to what he was. How- ever, it is no use repining, let us go to bed ; sleep, at all events, is true happiness — one is warm, comfortable, and forgets one is alive — all excellent things in their way.' ' Unless you dream,' said Liza, as she walked upstairs, and stood at her door for a 140 A Tangled Chain, moment, before finally bidding her com- panion good-night ; ' or lie dozing half the night, neither one thing nor another. Ghosts come then, Mrs. Verney, and I should say you must have your share.' ' I never encourage such unpleasant visitors,' replied her companion smiling; * neither must you ; that way madness lies. Good-night, Miss Standen ; if ghosts trouble you, come in to me. I promise you that between us they shall vanish for evermore in future. I am longing for daylight, to see what country we are surrounded by. It is always so amusing to speculate on the dark expanse that lies around us when we get to a fresh place at night, which suggests — but there, I will stop talking, or else the night will never end,' and once more bidding Liza good-night, Mrs. Verney retired to her room, where, despite her boast that she and regret had nothing in common, she lay until day- Good-hye to Bridgeporth. 141 break, battling with a thousand fears, hopes, and desires, when she fell into a heavy sleep, only waking when her room was flooded by the full light of an October mid-day. *As the days went by, Liza and Mrs^ Verney became almost inseparable, for Liza had never before in all her life had a real friend. Laura Buckworth was too meek, too submissive, too anxious to please, to be really anything more than someone to speak to,, which, of course, was a consideration in Liza's loneliness ; but had not a spice of romance been given to the acquaintanceship by the fact that no one knew of it, and that it went on in direct disobedience to Sir Mar- maduke's strictest orders, it is mdeed doubt- ful if it would have survived even as long as it did. Now it was all over, and Liza Standen had not one regret for its demise. Laura had been often shocked at the low 142 A Tangled Chain. estimate of human nature possessed by her dear friend. She had at times timidly spoken of matters appertaining to rehgion, she had even mildly remonstrated at one or two of Liza's most outrageous sentiments ; but the while she did so, she evinced so much des- pair should Liza be vexed, and retreated so quickly from her standpoint should her friend turn round on her, and, in emphatic language, dub her a fool; that while she bored Liza by her platitudes, she yet caused herself to be heartily despised as well, by the mean manner in which she deserted her colours the moment she saw they were obnoxious to her companion and friend. Mrs. Buckworth's deliberate refusal to allow Laura to obtain temporal advantages at the risk of losing her soul for ever, had aroused for a while doubts in Liza's breast lest, after all, the entire world of human beings should be as reckless, time-serving, and Good-hye to Bridgeporth. 143 grasping as she had been taught it was. It was so curious that any woman should refuse her daughter a chance of ' bettering herself/ as the servants say, because morals and religion were not thrown into the bargain, that Liza had began to think that there might, perchance, be two sides to the question, and that some good creatures did exist who really acted from principle and not altogether from motives of gain. Yet when she became acquainted with Mrs. Yerney, and recognised how much live- lier and pleasanter her life would be now she had someone near her who * knew all the ropes,' and could lead her triumphantly down the primrose path of pleasure, she forgot all her ideas on the subject of Mrs. Buckworth's virtues, and could only be thankful that she was not leaving home hampered by a girl, who knew no more of the world than she her- self did, and who would have come possessed of a conscience, an invincible attachment to 144 A Tangled Chain. the English church as by law established, and certain old-fashioned notions of hearen and hell, that, of course, could soon have been eradicated, but that would have been fear- fully troublesome as long as they lasted. Standing in her room, and looking at her- self in the glass for the last time, in which she had seen her face reflected ever since she could remember, Liza Standen could not help congratulating herself at the prospect before her. She could recollect days when she had glanced at her reflection and, with tears in her eyes, wondered if she, like the violet, was for ever to blush unseen by all save her father and the old servants. She thought of how, as days went by and she had drifted along from eighteen to her present age of two- and-twenty, she had gazed anxiously, fearing to see some traces of the passage of time, and how she had grudged every hour that kept her down in Cornwall while her youth was Good-hje to Bridgejporth, 145 fleeting past; and she remembered, too, thoughts that had brought a shade of diabo- hcal passion across her countenance, which almost frightened her with its wickedness when she had caught sight of it in the glass before her. Her life had been hard, and dreary, and dreadful ; now it was all over, and she was leaving her home for ever without one single regret. Life owed her long arrears of plea- sure; she would demand them; she would take all she wanted ; neither conscience — stifled in its birth — nor problematic religion — studied only to be scoffed at — hampered her, and, as she turned away, taking with her on her journey the remembrance of her beautiful face looking out at her from the crape bon- net that seemed to act only as a foil to her health and loveliness, she repeated again to herself that she had not one single arriere- jpensee, not one regret that should hinder her VOL. I. K 146 A Tangled Chain. from draining the cup of pleasure that was now within her grasp. No ; not one ! although her glance fell on the grave where Sir Marmaduke lay in sure and certain hope of a blessed resurrection, and her last sight of Bridgeporth included Laura's white tear-stained face pressed against the rectory window, as the Holt car- riage drove by on its journey towards Bodmin. CHAPTEE Y. LADY STANDEN AT HOME. For the first time in her hfe, Liza was conscious of her nerves when she drove up to the door of Dreewood, and recognised that behind that grim and sombre looking portal lived the woman to whom she owed her own being, yet of whose existence, until the other day, she had been profoundly ignorant. Even Mrs. Yerney, who was not given to sentiment as a rule, could not help feeling sorry for the girl as she noticed her pale face, and heard her laugh nervously, and endeavour to chatter in her usual manner ; but she was wise enough to hold her tongue, the while VOL. I. K 2 148 A Tangled Chain. she watched carefully, lest at the last moment she should break down entirely, and have to confess herself beaten at last. The whole journey from Bodmm to Dreeton had m itself been a revelation to Liza. She had eagerly noted the manner and appearance of her fellow-travellers, and had listened to the commonplace talk with amusement and contempt; not recognising that common- placeness was, after all, all one could expect from casual acquaintances ; and while holding her tongue herself, she resolved that it would not be difficult for her to astonish a world that seemed made up of people who were indeed ordinary, and none of whom, evidently, possessed any story at all. Still, Liza would not have been sorry to be as uninteresting as the most common- place person she had ever met, when she found herself following the doctor's neat, Lady Standen at Home. 149 sober man-servant along the warmed and carpeted passages of the asylum, the very atmosphere of which was suggestive of horrors, and appeared charged with mystery and despair. For she could not resist shrinking from the ordeal before her, and wishing most profoundly that she had nothing in common with the weird and fantastic creatures she caught sight of, as she hurriedly followed the butler on his way to the doctor's drawing-room ; for Dr. Spencer allowed his patients far more liberty than did most of his confreres^ and all safe cases were treated much as people are treated at a hydropathic establishment, or ordinary superior boarding-house. The drawing-room itself was at the end of the house, and was a great room, with wide windows opening to the lawn, and looking over a beautifully kept garden and shrubbery, gay with a thousand autumnal 150 A Tangled Chain. tints and flowers; and as Liza wandered to the window and looked out, she sighed deeply, recognising that for more than twenty years her mother's eyes had looked on no other scene than the one before her. As she stood gazing out, and watching fearfully one or two figures wandering aimlessly about the garden, the door opened and Dr. Spencer came quickly into the room. He was a tall, agile man of about fifty-five or so, with wonderfully piercing eyes and cool large hands, into which he took Liza's, the while he looked at her with an acute semi-professional gaze that embarrassed Liza curiously. She averted her eyes, and after replying to his con- ventional inquiries, introduced Mrs. Yerney, and then plunged headlong into the object of her visit, which, of course, had also been explained to the doctor by letters which had passed between them, and which Dr. Lady Standen at Home. 151 Spencer produced from his breast pocket and glanced at hastily, as if to confirm Liza's statements from her own correspond- ence, thereby adding much to her confusion and nervousness. At last Liza could stand it no longer. *I wish you'd burn those things,' she said ; ^ I can't think why, but I have such a dislike to seeing letters again that I have once written and sent away; and while you keep looking at them, Dr. Spencer, I don't seem able to take my eyes off them; you know, too, what I want — can I see my mother ? Then we can talk over what is best to be done for her.' ' You shall see her certainly, but not for a few minutes,' replied the doctor, placing Liza in a chair near the window, and once more regarding her fixedly. * Miss Standen, believe me, we are doing our very best for your mother, and were I in your place, I 152 A Tangled Chain. should not insist on seeing her. I remember in your letters you tell me you never heard of her existence until your father's death. Believe me, it would be far better were you not to see her at all. She will not know anything of your visit, and unless you are accustomed to hearing a certain amount of bad language, I should really advise you not to go near her; be content with a look through the glass of her door. I give you my word she is as happy here as ever she can be in this world.' *No one could be happy here,' said Liza in a low voice, and gazing apprehensively over her shoulder. 'I do not, of course, mean to be rude to you. Dr. Spencer, but I feel as if any moment something disagreeable must happen, and that someone dreadful will jump out at me and murder me. I hope you won't think me a fit inmate for your house,' she added, laughing nervously ; ' but I want Lady Sta7iden at Home. 153- to get away from it as quickly as I can. Still, I must see my mother first, and as to bad language, I don't think I shall mind that, if she uses it; I shall not think it is my mother, but some other creature that has possessed itself of her form — do you believe in demoniac possession, I wonder. Dr. Spencer ? ' * I can't tell what I do or what I do not believe on the subject of lunacy,' replied Dr. Spencer smiling. 