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October 1894.
Tauchnitz Edition.
Latest Volumes:
(Continued from cover of vol. 1.)
Marcella.
The New Novel by Mrs. Humphry Ward.
3 vols.
A Yellow Aster.
A New Novel by Iota.
I vol.
A Gray Eye or So.
By F. Frankfort Moore,
Author of “I forbid the Banns.”
2 vols.
In Varying Moods.
New Stories.
By Beatrice Harraden,
Author of “Ships that Pass in the Night.”
I vol.
The Rubicon.
A New Novel by E. F. Benson,
Author of "Dodo."
I vol.
Katharine Lauderdale.
A New Novel.
By F. Marion Crawford.
2 vols.
(Continued on page 3 of cover.)


COLLECTION
OF
BRITISH AUTHORS
TAUCHNITZ EDITION.
VOL. 3014.
A CHOICE OF EVILS. BY MRS. ALEXANDER.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.


vt-00


A CHOICE OF EVILS.
A NOVEL.
BY
MRS. ALEXANDER,
AUTHOR OF “A WARD IN CHANCERY,” “A WOMAN'S HEART,”
ETC. ETC.
COPYRIGHT EDITION.
IN TWO
VOLUMES.-VOL. II.
LEIPZIG
BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ
1894.


ABR
5-30 ठिउप
उठो
A. 131830


CONTENTS
OF V O L U ME I I.
CHAPTER I.
A Crisis
Page
7
CHAPTER II.
On the Rack .
27
CHAPTER III.
A Decree Nisi
.
45
CHAPTER IV.
An Interlude.
58
CHAPTER V.
Breaking away
73
CHAPTER VI.
A fresh Start.
94
CHAPTER VII.
Welcome back
109


6
CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.
CHAPTER VIII.
After the Storm .
Page
127
.
CHAPTER IX.
Startling News
146
CHAPTER X.
Retrospective
169
CHAPTER XI.
A gallant Rover
189
CHAPTER XII.
A last Meeting
205
CHAPTER XIII.
Parting for ever .
223
CHAPTER XIV.
66
“It cannot be"
248
CHAPTER XV.
Friendship
268


A CHOICE OF EVILS.
CHAPTER I.
A CRISIS.
THE fourth season since Palliser's marriage had
entered on its second stage, and “all the world” had
settled to the struggle of life, social, political, legal,
literary, with renewed vigour after the Easter holidays.
Janet had found great refreshment in hers, spent
with her father in his comfortable seaside abode, and
she returned to take up her part in the drama of
London Society, with a slight increase of interest, which
she welcomed and cherished as the beginning of a fresh
phase of existence.
The few years which have elapsed since last we
saw her, were, in point of experience and thorough
awakening, equal to a lifetime. She sometimes smiled
to herself when she read or heard people speak of
"fiery trials” or “heartburnings," and thought that icy


8
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
repression and slow heart-congealing could be quite
torturing enough. During these years her husband had
drifted further and further from her, and she had
striven desperately to hold him.
First, it was unspeakably bitter to lose his tender-
ness, then it was almost worse to admit that love in
him was represented by a curious mixture composed of
taste, gratified vanity, and acquired refinement, dashed
with quick, evanescent passion, and that she was striving
to hold what did not exist. His relapses into a caressing
mood grew fewer and further apart, till, on one occasion
when Janet, who was not easily turned from her earnest
desire to be conciliating, thinking he looked pale and
worn, came close to him, resting her hand on his
shoulder, and offered him a kiss, asking, “Are you very
tired, Randal?” he put her aside, gently, it is true (he
was never rough), but the rebuff was none the less
potent. It was the last kiss she ever offered him, and
no doubt the growing coldness, of which she was almost
unconscious, helped to estrange him.
He had ceased to veil his bitter disappointment at
not having a son, especially as the St. Oswald family
had been increased by a second. This was a constant
source of bitter humiliation to Janet. She felt herself
an impostor; she had not fulfilled the end of her exist-
ence as Mrs. Palliser, of Mervyn Hall, and this conviction
seemed to take from her all sense of right and security,


A CRISIS.
9
to paralyse her authority, to make her reluctant to lay
out her husband's money, or to use her own handsome
dress allowance. As her feelings grew refrigerated, and
common sense asserted itself, she gathered strength to
understand her own position, and force enough to do
what was right, whether her righteousness was ap-
preciated or not.
To make her husband's house agreeable to his
friends, to give him any help she could in social and
political matters, to look as well as she could, these
were duties which she carefully performed. The help
she could give, however, was but small. Palliser had a
secretary, and evidently disdained assistance from her
hands.
Though at first she seemed to recover quickly from
the attack of fever before described, the improvement
was checked afterwards, and she was for some time in
rather delicate health, a circumstance which Palliser
seemed to resent. Indeed, she was never afterwards so
brilliant in expression or complexion, but her face grew
more interesting, her eyes more serious, her manner
steadier, her conversation more thoughtful, while her
popularity increased, and she was rapidly acquiring a
certain degree of social importance among a rather
select set, whose names are never blazoned in the
columns of those curious products of modern journalism,
the weekly gossip papers.


IO
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
Men liked her heartily, and talked confidentially to
her, though they never dreamed of flirting with her,
and her dinners were becoming recognised as more
than ordinarily well-ordered and agreeable. She was
now rarely alone with Palliser, and when she was, they
were perfectly polite, though she felt that he liked her
less and less, and the sense of being alone in the
world—save for her father-grew upon her.
She was
more sympathetic to her brother than she used to be,
though his wife somewhat repelled her; but she steadily
insisted on inviting them to dinner twice in each season,
and left a small packet of Palliser's cards upon Tom in
the course of it.
To recommence, Janet was thankful to find she
looked forward to the rest of the season, its tasks and
duties, with more of interest than she had felt for a
long time.
Palliser was to arrive the following day. He had
run over to Paris with Darrell, to see Sir Frederic Saville
and his sister, who had made that pleasant capital their
headquarters, also to pick up some political information,
as he, Palliser, was growing more occupied with
Parliamentary matters day by day.
Dressmakers, and her visiting list, writing out a plan
of dinners and entertainments to fit in with their own
invitations, before consulting Palliser on the subject,


A CRISIS.
II
gave his wife abundant occupation for the first few
days of her return.
“Can you give me a few minutes to read over this
list of dinners and evenings, and say what alterations
you wish?”
" he
Palliser took the paper and pointed out a few
changes.
“I wish you would let me see our list of engage-
ments,” he added.
"I must have left it upstairs,” said Janet, looking
into a small velvet bag she carried.
“Never mind, I shall not go out for an hour,"
returned; "you will find me in the study."
Having her morning planned out, Janet went at
once in search of the missing list, and returned to her
husband, who was already writing at his knee-hole table.
She laid the paper before him, and standing beside his
chair, began to explain how the one list would fit in
with the other.
It was very rarely that Janet entered the study,
knowing she was not wanted there. Indeed, from the
time they had occupied the house in E-- Square,
Palliser's private sitting-room had been more or less for-
bidden ground to her.
They had nearly finished their discussion, when the
butler entered with a note. “Lady waits an answer,”
he said.


I 2
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
“Lady!” repeated Palliser with a good deal of sur-
prise, “what lady?” and he took the note.
“Well, sir, she looks rather like a foreigner, though
she speaks English.”
Palliser ran his ey over the lines written within the
note. They ran thus:
“Will Mr. Palliser accord the writer a few moments
of his valuable time—she has a private communication
of some political importance to make?”
The handwriting was strong and masculine, and
quite strange to Palliser.
“I suppose I must see her, though I daresay it is
a cock and a bull story,” he said, throwing the note
on the table before him. "Show her in!”
“I shall retreat before the political secrets, as soon
as she has cleared the doorway,” said Janet smiling.
The next moment a tall, stately woman, handsomely
dressed in black-not in mourning-crossed the thresh-
old, advanced a step or two, and paused in silence,
till she heard the door close behind her. Then she
quietly raised and put back her veil, displaying the
beaux restes of what had been a beautiful face, with
fierce dark eyes, and a high colour which was suggest-
ive of high art.
Janet, much struck with her appearance, began to


A CRISIS.
13
move towards the door, when her steps were arrested
by a look of horror in Palliser's face. He rose to his
feet, exclaiming as he put out one hand upturned before
him-
“Isabel! my God! Isabel!”
“Yes, Isabel!” she returned with iron steadiness.
“Who is this woman?”
Palliser pulled himself together by a great effort,
and stepping forward, placed himself between the
stranger and his wife.
“Go, Janet!” he said, hoarsely, "leave me. I will
come to you presently! Leave me!”
“Are you safe?” she whispered, alarmed at the
woman's eyes.
“Go!” was all he could say—and she went.
She was greatly agitated. Palliser's look of horror
had stamped itself upon her mind-her imagination.
It was an unmistakable look of fear, and she knew
he had fully the average amount of pluck possessed by
English gentlemen -- fear and horror mingled, as one
would feel in the presence of something supernatural.
She sat down in her dressing-room, with an odd,
shuddering sensation. She shrank from staying there
alone, yet she would not call anyone to stay with her,
as she felt that Palliser would soon come, and there
must be no witness to their meeting. She felt in some
extraordinary manner, that this terrible woman must be


14
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
This was
his former wife, the unfortunate creature whose charred
remains had been buried some six or seven years ago!
It was absurd to believe that such a resurrection
could take place, yet she knew it was true.
Palliser's first wife, and she herself could be no wife;
but she did not think of herself, save in brief flashes.
What torture Randal was undergoing! What an awful
ordeal of exposure lay before him!—all the old scandal
to be raked over again, with an enormous addition.
How long the woman was keeping him! How did
that woman come there?
Janet was trembling all over-she could not keep
still. She rose and paced the room, pausing every now
and then to look at the clock on her mantelpiece. A
quarter of an hour, half an hour, an hour, an hour and
a quarter! She sat down in a corner of the sofa, and
hid her face in the pillow. Would he never come?
At last the handle of the door turned and Palliser
entered. His ghastly face thrilled her heart with com-
passion; she had started up at the sound of his approach,
and now went forward to him with outstretched hand.
He took and pressed it convulsively, then with a
cruel mocking smile, “It seems, Janet,” he said in a
harsh voice, “that you and I are to be the hero and
heroine of a 'penny dreadful' order of tragedy! That
infernal
woman,
do
you
know who she is?”


A CRISIS.
15
“I do," said Janet, growing calm at the sight of his
pale fury, “she was your wife.”
“Was!” he interrupted passionately. "Is my wife,
and has come to destroy you——to take from you the
position to which you are entitled, to bring you and
me to shame.”
“No, Randal! she cannot do that,” said Janet
steadily. “How-oh, how is it she is alive, Randal?
How can we sufficiently thank God that we have no
children?"
Palliser let her go and threw himself on the sofa
she had just quitted, exclaiming:
“I am the most unfortunate fellow that ever
breathed!” He pressed his hands on his brow. “Yes!
that is the only saving point in the whole miserable
tangle, and it will enable us to turn her flank!” He
stopped—then looking up at her as she stood white,
but composed, before him. “It is cruelly hard upon
you; another woman would be in hysterics; how for-
tunate it is that you are not as sensitive as I am!”
“How does she come here?” repeated Janet, not
heeding this comment.
“That I do not know. I recovered my senses as
soon as the first shock of seeing the dead come back
to stand before me was over, and felt that I must be
cautious in dealing with this devil. Her object of course
is to extort money.
Had I not recognised her myself,


16
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
I could never believe any testimony to her being alive.
I myself saw her remains! The face was greatly in-
jured, but the hands, the height, the shape (for the
figure was much less injured than the face), the hair
were hers!
We showed a number of photographs to
the
manager
of the hotel, and he picked out hers, as
the likeness of the Mrs. Palliser who had come to the
hotel the afternoon previous to the fire. There is some
infernal story behind all this. My God! to be dragged
through the mire again!”
He began to walk the room.
“It is a cruel ordeal,” said Janet. “But take courage,
Randal, you have been guilty of no wrongdoing, only of
imprudence, of youthful folly, and this terrible passage
may lead to real freedom.”
“It shall,” said Palliser, pausing in his troubled
walk.
“I did not tell her I was childless. I let her believe
she had a firmer grip of me than she has. I asked her
how she heard of the birth of my son. She laughed
and said, “Don't you think I read the English papers,
whether I am in Europe, Asia, or America, and there I
saw the birth of your son and heir at St. Oswald's,
where you brought me as an adored bride, where you
cruelly discarded me!' You see how the mistake oc-
curred?"
“I do."


A CRISIS.
17
my solicitor.
“She dwelt with fiendish malice on the disgrace
which would hang round both my sons; you see, though
she knew I had Mervyn, she never was there, and as-
sociated me more with St. Oswald's, where our break-up
occurred. I did not undeceive her, I let her imagine
that I meditated coming to terms with her. But we
parted with the clear understanding that all communi-
cations for the future must pass through the hands of
I am going to him now, and to-morrow I
must speak on the Southshire Branch Railway Bill! It
will be difficult to track her course since she vanished,
but money and perseverance can do much.”
“Then, Randal, I beseech you, try to steady your
nerves and do justice to yourself; this is but a temporary
trouble, bad as it is; there are long, quiet days at the
other side, in which you will have much honourable
work to do, and for some weeks at least, little or no-
thing will be known. You must look across the present
storm, and keep your hold on the confidence you are
winning from the public."
“I see, Janet, you have not lived with me for no-
thing. I little thought once that you could ever speak
in such a strain. Now I must go to Godfrey. He will
think I have lost my senses at first.”
“Stay, Randal!” said his wife, flushing up and then
growing pale, while she hesitated an instant.
sorry to obtrude myself upon you at such a time, but,
A Choice of Evils. II.
“I am
2


18
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
as in truth I am no longer your wife, what—what ought
I to do?”
“Ah, yes, to be sure. I forgot. I suppose you must
not stay here, we must be very guarded, for of course
when things are settled, as I trust and believe they will
be, and we come together again, it will not do to have
continued in the same house together. You had better
telegraph to your father, and go to him at once. It is
due to ourselves to behave irreproachably in the eyes of
the world, and you know, Janet, you can trust me!
Whatever occurs, my sense of honour will keep me un-
alterably your husband!”
“I have no doubt whatever of you, Randal, you are
an honourable man!" She paused, for she could not
quite command her voice. Was this the end of the
passionate love which had sought her so eagerly?—she
was to depend on his sense of honour. But this was no
time to show selfish resentment. “I shall telegraph at
once to my father, but, Randal, I should like to hear
the result of your interview with Godfrey. When are you
likely to return? I could take the six o'clock train to
Beachurst.”
“It will be a long one, I suspect, but I shall cer-
tainly return before six; you can be ready to start and
I will see you off.”
“Of course I may tell my father everything! Indeed,


20
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
7
un-
enough for the present. The future?—that must shape
itself.
With a curious composure that seemed to her like
the outer husk of her mind quite apart from the pain-
ful confusion which reigned within, Janet rang for her
maid, and gave directions for the packing of her clothes,
as she was going to Captain Rowley's for a visit of some
duration.
“I shall tell you more when we are there,” she added
very gravely.
“Thank you, ma'am,” said Raynes, with an
moved countenance, and immediately set about her
packing
What a strange day it was! The endless callers
were sent from the door. Mrs. Palliser was not at
home to anyone; fortunately she had no special day,
and not even Lady Darrell was admitted.
Meantime, Janet was desperately busy. She was
rapidly putting up all her letters, papers and memoranda,
the few photographs she valued, all the gifts made her
by her husband up to the end of the first year of their
married life, and other trifling presents from some of
his relatives. These packed, she ordered her well-filled
jewel case to be placed in his dressing-room.
Time went at once slowly yet swiftly-she strove in
vain to eat. It was half-past five when Palliser returned.
There was but little time to spare.


A CRISIS.
21
“I will tell you as we drive along," he said, and
they entered the brougham which was waiting.
Raynes with the luggage had already gone on.
“It will be a tremendous business,” said Palliser, as
they drove rapidly to Waterloo Station. “At first old
Godfrey would not believe me. He insisted that it
was a case of mistaken identity. I could hardly per-
suade him that I recognised her at once. However, he
has already put detectives on her track. The difficulty
will be to trace her from the time she left London,
where she had resided for some time, and disappeared
at Southampton. We are not sure that she is staying
at the address she gave. That can be ascertained at
once.”
“It seems so extraordinary that after disappearing
for so long a time, she should hunt you up.”
“It is all a matter of £ s. d.” returned Palliser. “It
will cost a large sum, but none of it shall go into her
pocket. I will keep you informed of all that takes
place, but I am more hopeful since I have seen God-
frey. I trust, my dear Janet, that you do not think I
am to blame in any way? Believe me, I was as certain
that woman was dead -"
“You need not assure me, Randal. I am quite con-
vinced that you are blameless—a victim, not a sinner,"
interrupted his wife kindly.


22
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
“To-morrow I shall write to your father. He will
probably be the right channel of communication.”
A few more words brought them to the station,
where they found Raynes and Palliser's valet, who had
taken the tickets and secured places.
“Let me know how you get down,” said Palliser,
stepping into the carriage after her, “and, Janet, I
think it right to say you have behaved remarkably well.”
“Have I? There is no time to say more now!
Good-bye, Randal, good-bye!” There was a quiver in
her voice which touched him.
“I trust all will come right sooner than we expect.
Good-bye, dear.”
He kissed her kindly and descended to the platform,
handing Raynes in with his accustomed good breeding.
The whistle sounded, he raised his hat, and in another
minute the station was left behind.
It was a clear, balmy, transparent night when Janet
and her faithful attendant reached the busy railway
station of Kingsport, where they found Captain Rowley
awaiting them.
The moment Janet looked at the kind, rugged old
face, she saw that her father was racked with anxiety.
“Dearest Dad," she whispered, as she walked down
the platform, holding his arm close to her side. “I am
quite well, and though I have a curious—a wonderful
story to tell you, it is nothing to be uneasy about.”


A CRISIS.
23
And now,
“Your husband?” said the Captain, in a tone full
of apprehension. “Where is he?"
"At present he is probably driving down to the
House. He came with me to the station, and will write
to you to-morrow."
"Then you parted friends?”
“Excellent friends, rest assured of that!
dear father, I shall not say another word on any
serious subject till the broad daylight.”
Janet's tone set the old man's heart at rest, and
this being the case, his spirits rose to concert pitch,
the usual result of having his daughter with him.
Janet was greatly exhausted after the various violent
emotions of the day, and as soon as she had tried to
eat some supper and talked a little of the last Parlia-
mentary gossip, she begged leave to retire to her room.
Weary though she was, she lay long awake. It was
a warm night, and she left her window open. The soft
silence was inexpressibly sweet after the ceaseless roar
of London, and the murmuring ripple of waves seemed
to woo her lovingly to rest. She reviewed her position
over and over again. It was a cruel one!
For more than four years she had lived as the wife
of a man, whose real wife was living, and now she had
no shadow of claim upon him, nor he on her!
few days, all London would be telling various versions
of the Palliser romance. The Society papers would hint
In a


24
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
at the probability of extraordinary scandals cropping up
in the course of the impending trial. The wits and
“diners-out” would make bon mots upon the strange
affair, and the "Latest Particulars” would be perpetually
appearing in the Southshire Courant and the Langford
Mercury. It was a distressing situation for a woman
not yet twenty-five. She had mixed in Society under a
false name.
She ought to be bowed down with shame
and humiliation, yet somehow, she did not feel like it!
She was blameless, and it could not touch her. She
had come back to her dear father, and the sorrow and
mortification, the degradation, the failure, the collapse
of her married life seemed to have fallen from her.
Why should she be afraid of social chatter? She had
married Randal Palliser before God and man, she had
lived openly, and approved by all, as his wife, and even
if the results of the present extraordinary revolution
prevented her return to him, there was nothing in her
life for which she need blush, nothing to cut her off
from the companionship of the respectable-only, if
matters so turned out that she could not return to her
place beside her husband, her lot would be to dwell in
the shadow of a great misfortune always, and none
could foretell what the eventualities of the law would
be. How was Randal to find evidence against this
dreadful woman? Poor Randal! she was genuinely sorry
for him. He was indeed the sport of fate! Proud and


A CRISIS.
25
sensitive as he was, a more cruel blow could not have
been dealt him.
Then, naturally, the indifference he had shown for
herself recurred to her. How steadily it had grown!
With what agony she had striven against it, and refused
to believe it, now she had no doubt-nor had she for
a considerable time past! At present, she was, in a
degree, accustomed to the loss of his love, and was
growing used to the fading away of her own; she would
almost rather have the racking pain of watching, hoping,
despairing, back again, than the numb coldness which
stilled her soul now. Oh, for the glorious days of light,
and warmth, and colour, when his footstep, the sound
of his voice, a sudden encounter in the grounds, could
quicken her heart-beats and send a delicious thrill
through her veins.
What a revelation it had been to talk to him, for
Palliser, in certain directions, was a capable and a
cultivated man. It was in these more serious conversa-
tions that she first perceived a change. He began to
find it a trouble to be in earnest with her. Well, it
was all gone, all past by, no one would ever love her
as Palliser had done for a short time, nor could she
believe that any other man would love more constantly.
That page of life, therefore, was irrevocably turned
Her husband had finished with love as far as
she was concerned, even the dry bones of the passion
over.


