^yyyyywi^iwwvwvvowvy^^-^^-- ^'■':' ■ 
 
 ^m^m 
 
 'j^^^\j\j'^^ 
 
 
 
 s^rcir,^ 
 
 ;^VVW' 
 
 
 ,^v^.v 
 
 VVV V 
 
 ^. ^, 'w ^' W V ^ , ^ ■ ; ^ 'Vy O .y 
 
 
 
 - cv^ ■'■^' 
 
 yUMUU^ 
 
 '^^B^"-. 
 
 .>w^.J^tj^^^wr 
 
 *<^*«iji>JW^W^Wv^wUugwiJ^w,ufe%uv''^^v^ 
 
 rttjyuW^^^^^T^ 
 
 lAiJLJ'
 
 LI B R.ARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 823 
 
 V. \
 
 
 ^.7. y^ 
 
 Atxw'
 
 KINGSDENE 
 
 31 ^obeU 
 
 BY 
 
 HON. MRS. FETHERSTONHAUGH, 
 
 AUTHOR OF *'KILC0RRAN." 
 
 " Had no star ever appeared in the heavens, to man there would 
 have been no heavens."—/'^ Quincey. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES, 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON^ 
 
 ^ttbUshfrs in dDrbinitrj) txr ^^r Jtaj^^tB tl^^ ^tt«^«- 
 1878. 
 
 [All Rights Reserved :\
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 i I. STELLA - - - - 
 
 ^ IL FELLOW-TRAVELLERS 
 "^ in. THE NEW HOME 
 y IV. JE ME SOUVIENDRAI 
 /; V. " A NEW * MARGUERITE ' " 
 ^ VI. L ISOLA BELLA 
 
 PAGE 
 
 1 
 
 A 
 
 y VIL CHANGE UPON CHANGE 
 
 t>VIII. MERCI, FORTUNE 
 
 IP 
 
 (JJ^X. BONS CAMARADES 
 
 ^ X. KINGSDENE - - - - 
 
 (0 
 
 '' XL NOT TO BE BOUGHT WITH GOLD 
 
 i XII. A MERRY CHRISTMAS 
 r-XIII. A HAPPY NEW YEAR 
 
 Of 
 
 - 19 
 
 - 35 
 
 - 57 
 
 - 79 
 
 - 99 
 
 - 125 
 
 - 145 
 
 - 163 
 
 - 183 
 
 - 207 
 
 - 229 
 
 - 249
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 STELLA. 
 
 " Sculptors of life are we as we stand 
 With our lives un carved before us, 
 Waiting the time when at God's command 
 Our life-dream shall pass o'er us." 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 T is early on a bright June morn- 
 ing, and the Httle steamer 
 Electric, from the north of 
 Ireland to Liverpool, is slowly making 
 her way up the Mersey towards the 
 latter destination. In consequence of the 
 quantity of shipping crowding the river, 
 she is brought to a stop about once in 
 every five minutes, and her weary and 
 impatient passengers give utterance to 
 many an audible moan and complaint. 
 
 1—2
 
 KINGSDENE. 
 
 One amongst their number, however,, 
 aj^pears to take the unavoidable delay 
 with stoical indifference, probably the 
 result of his having already partaken of a 
 cup of tea and a square foot of bread-and- 
 butter, which renders him less clamorous 
 for breakfast than his hungrier and more 
 suffering brethren, whose constitutions 
 have been somewhat shaken by the 
 peculiar short roll of the little Electric 
 when meeting the wind sideways off the 
 Isle of Man at three a.m. that morn- 
 ing. 
 
 The said passenger is a tall, slight, fair 
 young man of about five-and-twenty, who 
 is leaning against the pile of luggage 
 covered over with a tarpaulin, which 
 encumbers the small steamer's deck, and 
 listlessly observing the numerous vessels of
 
 STELLA. 5 
 
 •every description and from every clime as 
 they glide slowly past. 
 
 A sudden commotion on board causes 
 ^11 eyes to turn towards a large steamer 
 which is passing the Electric on the star- 
 board side, and Sir Gordon Leslie rouses 
 himself sufficiently to take a pair of race- 
 glasses out of his travelling-bag, and scan 
 the faces of her passengers, as the Inman 
 Royal Mail Steamer, City of Montreal, 
 glides slowly and majestically past. 
 
 An uninteresting survey enough it 
 proves, until a blaze of red-gold hair 
 gleaming in the morning sun attracts his 
 ^ye. But, " It's only a child after all 1" 
 he mutters discontentedly, as a second 
 inspection convinces him of the latter fact, 
 and any further discoveries are effectually 
 put an end to by the indignant pitching
 
 KINGSDENE. 
 
 and rolling of the little Electric, as she 
 catches the *^ wash " of the larger steamer 
 in full force. 
 
 Two hours later, after a careful toilette 
 has somewhat restored his moral and 
 physical equanimity, Sir Gordon Leslie 
 makes his way into the coifee-room of the 
 Adelphi Hotel, with a view to breakfast- 
 ing before leaving Liverpool by the 
 London express. 
 
 Only three of the tables are occupied : 
 one by four or five men whose keen 
 haggard faces seem to say that business- 
 and not pleasure is the motive-power in 
 their lives ; another by a party of both 
 sexes, whose accent betrays their New 
 World nationality ; and the last by 
 a very small figure clad in black, 
 who is sitting in solitary silence and
 
 STELLA. 7 
 
 swinging one foot disconsolately, as she 
 wistfully watches the gay, cheerful faces 
 of the somewhat noisy party of Americans 
 aforesaid. 
 
 A queer little, dark, impish face has this 
 small specimen of womanhood, whose 
 years can scarcely number more than 
 eleven at most, and at the first glance 
 little else is revealed than a shock of red- 
 chestnut hair and a gleam of dark brown 
 eyes. 
 
 Gordon Leslie asks for a morning paper, 
 and is speedily buried in its columns — 
 from the interest of which even the arrival 
 of his breakfast can scarcely rouse him. 
 Suddenly a light step comes alongside of 
 his chair and a small brown hand is laid 
 on his arm, whilst a childish voice 
 says :
 
 KINGSDENE. 
 
 *' Please, isn't this yours T 
 
 Sir Gordon looks up with a start, and 
 smiles at the sight of the little sable-clad 
 figure with its merry, mischievous 
 gamin face, whilst, taking the smart 
 blue silk note-case out of her proffered 
 hand, he exclaims : 
 
 " A thousand thanks, little woman ! 
 You've saved me no end of bother by 
 finding that. Where was it V 
 
 " I found it lying on the floor out there 
 by the window when I first came in, and 
 so I waited a minute to see who it be- 
 longed to." 
 
 '' And what made you guess that it was 
 mine ? 
 
 ^* Oh ! because a thing like that would 
 only belong to a gentleman, not to 
 people like those behind us." And a
 
 STELLA. 9 
 
 shrug of the small shoulders testifies to 
 the speaker's contempt for the bourgeois 
 element as represented by the other 
 occupants of the coftee-room. 
 
 '' Have you had breakfast V inqmres 
 Sir Gordon, somewhat at a loss how to 
 show his gratitude for the service just done 
 him — which^ as the smart blue note-case 
 contains all his worldly wealth at this 
 moment, is no trifling one. 
 
 " No, and I should like some very 
 much," returns his new acquaintance with- 
 out a shadow of hesitation. 
 
 '* Well, then, sit down, and let's finish 
 mine and order some more." 
 
 ^' May I really ? and may I pour out 
 the tea ? I've done it often before." 
 
 ^' You shall do anything you like." 
 
 ^^ This is nice !" exclaims the small
 
 lo KINGSDENE. 
 
 visitor towards the end of breakfast, and 
 poising her last piece of muffin artistically 
 upon three fingers ; " but aren't you afraid 
 of what old Bloss '11 say to you when she 
 comes T 
 
 '' Who's old Bloss T 
 
 " Why, the fat old woman who took 
 charge of me on the ship. She's coming 
 in a few minutes to start me off for 
 London. Her real name is Mrs. Major 
 Blossom, but that's too long." 
 
 *' Quite too long. I shall call her Bloss 
 too when " 
 
 '"'' Young man !" and a stentorian voice 
 from behind makes both of them start 
 guiltily ; ^^ I am truly grieved that this 
 child, whose sinful tendency to forward- 
 ness and undue exaltation of spirit has 
 been the source of much tribulation to me
 
 STELLA. 1/ 
 
 throughout the voyage across the Atlantic, 
 should have so far forgotten herself as to 
 laugh and jest and eat with a stranger, 
 as if he were her own brother ! Were she 
 my own child things would indeed be 
 different !" and Mrs. Major Blossom sniffs 
 with portentous meaning. 
 
 **But I ain't," retorts the small sinner 
 referred to, " so don't Avorry me, there's a 
 "^ good woman, else I won't do your back 
 hair for you before I go, and you know 
 that your own arms won't reach to the 
 back of your head, Bloss." 
 
 " Stella !" gasps the outraged matron. 
 
 *^ It's true," pursues the imp, encouraged 
 by the visible laughter in Gordon Leslie's 
 eyes. '^ You know that if ever you try so 
 much as even to smooth your hair, all 
 your strings and buttons fly directly, and
 
 12 KINGSDENE. 
 
 it's just tempting Providence to do the 
 little tail at the back." 
 
 *' I cannot pei^mit this impertinence !" 
 and Mrs. Major Blossom advances firmly 
 upon the small culprit before her, but is 
 only confronted by a pair of little black 
 legs, as the owner of the latter appendages 
 ofoes to gfround under the table with an 
 agility which speaks of much previous 
 practice. 
 
 ''It is all my fault," says Sir Gordon 
 apologetically to the exasperated lady. "I 
 asked the little girl to have breakfast with 
 me, so you must not scold her when I 
 alone am to blame. She tells me that 
 she has to go on to London by the next 
 train ; perhaps you will let me be of use in 
 taking charge of her to her journey's 
 end r
 
 STELLA. 13 
 
 Here a sudden convulsion of the table- 
 cloth beside him reveals a momentary 
 glimpse of a little dark, gipsy face, the 
 grin of delight on which expresses full 
 satisfaction at the impending arrangement; 
 but it disappears again with pantomimic 
 celerity. 
 
 '' You're very good, sir. But I should 
 not like to trouble a stranger so much." 
 
 '' It's no trouble to me at all, I assure 
 you. She did me a great service just now 
 in returning something I had lost, and I 
 should like to be of use to her in return. 
 I believe it is quite time we started now, 
 so will you tell her T 
 
 But no orders are necessary on this 
 occasion, for Miss Stella emerges slowly 
 from beneath the table, smooths her hair, 
 puts her hat down firmly on her head, and
 
 14 KINGSDENE. 
 
 slides one hand into that of her new 
 ^hajDeron with a triumphant nod at her 
 old one. 
 
 " Good-bye, Bloss," she says ; '^ I'm sure 
 you're sorry to see the last of me !" and 
 though the tone is one of bravado, there 
 is a suspicious shake in the child's voice, 
 and Sir Gordon feels her hand fidgeting 
 nervously. 
 
 But the momentary trace of feeling 
 fades speedily, as Mrs. Major Blossom 
 gives her parting benediction with the 
 severe austerity suitable to unreclaimed 
 sinners, and Miss Stella walks out of the 
 €oifee-room humming the tune of the 
 latest comic song, and spends the last 
 moments of their uncongenial companion 
 ship in an attentive study of the coloured 
 flags painted over the sailing-lists of the
 
 STELLA. 15 
 
 different lines of Atlantic Mail Steamers, 
 which decorate the entrance walls in the 
 Adelphi Hotel. 
 
 When once the London express has got 
 fairly under way, and is tearing along at 
 forty miles an hour through the flat 
 uninteresting bit of country surrounding 
 our greatest commercial seaport^ Sir 
 Gordon makes a careful and minute survey 
 of his new fellow-traveller. • 
 
 Somewhere has he seen that wild, dark, 
 impish face before. But where ? for the 
 life of him he cannot think, though it is 
 an uncommon one enough. Its intense 
 paleness is rendered more striking by the 
 blackness of the eyebrows and of the long 
 sweeping eyelashes which cover the mis- 
 chievous, merry broAvn eyes, with their 
 queer look of waggishness like those of a
 
 i6 KINGSDENE. 
 
 dog when he wants to play, and yet with 
 all the faithful honesty of a dog's eyes in 
 them too. A mass of tawny, red-gold 
 hair comj)letes the picturesqiieness of the 
 child's appearance, though a somewhat 
 wide mouth and a nose with a most 
 decided upward tendency at the point, 
 rob her of all pretensions to real beauty. 
 
 She, on her side, is also quietly inspect- 
 ing her vis-a-vis, and summing him up in 
 her own mind. His frank, fair face, with 
 its expression of perfect refinement, and 
 his courteous friendly manner, have 
 already made a great impression on her 
 youthful imagination; and though to a 
 more experienced observer the indolent, 
 insouciant expression of the handsome face 
 might tell its own tale of weakness of 
 character in some points, still the firm,
 
 STELLA. 17 
 
 clean-cut mouth, which a shght brown 
 moustache scarcely hides, and the strong 
 square chin below it, vouch for strength 
 of character being there should it ever be 
 really called on. 
 
 Gordon Leslie's face was one of those 
 that irresistibly made one doubt his power 
 of choosing wisely in the great lotteries of 
 life, and yet that made one also realise 
 that whatever his choice might be, no 
 power on earth could shake his adherence 
 to it, whether it were for evil or for 
 good. 
 
 VOL. I. 2
 
 CHAPTER IT. 
 
 FELLOW-TRAVELLERS. 
 
 " ' What is life, father V 
 
 "'A battle, my child, 
 Where the strongest lance may fail. 
 Where the wariest eyes may be beguiled, 
 
 And the stoutest heart may quail. 
 Where the foes are gathered on every hand, 
 
 And rest not day or night. 
 And the feeble little ones must stand 
 
 In the thickest of the fight.' " 
 
 Life and Death, 
 
 2—2
 
 OUE name's Stella, isn't if?" 
 inquires Sir Gordon, by way 
 of a start. 
 
 "Yes. And yours is Sir Gordon 
 Leslie. I saw it on your portmanteau 
 just now." 
 
 " It's very odd, but I've been thinking 
 for the last hour that I've seen your face 
 before, and I've just remembered that it's 
 in a picture which I've got at my rooms 
 in town." 
 
 " What is the picture ?" 
 
 U
 
 22 KINGSDENE. 
 
 *' A little girl with hair just like yours, 
 swin2fino' in a hammock amono-st the 
 branches of a big tree. I bought it in 
 New York when I was over there two 
 years ago, and the picture was by a young 
 artist called Claud R-ay." 
 
 '^ He was my father, and the picture was 
 me," says Stella quietly. 
 
 "' Really ? I am very glad. But what 
 brings you over here by yourself, Stella T 
 
 *' He's dead," answers the child sorrow- 
 fully, ^' and so's mother. And a letter 
 ;ame out from England to say that I was 
 to be sent over there directly, to an uncle 
 and aunt who live in London, and Bloss 
 was asked to take charge of me on the 
 ship — that's all." 
 
 " What's the name of the uncle to 
 whom you are going T
 
 FELL O W- TRA VELLERS. 23 
 
 '^ I forget, but it's written clown here." 
 And a crumpled envelope is produced from 
 the child's pocket. 
 
 *' G. B RABAzoN, Esq., 
 
 E n Square, 
 
 London, S. W.,'' 
 
 is read out by Sir Gordon, followed by the 
 exclamation : 
 
 <^ Why he's a relation of mine too ! At 
 least, he married a cousin of mine, which 
 I suppose makes him one also." 
 
 " Oh ! then do tell me, are there any 
 other little boys or girls there, or anything 
 nice { 
 
 "There are no little girls there, I'm 
 afraid, and no little boys either. Both 
 Mr. Brabazon's daughters are grown up. 
 Which do you like best, boys or girls ?"
 
 24 KINGSDENE. 
 
 " Oh ! boys, of course," responds Miss 
 Stella unhesitatingly. "What are the 
 Miss Brabazons like, please T 
 
 '^ In what way do you mean T 
 
 '* Are they fine ladies and go to a great 
 many parties, and do they prink and 
 pretty themselves very much, and do ihisT' 
 Here an artistic rub on each small cheek 
 shows that the mysteries of the toilette 
 are not an utterly unrevealed secret to 
 Miss Stella Ray. 
 
 *^Well, I hardly know," returns Sir 
 Gordon hesitatingly, conscious in his own 
 mind that the child has accidentally hit on 
 an exact description of the Misses Amelia 
 and Clara Brabazon. "But I dare say 
 you'll like them very much." 
 
 " Oh no, I shan't. At least, I don't 
 mean to if I can help it."
 
 FELLO W-TRA VELLERS. 25: 
 
 ^' But that's very silly of you if you 
 have got to live with them, Stella." 
 
 '^ Perhaps ;" and the child gives a care- 
 less shrug of her shoulders. ^' But not 
 one of them ever wrote a kind word 
 to mother w^hen she was dying and 
 wanted it ever so, and I'll hate them 
 as long as I live !" she adds vehemently^ 
 her eyes all ablaze with sudden excite- 
 ment. * 
 
 Sir Gordon wisely concludes that there 
 is more in this story than meets the eye, 
 and privately decides to inquire more 
 fully into its details the very first time 
 
 that he goes to see his relatives in E n 
 
 Square. In the meantime he purchases 
 picture papers without end to amuse his 
 little companion, and by the time the 
 afternoon is nearly gone and they are
 
 26 KINGSDENE. 
 
 rapidly Hearing their destination, both 
 have become the best of friends. 
 
 Stella's quaint comments on all subjects 
 in general, and her merry mischief with its 
 slight dash of shrewd, unchildish sarcasm, 
 amuse her companion immensely on the 
 whole ; and the picture of the struggling 
 artist's home in New York, with its few 
 short hours of joy and pleasure and its 
 endless days of toil and pain, is painted 
 vividly before him with all a child's un- 
 hesitating candour and remembrance of 
 small details. 
 
 That Claud Ray was an American 
 artist who had married an English girl 
 related to his (Sir Gordon's) own family, 
 he can gather ; but what the motive can 
 be which induces his most astute and 
 somewhat selfish cousin, Mr. Brabazon, to
 
 FELLO W-TRA VELLERS. 27 
 
 burden himself with the charge of a 
 friendless little orphan like Stella, entirely 
 passes his imagination. 
 
 He glances across at the child, who has 
 laid her head wearily down on her folded 
 hands as they rest on the cushioned ledge 
 of the railway-carriage, and a feeling of 
 sincere commiseration steals into his heart 
 at the thought of this poor little wild 
 mortal's fate, destined for the future to* be 
 caged in a cold uncongenial atmosphere of 
 starched propriety, with never a friend 
 of any sort to stand between her and 
 the changes and chances of this mortal 
 life. 
 
 *^ Stella," he says gently, *^are you tired'? 
 I'll put this rug round you and then you 
 €ould have half an hour's sleep before we 
 get into London."
 
 28 KINGSDENE. 
 
 '' No, thank you." 
 
 The tone is short, ahnost brusque, but 
 the child's eyes gUsten Hke a dog's when 
 it has received an unexpected caress. 
 
 " At this moment you are in exactly 
 the same attitude as that in my picture of 
 you, Stella ; a picture which I shall value 
 far more now than I ever did before. And 
 strange to say, when I first saw you this 
 morning on the deck of the City of 
 Montreal as she passed our steamer, you 
 were leaning your head on your hands in 
 just the same way then too." 
 
 " It seems so odd that you should 
 have one of our pictures," says Stella 
 dreamily ; the one word '' our " showing 
 how complete had been the mutual love 
 and sympathy between the artist and his 
 little daughter.
 
 FELLOW-TRA VELLERS. 29 
 
 " I'm very glad I have, any way. And 
 I'll show it to you some day, if Mrs. 
 Brabazon will let me take you out for a 
 walk." 
 
 '' Take me out ? Oh ! would you 
 really T And Stella's head is raised from 
 its recumbent position with energetic 
 abruptness. ^^ I was just thinking that it 
 would be so lonesome in London with 
 everybody I hate ; but if I saw you, and 
 went for a walk, I'd be having a good 
 time at once !" 
 
 "Very well, you may count on that 
 * good time ' for certain then, Stella, if so 
 small a thing can give you one. I wish I 
 were your age, child !" 
 
 ^'Whyr 
 
 *' Because it would take a deal more 
 than a walk or a picture to give me
 
 30 KINGSDENE. 
 
 what you call a * good time,' little 
 
 woman." 
 
 '' Then you've had it all good times, I 
 expect," observes Stella gravely. 
 
 ^' There's a good deal in that, I dare say. 
 Miss Philosophy ! What a pretty name 
 yours is, Stella ; but I like the word 'Star'' 
 even better." 
 
 "So did father. He always called me 
 Star." 
 
 '' Then I shall say it sometimes too. 
 Star, if you'll let me. The name seems to 
 suit you somehow ; to-day, when I first 
 saw you, your hair made a bright spot on 
 the deck of that great steamer just like 
 a little morning star, and now in this, dull 
 red sunset it lightens up like an evening 
 one !" And Gordon Leslie looks kindly 
 at the small downcast face of the forlorn
 
 FELLO W-TRA VELLERS. 
 
 little figure opposite him. '* Here we are 
 at the very end of our journey at last/' he 
 adds, as the train slackens its pace and 
 wends its way through the masses of 
 buildings and roofs of miserable, ill- 
 ventilated houses crowded toofether on 
 each side of the railway lines which 
 intersect the great Metropolis. ^' Good- 
 bye, Stella," he says, as the little girl 
 rouses herself wearily and looks anxiously 
 out of window as if to judge of the sort 
 of appearance her future city of residence 
 presents. 
 
 The rays of the setting sun light up her 
 hair in a blaze of red gold, and the child 
 looks almost beautiful as for once the 
 usual '' devil-may-care " expression on her 
 face gives way to a softer one of honest 
 loving gratitude as she says :
 
 32 KINGSDENE. 
 
 '* You've given me a real good time 
 to-day, and I shan't care now what my 
 uncle and aunt and cousins are like. 
 Good-bye, Sir Gordon," and the small 
 pale face is held up to his to be kissed, 
 with all a child's frankness. 
 
 Gordon Leslie stoops and kisses her 
 with the words, '' Eemember, Stella, if 
 you ever want a friend you may always 
 trust in me ;" and then prepares to help 
 his little companion out on to the plat- 
 form, and to find those of his relatives who 
 would no doubt have come to meet her. 
 But no one is there to represent the 
 Brabazon household except a tall footman, 
 who intimates that the carriage sent to 
 fetch " Miss Bay " is standing lower down 
 the platform, and politely offers to find 
 her luggage if necessary.
 
 FELLOW-TRA VELLERS. ^^ 
 
 " One of my cousins might at least have 
 come to meet you !" says Sir Gordon in a 
 wrathful tone to Stella, as he takes her 
 through the bustling crowd down to where 
 Mr. Brabazon's carriage stands waiting. 
 