'It is a mde field, and one you and I could hardly travel over now, more especially as you wish to get away from Dreewood as soon as you can. Still, I wish you would not persist in seeing Lady Standen. To tell you the truth, she is so like you ; of course without the calm ex- pression of a sane woman ; that I fear you will receive a shock. It will be like seeing your face in a bad glass — distorted, wretched, but yet the same countenance, for she still looks 154 A Tangled Chain. singularly young — she must have been a lovely girl.' ' Are you quite certain she is mad ? ' asked Liza, in a cold constrained voice. ' Dr. Spencer, there is something about you that compels me to speak the truth, and we need not mind Mrs. Verney, she knows all I know on the subject. Listen ! my father was not a good man ; he had curious notions ; he brought me up in a manner unlike any other father ever educated his daughter; he was selfish — oh, I know he has not been dead long,' she added, as she noticed Dr. Spencer's keen eyes fall on her black dress, ' and that is why, perhaps, I feel as strongly as I do on the subject ; but I have a fancy — ■ — ' * That Sir Marmaduke incarcerated his wife here with me because he was tired of her,' interrupted Dr. Spencer quietly. , ^ All ! you need not blush and turn away, Miss Standen ; any one who has ever had an insane relation Lady St an den at Home. 155 or friend has always had a whim that we doctors are hke the spider who Hves on the flies he entices into his den, for the purpose of sucking their hfe-blood. They forget we have any professional pride in curing our patients ; they can never remember that we could have others to fill the places left vacant by those discharged cured. We are doctors first, Miss Standen, and lunatic asylum keepers second. No, don't think I am offended,' he added, as Liza began a hasty apology ; ' I am not one bit, for I am too accustomed to such suspicions to take any heed of them. I only really and truly was thinking of you, when I advised you not to see your mother. Your curious, nervous dislike to my referring to your letters in your presence, and the way you are affected by the knowledge that this room is not an ordinary drawing-room, shows me that you are not quite as strong-minded a 156 A Tangled Chain. young lady as you believe yourself to be. Now, Mrs. Verney there is quite different. She is as cool and collected as if she were in the Queen's drawing-room at Buckingham Palace.' ' Eather more so, if possible,' said Mrs. Ver- ney brightly. ' I think I should be far more afraid of the Queen than any amount of possible lunatics here, at all events; but then, I am older than Miss Standen, and she, too, has hardly overcome the shock she sustained in her father's sudden death; still, Dr. Spencer, I think you would be wise to let her see Lady Standen. Liza has an idea fixed anent her mother's sanity that nothing save actual sight will remove. Faith even in a doctor has not been a part of Miss Standen's education.' *In that case I will say no more,' replied Dr. Spencer, touching the knob of the elec- tric bell at his side. ' Send Mr. Knighton Lachj Stancleoi at Home. 157 here,' he said, as the butler appeared instantly at the door ; then he added : ' my assis- tant will take you to her. She has developed a profound hatred to me, I am sorry to say, and though, of course, I watch her and attend to her just the same, I do not want to give Miss Standen a worse impression than I need ; only do let me beg of you not to insist on speaking to her, unless Mr. Knighton really advises it.' At that moment Mr. Knighton entered the room, and having been introduced to both ladies, proceeded to add his persuasions to his chiefs ; but, of course, the more he talked, the more certain Liza became that there was some reason over and above that which had been given to her ; and adhering still to her belief that her mother was a deeply injured woman, she declared that she was strong enough both in mind and body to sustain any amount of shocks. And so at last 158 A Tangled Chain, Dr. Spencer gave way, and motioned to Kobert Knighton to get the matter over as quickly as possible, remarking that tea and Mrs. Spencer would be waiting for them as soon as they had completed then* unplea- sant task. ' You had better go by the garden,' said the doctor, opening the window, ' then IVIiss Standen will not expect anyone to jump out at her ; for if you meet anyone there you will be sure they are quite harmless,' and so say- ing, he threw back the sash, and Mr. Knighton, Liza, and Mrs. Yerney went out into the chill October air, that was already begmning to feel like winter, and suggested frosts and the last days of the dying year. ' I shall be glad when the year is gone,' said Liza, in reply to some trite remark of Mr. Knighton's ; ' it has been such a horrid one, although it is the last of my captivity in Cornwall; and, ridiculous as such a feeling is, Lady Standen at Home. 159^ I cannot help believing that a new year is clean and white and recordless, and begins a fresh chapter of our existence, a feeling, by the way, these poor souls can never enjoy.' ' Oh ! yes, indeed they do,' replied Mr, Knighton ; ' they are not always in a state of raving madness or mental obscurity, and few of them are idiotic ; they watch the passing of the seasons, and make elaborate plans for celebrating Christmas and New Year at home. I should not be half so sorry for them as I am if they were always insane ; they would never suffer at all if they were, any more than we suffer when we chase shadows in our dreams at night. Some of the people we have here — nay, most — are only mad on one or two points, and if they could go about labelled "Don't speak to me of so-and-so," might be allowed to be free ; but we can't do that, you know, and the consequence is they are sent to us.' 160 A Tangled Chain, ' I don't see why they need be, even then,' said Mrs. Verney in her bright manner. ' I have one or two subjects I don't hke to be spoken to on — my age, for example, and the size of my hands and feet. Still yon would not shut me up if I can't be civil to people who intimate that I have been younger, and that they have known more fairy-like members than I possess; and yet I own to feeling murderous on such occasions.' * You know you are safe,' said Mr. Knighton, looking admiringly at the widow's tiny hands, that, encased in exquisitely fitting gloves, were held out for his inspection. 'No one is likely to tease you about those subjects, at any rate. Neither would you do anything but feel murderous, as you say, if you could find anyone to talk such nonsense. Now you see that fellow there ; who would say he was cracked ? As yet he has no topic to avoid save money, and do we mention that, he is Lady Standen at Home. 161 violent at once. Shall I illustrate what I mean ? ' and Mr. Knighton took a step for- ward, as if to greet a singularly handsome young man, who came towards them with a tastefully arranged group of flowers in his hand. ' No ! for heaven's sake ! ' said Liza, placmg a detaining hand on Mr. Knighton's sleeve ; * I should be terribly frightened. See, poor fellow ! he wants Mrs. Yerney to take the flowers,' and she pointed to the gentleman, who was presenting the flowers to Mrs. Verney, and speaking about them in the most ordinary tone of voice. ' Oh, Egerton,' said Mr. Knighton, * you are just the very fellow I wanted to see. Have you met Lady Standen out to-day ? This is her daughter, and we are anxious to find her if we can.' ' No ; her woman told me she had a cold,' replied Mr. Egerton quietly enough. * Your VOL. I. 162 A Tangled Chain, mother is the image of you, or rather, I should say, you are the image of your mother, Miss Standen,' he added, raising his hat and bowing in a profound manner, * and we called her the belle of Dreewood, too. We are fastidious here,' he added. ' Well, I won't detain you ; it is dreadfully chilly for October, and if you wish to see her ladyship, you had better be quick ; when she has a cold, she always goes to bed terribly early,' and so saying, Mr. Egerton walked off with his hands in his pockets, whistling a merry tune, as if he were some light-hearted schoolboy going home after his lessons were done. ' And yet sometimes he wants to kill us all to save the expense of keeping us alive,' said Mr. Knighton. "' His manners are brusque, but we get out of the way here of requiring introductions or taking formal leave of people we are sure of meeting fifty times a day; Lady Standen at Home, 163 otherwise no one could tell he was mad. Sometimes he sits for hours counting brass buttons and talking of millions, then we know a bad fit is coming, and we prepare for squalls; and then again he is charming — a delightful companion, and often helps me with the patients. He can manage Lady Standen when no one else can, because he resembles someone she thinks she loved years and years ago.' *We seem a long time getting to her,' said Liza, impatiently putting her hand to her forehead as if it ached. ' I want to end my suspense, Mr. Knighton. I do not think I can bear much more.' *We are close there,' said Mr. Knighton. 'Come, Miss Standen, be wise,' he added, pausing on the threshold of a green-baize door; 'let us go back to the doctor. You can't do any good by seeing her.' ' My mind is made up,' replied Liza firmly ; VOL. I. l2 164 A Tangled Chain. * no power on earth will move me/ Mr. Knighton shrugged his shoulders, and touched the electric bell at the door. "On your own head be it/ he said. 'I will wait for you here.' ' Are you not coming ? ' asked Liza, turn- ing a little white, and looking at Mrs. Verney apprehensively. ' Mrs. Morgan, the matron, will be there,' replied Mr. Knighton. I could do no good, and she will show you all that is necessary. Here is Mrs. Morgan. Oh, Mrs. Morgan,' he added, ' this is Miss Standen. The doctor has told you, I suppose, she wishes to see her mother ? ' Mrs. Morgan bowed an assent, and stood waiting for the two ladies to precede her ; and as Liza looked at the stern-faced woman, with her plain dress and neat apron and white sister's cap, she could not refrain exchanging a glance with her companion, that being inter- Lady Stcuiden at Home, 165 preted by the matron, brought a smile on her hps, and caused her to say hghtly : ' Oh, I assure you, I am not as bad as I look. Miss Standen ; you see we can't study the becoming in costume here. I think my ladies would be very angry if I presumed to dress as you do, for example.' Liza laughed. ' How keen all you people are,' she said; 'I shall be afraid to think even, until I get away from Dree wood, lest you should have some mysterious power of reading one's thoughts. Is my mother as ill as they say, Mrs. Morgan — I do wish I knew what was the truth.' ' The truth is, that you have no business to be here ; and I can't think how it is your relations and friends allowed you to come,' said Mrs. Morgan brusquely. ^ Probably because I have neither the one nor the other,' replied Liza ; ' I am an orphan and friendless ; at least, as much of an orphan 166 A Tangled Chain. as I can be with my mother ahve. Well, that speech of yom^s tells me you agree with the doctors ; therefore, please let me see my mother at once/ And Liza drew herself up to her full height, and began to walk with a stately step down the passage, which was exactly similar to the one leading to the doctor's rooms. Mrs. Morgan looked from her to Mrs. Yerney, and back again ; then shrugging her shoulders, she went forward and showed Miss Standen the way. At last she stopped before another baize door, the upper half of which was glazed and curtained. ' Once more,' she said, ' will you be advised, or will you act upon your own responsibility ? ' ' I have said,' replied Liza haughtily ; ' please do not let me waste any more time. Ah ! ' she added, with a long drawn sigh, as the matron drew aside the curtain, and allowed Liza to look into the room; * then that is my mother ? ' And holding Lady 8tanden at Hovie. 