26
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
had been resolved into their elements—there was no-
thing to call back to life. Still, she was very, very
sorry for him, and hoped he might suffer as little as
possible. For herself, the sky looked grey, but a wide
horizon lay before her; life is inexhaustible; her brain
grew weary, and the murmuring wavelets outside whis-
pered softly of rest and freedom, till, to their caressing
music, she fell asleep.


28
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
perceived more than she thought! How wise and kind
his silence had been!
“There's one thing that used to grieve me, for which
I now offer heartfelt thanks to the good God-you have
no children to be displaced from their birthright,” he
remarked, after a pause.
“Thank God, indeed!” said Janet in a low tone,
"and thank God I have you to come to, dearest father!
Let us be as happy as we can while we are together.
I shall be your housekeeper; of course, I shall see no
one until this storm be overpast, except Mary—she will
be a great comfort to us both. Will you, dear, see her
to-day, and ask her to come to me? Tell her all. I
do not feel I could go through the terrible story again.”
When Captain Rowley had gone, Janet nerved her-
self to speak to Raynes, giving her an outline of the
truth, and telling her she must return to Town, as she
(Janet) had no need now for a lady's maid.
The sedate woman surprised her mistress by the
amount of feeling she displayed.
“That such a trouble should come on a lady like
you, ma'am!” she exclaimed. “Ah! Mr. Palliser will
know what he has lost now!--that he will—and I have
seen ladies that did not care half a farthing for their
husbands, petted, and spoiled, and made much of, to
no end !—and other ways, men a-trampling the sweetest
wives under their feet! Of all the contrary things in


32
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
Palliser then proceeded to speak of business.
He proposed an arrangement by which, pending
the legal proceedings about to be commenced, a cer-
tain income or allowance should be paid out of the
Mervyn estate to Janet.
“A very proper feeling on Palliser's part,” said
Captain Rowley (they were perusing the letter to-
gether).
“It is a provision I can never accept,” said Janet
in a low, firm voice.
“My dear, I should not say a word on the subject
if I could give you a home such as you have left.”
“Dearest father, do you think I have fallen so far
below my original self that fewer servants, less elabor-
ately-served dinners, the necessity for doing a little
more for myself, could make the smallest difference, if
-if-you do not mind taking the burden of my main-
tenance on yourself! I shall make but a small addition
for the next year at all events--and-_"
“Nonsense, my pet, I am but too happy to have
you!”
“Thank you, oh, thank you,” catching his hand
and pressing it tightly between her own. “I have to
be grateful to you for everything all my life, but espe-
cially for saving me from the humiliation of taking his
money."
Her lip quivered, and her voice broke.


ON THE RACK.
33
“I do not like to hear you speak like this, Janet,”
said her father gravely.
“Then you shall not hear it again,” she returned,
recovering herself. "Believe me, I will never fail in
my duty to my husband.”
“I do believe it, but do not fail in love either-
love works wonders.”
“I trust you will approve of all I do—but you
will write to Randal, and say we will not have his
money?"
“Very well—but--"
“Oh, I do not want you to write unkindly, dear.
I should like to write myself if I may, and I will show
you the letter. I feel a little puzzled what I may or
may not do under my very peculiar circumstances.”
“The chief thing I fancy is not to meet more than
you can help—just to keep Mrs. Grundy quiet, you
know; but as to writing, write by all means, it will
be a comfort to him, poor fellow!”
“Perhaps so," said Janet, with a fixed, far away
look in her eyes, a sad, soft expression stealing over
her face. “Perhaps so!-another difficulty, dear father,
has tormented me lately-what am I to call myself? I
have no right to the name of Palliser, and anything
else seems dreadful, such a badge of-disgrace. It
may appear to you but a small matter, yet I am greatly
troubled about it.”
A Choice of Evils. II.
3


34
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
>>
“No, I don't think it such a trifle!- you must
revert to your old name, but you need not hear it very
often."
Silence fell upon them a minute or two—then Cap-
tain Rowley rose and said;
“I shall write to Palliser at once," and retired to
his own little den.
Letter-writing was a somewhat slow process to the
old sailor, and before he had completed his task, Janet
came and laid her brief epistle beside him.
“I have just read your letter to my father, dear
Randal, and thank you for your kind thought of my
necessities--you are always ready to give! Do not
think me ungracious in refusing your offer, but during
this period of separation and uncertainty, I cannot ac-
cept money from you. I am sure you will understand
my feeling on the subject.
“As for some considerable time I shall live in the
strictest seclusion, I shall want very little and put my
father to very small expense. Let this question drop
then !—you will keep me or my father informed of all
that goes on, and try to look forward with hope--for
this can be but an episode in your life, though a most
painful one. With warmest sympathy in your present
trouble,
"I am always yours sorrowfully,
"JANET.”


36
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
bear to walk in any frequented part, so conscious was
she of covert looks and backward glances.
There were some woodland walks beyond the
Bungalow, where, with her father, she could take
exercise, also in the soft summer evenings, they could
stroll along the beach beyond the embankment, where
only an occasional couple of lovers crossed their path.
It gave her a curious unpleasant sense of imprison-
ment and espionage, this shunning of her fellow crea-
tures, yet the days were not altogether dreary.
She was at home, really and truly at home, the
supreme head of all things. She enjoyed regulating,
and even dusting with her own hands. Then she had
ample time for reading and music, and never before
had she so much letter writing; every creature who had
the least right to address her sent sympathising epistles,
especially Lady Saville, who promised to pay her a
visit as soon as she came to England.
Early in this time of seclusion, she was startled by
a most unexpected visitor.
It was a very sunny afternoon, and Janet was writ-
ing in the drawing-room, which was kept cool and dark
by the outside blinds of the verandah, when the re-
spectable woman, who, with a little girl, did the Cap-
tain's household service, entered with a card.
“Will you see the lady, 'm?”
Janet with surprise and pleasure read “Lady Dar-


ON THE RACK.
37
rell." She immediately went into the hall to receive
her, and found her sitting in one of the “Anchor Hotel”
flys, waiting for admittance.
“This is kind and good of you!” cried Janet. "Do
come in.
I believe you have come down here on pur-
pose to see me?"
“I have indeed, my dear!” resting her hand on
Janet's arm as she alighted, and then on reaching the
hall, pausing to kiss her gravely. “You are looking,
on the whole, better than I expected, though you are
thin and worn, and not the Mrs. Palliser I saw last
season!”
“Come in, dear Lady Darrell! I am so glad, oh!
so glad to see you.” Her voice showed how close the
tears were to her eyes.
“You have a charming cottage here,” said Lady
Darrell, as she entered the drawing-room, which was
sweet with flowers and musical with the gentle dash of
the waves beyond.
“Come out on the verandah, Lady Darrell, there is
a nice comfortable chair, and you can see across the
bay from the end.”
“Well, my dear child!” said Lady Darrell when she
had settled herself, and Janet had drawn a low basket
chair beside her. “What an awful business this has
been ?"


38
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
“It has indeed!” said Janet emphatically in a low
tone.
“It will make you all the rage, my dear, next season,
when everything has been put right. How are matters
going on? That dreadful woman has disappeared, I
believe?"
"I think they can put their hands on her when ne-
cessary. The difficulty is to prove what she has been
about since the hotel was burned; but I have not heard
anything for some days. Lord Darrell was kind enough
to write to me."
“Yes! he wanted to come here with me, but I told
him it would not do."
“Quite right, dear Lady Darrell! I do not wish to
see anyone except yourself, or Lady Saville. Now, you
must stop to dinner. My father will be so pleased, and
we have so much to say!”
“Thank you!
I shall be charmed to dine with
Captain Rowley and yourself. I am really en route to
Brittany, and shall go on to-morrow to Weymouth,” and
her ladyship then plunged into a disquisition on the
state of affairs. “Nothing has made such a sensation
for ages,” she exclaimed. “You know people had hardly
forgotten about the Palliser separation case, when the
Palliser divorce will rivet their attention! Your husband
-(oh! yes! everyone looks upon him as your husband)
-he is looking awfully ill, everyone feels for him, and


ON THE RACK.
39
for you, to be parted in this way, just when you might
be a comfort to each other, for you were considered a
pattern couple.”
Janet smiled sadly.
“You have a charming look-out here,” continued
Lady Darrell, "and such a pretty miniature house. But
it must be very quiet.”
“Of course it is, Lady Darrell."
“Suppose you come over with me for a month or
six weeks? It would be a complete change and do you
good, besides giving me pleasure!”
“Many thanks! you have always been most kind to
me, but I should be a sorry sort of guest! No, dear
Lady Darrell, I shall not quit my father's roof while
this dreadful business is hanging over me.
proper place, and I do not think my poor father would
be happy if I were out of his sight.”
“Very likely! I shall leave you my address across the
water, however, and if you should fancy a little change,
do not hesitate to tell me so, and come over to us."
“I am really grateful to you,” said Janet softly, “but
I must stay where I am! I must leave you for a mo-
ment to see if my father is in the house."
Lady Darrell looked keenly round while she was
away. That is, at the photographs and ornaments, a
few water-colour seascapes, and a large photograph of
Janet in her court dress.
This is my


40
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
“Hum," said her ladyship to herself, pausing before
a small portrait in oils of a naval officer. “The father,
I suppose—fine, bluff, sailor-like fellow-would have
shivered his timbers,' and 'mastheaded' his youngsters
forty years ago, in approved “Marryat' style; there's no
one left now to use such cabalistic language. But I
don't see Palliser anywhere! He ought to be on her
writing-table enwreathed in forget-me-nots! Here's the
writing-table, but no Palliser. She is a brave woman
and is bearing up wonderfully, but it doesn't strike me
she's breaking her heart about--no, not her husband!
It is really extremely awkward. Ah!” aloud as Janet
returned, “I am examining all your pretty things, Mrs.
Palliser. You have some pretty water-colours here."
“They are the work of an old shipmate of my
father's, long ago."
“Very nice, I am sure! Who is this neat-looking
young woman, who seems to be holding a foaming
waterfall in her arms?”
“That is a great friend and former playfellow, Mrs.
Bent. She is the daughter of our Vicar at Langford.
She is, as you see, a little overpowered by her baby's
robe.”
“The man in the surplice is her father, I presume?
But who is the young man in the cricketing suit, a
bright, honest-looking young fellow?”
“That is Maurice Winyard, the Vicar's eldest son.


ON THE RACK.
41
My father is out just now, Lady Darrell, but he is sure
to come in for tea. He will be very pleased to see you,
and grateful to you for coming to see me.”
“My dear, everyone will be glad to see you. We
shall all be giving entertainments in honour of your
second nuptials next spring."
“Don't.” (The word escaped Janet's lips in a tone
of entreaty). Lady Darrell continued. “Society will be
immensely excited, and grateful to you and Mr. Palliser
for the new sensation you are about to bestow upon it.
It is really a very curious situation' for you.
thing could revive the romance of early married days
it would be the sudden appearance of a barrier between
you like this. I suppose Mr. Palliser must not come
and see you? I believe people in your extraordinary
position are obliged to be very careful? I do not offend,
dear, in speaking so frankly? It is such a mere un-
pleasant passing episode, that I consider you still Mrs.
Palliser.”
If any-
“You do not offend or disturb me in the Lady
Darrell. No one has anything to be ashamed of in the
matter, except the wretched woman who deceived Mr.
Palliser."
"Exactly so. I knew you would be perfectly sen-
sible and rational about the business," exclaimed Lady
Darrell. “You are a very clear, cool-headed young


42
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
me.
person and your complete success in London is quite
assured. Already you are a most interesting topic of
conversation.”
“Which is small matter to me,” returned Janet with
a sigh.
“My dear, you are not going to sentimentalise on
the top of my panegyric on your sound-_"
“No, Lady Darrell, but,” smiling, “I feel dreadfully
tired sometimes—of everything.”
“Ah, that is nervous depression; the result of the
shock
you have had. I wish you would go abroad with
The change would do you a world of good. I
will talk to your father about it.”
“Pray, do not, Lady Darrell! It would be useless.
I shall not quit my father's roof until-4"
She paused.
“Yes," put in Lady Darrell, “I know; until you re-
turn to your husband's. Perhaps you are right. By
the way, my son desired his best remembrances to you.
He sorely wanted to pay you a visit, but I absolutely
forbade him. You must see no men, my dear, except
your father, your brother, and perhaps the husband of
à friend in his wife's presence.”
Here Captain Rowley walked into the room and
stopped short, greatly surprised to find his daughter
engaged with a very distinguished-looking stranger.
A word of introduction, however, explained every-


ON THE RACK.
43
thing, and the kind old man's face brightened at this
token of regard to his beloved daughter.
The afternoon was really a pleasant one to the
shrewd dowager, who was extremely active and took a
lively interest in the affairs of her few favourites. She
looked through the house, examined Captain Rowley's
small collection of curios, coins, and oddities, gathered
in many lands, and even visited the little fowl yard,
where she put the cook through an examination, and
recommended a special mixture of food.
Then she took a walk with Janet, after which she
quite enjoyed her dinner, and pronounced everything
excellent with a certain heartiness absolutely free from
condescension.
“By George!" exclaimed Captain Rowley, when he
had put his guest into the fly brought for her at ten
o'clock by the confidential man-servant who always
travelled with her. “That is a sort you don't meet
every day; a great lady, if you will, but a sharp business
woman into the bargain. Why, she was as keen about
that idea of getting a bit of the rough ground outside
the garden cheap and starting a poultry farm, to supply
the ships, as if she had earned her bread all her life.
But you are looking pale and fagged, my pet, eh?”
“Yes, dear, I am very tired. There was no news
from Randal to-day.”


44
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
“No; the poor fellow hadn't time to write, I daresay.
Faith, I admire his self-command and respect for you,
always sending the letters to me, which answers the
same purpose, eh?”
“Yes, it is admirable. Good-night, dearest father.”


46
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
refuge in any subject, any employment to escape from
thought.
It was a week after Lady Darrell's visit, and she
had gone to spend the day with Mrs. Bent and her
babies, as Captain Rowley had gone with an old mess-
mate for a cruise round the bay and to a little fishing
hamlet, which was beyond the southern headland, on
the open sea.
“There is something the matter, Mary,” she ex-
claimed, when they had exchanged greetings. Her
friend's eyes looked like tears, and there was something
restless in her manner.
“There is, indeed," she returned. Have you seen
to-day's paper?"
"No."
“There is an account of poor dear Maurice in to-
day's Times,” said Mrs. Bent, "only a telegram, though
a long one. It seems there has been a totally unex-
pected outbreak of a hill tribe, whose name I cannot
pronounce, somewhere on the eastern frontier, and a
small party of English troops was surrounded in the
village. The commander managed to telegraph to the
nearest station, where they had not many soldiers either.
There was a company or two of Maurice's regiment
there, and somehow he was sent in command. At all
events, they had a terribly difficult night march, and
he seems to have managed wonderfully well, and against


A DECREE NISI.
47
greatly superior numbers too!
He held the insurgents
at bay till a larger force came up, but he is severely
wounded. These telegrams are dreadful things—it will
be quite three weeks before we can possibly have any
particulars, meantime we just know the worst. Poor
dear mother, she will be terribly anxious! I will get
you the paper!” and she hurried away. How diligently
they pored over the brief details of the telegraphic
despatch. The sister, chiefly concerned about her
brother's probable sufferings and loneliness, away from
the loving care and companionship of his kith and kin
--the friend, almost as excited at the splendid chance
thus offered for an upward stride in his career.
“He ought to do well now, Mary!” she exclaimed,
“after proving he possesses such soldier-like qualities!
It seems to me quite incredible that Maurice, who was
so easy-going, so devoted to games and sport, so young
of his years—I am sure I feel ever so much older than
he is should command a number of men, and be
equal to such a tremendous affair! I feel quite proud
of him!”
“You never appreciated him, Janet,” said Mrs. Bent,
tearfully, “because he was perfectly straight and simple,
and thought so little of himself--you overlooked him!
We all knew how we could depend upon him, and trust
him. He always seemed to know what was best to do,
even when we were quite children, and you and he


48
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
used to quarrel; he always took care of us, and knew
his way all over the country. He was so gentle too, no
one seemed aware how strong and brave he was -he
never gave a thought to himself! No, Janet! you never
appreciated Maurice, and he was so fond of you.”
“You have painted a hero, Mary,” said Janet, with
a far-away look in her eyes. "Perhaps I did not do
him justice, I was so vain and selfish then. Oh! how
much I have learned since! Now, Mary dear, you must
not fancy your brother is going to die; you know how
healthy he is, and though not at home, he will have
excellent care. You must determine to believe he will
recover quickly, until you hear further.
When can we
have the full account?”
“This is the third--oh! not certainly for three weeks!
I must write to poor dear mother, Janet.”
“Yes, you must; and may I put in a few lines?”
“Oh yes, do! she will be delighted, she was always
so fond of you!”
“And always so good to me! While you write,
Mary, I will get the map and look out this place, Chan-
drapur-it must be a very mountainous district.”
From this startling news the friends could not get
away. It took them back to early days, to the tears,
the joys, the battles, the reconciliations of childhood
and budding youth, till their reminiscences reached the
epoch of the ever-to-be-remembered ball given by Pal-


A DECREE NISI.
49
liser in celebration of his return to reside in his an-
cestral hall.
Here Janet paused and contributed no more to the
stream of recollections. She kept silence while her
friend continued to speak, till her stillness attracted
Mrs. Bent's attention. She stopped, and looking some-
what earnestly at Janet, saw that she was white and that
her lips quivered.
“My dear,” she began, when Janet broke down, and
bursting into tears, covered her face with her hands,
sobbing for some minutes as if her heart would break.
“Do not, dear!” said Mrs. Bent, with some vague
idea of consoling her. “Of course it is dreadfully try-
ing now, but after all, it is only an exercise of patience.
A few months and all will be right again, you will be
in
your proper place by your husband's side. Just
think of his joy to welcome you back, and—-"
"Don't!” interrupted Janet, starting up with an im-
patient gesture, walking towards the door and returning,
“I am contemptibly weak! Talking of these sweet old
days was too much for me. You know I never dare
cry at home, for I feel my dear old Dad watches me
keenly, to see if I am fretting or not. Oh, Mary, of all
the blessings God has given us, the best, the most
merciful, is that we are kept from a knowledge of the
future!”
“Still, dear Janet, I think that your future promises
A Choice of Evils. II.
4


50
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
to be very bright, you must keep up your heart by
looking at it.”.
Janet made no reply, she slightly shook her head,
and pressing her handkerchief to her eyes, leant back
in her chair, and seemed by her stillness to have gained
self-possession.
The appearance of Mrs. Bent's little son with "a
nice clean face” and snowy pinafore, ready for dinner
with “Mamma" at luncheon time gave a pleasant turn
to the current of their thoughts. Janet was glad to
take him on her knee, and explain to him for the
twentieth time, the uses and history of the many charms
which hung at her watch-chain.
*
*
*
To take the readers through the dreary painful
details of a divorce case, is but to repeat a species of
literature with which they are but too familiar in the
daily papers.
A summary of the tracing and piecing together of
the curious story finally laid before the Divorce Court,
will suffice.
When Isabel Palliser, née Felinski, daughter of a
Polish father and an English mother, found that her
husband was determined to separate from her com-
pletely, when the history of her past became known to
him, and that the continuance of her comfortable in-
come depended on her conduct, she made up her mind


A DECREE NISI.
51
to prudence and fair-seeming. For a considerable time
she kept her resolution well, partly strengthened by the
knowledge that she was extracting a solid yearly sum
from Palliser's pocket.
In time, however, an irreproachable life grew in-
tolerably wearisome. The sameness, the dull routine,
the suppression-above all, the absence of men's society
became more than she could endure. She might have
held out a little longer, but for two events which,
though unconnected, acted in unison on her already
shaken constancy.
First, the quiet solemn English lady's maid whom
she engaged after she had parted with her husband,
had given notice to quit, as she was going to be mar-
ried. This woman had been looked upon as a guarantee
for respectability by her mistress, who stood slightly in
awe of her immaculate air, but retained her in her
service, as a sort of screen or buffer against the in-
quisitive researches of Palliser's agents, for she knew
she had been closely shadowed for a long time, though
the watch was now somewhat relaxed.
Feeling that the present was a chance for change
and freedom, she ventured to plan a little excursion
abroad with the only one of her former friends, with
whom she had kept up any correspondence.
Madame d’Almaine was a lady of large experience
and cosmopolitan tastes, American by birth, French by
4*


52
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
marriage and adoption. No longer young, her tastes
and pleasures had subsided from the wilder indulgences
of youth to the more sober and lasting joys of—not
exactly gluttony, but certainly of avarice; she had
always managed to preserve a certain outward pro-
priety and looked on herself as a person of the highest
respectability.
As Mrs. Palliser's misfortunes left her well provided
for, her friend always sympathised warmly with her,
and even came to pay her a consolatory visit in her
pretty little abode at Kensington. While Mrs. Palliser
cogitated this expedition, all her plans, intentions, reso-
lutions were shivered and reduced to their original
elements, by a sudden encounter with an old lover, of
whom she had once been passionately fond, Colonel
Desvoeux, a handsome well-bred American adventurer,
from the Southern states, who was fresh from a swin-
dling campaign in Paris, and flush of cash.
A thirst for the old reckless life of excitement and
passion overpowered her; for a moment she was inclined
to throw everything to the winds for his sake, but he
reminded her that she would have to live, when the fit
They therefore decided not to risk too
much, and concocted the following scheme, which
would secure them a few delicious weeks in each
other's society without running much risk.
Among Desveux’ numerous acquaintances was a
was over.