 " I don't care. I hate them !" answers 
 the child defiantly ; but by the sound of 
 her voice he can tell that the coldness of 
 her welcome in this strange land has gone 
 sadly home to her little heart, and a 
 feeling of sincere compassion comes over 
 him as he watches the carriage drive away, 
 carrying with it the forlorn and friendless 
 little mite which sits in a small black heaj) 
 in one of its comfortable corners. But 
 after so many long dull days at sea, the 
 bustle and noise of the streets soon raise 
 Miss Stella's spirits to their naturally high 
 pitch, and by the time that the carriage 
 
 VOL. I. 3
 
 34 KINGSDENE. 
 
 draws up at her uncle's door and the tall 
 footman announces her arrival by a loud 
 and prolonged rat-tat-tat, the child is quite 
 prepared to face any number of strange 
 faces and hated relatives, and her face has 
 assumed its usual mischievous gamin 
 look ; whilst not even the richness of the 
 thick velvet-pile carpets under her little 
 Bohemian foot, nor the splendour of the 
 large rooms into which she is solemnly 
 ushered, are able to awe her little soul in 
 the very smallest degree.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE NEW HOME. 
 
 ■^^ Golden days — where are they ? 
 Ask of childhood's years, 
 Still untouched by sorrow, 
 Still undimmed by tears : 
 Ah, they seek a phantom future, 
 Crowned with brighter, starry rays ; 
 Where are they, then, where are they, 
 Golden days r 
 
 3—2
 
 T is now ten days since little 
 Stella Ray's arrival en her 
 uncle's house, and she is sitting 
 with the rest of the family at luncheon in 
 
 the big dining-room at E n Square, a 
 
 meal which to herself at least means 
 dinner. Nor does it seem much less also 
 to the stout, handsome, elderly woman 
 who sits at the head of the table with 
 her back to the light, for she obviously 
 -carries out the truth of the saying that 
 '^ luncheon is the ladies' meal." Neither
 
 38 KINGSDENE. 
 
 does she forget to heaj^ viands of every 
 sort, wholesome or unwholesome, on the 
 plate of the little sable-clad girl sitting 
 beside her, and out of sheer gratitude for 
 Mrs. Brabazon's well-meant thousfh some- 
 what overpowering kindness, Stella Ray 
 does her best to consume some portion at 
 least of the delicacies showered upon 
 her. 
 
 On considering the matter seriously, the 
 latter young lady is obliged to own that, 
 as far as perfect liberty and careless kind- 
 ness go, she has little to complain of in 
 her present place of abode ; and if her 
 heart aches from loneliness and want of 
 companionship sometimes, and life in the 
 small dull schoolroom upstairs se ems- 
 lonely and sad enough, still there are 
 many favourable facts to be set against
 
 THE NEW HOME, j 39 
 
 the unfavourable ones, and, take it all in 
 all, she is far happier than she ever ex- 
 pected to be in her London home. 
 
 The chief drawback to this happiness 
 consists in the incessant snubbing she 
 receives at all hours of the day from her 
 eldest cousin, Miss Amelia, into whose 
 disfavour she has unfortunately fallen 
 through inadvertently alluding to some 
 of the latter's *^ toilette mysteries " befcre 
 an assembled circle of strangers. Her 
 younger cousin Clara also, though of too 
 apathetic a disposition to feel actively 
 unkind towards any one, invariably 
 followed her sister's lead by giving a 
 feeble, lisping echo to Amelia's sarcasms. 
 
 Mr. Brabazon, Stella's uncle and now 
 sole guardian, treated the little girl with 
 fair kindness on the Avhole, though too
 
 40 KINGSDENE. 
 
 selfish a man to trouble his head very 
 much over anything so uninteresting as 
 a child not yet in its teens, and his wife 
 fairly overpowered the little girl with 
 lavish kindness of the animal sort, i.e., 
 unbounded food, warmth, and clothes ; 
 but no ray of real womanly tenderness 
 or kind motherly and sisterly love was 
 ever offered to the little orphan cast 
 among them in all her lonely desolation, 
 and from firsb to last no thought of 
 '^ home " was ever connected in Stella 
 Ray's mind with the gorgeous house in 
 E n Square. 
 
 *^ Amelia, did you say that we could or 
 could not get that box at Covent Garden 
 to-night, my dear T inquires Mrs. Braba- 
 zon in a tone of lazy interest. 
 
 " I really don't know, mamma/' responds
 
 THE NEW HOME. 41 
 
 Miss Brabazon, a look of vexation crossing 
 her handsome face as she speaks. '^ We 
 met Gordon Leslie in Bond Street this 
 morning as Clara and I were coming back 
 from Madame Pouff's, and he said he'd go 
 everywhere to try and get us one." 
 
 " I like that boy," exclaims Mrs. Braba- 
 zon in her loud hearty voice. "' He's 
 ^ood-natured, and he's a thorough gentle- 
 man, which is rare nowadays." 
 
 *^ What has he done to gain so much of 
 jour favour, mamma ?" asks Amelia. 
 " Evidently he has taken care to stroke 
 your pet cat and yourself the right way 
 and not the wrong," she adds sarcas- 
 tically. 
 
 ''Yeth, that he hath," lisps Clara in 
 €cho. 
 
 " He's done nothing in the world, my
 
 42 KINGSDENE. 
 
 dears, except to show me ordinary courtesy 
 and civility on all occasions. But I am 
 an old enough woman to know that it's 
 not every young man of four-and-twenty 
 who not only can but will remember to be 
 civil to old bodies like myself. What do' 
 you think, Miss Stella, eh T 
 
 "■ I think that Sir Gordon would," says 
 Stella half shyly. 
 
 ^* How on earth do you know anything 
 about him, child f inquires Miss Brabazon 
 in a contemptuous tone. 
 
 ^^ Because he brought me all the way 
 from Liverpool to London the other day, 
 when I came here, and so I know that he's 
 what Aunt Brabazon says." 
 
 ^' What did she say ?" cross-questions^ 
 Amelia teasingly. 
 
 '^ That he's a gentleman."
 
 THE NE W HOME. \ 43 
 
 '^ There's nothing so extraordinary in 
 that, you httle monkey ! Isn't every one 
 you see here a gentleman T 
 ■ '^ No," says Stella, irate but determined, 
 *^ that was a very mean man who dined 
 here last night !" 
 
 " You little wretch ! what are you talk- 
 ing about ? Why do you call Sir Soapy 
 Bland a mean man V exclaims Miss Amelia 
 in tones of excitement. • 
 
 ^^ So he is a mean man ! I heard him 
 promise that pug dog of his to Clara before 
 you came down, and then when you went 
 at him and asked for it, he jumped 
 round right away and said you should 
 have it." 
 
 ^' It's not true 1" exclaims the outraged 
 Amelia. 
 
 '' It ith true that he did promithe it to
 
 44 KINGSDENE. 
 
 me firtht," lisps Clara tearfully. '^ And of 
 courthe he'd have given it me if you 
 hadn't gone and atliked for it," she adds 
 with an indignant whimper. 
 
 *' He wanted to give it to me all along, 
 only he was too shy," persists Amelia. 
 
 ^^ That's a good one 1" puts in Stella, on 
 whom the florid countenance and sapo- 
 naceous manners of the gentleman under 
 discussion had made anything but a 
 favourable impression. 
 
 " It wathn't kind of you, Amelia," 
 murmurs Clara in plaintive monotone. 
 
 '^ Bless me, what a fuss over nothing 1" 
 answers Miss Brabazon. ^^ Wait till the 
 dog comes and then we'll see who he's 
 meant for." 
 
 " He won't come at all," observes Stella 
 with a grave nod of the head, but her eyes
 
 THE NEW HOME. 45 
 
 shining in mischievous glee as she speaks.. 
 " Because just as I passed that little sofa 
 by the drawing-room door when Aunt 
 Brabazon told me to go to bed last night, 
 Sir Soapy was sitting on it with that 
 pretty Miss Rosewarden who was dressed 
 all in pink, and I heard what he said." 
 
 ^' What did he say T exclaims Miss 
 Brabazon with angry interest. 
 
 '^ That he had been obliged to promise 
 his pug to the Brabazon girls for the sake 
 of peace, but that he should tell them it 
 had died suddenly, and that she, the 
 pretty girl in pink, should have it this 
 very morning," answers Stella, with a nod 
 of her head at her two cousins, as much 
 as to say, '^ There's one for you two." 
 
 '^ I don't believe it, and you're a very 
 naughty little girl to listen to what other
 
 46 KINGSDENE. 
 
 people are saying when it doesn't concern 
 you," observes Miss Brabazon majesti- 
 cally. 
 
 '^ I didn't listen !" exclaims her small 
 antaofonist in hot indimiation. ^^ But he 
 spoke quite loud, and I couldn't help hear- 
 ing, any more than I could help hearing 
 you tell Captain Euchrismer that you 
 were going to take a walk alone in the 
 Square Gardens this afternoon !" 
 
 The look of passive enjoyment on her 
 sister's face at receipt of this last piece 
 of intelligence greatly increased Miss 
 Amelia's anger, and the thunder-cloud of 
 her ill-temper was just about to vent 
 itself in vials of wrath on her cousin's 
 mischievous head, when Mrs. Brabazon — - 
 who had been calmly reading the Morning 
 Post in utter oblivion of any passages of
 
 THE NEW HOME. 47 
 
 arms which it might please the members 
 of her family to indulge in — suddenly 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Here's Gordon Leslie himself, my 
 dears, so now we'll hear about our opera- 
 box." And a ring at the door-bell con- 
 firms her intelligence at once. 
 
 The ill-tempered look fades from Miss 
 Brabazon's face, whilst she smooths her 
 hair and feels if her collar is sitting 
 straight, with all the anxiety as to their 
 appearance usually shown by the weaker 
 sex when expecting the advent of the 
 stronger. Even Clara rouses herself so 
 far as to pull a chair up to the table for 
 the looked-for visitor, taking care that it 
 shall be placed in close proximity to her 
 own, and altogether it is very evident that 
 Sir Gordon Leslie is a relative who re-
 
 48 KINGSDENE. 
 
 ceives much favour from the Brabazon 
 family. 
 
 He is welcomed as if he had just 
 returjied from the Arctic expedition, 
 instead of a tour round the opera-box 
 commissioners in Bond Street, and with- 
 out waiting for the servants, Amelia helps 
 him to whatever is hottest in the shape 
 of luncheon still left on the table, whilst 
 Clara goes through the unparalleled 
 exertion of walking round the latter, to 
 fetch the jug of claret for his especial 
 benefit. She lost by this move, however, 
 for Amelia took advantage of her 
 temporary absence to make a pounce on 
 her chair, which was next their cousin, 
 a small piece of sisterly spite which 
 Clara resented by a more energetic glance 
 of contempt than one would have thought
 
 THE NEW HOME. 49 
 
 her vacant and unmeaning features were 
 capable of. 
 
 " Well, Stella, how does life go with 
 you?" asks Sir Gordon, pausing in the 
 consumption of a cotelette a la Reforme to 
 glance at the little dark face which is 
 watchinof him with anxious interest from 
 the farthest corner of the table. 
 
 ^'Yery well, thank you, Sir Gordon," 
 responds Stella cheerily, though a sad 
 misgiving is coming over her that the 
 promised walk with him to see her picture 
 is a forgotten episode in his mind. Some- 
 how this singularly good-looking young 
 gentleman, whose faultless dress has long 
 been a source of mingled admiration and 
 jealousy to all his masculine friends, looks 
 a very much less likely man to take a 
 little girl out for a walk, than did the 
 
 VOL. I. 4
 
 50 KINGSDENE. 
 
 cheery, begrimed, and travel-stained young 
 man in a rough shooting-coat, whose kind- 
 ness on their journey to town had so won 
 her heart. 
 
 '^Well, but Gordon, my dear," inter- 
 poses Mrs. Brabazon, " do tell us if you 
 have secured a box for us to-night ! The 
 girls are wild to go and hear this new 
 singer's debute 
 
 "Yes, I've got one all right, Mrs. 
 Brabazon, but it was by a great fluke. 
 All the world and his wife seem to want 
 to do the same thing to-night, which is 
 not only unfashionable, but extremely in- 
 convenient." 
 
 '' I suppothe it'th thith new singer that 
 every one wanths to see," lisps Clara, with 
 an engaging smile at her cousin. Un- 
 fortunately he is intent on scraping a
 
 THE NEW HOME. 51 
 
 small piece of butter off his coat-sleeve 
 which he has had the misfortune to deposit 
 there, so it is lost on him. 
 
 " Yes, it must be that, I should think ; 
 but one hears very contradictory accounts 
 of her." 
 
 "Tell us all you've heard," says Amelia 
 gushingly, and rising to change her seat 
 for one with its back to the light, having 
 become conscious that the fact of " lettiftg 
 her angry passions rise" has imparted a 
 more heightened colour to the tip of her 
 nose than is desirable or becoming. 
 
 " I don't remember much, I'm afraid, 
 Amelia," answers Sir Gordon. "She's a 
 Mademoiselle Ida Stocker, a Norw^egian, 
 as you know, and is supposed to be extra- 
 ordinarily good-looking, and to sing like a 
 nightingale. She appeared in Paris last 
 
 4—2 
 
 LIBRARY -- -'- ~ 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF nf^W^
 
 52 KINGSDENE. 
 
 winter and had a succes foil there, so they 
 say." 
 
 " Is she very young ?" asks AmeUa. 
 " No ; about three-and-twenty, I be- 
 lieve ;" which remark, though natural 
 in a man of four-and- twenty, appears 
 somewhat displeasing to the Misses 
 Brabazon. "Villiers, in the Guards, is 
 very much smitten with her, I hear ; and 
 now I think I've told you all that I know 
 about the young woman." 
 
 " You'll come and dine here and go 
 with us to-night, Gordon, won't you ?" 
 asks Mrs. Brabazon. 
 
 " Thank you very much, but I'm afraid 
 I can't, Mrs. Brabazon. I've asked a 
 man to dine with me at the W to- 
 night." 
 
 ** Well, but won't'you come to our box
 
 THE NEW HOME, 53 
 
 later, my dear boy ? After all the trouble 
 you've had in securing it for us you might 
 just as well make it useful, you know T 
 
 ^'Oh yes, do,"— and '^ Pleathe do "— 
 chorus the Brabazon maidens. 
 
 '* Very well, Mrs. Brabazon, I will 
 certainly manage it if I can," answers Sir 
 Gordon, with no great show of alacrity, 
 for, fond as he is of music, an evening 
 spent with relatives crowded into an 
 opera-box is not a prospect which holds 
 out much temptation to him. " I want to 
 ask a favour of you now, Mrs. Brabazon," 
 he continues, ^' and that is whether I may 
 take Miss Stella out for a walk this after- 
 noon { 
 
 " Take Stella out for a walk !" exclaims 
 Amelia, as if she could not believe her 
 own ears, and Clara's expressionless, light-
 
 54 KINGSDENE, 
 
 coloured eyes open wide in astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " Yes, we're great friends, your little 
 cousin and I," answers Gordon Leslie, 
 nodding kindly at Stella, who sits await- 
 ing the issue of this momentous crisis 
 with heart-felt anxiety. " And IVe got 
 a picture in my rooms that I wanted to 
 show her, Mrs. Brabazon, if you'll let 
 me take charofe of her for this after- 
 noon { 
 
 ^^ Of course you may, Gordon," responds 
 Mrs. Brabazon, in her usual tone of 
 careless kindness. ^' But must you go at 
 once ? Can't you come upstairs and talk 
 to us for a bit ?" 
 
 " Not now, I'm afraid. I've an ap- 
 pointment with a man at half-past three, 
 if Stella won't mind waiting in a shoj)
 
 THE NE W HOME, 5 5 
 
 for half a minute while 1 speak to 
 him/' 
 
 '^Then run along, Stella, and get dressed 
 as quick as you can, my dear," says her 
 aunt. 
 
 *^ And don't forget to see to that hole 
 in your stocking which Clara and I spoke 
 to you about this morning," calls out Miss 
 Brabazon sarcastically. 
 
 '^ Thank you, Amelia, I'll change ihy 
 stockings. But the hole wouldn't have 
 shown in any case, for I went into your 
 room this morning and blacked my heel 
 with that stuff which you use when you're 
 dressing for a ball, you know ;" and Miss 
 Stella looks significantly at her cousin's 
 beautifully and darkly- pencilled brows and 
 eyelashes, and finally beats a retreat with 
 flying colours, noting with delight, as she
 
 56 KINGSDENE. 
 
 closes the dining-room door, the super- 
 natural gravity of Sir Gordon's face, which 
 is quite sufficient to convince the imp that 
 he has thoroughly taken in her parting 
 shot into the enemy's quarters.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 JE ME SOUVIENDRAI. 
 
 " Yet so it is with most of our lives. "We play our 
 parts without exactly knowing how or why. In the 
 midst of all we deem duty, business, pleasure, we h&ve 
 rare intervals of tragedy and comedy, and these few 
 moments fashion all our futures. Ten to one we never 
 breathe a word about them. To our friends they are as 
 if they were not ; to us they have been potent as life 
 and death."— Henry Cuewen.
 
 RS. BRABAZON," begins Sir 
 Gordon, the instant the door 
 is closed, considerately turn- 
 ing his eyes from Amelia, who is 
 vigorously fanning her flushed counten- 
 ance ; '^ I want you to tell me about 
 this little girl, for if she's your niece she 
 ought to be some sort of relation to me 
 too, oughtn't she ? Who is she, and what 
 is she ?" 
 
 " No, she's no relation to you, Gordon, 
 because she is only my niece by marriage.
 
 6o ^ KINGSDENE. 
 
 Who she is I can easily explain, for she's 
 simply the daughter of Claud Ray, an 
 artist and an American. He ran away 
 with the only daughter of my eldest 
 brother-in-law, William Brabazon, and 
 though he never allowed them one penny, 
 and they were in desperate poverty, I 
 fancy the poor souls were happy enough in 
 their way. William Brabazon never saw his 
 daughter or her husband again, and they 
 died last spring in New York within three 
 months of each other. After that some 
 artist friends of Claud Ray's took charge 
 of the child temporarily, and wrote to her 
 grandfather about her, which letter 
 reached him on what proved to be his own 
 death-bed. And at the last moment he 
 altered his will and left that beautiful old 
 place Kingsdene in W shire, with five
 
 JE ME SOUVIENDRAL 6i 
 
 thousand a year attached, to this Uttle 
 granddaughter, and named my husband 
 as her guardian till she should come of 
 age, which she is to do at the age of 
 nineteen, according to the terms of her 
 grandfather's will. Of course we sent to 
 America for her at once, and her friends 
 in New York very kindly found her an 
 excellent chaperon to travel over with " 
 (here Gordon Leslie smiles to himself at tRe 
 recollection of "Bloss"); ''and now I've 
 got masters for her and am doing my best 
 to educate the child properly for her future 
 position in life." 
 
 " So this insignificant little girl is owner 
 of that beautiful old place Kings dene," 
 observes Sir Gordon musingly. 
 
 "Doesn't it seem too absurd?" comments 
 Miss Brabazon severely.
 
 62 KINGSDEiVE, 
 
 '^ Certainly one can hardly imagine this 
 mischievous, dark-faced little gipsy as the 
 chatelaine of Kingsdene ! But though 
 she's got such a lot of devil in her, she'll 
 make a charming woman some day, unless 
 I am greatly mistaken." 
 
 ''Well, I'm very glad some one sees 
 anything to admire in her, for I don't," 
 says Miss Amelia. " Such a hard-hearted, 
 cheeky little monkey !" 
 
 '' Meaning me, I suppose," calmly ob- 
 serves a small voice at the latter's elbow. 
 '' Well, good-bye, Amelia and Clara ; and 
 don't keep Captain Euchrismer waiting," 
 she adds in a confidential undertone to her 
 eldest cousin, " for the Square Gardens 
 are as hot as Pandemonium, and you 
 know he can't afford to freckle much 
 more."
 
 JE ME SOUVIENDRAL 63 
 
 " How I hate Amelia !" bursts out 
 Stella, the instant that Sir Gordon and 
 she are safely landed outside the house, 
 and the hall- do or has shut behind them 
 with a bang. *^ Don't you T 
 
 '^ No — o — o ; not exactly," answers 
 Gordon Leslie, with a great sacrifice of 
 truth to prudence. " Don't you get on 
 well with your cousins, Stella ?" he adds 
 inquiringly. • 
 
 ^^ Oh ! we rub along. They snub me 
 and I worry them ; so it's all fair and turn 
 about." 
 
 " But haven't you made friends with 
 any one of them then T 
 
 " No. Aunt Brabazon is very kind to 
 me and I like Ifier^ but I hate the others. 
 And there isn't so much as a dog in the 
 house for me to talk to," continues Stella
 
 64 KINGSDENE. ^ 
 
 despairingly, '^ though I do coax the cook's 
 cat to sit with me sometimes upstairs. 
 But then she's only half a cat." 
 
 " Haifa cat ? I don't understand ?" 
 
 " I mean she can't purr, poor thing. I 
 may stroke her and stroke her ever so 
 much, but she doesn't purr. I suppose 
 some of her works have gone wrong in- 
 side," says Stella dejectedly. 
 
 The interior economy of the domestic 
 cat not having formed part of Sir Gordon 
 Leslie's studies, he is unable to offer any 
 solution to this unfortunate fact, so contents 
 himself with an observation of good-natured 
 pity : 
 
 '' Poor little girl ! You must have a 
 lonely life of it altogether T 
 
 " Yes, I feel badly at times," answers 
 his companion in quaint. New World
 
 JE ME SOUVIENDRAI. 65 
 
 phraseology. " But I'm not going to 
 think of it to-day, for I've got a long free 
 afternoon, and no one to worry me," adds 
 the child with a joyous laugh. 
 
 '^ Well then, we'll step out, and I'll just 
 talk to this man I want to see on business 
 for a moment, and then we'll go to my 
 rooms and I'll show you your picture ; 
 and then we'll have tea, and I'll take yoja 
 home by the Park, if you like, so that you 
 can see the carriages." 
 
 ^' I don't care for carriages," answers 
 Stella with the ungracious candour of 
 childhood, '^but I should like to see your 
 homo very much/' she adds with all its 
 genuine honesty also. 
 
 An hour later and the child is standing 
 entranced before the often-discussed picture 
 of herself, which occupies a prominent 
 
 VOL. I. 5
 
 66 KINGSDENE. 
 
 place in the comfortable rooms in B 
 
 Street, that are more of home to Sir 
 Gordon Leslie than is likely to be any 
 other spot on the face of the earth. For 
 though well enough off compared to many, 
 still he is no millionaire, nor is he owner 
 of any large landed estate ; and as, in 
 addition to this, he has neither kith nor 
 kin belonging to him, there is nothing to 
 be wondered at in the fact of these 
 luxuriously - furnished bachelor's rooms 
 being more homelike to him than they 
 could possibly be to those luckier ones in 
 the world, who have many abiding-places 
 and havens of rest in parent's, sister's, or 
 brother's houses. 
 
 The picture was a striking one enough, 
 but more so from the artistic grace of the 
 sketch than from the finish of the colour-
 
 JE ME SOUVIENDRAI. 67 
 
 ing. The natural, weary abandon of the 
 child's attitude as it lay in the reed-woven 
 hammock, with its face laid on its smaJl 
 folded hands, and one bare rosy foot thrust 
 out over the edge, was in itself a triumph 
 of art ; whilst the contrast of her tawny 
 red-gold hair, with the deep bright green 
 of the myrtle grove which made a back- 
 ground to the picture, gave to it a gloriotis 
 dash of colour, and increased the pictu- 
 resqueness of the whole effect. 
 