167 away the curtain, she stood looking into the room as if she were gazing on a picture. The room itself was charmingly and ele- gantly furnished, and well supplied with hooks, pictures, and plants — it might have been an ordinary boudoir in some good house, for there was nothing to show to outsiders that this was a room in a lunatic asylum. The floor was covered with beautiful Persian rugs, a parrot hung in a cage in one of the warm- est corners, and a lovely fluffy Chinchilla coloured cat was curled up on the lap of the lady who lay back on the purple-covered lounge-chair, shading her face from the rays of the fire with a large peacock feather fan, and looking so sadly at a photograph or picture she held in her hand, that Liza, unaccustomed as she was to shedding tears, could not prevent them from forming in her eyes, and falling slowly down her cheeks. Presently Lady Standen looked up as if she 168 A Tangled Chain. were praying; then Liza saw the likeness to herself — older, worn, middle-aged, of o.Qurse, as her mother undoubtedly was, she yet was so like her child that Liza shuddered, feeling she had seen what she herself would be when youth had gone, and she had nothing left but the dregs in the cup of pleasure she held untasted in her hand ; and feeling she could bear little more, she motioned to the matron to open the door, and followed her into the warm, scented atmosphere, the curiously perfumed odour of which she never forgot to her dying day. At first Lady Standen took no notice whatever of her visitors. Liza had drawn her veil over her face, and naturally Mrs. Yerney had one on too, and as the matron came up to her, stroked the cat, made up the fire, and moved one or two books, Lady Standen simply turned her head away pettishly, and neither spoke nor moved until Mrs. Morgan Lady Standen at Home. 169 pointedly mentioned that two ladies had asked to be allowed to call on her, suggesting that tea should be offered them, or some notice taken of them. ' They have come a long way,' she said, 'to see you, don't you think you might ask them how they are ? ' * You will persist in this farce, Morgan,' replied the patient, glancing at Mrs. Yerney and her daughter. ' You know, as well as I do, where I am, and what my powers are. How can I entertain ladies in a lunatic asylum, even if I wanted to ? But I know what you ladies are — people who ought to be here — not unfortunate wretches like myself, who are incarcerated by a revengeful and wicked husband. Could I help being so beautiful that all who saw me loved me ? Surely I did not deserve this fate ! ' and she burst into tears and sobbed frantically. Liza was on the point of rushing forward, and declaring that she would at once rescue- 170 A Tangled Cliain. her mother, when Mrs. Morgan's warnmg finger held up, restrained her for a moment. * These ladies are not mad,' she said gently ; * I know your dislike to the patients, and you are aware I never bring them to you now.' 'Oh! they all say they are not mad, that is one of the forms of the disease,' re]Dlied Lady Standen contemptuously ; ' however, I will try them once more; only, I warn you, Morgan, if they smash the tea-cups and scream like they did before, nothing shall prevent me from turning them into cats or parrots. I should like a variety,' she added plaintively; 'it's always cats or parrots; a dog now, or even a kitten, would be a relief; still it is something to have the power I have over my fellow-creatures — only death is stronger than I — and death has taken Sir Marmaduke at last. I wonder where they buried the wretched old sinner. Where's my work? Lady Standen at Hovie. Ill Give me my work ! Then let these ladies approach, though I must say it's a bore to have to talk to them, when I wanted peace and quiet' — and as Liza and Mrs. Verney came near she motioned them to chairs, and began talking in the most ordinary manner possible about the weather, the time of year^ and the emptiness of town. At last she said : ' I daresay you came here to see me out of curiosity ? Well ! what report shall you make — lunatic asylums are attracting a great deal of attention, I see from the papers, and I expect soon to be released. If you come from any of the newspaper offices, you might mention my case; it is a typical one— great beauty, jea- lous husband, old lover — you can fill in the details, the stronger the better; and if my name were printed, I daresay there are some living who will remember the lovely Miriam Atherton — Standen it is now. Ah ! those 172 A Tangled Chain. were times, those were times ! I wish you would take off your veils, ladies,' she added irritably; 'it's like being at a masked ball, and I don't suppose you are either of you so beautiful that you are afraid to be seen with- out them for fear of the men ; here, at all events, there is only one man worth capti- vating, and I have done that ; so off with the veils, then we can have tea.' Liza looked apprehensively at Mrs. Morgan, in whose discretion she had begun to believe, now she saw that there could be no doubt as to her mother's insanity ; so when the matron signed to her to do as Lady Standen desired, she took off her crape veil and turned her head aside, trusting that Mrs. Yerney's face might attract attention, and that, after all, her mother might be too mad to see the terrible likeness that appeared to Liza some- thing phenomenal, and to increase every mo- ment, until looking at her mother was, as the Lady Standen at Home. 173 doctor had remarked, like seeing herself in a glass that was warped and distorted. But she had no sooner removed the veil, than her mother rose to her feet with a loud cry, and putting out her hands, came towards her trembling. Liza rose too, and began to move away; as she did so. Lady Standen made a sudden dart towards her, and seized her by the arm. 'No,' she exclaimed ; ' you do not escape me again. How I have longed for this day — yearned for it, hoped for it; Morgan, don't you see, don't you understand — this is my lost youth, this my old self ? Are you not glad to see her again ? and yet they told me we had parted for ever,' and leaning gently forward, she kissed Liza between the eyes. Mrs. Morgan and Mrs. Yerney watched the poor woman carefully, and Liza, feeling doubtless that there were three to one, allowed her mother to continue holding her 174 A Tangled Chain. hands and babbling to her. In some mys- terious manner she beheved that she had in her presence herself as she had been years ago, and as she gradually drew Liza to the fire and sank down on the lounge with her daughter beside her, she continued talking, begging her, now she was her own again, to profit by the experience she had bought so dearly, and, above all, to avoid Sir Marma- duke Standen, and to have patience, because Laurence was not dead; that he was alive and would return to bless her, not to curse her, as he had done when he thought her faithless. ' Oh,' she said, trembling with delight, and clasping Liza's hands in a vice-like grasp ; ' I could go mad with joy, to think you are really mine again, with all your life before us, and my experience at your service. What a life we will have; your pages are all clean, all unwritten on; you Lady Stanclen at Home. 175 are at the beginning of volume one ; take care of the blots, no one can erase them once they stain the fair white sm-face ; no one can ever outlive a crime or a sin or a fault. Oh! we have much to think of; I have so much to tell you, so much advice to give you, I can't think how to begin/ And she laughed a long low unsteady laugh, and then impressed another burning kiss on Liza's forehead. * Can't we get rid of those women ? ' she asked presently, glancing in a suspicious way at Mrs. Morgan and Mrs. Yerney. * I want to be alone with you.' 'My dear lady, first let me get the tea/ said Mrs. Morgan coming forward, ' else we shall starve your visitors. They have come a long way, you know, and you should think of that.' Then, as Lady Standen rose once more, still holding Liza's hand, and moved away from the cupboard where 176 A Tangled Chain. the tea-things were kept, she whispered to Mrs. Yerney : ' Stay by the bell, ma'am, we shall want the doctor in a few moments, or else I am greatly mistaken ' ; and busying herself in preparing the table for the meal, she yet watched her patient carefully, as she continued to talk ceaselessly, never giving Liza time to open her mouth, even if she had been inclined to do so. Kesolutely believing that Liza was her younger self, she talked of nothing save her sufferings and the manner in which they could be avoided in the new life before her ; and gave her such an account of her life with Sir Marmaduke that, forgetting Mrs. Buckworth's description of her father, and that mad people were not to be relied on in the least, Liza began to hate her dead parent even more fiercely than she had done before. And believing firmly that to him alone was due her mother's present Lady Standee at Home. Ill state, she vowed to for^*et liim and his teachmg as soon as ever she could, the while she longed to escape from Dreewood, where she could see her presence would never be necessary again. For even if she could make her mother's clouded brain receive the fact that she was her daughter, she had sense enough to know that far from this being a comfort to her, the poor vain creature would be much more likely to resent this circumstance, because Liza would be younger and prettier than she was herself, than to receive with rapture intelligence that would be nothing save empty words. Up to that minute Liza had not spoken, but in reply to something Mrs. Morgan said, she at last opened her lips; but she had hardly got a word out when Lady Standen dropped the hands she held, clapped both her own to her forehead, and fled with a shriek to her chair, where she buried her face for VOL. I. M 178 A Tangled Chain. one moment in the cushions. Mrs. Morgan made a sign to the others to flee, but Liza, mistaking her intention, went up to her mother and began trying to soothe her. But this roused her to fury, and declaring that Sir Marmaduke had taken upon himself to personate her dead youth, as another means of insulting a defenceless woman, she flew upon her daughter, yelling and screaming, and pouring out a flood of foul language, the while she struck wildly at the frightened girl. And though the matron at once secured her in a professional manner from behind, and Mrs. Yerney rang for help, Liza was so dreadfully alarmed that, notwithstanding her courage, she fell into Dr. Spencer's arms in a dead faint when he entered the room, from which she was roused with the very greatest difliculty. *Ali! Dr. Spencer,' she said, when she was restored to herself, and stood waiting for Lady Stanclen at Home. 179 the carriage on the steps of the house ; ' you were right and I was wrong. I hope I need never come here again,' and she looked apprehensively at the doctor, who could not resist smiling, ' My dear young lady,' he said, ' for twenty years your poor mother has existed without you; she is not likely to want you now, is she ? any more than she did. I will look after her carefully, I promise you, and I will send Knighton to you every now and then, to tell you the latest news. Now good-bye ; forget this afternoon's work if you can, and always let me know your address.' And so saying, the doctor put the girl into her carriage and watched it drive