A DECREE NISI.
53
certain Mademoiselle Adèle, one of the dubious Parisians
who enliven our dull capital. She had a slight-per-
haps more than slight—likeness to Isabel, she was of
the same height, much the same graceful figure, abun-
dant black hair, and flashing dark eyes; she spoke
English fluently, though with a foreign accent.
This interesting young woman was engaged to per-
sonate her employer's friend, and was to start with her
for Southampton, the port chosen partly because Madame
d'Almaine was sojourning at Havre, partly because that
route was less used by persons likely to recognise the
fascinating Colonel. For a consideration Mademoiselle
agreed to change clothes and trinkets with her tem-
porary mistress and go to an hotel with that lady's
luggage, duly addressed “Mrs. Palliser.” Next morning
she was to take the steamer to Havre where, also for a
consideration, Madame d'Almaine would receive the
accommodating demoiselle.
At Southampton Desvoeux was to meet his fair
friends, and here they would part company with Adèle.
His intention was to make for Bordeaux, and cross
the frontier into Spain, and after a month or six
weeks with his charming companion, he was to make
his
way back to Yankeeland, while she was to join her
friend Madame d'Almaine in Paris and make her way
to London.
All went well. Mrs. Palliser bade her English maid


54
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
good-bye in the kindest manner and dismissed her with
a handsome present, saying another attendant awaited
her at Havre.
Then she visited her bank, spoke with her usual
politeness to the manager, mentioned her intended ex-
cursion and drew a moderate sum for the journey,
adding that she would write when she required more;
afterwards she saw her doctor, who took a great interest
in her and was quite pleased to find she was going to
have a change. So far all went well, but--
Adèle retired somewhat early for her, and continued
to peruse a thrilling romance after settling herself on
her pillows, by the light of a candle carelessly placed
on the bed beside her. She had enjoyed a hearty
supper, and a bottle of sparkling Moselle, so not even
the scorching love and fierce revenge of her novel could
keep her awake; the book dropped from her hand and
overturned the candle, slowly the sheets and curtains
ignited, thick smoke stifled her before the alarm was
given—when at last the door was burst open clouds of
smoke delayed the efforts to succour the victim, whose
blackened, half-consumed face and throat showed there
was no hope of recalling her to life.
When Desvoeux and his companion heard of the
catastrophe next morning they were aghast. Whatever
was the result, Isabel's career as Mrs. Palliser was at
an end.


A DECREE NISI.
55
Desvoeux managed to persuade the people at the
hotel to let him see the remains. “The face is greatly
disfigured,” he said when he returned to his accomplice.
“But there's a lot of hair left. The watch and chain
are preserved, and some of the rings are still on the
right hand. The inquest will be held this afternoon.
A hundred to one she will be buried as Mrs. Palliser.
As to tracing Adèle, I don't suppose there's a soul to
trouble about her. Her pals in London think she is
gone to America with me, and the sooner we are off the
better. The Hamburg steamer to New Orleans touches
here this evening, let's sail in her! You can never
account for yourself! I'll stick to you, we make a pile
together, or if we fail, clear out together. Let us have
a good time while we can. By-and-bye that fool Pal-
liser will marry, then when his son is a couple of years
old, he will stand a round sum, or a big annuity to
prevent his heir being publicly bastardised,” so the
Colonel and his companion vanished from the scene.
After some years of a not unhappy life, according
to their standard, the Colonel was shot in a street row,
out West. Isabel mourned him with sincere sorrow.
Then finding her fortunes at rather a low ebb, she
started for Europe to blackmail her unfortunate hus-
band.
Such was the extraordinary story painfully put to-
gether by the keen and experienced detective employed


56
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
in this difficult case. It took time, however, to collect
the many morsels which formed the curious mosaic, and
it was not until the early days of December that Pal-
liser's solicitors were ready to go into court.
The unscrupulous woman who had hoped to deal
so terrible a blow, was penniless, and too crushed by
her signal failure, to make any attempt at supporting
what she saw was a hopeless cause.
The case was
therefore undefended, and was consequently not "long
drawn out.” It nevertheless excited great attention.
The Society papers had numerous paragraphs on the
subject. The Morning Thrasher had a long leader,
distributing impartial blame all round. The Conservative
Banner attributed the scandalous circumstances to moral
decay, consequent on democratic principles, and every
print throughout capital and counties, availed them-
selves of such material for "copy” during the dull
season.
It was an excruciating time for Palliser. The “decree
nisi” which closed the hearing, and made him a free
man, hardly compensated for all he had endured. He
had abundant evidence of his popularity in the sym-
pathy and regard shown him by his friends and ac-
quaintances—but the trial left him exhausted, and he
gladly took the advice of his doctor, called in to
minister to a severe cold, and set out rather suddenly
for a trip to Egypt.


A DECREE NISI.
57
Of this move Janet was apprised by the following
letter:
“MY DEAR JANET,
“You will have heard the news last night!--I am
almost too dead beat to be glad, besides, it was a fore-
gone conclusion. I trust you have felt less harassed
than I have been. As this decree does not come in
force for six months, and I am warned to be extremely
cautious during that period, I think it wiser to deny
myself the pleasure of seeing you before I start for
Alexandria, where I propose spending two or three
months in the hope of recovering health and spirits.
Would you like to go abroad anywhere?—if so, do not
hesitate to draw upon me. I will let you know how I
get on in the land of the Pharaohs. Callender of
Grangemuir and Barnard, the water-colour man, are to
be my travelling companions as long as we like each
other, so I shall not be bored. I hope to return quite
myself, when we shall put all matters right, and I shall
make a fresh Parliamentary start. Pray write to me.
Godfrey will forward your letter, and I will let you
know my future address.
“Yours affectionately,
“RANDAL PALLISER.”


58
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
CHAPTER IV.
AN INTERLUDE.
This epistle arrived by the first post, and was sent
up to his daughter by Captain Rowley—under cover to
whom all her letters came, to avoid the awkwardness of
addressing her by her former appellation.
“Well, and what was the news from that husband
of yours?” asked the old man, when she appeared at
breakfast, looking white and worn, but quite composed.
“I suppose he doesn't know whether he is on his head
or his heels now that he is a free man.”
“He is frightfully weary and done up, poor fellow!
I will give you the letter after breakfast—my head
aches, and I am longing for a cup of tea.”
“Why didn't you have your breakfast sent up to
you, my pet?--you fancy you are made of iron! Here,
here's a leader on your case in the Daily News, very
well written, and complimentary to Palliser—'pon my
soul, I couldn't have done it better myself! No-I
don't mean that”-in answer to a quiet smile from
Janet—“I mean I couldn't have backed him up better
myself. This horrid business won't do him the slightest


60
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
woman-a
hold my tongue--but---by George! that's a d-d
cold-blooded, selfish letter to write to a
wife—that's gone through such a trial as you have, like
an angel-damn me!-- like a regular brick."
“You must allow for differences of nature and
temperament,” said Janet, with a slight sigh. “I am
not disappointed, he does not mean to be unkind; it is
quite true we must not be together—we have a most
malignant enemy who is ready to avail—_"
"But, good Lord!” interrupted her father, "fancy a
man going off to recruit his health and take care of
himself without coming to see how his wife-and such
a wife-has stood the strain of such a time of trouble
--and give her a parting kiss. Why, the fellow must
have water instead of blood in his veins.”
“There's no good discussing the matter, dear dad!
--there it is, we can change nothing."
“Well, Janet, I think it is your duty to show more
spirit and self-respect than to take this neglect tamely,
without remonstrance—I'd—I'd--” he stopped ab-
ruptly, annoyed with himself for having said so much.
“You think so?” said Janet, raising her eyes to him
with a sudden light in them, “perhaps you are right!
Dearest father, I will think carefully of the future which
lies before me, and speak to you when—when I have
something to suggest—but for the present, let us be
happy together—for no shadow ever comes between


AN INTERLUDE.
61
our hearts, and, oh—to be with you is indeed to be at
home and at rest! Do you remember that next Thurs-
day is the anniversary of my wedding-day?” Her voice
broke, and sinking at her father's feet, she leant her
head against the old man's heart, and wept quietly but
bitterly for some minutes. While he consigned himself
to very warm regions for a blethering old idiot-to have
let his tongue loose and suggested unhappy thoughts to
her.
“I am very weak too, dear,” she said at length,
mastering her emotion, “but we are not going to bemoan
ourselves any more. I shall write a kind letter to Randal
-I know what torture he has undergone since this
extraordinary resurrection of his first wife! I shall never
forget her—she must have been a beautiful woman
when younger.”
“Yes!-he had deuced good taste," returned Captain
Rowley grimly. “So you'll write to him to-day-well,
Janet, as you are going on a smooth tack, don't you
think you might hint that it would be more decent to
come down here, even for a couple of hours?"
Janet thought for a moment and then said quietly:
“No, I shall make no suggestion.”
"As you will, my dear, and about the trip abroad?
-it might do you good, and you have every right to
use his money."
“No, a thousand times no!” she cried with some


62
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
heat, “we will have a cosy winter together, you and I,
and forget that we were ever parted! I shall
go
and
write my letter, and remember you never say a word
against Mr. Palliser, dear dad, nor hint at my taking
any of his money! I feel thoroughly unmarried.”
“But you'll take it when you are remarried ?”
“Oh! when I am remarried, of course I will!” and
she left him, turning at the door to kiss her hand to
him, with a sweet frank smile.
Tlfe next week was fully occupied answering con-
gratulatory letters, which poured in from everyone who
had the slightest right to address her, and sundry of
the higher officials of Kingsport Dockyard and their
wives left their cards upon her, which put her in a
small difficulty, as she did not like to return them with
her own, either as Mrs. Palliser, to which name she had
no right, or as Mrs. Rowley. She therefore kept indoors,
and begged her kind friend Mrs. Bent, who knew most
of the society at Beachurst, to make her excuses and
explanations.
All through this time of trouble, Mr. and Mrs. Tom
Rowley had been most friendly and sympathetic. Indeed,
Mrs. Tom was prouder than ever of her grand relations,
as she considered the Pallisers, since they were the
objects of a “cause célèbre.” Just before Christmas she
wrote a most pressing invitation to her father-in-law and
Janet to pass the festive season with them in their grand


AN INTERLUDE.
63
brand new house. For Tom had practised and prospered
to his heart's content, and Janet was now aunt to two
immensely fat, red-headed boys—"regular Rowleys”—
their satisfied mother declared.
• To this proposition Janet could not bring herself to
agree; she strove in vain to persuade her father to
accept it, as she thought it might cheer and amuse him,
but he was inflexible, and while they were discussing
how to decline with sufficient conciliatory politeness, a
letter from Lady Saville arrived, informing Janet that
she was in London, having been unexpectedly called
over from Hyères, where she had been nursing Sir
Frederic, whose health had been much broken during
the last year.
“I am longing to see you,” she went on, “and if you
will have me, I will go down to the ‘Anchor' for two or
three days at Christmas, to have an outpouring of con-
fidences, so reserve all my news till we meet.
I hope
Randal is well! He hasn't honoured me with a letter
for ages. Pray give my love to your dear father.
“Always yours affectionately,
“G. SAVILLE.”
“I shall be so glad to see her!” cried Janet.
“Though her letters are few and far between, she never
forgets me. Don't you think, dear Dad, we might take


64
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
her in altogether? She might have my room—the little
one at the back would do for me, then.”
“I'd be right glad to put Lady Saville up!” he
interrupted, “but how the deuce should we manage
about her Ladyship's Lady? There's the rub! She'd
turn up her nose at her quarters till it would never
come down again. We couldn't put her in the kitchen
to dine with that old frump Mrs. Brown, and the girl,
she'd give them fits! No, no, my pet, let Lady Saville
put up at the Hotel, and dine every day with us.”
“Perhaps it would be better," returned Janet re-
flectively, and remembering the difference between
Mervyn Hall and the Bungalow.
This promised visit furnished a valid excuse for
declining Mrs. Tom's invitation, and cheered Captain
Rowley greatly. During the succeeding week he was
exceedingly busy with hammer and nails, and the
“high steps," putting up fresh curtains, rectifying locks,
and fastening list round the doors. Carpentry of all
kinds was a joy to him; once indeed, in the winter
time, he even made a cabinet.
This employment
possibly prevented his noticing the profound pre-
occupation of his daughter. She was constantly in
deep thought, and left all the talking to her father.
She wrote a good deal, though she did not post many
letters.
Randal wrote from time to time, but irregularly,


AN INTERLUDE.
65
often very briefly; sometimes Janet did not reply, but
rarely left more than one unanswered. Captain Rowley
was inclined to fidget when she did not write.
It was a wild, stormy evening, two days before
Christmas, when Lady Saville arrived. Captain Rowley
went to meet her at the station and conduct her to her
hotel, where he waited to escort her to his cottage
when she was ready.
Janet was surprised at her own agitation on meeting
her—no, she was no longer her sister-in-law—her friend,
and pained to find her looking wan and worn.
“This is nice!” exclaimed Lady Saville, embracing
her warmly. “You look so delightfully warm and com-
fortable here, but, dear Janet, you are a shadow of
yourself! You are so thin and white! I am sure if
Randal saw you he would be, or ought to be, flattered.
I am not very flourishing either-nursing does not agree
with me, and Sir Frederic is rather a difficult invalid,
poor fellow!”
“I am so very, very glad to see you,” was all Janet
could say, and Lady Saville, seeing that she could not
quite command her voice, went on talking:
“Your father is the best and youngest of us all! I
was so glad to see him at the station. How good of
him to come out in such weather! Ah! my dear Captain
Rowley, men of a–let us say--certain age monopolise
A Choice of Evils. II.
5


AN INTERLUDE.
67
“You will be enormously the fashion, my dear Janet,
I assure you," she went on, as she took her seat.
“Society will be quite obliged to you and Randal for a
new sensation, will it not, Captain Rowley!"
“There is no accounting for the whims of Society,"
he returned, with a quick, uneasy glance at his daughter.
“Tell me what news have you of your soldier son?”
“My dear Alec? Very good, I am happy to say.
He likes India very much; I am afraid he is in rather
an expensive regiment, but it can't be helped! He had
a very sharp attack of fever some months ago, and I
cannot tell you how good and kind Captain Winyard,
your old friend, was to him-his sister lives here,
doesn't she? I must go and see her and tell her to
thank her brother for me."
“She will be delighted to talk about Maurice.
Where is Alec's regiment quartered?” asked Janet.
“At Rawul Pindi, but they are to be moved soon,
which I regret; I think Captain Winyard is an excellent
friend for my boy. He is in a native corps, but has
been acting aide de camp to Sir Charles Hepburn for
some time—I fancy he will get on very well.”
The conversation flowed away from Janet and her
affairs to her immense relief. She enjoyed Lady Saville's
bright, sympathetic talk. After dinner, Captain Rowley
discreetly remained in the dining-room to enjoy his
habitual “forty winks," and Janet held some graver
5*


68
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
converse with her sister-in-law, who confided to her
something of her trials as sick nurse to her husband.
“He is terribly trying," she said, “but I am in-
finitely sorry for him. Now that he cannot ride, or
hunt, or go to jovial dinners with amusing, disreputable
people, he seems to have nothing left—not an interest
in the world! I suppose I should not be much better
myself in my way. It is really awful! Then he cannot
bear me out of his sight—he wants me to do every-
thing for him, though really his man is a capital nurse.”
“At least, it is gratifying to find you are so necessary
to him!”
“I cannot say it is,” returned Lady Saville, with a
little, low laugh. “You must not suppose that he is
lovingly dependent on me! He is as cross as a hundred
cats, and finds fault with everything I do, poor fellow!
I am so glad to be with you for a while, and yet I
shall be uneasy till I return to him. Oh, Janet, he was
so handsome, and gay, and charming, I look at him in
amazement sometimes. I really think he dislikes me
now and then. Isn't it curious? Then he doesn't care
a straw for the boys-by the way, Fred is doing very
well at Cambridge. He has more brains than Alec, but
he is less loveable. Darrell has been very nice to him,
and makes him an allowance that reminds me,
Darrell yesterday. He said he was coming down here
to see you and Captain Rowley. He is going to Devon-
I saw


AN INTERLUDE.
69
shire, I think. Darrell is growing quite steady. He
had rather a wild youth, I fancy."
Lady Saville did most of the talking until Captain
Rowley joined them. Then she suggested whist with
dummy, which greatly pleased her host. He loved the
game, though he was by no means an expert, and it
seemed to him ridiculously early when the carriage for
Lady Saville was announced.
When Lady Saville arrived next day, Janet was sur-
prised and pleased to find that Lord Darrell accom-
panied her.
She received him cordially enough. Yet a strange
sense of shy awkwardness made the colour rise in her
pale cheeks. How vividly his presence recalled Mervyn
in those first heavenly days of supreme content. He
had always been a good friend, and had shown more
of his heart and mind to her than any one else, save
perhaps his mother, had ever seen. He was shrewd
and sensible, with touches of finer feeling than people
suspected. He looked bigger, redder, more bony than
ever, but Janet noticed that he gazed gravely and
searchingly at her, as if he wished to see how she had
stood the strain of the last eight or nine months—she
observed, too, that he called her Mrs. Palliser as in
former times.
“I took the liberty of coming down here uninvited,”
he said, after they had exchanged greetings, "as I


70
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
thought you would like to hear the latest news of
Palliser. I have come straight from Cairo.”
“Indeed,” cried Lady Saville, "you did not tell me."
“Well, I only saw you for five minutes, and you had
a good deal to tell me!”
“Which means that I talked so much you could not
put in a word.”
“Do not invent such a speech for me. However, I
have been up the Nile. I met Palliser when he first
came out—he was rather a wreck, poor fellow; then I
saw him afterwards at Philae, and he was quite himself
-quite keen about an excursion into the desert after
he had reached the second cataract. He talks of
returning about the end of February. Barnard has
been doing some splendid work, he gets the atmospheric
effect of blazing heat wonderfully. Palliser seems enjoy-
ing the trip immensely.”
“I am very glad to hear it," said Janet earnestly.
She had listened eagerly to Darrell's report.
“And
you think he is quite well and strong?"
“I should say better than he has been for a long
time. He will come up blooming for the happy re-union
that awaits you both. Why, Mrs. Palliser, you and your
husband beat the record of all the sensational novelists
by a long way. What an extraordinary story.”
“It is, indeed,” cried Lady Saville. "It was almost
the only thing poor Sir Frederic cared to talk about.