 It needed not the small and unpretend- 
 inof " C. R." in the corner to convince 
 Stella then and there that the picture 
 before her was no other than the identical 
 sketch of herself done by her idolising 
 young father when once, and for the only 
 time in his sad, short life, he had taken a 
 holiday with wife and child far away from 
 
 5—2
 
 68 KINGSDENE. 
 
 the turmoil and clamour of the great city 
 of New York, in search of that rest and 
 peace which was only to come to him, after 
 a long and weary waiting, through the 
 portals of death itself. 
 
 " Do you remember the picture. Star ?" 
 asks Gordon Leslie in a low tone, half 
 fearful of the deep wrapt look on the 
 child's face. 
 
 " Yes," she answers quick and short ; 
 but there is a deeper meaning in this one 
 monosyllable than in many a longer 
 sentence. 
 
 " Come and sit in tliis comfortable chair 
 by the open window and tell me all about 
 New York, will you T asks Sir Gordon, 
 kindly trying to turn her attention from what 
 was evidently still a painful reminiscence. 
 " And then we'll have tea presently, and
 
 JE ME SOUVIENDRAL 69 
 
 you must pour it out as you did for me 
 at Liverpool the other morning — do you 
 remember T 
 
 '^Yes, that I do. And Bloss's rage 
 too. Do you remember Bloss T asks 
 Stella with her face all sunshine once 
 more. 
 
 " Poor Bloss I you gave her rather a 
 rough time of it during the voyage I 
 expect, young person !" 
 
 "" Sometimes I did," admits Miss Bay 
 candidly. 
 
 '* And how do you like your new lessons 
 and masters, Stella T 
 
 '* I don't like them, of course ; but I 
 know so little and I want to know so 
 much, that I try not to mind them." 
 
 " That's wise of you," answers Sir 
 Gordon, somewhat surprised at the serious
 
 70 KINGSDENE, 
 
 y^ 
 
 tone in which his companion spoke. Evi- 
 dently there was a deeper side to this 
 mischievous gamin nature of hers. 
 
 '' Why do you want to know so much, 
 Stella T he continues. 
 
 " I thought it made people feel happier, 
 perhaps," says the child wistfully. 
 
 *' No ; you're wrong there, dear. The 
 saying that ^ knowledge comes with sorrow 
 of heart ' is a very true one. Don't look 
 so surprised, little woman ; I wasn't 
 thinking exactly of the sort of knowledge 
 which you mean, though." 
 
 " Oh !" says Stella, much relieved, but 
 still more puzzled. ^^ Didn't it make you 
 much happier when you had learnt a great. 
 deal, and were grown up and knew every- 
 thing r 
 
 "I'm afraid I never did learn a orreat
 
 JE ME SOUVIENDRAI. 71 
 
 deal, Star," replies Sir Gordon, laughing. 
 ^' And when I ^ was grown up and knew 
 everything,' as you put it, it most cer- 
 tainly didn't make me either a better or a 
 happier man," he adds with some bitter- 
 ness. 
 
 " Then I expect you learnt the wrong 
 things," suggested Stella mildly. 
 
 '^ Perhaps so." 
 
 "Do you suppose that Amelia a!id 
 Clara know a great deal ?" pursues Miss 
 Ray, with whom this subject is evidently 
 popular. 
 
 " I should think they knew a good deal 
 for their age," answers Gordon Leslie, 
 wondering in his heart what Belgravian 
 daughters ^o not know ! 
 
 " They chaff well, don't they T inquires 
 Miss Kay with much interest.
 
 72 KINGSDENE. 
 
 " I don't know. Yes, I suppose they 
 do. But, my dear Stella, to chaff well 
 isn't the aim and object of a lady's edu- 
 cation." 
 
 " I heard a lady say so yesterday after- 
 noon to Amelia at five o'clock tea, and I 
 asked Amelia afterwards, and she said 
 this lady had travelled very much, and 
 had had three husbands, so she must know 
 a great deal, mustn't she T 
 
 " Truly she must !" answers Sir Gordon 
 in a tone of deep conviction; '^but don't 
 you try to copy the example of fools of 
 women like that one, Star." 
 
 ^^ I wish I knew who or what to copy," 
 says the latter despairingly. 
 
 " Don't copy any one, child, if you take 
 my advice. Go your own line, only see 
 that it is a straight one, and try to keep as
 
 JE ME SOUVIENDRAL 73 
 
 honest and true at heart as you can. 
 There, that's all the advice 1 can give you, 
 and I'm not sure that I ever offered 
 even so much as that to any one else 
 before." 
 
 " I won't forget," answers Stella reso- 
 lutely, with a look in her brown eyes like 
 that in a dog's which lias been given some- 
 thing of its master's to guard and keep 
 watch over. 
 
 *' Here comes tea," says Sir Gordon, as 
 his servant brings in a comfortable little 
 table with its attendant tea-tray, and 
 places it beside them in the window — 
 showing that this wa^= an habitual indul- 
 gence of his master's. " You pour it out, 
 Stella, please." 
 
 '''' I dare say you ne /or had tea poured 
 out for you before T observes Miss Stella
 
 74 KINGSDENE. 
 
 with confidence. "' As you say you haven't 
 got a mother or sisters 1" 
 
 " No, I haven't/' answers her com- 
 panion, wisely allowing one answer to 
 stand for both questions. 
 
 ^' Shall you really go to the opera to- 
 night, Sir Gordon, or were you only 
 * making believe ' when you said so to 
 Aunt Brabazon T 
 
 " Which do vou think, Stella ?" he 
 asks, with inward amusement at the 
 child's sharpness in having detected his 
 prevarications. 
 
 " Well, I think you don't mean to go, 
 for you looked as if you didn't." 
 
 ''Do you think they all saw that too ?" 
 inquires Sir Gordon, somewhat crestfallen. 
 Like every gentle ma q of perfect manners, 
 he prides himself on being able to " mentir
 
 yE ME SOUVIENDRAI. 75 
 
 comme un dentiste " (or, vulgarly speaking, 
 to '' lie like a black ") with deserved 
 success. 
 
 ^' Not they, bless you ! They see 
 nothing except what they want to see." 
 
 ^^ I'm not sure that I shan't go after all, 
 though," continues Gordon Leslie. *^ For 
 its ' Faust ' to-niofht, and not even the 
 
 Brab I mean, nothing could spoil 
 
 that." 
 
 *^ No ; not even the Brabazons, I sup- 
 pose," assents his companion with a mis- 
 chievous chuckle. 
 
 " You won't tell them what I said, 
 will you, Star?' begs Sir Gordon con- 
 tritely. 
 
 '^ No, I think not. At least not unless 
 Amelia is very knock-me-down. But T 
 don't suppose I shall see her at all to-
 
 76 KINGSDENE. 
 
 night, and I dare say I shall have for- 
 gotten it by to-morrow morning." 
 
 '' I hope so," remarks Sir Gordon fer- 
 vently, who feels by no means as certain 
 of this fact as he could wish. '^ But it's 
 time we were going now, Star, so get on 
 your hat and let's make a start." 
 
 As they near the door Stella Ray stops 
 short, and giving a look of regret at the 
 comfortable chairs and cosy tea-table by 
 the open Avindow, she clasps her little thin 
 hands^ and with a deep sigh of realised 
 happiness exclaims : 
 
 " I have had a good time this after- 
 noon !" 
 
 '^ I'm glad of it, child," answers her 
 companion, almost touched by the tone of 
 deep gratitude in Avhich she speaks. 
 ''And if I were not going abroad in a
 
 JE ME SOUVIENDRAL 77 
 
 month or two for a very long time we'd 
 have plenty more teas together." 
 
 *^ Are you going away T asks Stella 
 sorrowfully. 
 
 " Very soon I am." 
 
 " Oh dear ! how badly I shall feel 
 then !" 
 
 " No, you won't, little woman. Re- 
 member you are to work hard at all the 
 new lessons, so that I shall find you quite 
 a learned young lady when next we meet ; 
 and there are your riding lessons, too, 
 don't forget. You won't have time to 
 miss any one." 
 
 " Yes, I shall," answers Stella in a tone 
 of sad conviction. 
 
 " Besides, it's the way of the world to 
 
 forget,* which is one more of the lessons 
 
 you will learn some day, I fear, child !
 
 78 KINGSDENE. 
 
 But here we are at your own doorstep 
 again, so good-bye, Stella." 
 
 '^ Good-bye, Sir Gordon, and thank you 
 ever so much," says Stella, with a suspicious 
 glistening in her honest young eyes as she 
 slowly enters the Brabazon portals ; whilst 
 her companion, courteously lifting his hat 
 to her, strolls away with the satisfactory 
 feeling of having anyway done a good- 
 natured action, though he has spent his 
 whole afternoon in the society of only a 
 a child.
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 '' A NEW ' MARGUERITE. 
 
 J 5J 
 
 " There lived a singer in France of old, 
 By the tideless, dolorous midland sea. 
 In a land of sand, and ruin, and gold, 
 
 There shone one woman, and none but she. 
 And finding life for her love's sake fail. 
 Being fain to see her, he bade set sail, 
 Touched land, and saw her as life grew cold, 
 And praised God, seeing ; and so died he." 
 
 Truimjyh of Time.
 
 AH away under the pine-crested 
 mountains of the Norse- land, 
 stood the humble dwelling of 
 painted wood which Hans Stocker had 
 built for himself with his own hands many 
 years ago, ere time had bent his form and 
 furrowed his brow, or old age had weak- 
 ened the sinews of his spare powerful 
 frame. 
 
 A hardy old Norwegian was Hans, and 
 the large family of tall, stalwart sons and 
 lithe, handsome daughters which called 
 
 VOL. I. 6
 
 KTNGSDENE. 
 
 him father, was one to make his aged 
 heart beat proudly as he watched them 
 toihng unweariedly through the burden 
 and heat of a long summer's day, one and 
 all intent on doing his or her share of the 
 allotted work which was to bring pros- 
 perity and plenty to the humble home of 
 the Stocker family. 
 
 Mother there was none, for she had 
 died when her last baby was brought into 
 the world, on the wildest, bitterest, Christ- 
 mas Eve that could be remembered in all 
 the country round for many years ; but the 
 eldest girl in the family had taken upon 
 herself all the cares of the household, and 
 had proved an honest, loving substitute 
 for their lost mother to the little brothers 
 and sisters depending on her. Now she 
 was a careworn, elderly woman, whilst
 
 " A NEW marguerite: " 83 
 
 they were still in the heyday of their 
 youth, but not one whit did she begrudge 
 the years of toil and trouble, and the long 
 life of self-sacrifice, which her care of them 
 had entailed upon her. 
 
 One summer's night, when all the res\ 
 'of the household were sleeping the sleep 
 which only comes to those who have 
 laboured hard and long from dawn to 
 ■sunset, Hans Stocker stood outside the 
 door of their home conversing earnestly 
 with his eldest daughter. 
 
 A strange incident had come to pass 
 that day, inasmuch as a stranger, who had 
 heard the glorious voice of Ida, the 
 youngest born of the family, singing an 
 old Norse legend as she followed the 
 cattle down from the mountains above, 
 had come and offered Hans red gold 
 
 6—2
 
 84 KINGSDENE. 
 
 down if he would allow him to take his 
 daughter away and make a singer of 
 her. 
 
 At first the old man had sternly declined 
 to entertain the idea for a moment — '' selling 
 his daughter" he had called it with con- 
 temptuous brevity ; but slowly and surely 
 the temptation which haunts men almost 
 from their birth to their grave, the tempta- 
 tion of making money, had insidiously 
 stolen its way into Hans' mind, and it 
 was with an undefined feeling of im- 
 patience that he now stood listening to 
 the anxious persuasions of his elder 
 daughter to let the stranger go with a 
 simple God speed, but to keep the little 
 sister and daug^hter safe at home under 
 her father's roof. 
 
 " The child is too beautiful to go
 
 A NEW 'marguerite:" 85 
 
 amongst strangers, father," murmured 
 Christine anxiously. 
 
 '' Not when she is a Stocker," answered 
 the old man proudly. For peasants 
 though they were, an unblemished name 
 and an untarnished reputation, had been 
 the portion of the Stockers from time 
 immemorial. 
 
 ^* It is so far across the sea," con- 
 tinues Christine, '' and she is so young 
 to go out into the world all alone." 
 
 " Did not this stranger say he would 
 bring his own wife up from the great 
 town which lies beyond the mountains, 
 herself to take charge of the girl ? Hast 
 thou no pride, Christine ? What if thy 
 sister were to become a great singer, and 
 to sing before princes, and kings, and 
 queens, would not that content thee, girl ?"
 
 86 KINGSDENE. 
 
 Christine shook her head sadly, and 
 the weird brio^htness of the " northern 
 Hghts " 2^1aying over her head seemed 
 less unreal to her mind than did the 
 dazzling hopes and prophecies which the 
 old man laid before her. 
 
 He was too shrewd a judge of character 
 to speak of gold or gain to any one of so 
 single-minded a nature as Christine ; but 
 in his heart he already saw the stranger's- 
 red gold laid out in numerous additions, 
 to his flock and herd, and who knew but 
 what his daughter's voice might be the 
 means of bringing wealth and comfort to 
 him in his old as^e at last ? 
 
 So it was decreed that the beautiful 
 youngest born Ida should be given over 
 to the stranger's care, and should go to 
 far-off foreign lands and become a singer
 
 " A NEW ' marguerite: " 87 
 
 there. Christine's eyes were bhnded with 
 tears, when, for the last time, on one 
 bright summer's morning, she braided the 
 pale gold tresses of her fair young sister, 
 and decked the heavy plait lying on each 
 shoulder with a little bow of coloured 
 ribbon, putting on her at the same time 
 the simple green dress which had been her 
 best for many a year. 
 
 Calmly, almost coldly, the young 'girl 
 stood there, for the last time surrounded 
 by those who had been her care-takers and 
 play-fellows from her birth, and a pang 
 shot through the heart of Christine whilst 
 watching the careless indifference of the 
 girl's look as she gave a farewell glance at 
 the humble wooden dwelling which had 
 been her birthplace, and at the rocks and 
 streams and forest of fir-trees, that as yet
 
 88 KINGSDENE. 
 
 had been all the world to her. Evidently 
 she inherited her father's ambition and 
 love for visionary day-dreams, for her last 
 words to her weeping sister were : 
 
 '^ Comfort thee, Christine, and thou 
 ehalt yet hear of me as a great singer, 
 and I Avill send gold enough home to 
 make you all so rich, so rich !" 
 
 But Christine only covered her face and 
 sobbed aloud at the loss of the fair young 
 sister she would never see more. 
 
 Ida's prophecy came true, when after 
 four years of hard study and unceasing 
 application, she had made a triumphant 
 debut in one of our European capitals, and 
 had sent back what seemed a small fortune 
 to her old father in his far away Northern 
 land. Old Hans chuckled as he carried 
 home the bag of money from the big town
 
 " A NE w ' marguerite: " 89 
 
 beyond the mountains, which was only 
 accessible when summer's heat had melted 
 the snows that lay between it and the 
 valley inhabited by the Stockers ; and 
 even Christine laughed and looked quite 
 dazzled as the bright gold pieces were 
 shaken out one by one before her eyes, for 
 the winter had been a hard one and their 
 straits had been sore. 
 
 " I wish the child had written me* one 
 line onty," murmured she to herself sadly. 
 ^^ Neighbour Peter's wife would have read 
 it to me for sure. But I suppose she has 
 forgotten, she was so young," said 
 Christine pitifully. 
 
 It is six years now^ since Hans Stocker's 
 ■daughter Ida had left her home to become 
 a singer, and gone out into the wdde world;
 
 go KINGSDENE. 
 
 and after a most successful season durinsr 
 the winter months in Paris, she is now ta 
 face the ordeal of appearing before an 
 Enoflish audience, the coldest and one of 
 the most critical in the world, as " Mar- 
 guerite," in Gounod's glorious masterpiece. 
 
 The crowded state of the house and its- 
 unusually brilliant appearance makes it 
 very evident that some attraction out of 
 the common is offered at Covent Garden 
 to-night ; and Sir Gordon Leslie has- 
 scarcely time to regret the last half of a 
 pet cigar which he had heroically sacrificed 
 in the fear of entering the Brabazons' box 
 too late for Marguerite's first appearance 
 on the stage, ere that event itself comes 
 to pass. 
 
 When Mephistopheles shows Faust the 
 vision of the maiden whose love he has.
 
 "A NEW marguerite: " 91 
 
 promised him, and the form of Marguerite 
 appears seated at her spinning-wheel in a 
 pale, weird, shimmery light, a low murmur 
 of applause sweeps over the entire house. 
 Gloriously beautiful without doubt is the 
 new Marguerite, and as the vision fades 
 away, more than one there present would 
 be ready to sympathise with Faust's reck- 
 less bargain of his own soul in exchange 
 for the promised love of the beautiful 
 peasant girl, Goethe's luckless heroine. 
 
 " Let's see her act, and hear her sing, 
 before we decide on going into raptures 
 over the fair Norwegian," said Sir Gordon 
 critically. 
 
 But even he could find little fault with 
 the fair-haired Marguerite as she sang the 
 well-known '' Jewel song " in her high, 
 clear, silvery voice, that sounded like the
 
 92 KINGSDENE. 
 
 bells of a mountain church heard far away 
 amonofst the hills. Nor could the most 
 critical observer detect the slightest 
 nervousness or want of harmony in the 
 charming, natural grace of manner shown 
 by the new actress in every gesture and 
 movement of her evidently most carefully 
 studied part; and as the curtain went 
 down on the moonlit garden scene, and on 
 Marguerite's answer to her lover's sere- 
 nade, a thunder of applause shook the 
 house from ceiling to floor, and time after 
 time was the new singer brought before 
 the curtain, bowing gracefully and coldly 
 as ever to the excited audience which was 
 giving her so enthusiastic a welcome. 
 
 *' Yes, she's good-looking enough," 
 assents Gordon Leslie, in answer to a 
 remark from a friend of his, as both men
 
 " ^ NEW ' MARG UERITE: " 95 
 
 stroll out of Mrs. Brabazon's box, to take 
 a look at the house. 
 
 " Good-looking ? is that all you can 
 say, Leslie ?" returns his companion 
 hotly. *' Why, the woman's positively 
 lovely !" 
 
 " I dare say she is, my dear fellow,'* 
 says Sir Gordon indifferently, ^^but she 
 looks too much like an iceberg to suit my 
 ideas ; and I doubt her acting the finale 
 to Faust's pretty little ramp half as well 
 as she acted the beginning." 
 
 " Take care ! here comes Dick Villiers, 
 and he'll call you out if he hears you 
 making dis]3araging remarks on the only 
 woman he ever loved !" 
 
 " If Dick likes to make a fool of himself, 
 that's no reason I should do the same," 
 observes Sir Gordon carelessly. ^' He
 
 94 KINGSDENE. 
 
 looks a bit in earnest though," he adds, 
 as a tall, dark, gentlemanly-looking man 
 hurries past them, with obvious inattention 
 to every object save the one which is en- 
 grossing all his thoughts at that minute, 
 and which, truth to tell, has been running 
 riot in his brain for many a month past. 
 
 *'Will he marry her, I wonder?" ob- 
 serves Gordon Leslie's companion in a 
 tone of vague speculation. 
 
 ^' Hardly, I should hope. Though if 
 Dick's monkey is up, there's no saying 
 what he won't do. Come on, for they're 
 turning down the gas with a view to the 
 church scene." 
 
 The great expectations which the new 
 dinger's talent had raised in the minds of 
 her hearers, were scarcely realised as the 
 opera progressed. Though the inexpres-
 
 "A NEW ' marguerite: " 95 
 
 sible beauty of her voice was more than 
 €ver felt as Marguerite tries vainly to 
 make her prayers to Heaven heard 
 through the wild angry chorus of 
 Mephistopheles and his demon satellites, 
 there was a decided want of power in 
 Mademoiselle Ida's rendering of the 
 agonised, passionate despair of Faust's 
 heart-broken victim. 
 
 True, each pose and gesture showed the 
 actress's consummate skill in the reading 
 of the part allotted to her, but the irre- 
 sistible sway of real deep passionate feeling 
 which carries all before it, was somehow 
 wa.nting, and it was the actress, not the 
 woman, who saved the conclusion of the 
 opera from mediocrity. Still it was an 
 undoubted success which this new Mar- 
 guerite had won, and though Sir Gordon
 
 96 KINGSDENE. 
 
 Leslie put down his glasses with the care- 
 less criticism, ^^ She's beautiful, but she 
 can't feel',' and though more formidable 
 critics condemned the want of powder and 
 passion in her acting, Mademoiselle Ida's 
 marvellous beauty and glorious voice held 
 their own to the end ; and long and loud 
 were the calls before the curtain and the 
 torrents of applause showered upon the fair 
 Norwegian. 
 
 When off the stage, few would have 
 recognised in the tall, graceful woman, 
 with her cold, inanimate manner, the 
 bright peasant girl whose voice had made 
 the hills and valleys ring again in the old 
 Norse-land. Still, as flushed with triumph 
 she bent low before the tumultuous ap- 
 plause which greeted her, there was some- 
 thing in her plain, simple dress, and the
 
 ''A NEW 'MARGUERITEr' 97 
 
 heavy braids of pale gold hair hanging 
 down on her shoulders which brought to 
 mind the daj^s of yore when she had only 
 heen "one of the people ;" ere riches gained, 
 ambition gratified, and success assured, 
 had metamorphosed Hans Stocker's fair 
 young daughter into the triumphant artiste 
 and successful singer, whose fame all 
 the world was conversant with ; whose 
 name alone made countless thousands 
 throng to hear the voice which in days 
 gone by had made poor Christine's heart 
 ache with an unknown sadness whilst she 
 listened to it singing some wild Nor- 
 wegian legend as they sat spinning in the 
 rays of the setting sun, — when she her- 
 self had still been a strong hearty woman 
 and Ida only a bright fair child. 
 
 VOL. I. 7
 
 CHAPTEE YT. 
 
 l'iSOLA BELLA. 
 
 " What though the pursuit may be fruitless and the 
 hopes visionary'? The result may be a real and sub- 
 stantial benefit, though of another kind ; the vineyard 
 may have been cultivated by digging in it for the treasure 
 
 that is never to be found Many a generous 
 
 sentiment, and many a virtuous resolution, have been 
 called forth and matured by admiration of one, who may 
 herself perhaps have been incapable of either. It matters 
 not what the object is a man aspires to be worthy of, if 
 he does but believe it to be excellent." — Bacon^s Essays, 
 
 7—2
 
 T is a hot sultry evening early in 
 July, and though a deep-voiced 
 old town-clock has just solemnly 
 struck five, the heat of the sun as it blazes 
 down on the little town of Domodossola in 
 North Itaty, is still powerful enough to 
 make any exposure to its rays neither 
 soothing to the body nor composing to the 
 mind. 
 
 So thinks Sir Gordon Leslie as he 
 stands in the shaded courtyard of the old- 
 fashioned rambling " Hotel della Citta/'
 
 I02 KINGSDENE. 
 
 peacefully smoking until such time as the 
 atmosphere may have become cooler and 
 fresher, so that he can take his walks 
 abroad with the comfort which is in- 
 separable from the true Briton's apprecia- 
 tion of the beautiful and the picturesque. 
 
 All the same he finds it rather a dull 
 occupation on the whole, for, except two 
 couriers laughing and chatting in one 
 corner of the place, and an occasional 
 glimpse of the dark-eyed daughter of the 
 house as she flits along the wooden gallery 
 running round the courtyard, there is 
 not a living soul to be seen besides 
 himself. 
 