away, smiling still, while much to Mrs. Verney's astonish- ment, Liza sank back on the cushions and cried quietly and silently all the way home to the hotel, while, when it was reached, she rushed to her room, where she remained all VOL. I. M 2 180 A Tangled Chain. night behind her locked door, coming down the next morning a httle white and drawn- looking, but having nothing at all to say on the subject of the asylum, which never was mentioned again to her by Mrs. Verney as long as they were together. CHAPTEK VI. INTRODUCED TO SOCIETY. The Honourable Juliette and the Honourable Hyacinth Farrer were two ladies of a certain age, whose careers as members of society had been brought to an untimely end in the com- mencement of their second season, by the inauspicious manner in which their father, Lord Maurice Farrer, had disappeared sud- denly, his face set towards Spain, and his debts unpaid, in a manner that caused much bad language among his creditors. There was no thanks due to him that ^300 a year and the big house in Eaton Square stood between his two daughters and 182 A Tangled Chain. starvation, and regardless of the fact that even this splendid income was all they had to look forward to, they continued in the old home, ever expecting the return of the wanderer, of whom they had nothing but kindly thoughts, and whose home-coming was to refute all the wicked gossip that had crystallized round his unhonoured name. In those days Juliette had had the ball of social success at her feet, and this she could never forget, and in consequence, exacted certain comforts and deference from her younger sister that were only too willingly given, and which had been all very well when they were young ; but as age became a proba- bility ; and, as Miss Hyacinth remarked plain- tively, coals and rates rose simultaneously, it was undoubtedly necessary to take definite steps to provide for a time when really good food would be a sine qua non, and when Miss Hyacinth would be unable to battle at that Introduced to Society. 183 bear-garden, the Stores, with other impecu- nious females who, for the sake of saving a few pence on each article, undergo an im- mense amount of wear and tear of temper and loss of time, in procuring things, to be obtained by sending a post-card to the nearest grocer's. Indeed, had it not been pathetic, it would have been ridiculous to see proud little Miss Hyacinth wrestling with the crowd, to obtaui her share of the scanty attention to be had from the supercilious young men behind the counter; and as she attired herself for the purpose in an enormous bonnet and veil, great gloves, and goloshes, at least three sizes too big for her, to disguise from the public the tiny ears, hands, and feet that in her estima- tion would stamp her as a Farrer in the eyes of the most obtuse; she looked so like a venerable lodging-house keeper that it often took her a whole day to do her ' shopping,' 184 A Tangled Chain. and so fatigued her, that she could not resist letting her sister know all she felt and her fears for a future, that she dimly compre- hended was not quite so far off as it used to be. This dreary shopping, and the impossibility of letting Juliette have quite as many little comforts as that spoiled beauty deemed necessary, so wore upon her spirits, that Miss Hyacinth fell ill, and in the softened mood caused in Miss Juliette by the fact that she could really be very unwell indeed, she was emboldened to confess to that autocrat that if she meant to remain in Eaton Square, some steps, and those immediate ones, would have to be taken to augment an income that was quite inadequate for half the demands made upon it. It was then the natural nobility of the elder sister showed itself. Hyacinth had always done so much, had gone without so much, that Juliette had really begun to be- Introduced to Society. 185 lieve she liked scrimping and saving, and doing the work of two maids, and, though it was a severe struggle to the self-indulgent woman, she rose to the occasion, and talked so well and so wisely that her sister's veneration for her was increased a thousand-fold, and she was more than ever convinced what a career had been spoiled by theii* father's selfish conduct. The outcome of all this was that the family lawyer was consulted, and the adver- tisement appeared, which finally resulted in Liza's answer ; while the arrangements as regards money payment being all made by Mr. Stansfield, their feelings were spared as much as possible, and a new regime began in Eaton Square, that added an inch appar- ently to Miss Juhette's stature; although Miss Hyacinth's high-bred honesty was such that she would have spent every farthing of Liza's ample payment on herself individually, 186 A Tangled Chain, and had to be talked to for some time by the ' united strength of the company,' consisting of Mr. Stansfield and her sister, before she could see that the new furniture and extra maids engaged and paid on the strength of the first quarterly stipend being forthcoming in advance, were all for Liza's benefit, and, therefore, were legitimate means of employ- ing the money, that she could hardly bear to speak of, even in the privacy of her sister's chamber. Into this household, Liza and Mrs. Verney arrived one dark, cold November night, when the Square looked densely filled with fog, through which the yellow gas lamps gleamed dully ; and as the girl stood for a moment on the threshold of the door, she shuddered instinctively, feeling that for her all the freedom of unconventionality was over and done with, and that, at all events for the present, she would have to suppress herself, Introduced to Society, 187 until she had discovered her way about * society,' and knew exactly when to speak and when to hold her tongue. Strong-minded and resolute as she was, her mother's state of health had given her a real and permanent shock, and the week or two that had elapsed since she left the Holt — albeit the days had been principally spent among shops and her nights at theatres — had taught her so much, that she could only look about her and wonder how she should ever make up the time she had lost in the wilds of Cornwall. And indeed she was some weeks in Eaton Square, and Christmas was well in sight, before she even began to realise how in- tensely different she was to all those with whom she came in contact; and while she was amused by the smallness of their aims and the pettiness of the daily round of trivialities, that engrossed them body and 188 A Tangled Chain. soul, she could not resist a mighty scorn seizing her for those who went regularly to their fashionable church because everyone else did, and who performed their religious duties as they did everything else, without a thought of what they really should mean, and without being in the least deterred by them, from vulgar scheming after matrimonial successes for their daughters, or from cabal- ling together to keep outsiders away from those inner circles, reserved alone for the favoured creatures whose birth and means were alike unexceptionable. That Mrs. Verney laughed at all she saw — that Sir Marmaduke's teaching all seemed borne out by her experiences — only made Liza feel profoundly disgusted, and more resolved than ever on living her own life in her own way ; and though her father had now been dead only about three months, she declared her resolution of casting off her Introduced to Society. 189 mourning, and going out into all the society that her hostesses could procure for her. * You see, Miss Farrer,' she said, in reply to some remark addressed to her one night after dinner by the elder of the two sisters, ' no one knows here how long my father lia& been dead, and I have no time to lose. I did not care for him, and, indeed, hated him. Why should I pretend to be in affliction, when anyone who knows me at all must understand how sincerely relieved I am to be rid of him ? ' ' Will you excuse me, Liza,' said Miss Juliette freezingly, ' if I suggest that there are certain commands that w^e are bound to consider, one of these most emphatically is respect for the memory of a deceased parent. *" * You must remember I am a savage, and don't care one pin for those commands,' said Liza carelessly, taking up Miss Hyacinth's work, which lay on the table by her, and beginning to unravel it with her nervous 190 A Tangled Chain. fingers. ' This is my father's teaching, and if I can respect anything about him I should certainly respect that/ * Oh ! my dear,' said Miss Hyacinth, coming into the room at that moment, and taking the work from her gently ; ' you really mustn't. Christmas so near too, and not half my things ready, though Mrs. Yerney's help has been invaluable — there, what are you and my sister discussing? One of the old subjects, I presume ? . * Why are you doing this work ? ' asked Liza in her usual manner, taking no heed of Miss Hyacinth's question. * For my old nurse — a good soul, though ungrateful,' said Miss Hyacinth smiling. * We can't afford to give presents, you know, unless we make them. She won't care about it, I daresay ; but then she'll remember I have been thinking of her, and that's some- thing.' Introduced to Societij. 191 'Don't you ever long to get out of this atmosphere of shams ? ' said Liza. ' It seems to me that everything is such a pretence here, and we can none of us even be natural. Miss Farrer wants me to feign a grief I never felt, and you are working your fingers to the bone to benefit some wretched old person who won't, on your own showing, care a bit for it when it is done. Now I want to say and do things, because I want to say and do them; not because someone thinks I ought to do and say certain other things. Come what will, I, at all events, will be natural.' * What would that result in ? ' asked Mrs. Verney, looking up from a gaudy sofa-rug she was making under Miss Hyacinth's direction. ' You might as well refuse to wear clothes because they are conventionaL A long lapse of years has made the naked natural body an indecent spectacle ; a long 192 A Tangled Chain. lapse of clothed speech has made the naked truth a disgusting object, and one we hate to see planted before us. Miss Farrer will bear me out, I am sure, in what I say. Is it possible for any woman or man, who respect themselves and who expect to be asked out to dinner, to be really their natural selves ? I put it to the meeting.' 'We are like a debating society now we have Liza here,' said Miss Farrer looking down at the novel she held in her hand. ' Now, were I in the Palace of Truth, I should say I want to read and do not wish to discuss questions that have no answers, or that have been answered long before we, any of us, were born; but as we are only in my drawing-room, I must say I don't think it is possible to be natural, Mrs. Verney, and I am quite sure I do not want to be. We should all be very unpleasant companions if we were. A natural person, Introduced to Society. 193 who persists in stating unpleasant truths, would soon turn this world into a desert. I'd rather be a little deceived than, for example, that Liza should tell me she thinks me a tiresome old woman, far too fond of working Hyacinth to death, and far too selfish for folks to like. I may know I am all this, especially when I am not well, or can't sleep, but I do not want to be confirmed in my opinion of myself, I can tell you.' ' As if any one could ever think such nonsense, Juliette dearest,' exclaimed Miss Hyacinth, wringing her hands. ' You, the sweetest, noblest, who, at our worst time of trouble, never faltered, but upheld the honour of our name as no one else could possibly have done — you selfish ; I could quarrel even with you for suggesting such a thing,' and she glared round at the company in quite a fierce and furious manner. 