AN INTERLUDE.
71
He wanted to know the minutest particulars, but I don't
think Janet cares to talk about it, she looks so ghastly
white. It has been a dreadful time! It is so bright
and fine to-day, and not at all cold, suppose we take a
nice, long walk. I have grown quite fond of walking
since I have leave of absence every day for an hour's
exercise.”
These few days passed very pleasantly. The quar-
tette were constantly together-Captain Rowley enjoyed
taking Darrell over some of the ships, new and old, the
latter being a keen yachtsman, and, the old sailor ad-
mitted, wonderfully wide awake for an amateur.
Lady Saville paid more than one visit to Mrs. Bent,
who was greatly gratified by her praises of Maurice,
and her husband-like most men—was quite charmed
with the gracious little lady. They had much talk
about Langford and its people. Mr. and Mrs. Bent
were going to spend New Year's Day and the rest of
the week with her mother, who, of course, adored her
grand-children, and Janet begged Lady Saville not to
desert her and her father, till that festival was over.
To this she assented, while Lord Darrell offered to
stay and escort his aunt as far as Paris on her home-
ward journey.
It was a pleasant interval to Janet. She felt the
charm of congenial society; she was grateful for the
welcome attention, but her heart and spirit were de-


72
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
pressed by the weight of an important decision over
which she had thought long and deeply. She did her
best to be a sympathetic companion, and succeeded
fairly well.
And when, on the third day of the new
year, Lady Saville and suite departed for “London en
route for the Continent," as the Kingsport Weekly In-
telligencer informed its readers, Janet could not quite
restrain her tears.
“I hope to Heaven," said Lady Saville to her
nephew, as they settled themselves in their carriage, “I
hope to Heaven she will recover her looks in time!
Randal will be awfully disgusted if he has to present a
tear-stained, pallid, attenuated sufferer to the world as
his re-married wife.”
“I suppose that would be his feeling," returned
Darrell slowly. "I don't quite understand it myself,
but I confess I am a little puzzled by Janet-I mean
Mrs. Palliser, too, she is greatly changed, though physi-
cally that will come all right, but there is something
absorbing her mind. I trust in God that Palliser has
found out her worth during this separation-she is a
woman not to be lightly lost.”
“Lost! Why, of course he will not lose her! In
point of fact, they are as firmly married as ever.”
“You think so?” he returned. “It is awfully raw
and cold. Let me put this fur rug round you.”


BREAKING AWAY.
73
CHAPTER V.
BREAKING AWAY.
THE weather during Lady Saville's visit had been
very variable, one day mild and spring like, the next
chill with a sharp east wind, and Janet had contrived
to take cold. Her father noticed with some anxiety
that her colds clung to her as they used not to do;
they were always accompanied by fever, and succeeded
by great weakness. He was much exercised in his
mind by his daughter's mental condition, she was so
patient (patience used not to be a speciality of hers), so
quiet-above all, so silent.
And now, thought the captain, there was really no-
thing to fret about. In a very few months she would
be Mrs. Palliser of Mervyn again, with all the advan-
tages and privileges belonging to her station, and prob-
ably of more importance in her husband's eyes because
of the temporary separation. “I wish the fellow would
write a little oftener, and seemed a little more anxious
to come back to her. No doubt he is, but women are
such fanciful creatures, they want a man to be saying
so all the time—any way, I had better hold my tongue.


74
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
I'd only make a mull of it, for I am a clumsy old chap
at best. Why, it's nearly three weeks since there was
a line from him. I wish she'd write, anyhow. It does
not do to keep a strict debtor account in such matters,
but I'll not meddle.”
It was two or three days before Janet left her room,
during which time Mrs. Bent was constant in her visits.
She had had leave of absence during January to pass a
few weeks with her mother, and she had much to talk
about and describe of the changes and improvements at
Langford, which deeply interested Janet.
“I suppose your mother adores your chiidren?" she
observed one afternoon, as her friend was talking with
her over the bright little fire in her bedroom.
“Yes! they are a great pleasure to the dear mother,
but I really think the Vicar spoils them more.”
“I daresay,” returned Janet thoughtfully, “imagine
how my father would have worshipped a grandson!”
She paused and burst out as if she could not control
her words. “What a terrible misfortune it would have
been if poor little children had come to us!”
“Don't say that, Janet! They are so sweet, and—
then, who knows? Mr. Palliser is a man of great in-
fluence—something might have been done to legitimatise
them!”
“Nevertheless I am very, very glad I never had
any,” said Janet with a sigh, and after a brief pause


BREAKING AWAY.
75
added, “How much I should like to see dear Mrs. Win-
yard once more.”
“She often speaks of you. After all of us, she loves
you best, I am sure! It is difficult to uproot her, but
she has promised to pay me a visit in May, after Maggie
is married.”
“And is it fixed?” (the wedding of the Vicar's
youngest daughter).
“Yes, for the twentieth of April! I am sure Grace
will feel being left the last at home.”
“She is a fine, strong, unselfish woman, she will
soon get accustomed to it.”
"Everyone will be enchanted to get you back, Janet!
I fancy you will have even a grander reception than
the first."
“Hush!” cried Janet, raising herself in her chair,
“I cannot bear to hear of it-I mean, the idea of such
excitement makes me ill.”
"I am afraid you are very weak, dear,” said Mrs.
Bent rising, "and I must leave you. This is John's
early afternoon, so I like to be at home to give him
his tea.”
“Yes, of course! I managed to write a letter to
Mr. Palliser last night when dear old dad thought I was
in bed and asleep—will you post it for me?”
“Certainly! I hope he was well when you heard
from him.”


76
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
are
“He seemed in excellent health and spirits.”
Mrs. Bent took the letter, kissed her friend and de-
parted.
The next day Janet joined her father at dinner to
his great satisfaction. She was looking delicate, but he
observed that she was more cheerful and disposed to
talk than she had been for some time, and even pro-
posed a hit at backgammon. This improvement en-
couraged him to break through the rule he had laid
down for himself.
“You will write and let Palliser know you
nearly all right again, eh, Jeanie?” This was an oc-
casional pet name.
“He does not know there was anything the matter
with me! But I have written a long letter to him, a
letter that has been long on my mind, and it is high
time it was written.”
“Blowing him up, eh?” asked the old man, looking
keenly at her.
She shook her head with a smile.
“It is too late to talk of it now, but I will tell you
all about it to-morrow. I will come down directly after
breakfast, and-_" she paused.
“You must not tire yourself!”
“No-noit rests me to talk to you."
*
*
*
*


BREAKING AWAY.
77
“I have been struggling for courage to open my
heart to you, dear father," began Janet, when she had
descended to the “Den," where she found Captain
Rowley in a very restless condition. “So please listen
to what I have to say without exclamations, however
strange it may sound.”
“I am sure I am not given to interrupt,” he ejacu-
lated.
Then there was a silence.
“Is it about
your
letter?”
She bent her head.
“You've done something foolish?”
No answer.
“Come! what was your letter about?”
Then the words broke forth:
“My letter?—my letter was to tell him I will never
be his wife again!"
“His wife!—refused to be his wife? I don't seem
to understand," said the old man with a dazed look.
“Do not be angry with me, dear, dear father! I am
so grieved to vex and disappoint you, but I cannot go
back to Randal Palliser,” said Janet, and her voice
showed her mouth was dry with agitation.
“You must have very grave reasons for entertaining
so extraordinary an intention! What are they?" asked
Captain Rowley, with a sudden dignity, as if the
depths of his nature had been touched.


78
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
Janet could not speak, and he continued, still stand-
ing before her:
“I have sometimes feared you were not quite as
happy as I could have wished, but-I never would ask
a question. Silence is the best mode of healing wounds
when a woman is married—but, child! think of all you
forego, think of the injury to yourself, think of the in-
justice to him-I-I cannot believe you are serious.
You've had some tiff with Palliser, and fancy yourself
implacable.”
“I wish we had had tiffs,” exclaimed Janet. “If
we had quarrelled and made it up again, we might have
loved each other fondly through it all. It was the
deadly quiet of Siberian coldness that killed all tender-
ness, all affection. Ah! believe me, I have suffered.”
She paused abruptly.
“Have you any reason to think that he was un-
faithful to you?” asked Captain Rowley sternly.
“No, such an idea never occurred to me. When
we had been a year married I saw a change in him—
indeed, I had begun to fear it before, then—then
Richard Palliser's son was born, and I had no children.
I saw this was an unpardonable failure—I tried, oh! so
hard to win him back, to touch him, till I hated myself
for my fruitless slavishness. Then I let my own love
go, but I hated my position—it humiliated me to be at
the head of his house, to wear the costly clothes he paid


BREAKING AWAY.
79
on me as
for, to be decked in his jewels, all part of the bargain,
in which I had failed to perform my share!
No! no
words can describe the torture of those years, while
Randal grew more and more icy! I know he looked
a useless incumbrance—so long as I was
linked to him irretrievably, I was determined to keep a
fair face to the world! Had this bondage continued
for some years longer, I should probably have grown
harder and accustomed to it, but now, when I am still
warm, with life vibrating painfully in every nerve, could
I resist seizing this blessed chance?"
Captain Rowley subsided into a large chair, with a
sort of moan.
“But, Janet,” he said, “after all, you have no ill-
treatment to complain of; you had everything you
wanted, everything suitable to your position, and—and
you confess you had no reason to doubt his fidelity.”
“I might have known he was faithless, yet forgiven
and loved him still, if he had returned to me with
affection and tenderness, after wandering from the
straight road, but without a counter-attraction, he had
simply wearied of me, and would willingly have broken
away from me if he could. Believe me, I am doing
Randal good service.”
"My child," he interrupted, think of the motives
that will be attributed to you-everyone will believe
you have a lover in the background! And think of


80
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
the reports that will be spread abroad of Palliser's
villainy!”
“The first year will be bad,” said Janet steadily,
“but we shall both live it down. Before twelve months
are over Randal will have found another wife—then,
if she gives him a son, he will bless me! Oh, father,
dear father," throwing her arms round him, “do not
grudge me the first gleam of hope I have had for all
these dreary years. Do not turn me from the only real
home I have ever known. Let me have the happiness
of being with you, of caring for you. No doubt about
my rights in your house. Let me have peace, my dear
father!” and she burst into a passionate fit of weeping.
The old man was quite overcome. He held her to
his heart, and uttered confused sentences.
“It's an awful business. I never heard of anything
like it. Send you away, my precious pet?—not likely,
when you are the light of my eyes! You know you are
just setting law and religion at defiance. You, a well-
brought-up girl. I am sure I hadn't a notion that
Palliser was a cold blooded rascal of that sort. My
God! that he should have made you miserable! Don't
cry, dear, you shall do just as you like, only I will not
hear of your deciding all of a sudden; take time, my
pet.”
“I have taken time, dearest Dad. I have been
studying this step for months, and, as it affects Randal


BREAKING AWAY.
81
too. I will never return to the man who was my
husband. I shall make my existence somehow, even if
you turn me out. If you let me stay, I will not cost
you much.”
“Cost me much. My child, you are worth your
weight in gold to me, and I am better off than I used
to be. These years, while I had only my own old self
to pay for, I saved up a bit, and invested a trifle; Tom
managed that for me. Oh, Lord, what will Mrs. Tom
say?”
“It does not matter much, dear; we'll go away some-
where together, and after a while I shall forget I was
ever married—ever anything but Janet Rowley.”
“Ah, but you'll not forget so easily. Child, you
have not counted the cost of such an—an outrageous
act. Why—why did you not consult me before you
committed yourself in writing?”
“Because, dear, I knew you would oppose me, so I
wished to commit myself first. Father, I thought out
this resolution with all the force of my heart and brain,
and I shall not be diverted from it. My deepest regret
is to cause you pain, but when that is past, you too
will be far, far happier—so will Randal. Dearest father,
I cannot go back to my former life.”
The old man walked distractedly to and fro.
“How will you stand the--the sort of disgrace,
Janet?” he cried. “To have lived nearly five years with
A Choice of Evils. II.
6


82
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
a man, and then to proclaim to the world that you
don't mind the disgrace of being no wife at all.”
“I neither see nor feel the disgrace of it. You will
have no cause to be ashamed of me."
There was a few moments' silence, then Captain
Rowley came to the fire-place and stood still.
"Look here, Janet,” he said more composedly, "I
am not going to speak another word on the subject
until we see what Palliser has to say for himself. No,
not another word. You must have more to complain
of than you admit, but whatever happens, try to be just
to your husband. Yes, he is your husband. If his own
conscience does not condemn him, he'll find it deuced
hard to forgive such a proposition as you have made,
but, we'll see, so say no more at present.”
“Very well; it is perhaps wiser. I will leave you
now, dear, for I feel tired and shaken, and
Her voice failed.
“Child,” he exclaimed, “don't wear yourself out
with unnecessary troubles, and, my darling, you may
believe that, right or wrong, your old Dad will stick to
you through thick and thin."
She threw her arms round him, and kissed his
rather rugged face lovingly, then went quickly to her
room to compose herself before they met again.
Thank God, the ice was broken—now there could
be no drawing back. A little more courage and endur-
>


BREAKING AWAY.
83
ance, and the links which bound her to the past would
be broken, and she might begin a new life-a very
quiet and obscure one, but peaceful, and unembittered
by the sense of being in a false position, of being an
unprofitable partner, who had failed to fulfil her share
of the agreement, which had been a canker to her
soul.
“Will Gertrude or Lady Darrell have anything to
do with me when they know?” she thought. "Shall I
have strength to stand alone? I firmly believe I am
doing right. If there was the faintest hope of being of
any real use to Randal, I should not hesitate, but he
will be better in every way without me. He will feel
that at once, but he will be terribly vexed all the same,
and when the fight is over- - What a long stretch of
life lies before me! It is not exhilarating to think of,
but I do not fear. I shall find my niche, I shall find
work. How I wish the next month were over!”
*
*
Captain Rowley was not a man of exalted intellect,
nor of angelic character, but he had a stout backbone
and a clear idea of right and wrong. He kept strictly
to his determination, not to speak on the subject of
his daughter's extraordinary resolution to break with
Palliser. But it was never absent from the mind of
either of them. This naturally put a drag on their con-
versation, so time went all the slower, as each privately
6*


84
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
counted the days which must intervene before Janet
could have a reply.
She kept much indoors, and rather avoided her
friend, Mrs. Bent, feeling that, for the present, she was
a species of impostor. As the days dropped one by
one into the abyss of the past like leaden weights, both
father and daughter grew more restless and more silent,
occasionally an expressive hand pressure passed be-
tween them, and there was something of solemn tender-
ness in the tone with which he added, “And God bless
you,” to his usual “Good-night.”
A week or more had passed since Janet's fatal
letter was sent, when, in the late afternoon a telegram
was brought to her:
“ALEXANDRIA, Feb. —'89.
“Yours just received. I start by the English mail
steamer for Brindisi to-morrow morning, to reply in
person."
The paper fell from her hand.
The battle was
then imminent; she must be true to herself. If she
could only escape giving Randal pain! The bitter-
ness she used at times to feel seemed to have passed
out of her heart; she only wanted to be free, not to
hurt anyone.
“It will soon be over,” she told herself encourag-
ingly, and then?—would it be the peace of death?


BREAKING AWAY.
85
When Captain Rowley (who had been out for his
usual “constitutional") returned, Janet gave him the
telegram without a word. He read it carefully, and
then, to Janet's surprise, said in a tone of some exulta-
tion:
“By George, you have stirred him up. Now, my
pet, promise me to hear all he has to say steadily and
impartially."
“Yes!” returned Janet very deliberately, "I can
promise so much.”
The days which succeeded seemed longer than
ever, Janet could scarcely eat or sleep, and Captain
Rowley was not much better. Finally, before she
thought he could have reached England, as she sat
trying to do some needlework (for reading was quite
out of the question), the drawing-room door was opened
and Mrs. Brown—“General Brown," as Captain Rowley
called her, because she was a general servant, an-
nounced in a joyous tone:
“Mr. Palliser, ma'am!”
He entered quickly, looking embrowned and remark-
ably well, alert, distinguished, with an irresistible air.
“Janet!” he exclaimed, and paused in his ap-
proach. “Why, Janet, have you been ill? You ought
to have told me."
He looked keenly at her, but did not offer his
hand.


86
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
“Not seriously ill,” she returned rising, though feel-
ing for a moment blind, and deaf, and dizzy, with a
terrible sensation of faintness. “I have only had a suc-
cession of colds, and you, Randal-you seem remark-
ably well?”
“Yes, I am all right, only somewhat done up after
a very hurried journey. I have come to answer your
insane letter in person! Pray was it written in the
delirium of fever?” he went on in a contemptuous tone,
“or—what does it mean?” and he drew a chair, facing
her with great composure.
“What it expresses, Randal. I do not wish to be
your wife again."
“I am afraid the long nervous strain has been too
much for you? Has it induced softening of the brain?”
he said coldly.
“Rather hardening of the heart, in the sense of
strengthening it,” returned Janet steadily, for having
made the beginning, she felt her courage rise. "Do
not think I am speaking from any weak or passionate
impulse. I have thought of this for months!"
“Who is my rival?” exclaimed Palliser fiercely.
“What fresh humiliation have you planned for me?
Is this your return for the tenderness, the luxury, I
have heaped upon you?”
“You have no rival, Randal! God knows I do not
want to injure you! I shall injure myself much more


BREAKING AWAY,
87
I am
we
-but you have long ceased to love me, and I have
failed to fulfil your dearest wish.
an un-
profitable servant,' my own affection is frozen out-
why—for want of a little courage, should either
of us go back into bondage? Why try to mend up our
'broken links'?”
She was quite herself now, and conveyed a sudden
impression of resolute purpose, which astonished Pal-
liser.
“You are mad, decidedly mad," he exclaimed,
pacing the room after the fashion of perplexed men.
“If you persist in this unpardonable folly, people will
say that I have treated you brutally, in spite of my
seeming a gentleman! I shall not be left a shred of
character!”
“I shall always speak well of you, Randal! You
were never brutal! You could not be!
You only
pierced, you did not crush! You ceased to love me
why—you could not tell probably. My love died harder
because of its own nature, I suppose--and therefore I
suffered more pain. So much pain--that if—if you
could have understood, you might have been more
merciful! You see no grandeur, nor success, nor wealth,
could make up for the want of which-of what you
perhaps could not give; but that is all over now,
my love is quite dead too. I will never be your wife
again.”


88
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
“By Heaven, Janet! I cannot fathom your motives
-you have some secret motive, I am convinced?”
“Yes!—a strong one.
I want to secure peace and
self-respect. In your house I could have neither.”
“But, Janet! Try to be reasonable, try to be like
other people. In sober seriousness, what have you to
complain of? Have I ever denied you anything you
ever wished for? Have I not rather anticipated your
wishes? Have you not had the fullest advantage of
your position as my wife? You ought to know by this
time, that the effervescence of passion cannot last! I
did my best to bear what was a cruel disappointment,
and though you must have known what a constant
source of bitterness it was to me--
“And to me,” interrupted Janet in a low tone.
“Do you think I was ever for a moment unconscious
of your disappointment? Do you think you possess
any mental plummet by which you could sound the
depth, the intensity of my cruel mortification, my sense
of absolute guilt towards you? This surely can ac-
count for my eagerness to set you free? Believe me, I
am as anxious to give you freedom as to secure it for
myself!”
“And what is to become of you, if
you carry out
this amazing scheme? Will you settle down into poverty
and obscurity?”
>>


BREAKING AWAY.
89
“Yes! I shall return to the place from whence I
came.”
“But don't you, as 'a religious woman, feel yourself
bound by those solemn words; “Whom God hath joined
together let not man put asunder??”
“Which of your wives did God especially join you
to, Randal?” she asked, a sad smile passing over her
lips. “Would the sanctity of our vows have saved me
harmless, had I remained with you when that wretched
woman reappeared? Accident has played sad havoc
with the holiness of the tie which bound us.”
“Your selfishness will ruin me!” exclaimed Palliser,
pausing in his troubled walk. “Men will shun me
aye, and women too, when they reckon all you re-
nounce, rather than return to me!"
“No, Randal, no! Before a year is over you will
be accepted as kindly as ever in Society, and fair
women will be as ready to marry you, for you have
everything---reputation, wealth, station, charm-ah! how
much charm I once knew well!”
She raised her eyes to his with something of the old
tenderness in their gaze.
A curious thrill ran through his veins.
“Janet! you have been foolishly exacting! A man
cannot always be a lover, even to so sweet a woman as
you are.
Can you believe I am indifferent to you,


90
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
dearest?” drawing a chair beside her and taking her
hand—“If you look into my eyes-—"
Janet smiling, interrupted him.
“No, I do not believe it, Randal, I know it. I do
not blame you, I suppose it is involuntary, only—of all
the manifestations I have experienced from you, none
have ever estranged me so much as your passing fits
of caressing fondness which to-morrow turned to dust
and ashes; I have no enmity to you, Randal—how
could you give me what you do not possess? But
it would be madness not to grasp this chance of free-
dom!”
"I will plead no more," cried Palliser, rising, white
with rage and mortification, his momentary feeling of
tenderness vanishing. “I suppose you have taken into
consideration the effect this disastrous decision will have
upon your father?”
“I have,” she returned sadly. “It will distress him,
I fear, but on my head be it.”
“Very well,” said Palliser sternly, "I give you a
week to reconsider the matter; at the end of that time,
should you continue in the same mind—we part--for
ever.”
"In a week,” said Janet, steadily, "I will in any case
write to you."
Palliser stood silent for a moment and then said:
"I must see Captain Rowley; he cannot approve of


92
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
startled her, and the next moment a tap on her own
door announced Captain Rowley.
His face was flushed, his air disturbed. He did
not speak for a moment, but came across the room
and stood by the fire, looking away to the window,
evidently seeing nothing.
“He's gone!” said he at length; "it's a bad business,
Janet! I did not think you would have been so obstinate.
Palliser is deeply offended, and we cannot wonder-I
don't suppose a greater affront was ever put on a man.
In short, he lost all self-control, and said many things
that had been better left unsaid. I do not know that
I should recommend you to return to him now, unless
indeed you come round at once before any whisper of
your intention gets out. My child! you must have
some stronger reason for such a desperate step than
any you have told me.
I am not asking your reasons,
I have faith in you, and I do not believe you would
make such a proposition without sufficient cause. So,
my dear, though I would advise you to reconsider the
matter carefully before you give Palliser the final answer
he demands, I shall interfere no further. You are the
best of daughters, and I shall stand by you, come what
may."
“Then I fear nothing!” cried Janet, clasping her
arms round him; "this is a rough passage, dearest, but


BREAKING AWAY.
93
we'll get into smooth waters by-and-bye, and spend
many a peaceful day together.”
*
*
*
Punctually at the date appointed, Palliser received
the following:
“I write as I promised. I am still in the same
mind, Randal; we shall probably never meet again, at
least I hope not, for I could never see you without
emotion. I do not blame you for ceasing to love me,
I suppose you could not help it. I only pity myself,
because I have lost both your love and my own. I
hope and believe that you will yet thank me for the
step I am taking. Though I leave you, I am still
“Yours faithfully,
"JANET ROWLEY.”