 A great clatter of horses' feet and the 
 rattle of a heavy carriage as it rolls in 
 under the huge porte-cochere, acts the 
 part of the Prince in the Sleeping
 
 niSOLA BELLA. 103 
 
 Beauty's history to the hotel in general. 
 For out pour men, women, children, and 
 dogs, of every description, intent upon 
 attending to the wants of travellers, who, 
 by arriving in a private carriage, have 
 stamped themselves as ^' English Milords," 
 and are to be robbed ad libitum accord- 
 ingly. 
 
 ^' Why, how are you, Villiers '?" exclaims 
 Sir Gordon, as he touches on the shoulder 
 a tall, dark man, standing by the door of 
 the carriage. 
 
 " Leslie, I'm so glad to see you, old 
 fellow !" and Dick Villiers' tone is as 
 hearty and genial as ever, though he is 
 anxiously struggling with a perfect ava- 
 lanche of fans, books, and parasols, which 
 are poured into his arms by some one still 
 inside the vehicle.
 
 I04 KINGSDENE, 
 
 '^ Here, let me help you, Dick I" and 
 Gordon Leslie makes an effectual raid 
 upon the goods and chattels. 
 
 ^^ Leslie, I forget if you have ever 
 met my wife ?" says Mr. Villiers inquir- 
 ingly. 
 
 *^ No, I have not had that pleasure," 
 answers Sir Gordon, who till this moment 
 had almost forgotten the fact of his 
 friend's marriage with the actress, 
 Mademoiselle Ida Stocker, which had 
 taken place a few months after her debut 
 in London, and now altogether about five 
 years ago. 
 
 '^ Ida, this is Sir Gordon Leslie," says 
 Mr. Villiers to the occupant of the car- 
 riage, and against the dark background of 
 the same there appears what to Gordon 
 Leslie seems the most beautiful face he
 
 niSOLA BELLA. 105 
 
 has ever seen in his nine-and-twenty years 
 ofhfe. 
 
 A bright, fair face, with beautiful 
 cold blue eyes that strike one Uke the 
 touch of steel, a pink and white com- 
 plexion, in which nature is so artistic and 
 art so natural, that the most sarcastic 
 critic must acknowledge what is done is 
 done well, and a mouth, which, if it is a 
 shade hard^ has still much to boast oi^ in 
 the redness of the somewhat thin lips and 
 the dazzling colour of the strong white 
 teeth. The hair is fair and rather colour- 
 less, but contrasts well with the large black 
 Rembrandt hat which covers Mrs. Yilliers' 
 head, and that her tall full figure is quite 
 in keeping with her grand statuesque 
 beauty is easily seen as she steps out of 
 the carriage to greet her husband's friend
 
 io6 KINGSDENE. 
 
 with her usual nonchalant coldness of 
 manner. 
 
 " Have you come here to-day, Leslie V 
 inquires Dick Villiers. 
 
 "No, yesterday. And I mean to leave 
 it the first thing to-morrow morning." 
 
 •'^Whyr 
 
 " Because with the thermometer at 
 ninety in the shade I can't be happy until 
 I get to a lake or river, or somewhere 
 where I can bathe, and they say the 
 Lago Maggiore is only a drive from 
 here." 
 
 '^ That's just where we are going to, 
 so that'll be very jolly," observes Mr. 
 Villiers, whilst his wife smiles in listless 
 approval of his speech, but speaks no 
 word. 
 
 " I wonder if any power on earth could
 
 niSOLA BELLA. io7 
 
 really wake that woman up to show a 
 trace of feeling T mutters Sir Gordon to 
 
 himself. 
 
 Being young and extremely good-look- 
 ing, he is generally accustomed to be met 
 half way (or even more sometimes) by 
 those of the fair sex whom he honours 
 with his interest, and the perfect unconcern 
 as to his movements vouchsafed by the 
 beautiful Mrs. Villiers is somewhat galling 
 to his amour propre. 
 
 '' They don't give one a very good dinner 
 here," he observes, reverting to the true- 
 bred Englishman's just cause of complaint 
 whenever slightly ruffled. 
 
 " Don't they ? That's rather a bore, 
 isn't if?" responds Mrs. Yilliers in her 
 slightly foreign accent, with a glance out 
 of her blue eyes that renders Sir Gordon
 
 lo8 KINGSDENE. 
 
 penitent in the extreme for his hasty 
 judgment on her. 
 
 And as they turn and walk into the 
 hotels arrangements are made not only to 
 dine together that evening, but also to 
 travel in company next morning on their 
 journey to Baveno, at which little town on 
 the* Lago Maggiore the Yilliers have 
 decided to stay at least a fortnight. 
 
 A week of this fortnight had passed,, 
 before it dawned upon Sir Gordon Leslie 
 that there are safer experiments in the 
 world than trying to ^' wake up " (as he 
 called it) even a cold and listless nature 
 such as Ida Yilliers', and a very unpleasant 
 idea that whatever she, might be, he him- 
 self was decidedly ^'' waking up " in his 
 interest for that lady, came slowly home 
 to him.
 
 LI so LA BELLA. 109 
 
 Scarcely a day had gone by but that 
 all three had taken themselves off together 
 to spend what Sir Gordon called '^ a day 
 in the open/' which being interpreted 
 meant that they paddled across the lake 
 in a boat (which had previously been well 
 stocked with provisions), and spent all the 
 hot hours of the day sitting under the tall 
 shady shrubs in the beautiful gardens on 
 the Isola Bella, only returning to their 
 hotel in the evening in time for a sort of 
 late supper, after a good hard row about 
 the lake had set the two men's consciences 
 •at rest in the matter of having taken 
 sufficient exercise. 
 
 But this incessant companionship with 
 the lovely Norwegian had proved a severe 
 test to the invulnerable hardness of heart 
 on which Gordon Leslie prided himself.
 
 no KINGSDENE. 
 
 chiefly upon the strength of having nearly 
 reached the age of thirty without losing 
 his heart more than was necessary or than 
 was expected of him, and also having 
 always regarded a grande passion with 
 the contemptuous pity he considered such 
 a weakness deserved. 
 
 Nor was the abject state of submission 
 to which this last phase had reduced Dick 
 Villiers, much of an inducement to him to 
 follow in the latter's footsteps ; and the 
 first evening he had dined with the 
 Villiers alone, it gave him a positive 
 shock to see the meek way in which Mr. 
 Villiers gave in to every caprice of his 
 wife's, who apparently treated him much 
 on the principle which is supposed 
 to be the special right of the oppo- 
 site sex : ^^ something better than her
 
 n ISO LA BELLA. in 
 
 dog, a little dearer than her horse." 
 But as he grew more accustomed to 
 her manner, the supremacy of her mar- 
 vellous beauty asserted itself, and soon 
 he would have preferred one only of 
 Ida's pale cold smiles to the sweetest 
 words that ever woman spoke or man 
 listened to. 
 
 '< Where's Dick?" asks Sir Gordon, 
 glancing up at Ida Yilliers' face as *he 
 sits on a fallen marble column at her feet, 
 in the quietest corner of the grand old 
 gardens. 
 
 " I don't know," she answers, in a tone 
 which obviously shows that the sequel 
 to the sentence would be, '^and don't 
 care !" 
 
 Ida's attitude as she leans back in her 
 low garden-chair is full of a careless grace
 
 112 KINGSDENE. 
 
 peculiarly her own ; and that nonchalant 
 indolence which is invariably assumed by 
 a " daughter of the people " to hide the 
 consciousness of past years, suits the pas- 
 sionless style of her beauty admirably. 
 Her hands are very white, but large, and 
 give one the idea that she could do real 
 strong work with them an she listed (were 
 not the bundles of pine-branches heavy, 
 Ida, in the old Norse-land ?) ; but now their 
 only employment is waving a large green 
 fan sleepily to and fro, in the hope of 
 giving artificial freshness to the air so 
 heavily laden with the perfume of flowers 
 and scented shrubs, 
 
 " It's horrible to think that we've only 
 three more days to spend here," observes 
 Sir Gordon sadly. 
 
 '^ Yes, I shall be sorry to leave this
 
 niSOLA BELLA. 113 
 
 place/* answers Mrs. Villiers, favouring 
 him with a glance out of her blue eyes 
 which makes his pulses beat at the thought 
 that it is the loss of his own society which 
 she also possibly regrets a little. 
 
 '^ I've never been so happy in my life 
 as during these last ten days/' continues 
 'Gordon Leslie, ^^ and if it were not for the 
 thought of seeing you in London again 
 during the winter, I should be ready to 
 blow my brains out !" and the speaker's 
 handsome face flushes with earnest- 
 ness. 
 
 ^' What's the use of looking forward and 
 building castles in the air. Sir Gordon T 
 asks Ida coldly. 
 
 His face falls at her tone, but he re- 
 covers himself and answers : 
 
 ^' I always look forward, Mrs. Yilliers. 
 
 VOL. I. 8
 
 114 KINGSDENE. 
 
 Chateaux en Espagne are so seldom really^ 
 built that if one did not get at least the 
 pleasure of anticipation out of them, 
 everything would be Dead Sea apples 
 altogether." 
 
 Ida shrugs her shoulders. 
 '^ I never build castles in the air," she 
 says with a yawn of complacent laziness, 
 *' for I couldn't bear to see them 
 fall." 
 
 "Few can, I should think, and one 
 could scarcely blame them for it; it's a 
 trial before which many have gone down, 
 I expect," answers Gordon Leslie in a 
 speculative tone. ^^ But I ni too much of 
 a gambler at heart not to build them up 
 again and again, and always to think : 
 they will stand this time." 
 
 '' I believe I thought so too once, years
 
 LISOLA BELLA. 115 
 
 ago," says Mrs. Yilliers dreamily. ^' And 
 my castle really did stand that time. I 
 mean when I became a singer." 
 
 This subject is one which Sir Gordon's 
 intuitive tact teaches him not to enlarge 
 upon too much to a woman like Ida 
 Villiers, so he only remarks quietly : 
 
 '^ Yes, it was a brilliant castle enough, 
 that of yours, Mrs. Villiers." 
 
 c 
 
 " And yet when it was built it gave 
 me no real pleasure," answers Ida bitterly. 
 " I liked the excitement of success, and 
 the horror I have of poverty and all con- 
 nected with it made me value my triumphs 
 immensely from a pecuniary point of view ; 
 but I never felt the burning love of my 
 art and the deep enthusiasm and excite- 
 ment over it all, such as true artistes 
 feel." 
 
 8—2
 
 ii6 KINGSDENE. 
 
 In spite of his infatuation for the 
 speaker, Gordon Leslie cannot but recall 
 his own criticism on her acting delivered 
 long ago, and so makes no comment. 
 
 '^ I wish there were no such things as 
 pain or hardships in life," continues Mrs. 
 Villiers plaintively, holding up one large 
 white hand as if to recall the memory of 
 its earlier years of servitude. " I do so 
 hate work and everything except sitting 
 still and enjoying myself — don't you T 
 
 " I'm afraid I've tried the former too 
 seldom to be able to give any opinion, 
 Mrs. Villiers ; but I'll swear that a 
 thoroughly idle life is much worse !" ex- 
 claims Sir Gordon. 
 
 Ida Villiers watches him with an 
 amused smile as he raises himself slowly 
 to take a good shot with a pebble at one
 
 n ISO LA BELLA. 117 
 
 of the dolphin's heads ornamenting the 
 small fountain close to them. His hat is 
 pushed carelessly on one side, showing to 
 the full the fair handsome face of its 
 wearer, stamped with the refined high- 
 bred look which had been characteristic of 
 the Leslies even in the days of the grand 
 old soldier Sir David^ the conqueror of 
 Montrose at Philliphaugh, who received 
 his spurs from the hand of Gustavus 
 of Sweden himself on the field of 
 Leipzig. 
 
 " You look so like a tiller of the soil," 
 she says quietly and scornfully. 
 
 Sir Gordon does not hear the comment 
 apparently, as he is engaged in pulling out 
 and re-reading a letter received by post 
 that morning, the first part of which he 
 had perused in haste as it had reference to
 
 ii8 KINGSDENE. 
 
 business matters of some importance, but 
 the latter portion had been put by for a 
 more convenient season. 
 
 The epistle is from Mrs. Brabazon, and 
 he reads the conclusion carelessly : 
 
 " I feel quite grateful to my husband 
 for desiring me to write this letter to you 
 for him, as it gives me a chance of asking 
 when w^e shall have you back again 
 amongst us ? Also I must tell you a bit 
 of home news : that Amelia is engaged to 
 Sir Soapy Bland. Of course it is a very 
 trying time for her, as the wedding is to 
 take place soon, but she bears up wonder- 
 fully well on the whole." 
 
 (*•' More than I could ; I should scrag 
 the little beast !" mutters Sir Gordon in 
 soliloquy.)
 
 L ISO LA BELLA. 119 
 
 " You will hardly recognise Stella when 
 you see her again, for she was at school 
 during your last visits to us, and through 
 all the London seasons, so I don't think 
 you have seen her since she was quite a 
 child. She's a charming girl, and in one 
 more year will be of age and one of the 
 
 richest heiresses in W shire, so you 
 
 might do worse, my dear Gordon, than 
 make her Lady Leslie ; and this old place 
 of hers is simply perfect. She's a clever 
 girl too, and the way she has made up for 
 lost time in point of education is simply 
 marvellous ; but I can't make her care 
 much for society, which is odd when one 
 considers that a woman's province in life 
 is to marry well. However she persists 
 in preferring the country, and riding, 
 gardening, or anything to the duties of
 
 I20 KINGSDENE. 
 
 society ; so I can only hope that time will 
 show her the folly of trying to find a 
 good husband, and above all a rich man, 
 amongst the rose-trees and cabbages at 
 Kingsdene. 
 
 " I must finish this letter now as 
 Amelia and Clara are anxious to start for 
 Lady Muffin's kettledrum, which is to 
 take place at Crumpet Court, five miles 
 away from here. It's a long, hot drive, 
 I'm afraid, but the poor girls do so enjoy 
 society, and in the country one must take 
 what one can get. 
 
 " As usual, Stella laughs at the idea of 
 what she calls * social martyrdom,' and 
 refuses to accompany us. She vexes me 
 very much by these absurd ideas of hers, 
 but I am sure that with a suitable husband 
 she would soon amend her ways.
 
 UISOLA BELLA. 121 
 
 '^ Hoping to see you at home again 
 before long, 
 
 " Believe me, 
 
 " Yours aiFectionately, 
 "Mary K. Brabazon. 
 
 "KiNGSDENE : JuUj 13^A." 
 
 '^ From whom may that long and ap- 
 parently interesting letter be, Sir Gordon, 
 if it's not impertinent to ask T 
 
 " Not in the least, Mrs. Vilhers. It is 
 from a most respectable matron with 
 grown-up daughters." 
 
 " Then it can't be very interesting,"" 
 remarks Ida listlessly. 
 
 "It is to me, for it's mostly written to 
 recommend me a wife," observes Sir 
 Gordon laughingly. 
 
 " I thought you had forsworn matri-
 
 122 KINGSDENE. 
 
 mony, Sir Gordon, but I suppose you have 
 really only done so about as much as most 
 men ; which means that they keep clear 
 of it until the one woman turns up who 
 has the power to make thorough fools of 
 them." 
 
 "Don't you think I have come across 
 my fate in that respect already, Mrs. 
 Villiers V asks her companion, the laugh 
 dying out of his face, and a wearied sad 
 look crossing it. " Anyway, I don't think 
 I'm likely to find my ideal in a little red- 
 haired Yankee girl !" 
 
 " Is that a true portrait of your bride- 
 elect T inquires Mrs. Villiers, with a cold, 
 hard smile, which made one realise 
 that she would be well pleased an it 
 were so. 
 
 *' It was when I last saw her, but I
 
 VI so LA BELLA. 123 
 
 hear she's a grown-up young lady now, 
 and very pretty." 
 
 " Here comes Dick ; I shall go and 
 meet him," remarks Mrs. ViUiers in a 
 tone which, though the words sound 
 natural enough, gives Sir Gordon plainly 
 to understand that somehow or other 
 he has contrived to say the wrong 
 thing. 
 
 He racks his brains vainly to think 
 what it can be, after the manner of fair- 
 deaUng honest young hearts which give 
 ^^gold for silver" ungrudgingly, and yet 
 so often have cause to bitterly regret the 
 reckless expenditure. 
 
 So he follows his "daughter of the 
 gods, divinely tall, and most divinely fair " 
 with a slower step than common, as she 
 saunters across the dried burnt grass to
 
 124 KINGSDENE. 
 
 meet Dick Villiers, and also the lunch- 
 basket ; an existence on air alone being 
 the very last stage of lunacy likely to find 
 favour in Mrs. Villiers' eyes.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 CHANGE UPON CHANGE. 
 
 *' And my heart yearns baffled and blind, moved vainly 
 toward thee and moving, 
 As the refluent seaweed moves in the languid exube- 
 rant stream, , 
 Fair as a rose is on earth, as a rose under water in 
 prison. 
 That stretches and swings to the slow passionate 
 pulse of the sea, 
 Closed up from the air and the sun, but alive, as a 
 ghost rearisen, 
 Pale as the love that revives as a ghost rearisen in 
 me." 
 
 ffesperia.
 
 t^'^ .:■
 
 T is six years since we last saw 
 Stella Ray, and yet the slight 
 figure which is sitting close 
 before the fire that blazes in the big 
 drawing-room of Mr. Brabazon's house in 
 
 E n Square on this dark November 
 
 evening, seems but slightly altered at the 
 first glance. The little dark face with its 
 honest, mischievous brown eyes is there 
 still ; and though now the long heavy hair 
 is coiled neatly round Stella's head instead 
 of flying loose in the rough shock that
 
 128 KINGSDENE. 
 
 used to startle beholders of yore, it still 
 possesses the deep red-golden tinge which 
 is so rarely met with save in old 
 pictures. 
 
 Though her figure is too slight to be 
 really beautiful, there is little to find fault 
 with in its lithe grace, born of natural 
 activity and a free out-of-door life ; but 
 when the girl, starting at the sound of an 
 opening door, turns her face towards the 
 full light of the reading-lamp which is 
 standing on the table beside her, few in 
 the world would stay to criticise or con- 
 demn, when they are looking upon so 
 brightly beautiful and lovable a little face 
 as that of Stella Eay. 
 
 '' Aren't you dressed yet T inquires a 
 harsh imperious voice, and Amelia Lady 
 Bland sweeps up to the fire in a dress
 
 CHANGE UPON CHANGE. 129 
 
 which seems to have an indescribable 
 rustle and swagger in each one of its stiff 
 folds. 
 
 '^Yes, I'm ready for dinner," responds 
 her cousin laconically, lifting her eyebrows 
 in a critical manner especially annoying to 
 her ladyship, as the full details of the 
 latter s gorgeous robe unfold themselves 
 before her gaze. 
 
 ^' Well, I think you might have taken 
 the trouble to make yourself look a little 
 nicer, I must say/' continues Lady Bland 
 with acerbity. '^Especially as not only 
 Gordon Leslie dines here to-night, but Sir 
 Soapy also !" 
 
 A slight shrug of the shoulders at the 
 
 conclusion of the latter sentence, testifies 
 
 to Stella's contempt for the saponaceous 
 
 Baronet whom she now has the blessed 
 
 VOL. I. 9
 
 130 KINGSDENE. 
 
 privilege of calling cousin. But she only 
 answers lazily : 
 
 ^' Oh, I think I shall do, Amelia. You 
 must remember I am not a bride with a 
 trousseau waiting to be displayed, and no 
 one will look at my humble white cashmere 
 whilst they've got your magnificent toilette 
 upon which to feast their eyes." 
 
 *' Yes, I think this dress is handsome," 
 murmurs the fair Amelia complacently, 
 ^' at least, Sir Soapy says it suits my style 
 to perfection, and he has such taste." 
 
 " No doubt." 
 
 *'And whilst I think of it, Stella, Sir 
 Soapy said the other day w^iat a pity it 
 was you didn't make more of your hair 
 instead of twisting: it so tisfht round the 
 back of your head," continues Lady Bland, 
 glancing sideways at her own chevelure in
 
 CHANGE UPON CHANGE. 131 
 
 the mirror opposite ; and inserting a finger 
 into one of its numerous puffs of hair, she 
 gives it an affectionate tweak, unconsciously 
 causing thereby an unfortunate interstice 
 which reveals the frizzy foundation on 
 which it is built. 
 
 ^' I'm very much obliged to Sir Soapy 
 for the interest he takes in my head, 
 Amelia, but I really can't wear frisettes to 
 please him." 
 
 '' Why not, I should like to know T 
 
 ^' Because I hate shams and humbuofs of 
 overy sort and kind, especially wearing 
 small bolsters made of dead people's hair." 
 
 " My dear Stella, how horribly you talk ! 
 And even if it were true, that is no argu- 
 ment against it. If the fashion decrees 
 that we are to wear our hair high, why 
 we must wear it high of course, and if we 
 
 9—2 
 
 -4*«*
 
 132 KINGSDENE. 
 
 have not enough hair of our own, it stands 
 to reason that we must w^ear other 
 people's." 
 
 " Do by all means if it pleases you, 
 Amelia. I believe if the fashions returned 
 to those of the Ancient Britons you'd 
 wear no clothes at all, and only paint 
 yourself sky-blue on state occasions !" 
 
 " Stella, you are becoming indecent. 
 Sir SoajDy observed the other day what a 
 mistake it was for young girls to be so 
 brusque in their manners." 
 
 '^ Toujours savon !" murmurs Stella ir- 
 reverently, but before Lady Bland has 
 time to vent her wrath in answer, the door 
 is flung wide open to admit a tall fair 
 young man, and Gordon Leslie's bright 
 cheery face and kindly smile appear once 
 more on the scene.
 
 CHANGE UPON CHANGE, 133 
 
 After enduring an effusive greeting from 
 the fair Amelia, Sir Gordon turns to in- 
 spect the small figure standing quietly in 
 the background behind her, and gives a 
 positive start at sight of the change which 
 time has wrought in his small playmate of 
 years gone by. 
 
 ^' Truly the ugly duckling has turned 
 into a swan," he thinks to himself, 
 glancing at Stella's pure pale profile as it 
 stands out clearly agairist the dark oak 
 screen behind her, and the firelight plays 
 on her red-gold hair and deep shining 
 ayes. '^ 
 
 *^ I should never have known you again, 
 Star," he remarks wonderingly. 
 
 " Shouldn't you T answers the girl, with 
 a bright sunny smile, for something in his 
 tone makes it plain to her that the change
 
 134 KINGSDENE. 
 
 seems for the better and not the worse in 
 his eyes. 
 
 *^ Were you sorry to come back to Eng- 
 land ?" she asks shyly. 
 
 '* I'm afraid I was rather," answers 
 Gordon Leslie, reflecting on who he had 
 .(.eft behind him in the sunny foreign lands.. 
 
 " But it's quite right you should, you 
 know," comments Amelia in a dictatorial 
 tone. " I don't consider that young men 
 of the present day perform half their duties 
 towards society. It's nothing but sport, 
 sport, morning, noon, and night ; and when 
 it's not that, it's a mania for staying in any 
 country but their own." 
 
 <i We're a bad lot, Amelia, there's no 
 denying," responds Sir Gordon with a 
 merry glance at Stella, who smiles back 
 openly in answer.
 