'We are going far a-field, as usual with VOL. I. 194 A Tangled Chain, women, when one particular subject lias to be discussed,' interrupted Liza, not caring to take up the challenge and declare Miss Farrer all her sister thought her; for her private opinion entirely coincided with the one Miss Farrer had supposed her to hold. * We've done with the subject of my coming out, and we are now settling morals instead of manners. I want you to give a dance on Christmas Eve, Miss Farrer — -we can leave the question of mourning until some other occasion. I suppose you know enough people to invite ? ' 'Jane will give us all assistance about that,' said Miss Hyacinth, looking at her sister. 'The Duchess of Wallingford, the wife of the head of our house, would naturally see that society came back at our call,' replied Miss Farrer with dignity ; ' but I really could not undertake anything at present larger Introduced to Society. 195 than a carpet dance, besides which, Liza, you are not presented, and there are no drawing- rooms until March.' ^ I have not the least intention of being presented, said Liza emphatically.' 'Queens and Kings are my detestation, beside which, nothing on earth would induce me to show myself anywhere in one of those disgusting low dresses. Talk about savages, that is a relic of savagedom if you like, and all proper minded women should set their faces against going to Court until the necessary costume is altered. I call it too nasty of the Queen, and she a great-grandmother. But putting that out of the question, my father and I are republicans, and were I to go to Buckingham Palace to kiss hands, I should expect to see his ghost there before me.' *You are evidently hopeless, Liza; still much has of course to be excused to you when we consider your bringing up,' said VOL. I. N 2 196 A Tangled Chain. Miss Farrer, once more taking up her work. *Pray consider that or anything else, if you will give way about the dance,' said Liza. * Eecollect I have never been to a ball at all, and I really pine to know if it be quite as delightful as most girls make out.' ' I am positively afraid of the effect it may have on Liza,' said Mrs. Yerney smiling. * What will she say to the low dresses and the waltz, I wonder, if she cannot bear the costume of the drawing-room ; I shall be anxious to hear her remarks when she sees any man who likes clasp any girl he selects round the waist, drawing her closely to him, and start- ing off in a mad whirl. How thankful I am I am not a savage, and that I have been accustomed to these things from my youth up ; otherwise really I might be inclined to hold Byron's opinion on the subject. Certainly use is second nature.' Ititroducecl to Society. 197 ' Dear Mrs. Verney, excuse me, but Byron, you know — well, it is not quite the poetry we quote now-a-days,' said Miss Hyacinth flushing. ' Well, no; you read those elegant books by lady authoresses from Mudie's instead,' said Liza smiling, and longing to quote passages from 'Don Juan' to the old ladies. 'Listen here,' and she proceeded to read a warm description of a country house party, written in a remarkably easy style ; where every married woman seemed anxious to change her husband for somebody else's, and where the conversation was of the feeblest and most flippant character. ' There, if that is society and high life, I declare I prefer Cornwall and solitude. I wonder, if I marry, if I shall instantly tire of my husband and look out for a lover.' 'Of course you will, I did,' said Mrs. Yerney, laughing at the sisters' horrified 198 A Tangled Chain. expressions. ' Now, Miss Farrer, recollect we are in the Palace of Truth and forgive me ; but think of your acquaintances all round ; can you honestly name anyone who could pose as Darby and Joan, for example, and who are not heartily tired of each other ; if so, pray ask them to the dance. I shall require nothing more, there will be amuse- ment for me for the whole evening.' ' The duke, the duchess,' gasped Miss Hyacinth, appalled by Mrs. Verney's flippancy. . ' Dear Hyacinth, hardly the duke,' said Miss Farrer in a low tone, glancing at some * society ' journals, that, much to her open disgust and secret amusement, came week by week to Liza. * No ! hardly the duke and scarcely the duchess,' interruj^ted Liza laughmg, as she remembered well the talk there was, or rather the hints that were given about the duchess's attachment to a younger son, who had not Introduced to Society. 199 disappeared as emphatically as he might have done after the gorgeous wedding ceremony in Westminster Abbey. ' However, we will leave the family and go farther a-field ; come, Miss Farrer, think, do yon know any two people who are honestly attached to each other, and whose thoughts have not hankered after some other fate than they secured to each other by the marriage service ? ' Miss Farrer looked at her sister, and then down at the wedding-ring she wore on the middle finger of her right hand. * Our mother's was an ideal marriage,' she said, in a low tone of voice ; ' our dear father was quite unhinged by her death, and was never the same man again. She gave me this ring on her death-bed — I was only sixteen — and told me to look at it if ever I were tempted to marry for anything save love — '' it is all that is left of a perfect love," she said. I can sec her now, Hyacinth — 200 A Tangled Chain. but there, I cannot talk about it. Ah ! me, we did not know it then, but we lost eveiything when she died,' and two large tears crept down Miss Farrer's cheek, and lay on the ring at which she was looking. ' Then there were Aunt Florence and Lord Henry Willoughby, dear,' said Miss Hyacinth, taking her sister's hand in hers and pattmg it gently; ' and that reminds me, where is Koger, dearest ? we have not heard of him for weeks. If we do give a dance for Liza, we must be quite sure he is in town.' ' He won't dance if he is,' said Miss Farrer smiling; 'but he must, most certainly, come; he is such an earnest fellow, and yet so clever. I think he might be able to talk over Liza into seeing some good in religion; that boy has not a selfish thought, and spends himself and his money in doing good.' * Just like one of Miss Yonge's goody-goody creatures,' exclaimed Liza with a sneer. Introduced to Society. 201 * Who was it said all her men were like governesses in trousers ? I am sm-e yom* description of Mr. Eoger What's-his-name sounds quite as interesting and intellectual.' * Eoger Willoughby is our first cousin, and as such must be spoken of with respect/ said Miss Farrer quietly. ' He and Wilfrid Knighton are the only male relations we have, who really behave like relations. Of course we look up to the duke, but then we hardly ever see him — those two boys are con- stantly here, or at least were, until they became so busy.' ' I have met a Mr. Knighton,' remarked Liza in a low tone. ' He is a doctor at Dr. Spencer's at Dreewood; do you not recollect I told you my mother was there.' * That is a brother ; we see little of him indeed,' said Miss Hyacinth, ' very little.' Wilfrid is a clergyman at Whitechapel, very ritualistic ; his only fault, dear lad, and if ^02 A Tangled Chain, it please him, I don't see why we should mind. I did work him a white stole once, for weddings and christenings, but it seemed so ridiculous, you know, to dress up like that, that I could never bring my mind to do him another. Then he believes in confession — but there, we set against all that the work he does. Two courts are quite respectable, where once even the police dare not go down ; and Eoger told me that in what was the worst, the inhabitants had risen in a body and turned out one of the lodgers, because they had found out he was a thief, and they didn't want to lose the character of the court again. There's a triumph for Wilfrid — one can excuse a few ribands, when such results as these are obtained.' * Oh, dear me ! how we do wander,' said Liza, with a yawn, and upsetting Flick the terrier who was asleep on her lap. ' Here is bed-time Introduced to Society. 203 and nothing decided about our dance ; come, Miss Farrer, to be or not to be, that's the question; or rather would be, had I not firmly made up my mind to give one some- where else, if you refuse to do it. I am sure I could get hold of the Duchess. My name is a good one, and my purse deep, and, in fact, I mean to begin to be merry. Life is going fast away, at least, all that part that is worth having. Still, I want you to do it, and then I can be introduced to the pious Mr. Willoughby. Who knows, lie may convert me, and I may yet be heard of as a shining light at the East End,' and she danced up to Miss Farrer, and looked down at her with a merry twinkle in her eyes. ' Miss Hyacinth and I will talk it over and let you know to-morrow,' said Miss Farrer, rising and ringing for prayers, an action that she knew would cause Liza to disappear, and which she always performed when slie wanted 204 A Tangled Chain, to get rid of her at night ; and, as usual, it had the desired effect, for hastily gathering up her belongings and whistling to Flick, Liza rushed away to bed, nearly upsetting the fat butler, who had returned to ' the family ' the moment Miss Farrer was able to offer him a home again ; in a manner that spoke volumes for his goodness and attach- ment to his ' young ladies,' on whom he had kept an eye ever since the day when they told him, with tears, that they could not retain him in their service, even without wages, because they could not afford him food. In his opinion, Liza was naturally both an interloper and a heathen, and he looked at her always in such a manner, that she declared more than once to Mrs. Yerney, that either he must leave or she should ; but naturally Mrs. Verney talked her over. But when Forshaw heard of the proposed dance, Introduced to Society. 205 his spirits revived so much, that he became quite civil to Liza, although he announced his intention of keeping his eyes on both her and Mrs. Verney, because he was quite sure they were neither of them what they ought to be, and he wasn't going to have the family disgraced by ' no goings on,' as long as he was in Eaton Square. Indeed, Forshaw was mainly the cause of Miss Farrer's giving in at last to Liza's importunities, for he suggested that a dance would be like old times again ; and so revived remembrances of bye-gone glories, that even his mistress became quite excited, and found herself wondering what dress would best become her on the auspicious occasion, in a manner that she had not done since Lord Maurice's disappearance, and the downfall of all her castles in the air. * Dear me. Miss Farrer,' exclaimed Liza, as they met on the passage on Christmas eve, 206 A Tangled Chain. on leaving their rooms prior to a descent to the ball room ; ' I should not have known you; why don't you always look young and pretty, I wonder ? ' and she gazed at the tall, beautiful woman, who seemed to have slipped twenty years from her shoulders with the old black dress that had become her ordinary wear. ' Because I am neither one nor the other,' said Miss Farrer gratified, more than she would have cared to confess, by Liza's evident admiration. ' Ah ! Liza, gather your rose-buds while you may; beauty fades, and youth will not last ; remember that, my dear.' ' I do remember it, and that's why I wanted my dance to-night,' said Liza brightly. ' Come, dear Miss Farrer, there's the* bell — say what you will, I only wish I had half your good looks,' and gathering up the train of her soft white silk, decorated with sundry pale mauve flowers to mark it out as a garb Introduced to Society. 