94
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
CHAPTER VI.
A FRESH START.
To this letter Janet received no reply for a few
days, when a stiff business epistle from Palliser's solicitor
reached her, in which her decision was formally ac-
cepted, and she was informed that all the personal
possessions left in Mr. Palliser's keeping should be care-
fully forwarded to her.
This answer agitated Captain Rowley a good deal,
he read it more than once, then laid it down on the
table, and removing his glasses, beat them softly and
meditatively on it.
“This business is finished then," he said gravely.
“I don't suppose anything would reconcile Palliser to
you now.
I trust in God you will never repent.”
“I have no fear on that score, my dear father! I
am sure as time rolls on, you too, will cease to regret
my resolution! For the anxiety I am now causing you,
you must forgive me! I have suffered! Indeed, I have
suffered much.”
Captain Rowley sighed deeply, and after a moment's
silence stretched out his broad, sinewy hand, and closely


96
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
Palliser's part.
Had he shown some perception of his
own quiet, half-unconscious cruelty towards her, some
remorse for the hard indifference with which he had
repulsed her many efforts to soften and to win him
back, he might perhaps have induced her to forego her
resolution to part from him, but he seemed quite in-
capable of understanding that he was in any way to
blame. The gulf between them was deepened and
widened, and Janet already felt her mind, her nerves
steadying into a common sense view of her position.
“I shall feel like my old self before long,” she
thought. "Freedom will give me strength and energy.
I shall find some work to do, which will prevent me
from being quite a burden to my dear old father. He
will be very happy by-and-by! Ought I to write to
Tom? He will be furious—that cannot be helped.
do not think I need write just yet! I should like to go
away out of reach first, or he will rush down here and
make a
scene with my father, and I may lose my
temper! Ah! I have got through the worst of it-
perhaps? I do not yet know how far I can resist the
influence of disapprobation!”
I
*
After reaching this stage of the rupture, things
seemed to go quickly. To Mrs. Bent it appeared quite
natural that Janet should require change, and that
Captain Rowley should seek a tenant.


98
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
You must be prepared to have the most cruel and
(probably) unjust suspicions heaped upon you, and to
have your life and doings scrutinised in the most un-
favourable spirit, at any rate for nine days.
“I could understand your conduct better, if Captain
Rowley were as rich as I am sure he deserves to be,
but I fear you have committed yourself to a triste
existence, and though you are amazingly good, I don't
suppose you will mourn all the days of your life, be-
cause you made a false start! Why could you not
make up your mind to let your husband go? He hadn't
a pleasant temper, but he gave you large compensations;
you would, as you grew older, have been quite a social
leader, and you had such a charming house! Now,
though Randal is my brother, and has been very
generous to me, I know he can be horrid! Once you
cease to amuse him, or gratify him, or to be necessary,
you cease to exist for him, but there are many men
like that, and some women. I remember thinking,
when I was last at Mervyn, that you were going through
the preliminary stage of agony, but you would have got
used to it in time, and hardened into a very comfort-
able condition. However, it is all over now.
Randal
is in a white fury—I never saw a man so mad with
mortification !-you have certainly paid him out. Of
course he took off the mask before me, still he is not
I asked him if he wished me to break with you.
mean.


A FRESH START.
99
He said No! I was to do as I liked, only I was never
to mention your name before him. That is but natural,
so I am not going to break with you, dear! I was
always fond of you; you are the only good woman I
ever met who was not tiresome!
“The people who have our place are going away.
Should we return, you must come and stay with me. I
should be so pleased to see you.
“Is there no chance of your patching up a peace
with Randal? Could I do anything towards such a
consummation? We came here about ten days ago,
hoping the change would do Sir Frederic good, but he
is still very indifferent and terribly depressed. I had a
letter from Alec a day or two ago. They are quartered
at Rawul Pindi.
He has made great friends with
Maurice Winyard, who was wonderfully good to him
when he was ill last Autumn. My kind love to Captain
Rowley.
“Ever your attached,
“GERTRUDE SAVILLE."
22
"I am afraid," said Captain Rowley gravely, as he
took off his pince-nez, “I am afraid Lady Saville is a
trifle flighty—she treats a serious matter very flippantly.”
“She is very kind and sympathetic, but it is her
style; she doesn't mean half she says," returned Janet.
“Anyhow, she means all this!” tapping the letter
with his glasses.
7*


IOO
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
“She means to be very kind, dad!”
The other epistle was dated from Rome.
“MY DEAR YOUNG FRIEND,
“I must call you this until I know how you wish to
be addressed. I have rarely been so disturbed as by
this disastrous split between you and Mr. Palliser. Why
did you not seek the intervention of friends before it
was too late? You have placed yourself in a cruelly
false and difficult position - a position in which the
least indiscretion may be ruinous."
The writer pro-
ceeded to enlarge on the error of judgment committed
by her young friend, and the insurmountable barrier
she had placed between her husband and herself. “I
confess,” continued Lady Darrell, “I perceived that you
were not as happy as your friends might have wished,
even in the early days when first I had the pleasure of
knowing you. But patience and forbearance overcome
enormous difficulties. I believe that your trials were
considerable, still Mr. Palliser was not a bad husband
as husbands go! It is too late, however, to retrieve
what has been done. Though greatly distressed at what
has occurred, I hope to renew my acquaintance-I will
say friendship, with you, when I return to England.
Pray keep me informed of your whereabouts.
“When we meet, I have no doubt you will tell me
more than you care to put on paper.


IO2
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
the sea.
in finding a nice tenant for his cottage, and did her best
to find one for him.
“I have heard of something quite suitable,” she ex-
claimed one morning, having come through the rain to
pay an early visit to Janet. “Mr. Dalton, a friend of
my husband's, is ordered to join his ship—he has only
one little girl who is very delicate, and must stay near
Mrs. Dalton's people live down here too, so
they want a small, pretty house, and I have advised her
to look at this. The difficulty is, she wants it for a
year, and you will probably wish to return in three or
four months!”
“I think my father might let her have it for a year!”
returned Janet quickly.
“If he could, I think it might do nicely. She wants
to come in soon, as Mr. Dalton would like to see her
settled before he starts.”
“We could leave in three or four days; we have
been making preparations for the last fortnight."
The following day Mrs. Dalton called and saw the
house, and liking it very much, the matter was soon
settled, the incoming tenants gladly agreeing to take
Mrs. Brown also.
This arrangement set Captain Rowley's mind free to
concentrate itself on their plan of travel.
strict economist, and enjoyed making twopence go as
far as some would a shilling; but he was no niggard,
He was
a


104
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
fort as Janet would miss, after the luxuries of her
married life.
“She is looking better, decidedly better, bless her
heart!" the old man mused, pausing in a careful revision
of his banking account. “She is pale and thin, but
her eyes are more restful and brighter! It's cruel to
have her life blighted at little more than six-and-twenty.
Is it blighted though? There's lots of vitality in her
yet—if, as time goes on, she doesn't miss her beautiful
home, and the finery that surrounded her, and fret over
it all-ah! well, she has a stout heart.”
Here his musings were interrupted by Janet's en-
trance with an open letter.
“Here is a very kind invitation from Tom's wife,”
she said, “they both want us to spend a few days with
them as we pass through town.”
“What would you like to do, Janet?”
“I should rather not go to them! It would really
be taking advantage of their hospitality on false pre-
tences, for you may be quite sure that Tom will be
furious with me, when he knows I have broken away
from Mr. Palliser."
“Ay, that he will!” returned Captain Rowley, lean-
ling back in his chair, and thrusting his hands into his
trouser pockets with a troubled sigh.
“You must not worry about the fury, when it comes,
dearest Dad! You are going to trust me, to stand by


A FRESH START.
105
me, and so long as we love each other, we will not care
for the outer world!”
"Just so, my dear, but Tom is not exactly outside,
and both he and his wife have been very nice and kind
all through this business.
“They were, I know, and their displeasure will be
all the greater in consequence. However, we must bear
that, and we shall get over it. I think our best plan
would be not to stay in London at all!”
"Just so!” cried her, father; “we'll take an early
train, have a bit of dinner at Victoria, and travel by
Newhaven and Dieppe the same night to Paris. You
are sure it will not be too much for you?”
“Not in the least-I am much stronger than I was
a week ago."
Captain Rowley looked earnestly at her in silence
for an instant.
“I believe you are," he said, “I believe you are."
“If you would like to stay in Paris for a week,
there is no reason why we should not,” she paused
and continued with a slight effort, “I see in this morn-
ing's paper that Mr. R. Palliser, M.P. for Southshire, had
an interview with the Home Secretary, so there will be
no chance of running against him in Paris. I am glad,”
she added reflectively, "to see he interests himself in
politics again!”


108
A CHOICE OF EVILS,
woman's inconsistency! She must know that he is
bound to keep at a civil distance until the six months
are up:
He might so easily create talk and com-
promise her!”
“Well, I cannot quite account for my impression,
but I feel a strange presentiment of trouble. I trust it
may prove a mere groundless fancy."
“Of course it is. The only trouble that could arise
would be if the devil put it in Palliser's head to refuse
to renew his matrimonial vows, which he dare not. He
would be hounded out of Society."
“Oh, I never dreamed of that,” returned Mrs. Bent,
smiling. Here they reached the junction of the road
with one which skirted the common, and Mrs. Bent,
perceiving the children at a little distance, hastened to
meet them, while her husband turned towards the
Dockyard.


WELCOME BACK.
109
CHAPTER VII.
WELCOME BACK.
THERE was
a note of preparation in Mrs. Bent's
modest, but comfortable establishment, one fine evening
at the end of April, little more than a year after the
end of our last chapter. The best table linen and china
were set forth, an unusually large supply of flowers
adorned both drawing and dining-rooms, while the
children were washed and curled, and arrayed in the
freshest of their simple garments.
Mrs. Bent looked radiant; she was one of those
fortunate women who, without a single good feature, are
pleasant and attractive to the eye.
Though bright, there was a chill touch of east wind
in the air, and a cheerful fire of wood and coal burned
in the drawing-room. Mrs. Bent had just stirred it into
a brighter condition when the sound of a carriage
stopping made her turn and go swiftly into the hall to
meet a gentleman, who was in the act of entering, as
he crossed the threshold.
“Maurice, my dear brother! how delighted I am to


IIO
A CHOICE OF EVILS,
see you again!” she exclaimed, as she threw her arms
round his neck.
“Why, Mary, you are looking blooming! Yes, it is
a joy to see your face again," he exclaimed, returning
her embrace. “I was puzzled for a minute at the sta-
tion when your husband spoke to me, not expecting to
see him. He looks like a good fellow.”
“Ah, he is indeed!” she exclaimed with happy as-
surance in her eyes. “Come—come in,” passing her
arm through his and leading him into the drawing-room,
while Mr. Bent saw to the traveller's luggage.
“Now, Maurice dear, take off your overcoat, and let
me have a look at you.” She helped him to remove it,
and stood back a moment to gaze at him.
He was changed-yes, a good deal changed. He
seemed both taller and broader-browner, graver, and
possessed of large moustaches a little darker than his
hair. He also looked ill and thin, even lantern-jawed,
his eyes too seemed considerably larger than they used
to be, while something of sternness tempered their
former laughing expression.
“You look much older, Maurice, and have been
very ill, dear?”
“No, not very ill, but a long time out of sorts. I
put off coming home rather too long, but I'll soon be
all right. It seems such ages since I left home. I
don't suppose any other piece of my life will 'ever ap-


WELCOME BACK.
III
pear so long. But for you, Molly, time has—well, not
stood still; it has been most beneficently active; you
look fifty per cent. better and prettier than when I left
you."
“Ah, Maurice, there is no beautifier like happi-
ness.”
"I believe it," he returned, patting her on the
shoulder.
“Where are your babies? I am longing to see
them. I am awfully fond of children.”
“And they are impatiently waiting to see Uncle
Maurice,” she replied, going to the door and calling
“Frank, Kitty!" In another minute two little figures
rushed into the room and stopped short just inside the
door, clasping each other's hands, overcome with sud-
den shyness. They were nice, healthy, intelligent
children, but by no means beautiful—indeed, the little
boy would have been very plain but for a good pair of
dark eyes, having a quaint little face full of fun, with a
comic up-turned nose; the girl was about a year and a
half older, with abundant reddish-gold locks, and a
complexion like milk and roses.
“What jolly little souls! they look pictures of
health," said Maurice. “Won't you come and kiss your
uncle?” They still hesitated, then Miss Kitty took the
initiative and advanced, dragging the boy with her.
“Are you really mamma's brother?” asked Kitty.


112
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
“Used you to be in the nursery with her, and stick
pins in her doll's face like Frank?" she continued, mak-
ing herself at home on her uncle's knee.
“Yes, and she tyrannised over me as I daresay you
do' over this little fellow.”.
“No, no, I don't. Frank is very naughty some-
times and will not do what I tell him."
“Then she gets into such a 'wage,'” cried Frank,
"and throws things at me! but she never throws straight,
so I don't mind.”
“Really, children, I am ashamed of you," said their
mother, “to tell tales of each other the first moment
you meet your uncle."
"Oh, let them be natural," said Maurice, laughing.
“They won't be the worse friends hereafter for having
lived in a healthy state of warfare at first; from such
beginnings noble friendships rise." And he continued
to talk to them till Frank perched himself on his uncle's
unoccupied knee, and, Mr. Bent coming in, created a
diversion. Then it was dinner time, and Mrs. Bent
took her brother to his room, closed the window, stirred
the fire with loving care, and expressed a wish that
she could have made it larger and more luxurious.
“My dear girl, everything here seems infinitely com-
fortable and pretty! You don't know what bare quarters
we have in India—at least, generally-by the way,
don't give me any more fires. I enjoy the fresh cool-


WELCOME BACK.
113
ness immensely. You home-staying people seem to feel
the cold twice as much as I do."
“That is curious! Now I will leave you. How
nice it is to have you under the same roof once more.”
It was a very pleasant, cheery dinner. Mr. Bent
took at once to his brother-in-law; both were straight-
forward, simple-minded Britons, not afflicted with intel-
lectual cranks or subtleties, ready to do their duty in
the state of life to which they had been called, and
equally ready to believe that they were rather unprofit-
able servants if they did no more.
Mrs. Bent listened with deep interest to their con-
versation, saying little herself, but admiring the superior
tone, the decision and clearness of all her brother said.
He had evidently been "a man in authority,” accus-
tomed to associate on terms of equality with men in
high and responsible positions, yet there was not a tinge
of boasting in his talk, which was absolutely free from
any trace of self-consciousness.
In the drawing-room afterwards the conversation
turned on the old home and Langford.
you
think
my
father much more changed
than mother?” said Mrs. Bent, as she sat at her work
—some stitching for her little boy-in her own especial
basket chair.
“Yes, he has aged greatly. He is quite unfit for
work now.
The mother wears wonderfully; I did not
A Choice of Evils. II.
8
- And


WELCOME BACK.
115
the heart knoweth its own bitterness.' Her father
sticks to her steadily, but what his real opinion is we
cannot tell. The whole sad affair was irretrievable be-
fore we knew. Janet wrote to me from Genoa-just as
we expected her to return and be remarried—and said
she would never be Mr. Palliser's wife again, though
she admitted he had never done anything that would
entitle her to a divorce, but their relations had become
strained and intolerable, though she never wished to
hear or to say anything against him—she only wanted
to live at home with her father.”
“That remains to be proved," said Maurice drily.
“I must say it seems to me unworthy weakness not to
be able to endure a little unexpected unpleasantness
which would probably have passed over, not to mention
taking a mean advantage of her husband's misfortune.”
“That sounds very harsh, Maurice! I have faith
enough in Janet to believe she would not have acted as
she did, if she had not better reasons than she gave.”
“Well, I suppose you will not see much more of
her—they will probably live abroad—the Continent
seems the natural habitat for shady people!"
“My dear Maurice! you used to be so fond of
Janet; I did not think you would turn against her."
“Fond? Yes, I was a fool about her,” he returned,
smiling, “but that was a long time ago, and no doubt
I should have been in the same mental condition about
8*


116
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
any other girl who happened to live on the same terms
with us.”
“What a prosaic ending to your old romance!”
said Mrs. Bent, shaking her head.
“That sort of romance soon crumbles at the touch
of reality. I see you have a photograph of her here,”
taking it from the mantel-piece—“it is like and unlike!
Can Janet Rowley have developed into this stately-look-
ing personage?”
"It is a very good likeness, yet wants something
she has."
“Looking at this,” Maurice resumed while he gazed
at the picture, “I can better understand her conduct-
she had become a spoiled fine lady, ready to cry for
the moon."
“She did not give me that idea,” remarked Mr.
Bent, “and in leaving Palliser for the kind of life
she must lead with her father, she gave up a good
deal.”
“We haven't got to the end of the story yet,” said
Winyard, still looking at the photograph. "It is most
unfortunate that she overruled her father--as I suppose
she did—and let none of her friends know till she had
actually broken with Palliser, which makes matters
rather hopeless. I believe my father wrote to her very
strongly?”
“Yes, and Janet answered very kindly, even ten-


WELCOME BACK.
119
women
evil rather than choice of good. For such women no
sacrifice could be too great, but those who ventured to
chalk out lines of their own and defy opinion, were on
the whole worse than those whose weakness or neces-
sities had dragged them into depths of positive miscon-
duct. It was true that Winyard had only a pleasant,
amused recollection of his boyish love for Janet. Yet
the idea of her having joined the ranks of independent
was inexpressibly repugnant to him. Indeed
he was glad that Captain Rowley and his daughter
were not at Beachurst to disturb the tranquillity of his
visit.
He went to and fro to town, as he had business to
transact, and more than once was summoned to an
interview with the military authorities on matters Indian,
much to Mrs. Bent's pride and satisfaction.
Meantime, the weeks flew past, and still Janet and
her father did not return.
Their tenant had requested permission to remain a
couple of months longer, so it was the middle of May
before they settled themselves once more in their
pleasant little home.
The time which had intervened since they left it,
had been fruitful in many ways to Janet.
She had grown quite accustomed to her curious
position, she had the satisfaction of seeing how happy
her father was in her society,, a certain restful tran-


WELCOME BACK.
I 21
in order, and decorating it with the pretty trifles and
souvenirs she had collected during her wanderings, but
what pleased her most, was an early visit from her
faithful friend Mary the morning after her return.
Here was no change. Her greeting was as warmly
affectionate as ever, and having exchanged enquiries
and the first sentences of welcome and pleasure, they
sat down for a long talk.
“You are looking wonderfully better, Janet,” ex-
claimed Mrs. Bent. “More like your old self than I
have seen you look for years; only you have not the
bright colour you used to have in the Langford days."
“I imagine that is gone for ever,” said Janet smiling,
“but I feel very well, and glad to be at home again.
The dear father missed his garden and his carpentery.
I will never drag him from home for such a long time
again! Still, I think he enjoyed seeing new faces at
first. Tell me about the children. I have brought them
some Italian toys!”
“They will be delighted! They have been remark-
ably well all the winter, and Frank has grown very
much, neither of them has forgotten you. You must
come and dine with us to-morrow,
if
“You are very good, Mary,” returned Janet, and
then she paused. "I want you to be quite candid,
dear; are you sure Mr. Bent would be really pleased to
receive me? Some people, some men especially, do not
you can.”