 CHANGE UPON CHANGE. 135 
 
 " And the girls of the present day are 
 every bit as bad/' pursues her ladyship 
 viciously. *' There's Stella now, she'll 
 garden or ride all day, or poke about 
 amongst poultry and cottages everlastingly 
 down at Kingsdene. But as to inducing 
 her to devote her time properly to society, 
 why it's simply impossible, though I tell 
 her she'll regret it bitterly some day." 
 
 *^ How shall I regret it, Amelia T hi- 
 quires her cousin. 
 
 ^' Simply because you'll waste 3^our best 
 years in the life you're leading now, and 
 it's not likely you will marry well if you 
 continue to shut yourself up with only 
 
 your dogs and horses down in W 
 
 shire." 
 
 " And is ' to marry well ' the only goal 
 of every woman's life, Amelia ?" exclaims
 
 136 KINGSDENE. 
 
 Stella merrily. " I almost agree with you 
 then that there's very little hope for me, 
 as certainly the jeunesse doree don't affect 
 
 the solitudes of W shire much until 
 
 the hunting begins." 
 
 ^' Gordon, you've altered very little on 
 the whole," observes Lady Bland, survey- 
 ing him critically. 
 
 " Thank you, Amelia. Though whether 
 you mean that for a compliment or the 
 reverse, is not for man to say. Here 
 comes your mother," and a warmer wel- 
 come than ever is bestowed on the guest 
 who so invariably maintains his place of 
 honour in Mrs. Brabazon's lieart, spite of 
 time and absence. 
 
 '^ Well, Gordon, dear boy, I am glad to 
 •see you back at last !" and both his hands 
 are shaken heartily by his stout and cheery
 
 CHANGE UPON CHANGE. 137 
 
 relative. *' We began to think you were 
 ^oing to stay abroad for good this time. I 
 can't even remember when it was you 
 went away V 
 
 '' Nine months ago, Mrs. Brabazon ; 
 towards the end of last hunting season." 
 
 "Oh yes, so it was. Well, that sport 
 will keep you safe in England for some 
 time to come, won't it T 
 
 "Yes, I hope so. I've got the salnae 
 lot of horses I had last year down at 
 Leighton, and shall begin work at once." 
 
 " I thought you were going to give up 
 hunting from town, Leslie T inquires Mr. 
 Brabazon, whose arrival in the room has 
 followed closely upon that of his wife. 
 
 "Well, I did think of it," answers Sir 
 Gordon with slight hesitation, " but it will 
 suit me better to stay in town this winter,
 
 KINGSDENE. 
 
 SO I shall leave things as they are." And 
 he moves uneasily under the scrutiny of a 
 certain pair of dark brown eyes which he 
 feels are quietly watching him. .^'^ Stella, 
 when will you come out for another 
 walk '?" he continues, turning the conver- 
 sation. ^' Do you remember our last one, 
 when I took you to see your own picture'?" 
 
 " Yes, I remember," answers Stella, and 
 the merry wild eyes grow soft as a dream. 
 
 '^ We must have another one any day 
 when Mrs. Brabazon can spare you," pro- 
 ceeds Sir Gordon. 
 
 . " Oh, I can spare her well enough," 
 observes the latter lady. " In fact, Stella 
 very seldom condescends to come out with 
 us when we go shopping or to pay a few 
 morning calls." 
 
 ^^Then I shall feel especially favoured
 
 CHANGE UPON CHANGE, 13^ 
 
 if she will go out with me," answers Sir 
 Gordon kindly ; but careless courtesy is 
 obviously the mainspring of the remark, 
 and Stella feels somehow a shade dis- 
 appointed at the coldness of his tone. - 
 
 ^^ Gordon, you're not in as good spirits 
 as you used to be," observed Mrs. Bra- 
 bazon about an hour or so later, when the 
 servants had left the dining-room, and the 
 family party were once more left to th^n- 
 selves. 
 
 ^^ I'm older now, Mrs. Brabazon," 
 answered Sir Gordon, with a start which 
 showed plainly that his thoughts had 
 been very far afield at the moment. ^^ Old 
 age carries care on its crupper, and I am 
 nearly thirty." 
 
 '^ That's not old enough to steady most 
 men," remarked his hostess, "■ unless
 
 I40 . KINGSDENE. 
 
 ^ man has lost his health or his 
 heart." 
 
 " Let us hoj)e it is neither of those 
 losses which is affecting me/' answered 
 'Gordon Leslie, laughing uneasily. 
 
 ^' Aunt, I heard a great smash of china 
 in the drawing-room a minute ago," in- 
 terrupted Stella Kay. And Sir Gordon, as 
 he glanced at her, instinctively felt that 
 his former little friend was making a 
 ■diversion in the conversation for his sake. 
 ^^ I hope the new footman hasn't dropped 
 the lamp which is always carried up about 
 now." 
 
 "■ My dear child, if it should be that, I 
 really don't know what I should do !" ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Brabazon in loud distress. 
 ^'' Let us come up to the drawing-room at 
 once azid see."
 
 CHANGE UPON CHANGE. 141 
 
 Sir Gordon held the dining-room door 
 open for the ladies to go out, and again 
 glanced at Stella's face as she passed him 
 by. But the brown eyes were bent down- 
 wards^ and not a trace of any unusual 
 feeling was to be discerned on Miss Kay's 
 countenance, though the instant that the 
 dining-room door was closed between them 
 a grave, puzzled look crept into the said 
 brown eyes, and the laughing mouth fell 
 slightly. 
 
 '^ There's something wrong with him, 
 I can see that too," she thought to herself 
 sadly ; ^^ and I wonder who the woman is,. 
 
 and whether she's worth caring for T ^_ 
 
 . Somehow this speculation, though no 
 doubt interesting, scarcely appeared to be 
 pleasing to Miss Ray, for the darkly- 
 pencilled eyebrows met in a vindictive
 
 142 KINGSDENE. 
 
 frown, and the high-heeled shoe came 
 down on the top stair with a vicious Httle 
 stamp. 
 
 *^My dear Stella, how you have 
 frightened me for nothing !" exclaimed 
 her aunt, after a careful survey of the 
 gorgeous drawing-room had convinced that 
 lady that no damage had been done to her 
 pet lamps, old china, or any other nick- 
 nacks. 
 
 '' I'm very sorry, aunt, but I spoke to 
 save worse harm being done possibly," 
 returned Miss Kay with a mischievous 
 laugh. 
 
 "Well, alFs well that ends well," ob- 
 served Mrs. Brabazon good-humouredly. 
 ^'Amelia, don't you think that Gordon 
 Leslie is altered somehow T 
 
 '' Not in face. But he isn't half the fun
 
 CHANGE UPON CHANGE. 143 
 
 he was, and looks as if he were years older 
 since we last saw him." 
 
 ^^ Perhapth mamma ith right, that he 'th 
 in love," lisped Clara, who since her soul 
 had found its affinity in that of a junior 
 clerk in the Foreign Office, was apt to 
 jump to the conclusion that all other 
 men and women were even as her- 
 self. 
 
 ^' You're always thinking of that non- 
 sense, Clara !" retorted her sister sarcasti- 
 cally. 
 
 She had never wasted much thought on 
 it, to do her justice ! 
 
 Stella Ray said nothing, but the grave, 
 speculative look remained in her eyes for 
 the rest of the evening, and Sir Soapy 
 Bland confidentially informed the wife of 
 his bosom during their journey home, that
 
 144 KINGSDENE. 
 
 her cousin was growing more airified and 
 eccentric every day, and for his part he 
 pitied the man Avho married her, even with 
 all Kingsdene at her back.
 
 CHAPTEE YIII. 
 
 MERCI, FORTUNE. 
 
 " But, wherever this nature of mine is most fair, 
 And its thoughts are the purest — belov'd, thou art there! 
 And whatever is noblest in aught that I do. 
 Is done to exalt and to worship thee too. * 
 
 The world gave thee not to me, no ! and the world 
 Cannot take thee away from me now. I have furl'd 
 The wings of my spirit about thy bright head ; 
 At thy feet are my soul's immortalities spread. 
 Thou mightest have been to me much. Thou art more. 
 And in silence I worship, in darkness adore." 
 
 Lucile. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 10
 
 SEE by this evening's paper 
 that poor Dick ViUiers is 
 dead," is the careless comment 
 which falls on Gordon Leslie's ear as, an 
 hour later, he enters the Surf Club. 
 
 '^ Wonder what that handsome wife of 
 his will do now, and who'll have the 
 honour of being her second husband ?" 
 
 " Don't care, as long as it's not myself," 
 observes the cheery young Guardsman 
 who had first spoken ; whereupon a dis- 
 screet nudge from his companion draws 
 
 10—2
 
 148 KINGSDENE. 
 
 attention to the near vicinity of Sir 
 Gordon Leslie, and an awkward silence 
 falls on both. 
 
 "That's the man who'll marry her/*" 
 murmurs the young Guardsman sotto voce, 
 " and I'm sorry for it, for he's a thunder- 
 ing good fellow, and she " an expres- 
 sive shrug of the shoulders completes the 
 sentence. 
 
 Meantime Gordon Leslie lights his 
 cigar and sits down before the almost 
 deserted fire as if in a dream. Slowly \he 
 realises in full force the meaninof of the 
 words he has just heard, and mechanically 
 he takes up the nearest evening paper ta 
 read the news for himself 
 
 There is no doubt of its truth, for the 
 short, concise announcement of Mr. 
 Villiers' death in Italy, through Homan
 
 MERCI, FORTUNE. 149 
 
 fever, is contained in the first paragraph 
 which catches his eye. He reads it 
 through twice,, three times ; and tries hard 
 not to rejoice even though Ida is now 
 free. He had been a good fellow, poor 
 old Dick, and a kind husband to her, God 
 rest him ! But still all that was over 
 now, and no doubt he was better off; 
 whilst here stood his successor ready to 
 step into his shoes. * 
 
 Try as he may, Gordon Leslie cannot 
 wholly repress a feeling of savage exulta- 
 tion over the dead man, at the thought 
 that the treasure possessed by one, coveted 
 by the other, and so passionately valued 
 by both, would now some day be his and 
 his alone. No doubt of Ida Villiers' con- 
 stancy crosses his mind even for an instant, 
 and, as he walks home through the silent
 
 ISO KINGSDENE. 
 
 streets, visions of home and happiness, in 
 which a glorious fair face appears ever 
 pre-eminent, shine out before him and turn 
 the dark and cheerless nio^ht into brig^ht 
 and dazzling day. 
 
 ''' My darling !" he murmurs tenderly, 
 as, once more in his own rooms, he buries 
 himself in a big arm-chair to think it all 
 out. '^ I must give her a year, or ought 
 it to be eighteen months % No ! T think 
 a year is enough, and then I shall go and 
 
 ask her to be my wife." And a smile of 
 ineffable content crosses Gordon Leslie's 
 face as he pictures to himself what Ida's 
 answer will be. (Truly Balzac was right 
 when he wrote : '' Quand on aime, tout 
 arrive a I'amour.") 
 
 ^^ We'll go to Norway for our honey- 
 moon, and go and see all her own people
 
 MERCl, FORTUNE. 151 
 
 if she cares to," pursues the visionary in 
 his thoughts. " I dare say they're a bit 
 rough, but what does that matter 1 it 
 won't make Ida one shade lower in my 
 estimation to know that Burke never 
 heard of her ancestors. Good thing on 
 the whole, for then she'll be solely mine 
 and will belong to no one else on earth of 
 any sort or kind. Poor girl ! I wish I 
 could be with her now, but I suppose 
 Mrs. Grundy would forbid that. Besides, 
 I don't want to seem to rejoice over that 
 poor fellow in his grave out yonder, before 
 even a year is out. No, I shall hunt this 
 winter, and then go abroad till Christmas, 
 and after that— the deluge ! 
 
 '' My beautiful darling, what will you 
 do and say when I come to beg for my 
 life's happiness '? It's maddening to think
 
 152 KINGSDENE. 
 
 that more than a year must pass before I 
 dare see you again except by chance. 
 But I can trust you, dear one, and would 
 wait till life's end, if need be, to receive 
 even one word of love from you at last 1" -^ 
 Oh, Gordon Leslie ! will nothing teach 
 you that an honest loyal heart such as 
 yours can never know bliss on earth ?_ 
 That as long as life lasts it will wait and 
 hope, bearing pain ungrudgingly and beat- 
 ing itself day after day against the bars in 
 vain hope of deliverance and happiness to 
 come, only to fall down at last, beaten and 
 bruised and wearied in the strife ? It is 
 the hearts of tougher though not truer 
 metal than yours that conquer in this 
 world ! who love " as much as thev are 
 able," taking care never to expend one 
 grain of their store without a due and
 
 MERCI, FORTUNE. 153 
 
 satisfactory return, ! and who carelessly 
 accept the greatest and goodliest love '^ of 
 man and woman when they love their 
 best, closest and sweetest," as a just tribute 
 a-nd simple right. Woe to these, if, when 
 the play is played out, the curtain dropped, 
 and life ended, they are called to account 
 for the faithful loving hearts which were 
 all their own. 
 
 On the afternoon of the next day two 
 people are walking briskly up and down 
 under one of the avenues of limes in 
 Kensington Gardens. 
 
 '^ I thought last night that you were a 
 great deal altered. Sir Gordon," says Stella 
 Ray shyly, '^but you're just what I re- 
 member you after all." 
 
 *' I heard some good news last night.
 
 154 KINGSDENE. 
 
 little woman, and feel as if the whole world 
 had turned upside down for my especial 
 benefit," and the speaker laughs out in his 
 gladness. 
 
 " Anything I may know T 
 
 ^' Some day, but not now. Stella, people 
 say a thing is ' just like a novel ' when it's 
 totally incredible, and yet everyday events 
 beat any book that ever was written for 
 utter improbability." 
 
 ^^ I suppose they do," assents his com- 
 panion with ready sympathy, though 
 totally at a loss to know what he can be 
 referring to. '^ But I often wonder why, 
 when people are writing a novel, they 
 must put so many unnecessary impedi- 
 ments in the way of their hero and 
 heroine's ultimate happiness. The thread 
 of their stories goes up and down and is
 
 MERCr, FORTUNE. 155. 
 
 lost and found, just like the original air in 
 a piece of music with 'variations.' Why 
 can't the good people run plump into each 
 others arms round a corner, and settle 
 
 itr \ 
 
 ^^ I wish they could, in real life as well 
 as in books," answers Sir Gordon^ laughing. 
 '' But, Stella, tell me about Kingsdene, and 
 all your people and animals, will you ? 
 Hemember, I have never seen it ; won't 
 you ask me to stay with you some day T 
 
 ^' Oh, I should so like it !" exclaims she, 
 her face colouring rosy red with earnest- 
 ness as she stops and looks into his face, 
 the better to judge of the sincerity of his 
 words. '' Would you really come 1" she 
 continues with a sort of shy grace. 
 " There's fishing and hunting there to 
 amuse you, you know."
 
 156 k'INGSDENE. 
 
 '' Of course I shall come whenever you 
 like to ask me, and the sooner the better. 
 For when once you are married you will 
 have all your husband's friends to enter- 
 tain and will have less room for your 
 
 own." 
 
 '^ I doubt if I shall ever marry, Sir 
 Gordon. I don't say it as most young 
 ladies do, because it sounds well, when all 
 the same they intend to marry the very 
 first man that asks them ;l but you see I 
 have plenty of work cut out for me already, 
 and even if I am an old maid I shall not 
 have to lead a useless life." 
 
 *' But granted that you have unlimited 
 occupation and interest in your own life, 
 even that can never be weighed in the 
 same scale as home happiness and others 
 to love and care for." And Gordon Leslie's
 
 MERCI, FORTUNE. 157- 
 
 thoughts fly back to his day-dreams in- 
 voluntarily. 
 
 A vague, dreamy look sweeps over 
 Stella Kay's downcast face, as if she too 
 had dreamt of what life and love could 
 bring to her ; but the love which could 
 make her reckless little heart bow before 
 it would have to be indeed a great one, 
 and a minute later her merry laugh rings 
 out as gaily as before. 
 
 " No, verily. Sir Gordon. No matrimony 
 for me, if you please. I don't know which 
 is worst : to be as rich as Croesus as 
 Amelia is, with neither chick nor child to- 
 waste her money on, or to be as poor as 
 Clara will be, and to subsist on love in a 
 cottage and the pay of a clerk in the 
 Foreign Office." | 
 
 "But all the world isn't divided into
 
 158 KINGSDENE. 
 
 €Ouples as rich and lonely as the Blands, 
 and others whose only resources consist of 
 an overwhelming supply of olive-branches. 
 It's all nonsense for a woman to talk of 
 living alone situated as you are, and the 
 sooner you turn your attention to finding a 
 young man worthy of yourself and Kings- 
 dene, the better." 
 
 '^ Very well, Sir Gordon. Shall I begin 
 to look out at once ? Or don't you think 
 I might commence my hunt on Monday ? 
 That's a very nice day to start on. They 
 always hang a man on a Monday, I suppose 
 that he may begin the week well." 
 
 ^^You may laugh, but it's the best of 
 advice that I'm giving you all the same. 
 Tell me, what do you do with your time all 
 day down at Kingsdene T 
 
 '' Oh, there's plenty to do always. First
 
 MERCI, FORTUNE. 159 
 
 there are the gardens to look after, and 
 the farm and poultry, and the old women ; 
 and then you know I've got two or three 
 horses/' adds the girl hesitatingly, divided 
 in mind between an intense desire to tell 
 him all about her home life and the thinofs 
 of most interest to her, and a dread lest he 
 should think she was taking too much of 
 the airs of proprietorship on herself. 
 
 ^^ What are the horses V 
 
 ^' Well, one is a brougham horse, because 
 you see Aunt Brabazon is there always 
 with me too, and she can't walk much; 
 and one is a sort of hack and light harness 
 horse which I ride in the summer, and the 
 third is my own particular beast, a hunter." 
 
 ^^ I hear you can ride above a bit now, 
 Stella ; is that true ?" 
 
 " It's true if I'm on old ' Kildare,' but I
 
 i6o KINGS DENE, 
 
 don't know if I should get on as well on 
 other horses." 
 
 "Well, I hope to see for myself some 
 day, if this anticipated visit of mine to 
 Kingsdene ever comes off." 
 
 *' But you've said you'll come," and 
 Stella's brown eyes look into those of her 
 companion with perfect trust and con- 
 fidence. 
 
 " And I shall be only too glad to keep 
 my word. But the event certainly can't 
 come off this winter, and next spring I 
 shall go abroad again for nearly a year." 
 
 '^ Shall you ? What makes you take 
 these restless wandering fits so often. Sir 
 Gordon T 
 
 " I took to them first from idleness, 
 then because I wanted to forget, and now 
 because I|' want] to remember. There,
 
 MERC I, FORTUNE. i6i 
 
 that's not a very intelligible explanation I 
 know, Star, but some day I will tell you 
 everything if you care to hear it." 
 
 ''Yes, I shall always care to hear it, 
 Sir Gordon," answers the girl quietly, then 
 adds in a lighter tone : " look at this dear 
 little collie puppy being led along ; I expect 
 that man has stolen it." 
 
 It certainly was a beautiful puppy of its 
 kind, and seeing the favourable impression 
 made on the young lady, the ill-favoured, 
 unkempt individual in charge of it stopped 
 at once to offer it for sale. 
 
 " It's not a bad-looking puppy by any 
 means," says Sir Gordon in a low aside. 
 
 ** Epor little beast ! it looks so hungry," 
 answers Stella pitifully, as the puppy looks 
 wistfully at her and tries to find a forgotten 
 crumb in the folds of her dress. 
 VOL. I. 11
 
 i62 KINGSDENE. 
 
 " Well, I don't mind buying it if you'll 
 undertake to keep it, Star. I'm sorry for 
 the poor little beast, but can't be bothered 
 with another dog myself. But I'll gladly 
 get it if you'll take possession of it and 
 give it a home." 
 
 " Do you mean you'll give it to me T 
 exclaims Stella delightedly. " I should 
 like that better than anything, for I'd 
 value it for your sake as well as its own," 
 she adds frankly. ^^ 
 
 "That's settled then" — and in another 
 five minutes the collie puppy is following 
 his new mistress with a contented ness of 
 mind which does not say much for the treat- 
 ment he has received at the hands of the 
 unshaven and unshorn individual aforesaid.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 EONS CAMARADES. 
 
 "Dans I'amiti^ et dans Tamour on est souvent plus 
 lieureux par les choses qu'on ignore que par celles que 
 Ton sait." — Rochefoucauld. 
 
 >>^^ 
 
 11—2
 
 \
 
 INTER is over at last, though it 
 has dragged its slow length far 
 into the months which are sup- 
 posed to be the sole property of its sunny- 
 hearted sister Spring ; and the first warm 
 hright May day is this when Sir Gordon 
 Leslie and Stella Ray are once more 
 walking up and down under the lime-trees 
 in Kensington Gardens, for the last time 
 foi' many months. 
 
 These two have become firm friends 
 during the winter, though Gordon Leslie
 
 i66 KINGSDENE. 
 
 had after all spent almost every week of it 
 in the country hunting ; still most Sundays 
 
 saw him at luncheon in E n Square^. 
 
 and then, as both the master and mistress 
 of the house invariably composed them- 
 selves after that meal for their Sabbath 
 afternoon's siesta, Stella and Sir Gordon 
 used to take advantage of the fact to 
 escape out of the house for a long Ute-a- 
 tete walk, during which subjects of interest 
 to the world at large and themselves in 
 particular were fully discussed. 
 
 So it came to pass at last that the girl's 
 heart learnt the old, old story ,^whilst the 
 man went on his way scatheless and free. 
 Not that he didn't sincerely love the 
 honest little friend, who was always so 
 glad to see him and to give him her ready 
 sympathy whenever wanted (did she under-
 
 BONS C/iMARADES. 16/ 
 
 ^, stand the reason for which it was de- 
 manded, or not) ; and no trouble could be too 
 great for him to take to give her pleasure, 
 or to help her in any way that was in his 
 power. But the deep, unwavering nature 
 of the man kept him true to the one great 
 love of his life, a-nd no other woman/— let 
 her be who she might — could ever have 
 gained one shadow of influence over 
 Gordon Leslie's true and loyal heart. 
 
 "" It's very nice of you, Stella, to take 
 my departure to heart," he says, in the 
 gay frank tones which speak for them- 
 selves in their utter carelessness. 
 
 "Is it T answers the girl sadly. *^ I 
 can't see that there's anything extra 
 *nice' in being sorry to lose one's only 
 friend." 
 
 " But you have others already, and
 
 1 68 KINGSDENE. 
 
 somehow I don't think you're a very 
 likely young woman ever to want for 
 friends." 
 
 " I mayn't want for them, but I may 
 want them all the same," says Stella 
 quietly. ''No, besides yourself, I have 
 but one real friend in the world, and that 
 is ' Collie ' here," and the girl stoops down 
 to lay her hand on a blaclv^and-tan head 
 which is rubbed lovingly against her at 
 the sound of its own name, 
 
 '' Collie " is rapidly developing into a 
 discreet and sober-minded dog, not lightly 
 led away ; though at times his canine 
 ideas of waggishness prompt him to in- 
 dulge in sundry unexpected gambols of an 
 alarming nature to the uninitiated ; such as 
 advancing across a room with ears cocked 
 and in short, quick bounds of apparent
 
 BONS CAMARADES, 169 
 
 evil intent, or sudden pounces on unwary 
 toes under the table. But the honest 
 lovingkindness in the expression of his 
 tan, foxy face, and in his brown eyes, dis- 
 arms all objection to any mischief on the 
 part of so thoroughly good-hearted a 
 young dog; and "Collie's" engaging 
 manners have gained him a well-de- 
 served popularity with both high and 
 low. 
 