207 of mourning, she ran down to the ball-room, and was soon highly amused by watching the scene around her, and receiving the homage her unmistakable beauty and riches earned for her. ' So that's your hehess, Julie ? ' said a man about thirty- two, who was leaning against one of the doors watching all that w^ent on ; 'I should say you have your hands full. She looks masterful. What a curious expression she has too, quite unlike anyone else — does she show any traces of Sh^ Marmaduke's extra- ordinary fancies on the subject of education V ' Oh, Eoger, dear boy ! ' exclaimed Miss Farrer, as she turned hurriedly round, and caught sight of his square, good-tempered face, that not even his profoundest admu'er could call anything save plain ; ' you are here, then. Yes ; that is Miss Standen. Let me introduce you ; I know you don't care for young ladies, but then she is an 208 A Tangled Chain. exception to the rule — she has abeady heard of yoii.' ' Ah ! in your usual kindly manner you have heen singing my praises, I suppose,' said Mr. Willoughby smiling. * No, no ; I don't want to be introduced to her yet, at any rate, I would so much rather look on and be able to watch her. Hullo ! ' he said, as he caught sight of Mrs. Yerney's figure among the crowd ; ' how on earth did Mrs. Dugarron get here, of all places in the world ? I thought you, at least, were particular, Julie ; or perhaps this is Jane's idea of a joke ? ' ' Who ? What — what did you say ? ' said Miss Farrer nervously. ^ No one is here who ought not to be, Roger, dear ; Jane gave me the list. That lady in black is Mrs. Yerney — Liza's companion — one of the Yerney's, you know^ in reduced circumstances, poor soul, and, of course, we feel for her.' Introduced to Society. 209 *You are talking like Cynthia, not like yourself/ exclaimed her cousin frowning. ' That is no Verney ; it is Viver's divorced wife. I don't often speak scandal, cousin Julie, or remember it, but I am as positive of my facts as I can be. Why, I was witness in the case, worse luck; Ernest Dugarron was my dearest friend. If you don't believe me, Knighton will confirm my statements. I'll bring him here to-morrow and we'll confront her together — you owe it to Miss Standen, to rescue her from such a companion.' ' Let me introduce you to Liza,' urged Miss Farrer ; ' she will set your mind at rest in a moment, she has all Mrs. Verney's testi- monials ; besides, it is impossible to live with her and not see she is a lady.' * No one would call her anything else,' replied Mr. Willoughby ; ' all the same, she was the Countess of Vivers, and ran away from her husband with another man. Sir VOL. I. o 210 A Tangled Chain. Marmacluke's teaching seems to have infected you, Jiihe, else yon, I am sure, would never defend her for a moment. By-the-way, I will he introduced to Miss Standen, and at once; a little cross-questioning will soon show me if she be privy to this deception, or if she be taken in too. I wonder she dare come down stairs into general society. No one who ever saw her could possibly forget her. Why all London ran after her one season ; then came the smash. The talk increased her notoriety, and at one time her photograph was in all the shop windows, between Totty de Lisle and the Princess of Wales, in the usual mixed way of the vendors of these articles. Judging from the attention Miss Standen is receiving, her photograph will be in demand next season. If it were not for that curious look she has in her eyes, she would be quite as good-looking as even you were. Cousin Julie ; and judging Introduced to Society. 21 1 from all my father has told me, and that L recollect, that is no light praise/ ^ Ah ! flatterer, I will not listen to you, or I shall have my head turned too,' said Miss Farrer, smiling at the man, who was ten years or more her junior, and who, at the mature age of six, had persisted in proposing to her at any and every opportunity. ' But I am in no mood for compliments, Roger ; you have made me very uneasy, I cannot con- ceal the fact. Still I do believe you are mistaken ; if she were as well known as you say, she would never have dared to come down to-night.' * Did she make any opposition ? ' asked her cousin, still looking fixedly at the lady in question. ' Did you tell her I was coming ? She must surely have remembered my name in connection with the case/ ' She certainly did oppose our desire of seeing her among us, but only on the score VOL. I. o 2 212 A Tangled Chain. of her dress/ said Miss Farrer. 'Ah ! here comes Liza, now I will introduce you, Eoger, for people are beginning to look at us. I am sadly neglecting my duties ' — and anxious to escape from the ideas that Mr. Willoughby had put into her head, and being quite sure he was mistaken in his statement, Miss Farrer performed the introduction, and making some excuse, hurried away to the duchess, to whom she confided Eoger' s sus- picions, and who at once made her easy by declaring she had seen Lady Yivers scores of times, and that she was not in the least like the companion — a declaration that spoke volumes for the duchess's powers of noticing the personal appearance of those whom she considered beneath her in the social scale. CHAPTER VII. IN THE CONSERVATORY. After the hasty introduction was effected, Mr. Willoughby could scarcely resist from plunging headlong into the question of Mrs. Verney's identity with Mrs. Dugarron; but naturally it was a matter that required some amount of delicate handling, and he hardly felt able to begin the subject in the ball-room, where he and Liza were standing for a few moments, while she examined her card and wondered whether either of the hieroglyphics inscribed thereon represented Mr. Willoughby, whose name she had not heard when Miss Farrer had performed the hurried ceremony 214 A Tangled Chain, by which they were made known to each other. At last he said — * No, you will not find my name there, or on any other card, Miss Standen. I am that most miserable of all creatm-es, a man who cannot dance. I have no ear, alas ! and, in consequence, have given up victimizing any unfortunate girl who is good-natured enough to endeavour to accommodate herself to my steps, or rather, my lack of step. ' Then why do you come to balls ? ' asked Liza smiling; ^I should have thought bed would be preferable to standing about watch- ing other people enjoy themselves.' * So you share Shakespeare's notion then, that ''it is hard to look at pleasure with another man's eyes," ' said Mr. Willoughby laughing. ' I can't say I agree with you; for example, it is very pleasant for me to watch all these pretty girls flitting about, to see the bright dresses and the In the Conservatory. 215 flowers, and to hear lively music and laugh- ter, and this, too, without feeling it incumbent on me to share in the exertion of dancing. Now if I did dance, it would be my duty to look out for all the neglected ones, and to select only those plain and awkward girls for whom I am so profoundly sorry, because life is so disappointing to them — and now I need do nothing of the kind ; they don't care to talk, or I'd talk to them — and in consequence, I look at pleasure through all their eyes. Miss Standen, and enjoy this ever so much better than using my own.' 'You are very unlike the usual run of human beings,' replied Liza, looking at the plain, good face of her companion ; ' and so I should think you must be Eoger. I have heard so much about you,' she went on, as Mr. Willoughby, bowing profoundly, gave her to understand she was right in her surmise ; ' in fact, we hear a little too much al)out 216 A Tangled Chain, your perfections, and I fully expected you to be a bore. Your cousins declare you think it wicked to dance — I shall like you better now I know the real cause.' ' I am afraid I must confess to looking upon balls as rather a waste of time,' answered Koger ; ^ but, Miss Standen, shall we adjourn to the conservatory ? You look tired, and if you do not want to dance the next dance, we might as well talk where we shall not be scowled at for taking up other people's room, and there are one or two things I should like to ask you.' *The conservatory, by all means,' said Liza, gathering up her long skirts in one hand gracefully, and leading the way towards the tinyglass-house, that, being situated at the end of the two drawing-rooms, where the dancing was being carried on vigorously, commanded a good view of the scene. * To tell you the truth,' she added, as thev seated themselves In the Conservatory. 217 on a low red divan, cunningly arranged among the palms hired for the occasion, * I am very tired ; but more, I think, of the foolishness of the man of the period than of dancing. Everyone of the dear creatm-es, when they talked at all, said exactly the same things and asked the same questions. Of course, I am a savage, and look at all this much as a savage would ; but surely all the people in London are not as idiotic and feather-pated as these youths seem to be?' ' You would hardly expect them to plunge headlong into serious or weighty matters the moment they are introduced to you, would you ? ' asked Mr. Willoughby smiling. * All ! see, one of your empty headed acquaintances is coming to claim you — I suppose you must gov 'No, indeed, I shall not,' answered Liza, fuming and looking down at her card ; then, 218 A Tangled Chain. as her proposed partner reminded her of her engagement, she cahnly remarked she was better amused talkmg than dancing, and got rid of him with so httle attempt at conventional excuse, that, despite his rage, Lord Perceval Drury could not help being amused at his dismissal; while Eoger Willoughby, watching him away, said : ' Are you aware of what you have done ? That man is hunted by all the mammas in London, and half the girls in the room are envious of you — now you have made him your enemy. Why did you not say you were too tired to dance, even if you wanted to cast such an opportunity of ensnaring the catch of the season into the streets ? ' ' Oh ! I really don't care one bit if he be cast away altogether,' replied Liza, carelessly twisting her fan ; ' it will be extremely good for him to discover that there is one young In the Conservatory. 219 woman in London who does not join in the hunt. After all, I begin to be a morsel grateful to my father. If he had not shut me up in Cornwall all my life, I might have been exactly like anyone else ; and then, perhaps, I should have smirked sw^eetly at his lordship and smoothed him down with a lie. Faugh ! I feel quite ill when I think I too might have longed to be united to the catch of the season. Now I may truly say, man delights me not/ * Nor woman neither,' finished Mr. Wil- loughby. ' Oh, dear no ; I could not truthfully repeat that,' said Liza eagerly, yet laughing too; 'no, no, ]\Ii'. Willoughby, I am quite in love with my own sex. We are ever so much more interesting than men. Now, I have literally nothing to say to the average man, while I can talk by the yard to a woman — they are so interesting and amusing. ^20 A Tangled Chain, ^nd have so much experience, and then, if they are good hke your cousins, they make me feel good too, and that, I can assure you, is a novel sensation, and one not in the least encouraged by my father, who believed in the wickedness of the world, and could see nothing good in it at all.' * And where have you seen so many women?' asked Mr. Willoughby, interested despite himself at Liza's manner. * I must confess I am sorry men do not strike you favourably as a whole ; but I can flatter myself I am not an average man, for, at any rate, you have found me worth talking to.' ' I can't quite say that,' answered Liza naively. ' Anyhow, you are more interesting at present; though I cannot allow you are nearly as amusing as Mrs. Yerney, for example. I can talk to her by the hour together, and we make delightful excursions all over London. I know just where Tom In the Conservatonj. 