I 22
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
approve of my conduct; few understand it, and I can
never explain; but, whatever he thinks, never force me
on your husband, Mary; we can be friends, and yet not
trouble him.”
“I will be quite candid! My husband really likes
you, and believes in you, but I cannot say he approves
of what you have done. He says he does not under-
stand your conduct, so must not form an opinion. He
is awfully sorry about it all, but he is just as ready as
ever to receive you, and be good friends with you, as
you will see when you meet him! You know how honest
he is. He cannot affect to be what he is not."
Janet watched her friend earnestly while she spoke.
"I am glad to hear you say this, Mary; so long as
you and Mr. Bent stand by me I do not care for mere
acquaintances. I have a few very staunch friends, but
it gives me a bitter pang to know how gravely the
Vicar and your dear mother disapprove of me."
“Time will soften that, Janet. If you saw them,
and talked to them, it would make a great difference-
people believe you when they see you.”
"That is a high compliment,” said Janet, smiling.
“You cannot think how much we enjoyed Maurice's
visit,” resumed Mrs. Bent, "he is so companionable, and
So sweet with the children.”
“Yes, I daresay,” said Janet dreamily. “Is he much
changed?"


WELCOME BACK.
125
in, that he will not hold any intercourse with us—he
wrote in a dreadful strain.
I was greatly distressed at
the time, but I am sure his wife egged him on-she,
poor woman, liked her sister-in-law to be Mrs. Palliser
of Mervyn Hall—and now both look on me as a dis-
reputable individual; but really, there never was any
sympathy between Tom and myself, and my father has
seen very little of him of late years, so we can afford to
wait till he is in a better frame of mind.”
As she finished her sentence Captain Rowley came
into the room, and a cordial exchange of greetings en-
sued. Mrs. Bent observed with pleasure that the care-
worn look had gone out of the honest old face, the
strained expression from his shrewd, steely-blue eyes.
“Well, and how do you think Janet is looking?"
was his next question after enquiring for Mrs. Bent's
family.
“Remarkably well!-better, I think, than I have
seen her look for years."
“By George! you are right-she is another creature.
But we have had a fine time of it abroad—we rambled
about all sorts of queer places-Janet was a capital
pilot. We had a very pleasant time at Florence, for
Janet met some uncommon nice friends there-Lord
and Lady Darrell—who coaxed us to stay on, they
didn't like to let Jeanie go."
Janet listened with an indulgent smile--she well


126
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
knew the old man was eager to show how people of
respectability, nay, of distinction, were glad to keep
friends with his precious daughter.
“I am just unpacking a case I sent home by sea,
with all sorts of odds and ends we picked up on our
travels—come and have a look at them!” he continued,
“I have such a pipe for Bent!”—and he carried them
both off to a little inner hall, where he was busily un-
packing his treasures.


AFTER THE STORM.
127
CHAPTER VIII.
AFTER
THE STORM.
BRAVE as she was, Janet was glad when the first
week after their return was over.
Things had gone more smoothly than she had ex-
pected. The little cosy dinner at the Bents', where the
only guests beside themselves were a popular and highly
esteemed local physician and his wife—had been very
pleasant. She quickly perceived, by Mr. Bent's cordial,
genial manner, that both she and her father were really
welcome, and the slight nervousness which fluttered her
on entering soon passed away.
Captain Rowley too was gratified by the reception
given him by his acquaintances and cronies at the club,
and elsewhere. The old man was much liked and re-
spected, and many pitied him for having so eccentric
and unaccountable a daughter. The talk and scandal
created by her determined breaking away from Palliser
had subsided, and it was now many months since the
society papers had had any paragraphs respecting "the
late curious and dramatic incident in fashionable life,”
but the return of the chief personage to the little bath-


AFTER THE STORM.
129
warm May were upon them, when early one day, as
Janet in a very simple morning gown was busy in the
drawing-room with duster and plumeau, the door was
suddenly opened by her father.
“Here's an old friend you will be glad to see!” he
exclaimed joyously. "Here is Maurice Winyard," and
that gentleman followed him immediately.
“I am indeed glad to see you!” said Janet with
quiet cordiality, as she put down her brush and duster,
and drew off the gloves with which her hands were
protected previous to giving him one.
“Thank you! It is very nice to meet again," he
returned with a certain hesitation, the outcome of a
curious sense of embarrassment, which annoyed him
though he could not resist it.
She was so much more like her own self, than the
"great lady” she seemed in her photograph! Her occu-
pation was so natural too, just what he had often found
her doing at Navarino Cottage in her innocent girlish
days. How steadily and kindly her eyes met his. Here
was no consciously erring creature, ready to plead for
pity and forgiveness, rather a self-respecting, self-sustain-
ing woman, with heart and conscienee at rest.
There was a moment's pause, broken by Captain
Rowley. “I was just going down to get a bit more oak
at Stubbs', when I met this fellow, and what do you
think he said? ‘That he feared it was too early to in-
A Choice of Evils. II.
9


1 30
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
trude.' There! there's the refrigerating effect India has
had on him!”
“It would have been rather cool to resume Langford
customs after this lapse of time,” returned Maurice with
a smile—a smile that evoked a throng of sweet, sad
recollections from out the misty background of Janet's
memory, and softened the handsome brown eyes--at
whose tender, appealing glances she was wont to laugh
in bygone days. Certainly Maurice was a good deal
changed, and in some ways improved. He was a fine,
soldierly-looking man, but the bright, affectionate, im-
pulsive boy was gone for ever, some undefined feeling
of disappointment checked Janet's readiness to take up
their old familiar friendship at exactly the same point
at which it had been arrested; but she recognised that
something prevented him from being at his ease and
really glad to see her.
Then his sister's remarks as to his distress at her
(Janet's) position flashed across her mind. “He thinks
me wrong, and mad, or bad," she said to herself, but
she was not vexed with him, rather her quick decision
was “I must convince and convert him."
“I hope you will always be the Maurice Winyard
of Langford to us,” she said softly. “Mary did not
expect you quite so soon, did she?”
“No, I have been in London for some time, and got
my business finished sooner than I expected. I am not


AFTER THE STORM.
131
fond of Town, so ran down here last night. The -th
Regiment is quartered here now, and I have one or two
friends among the officers, then, as you know, I have
always been great chums with Mary.”
“Yes! I remember. Ah! what a faithful friend
she is!”
“She is indeed! I am a good deal fascinated with
her jolly little children. They are very amusing."
The conversation turned on the Bent household, on
the health of the Vicar and Mrs. Winyard, the marriages
of the younger daughters, and similar topics of the mo-
ment, but the past was instinctively avoided by all
three.
At last Captain Rowley looked at his watch.
“I must try and catch Stubbs before he goes to his
dinner,” he said, rising, "so, Maurice, you'll excuse me.
I hope we'll see a good deal of you while you are here.
I want to have all particulars about the affair which
gave you your step."
“So do I,” put in Janet. “I assure you we Lang-
-fordians were very proud when the news reached us.”
“It was an unusual piece of luck to get such a
chance so early in one's career! If you will allow me,
Captain Rowley, I will go with you. I want to go into
the town myself.”
"All right. I am glad of your company. You re-
member I was rather fond of hammer and nails long
9*


132
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
ago! Well, I do a good bit of carpentering now, I
must show you my workshop another time. I've brought
a lot of new ideas back from foreign parts with me.
Come along. Janet, go and fix an early day with Mrs.
Bent, when they will dine here. It warms my heart to
see this boy back again among us.”
Winyard rose, shook hands with his old flame, ob-
serving, still with a slightly constrained air, “My mother
will be very glad to hear you are looking so well,” and
followed Captain Rowley out of the room.
Janet stood still where she had shaken hands with
Maurice, slowly drawing on her gloves again. “He
thinks very badly of me, I am sure he does,” she
thought, “and I imagined that, knowing me as he did,
from childhood, he could never have doubted that any-
thing short of a deep-rooted unanswerable reason would
have induced me to leave
my
husband. What motive
can he possibly attribute to me? I shall never know,
for I can never broach the subject to him and he—I
wonder if I could interest him enough to begin it? I
am disappointed. I expected Maurice would have been
ready to champion me with or without reason! He has
certainly developed out of the “all for love' stage, I
suppose it is only natural, but I don't like him to think
badly of me. I wish he were a friend like-Mary.”
She smiled a little sadly, and resumed her dusting,
which she performed carefully and deliberately, and


AFTER THE STORM.
133
then proceeded to change her dress for luncheon, and
sat down to write in her father's little den, which he
gladly shared with her. Nor was she less gently cheer-
ful than usual, though her tranquillity was certainly dis-
turbed by this first personal contact with unbelief-un-
belief in her rectitude.
As to Maurice, he had long ago thrown off the early
passion for his playfellow, which had been the joy and
torment of boyish life for at least a couple of years, but
nothing had as yet quite replaced it. He had admired
many belles, married and unmarried, in a slight and
passing way, and their easy acceptance of his attentions
had helped to make his play hours go pleasantly, but
as he said, luck had soon given him a splendid chance
and whetted his ambition, which had already acquired
a sharp edge, while his growing devotion to his work
reduced all else to comparative insignificance. Still a
certain halo of tender recollection encircled the image
of Janet. When he thought of her, as he did some-
times, it was with honest, kindly regard. The notices
of her dinners and receptions which occasionally struck
his eye in Society papers, had a certain interest for him,
though the idea that she was rather worldly by nature
had fastened itself in his mind, there was yet sufficient
feeling for her left in his heart, to make him sorely
vexed and disgusted when the news of her extraordinary
conduct reached him. One and only one solution of


134
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
woman.
а.
the riddle suggested itself to his mind-she had at-
tached herself to some other man, and so took advan-
tage of Palliser's misfortunes to shake him off and wed
some favoured lover when sufficient time had elapsed
to shroud Mrs. Grundy's keen eyes, and throw scandal
off the scent.
But to-day, when he had parted with Captain Rowley
and went for a solitary stroll round the ramparts of
Kingsport, he found himself less convinced than before
that Janet was a self-indulgent and rather unprincipled
What fine, steady, truthful eyes she had!-
how sweet and frank her smile was! There was
finished, easy composure in her manner which bespoke
large social experience of a high class and yet did not
destroy a certain transparent naturalness—her voice,
too, was softer and more carefully modulated, but, had
he been blindfolded, Winyard would have recognised it
anywhere. Yes, he was sternly disposed to condemn
her. Nevertheless, her image haunted him, her voice
sounded in his ear—in his heart, and he was furious
with himself for a decided longing to go back to the
Bungalow and hear it again-hear it all the afternoon
if possible.
“But I am not a moonstruck boy now," he thought,
“there's enough in my life, present and future, to keep
morbid fancies at bay. The best cure of all is a nice
healthy, pleasant-tempered wife - an ordinary good


AFTER THE STORM.
135
woman content to abide by the rules and laws which
Society instituted for its own protection-and more dis-
posed to stay with her husband than to run away from
him.”
As he came to this conclusion he reached an angle
of the fortifications round which a group of young
people came towards him, laughing and talking gaily.
Winyard smiled as his eyes fell upon them, for the
meeting seemed a curiously pertinent answer to his re-
flections.
A neatly-dressed and rather rigid elderly young lady,
with a kind, anxious face, held a small boy in a sailor
suit by the hand; at her other side was a slight young
girl of middle height, scarcely advanced beyond the
school-girl stage, with a bright, simple face, and a fresh
soft pink and white complexion; she was talking eagerly
to her companion, through whose arm she had passed
her own, while a boy of twelve or thirteen was pretend-
ing to whip his sister—as she seemed to be—with the
long thick plait of pale brown hair that hung down
her back.
Winyard raised his hat and the group came to a
halt, the young lady's countenance becoming suffused
with blushes.
“Do let go, Freddy,” she murmured in an imploring
tone--and Freddy desisted—but the ribbon which tied
the plait came off in his hand.


136
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
“Good morning, Miss Grant," said Maurice with a
kindly smile. “I see you are in the hands of the Phi-
listines, or rather a Philistine-brothers are evidently of
the same type all the world over!”
“Oh! I am sure you were never so bad as Freddy,”
she returned with a glance, half entreaty, half anger, at
the culprit, who was swinging the ribbon to and fro as
if to provoke a kitten to play.
“Give that bow to your sister directly, Frederick,"
said the elderly young lady in a severe tone. Freddy
only grinned and made an attempt to run away, but
Winyard caught him with a strong hand.
“Come, young gentleman-give up your sister's
property!” he exclaimed, and forced open the small,
close-shut fist, handing the ribbon to its rightful owner,
who proceeded to tie up her “bonnie brown hair."
“That's not fair,” cried the youngster, "you should
hit your match."
“You have forfeited the rules of honour by your
unchivalrous conduct to a lady.”
“A lady, indeed!-- why, she is only a bit of a school-
girl,” sneered the disrespectful Freddy.
“You needn't say that, when I am going to the
Government House ball next month, and will be eigh-
teen my next birthday."
“Such a young scapegrace ought to be put in
irons," said Winyard; "going towards home? May I


AFTER THE STORM.
137
escort you so far?” looking to the lady who was evi-
dently the governess.
She bowed, and her eldest charge said demurely,
“If you please”—and they proceeded together to where
a steep footway led from the wall to the level of the
street beneath, during which time Miss Grant prattled
of her tiresome brother, who had disappeared, of her
expectation of ball-room joys, of a new pony her father
was going to give her—the flow of her small talk
interrupted every now and then by fits of shy silence
when she became self-conscious—feared she was talking
too much, and felt a little overcome, half by fear, and
half by admiration for her companion, whom she had
met two or three times at dinner in her father's house.
She was the daughter of Colonel Grant, who com-
manded a Scotch regiment then quartered in Kingsport;
Winyard had known him in India, but his family had
already returned to England.
When Winyard had left his young friend at her own
door, he went on his way at a brisk pace, fearing to be
late for his sister's luncheon.
"Eighteen!” he said to himself, "she doesn't look
like it. Why, when Janet Rowley was eighteen she had
twisted up her hair, and read me lectures on the ne-
cessities of diligence and ambition, and Heaven knows
what-she used to give herself no end of airs, well, no
—not exactly airs; she never was affected, and she


138
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
never had a soft wild rose colour like that child,
but -" He paused in thought to look at a picture
that came back to him of an incident in a blackberry-
ing expedition, when he had climbed a steep bank to
gather some extra fine bunches, and Janet standing
below, her apron held out to catch what he threw into
it—her face upturned, and alight wtth pleasure at the
treasure-trove they had fallen upon, her fair graceful
throat displayed, her cheeks warmed with more than
usual colour, her hat fallen back, and her fair red-brown
hair all disordered. It was at that moment Maurice
knew that childish things had passed away from him
for ever, and that he loved his playfellow with some-
thing of a man's passion.
“But she liked her own way, and by Jove! she al-
ways had it," he thought; "she was no soft, playful,
caressing kitten, perhaps unfortunately for herself. A
creature like Grant's daughter would probably make a
fellow far happier than so decided a character as Janet
Rowley! Good God! to think she is Janet Rowley
again!”
*
*
*
*
*
It was some days before Maurice saw his old play-
fellow again; he resisted the strong inclination-partly
curiosity, partly reluctant longing to hear her voice-
which drew him towards The Bungalow, and he had
many engagements--for besides the reputation of a ris-


AFTER THE STORM.
139
ing man, he was popular with most of those who
knew him.
Janet was more hurt than she liked to allow, even
to herself, by this neglect.
She fully expected that—although at first Maurice
might disapprove of her conduct-personal contact
would revive the strong sympathy that once existed
between them; that Maurice should judge her harshly
seemed impossible. She told herself again and again
that it was really of no consequence to her what he
thought; he had passed out of her life and could never
again enter it.
Mr. and Mrs. Bent had dined at The Bungalow,
and the partie carrée had spent a very happy evening
together, but Maurice had gone on a picnic-party, or-
ganised by Mrs. Grant and one or two other ladies,
from which he could not escape in time—indeed, the
excursion was wound up by an improptu dance at the
Colonel's house.
Ultimately, Janet went to call on Mrs. Bent one
warm afternoon as she returned from some necessary
shopping in Kingsport, hoping to find rest and a cup of
tea at the Laurels (the Bents' abode), which was a sort
of half-way house.
The mistress was out, however, and as Janet turned
away, she met Winyard, who was coming from the
beach.


140
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
2
“I am sorry my sister is out!” he exclaimed. “Will
you not come in and rest?”
“Thank you, no—I shall do my resting at home as
I cannot see Mary,” and Janet smiled what she meant
to be good-bye to him, but he kept by her side.
“It is an awfully hot bit of road,” he said. “Let
us come down on the common, there's a slight breeze
there."
“That is one of the attractions of Beachurst,” said
Janet. “It is always fresh.”
Talking of the most ordinary subjects with a certain
degree of constraint on Winyard's side, they reached
the Bungalow.
“Come in and have a cup of tea with me," said
Janet, raising her eyes to his with a laughing look that
transported him back to Langford and Mervyn Woods.
She was in truth a little amused at his palpable
uneasiness, as she thought how little time and new ex-
perience had made him a man of the world.
The colour came to his embrowned cheek, and a
resentful doubt crossed his mind: "Is she laughing at
me as a prig?” He only said “Thank you,” and followed
her into the house. The sun was off the back of the
house, and the pretty, pleasant drawing-room was cool,
its windows wide open on the verandah which over-
hung the garden, and commanded the nearly land-
locked bay.


AFTER THE STORM.
141
"I am
“This is a delightful room,” said Maurice, going to
the window. “You have about the best view in the
place."
“Yes, I am very fond of our little home. My father,
too, is happy here; he makes so much occupation for
himself.”
She removed her hat, and smoothed back her hair
as she spoke, without glancing at the glass, just in her
old careless
way,
and
rang
for tea.
afraid
my
father is not at home, but he
generally comes in for tea.”
Here Mrs. Brown brought in the tea equipage, which
Janet ordered to be put in the verandah, where they
could enjoy the fresh, soft air which came up with the
rising tide.
“Did you come home through Italy?” she asked.
“Yes, but I came as fast as I could, not stopping
anywhere. After being more than six years out of
England, I could not get home fast enough.”
“Yes, I can imagine that, but it is very charming to
travel in Italy! I had done all the regular sight-seeing
before, so last summer my father and I wandered about
the little remote villages and castles of the Maritime
Alps, sometimes faring very indifferently, but we enjoyed
it immensely, and living is so marvellously cheap in
these out-of-the-way places—a consideration not to be
despised, you know!”


142
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
"Certainly not. Was it quite safe to venture so far
away from police and civilisation?”
“There is no brigandage in the north of Italy, and
many of the places we loitered in were under French
government; besides, we had not the air of being rich.
I should like to have spent another summer there, but
the dear dad was, I could see, wearying for home.”
There was a pause.
Winyard was conscious of a
delicious sense of harmony, of soothing content, of vague
sweetness that seemed to melt away his bristling, half-
indignant disapprobation. Janet held out her hand for
his cup--what a white, slender hand!-and with the
left she lifted the “cosy” from the tea-pot; on neither
was there a ring, and certainly the plain gold wedding
circlet was absent.
“Had she taken it off, and thrown away that badge
of legitimate marriage? This was having the courage of
her opinions with a vengeance!” mused Maurice, as he
stirred his tea. How tranquil she seemed, how refined
and high-bred. Then her large, steady eyes looked
through him, though they had a soft, pensive sadness.
“I must start in good time on my way back, and
have a look at the chief places in Italy if I can," he said.
“Yes, you ought. Italy has a great charm for me.
Do you remember how I used to rave about it, long
ago, and bore you with my castles in the air about
going there some day?”


AFTER THE STORM.
143
“And you have had your wish, Mrs.
He stopped abruptly; the word Palliser had nearly
passed his lips.
“Mrs. Rowley." She supplied the name quietly.
“I understand that it must be awkward to call me so
at first; I felt it very much myself; if you don't like it,
which is quite natural, call me Janet—as you used.”
“I scarcely like to take so great a liberty, but I
cannot call you anything else!” exclaimed Maurice, with
something of his old impulsiveness.
“I can see that you are pained by—by the peculiar
position in which I have placed myself,” said Janet in
a low, but perfectly composed tone. "It is all too new
to be discussed, yet, believe me, my mind is at rest. I
know I have done what is best, not only for myself, but
for him.”
"For him-impossible!” cried Maurice. “I have
the deepest compassion for your unfortunate-husband.
What must his feelings be?”
“I think I know, Maurice. He has been very sore,
but Time, the healer, is fast soothing his bitterness.
Let us speak of this strange history no more except for
one question: Maurice, we have known each other, and
understood each other, so far as Nature can permit boy
and girl to understand each other, do you--can you
believe I would have taken such a step if—if death
itself had not been preferable to living with him?"