 "Who knows but wiiat by the time I 
 return you Avill have found your affinity 
 
 in some W shire landowner. Star !" 
 
 observes Sir Gordon. " Why, I declare 
 you're blushing. Has he turned up already 
 then. Miss Stella, and have you been 
 hiding it from me all this time T and 
 Gordon Leslie takes his companion laugh- 
 ingly by the shoulders and wheels her
 
 17 o KTNGSDENE, 
 
 round so as to bring her hot crimson 
 cheeks face to face with him. 
 
 " Let me go. Please let me go, Gordon. 
 I'm really not blushing a bit/' and Stella 
 lays her little gloved hands on each fiery 
 cheek in defiance. 
 
 " Then I can only say that your ordi- 
 nary complexion is the same as that of a 
 turkey-cock sufiering from scarlet fever \ 
 Never mind that, though ; it's not the 
 fact of your being such a colour that I 
 wish to inquire into, but what caused you 
 to be so." 
 
 ^^ I don't think there's any reason," 
 begins Miss Kay hesitatingly ; "at least 
 not much of a one." 
 
 " All the same I should like to know it. 
 And if it's a tender subject at all, I'll give 
 in so far as to turn you with your back to
 
 SONS CAMARADES. 171 
 
 me instead of your face, whilst you make 
 your confession." 
 
 *^ No, you needn't ;" and a pair of mis- 
 chievous brown eyes meet his merry grey 
 ones calmly. ^' I'll tell you what made 
 me blush (if I did blush), and that is sheer 
 rage. I've been awfully insulted lately, 
 quite dreadfully, by a man having told 
 Aunt Brabazon that he wished to marry 
 
 me, and as he really is a W shire 
 
 landowner the cap rather fitted, do you 
 see « 
 
 '^ May I know who it was V asks 
 Gordon Leslie curiously, trying to com- 
 prehend and take in the astounding fact 
 that this Httle playmate of his is a grown- 
 up young woman whom men covet for a 
 wife. Somehow, though he has often 
 chaffed and laughed with her on the
 
 172 KINGSDENE. 
 
 subject, the idea of Stella Ray belonging 
 to another has never been realised in his 
 mind, and a strong feeling of at least 
 regret steals into it as he remembers how 
 often her affection and sympathy have 
 brightened the past to him. •'^^ 
 
 *^ It began the end of last summer," 
 answers the girl, ^^ when we^ were staying 
 a month or two at Kingsdene. He was 
 always coming over then, but Aunt Bra- 
 bazon saw most of him because I wouldn't. 
 I did hate him so, with his cold sneer, and 
 his scarcely concealed contempt for every 
 one except himself Gordon, I always 
 felt as if a snake were in the room when 
 that terrible old man came into it !" 
 
 '^ Old man 1" echoes Sir Gordon in sur- 
 prise. 
 / " Yes, it's old Lord Cunninghame I
 
 SONS CAMARADES. i;^ 
 
 mean ; he lives at Winncote Park, quite 
 near to Kingsdene, you know." 
 
 '' Good heavens aUve ! Mrs. Brabazon 
 would never think of wishing you to marry 
 that old — sinner !" exclaims Gordon Leslie, 
 correcting just in time a more forcible con- 
 clusion to his sentence. 
 
 " Indeed she would. He ranks high 
 in ' society/ you see," remarks Stella 
 bitterly. 
 
 Her companion looks unwontedly grave 
 as he paces slowly along beside her. The 
 character Lord Cunninghame bears,, 
 though high enough as regards the ordi- 
 nary standard of social requirements, is 
 not one to make any man rejoice at the 
 prospect of his daughter, sister, or friend 
 being consigned to the old man's tender 
 mercies as his wife. And Sir Gordon
 
 174 KINGSDENE. 
 
 Leslie with difficulty represses a torrent of 
 expletives levelled at the head of the 
 hoary libertine old peer, which would have 
 profoundly astonished that most polished 
 and courteous-mannered of sinners. 
 
 ^' Stella, you must promise me, dear, 
 never to think of marrying Lord Cunning- 
 hame," he says gravely. ^' I'm not strait- 
 laced, God knows, but I'd sooner see any 
 one I cared for dead than married to a 
 
 man like that I" 
 
 '^ You needn't fear, Gordon. No power 
 on earth should induce me even to think 
 of such a thing." 
 
 " I remember giving you good advice 
 once before, little girl, many years ago ; 
 and you took it so kindly then that I feel 
 emboldened to offer it again now. Not 
 but what I dare say you've totally for-
 
 BONS CAMARADES, 175 
 
 -gotten the occasion I speak of and my 
 words of wisdom then." 
 
 ** No," answers his companion quietly. 
 ^' You said : ^ Go your own line, only see 
 that it is a straight one, and try to keep 
 ^s honest and true at heart as you can.' " 
 
 " You remember it better than I do 
 myself. Star," and Gordon Leslie glances 
 keenly at her downcast face, as for the 
 first time a dim suspicion crosses his mind 
 that his quondam plaything has grown 
 into a living, loving woman. 
 
 '^And I shall remember it," responds 
 the girl briefly, but in a strangely earnest 
 tone. '^ Now, having decisively settled 
 Lord Cunningham e's merits and the exact 
 amount of appreciation they deserve." she 
 adds with a gay laugh, '^ let me hear some- 
 thing about your prospects, Gordon % Has
 
 176 KINGSDENE. 
 
 not the mythical heiress, whom all men 
 seem to go in quest of like a modern Holy- 
 Grail, appeared before your eyes yet T 
 
 The instant that the random words are 
 out of her mouth Miss Ray bites her lips 
 and flushes scarlet with vexation. Is not she 
 herself an heiress ? And would not many 
 men see a deeper meaning in her careless 
 speech than had ever been meant ? 
 
 But Gordon Leslie is too thorough a 
 gentleman not to take her words an 'pied 
 de la lettre simply, and he only answers 
 dreamily : 
 
 '^ I don't think that marrying for money 
 would ever be much in my line, Star ; 
 I'm too thin-skinned for it. If my wife 
 possessed the mines of Golconda them- 
 selves and yet ' clashed ' with my ideal, I 
 should simply hate her. No ! I have my
 
 SONS CAMARADES. 177 
 
 ideal, as I suppose all men have, and it 
 shall be Tnine in very truth some day, or 
 man is more powerless against fate than I 
 suppose !" and Sir Gordon's fair young face 
 flushes with earnestness as he speaks, and 
 his eyes kindle with '^ the light of other 
 days," as the memory of a soft white hand 
 and a bright cold smile set his heart beat- 
 ing as of yore. 
 
 Stella glances at him observantly, 
 noting the warm, living look which has 
 so suddenly crept over his gay insouciant 
 face, and with unerring perception comes 
 at once to the conclusion that nothing but 
 a woman could have caused so great a 
 change. Her heart feels sadder and 
 heavier somehow than it did a few minutes 
 ago, but she only asks in a tone of utter 
 unconcern : 
 
 VOL. I. 12
 
 178 KINGSDENE. 
 
 ^' Quelle est la femme, Gordon ? I've 
 told you all about my little idyl, mayn't I 
 hear the tale of yours ?" 
 
 " There's none to tell," answers Sir 
 Gordon shortly, for his companion's tone 
 of merry badinage accords ill with the 
 chivalrous and loyal devotion which he 
 feels towards the memory of his absent 
 love ; ^' and you don't care enough about me 
 to take much interest in my story, so wiiy 
 should I bore you with it ?" he adds, with 
 all the injustice of a man wdien talking to 
 the woman who loves him, and of the 
 woman whom he loves ! 
 
 Miss Ray's Avhite teeth leave their mark 
 on her little red underlip, but she only 
 answers : ' 
 
 ''Very well. Don't tell me anything, 
 Gordon. I'm accustomed to expending
 
 BONS CAMARADES. 179 
 
 my feeble sympathies on your behalf with- 
 out having the faintest idea of the why or 
 wherefore, so it's nothing new ;" but the 
 speaker's voice sounds forced, and even 
 Sir Gordon is roused from his memories at 
 the sound of the almost weary tone. 
 
 " Dear little girl, I didn't mean to vex 
 you," he exclaims with contrition. '^ Only 
 you see when one cares very much indeed 
 about any one, it's not easy to speak of 
 them as if it was just an ordinary every- 
 day subject^ and so 1-" The sentence is 
 
 brought to an abrupt conclusion as both 
 Sir Gordon and Stella spring hastily back 
 to avoid being knocked over by a neat 
 brougham^ which is being driven rapidly 
 past Albert Gate just as they are crossing 
 over the road on their homeward way. 
 Some one dressed in deep mourning is 
 
 12—2
 
 i8o KINGSDENE. 
 
 sitting within the carriage, and a fair cold 
 face leans forward to bow to Sir Gordon 
 Leslie as he raises his hat Avith a bright 
 sudden look of gladness that speaks 
 volumes to the ^uick j^ei'ceptions of the 
 girl standing beside him. 
 
 '^ So that is his ideal," she thinks to 
 herself sadly^ as with all a Avoman's acute- 
 ness in noting small details, she realises 
 that a more perfect contrast to herself 
 than the said " ideal " apparently exhibits 
 could scarce be found in all the length and 
 breadth of England. 
 
 Neither speaks a word during the rest 
 of their walk home. Sir Gordon is think- 
 ing of the past and building castles in the 
 air for the future, and Stella Ray is telling 
 herself again and again how beautiful was 
 the face she had just seen, and trying
 
 BONS CAMARADES. i8i 
 
 honestly to rejoice that her friend had 
 found the one piece of silver which alone 
 makes life perfect. Still, for the first 
 time, she is almost glad when they reach 
 home at last, and says good-bye more 
 hastily than is her wont, though she turns 
 and watches Gordon Leslie's tall slight 
 figure to the last, as he wends his way 
 slowly across the square, dreaming of all 
 the golden hours and sweet bright days 
 which have been conjured up before him 
 by a woman's smile.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 KINGSDENE. 
 
 " Here, where the world is quiet, 
 Here, where all trouble seems 
 Dead winds' and spent waves' riot 
 In doubtful dreams of dreams ; 
 I watch the green field growing 
 For reaping folk and sowing, 
 Fov harvest -time and mowing, 
 A sleepy world of streams." 
 
 Garden of Proserpine,
 
 OWAEDS the end of a long, hot 
 September day, two ladies were 
 sitting on the upper terrace at 
 Kino^sdene, eno^aofed in the favourite occu- 
 pation of drinking five o'clock tea. Mrs. 
 Brabazon was dressed in crape from head 
 to foot, and the widow's cap sitting some- 
 what awry on her head, announced to all 
 observers that Mr. Brabazon had taken 
 his departure to another and a better 
 world. 
 
 Since then the aunt and niece had
 
 1 86 KINGSDENE. 
 
 lived almost entirely alone together, for 
 Clara had taken advantage of the general 
 «oft-heartedness which a family loss is apt 
 to bring in its train, to quietly marry her 
 junior clerk in the Foreign Office, and it 
 being too early days as yet for the shoe 
 to pinch much, she was now as happy in 
 her own way as most selfish people 
 generally are. 
 
 Kingsdene was one of those large, 
 ramblino^ Elizabethan houses built of dark 
 red sandstone (now grey with age) which, 
 in spite of their size, always look comfort- 
 able, cheery, and homelike. Though not 
 standing on a hill, its garden descended in 
 two OTeat old-fashioned terraces down to 
 the edge of the small park which lay 
 between the house and the great London 
 road half a mile off, thereby giving it the
 
 KINGSDENE. 187 
 
 effect from that side of standing higher 
 than it really did. 
 
 These terraces were wide and long, and 
 edged with old grey walls on which stood 
 quaint stone sun-dials and old-fashioned 
 urns, bearing the arms and devices of 
 many an old race as nearly worn out as 
 themselves. 
 
 At each end of the lower terrace stood 
 two enormous yew-trees, as ancient as the 
 most time-worn part of the mansion itself, 
 and the peacock standing close by with his 
 gorgeous tail spread out in the sunshine, 
 seemed quite in keeping with the grandeur 
 of days gone by that seemed to hang over 
 the place. 
 
 The house itself, though large, possessed 
 so many small bright rooms with oriel 
 windows and deep wide fireplaces, that no
 
 KINGSDENE, 
 
 one could have dreamed of ever feelino- 
 lonely, or cold, or cheerless in it. An 
 immense hall,\ with flowers standing in 
 every corner of it and great tropical leaves 
 bowing their heads in welcome to all enter- 
 ing guests, led into the dining-room and 
 the large drawing-room, which latter was 
 
 furnished in the more modern stvle of 
 
 t/ 
 
 white and gold, and yellow damask. 
 But a door at the far-off end of the hall 
 took one into a small low room looking on 
 to the terrace, the sides of v/hich were 
 wainscoted oak from ceiling to floor, with 
 a wide open fireplace that could accommo- 
 date half a dozen at least on the oaken 
 settles within it. This was the special 
 room of the young mistress of the mansion, 
 where not only were kept her books, 
 paintings, and private belongings, but
 
 KINGSDENE. 189 
 
 where also was transacted all the business 
 •of the house, and the old steward inter- 
 viewed each month ; for since Stella Kay 
 had come of age (at nineteen, according 
 to her grandfather's will), she had proved 
 herself an energetic and most worthy 
 chatelaine of Kingsdene, doing her best to 
 learn how to fulfil the duties allotted to 
 her, and not to leave the trust which had 
 been given into her hands in those of 
 strangers. 
 
 Not but what her free, Bohemian nature 
 rebelled somewhat against the cut-and- 
 dry, business-like views of the old steward, 
 and she was apt to astonish that mild 
 functionary by some sudden reckless order 
 which, though effectual in its conclusion, 
 was far too hasty in its mode of arriving 
 at the said conclusion to appear at all
 
 I90 KINGSDENE. 
 
 seemly to that quiet, steady-going old 
 man. Still Stella had gained an immense 
 popularity amongst those who were poor 
 or dependent on her, for not only had she a 
 kind word and a bright look for high and 
 low, but when it was wanted, her quick 
 keen energy and decision of character 
 made her an invaluable friend in time of 
 trouble, whilst her own early years of 
 poverty helped her to read aright and 
 judge fairly of the truth or untruth in 
 all sorrows and complaints laid before 
 her. 
 
 With all her true brave woman's heart, 
 she had fought down the strength of her 
 hopeless love for Gordon Leslie ; and 
 though he would always have a place in 
 her life which no one else should ever 
 take, the girl had too much pride and
 
 KTNGSDENE. 191 
 
 simple common sense not to see the folly 
 of grieving over a misfortune for which 
 no one but herself was to blame, and 
 which hit hard herself alone. 
 
 So his memory was put away with sad 
 and loving regret, until such time as she 
 could bring herself to go back to the old 
 calm friendly affection of days gone by. 
 Until then she would bide her time 
 patiently. 
 
 " Stella, my dear, there were some 
 visitors came to call here to-day. Morland 
 came and asked me if he should let them 
 in, but I said I thought you were out, so 
 we decided not to." 
 
 '^ Quite right, auntie ; though I'll admit 
 that I was hiding behind the big Cape 
 jessamine in the conservatory all the 
 time."
 
 192 KINGS DENE. 
 
 " But why, my dear ? Who were the 
 people ?" 
 
 " Oh, only that big noisy Mr. Brown- 
 over and his equally noisy wife, who live 
 on the other side of Winncote. I don't 
 like them." 
 
 ^^ I don't think they're a bad sort of 
 people," observed Mrs. Brabazon in her 
 kind hearty voice. " They're a little loud 
 and noisy certainly, but I think it's only 
 their way, Stella ; it's good-natured chaff 
 generally, after all." 
 
 ^^ Yes, but scattered crumbs of good- 
 natured chaff can easily be rolled into a 
 little hard ball of spite that could hit 
 pretty severely," responded her niece 
 dryly, whose confidence in her fellow- 
 creatures was somewhat less than was that 
 -of her relative.
 
 KINGSDENE. 193 
 
 " Well, you know your own likings 
 best," said the latter good-humouredly ; 
 '^ but it's dull work for a blithe little body 
 like you to see no one but an old aunt 
 from morning till night. I wonder 
 whether Lord Cunninghame has come to 
 Winncote yet ;" and Mrs. Brabazon glances 
 ■cautiously at Stella to see how the latter 
 move will be taken by that young 
 lady. 
 
 '^I neither know nor care," she answered 
 shortly. 
 
 '' But he has been so kind in giving us 
 opera-boxes and sending you flowers all 
 last season, that it would seem a little 
 rude were we to ignore him totally should 
 he come down here, my dear." 
 
 '* Time enough when he comes then, 
 auntie," said Stella gaily. ^' Don't let us 
 
 VOL, I. 13
 
 194 KINGSDENE. 
 
 lose our tempers over him until it's 
 necessary. ^\(lio is that riding up the 
 drive now?" she added inquiringly, shading 
 her eyes with one hand to get a better 
 look at a spare bent figure on a stepping^ 
 grey cob, which was slowly approaching 
 the house. 
 
 " It's the very man we were speakings 
 of," answered Mrs. Brabazon, with a 
 guilty knowledge that in her pocket at 
 that very minute lay a note from Lord 
 Cunninghame declaring his intention of 
 riding over to see the two ladies that same 
 afternoon. 
 
 " Talk of the devil, ahem ! Then you 
 knew he was coming, aunt V and Miss 
 Ray turned quickly and gave a keen 
 glance at her companion as she spoke. 
 
 '' Well, I had an idea — I mean he said
 
 KINGSDENE. 195 
 
 — yes, I rather did think he'd come 
 to-day, Stella," responded Mrs. Brabazon 
 desperately, floundering between a desire 
 to speak the truth, and a still stronger one 
 to conceal it, lest her niece's insubordina- 
 tion on this subject should be openly 
 manifested to the expected visitor. 
 
 But Stella said not a word, and re- 
 mained sitting beside the tea-table with 
 more resignation than could have been ex- 
 pected from her ; only the quick curl of 
 her lip, and the significant ^^ devil's tattoo " 
 beaten on the gravel by her small foot, 
 boded ill for the success of Miss Bay's 
 elderly admirer, who was shortly after 
 ushered on to the terrace where the ladies 
 were sittinof. 
 
 Francis Verulam, Lord Cunninghame, 
 was one of a class common enough in. the 
 
 13—2
 
 196 KINGSDENE. 
 
 last generation, almost unknown in this. 
 Polished and \courteous in manner, quiet 
 and cynical in speech, grand seigneur 
 from the crown of his fine-shaped head to 
 the sole of his aristocratic foot — yet few 
 men were more hated by all classes than 
 himself; for his imperious manner to- 
 wards those beneath him had left him few 
 friends to boast of there, whilst his keen 
 perception of weakness in others and his 
 sarcastic tongue made him equally feared 
 and disliked by most of his own confreres. 
 
 To do the man justice he had one great 
 and good point in his nature, for neither 
 in his young days, when he had enjoyed 
 the doubtful reputation of being the 
 wildest man of a very wild time, nor in 
 his older ones, when he was universally 
 acknowledged to be in some ways the
 
 KINGSDENE. 197 
 
 wickedest, had the honour of the Veru- 
 lams' ancient house ever suffered in word 
 or deed at his hands. Conservative to 
 the backbone in all tenets, actions, and 
 thoughts, he was liberal in one principle 
 alone : that of regarding his neighbour s 
 possessions as his own, whether it were 
 the latters house, horses, servants, or 
 wife ; and being as yet unblest with that 
 latter and crowning anxiety to a man's 
 life, no house in return was more 
 thoroughly placed at the disposal of his 
 guests than was his family mansion of 
 Winncote and all contained therein. 
 
 His best friends averred that it would 
 be an utter impossibility to convey to 
 Lord Cunninghame's mind that there 
 had been known such phenomena as 
 w^omen who were truly good, pure, and
 
 198 KINGSDENE. 
 
 religious ; for he had bigoted ideas of his 
 own on that subject, and seldom missed 
 an opportunity when in men's society of 
 avowing his decisive opinion : that he had 
 never known but one good woman in the 
 world, and she had been his own mother. 
 (There were enemies of his who added : 
 that in making the latter exception he was 
 perhaps not wholly disinterested.) 
 
 In outward appearance Lord Cunning- 
 hame was tall and thin, of the type of 
 countenance one associates with the pa- 
 tricians of old ; a man who in olden times 
 would have gone to his death on the 
 scaffold with a white rose on his breast 
 and a smile on his pale refined face ; and 
 who would calmly have taken a pinch of 
 snuff whilst looking on at the preparations 
 for the death of his best friend, or for his
 
 KINGSDENE. 199 
 
 own. His clear-cut mouth had always 
 either a sneer on its thin, bloodless lips, 
 or else a suave polished smile, which had 
 as much warmth in it as the gleam of a 
 northern light seen on a midsummer's eve 
 in the far north; and in the studied de- 
 ference of his manner to women, and the 
 €ynical courtesy of his speech to men, 
 could be traced the precepts of those who 
 had been the profoundest worshipper^ of 
 Voltaire, Rochefoucauld, and that great list 
 of brother cynics, who long ere this have 
 .solved the problems which even tlieir 
 learning and wisdom, and knowledge of 
 human nature, were unable to fathom 
 whilst here on earth. 
 
 Looking at him as he walked slowly 
 across the terrace from the house, Lord 
 Cunninghame looked every inch a gentle-
 
 200 KINGSDENE. 
 
 man de Vancien recjime ; and yet it needed 
 but a glance at. the expression of his quiet 
 sardonic face, to make one understand the 
 bitter enmity that has so often ere now 
 sprung up between high and low, plebeian 
 and patrician, even to raising many an 
 historical and sanguinary monument before 
 our eyes, lest we should e'en go our way 
 and forget the lessons taught us in times> 
 gone by. 
 
 " This is really good of you, Lord Cun- 
 ninghame," bursts out Mrs. Brabazon with 
 hurried warmth and outstretched hand^ 
 striving vainly to conceal and atone for 
 her niece's calm curtness of manner 
 towards the new addition to their 
 society. 
 
 " Not at all, my dear madam. On the 
 contrary, it is I who am heavily indebted
 
 KJNGSDENE. 20i 
 
 to you. Instead of a solitary afternoon 
 at Winncote, only enlivened by the com- 
 plaint of some wretched beggar who pro- 
 fesses to have his family roof-tree tumbling 
 down on his head (I think my tenants- 
 take a special delight in annoying me by 
 their sensitiveness on that score), I find 
 myself in the society of two charming^ 
 ladies, and sitting in a beautiful garden, 
 which as yet has deferred clothing iti^elf 
 in those autumnal tints so much beloved 
 by artists, but so little appreciated by 
 those who, like myself, see enough of the 
 ' sere and vellow leaf ' in their own faces 
 and hearts. What more can a man have 
 left him to desire V 
 
 Miss Bay's lip curled more than ever,, 
 but she only commented on the first part 
 of her visitor's speech :
 
 202 KINGSDENE. 
 
 "• I have heard that the cottages round 
 Winncote are some of them very 
 bad." 
 
 '' The people say so," answered Lord 
 Cunninghame with a shght shrug of his 
 high, narrow shoulders, as if to express 
 his total disbelief in anything like 
 truth being found amongst the lower 
 orders. 
 