221 Pinch lived, have seen Squeers and his boys in my mind's eye setting off from Snow Hill over and over again, and I have walked in Kensington Square with Esmond and Beatrix ; I could tell you the exact house Amelia lived in Kussell Square, and there is not one city church I have not explored from crypt to bell-tower. Have you ever seen the city on a Sunday, Mr. Willoughby ? I think it the most delightful place I ever was in ! Then there's Epping Forest, and oh ! a thousand places, all of which, doubt- less, would bore you to death, but are joys indeed to us who have our Thackeray and Dickens at our fingers' ends.' ' But so have I,' interrupted Mr. Willoughby ; ' and as I live in Whitechapel, a sweet and savoury spot to anyone who does not mind Jews and can properly appreciate sugar- baking and fried fish, I may say I do know the city on Sunday ; and as to Epping 222 A Tangled Chain, Forest, I've been there in a van, Miss Stanclen, and on a bicycle in wet weather and dry, and I venture to declare there is not one corner of it I don't know, even in winter, and that is saying a great deal ; but, of course, your acquaintance of it must be wintery too ? ' ' I shall never forget Kingswood as long as I live,' said Liza dreamily; 'those long weird arms stretching up as if in profound agony, the beautiful colour of the ground, inches deep in cast-off foliage, and the wonderful purple air hanging in the branches, and then the mystery of the blue calm distance. I can't tell you how colour affects me, ]\Ir. Willoughby. I am sure you won't think me absurd if I say that nothing gives me pro- founder satisfaction than colour, and nothing impresses me more painfully than ugliness and lack of colour. I thought I was going to miss my Cornish seas] at first, but I think In the Conservatory, 223 there is much here at present that consoles me ; and if I feel very home- sick I go and gaze at Tmiier, or, better still, wander to Chelsea, and hang about the embankment. I love the grey river, and the red-sailed barges, and the mist, to say nothing of Carlyle and Leigh Hunt and Rosetti — they are all on the embankment v/itli me; and oh! how much, much better they are to know than most people. This sounds a little cracked, I am afraid,' she added ; ' but these grey ghosts resolve themselves into the hue of winter, you know; doubtless, when spring and summer comes, we shall turn our minds more to the present day, and to the living people round us who make history.' 'And lue means ?' asked Mr. Willoughby. * Oh, Mrs. Verney and I, of course,* answered Liza carelessly. ' I have intro- duced Mrs. Verney to the ghosts, she is in return to show me my heroes. I will confess 224 A Tangled Chain. to you, Mr. Willoughby, that at present my heart is given away — or, rather, divided between Gladstone and Eobert Browning; and I want to talk to them both ; at least, I mean, I should like them to talk to me. If ever I choose anyone, in the prevailing fashion of courtship, it will be someone that resembles either of my heroes. I should dearly love to belong to a husband who had done some- thing great. I don't want glory myself; but I feel I could do justice to life if I spent it in the reflected beams of a sun that was all mine, the while it illuminated the world.' * Be warned in time. Miss Standen, and avoid a genius as you would a pestilence. * Think of Mrs. Carlyle, to say nothing of a thousand others,' said Mr. Willoughby. ' Lady Byron, you know% was not as happy as could be desh^d; and, in our own day, there was poor Mrs. Dickens. Now, my experience tells me those women are really In the Conservatorij. 225 happiest — though I grant you they don't thmk so — who are the stronger of the two yoked together in the matrimonial car. A man to he really loving and faithful to the end, must be made to feel his inferiority, and must be in wholesome awe of the domestic goddess. Now, a genius, you know, hangs up his harp with his great coat, and is the dullest of the dull at home, where he is also liable to snap as well as snarl if he is not fed there with a little of the flattery that is lavished on him abroad ; and reflected glory soon pales, now you should marry an adoring fool. I am sure you and the genius would soon be at loggerheads — two of a trade never agree, you know.' ' Never was there anyone less like a genius than I am,' said Liza energetically. ' Do you know, I never wrote a line of poetry in my life, and never wanted to. I can't paint, and wouldn't if I could, for I could VOL. I. p 226 A Tangled Chain, never do nature justice, and I'd rather look at her any day than at the best copy of her that ever was made ; and, m fact, I don't want to do anything, save enjoy myself, and this I have done ever since I took my life into my own hands and escaped from my prison. Now I can do as I like, there is nothing to stop me.' * And is Mrs. Verney going to assist yoii in this praiseworthy and ambitious career of yours ? ' asked Mr. Willoughby, quietly watch- ing Liza ; ' if so, I feel inclined to ask you if you had good references with your companion. You want a careful guide if you are going to do as you like and think of no one save your- self; and my cousins, I should say, would be more reliable than a mere stranger, who neither by birth nor experience can be, but,' added he, breaking off hastily, ' you are no ordinary miss, why should I not say what I mean straight out. I know who Mrs. Yerney In the Conservatory. 227 was and is, Miss Standen, if you do not ; let me tell Julie, she can get rid of her quietly, and you will soon procure another companion. I assure you they are not diffi- cult to find/ * I knew all Mrs. Verney's story as soon as she came to me,' replied Liza ; * and I have not the very smallest idea of changing her. She has been very unhappy, very badly treated by the world, and I intend to do my best for her. Mind you, I should not do this if she did not suit me in every way ; but as she does, there is no more to be said in the matter. Let us talk of something else,' and Liza was about to draw Mr. Willoughby's attention to some of the guests, when he said — * But, Miss Standen, you cannot possibly know about Mrs. Verney. I must tell my cousins. Of course she has her version, but—' VOL. I. P 2 228 A Tangled Chain. * I have read the whole case. It was one of those my father used to bring before my notice as a reason why I should spend my days alone with him at the Holt,' interrupted Liza. ' Oh ! Mr. Willoughby, you must not interfere with me if we are to continue friends. Mrs. Yerney cannot harm me, can- not tell me anything I don't know. Besides, where is she worse than Lord Perceval Drury, for example, whose name, if I remem- ber rightly, is also in my book; or than Lord Vivers ? I have the profoundest contempt for men, and it will not be lessened if you turn and rend my poor friend, to whom you, a pious gentleman, deep in philanthropy, should rather say, " go and sin no more,'' more especially as she does not w^ant to, for living with me is so much better than any- thing else she has ever experienced, and I mean to stand by her if no one else does.' ' Mr. Dugarron was my dear friend, and In the Conservatory. 229 had a noble career before liim, ^Yhich that woman ruined,' said Eoger Willonghby; 'he meant simply to show her a way to salvation, and she compromised him horribly ; he found himself in such a situation that he was forced to marry her, and he died of the shame ; and the girl he loved and was going to marry, before that reptile crossed his path, and who loved and believed in him to the end, was shut out from his death-bed by that woman's hand/ ' Which was the hand of his lawful wife,' interrupted Liza. ' Excuse me, Mr. Willoughby, if I remind you that is one side of the story. Besides, I maintain that no one has a right to pry into anyone's past, and to weigh their actions by the world's standard. Right and wrong are often enough a mere question of time and place — what is right in America being wrong in England, and so on. Logically considered, crime is a mere question 230 A Tangled Chain, of climate — murder is not murder when called war. In Utah, a man has ten wives and no one interferes; whereas here we call it bigamy if he have only two, and give the perpetrator three or seven years — which is it ? Savages put old and - troublesome people out of the way ; and, in fact, it is only here, in this region of shams and falsity, that the law interferes and makes sin, where in other countries the inhabitants see nothing but laudable and wide-minded arrangements for the survival of the fittest and the comfort of the many, as opposed to that of the few.' Roger here burst into a roar of laughter. ' My dear Miss Standen,' he exclaimed, when his attack of hilarity had subsided, the while Liza watched him with a supercilious smile ; ^ at the risk of insulting you, I am obliged to laugh, or else I should really be forced into thinking you were talkmg what you truly believe. Why, if we followed out your In tJte Conservatonj. 231 theory, we should result only in the survival of the strongest and least scrupulous among us. It would never, never pay for a moment, putting it on the lowest grounds ; and, of course, on a higher standpoint, your ideas are simply those of uncivilized nations, and were done away with entirely when Chris- tianity's mild and beneficent reign began.' ' Were they indeed ? ' asked Liza scorn- fully. ' Say they were made amenable to, and punishable by law, and you will be right ; but say they were done away with, and you at once talk arrant nonsense. How often does the heir to a fine property long to put his father underground, in order that he may step into his shoes ? He does not do it, because he is afraid of being found out and hanged, but his wish is all there. And how often do you not hear girls talk of what they shall have when their parents die ? Surely here is the same spirit that causes the more 232 A Tangled Chain. truthful savage to put the old people out of the way. I can't imagine any reason either why they should be kept alive ; they are a nuisance to themselves very often, and to everyone else ; and I am sure when I grow old, I shall only be too grateful to anyone who would have the courage to administer to me my quietus.' ' When you are old, I shall hope to meet you and hear your sentiments on that same subject then,' said Mr. Willoughby. 'I assure you you will have changed your mind about it, as well as about a great many other things. You see, unfortunately, we are all kept in awe of a Higher Power, and if we do commit murders, or act unscrupulously or wickedly, we shall have to pay our debt to Him, if not to society. There is one great use of religion you see. Miss Standen ; it keeps us straight and makes us take a more wholesome view of life altogether.' In the Couservatonj. 