AFTER THE STORM.
145
>>
ideas; as it was, he was offended that she did not seem
to think it worth while to spend more words on the
subject.
“I had a year's leave, and I have been home more
than two months. I shall return about the end of
March next.”
“Earlier if you intend to do Italy en route?”
“I suppose so! I should like to see what I could,
for I hope not to ask for leave again for years."
“Naturally! your career binds you to India—it is a
fine field.”
Here Captain Rowley hailed them from the garden.
"Maurice there? All right! Hope you haven't drunk
up all the tea.”
He ascended the steps which led to the verandah,
and greeting his guest warmly, sat down to enjoy his
afternoon cup, and then carried Winyard away with
him, to see his last efforts in cabinet making.
A Choice of Evils. It.
IO


146
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
CHAPTER IX.
STARTLING NEWS.
It was rather a wet June that year,
and consequently
the “upper ten” of Beachurst were not in a hurry to
quit their comfortable abodes, but after the Government
House ball, a spell of exceedingly fine warm weather
set in, and a demand for furnished houses suddenly
arose, as the holidays approached.
Everyone therefore hastened to make hay while the
sun shone, and with surprising rapidity Beachurst was
left in the hands of the invading host of visitors. Mrs.
Bent and the children went to pay their annual summer
visit to the Vicarage, and Maurice went to see some
friends in Wales.
The semi-confidential talk recorded in the last
chapter, was the last of the kind he had with Janet,
but his visit was frequently repeated. He was always
kindly but very calmly received, and conversation flowed
easily between him and the object of his boyish affec-
tion. In fact, he was conscious that he never talked so
well as to Janet-she was a most sympathetic listener,
and caught even half-expressed ideas with swift com-


STARTLING NEWS.
147
prehension. Then there was such simplicity and reality
in all she said and did, such an air of pleasant refined
homeliness in her surroundings, that Winyard soon grew
restless and dissatisfied everywhere, save in her com-
fortable drawing-room. Already he began to wonder
what enormity a man of Palliser's high character and
unblemished reputation could have committed, unknown
to the world, to induce a delicate, infinitely modest
creature like Janet Rowley to accept the position of an
unmarried woman, after having lived as a wife for four
or five years, to leave a brilliant circle and a luxurious
home, for the narrow limits of her father's cottage.
Maurice Winyard was a keen observer of outer
things, though inner-life was something of a sealed
book to him, and he perceived how strict, though not
penurious, was the economy practised in the Bungalow.
For some weeks he had silently watched for the
appearance of that lover, whose existence he thought
could alone solve the mystery of Janet's conduct, but
he watched in vain. Gradually, in his many gossips
with father and daughter, he seemed to have heard of
all the people, men and women, whom they had ever
met, and slowly, without any attempt on his own part
to banish the belief, he found it fading from his mind.
Janet seemed so thoroughly content, so completely
at home; she, in some ways, was so like the old Janet
who shelled peas in the kitchen—was it centuries ago?
IO*


148
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
—and in others how different! The old impulsive girl
who could not keep back the quick coming words ex-
pressive of what she felt or fancied, was gone away
into the irrevocable past, and in her place was a charm-
ing cultivated woman, frank and sincere in speech, but
quite capable of saying only so much, and not a syllable
more, than she intended.
Winyard did not stay very long in Wales. He
found himself obliged to go to London, and when there
he thought he might as well run down to Beachurst,
and see the launch of an ironclad, which had been built
in the Kingsport Dockyard.
Janet found rather to her surprise that she missed
Maurice. His familiar presence seemed to restore some-
thing of her former girlishness and power of enjoyment.
He was utterly unconnected with the painful passages
of her life, and it pleased her to watch the gradual
return of his old confidential tone, and the evident sub-
sidence of his suspicious disapprobation. She was care-
ful never to invite him to the house.
Her father was
ready enough to do that in his anxiety to provide some
cheerful society for his daughter, and Maurice was
equally ready to accept the invitations. He was not
what could be called an intellectual man, but he took
clear common sense views of life, and things in general,
and was Conservative by nature, so that between him
and his old playfellow, there was a frequent friction of


STARTLING NEWS,
149
opinion which gave zest to their intercourse. But Janet
little knew that she was a constant source of conflict in
his mind.
To him she was still Palliser's wife, and as such
altogether forbidden fruit. Yet he could not conceal
from himself that his former passion for her was taking
possession of him, more forcibly and overpoweringly
than of old, and yet a feeling of distrust which he could
not conquer tormented him.
Had Janet sought his absolution, or seemed touched
by his disapprobation, his resistance would soon have
been over; but she was so frank, so unembarrassed, so
perfectly friendly and self-possessed, that she perpetually
“riled” him.
Perhaps Janet perceived this-she was a close observer,
and therefore Maurice Winyard was often in her thoughts.
A day or two before he returned to Beachurst Janet
was a little surprised to find a letter from Lady Darrell
on the breakfast-table.
That lady had kept up a correspondence with her
favourite since they had parted in Florence, though
their letters were not frequent. Now it was only five or
six days since Janet had had a long epistle from her
ladyship, dated from Woodlands where she usually spent
the summer and early autumn, and she had not yet
replied to it.
Another so soon was therefore rather
startling, and she opened it quickly.


154
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
nerves, she felt she could rest and be thankful with a
clear conscience, so she thanked God, and took courage.
The day Maurice Winyard travelled down from
London to Beachurst, he had but one companion in
his carriage, an officer in a regiment quartered in
Kingsport with whom he had a slight acquaintance.
Both were provided with newspapers, and while
Maurice read the Times, the other man, being lighter-
minded, skimmed a well-known Society paper.
“By Jove!” he exclaimed presently, "here's an an-
nouncement that Palliser is going to marry the Honour-
able Miss de Courcy! Why, the fellow is a regular
Bluebeard, only his two former wives are alive, though
he has managed to get rid of them! This girl will
have a lot of money, and is uncommonly pretty, to say
nothing of coming of a first-rate family.”
“May I look at the paper?” asked Maurice, greatly
interested, and he pondered for a minute or two over
the brief paragraph:
“We are authorised to state that a marriage has
been arranged between Mr. R. Palliser, MP., of Mervyn
Hall, and the Honourable Hildegarde de Courcy, only
child of Baron de Courcy, of Delamere Castle, who
is one of this season's fairest débutantes. The marriage
will be solemnised early in the autumn, much to the
satisfaction of a large circle of friends who have warmly


STARTLING NEWS.
155
sympathised in the undeserved trials of an honourable
and justly popular gentleman.”
“He is deuced lucky," continued the owner of the
paper. “Why, it was only this time last year that
every one was speculating whether he was the biggest
blackguard or the most unfortunate devil going; you
remember it?-first, the divorce case, and then, about
the interim wife that wouldn't go back to him—it was
altogether the most extraordinary case.”
“I was in India when the affair was being talked
about, and these things do not interest me much," said
Maurice, handing back the paper.
“This was quite out of the common! I have been
told the second Mrs. Palliser, or whatever she is called
now, is living at Beachurst. She must keep very close;
when we heard she was in our neighbourhood (that is,
when we first came to Kingsport in May last), most of
us tried to get a glimpse of her, but we never suc-
ceeded.”
"I know the lady," said Maurice shortly; "she is
an old friend of my family, and though we are all an-
noyed at what she has done, I must say she is a
woman of the most unblemished reputation and high
character.”
“Oh, no doubt--no doubt! That makes it all the


156
A CHOICE OF EVILS,
soon
as
more extraordinary, for I believe that Palliser was a
very nice fellow, and a great favourite with women.”
Having said so much, he let the subject drop,
though he exercised his mind a good deal as to the
possible relations existing between Winyard and the
very extraordinary woman about whom so many con-
tradictory reports had circulated, who had forsaken a
handsome, charming husband, a luxurious home, a fine
position, to dwell in straitened circumstances with an
old half-pay father in a dull sea-side village.
Winyard gladly assisted to turn the conversation to
other topics, and as
a decent opportunity
offered, gladly took shelter behind his paper and
silence.
The news disturbed him considerably; he did not
quite believe it, but, granting the report was false, that
it was current, showed Society was quite willing to ac-
cept Palliser as an unmarried man, and consequently
Janet as an unmarried woman. Of course they had
not been legally united; nevertheless, this repudiation
of the old bonds seemed a terrible blow to the sanctity
of marriage, and that a woman should be the first to
deal it seemed to him extra shameful. Again, suppose
this was a mere report, the probability that Palliser
might, could, would, or should espouse another might
revive Janet's affection for him by the counter-irritation
of jealousy, and induce her to make advances which


158
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
ness.
many encomiums on that gentleman, who had lent her
a horse when they went on that riding party to see the
remains of a Roman villa which were lately discovered
near a village some ten miles at the other side of
Kingsport. But Maurice was not amused; he thought
he perceived a tinge of commonness about the pretty
little ingénue, in her voice, her style, her self-conscious-
He knew that involuntarily he was contrasting
her with Janet, and he felt it was unfair. At all events,
whatever might be the latter's superiority in charm and
distinction, Amy Grant would not have broken away
from her husband at the first opportunity because of
some crumpled rose leaf.
Maurice left early, and passed a restless night,
haunted by doubts, and pining for the power to put
full faith in his old sweetheart, in whose presence he
was never quite happy, but whose absence was a blank
indeed.
A vague uneasiness and fear of what he might dis-
cover held him back next day from calling at The
Bungalow till after the usual luncheon hour.
The moment the front door opened to him, he was
somewhat surprised to perceive the odour of a fine
cigar, certainly not of the tobacco usually smoked in a
pipe by Captain Rowley.
The servant knowing Maurice well, at once ad-


STARTLING NEWS.
159
mitted him, and opening the dining-room door, said
audibly:
“Here's Captain Winyard, sir."
"Hollo, Maurice! come along in, my boy!” cried
Captain Rowley's hearty tones. "I thought you were
in Wales," he added, as Maurice obeyed his summons.
They were still sitting over the luncheon-table, which
was prettily set out. Janet sat facing the door, she
was looking very bright, and was charmingly dressed in
soft thin woollen stuff of a delicate grey, and had a
few dark red roses in her waist band, but on her right
was a strange man who, as well as Captain Rowley,
was smoking. A stout, short-necked man, with large
black moustaches and a blue-black beard, close shaved,
but showing through the skin. His hair too was black
and curly, but on the very top of his head was “a
bright and shining place.” The eyes of this objection-
able stranger were very dark, small, keen, twinkling,
and conveyed the idea that nothing could escape them.
“How do you do, Maurice?” said Janet, stretching
out her hand to him. “When did you return?”
Winyard's heart beat fast-for he thought he caught
a look of pleasure in her speaking eyes, and heard a
sound of welcome in her voice.
“I came down yesterday.”
“Have you lunched?” asked the host.
“Yes, thanks.”


160
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
C
"Captain Winyard, Mr. Valentine,” resumed Janet,
with a slight gesture of her hand towards the stranger.
The men bowed.
“Will you have some lemon squash, Maurice? It
is so very warm to-day," she asked.
Maurice accepted and sat down opposite the stranger,
who gave him a quick, enquiring glance.
“As I was saying,” said the latter, as if in con-
tinuation of an interrupted speech—"the remains of the
villa are very remarkable, and splendid material for
copy. They have never been really well done yet. No
doubt they were accurately described and learnedly
commented on in the 'What's-its-name, you know, the
antiquarian journal, but for the ordinary reader, the
subject wants a lighter, more picturesque touch. Facts
are all very well, but they are dry bones, and must be
clothed with fancy or imagination. You understand
what I mean?” to Janet.
“I think I do,” she answered, her colour rising a
little and then fading away. “Still, it needs a good
deal of historical knowledge-knowledge not easily at-
tained by the ordinary writer.”
“My dear lady! The 'What's-its-name' has gener-
ously supplied all that. The date, the Roman General
commanding this district at the period, the taxes paid,
the exports and imports of this identical port. Every
particular is set forth abundantly, everyone can get his


STARTLING NEWS.
161
or her materials, and the information is accurate! I
know the man who did it-old Digworth. He is al-
ways grubbing up foundations at the British Museum,
for other men to build flourishing edifices upon.”
His voice was rather thick, as if he spoke through
a muffling of mashed potatoes, though his tone was
pleasant and well bred.
“But, Mr. Valentine, is it quite fair to use his
labours?"
“Everything is fair, Mrs. Rowley, in love, war, and
journalism. You don't steal the man's ideas-he hasn't
any. He reads books which you can read too if you
like—all you do is take the facts from his pages in-
stead of from the originals. There is no use in putting
too fine a point upon things.”
“We must have a look at this new discovery while
the days are still long enough for excursions,” said
Janet, in a slightly embarrassed way.
“Ay, do! and soon. There's a decentish little inn
close by, where they can give you a tolerable chop,
and a fair roast chicken, cream, fresh eggs, and such
countrified comforts. The place is worth studying by
sunrise, sunset, noonday. Then there's an old oak
wood for a background, and a road evidently Roman
to that place, Torchester, where they had a camp-
it's about an hour and a half's drive--quite a pleasant
outing
A Choice of Evils. II.
22
II


162
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
"I am sure it is,” said Janet, then, turning to
Winyard, she asked, “Have you been at Langford since
I saw you?"
“Yes, I stayed a few days at the Vicarage on my
way up to town—they are all well, and Mary's babies
most flourishing; they ride the old pony now," he added,
with a long wistful look into her eyes. “He isn't fit
for much more than such light weights. Do you re-
member the day you tried to stand on his bare back
and got such a spill?"
“I do, indeed!—and my father scolded you for let-
ting me do anything so wild!”
“Ah!” cried Mr. Valentine, “boy and girl re-
miniscences?—nothing like them for a sort of pungent
sweetness! Tell me, have you seen Lady Darrell since
we parted at Florence?"
“No," returned Janet,” “but I hear from her often;
she is at her son's place and expects him next month
--he has been cruising in and about the Norwegian
fiords."
"Lady Darrell is, I think, one of the cleverest all-
round women I know," said Mr. Valentine, with the air
of stamping the hall-mark of true metal upon her; “you
remember our pleasant evenings in Florence, when we
used to argue about the Renaissance history—what a
lot she knew a lot of facts which she never paraded,


STARTLING NEWS.
163
but just let out à propos to this or that. She must have
done a heap of good solid reading in her time."
“Yes, the more you talk with Lady Darrell, the
more you see what a remarkable woman she is under
her unpretending exterior. But—will you not come
and finish your cigars on the verandah-it will be
cooler?”
“A good idea," said Valentine, rising—and the three
gentlemen followed their hostess.
“You have an uncommonly pretty look-out here,"
remarked Valentine, drawing a seat to the railing and
gazing over the land-locked bay; "it's a sweet spot this
-yet you shouldn't shut yourself up altogether. It's all
very well for a few summer months, but London is the
place for you, Mrs. Rowley."
“Who can he be?” asked Maurice of himself. “He
is a self-sufficient cad—well, no—not exactly a cad--
but I can't make him out. What business has he to
talk to Janet so freely?- knew her abroad!-how
deucedly intimate people get abroad!” It irritated him
to hear this cool, presumptive stranger calling Janet
“Mrs. Rowley” at every second sentence as if it were
not a painful reminder.
“Yes," Valentine was saying, "it's a pleasure I don't
care for, you see - to parody Byron a bit, I'm a
luxurious slave whose soul will sicken o'er the heaving
wave,' so I avoid yachting. Darrell is particularly fond
II


164
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
of it. The fellow is as hard as nails--can stand any
amount of roughing and fatigue; I come from their part
of the world, and hear a good deal about Lord Darrell.
He is very much liked, but I am a little disappointed
in him—I believe there's more under his brain-pan than
people think. The misfortune is that he was a peer
before he came of age.
What chance has a man who
is relegated at twenty-one to the national dormitory?-
someone ought to bring in an act forbidding peers to
be eligible for the House of Commons until they are
five-and-forty! If Darrell was an M.P. he would not be
cruising about the world and wasting his time.”
“I'm told he is his own skipper, and handles his
vessel uncommonly well—I fancy he ought to have
gone into the Navy," said Captain Rowley, accepting
another cigar from his guest.
“Navy, no—we want such men in Parliament badly.
He is of no use in the House of Lords,” and the
stranger rattled on about politics, “foreign relations,"
“colonial interests,” with the dictatorial force of a dozen
“leaders”—at last he looked at his watch.
"Three-thirty, by Jove!” he cried. "How agreeable
society makes one forget that time goes on relentlessly!
I must be going! Captain Rowley, may I ask you for
pen, ink and paper ?--I want to write a few lines.”
“By all means, come to my den.”
“Who is this universally-informed gentleman?" asked


STARTLING NEWS.
165
Maurice, as soon as he was alone with Janet. She had
been, like himself, extremely silent–indeed, it was not
easy to put in a word.
Janet smiled.
“A great man in his way, I assure you! He
editor of The Minerva Magazine-we met him last year
in Florence. He is an old friend of the Darrells—a
protégé of the late Lord's. He has been very friendly
with us, and called this morning quite unexpectedly.
He has been taking a holiday, and rambling about, he
has come
across the Roman Villa, and seems quite
fascinated, with it."
“He seems to be uncommonly at home,” remarked
Maurice drily.
“Oh, he would be at home with all the potentates
of the earth,” said Janet laughing.
Maurice was silent, and Janet seemed lost in
thought.
“I have been very anxious to see you," resumed
Maurice with some hesitation.
“Have you?”—in a surprised tone—“we have been
quite well."
“I hope so—I feared-_” he stopped.
Janet looked wonderingly at him, then the colour
rose softly in her cheek and the expression in her eyes
changed.
“I believe I understand,” she said in a low voice,


166
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
"you fear the report of Mr. Palliser's approaching mar-
riage has shaken my nerves.”
Maurice bent his head.
“Thank you, old friend, for your sympathy," she
'continued; "these tidings have not surprised me. I
always anticipated such an event, and it is in some
ways a relief to my mind, for I see I have done him
no harm.”
Maurice could hardly believe his ears.
“I am amazed that any woman would accept him,"
he blurted out.
“I am not,” she returned thoughtfully. “Mr. Pal-
liser can be very charming, and may continue charm-
ing to this new object of his affection, and she will
probably be better suited to him than-2” she stopped
abruptly.
“If he did not love you, whom could he love?" ex-
claimed Maurice, not the least as a compliment, but out
of the honest conviction of his heart; “besides, the
reason I wondered any woman would accept Palliser
was because he does not seem to me unmarried.”
“Others will not agree with you there,” said Janet
gently; "he is perfectly free.”
“Then so are you!" replied Maurice, but he did
not say it joyously.
“That is as I feel!—and I am not without a certain
sentiment respecting my own position. Time works


STARTLING NEWS.
167
great changes, but after so ghastly a failure as I have
made, I want no freedom at present.”
“You are not a bit like other women!” cried Mau-
rice, half in admiration, half in dismay.
“Because I have been a most unhappy one.”
“Janet,” my dear,” said Captain Rowley, coming in
hastily, “Valentine wants you for a few minutes, he is
just going.”
Janet rose at once and obeyed the summons.
"Clever chap that,” cried her father, rubbing his
hands.
“He thinks so at any rate," said Maurice.
“Ay, my boy, but he is. He's been monstrous kind
to Janet. I'll tell you a great secret—'never let it out
even to your sister! My Jeanie has written little sketches
of our wanderings, and Valentine has put them in The
Minerva--ay, and paid for them! What
What do you think
of that, my boy?-I'll give you a read of them some
day”-lowering his voice—“but, mind you, mum's the
word!”
Totally unaccustomed to literary people and literary
work, Maurice Winyard looked on those persons whose
words were printed as a separate but rather doubtful
caste, except indeed, those giants whose high renown
elevates them over all considerations of rank and social
law. That Janet should be admitted even to the lowest


RETROSPECTIVE.
169
CHAPTER X.
RETROSPECTIVE.
CAPTAIN ROWLEY was right in saying that Mr. Valen-
tine had been uncommonly kind to Janet. He had
taken a fancy to her when they met in Lady Darrell's
salon soon after she had recovered from her attack of
bronchitis sufficiently to receive her friends; and Janet
had begun to feel more herself after breaking away
from the fetters of her former life.
They had rambled about Florence together, as
Captain Rowley did not care much for pictures, statuary
or old palaces, and a curious sort of friendship grew
up between the rather self-sufficient, largely-experienced
editor, with his highly-trained critical faculty, and the
refined, thoughtful, naturally enthusiastic woman whose
spirit and intelligence was beginning to revive after its
long suppression, from the paralysing effect of constant
indifference and misunderstanding.
Nothing had drawn her out of herself so much as
these walks and talks with the shrewd philosophic little
sybarite, whose rather self-indulgent bachelor life had
not yet quite stifled his heart. From Lady Darrell he