 " But couldn't you see for yourself, 
 Lord Cunninghame T inquired Stella 
 earnestly, to whose ears many reports had 
 come of the dirt, sickness, and misery to 
 be found amongst the badly-drained, ill- 
 ventilated cottages on the large Winncote 
 estate. 
 
 " My dear Miss Ray," (and Lord Cun- 
 ninghame carefully removed a crumb of 
 cake from the cuff of his black coat, after
 
 KINGSDENE. 203 
 
 handing a small piece of the same to 
 ^' Collie," who had deprecatinglj laid one 
 tan paw on his knee), ^' I too was unso- 
 phisticated and enthusiastic at your age, 
 and full of plans for the remedying of all 
 evils under the sun ; but a quoi hon to try 
 and raise up a class which by every law of 
 nature is meant to remain in the ignorance 
 that alone makes bliss. You could make 
 the Ethiopian change his skin, and the 
 leopard his spots, ere you could make the 
 lower orders aught but canaille.^' 
 
 Stella Rav did not answer, but looked 
 gravely across the park and out towards 
 the distant London road, a cloud of dust 
 on which showed where the wagons were 
 returning heavily laden from the harvest- 
 fields, in charge of those who had borne the 
 burden and heat of the day to gather
 
 204 KINGSDENE. 
 
 bread for this man, and such as he, to 
 eat. 
 
 *^ I don't understand enough about it all 
 to argue with any one as clever as your- 
 self, Lord Cunninghame," she said at last, 
 *' so let us come and take a turn in the 
 rose-garden instead, if you won't have any 
 more tea ? I have found a bush of late 
 roses there that is really a sight worth 
 looking at." 
 
 And Stella led the way wdth a 
 graciousness most unusual to her manner 
 when conversing with that elderly noble- 
 man. 
 
 Mrs. Brabazon found an unexpected 
 errand to the drawing-room imperative ; 
 so the two paced slowly down the terrace, 
 and turned into the sheltered, quaint old 
 garden kept sacred to the queen of flowers
 
 KINGSDENE. 205 
 
 a,lone, and where one or two standards of 
 Gloire cle Dijon and the later blooming 
 roses still held their own against the 
 -damp; decaying autumn air.
 
 %
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 NOT TO BE BOUGHT WITH GOLD. 
 
 " The burden of bright colours. Thou shalt see 
 Gold tarnished, and the grey above the green ; 
 And as the thing thou seest thy face shall be, 
 And no more as the thing before time seen. 
 And thou shalt say of mercy ' It hath been,' 
 
 And living, watch the old lips and loves expire, 
 And talking, tears shall take thy breath between : 
 This is the end of every man's desire." 
 
 A Ballad of Burdens,
 
 \ 
 
 %
 
 I HAT a deliglitfiil old place this 
 is !" observed Lord Cunning-, 
 hame, as they sauntered down 
 the sunlit grassy paths intersecting the 
 Tose-garden. '^ One can easily imagine 
 what a favourite try sting- place it must 
 have been for the court ladies and their 
 ♦gallants in the good old days of Queen 
 Bess, when, in affaires de cceur at least, it 
 was every man for himself." And he 
 laughed a low wicked laugh as he took a 
 pinch of snuff. 
 
 VOL. I. 14
 
 2IO KTNGSDENE. 
 
 This was a habit which Lord Cunning- 
 hame prided himself on retaining, thougli 
 it had long since died out even amongst- 
 the men of his own generation. He 
 acknowledged its inconveniences, but 
 maintained that it was the only vice- 
 which the lower orders had more or less. 
 left to the hiofher ones, and could there- 
 fore never be too highty prized by the 
 latter. 
 
 " Yes, it is a dear old place," assented 
 Stella Hay, and her eyes brightened at the- 
 praise of her dearly-loved home. 
 
 *' But don't you ever feel dull here 
 living as quietly as you do, Miss 
 Ray r 
 
 This independent, out-spoken young 
 heiress, who let him see so plainly that 
 she neither loved nor feared him, was
 
 NOT TO BE BOUGHT WITH GOLD. 211 
 
 rather an enigma to Lord Cunninghame ; 
 and though at first it had been the con- 
 venient dovetaiHng of the Kingsdene and 
 Winncote estates which had been the 
 attraction towards his offering up himself 
 and the far-famed Cunninghame diamonds 
 to the shrine of Miss Stella Hay, of late 
 a feeling of almost respect had grown up 
 in his heart for the girl who so steadily 
 declined any part or share in the matri- 
 monial advances which her relatives had 
 made towards him on her behalf. Still, 
 his firm belief that ^' every woman has her 
 price,^ and that a far lower one than the 
 Cunninghame diamonds, made him con- 
 fident of his success as a Avooer ; and 
 though he had ridden over to Kingsdene, 
 determined to try his fate this very day, 
 there was neither timidity nor anxiety 
 
 14—2
 
 212 KINGSDENE. 
 
 expressed on his clever, still face, 
 as he vainly tried to read the expres- 
 sion on the grave honest one beside 
 him. 
 
 " I don't know what it is to be dull," 
 answered Stella, "• there's so much to do 
 in the country. Now in London I cer- 
 tainly was bored to death sometimes, I'll 
 acknowledge." 
 
 *^ But you wouldn't have been had you 
 tried it under a new phase. What woman 
 was ever * bored ' in London if she had 
 unlimited horses and carriages, dresses, 
 diamonds, and opera-boxes V 
 
 And again Lord Cunninghame laughed 
 to himself as he remembered how many a 
 once true heart had sold itself, and many 
 a fair white soul had played its last stake, 
 for the sake of even a few months'
 
 NOT TO BE BOUGHT WITH GOLD. 213 
 
 enjoyment of those glittering pleasures he 
 spoke of. 
 
 *' No, perhaps I should have liked it 
 then/' admitted Stella frankly. 
 
 The opportunity was not to be lost. 
 
 " Miss Ray, I came here to-day to speak 
 to you on a subject of great importance 
 to myself, though I scarcely dare think 
 it may be of as much to you. May I 
 speak T 
 
 The slight tremble in Lord Cunning- 
 hame's voice was a studied reflex of the 
 tremor which had shaken his very heart 
 and soul long time ago, as he pleaded for 
 dear life with the one woman whose 
 memory his many years of wasted love 
 and life had been unable even yet utterly 
 to drive from out his selfish heart — his 
 one, first love! True, he had sacrificed
 
 214 KINGSDENE. 
 
 her as easily as he had done all others, but 
 her vengeance lay in his inability to forget 
 her true good face, and sweet, loving 
 words, and as long as life should last, no 
 other woman's eyes would ever look so 
 faithfully into his as did those of his old, 
 dead love ! 
 
 '' Certainly, Lord Cunninghame." 
 The answer was courteous, but the tone 
 scarcely encouraging. 
 
 '' I came here to-day intent on dis- 
 covering if those dreams of happiness 
 which have of late seemed almost less 
 visionary than usual, were in good truth 
 likely at last to take a real shape and 
 jorm ; and whether in these, my later 
 years at least, I should taste of the cup 
 whose sweetness has so long been with- 
 held from me — I mean that of home-
 
 NOT TO BE BOUGHT WITH GOLD. 215 
 
 happiness. I am a solitary man, Miss 
 Ray, and years of loneliness, even more 
 than age, have made me little fitted for 
 the companionship of one so young and 
 bright as yourself; but if you will marry 
 me, I swear to Heaven you shall not 
 repent it, and whatsoever man can do to 
 give you happiness, that all shall be 
 yours !" 
 
 '' It cannot be. Lord Cunninghame.* I 
 am sorry, but I could not marry you." 
 
 For the first time in his life, did his own 
 self-appreciation fail to blind Lord Cun- 
 ninofhame as to the decisive nature of this 
 the only repulse he had ever known. 
 
 '' You cannot ! and why V 
 
 The suavity had left his voice, 
 and a stern harsh tone had taken its 
 place.
 
 2i6 KINGSDENE. 
 
 ''Because I do not like you, Lord 
 Cunningiiame, and — will you be angry T 
 
 " No ; proceed !" 
 
 ''And I wouldn't marry you even if 
 my last hope of life depended on my 
 doing so." 
 
 " Again may I ask why ?" 
 
 " It's not because you're old," and the 
 obnoxious adjective sounded almost sweet 
 when said in those clear young pitying^ 
 tones, " for I should not have minded that 
 so very much, but every thought and 
 feeling of yours and mine would be 
 different, Lord Cunninghame, and how 
 then could we know haj)piness ? You 
 hate the poor, I love them ; you dislike a 
 country life, I could not live without it ; your 
 pleasures are all great ones, mine so small 
 that you could not even see any pleasure
 
 NOT TO BE BOUGHT WITH GOLD. 217 
 
 in them. No, believe me, I am grateful 
 to you " (a slight curl of the lip somewhat 
 contradicted the speaker's words), " but 
 were I to accept what you have offered 
 me, I should be doing you a terrible 
 injustice, and myself a wrong, which 
 neither time nor years could efface." 
 
 Lord Cunninsfhame remained silent, as 
 Stella's low, decisive tones rang out his 
 rejection. Not that he realised even yet 
 that her answer was anything more than 
 a woman's ^^ nay," nor that her decision 
 was meant as final ; but the thought of 
 defeat began to lend a new and strange 
 value to victory, and for the first 
 time he began to feel in earnest in his 
 wooing. 
 
 ^^ You are right. Miss Ray, and though 
 I am the sufferer, I cannot say otherwise.
 
 2i8 -- KINGSDENE. 
 
 What right have I to dream that you, in 
 the spring-time of youth, and ha23piness, 
 and beauty, would marry one to whom 
 these things sound but as a story from far- 
 off years ? Only I would have tried so 
 ha,rd to make you forget the disparity of 
 years between us, if you had given me the 
 trial. Won't you think it over once more 
 before you give me your final decision ? I 
 know that at my age, and with my grey 
 hairs " (to do his lordship justice, the 
 latter, thanks to the exertions of Messrs. 
 Truefitt, were almost invisible), '^ I am no 
 fitting match for you, who are only in the 
 dawn of your womanhood, but I have 
 much to offer that could give a woman 
 hcippiness, and no stone should be left 
 unturned to gain it for you. Will you not 
 give me the smallest hope 1"
 
 NOT TO BE BOUGHT WITH GOLD. 219 
 
 ** No, I cannot." 
 
 Lord Cunninghame smiled sarcastically, 
 and continued : 
 
 '' Then may I ask why you were good 
 enough to receive me as courteously as 
 you did to-day, and why you acceded so 
 readily to my wish for conversation with 
 your fair self, when you knew perfectly 
 well what was the subject I wished to 
 speak on % Was it to encourage ma in 
 forgetting for the moment how many 
 summers have passed over my head, or 
 was it that you might have the pleasure 
 of knowing you had contributed one more 
 instance to fill the record of man's folly 
 a.nd woman's vanity, that you did this 
 thing T 
 
 Stella's face flushed crimson at the 
 taunt, and her eyes blazed as she drew
 
 220 KINGSDENE. 
 
 herself up to her full height and faced 
 her foe. 
 
 ^' You're wicked, vevij wicked to say 
 such things, Lord Cunninghame, and were 
 I a man, and you not an old one, I should 
 like to punish you as you deserve." 
 
 His lordship smiled sardonically and 
 took a pinch of snuff. A man who had 
 been ^' out " with some of the most noted 
 duellists of his day, could afford to despise 
 all threats of imaginary vengeance. 
 
 ^^ I was civil to you to-day because- 
 I wanted to get it over — that was all." 
 
 ^' Get ivliat over, Miss Kay'?" and the 
 keen eyes quietly scrutinised her angry 
 face. 
 
 " Why your — ■ that is — I mean I 
 thought you did mean to ask me to marry 
 you," answered Stella, flushing hotter than
 
 NOT TO BE BOUGHT WITH GOLD. 221 
 
 over but speaking out bravely, '^and so 
 I wanted to tell you at once that it was 
 quite — quite irapossible ; to save you the 
 trouble, you know." 
 
 *' Very good of you, I must say ; but 
 you should have remembered that what is 
 •often done to others for their good, fre- 
 quently ends by doing them a very great 
 deal of harm. Forgive me if I have 
 angered you, Miss Hay, and let us t>e 
 friends. Remember, that in asking you to 
 be my wife, I have but paid you the 
 highest compliment that any man can pay 
 any woman, and even now I can scarcely 
 see why you should have rejected my 
 offer so decisively." 
 
 *' Because I cannot love you, and no 
 woman should marry you without that," 
 was the steady answer.
 
 KFNGSDENE. 
 
 For once in his life does Lord Cunninof- 
 hame feel that there is a power in human 
 hearts which is far greater than he had 
 dreamed of in his philosophy ; and a 
 strange yearning comes over his soul for 
 the days so long gone by, when he too 
 had had the power to make women's eyes 
 droop before the fire in his own,iand pale 
 cheeks to flush at the passionate fervour 
 of words which then came from the heart 
 alone. *^ 
 
 " Good-bye, Miss Ray," is all he says 
 simply; but as Stella holds out her hand 
 quickly and looks him straight in the face 
 with her honest brown eyes, he adds 
 slowly : " And thank you for having 
 treated what was perhaps a more pre- 
 sumptuous offer than I thought, with the 
 kind good sense which at least leaves me
 
 NOT TO BE BOUGHT WITH GOLD. 225 
 
 the power to call you ' friend,' if nothing 
 
 more." 
 
 And he turns and walks back to the- 
 house, from whence in a few more minutes 
 the stepping grey cob carries him away as- 
 sedately as before. 
 
 As he rides along on the way towards^ 
 his grand solitary home, the scene which 
 he has just passed through in the rose- 
 garden appears again and again before 
 him, for strange to say it was the first 
 time in his life that a woman had said 
 him nay ; and yet, in spite of all, he 
 cannot but respect the outspoken girl 
 whose honesty of heart and purpose had 
 remained proof even against the glittering 
 temptation of the Cunninghame diamonds. 
 Still, he was sorry, for he felt lonely at 
 last ; and even the renouncing of his
 
 224 KINGSDENE. 
 
 liberty would have been a small sacrifice 
 compared to the possession of a bright 
 young face that would lend radiance to his 
 life and home. 
 
 Was it fancy that brought before him 
 to-day of all others, the fair sweet face of 
 his dead love of old ? Even now he can 
 once more see the trusting look in her 
 deep blue eyes as they were raised to his 
 with the faith which even to the last 
 remained so firmly true. Never again, 
 Lord Cunninghame, will you see that 
 look in woman's eyes — never, never 
 
 again. 
 
 Meantime Stella had remained standing 
 in the rose-garden where he had left her. 
 Her cheeks burned still at the recollection 
 of the unpleasant ordeal she had just gone 
 through, and yet like a very woman, she
 
 NOT TO BE BOUGHT WITH GOLD. 225 
 
 felt ready to excuse even a man as old as 
 was her late suitor, for betraying the folly 
 <over which she might have reigned as 
 queen ; and an unpleasant idea came home 
 to her that she would find some difficulty 
 in soothing Mrs. Brabazon's indignation 
 ^over the treatment of that lady's pet 
 protege, Francis Lord Cunninghame. 
 
 A short bark of impatience from 
 ■*' Collie," who was anxiously awaiting a 
 move on the part of his young mistress^ 
 -aroused her to the fact that the sooner she 
 broke the news to her expectant relative 
 the better. 
 
 " Though we've done quite right, 
 ■^ Collie, ' my dog I very, very right," she 
 said confidentially to her canine friend, 
 who wriggled his black-and-tan body into 
 the most ghastly contortions, and grinned 
 
 VOL. I. 15
 
 226 KINGSDENE, 
 
 to show his fine teeth, and said more with 
 his eyes and tail than many Christians 
 could have done in words. 
 
 ^^Well?" ejaculated her aunt, in a tone 
 of breathless suspense, as Stella walked 
 quietly into the drawing-room where that 
 lady was making believe to be very busy 
 sorting wools of the most impossible 
 colours and shades. 
 
 " Well, aunt," answered her hardened 
 niece, '' why didn't you come out again 
 just now T 
 
 ^' Because I thought my room was 
 better than my compan}^, just that, my 
 dear !" 
 
 ^^ Perhaps it was for once, auntie, for it 
 gave me a chance of telling Lord Cun- 
 ninghame my mind." 
 
 ^' My dear Stella, did he propose to
 
 NOT TO BE BOUGHT WITH GOLD. 227 
 
 you?" inquired Mrs. Brabazon breath- 
 lessly. 
 
 '' Yes, I think so." 
 
 '' Thinh so ! why you must know, 
 child." 
 
 '' Well, yes, he did, I suppose, though 
 at one time I wasn't so sure that I hadn't 
 declined the honour of his hand before it 
 had ever been offered to me." 
 
 '' DecHned ? Then you've actually re- 
 fused him ! Oh, Stella, Stella !" and tears 
 of mortification fairly rolled down Mrs. 
 Brabazon's cheeks. 
 
 '' I m afraid I did, auntie ; but you 
 mustn't cry over spilt milk, you know." 
 
 "Yes, but the diamonds, and the two 
 properties joining so nicely," moaned 
 Mrs. Brabazon, utterly refusing to be 
 comforted. 
 
 15—2
 
 228 KINGSDENE. 
 
 ''And what good would they be to 
 me if I married a man I hated, and 
 were simply miserable T inquired Stella 
 calmly. 
 
 Mrs. Brabazon vouchsafed no reply 
 beyond a feeble sob of intense disappoint- 
 ment at the failure of all her longf- 
 cherished hopes of seeing Stella become 
 Lady Cunninghame. Still, finding her- 
 self no match for the latter's clear, plain 
 arguments^ and gradually thawing before 
 the influence of the girl's gay, loving 
 manner, she finally gave up the contest 
 with a good grace, though ponderous sighs 
 during all the rest of the evening testified 
 mutely to the force of the disappointment 
 which the events of that day had brought 
 her.
 
 CHAPTEE XIT. 
 
 A MERRY CHRISTMAS. 
 
 " Forget not yet the tried intent 
 Of such a truth as I have meant, 
 My great travail so gladly spent, 
 Forget not yet I 
 
 " Forget not yet when first began 
 The weary life ye know, since whan 
 The suit, the service none tell can ; 
 Forget not yet ! 
 
 " Forget not then thine own approved, 
 The which so long hath thee so loved, 
 Whose steadfast faith yet never moved — 
 Forget not this !" 
 
 Sir T. Wyat.
 
 T is Christmas Eve, and in spite 
 of a bitter east wind and an 
 occasional fall of sleet and snow, 
 there is brightness over all the land. 
 Bright blaze the fires in the old mansion 
 •of Kingsdene, and brighter still look the 
 faces of the church choir as they stand in 
 the grand old hall that is hung round with 
 liolly and mistletoe, and sing their time- 
 lionoured hymns of praise for the *^ peace 
 on earth and goodw^ill towards men " which 
 the morrow will commemorate.
 
 232 KINGSDENE. 
 
 Bright too look the streets of our great 
 metropohs to-night, and even a shght 
 London fog can scarcely dim the clear 
 starlight shining so pure and cold above 
 the well-lit, busy streets. Crowds of 
 women pass to and fro, laden with baskets 
 containing good things for the Christmas 
 dinner to-morrow% and each man as he 
 meets his fellow nods a more cheery 
 *' good-night " than is his wont. The 
 children (to whom alone '* a merry Christ- 
 mas" is a realitv still and no vao^ue 
 memory only) are most of them asleej) by 
 now ; the happy ones because they must 
 needs wake next morning so very early 
 (is it not Christmas Day to-morrow ?), the 
 desolate ones because, even to them, at 
 night comes the one solace of their miser- 
 able lives : the waters of Lethe, a dream- 
 less sleep.
 
 A MERRY CHRISTMAS. 233 
 
 Even the latest condemned prisoner, 
 who only a month ago was a gay light- 
 hearted village lad, whose hot blood was 
 given as his excuse for words and blows 
 too often meant in bitter earnest^ and now 
 lying on his straw bed in gaol under 
 sentence of death for the murder of a 
 comrade — even he is sleeping as peacefully 
 as a little child on this, his last Christmas 
 Eve. Who knows what dreams of the 
 happy days of yore come before his mind \ 
 dreams in which the very lad who died 
 by his hand so few short weeks ago, was 
 still his brother and his friend. A smile 
 as sweet as a woman's sweeps over his 
 care-worn, sleeping face, and once more he 
 hears his comrade's merry laugh as they 
 strolled through the fields together last 
 Christmas morning, and the awful scenes
 
 234 KINGSDENE. 
 
 through which he has so lately passed 
 fade away like a nightmare when day is 
 dawning. Gone is the memory of the 
 liot crowded court, the sarcasms of con- 
 tending lawyers, the hitter angry faces of 
 a mob crying out in a silence plainer than 
 ivords, '^ Blood for blood," and the shame- 
 stricken, shrinking figure at the bar ; and 
 vanished too are the cold clear tones of 
 the judge as he pronounces the awful sen- 
 tence, ^^ to be hung by the neck until you 
 are dead," and the falter that shakes his 
 voice as he solemnly adds, '' and may God 
 have mercy upon your soul !" 
 
 But no brighter look is on any man's 
 face to-night than on that of Sir Gordon 
 Leslie, as he jumps out of his hansom at 
 the door of Long's Hotel in Bond Street, 
 about eleven p.m., on his return after an
 
 A MERRY CHRISTMAS. 235 
 
 absence of many months ; and though the 
 •decisive negative given to the usual 
 inquiry : '^ Any letters for me T brings a 
 momentary frown upon it, all is speedily 
 forgotten before the physical comforts of 
 an excellent supper and a bottle of 
 Clicquot's best, and still more in dreams 
 of the great joy awaiting him to- 
 morrow. 
 
 In one more hour will have dawned tbe 
 •day so anxiously hoped, so wearily waited 
 for — when he can go to the woman whom 
 he has loved so long and so faithfully, and 
 ask for his reward at last. 
 
 What will she say ? How will she look ? 
 ** She cannot look anything else but beauti- 
 ful, she must be all that is sweet and 
 true," thinks the man who would count 
 the world well lost for sake of her.
 
 236 KINGSDENE, 
 
 Since he had gone abroad, now many 
 months ago, he had only written two or 
 three times to Ida Vilhers ; in the first 
 letter he had plainly intimated that out of 
 respect for herself he should never seek to 
 be more to her than the most ordinary 
 friend, until such a time as he could come 
 forward and try to win her as his wife in 
 the face of the whole world. 
 
 The man's very refinement of nature 
 made him heartily approve of the extreme 
 frigidity of Ida's replies to him. Not for 
 worlds would he have had his j)ure fair 
 lily forget the honour due unto the man 
 sleeping so calmly in his grave under the 
 blue Italian skies ; and day by day he 
 raised his ideal higher, and worshipped 
 before it with more and more infatuation 
 of mind, as only strong reckless natures da
 
 A MERRY CHRISTMAS. 237 
 
 who love for the first time, and almost 
 invariably love without return. 
 
 He looks at his watch impatiently. It 
 is only one o'clock, and more than twelve 
 hours must elapse before common etiquette 
 will allow him to go and see Mrs. Villiers. 
 Still it is the same day now, any way, and 
 the thought of that alone brings unspeak- 
 able happiness with it ; and so Gordon 
 Leslie's dreams, when he does at last 
 betake himself to bed, are as radiant and 
 joyous as any man's on this whole earth 
 to-night. 
 