233 * I can't see that it does anything real,' said Liza earnestly. * It only veneers the savage, it does not alter the man, who pre- sumably was made with all his evil passions and desires complete by this same Higher Power of yom's.' ' It may not entirely alter him, but it restrains him,' answered Mr. Willoughby, thinking at the same time what an extra- ordinary subject they had fallen upon for a ball-room ; ' and, after all, veneer is some- thing ; and in time, if we all try to be honest and good, I am sure we end by being so. You have only seen the black side of human nature. Miss Standen ; my cousins will show you the reverse of the picture. Better women never lived, of that I feel sure.' ' Yet look at Miss Farrer's selfishness and Miss Hyacinth's foolishness,' said Liza. ' Eather look at their high-minded truth ^nd their perfect love for each other,' urged 234 A Tangled Chain. Mr. Willoughby. * Hyacinth adores Julie, and is never so happy as when she is waiting upon her, and JuHe's very strong common- sense keeps Cynthia straight. Why will you not see there are two sides to every picture ? ' ' You only see one where Mrs. Verney m concerned,' said Liza mischievously. * Because there are some people who are done for, and who can never be made fit to associate with again, and Mrs. Dugarron is one,' said Mr. Willoughby firmly ; ' she can have no future save one of repentance.' ' But what sort of a future could that be ? ' asked Liza innocently ; ' do you mean a sisterhood, or some such nonsense as that ? " I was not good enough for man and so was given to God" is what you mean, I suppose? If she is not fit to be with me, she cannot be fit to be with anyone. I shall stand by her to the end, and try to make up to her for all she has suffered. Don't you think your In the Conservatory. 235 God ever stops exacting a punishment for sin ? What a hard creed is yours, to be sure.' 'It is not my creed especially,' answered Eoger, 'but it is a law that no one can evade; you cannot bury your past, or rather, you cannot lay its ghost to rest — when least expected it rises, and exacts just payment of its debts.' ' Ah ! you mean a known past,' said Liza easily ; ' how about the sin that is never discovered ? ' ' That exacts its pound of flesh, too,' replied Mr. Willoughby calmly. ' You are fond of quotations. Miss Standen, doubtless you remember the one beginning, '' Though the mills of God grind slowly yet they grind exceeding small." ' 'Oh! yes, I know it; but then you have to have a god,' said Liza, rising and looking straight before her ; ' now I, you know, am not encumbered with one, and so I need not ^36 A Tangled Chain. bother myself about anything of the kind. I beHeve, yes, I really do believe, that I am again grateful to papa — a religion seems to be a very great nuisance. Now nothing, save a dread of law and law}^ers, would prevent me doing exactly as I like; and as I have a steady nerve and a clear brain, I may defy them — it is only fools who are found out.' ^ " And all who say in their hearts there is no God," ' said Mr. Willoughby, with a low bow ; ' another quotation, but one I don't expect you to recognise. Miss Standen.' ' Psalms of David,' replied Miss Standen quickly ; ' I was given the Bible, too, Mr. Willoughby. Papa wished me to see what sort of men were considered the models for future generations. There was Solomon and David, you know, and, in fact, all of those pious gentlemen, and yet not one of them kept straight. I am not quite such a fool after all, you see ! ' In the Gonservatorij. 237 ' Stay half a moment/ said Mr. Willougliby, as Liza moved forward as if she were going to join the dancers again ; 'do tell me — what are you going to do with your life ? ' * I am going to enjoy myself first and fore- most, and then I should very much like to really fall in love,' replied Liza; ' it seems to be such an extraordinary sensation, and makes people do such curious things, that I should really like to know what it is like. At present I cannot imagine caring for anyone more than I care for myself, especially for a man ; but Mrs. Verney says there is nothing so delightful as real love, and so I do hope I may some day experience it. Isn't it curious to look at all that crowd, none of whom do I care if I never see again ; and to think that among them there may be one I may love, whose voice may charm me, and whose very touch may be pleasure ? Were you ever in love, Mr. Willoughby ? ' 238 A Tangled Chain, * Scores of times/ said Eoger easily. 'jFirst and foremost, I adored my nm'se, and, in fact, I believe I love her still ; no one ever gave me such tea and toast, or mended my socks as she did — now they are either in big holes on Sunday morning or have great rucks in them, which are agony. Then I adored Julie, she v^as so lovely I couldn't help it ; of course, she is years older than I am, but that was all the better, she helped me on my way, and gave me an ideal of womanly grace and beauty that I have always kept. Then I naturally loved a good many pretty girls, but, after all, none as much as either Julie or my dear old Eobertson. If you are very good, I will take you to tea with her some day in her pretty almshouse, and you, too, shall be introduced to that tea and that toast.' ' Now you are talking nonsense,' exclaimed Liza pettishly, ' and that I cannot bear. If I talk at all, I like to talk sense. The reason In the Conservatory, 239 why the world keeps so foohsh is because deeper subjects are never touched upon. Now I did think you were dijfferent.' ' And so I am ; but not here, nor now,' said Koger earnestly. ' You see. Miss Stan- den, we don't know very much of each other, do we ? and, between ourselves, I don't feel like making confidences that will, doubtless, be served up with sauce piquante for Mrs. Dugarron's delectation. I suppose you have told, and will tell her all your innermost thoughts, and have given her your perfect confidence ? ' ' That I share with no one,' said Liza firmly. ' My life is my own — I am my own — and to myself alone I stand or fall.' ' A beautiful sentiment, truly ; but still let us select some other place than the conserva- tory for a real talk,' said Mr. Willoughby. * By the way, just one moment before you go. Miss Standen. Are you going to tell Julie f^ 240 A Tangled Chain. about Mrs. Dugarron-Yerney-Vivers, or shall I ? If you persist in keeping her, I do not see how I am to allow my cousins' roof to shelter her/ ' Are you aware that if I leave your cousins they will not be able to give many more balls ? ' asked Liza. ' Yes, quite ; but an honest workhouse is better than a palace shared with that woman. Eight must be done, whatever comes after,* replied Eoger. ' Give me a day or two to think,' said Liza. * Nothing will induce me to part with my friend, but I may think of some plan. Ah ! Sir Arthur,' she added, as a gentleman came towards her, evidently meaning to claim her, ^ it is our dance, I see. Good-bye, Mr. Willoughby, but let me know when we shall meet again.' And so saying, and nodding gaily, she abruptly broke off her talk and was soon dancing merrily among the rest In the Conservatory. 241 of the company; while Koger Willoughby, returning to the seat she had just vacated, sank back among the cushions and watched the dance, which to him seemed the most fooHsh sight possible, when he remembered those among whom most of his days were passed, and how poverty, sickness, and crime were going on a stone's throw from the place in which he was seated. He had scarcely resumed his usual sad train of thought, when he was interrupted by a voice on his right hand which spoke his name, and turning abruptly he found he was face to face with the widow of his old friend. He felt his cheek burn, but he said firmly : ' Mrs. Dugarron in my cousins' house — this is verily more than I can allow ! ' * So I have heard you tell Miss Standen,' said Mrs. Dugarron quietly, ' and that is why I want five minutes' talk with you. Why should you join in the hunt, Mr. Willoughby? VOL. I. 242 A Tangled Chain. For Ernest's sake leave me where I am. What harm can I do ? ' * As well should small-pox ask what harm it could do,' said Mr. Willoughby fiercely. *You ask what harm you can do, when to exchange words with such as you seems to me a moral degradation. Ernest was my friend ; that is why I cannot let you be with my cousins, Mrs. Dugarron — heaven knows what you might do to them, or what mischief you might work. A past such as yours makes decent society an impossibility, if you, and such as you, are to be allowed to flaunt about there.' ' I don't flaunt,' replied Mrs. Dugarron, smiling faintly; 'if I did, I should expect you to say all these hard things of me. You know Lord Yivers, you know my past — now leave me alone. I am earning my living honestly, harming none. Miss Standen is no innocent baby-girl, and even if she were. In the Conservatory, 243 I could only guard her from falling as I did. Leave me alone, Mr. Willoughby, until you find me "flaunting," then I will give you full leave to turn and rend me in the approved fashion of this Christian country, that condones every sin except the great one of being found out. Miss Standen stands by me.' ' Miss Standen does not know what she is doing,' said Mr. Willoughby; 'and if I did know your first husband by name and report, I knew your second well and thoroughly. You debased that noble nature ; you slew that kindly soul ; and you are to be here en- joying yourself, and working your wicked will, while he is in his grave — it is monstrous ! * ' Monstrous it may be, but hunting me away from here will not cause him to rise,' replied Mrs. Dugarron, bringing out her handkerchief and beginning to cry softly ; ' if it could, I would allow you to hunt me any- VOL. I. Q 2 244 A Tangled Chain. where you liked. Ernest would have been alive now if other people had not driven us about ; that was what he could not bear. He did care for me. I should have made him happy ; for his sake leave me alone. If I leave here, where could I go ? I have only one married sister, and she is poorer than I am, and my father will not see me. I promise you I will harm no one here, where, after all, I have no influence. I amuse Liza, and when I cease to do that, or she marries, I must go ; by then, I hope, I shall have earned a character. Give me another chance, Mr. Willoughby ! Kemember you are always preaching repentance and turning over a new leaf — now practise what you preach,' and Mrs. Dugarron held out her hands appeal- ingly, while the tears stood in her eyes. *I will think over matters and let you know,' replied Mr. Willoughby after a few seconds' pause. ' If I see the smallest sign In the Conservatory, 245 of your talking to my cousins, or taking Miss Standen anywhere she ought not to go, look out ! In the meantime, I shall watch you carefully, and see for myself if your repentance is true or feigned. I am not easily taken in ' — and bowing gravely, Mr. Willoughby left the conservatory, and made his way through the crowd to his cousin, who was eager to inform him that the duchess was quite sure that he was wrong in his suspicions ; while Mi's. Dugarron, seeing that she could shp away without being missed, went up to her room, where she burst into a fit of real crying, caused emphatically by finding out for her- self that she could no longer share in the society where, for a brief period, she had reigned a queen ; and that she only retained her present position by favour at the hands of those whom she hated, because they were richer and safer than she could ever be again. 246 A Tangled Chain, Suddenly, as she sat looking into the fire, an idea came into her head; and drying her eyes, she sat thinking, thinking, until her door opened, and Liza came into the room, eager to talk over the ball — the success of which, she had been solemnly assured by the duchess, was quite enough to make people talk, and to ensure her sufficient gaiety to satisfy her, even though she adhered to her first plan of not being presented at the Court of Her Majesty the Queen — when she became her old self, and entered eagerly into Liza's plans, leaving her own in abeyance until the time came to use them. 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