 Outside the wind still blows in cold and 
 bitter blasts, and the snowflakes fall silently 
 one by one in their stilly whiteness on 
 the now deserted streets; but ^^ peace 
 on earth " already reigns over more than 
 half the world, and "goodwill towards
 
 238 KINGSDENE. 
 
 men" must come with the morning^'s 
 sun. 
 
 •55- •35- -JS- -5^ ^k 
 
 It is the afternoon of Christmas Day, 
 and two people are together in the quiet, 
 
 prettily-furnished rooms in C Street,. 
 
 which Mrs. Villiers has made her home 
 of late. The fire burns cheerily in the grate,, 
 and crackles out a " Merry Christmas " 
 to the frosty sunbeam which is peeping in 
 at the window and making odd lights and 
 shadows to dance over the light blue walls 
 and soft Cretonne chintzes all around. 
 But it can give no brightness to the cold 
 pale face of Ida Villiers as she stands 
 confronting the stern, angry man, who 
 strives to the very last in hojDing against 
 hope, for very love's sake. 
 
 ^^ Ida, Ida, you cannot mean it T
 
 A MERRY CHRISTMAS. 239. 
 
 '^ I do mean it, Sir Gordon," and the 
 speaker's voice rings out pitilessly calm 
 and clear. 
 
 '^ You wish me to believe that you were 
 playing me false all along '? That the 
 woman I have so loved and worshipped 
 was nothing more than an ordinary coquette, 
 who leads men on until they would ruin 
 body and soul for her, and then says : ^ Go, 
 I want you no more !' Ida, for your sal^e 
 and mine, I dare not think it true." 
 
 " You may say what you please, or think 
 what you like about me. Sir Gordon, but 
 one fact remains : that I do not marry you!" 
 
 '^ Why not ? For pity's sake, Avhy not ? 
 Have I not been as true to you as mortal 
 man can be, and did you not know that 
 whilst you lived no other woman could 
 ever come between us V
 
 240 KJNGSDENE. 
 
 "Yes, I know," and in spite of herself 
 Ida Villiers' voice falters, and a weak 
 desire creeps into her heart to tell him 
 how she too had often thought of his kind, 
 handsome face, which never yet has looked 
 coldly on her. 
 
 '' Then why won't you care for me now 
 as you did a year ago ?" breaks out Sir 
 Gordon passionately. '^ What is it, Ida, 
 that comes between us T 
 
 For an instant she hesitates. Is the 
 future really worthy of the present sacri- 
 fice ? she vaguely wonders. But it is too 
 late to think of that now ! And though 
 her cheeks grow paler and paler, and her 
 hands play nervously with her jewelled 
 rings like one ill at ease, she sjoeaks out 
 his sentence and her own. 
 
 ^^ What comes between us, you ask, Sir
 
 A MERRY CHRISTMAS. 241 
 
 Cordon T she says with a hard, low laugh. 
 *' Only this : that I am going to marry 
 Liord Cunninghame within a month from 
 
 now." 
 
 '^ Marry Lord Cunninghame !" 
 
 For a moment he cannot grasp her 
 meaning fully; then it strikes home to 
 his heart and mind in all its bitter force. 
 
 " Ida, my darling, I cannot believe it ! 
 Have you so soon forgotten our happy 
 *days of long ago, when for the first time in 
 my life I learnt to love as no man ever 
 loves again ? Have you forgotten the 
 long bright days, the sweet still even- 
 ings ? O God I can you forget all V and 
 the speaker's fair, handsome face is lined 
 with agony. 
 
 " I have forgotten long since," answers 
 Mrs. Villiers in a low, almost sullen voice. 
 
 VOL. I. 16
 
 242 KINGSDENE. 
 
 '^What pleasure will life bring to you 
 if you marry such a man as that, Mrs.. 
 Villiers ? 'Twere better far that you had 
 to work for your daily bread, than sell all 
 that is pure and good in you to live with a 
 man whom you neither love nor respect !" 
 
 " I have worked for my daily bread,, 
 and for that very reason can judge for 
 myself of what I am doing, better than 
 even you can, Sir Gordon." 
 
 '' But when there is no necessity for you 
 to work, Ida ? I am not a rich man, but. 
 I have enough money to give you all you 
 could desire, darling. For God's sake 
 don't throw me over for that ! If vou had 
 learnt to care for any one who was a real 
 good fellow — and I knew you could not 
 help it, dear — Heaven knows I should have 
 been the last to speak, for what am I that
 
 A MERRY CHRISTMAS. 243 
 
 I can dare reckon myself worthy of such 
 as you ? But that man, Lord Cunning- 
 hame, you cannot care for, Mrs. Vilhers, 
 and you dare not look me in the face and 
 tell the lie !" 
 
 " No," returns Ida wearily, " I do not 
 ' care ' for him, as you call it, at least not 
 much ; but I shall be very happy." 
 
 '^ Do you think you will ? Do you think 
 that you can sell your life, in all its youth 
 and beauty, health and strength, to a 
 bondage to which gold alone gives bright- 
 ness \ Did I believe you to be such a 
 woman as that, I could but say, ^ Thank 
 God she is nought to me !' But I cannot, 
 will not believe it. Are you trying me, 
 Ida? Won't you even yet believe that 
 you have been my first and only love, such 
 as never man had ? Dear one_, ever since 
 
 16—2
 
 244 KINGSDENE. 
 
 I first saw you, all other women on earth 
 have seemed to me but shadows that only 
 come and go, and since I have known you, 
 no other thought has ever filled my heart 
 and mind but my thought of you, my dar- 
 ling, my own ! Ida, Ida, you shall be 
 mine ! What right has any one on God's 
 earth to come between us now T , 
 
 A half-doubting look crosses Mrs. Vil- 
 
 liers' face. Was it really true, all this he 
 
 said, or were they only the wild words of a 
 
 man in the first flush of disappointment ? 
 
 If she did but know whether she had heart 
 
 enough to be happy with Ini'm, and let the 
 
 riches go for which she felt she was selling 
 
 her woman's heart and soul ! Would it be 
 
 all in vain % Would they really prove only 
 
 Dead Sea apples in the bitter end ? And 
 
 Ida's face looks sad and grave, as her good
 
 A MERRY CHRISTMAS. 245 
 
 angel makes one more last effort to save 
 her soul alive ! 
 
 But the weight of the Cunninghame 
 diamonds weighs down the scale heavier 
 and heavier; so heavily, that neither a 
 woman's bartered love nor a man's lost 
 faith can for one instant hold their own 
 against those glittering millstones ; and 
 when Ida Yilliers lifts up her eyes and 
 speaks, the die is cast for good • and 
 all. 
 
 '' It is no use your saying any more, Sir 
 Gordon, for nothing can alter my determi- 
 nation now. It is best so, far best. Please 
 go, for it is no use to prolong a conversa- 
 tion which only gives unhappiness to us 
 both." 
 
 ** Unhappiness/ Is that the soft-sound- 
 ing name you give to the torture which
 
 246 KINGSDENE, 
 
 turns a man's heart into that of a fiend ? 
 Will there never be any punishment on 
 earth for those who play with the hearts 
 and souls of others, until they have won 
 from them all that makes life worth 
 having, and then say, ' Go, forget ! I have 
 had enough ' ? j And yet even now I can- 
 not wish to see you punished, my own, my 
 darling ! No ; to the last I will only say 
 ^Amen' to any sentence you may put 
 upon me ; and if mine has been the sin in 
 loving you too much, mine, too, at least 
 will be the punishment. Good-bye, Ida ! 
 Give me one kind hand-clasp before I go 1" 
 And the most loyal hand and heart that 
 ever woman won, was laid at her feet that 
 winter's day. 
 
 " Good-bye, Sir Gordon, and indeed I 
 am sorry, more than you think, perhaps,"
 
 A MERRY CHRISTMAS. 247 
 
 falters Mrs. Villiers, with a miserable sense 
 of having chosen the shadow for the sub- 
 stance, now that it is too late. And as 
 Gordon Leslie turns and goes straight to 
 the door wdthout one backward look, her 
 ^yes follow his tall, fair-haired figure wist- 
 fully ; and when the door closes behind 
 him, Ida Villiers buries her face in her 
 hands, and for the first time in her life 
 weeps bitter, heartfelt, blinding tears, ^t 
 the thought of the gallant, kindly face, 
 with its frank, true smile, the life and 
 light of which she has cut off from herself 
 for evermore.
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 A HAPPY NEW YEAR. 
 
 "'What is life? what is death? what the false ? what 
 
 the true 1 
 And what is the harm that one woman can do?' 
 Vain ! all vain ! . . . . For when, laughing, the wine 
 
 I would quaff, 
 I remember'd too well all it cost me to laugh. 
 Through the revel it was but the old song I heard. 
 Through the crowd the old footsteps behind me they 
 
 stirr'd, ' 
 
 In the night wind, the starlight, the murmurs of even, 
 In the ardours of earth, and the languors of heaven, 
 I could trace nothing more, nothing more through the 
 
 spheres. 
 But the sound of old sobs, and the tracks of old 
 
 tears !" 
 
 Lucile.
 
 1^1 HE door of Mrs. Villiers' house 
 shut to noisily and angrily, as if 
 to speed the parting guest, whilst 
 Sir Gordon Leslie walked slowly down 
 
 C Street, like one in a dream. Was 
 
 this the end to all his hopes and antici- 
 pations ? Had those visions of happiness 
 been but a mirage after all ? Only 
 a Fata Morgana luring him on to ruin, 
 body and soul ! He felt almost too 
 bitterly hurt and angry to realise at first 
 the heaviness of the blow which had fallen
 
 252 KINGSDENE. 
 
 upon him, and a stunned feeling, such as 
 he could only remember as yet to have felt 
 after some severe physical shock, seemed 
 numbing his faculties, and turning every 
 thought in his brain to dire confusion. 
 
 He wandered on aiid on, from street to 
 street, with the aimless and restless step of 
 one who tries to tire out thought itself,, 
 though no one looking at his fair, frank 
 face could have guessed at the misery hid 
 under that quiet, calm exterior. Like all 
 men of deep feeling and of sensitive nature, 
 there was nothing Gordon Leslie hated so> 
 much as the wearing of a heart upon a 
 sleeve, and to every passing acquaintance 
 his recognition was as gay and his smile as 
 cheery as of old ; but after a while, when 
 by chance a semi-intoxicated cabman wished 
 him ' A Merry Christmas,' a look of such
 
 A HAPPY NEW YEAR. 253 
 
 savage wrath blazed up in his eyes, as made 
 even the not very discerning Jehu observe to 
 his companion, sotto voce : " That swell ain't 
 'ad his fill o' good cheer to-day, poor chap !" 
 
 The memory of the next few days which 
 followed so slowly after each other, seemed 
 for months nothing but a long evil dream 
 to the man who had left all hope behind, 
 ^s surely as did they who entered the 
 portals of Dante's " Inferno." Each me- 
 mory of bygone days, each ray of olden 
 brightness — the sound of a well-known bar 
 of music, or a woman's voice — ^had power 
 to turn the very light of the sun into 
 sudden darkness for him. 
 
 Though " only a year ago " is the 
 requiem sung over many a life's story, and 
 though to ** remember" seems the one 
 thing harder even than to " forget," here
 
 254 KINGSDENE. 
 
 and there in the world are hearts and 
 minds to whom the former is a hopeless 
 reality, the latter a longed-for impossi- 
 bility. Time may do wonders, years may 
 deaden pain, but deep down in the truest 
 hearts of all will lie the memory of those 
 days of yore, Avhen faith and truth were 
 still bright living powers in our hearts and 
 minds, not dim vague shadows only ; and 
 when the love now lying so peaceful and 
 dead in its quiet grave, was the glorious 
 reality of life's most radiant hours. 
 
 Where is now the pure faith, the un- 
 selfish devotion, so freely and so lovingly 
 offered at the shrine of our sweet first love % 
 Now we calculate on ^' gold " to be given 
 for our '^ gold ;" then we were content to 
 take silver only in exchange for our richest, 
 purest, golden treasure.
 
 A HAPPY NEW YEAR. 255: 
 
 The first time one is '' hard hit," one is- 
 ready and wiUing to do anything and 
 everything that entails self-sacrifice ; some- 
 how, then, the sun which is pouring down 
 on our devoted heads scarce seems hot,, 
 because another likes to bask in it, and 
 hours of waiting in a bitter east wind are 
 well rewarded by a brief word or passing 
 glance ; but later on one can think more- 
 calmly, and spare others as well as one's self 
 much misery, by seeing in time that the 
 sun can scorch and the wind bite hard r 
 '* Oh, le bon vieux temps quand j'etais si 
 malheureux !" 
 
 The days dragged wearily on for Gordon 
 Leslie, though in all outward seeming life 
 seemed not one whit altered to him. The 
 same faces met him at the covert-side, the 
 same smiles welcomed him as of old, but
 
 256 KINGSDENE. 
 
 the charm of life had orone never more to 
 return. Sleepless hours, full of bitter 
 thoughts and maddening memories, had 
 not as yet shaken at least his nerve ; and 
 when hounds were running hard over the 
 strong vale country, no man could " hold 
 his own,'' or cut out the work for others, 
 more resolutely and quietly than did Sir 
 Oordon Leslie. 
 
 More than one friend made the comment 
 that '^ Leslie looked as if he'd had a facer," 
 and more than one woman wondered why 
 the smile whose power she had so often 
 gauged ere this, seemed powerless to kindle 
 an answering one in the grey eyes that now 
 never lost their dreamy, absent look ; but 
 not one amongst the many guessed the 
 havoc which that ^' Merry Christmas " had 
 wrought in the kindest, most loyal heart
 
 A HAPPY NEW YEAR. 257 
 
 that ever man possessed. Verily, a saying 
 only too often justified is this : ^^ How to 
 the word ^ passion ' the old Latin meaning 
 clings — how truly it is a ^ suffering ' ! " 
 
 There was but one human being in whose 
 society Gordon Leslie could feel almost 
 happy, and that was Stella Ray. The 
 girl's gay nature and strong decision of 
 character roused him sometimes in spite 
 of himself, and brought him momentaipy 
 forgetfulness, whilst her quiet, unobtrusive 
 sympathy, felt, but never spoken, soothed 
 him and gave him a feeling of rest which 
 he could gain nowhere else. Slowly he 
 learnt to read the true nature of her feel- 
 ings for himself, his own pain making him 
 quick to perceive and understand that of 
 others, and a deep gratitude sprang up in 
 his heart, such as can be felt by those alone 
 
 VOL. I. 17
 
 258 k'INGSDENE. 
 
 who having been sorely wounded, receive 
 an unexpected kindness which somewhat 
 softens the bitterness of a disappointed 
 hfe. 
 
 More than once did the idea of making 
 Stella Bay his wife cross his mind, but the 
 knowledge of how little he had to offer her 
 — not even love itself — stood as an invin- 
 cible barrier in his way. 
 
 People do not nowadays become melo- 
 dramatic over their sorrows, and on the 
 day that Ida Villiers was married, Sir 
 Gordon Leslie neither tore his hair, nor 
 raved, nor swooned, but simply went out 
 hunting. Not even his horses found out 
 that there was anything amiss with the 
 master they carried that day, for he was 
 not a man to wreak his vengeance and 
 disappointment on anything of the brute
 
 A HAPPY NEW YEAR. 259- 
 
 creation. True, in discussing that day's 
 sport over their claret at night, his friends 
 casually observed that '^ Leslie went to 
 hounds as if he kept a dozen spare necks 
 in a drawer at home, judging by the 
 amount of timber he rode a raw four-year- 
 old at." And though the same intelligent 
 observers give it as their opinion, ^^ that a 
 man can ride like that if he's never yet had 
 a bad fall," on no one's mind did it dawn 
 that there can be mental falls which madden 
 for the minute and injure for ever after, 
 far worse and more fatal in their effects 
 than are any bodily ones. ^^ People are 
 not quite the same as they were before, 
 after it ; their few years of ^ Sturm und 
 Drang ' are the heating in the furnace 
 which qualifies the metal ; their effect, 
 however invisible, is never quite lost." 
 
 17—2
 
 26o KINGSDENE. 
 
 By the time that the sunny month of 
 May came round, with its buds and flowers 
 and its promises of summer. Sir Gordon 
 Leshe had more or less made up his mind 
 to forget the past, and hve only for the 
 present and future, and though the sense 
 of pain which made itself felt in his heart 
 at the mere mention of Ida Cunnino^hame's 
 name, showed how hard a death his first 
 love was dying, still to all intents and 
 purposes he went about the world as gay 
 and free from care as of old. 
 
 The London season was a late one this 
 year, and even by the middle of May the 
 scanty crowd in the Park and the streets 
 gave one more the idea of early spring 
 than summer, and the day of Stella Ray's 
 presentation at her first Drawing-room was 
 ushered in by showers of blinding sleet and
 
 A HAPPY NEW YEAR. 261 
 
 a bitter east wind. Sir Gordon Leslie 
 
 wended his way towards E n Square, 
 
 to call at Mrs. Brabazon's, just as most of 
 the carriages containing fair freights, clad 
 in satin, velvet, and lace, and surmounted 
 by the orthodox tulle and feathers, were 
 returning from Buckingham Palace ; and 
 he was so occupied in trying to find a dry 
 spot at which to cross to the opposite side 
 of the street, that a carriage passing him 
 by closer than was pleasant on so muddy 
 a day, decorated his irreproachable toilette 
 with two or three large splashes. 
 
 He gave a look of annoyance at its dis- 
 appearing wheels, but as neither the high- 
 stepping black horses nor the gorgeous 
 white and scarlet liveries of that vehicle 
 were known to him by sight, he vouch- 
 safed it no further attention.
 
 262 KINGSDENE. ^ 
 
 Apparently, however, the occupant of 
 the carriage in question knew Sir Gordon 
 himself, for over her calm still face passed 
 a look of surprise and almost of sorrow, 
 and her proudly-carried head bent low, as 
 if under some greater weight than that of 
 the magnificent diamonds encircling it. 
 
 But he himself went on his way, un- 
 knowing and unconcerned, and was soon 
 ushered into the big drawing-room at Mrs. 
 Brabazon's house, where he found Stella 
 Bay seated in state, and clad in plumes 
 and train, having just been safely deposited 
 at her aunt's door by the W shire mag- 
 nate, who had done the young heiress the 
 honour of presenting her to her Sove- 
 reign. 
 
 Mrs. Brabazon and Lady Bland were 
 the only other inmates of the room, and
 
 tA HAPPY NEW YEAR. 263 
 
 the latter struggled vainly to elicit from 
 her cousin some account of the most striking 
 toilettes which might that day have come 
 under her observation. 
 
 '^ I don't believe any of the young girls 
 can have looked better than yourself, my 
 dear," said Mrs. Brabazon heartily. " Now 
 doesn't she look nice, Gordon V 
 
 Stella laughed out gaily, but blushed 
 nevertheless as she caught Sir Gordon's 
 critical and approving glance of admira- 
 tion. 
 
 With her great dark eyes and red-bronze 
 hair, shining out from clouds of soft white 
 tulle and curling feathers, Stella Ray's face 
 was one not easily to be overlooked ; and 
 though it was too dark and pale to look 
 its best when clad in so trying a costume 
 as *^ all white " by daylight, the glowing
 
 264 KINGSDENE. 
 
 red lips lent a touch of colour, and the 
 ever-changing expression a charm, which 
 themselves alone were quite sufficient to 
 excuse the length of gaze with which her 
 criticiser favoured her. 
 
 ^* You wouldn't have thought much of 
 me had you seen some of the other faces 
 there, auntie, I can tell you," she said 
 laughingly. 
 
 " Who was the best-dressed woman on 
 the whole'?" inquired Lady Bland anxi- 
 ously. 
 
 " Well, I can hardly say, Amelia. There 
 was a black and yellow woman quite 
 lovely, and then there was a pale blue 
 woman I liked nearly as well. Oh yes, 
 and a woman in black whom I liked almost 
 best of all, I think." 
 
 *' Can't you tell me more particulars
 
 A HAPPY NEW YEAR, 265 
 
 about their dresses than that 1" asked 
 Lady Bland discontentedly. 
 
 " 111 try and remember them by this 
 evening, really, Amelia ; but it can't amuse 
 Gordon to listen to a talk of ^ chiffons/ so 
 let's defer it until then. I saw the most 
 beautiful woman that I ever came across 
 in my life to-day," added Stella, turning 
 to Sir Gordon Leslie, ^^and that will 
 interest you much more, won't it ?" 
 
 " Of course," laughed he in answer. 
 
 " It was Lord Ganninghame's wife, who, 
 as you know, was once Ida Stocker, the 
 great actress and singer ; and, oh ! you 
 can't think how perfectly lovely she is ! 
 As long as I live I shall never forget the 
 impression she made upon me, as she swept' 
 past with her beautiful proud face, and her 
 blaze of diamonds, which it fairly dazzled
 
 266 KINGSDENE, 
 
 one's eyes to look at. And yet it wasn't a 
 happy face qiiite^ but somehow one forgot 
 that in looking at her grand beauty and 
 gorgeous diamonds." 
 
 The deep and exhaustive sigh which 
 Mrs. Brabazon at this juncture thought 
 it incumbent upon her to give, in memory 
 of her niece's obstinate rejection of this 
 same glittering coronet, attracted that 
 young lady's mischievous attention en- 
 tirely, and therefore the sudden start 
 which Sir Gordon gave at the sound of 
 his old love's name so carelessly spoken, 
 passed unnoticed. 
 
 '* Bear up, auntie," said Stella laugh- 
 ingly. "By the look of her ladyship's 
 face she hasn't found the Cunninghame 
 diamonds of sufficient value to outweigh 
 the drawback of living perpetually in her
 
 A HAPPY NEW YEAR, 267 
 
 husband's society. No, the more I looked 
 at her face^ the less I envied her. I 
 cannot help thinking that I have seen 
 her before somewhere, but I suppose 
 not." 
 
 " Perhaps you've seen some photograph 
 of her as an actress/' observed Lady Bland 
 spitefully. *' Those sort of people always 
 advertise themselves liberally." 
 
 Fortunately the fair Amelia did not 
 catch the glance of indignant contempt 
 which Sir Gordon's grey eyes flashed sud- 
 denly at her, but he only remarked calmly : 
 " Perhaps ^ those sort of people ' are more 
 worthy of being objects of admiration than 
 many of our other acquaintances." 
 
 " There's no accounting for tastes !" 
 answered Lady Bland, shrugging her 
 shoulders contemptuously, as she followed
 
 268 KINGSDENE. 
 
 Mrs. Brabazon out of the room ; ^' but it is 
 quite beyond me to fathom why so singu- 
 larly refined a man as Lord Cunninghame 
 should have selected an ex-actress for his 
 wife !" 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS, GUILDFORD, SURREY. 
 
 S. & H. 
 
 \ 
 
 ^^1 
 
 ./^^-
 
 "'"»="o' I T ur iLLinuis-UHBANA 
 
 3 0112 045833966 
 
 
 
 ^"^ r, ,U '^ 
 
 r\A^■«A/^■^x'■^y^™^^^y^^pv^«^w^ 
 
 m^8i«ssa^i 
 
 8^^#y# 
 
 
 \^^B,B,mM 
 
 mm 
 
 MAA'^^'^^^'^ 
 
 AoO'^A,^ 
 
 
 ^r\^A^A/ 
 
 '/^/^.<r^''' 
 
 ^OvA,^/^A 
 
 
 A ^ A .^ 7< 
 
 A^A'^?^^;^'