170
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
had heard her “plain unvarnished tale,” which had in-
terested him profoundly, and when they parted, he had
expressed a hope to meet her again and begged her to
let him know their (her father's and her own) where-
abouts from time to time.
At this outset of her new life, Janet's mind was
much exercised by the question "what shall I do," not
to be saved, but "to make a little money?”
She felt she must be in some degree a burden on
her father's slender resources, and she burned with an
eager desire to earn enough to provide for her own
personal expenditure; she shrank almost morbidly from
asking her father for a penny, yet what was she to do?
She could not play nor sing, save in the simplest, the
most amateur fashion-for teaching she was untrained;
and besides it would worry and annoy her father to
know she attempted anything that would take her out-
side her own home. At last, one evening, inspired by
the beauty of the sunset in a curious little old village
among the Maritime Alps, the peculiarities of which
had greatly interested her, she tried to write a descrip-
tion of it and its people, and the wild rough road which
led to it; this, her first effort, she sent to her literary
friend with much trepidation, fearing he might mock at
her boldness. In due time it was returned to her. At
first she did not venture to open the little parcel, fear-
ing the curt, contemptuous comments which she fancied


172
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
cultivated gift lent a fresh and unexpected pleasure to
life; Valentine not only accepted several of her sketches,
but suggested other vehicles of publication, and Janet
soon perceived how “good a thing it was” to have an
experienced and potent editor for a guide.
As her greatest wish at present was to avoid notice
and pass into oblivion as soon as possible, she was
most careful to guard her incognita, and poor Captain
Rowley had hardly spoken his avowal to Maurice
Winyard before he bitterly regretted it. In vain he
told himself that he was quite safe, that Maurice would
never let out anything he had promised to keep secret,
but he felt that his daughter must read the damning
fact of betrayal as
as she looked in his face.
However, she was far too much taken up with the pro-
posed work offered her by Valentine to notice her
father's countenance.
“I am half afraid of this undertaking,” she said,
when they were alone together that evening, "and I do
not quite like availing myself of that archæological
gentleman's work. I must acknowledge my indebted-
ness to him, in some way."
“Oh! don't you fear, my pet, you'll do it right well;
as to the rest, be guided by Valentine. He is a first-
rate chap."
soon
“We shall see what I can do when I have read that


RETROSPECTIVE.
173
article in The Archeologist. I hope it will not cost very
much to stay at that place?”
“No, no, it shall not—not more than hiring a
carriage two or three days running to drive over there.
Let me see.
I fancy we might go by train to Barrett's
Cross, and I think I heard they had started an omnibus
from the station to the villa, for the summer visitors,
you know.”
“I hope not,” said Janet, “it would make the place
very disagreeable."
“I'll go over there by train myself to-morrow. I
don't think it can be more than three or four miles
from the station, so if necessary I can walk. I'll find
out prices and everything.”
“Dearest dad! you must not tire yourself,” she said
laying her hand fondly on his shoulder.
They were in his den, and she was standing by him
as he sat in his favourite chair writing up what he
termed the “Log,” a diary of each day's doings, which
included the starting and extinguishing of fires, the
state of the weather, the planting of vegetables and
flowers, the setting of hens, and the hatching of broods.
“My pet! I am equal to that and more, I thank
God. I want to live a good while yet, really to live,
you know—my business now is to take care of you,
and do all I can for you, until you are old enough and
strong enough to live alone.”


RETROSPECTIVE.
175
her, and she recognised "Tony," the Bents' dog, with
whom she was great friends.
“Why, Tony! are you playing truant to be here so
far from home?”
Tony barked a reply which sounded exculpatory;
while she spoke to him a figure rose up from beside an
old boat in the shade of which it had been lying, and
came towards her. She recognised Winyard.
“You are out early,” he said, as he took her
proffered hand.
“And so are you; it is not yet half-past nine.”
“I always get up early when I cannot sleep," re-
turned Maurice.
“I suppose your sleep has not come back rightly
yet? Are you feeling quite well again, Maurice?”
“Yes, perfectly! I am getting impatient of idle-
ness, and longing to be back in India and at work
again.”
“Are you tired of us all then?” she asked, as he
fell into step and they walked on together.
“No, I am not given to change, as you must know,
and I am heartily fond of my own people; but I have
been uprooted and planted in another soil, and in that
soil my future, my ambition, my work, must grow. It
is not unnatural that I wish to return to it!”
“Not at all,” she returned with a slight sigh,
man you are right! I think had I been a man, I might
as a


176
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
have been rather ambitious, as a woman I have not a
spark of it.”
“I begin to suspect you have not,” said Winyard
with some significance. “Then what do you think life
worth living for?”
“I am not sure." She was silent for an instant,
then went on, “I am inclined to think life itself is worth
living for – I am afraid I am somewhat low and in-
distinct in my ideas! To me, that which really trans-
forms mere existence into life, is love (I mean affection)
and happiness!”
“Two things rarely found, save in small quantities.”
“Nonsense, Maurice! you have had plenty of both,
all your people loved you heartily! You have had
health, hunting, and success in India, you have a fine
career opening before you—very few men have so much
of this world's goods.”
“It sounds a splendid sum total, but there's a per
contra that I must detail: first, my warmest affection
was nipped in the bud by your cruelty,” said Winyard,
with a pleasant laugh, which was more like the Maurice
of boyish days than any Janet had heard since they had
met last.
“Ah! that did you very little harm," she returned
smiling, "you were no doubt soon consoled.”
“Well, not so very soon; but soldiering was a great


RETROSPECTIVE.
177
distraction, and the impressions of a boy are fleeting-
they do not cut deep down as a man's do!”
“I suppose not! So a man ought to be careful how
he allows himself to be impressed, as he is a reasonable
being," returned Janet rather absently.
“Is a man responsible for such impressions?" asked
Maurice. "The mischief is so often done before the
sufferer is aware - he knows nothing till some vital part
is touched, and then he finds it's all over with him!”
“It is all a mystery which no one can understand how
or account for,” said Janet, “but in this—as in most
things—you men have the best of it! You have so
much work--absorbing work—to do, so much legitimate
ambition, that if a man is fit for man's place in the
world, he cannot have time, nor room in heart or mind,
for much sentimental love."
“And yet if a man is not ready to break his heart
on the smallest provocation, you women call him a
heartless brute!” exclaimed Maurice.
“Men and women are exceedingly unreasonable to-
wards each other. We haven't really much to reproach
each other with!”
Maurice was silent for a minute, and then said:
“You have grown very philosophic, Janet!”
It was rarely he called her by her name, and it
thrilled her with a curious sense of tender regret for
the past--for her own youth.
A Choice of Evils. II,
>>
I 2


178
A CHOICE OF EVILS,
It was so like old times to wander in the woods
with Maurice, she longed to open her heart to him, and
tell him everything. He was almost his old self to-day,
but the fear of some unsympathetic strain in his matured
nature—of which she was vaguely but deeply conscious
-warned her to keep the gates of silence fast locked,
and so defy his power to wound or to humiliate her.
“Formerly you were always ready for the fray, and
eager to dispute all opposing opinions to the bitter end,”
Maurice continued.
“Since then, I have learned the value of peace, and
ceased to desire the conversion of everyone to my own
way of thinking; variety has great charms, especially in
thought,” said Janet, adding, to change the subject, “my
father made an early start this morning!"
“Yes, I saw him as he passed the hotel, and hailed
him from the window. He is off to inspect the recent
find at B-- He looked uncommonly well and fit,”
but Maurice did not mention that the "cute" captain
had carried with him fastened beneath a parcel of
sandwiches which were to be his frugal luncheon, a
number of the famous Minerva Magazine, in which he
had placed a slip of paper to mark Janet's lucubrations,
and gave to Maurice with renewed injunctions as to
secresy. Nor did he say that he had nearly walked to
the station with the old man, and then, yielding to an
irresistible attraction, strolled along the beach where


182
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
“On the twenty-fifth instant, at Paris, Sir Frederic
C. Saville, baronet, of Cranford Grange.”
“This accounts for Gertrude's silence!” exclaimed
Janet, half aloud. “How strange it will seem to have
lost her occupation of nursing and caring for him. I
really think she was growing fond of him again, since
he was so dependent on her. What a strange thing the
heart is!”
She sat lost in thought, recalling all the bits of per-
sonal history which from time to time Lady Saville had
half-unconsciously dropped; she had evidently had a
trying life, but she had had two boys who loved her
dearly.
“I must write to her this afternoon," was Janet's
final decision, as she slowly swallowed her milk, and
rising, went to the drawing-room, where she ended an
idle morning by playing dreamily on the piano, while
she recalled her first meetings with her former sister-
in-law and all that followed.
*
*
*
Some hours later, when the breeze had dropped and
the afternoon sun blazed fiercely on the sea, Janet,
having finished her letter to Lady Saville, settled herself
with a book to await her father, and restore her usual
mental tone, which had been a great deal disturbed by


RETROSPECTIVE.
183
her ramble and reflections. She had hardly succeeded
in fastening her attention on the page before her when
“General” Brown opened the door, and said:
“Here's a gentleman for you, 'em.”
Whereupon Darrell entered, in a yachting get-up,
tanned a deep red brown by wind and sun, looking big
and bony as ever.
Janet was truly glad to see him.
“Lord Darrell! I am delighted to see you,” she
exclaimed cordially, rising and holding out her hand.
“Where have you come from? I thought you were in
Norway.”
“I have just come from Norway, but last from the
yacht; we came to anchor just outside the fort this
morning.”
He looked earnestly, searchingly at her, his good-
humoured face growing serious as he gazed.
“Then I fancy I saw it sailing in, some time near
eleven o'clock?”
“Yes, we rounded the point out there about ten
thirty. And how is Captain Rowley?"
“Remarkably well, but not at home. I expect him
within an hour or so.”
Janet resumed her seat, and Darrell drew a chair
at the other side of her little work-table.
“And you are all right? My mother charged me
to send her a full, true, and particular account of you;


RETROSPECTIVE.
185
“I should think he was!" cried Darrell, laughing.
“Your presence, I imagine, is not difficult to endure."
Janet smiled gravely.
“But you can understand it was a great trial to
him at first; it was a constant reminder of the great
trouble I had brought upon him. It was impossible to
make him understand why the idea of again binding
myself to Mr. Palliser was intolerable to me.
Now,
whether much cogitation has opened his mind to my
reason, or habit has accustomed him to seeing me at
his side, he does not seem to worry himself—this is a
great comfort to me.” She paused, and then continued:
“When Mr. Palliser marries, the past will be irrevocable,
and the whole story more quickly forgotten. You and
your mother are the only friends I can speak to frankly
on this subject, so I cannot resist indulging in a con-
fidential talk.”
“A talk which always interests me!” exclaimed
Darrell. “I always believed you were a plucky woman,
though your patience with Palliser sometimes made me
doubt it. I fancy I was about the first who perceived
the crumples in your rose leaves.”
“Oh! how cruel those first shadows and doubts
were!” said Janet, interlacing her fingers with a gesture
of pain and then resting them on her knee. “No words
of mine could convey the steady growth of bitter de-
spair, that for the time seemed to crush out all of life,


RETROSPECTIVE.
187
save yourself and Lady Darrell," resumed Janet, "for I
cannot be so disloyal to the man whose name I bore,
to describe how he broke my heart, but I well know
how greatly I am misunderstood. There is an old
friend of mine here now, an old playfellow, Captain
Winyard, and I can see that he thinks me—well, an
unprincipled woman. This wounds me, perhaps too
much, and I can say nothing.”
“What a prig the fellow must be!” ejaculated Dar-
rell. "Fancy playing pride with a woman like you!”
“Why not?” asked Janet smiling, “what has my
personality to do with the justice of the question?”
“There is no justice in it, as it happens! All the
same, personality affects everything."
"It ought not," Janet was beginning when the door
opened, and Captain Rowley, looking very hot and
tired, walked in.
“Hey! Lord Darrell!” he exclaimed, brightening up
at the sight of the visitor, “I thought you were away in
the Arctic seas."
They shook hands heartily, and plunged into cordial
talk, while Janet went quickly away and soon returned
with brandy, soda water, and some small nuggets of ice,
to refresh her father, who she saw was greatly tired.
She found him and Darrell talking of Sir Frederic
Saville's death, which Darrell had only heard of since
he had anchored off Kingsport.


188
A CHOICE OF EVILS,
“It must have been rather sudden,” said Darrell,
"for my mother's letters, which I found at Dover, spoke
of his being better. My aunt will feel his death a good
deal. She is a very emotional woman.”
“Yes, yes! she is full of good feeling—I hope affairs
will turn out in pretty good order.”
“So do I, though I hope more than I expect. Now,
Captain Rowley, will you and your daughter come and
lunch with me to-morrow? I want you to look over
the yacht”—to Janet: “she is a new acquisition, not the
one you once honoured with your presence. We'll take
a little cruise in the afternoon, round the point and
along the coast. I'd like to know what you think of
my craft!”
“Never say it again—I'm your man, and I am sure
Janet will enjoy the trip."
"Then I will say good-bye for the present. I must
write some letters for the post.”


A GALLANT ROVER.
189
CHAPTER XI.
A
GALLANT ROVER.
LADY SAVILLE was herself surprised at the sharp
sorrow with which she mourned for her husband.
Memory waſted her back over the bitter
years
of
wrong
and neglect to bright days of love and pleasure, when
change seemed impossible, and life's barometer only
pointed to set fair. She saw him only as the hand-
some debonair love of her youth, and forgot how
wounded pride and angry pain had nearly hurried her
over a precipice which would have separated her from
her boys for ever. Her reply to Janet's affectionate
and sympathetic letter was written in so heart-broken a
tone that it somewhat surprised its reader, remembering,
as she did, many of Lady Saville's sayings anent her
husband. She had, however, by this time, seen enough
of human inconsistency to acknowledge that there was
nothing in the newly-made widow's grief so astonishing
after all.
“You will now understand,” Lady Saville continued
after a long and eloquent outpouring of her grief, "why


A GALLANT ROVER.
191
My kind love to Captain Rowley, I am sure he feels
for me!
"Ever your affectionate but sorrowing,
“G. SAVILLE.”
This epistle reached Janet nearly a fortnight after
she had sent hers to the mourning widow, a fortnight
which had cheered and amused her. The Sea Mew
was still at Kingsport, and Captain Rowley greatly en-
joyed an occasional cruise with her good-humoured,
easy-going owner. In these Janet sometimes accom-
panied him, but she never neglected her work for this
indulgence.
When the day after his delightful walk with Janet
through the woods, Maurice called at the Bungalow, he
was thrilled with a sudden chill sense of uneasiness as
Mrs. Brown informed him that “the missus was out, and
wouldn't be back much before dinner-time. She had
gone with master a-sailing in his lordship’s yacht.”
“Yacht?" exclaimed Winyard, "what yacht?"
“I dunno, sir; but my lord is Lord Darrell.”
“Lord Darrell!” repeated Winyard, whose brain
became immediately occupied in the mystic operation of
putting two and two together. “Tell your mistress I
called, and say that Mr. Bent returned this morning!”
“Yes, sir!”
Winyard walked away to the club, feeling as if he


192
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
had been rubbed the wrong way. There he found the
few members who were lounging over the papers and
magazines, a good deal occupied about the yacht, the
arrival of which at that dead season was rather an event.
“Didn't she win the cup at Cowes last year?” asked
a plump, sharp-looking military surgeon.
“No," returned a naval officer, “I don't think Lord
Darrell does much at regattas. . This is a new vessel.
I remember when Henderson—that young plunger, you
know-bought the Southern Star, Darrell's other yacht.
He's a crack shot as well as a rather salt sailor!
“I met him just now— at least I fancy it must have
been him—walking with old Captain Rowley towards
the pier. I fancy they were going off to the yacht.”
"By the way, do you ever see Rowley's daughter?
“No, she rarely shows up-deuced elegant-looking
I wonder why she cut Palliser?”
"I say, here's Winyard! Ah, Winyard! you know
Captain Rowley very well, don't you?”
“I have known him all my life.”
“Well, is Lord Darrell any relative of his?”
“Not that I know of.”
“I have just met them going down to the pier
together, and it's running in my head that they are
related!”
While the rest babbled, Winyard took up the Times
and screened himself behind its friendly shelter.
woman.


A GALLANT ROVER.
193
What was Lord Darrell like?-he asked himself-
and how old was he? Could he be the favoured lover
for whom Janet had deserted her husband, as she ought
to have considered him? The mother was her great
friend-Janet often spoke of her—and of their familiar
intercourse in Florence! Had Darrell been there too-
had they laid their plans together there?
Did he come now, because Palliser's approaching
marriage gave his former wife a certain liberty? It
seemed almost indecent that a woman should think of
another husband while her first one was alive. That
the husband should do so was another matter, and did
not shock Maurice at all; but a woman-one expected
a different standard from a woman! Then conscience
reminded him that only yesterday he dreamed of winning
her love, of securing her life-long companionship. Then
he was quite different. He was—or ought to have been
--the love of her youth, and—but would she be true?
Might she not find that according to her standard, he
was negligent, cold, unkind, and leave him for some
other fellow who might flatter her vanity more satis-
factorily? No—there was truth and loyalty in her eyes!
Why, in the old days, he would have trusted his life to
her lightest word! Now!—he could never quite trust
her again, never? Never—as old wiseacres say—is a
long word!
He would like to see Darrell and Janet together, he
A Choice of Evils. II.
13


194
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
fancied he should be able to tell at a glance if Darrell
was her lover. But how should he see them together?
Perhaps the yacht would sail away to-morrow! There
was nothing to keep a man of Darrell's character and
position at Beachurst-except Janet herself!
That evening as the brothers-in-law sat over their
wine, came a note addressed to Captain Winyard which,
long though it was since he had seen the writing, thrilled
the recipient with a certain eagerness to know the
contents.
“Dear Maurice," he read, “can you give us the
pleasure of your company at dinner to-morrow at seven-
thirty? If Mr. Bent has returned pray beg of him to
come also! Lord Darrell is here for a few days, and
would very much like to meet you, as Alec Saville has
so often mentioned you in his letters.
“Yours very truly,
"JANET ROWLEY."
Vinyard's eyes dwelt searchingly on the signature,
but he could find no sign of hesitation in the clear,
firm, but by no means pretty caligraphy.
“There,” he said, handing the missive over to his
host, "shall we go?"
“Yes, by all means!” he returned, when he had
glanced over the page. “I fancy Lady Darrell has


A GALLANT ROVER.
195
stuck to Janet like a brick, and such friendship is of
great value to a woman in her very doubtful position.
Gad! it must feel strange to her signing her old name!
She certainly has the courage of her opinions, but I
can't help liking her. There is something uncommonly
straightforward about her!”
“She has placed herself in a terribly false position,"
said Maurice, “no one will believe that she was not
actuated by some dubious motive.”
"Very likely," returned Bent. “I confess I have no
such suspicions now, at first I was a good deal puzzled.
I suppose Mary's liking for her and faith in her has in-
fluenced me. All the same, it was a disastrous step for
a woman to take, and a tremendous come-down from
Mervyn Hall, to a struggle to make both ends meet in
her father's cottage!”
“I don't think she minds that, she is a curious
creature altogether," and Winyard dropped the subject.
He was very glad of the unexpected chance of seeing
Darrell in Janet's presence—but it did not occur to him
that his suspicious and quick-growing jealousy unfitted
him to be a clear-eyed judge of what he wanted to
observe.
“I remember some years ago, when Darrell came
of age, one used to see his name pretty often in the
papers connected with sporting events. He was a great
steeple-chase rider, and a mighty hunter-in fact, 'went
13*


196
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
the pace considerably--now I am told he goes in for
farming and cattle-breeding."
“He is a nephew of Sir Frederick Saville, isn't he?
I suppose that's the connection with the Rowleys?"
“It is! Well-write your note, Maurice, and I'll
send it round.”
*
*
*
*
When Winyard and his brother-in-law reached the
Bungalow the following evening they found Lord Darrell
already arrived and looking his best, as men accustomed
to it generally do, in evening dress—he was lounging in
a deep easy chair beside the sofa where Janet sat. She
wore a black dress of some gauzy silk material, made
in demi-toilet fashion, with a good deal of fine black
lace about the neck and sleeves. She had evidently
been conversing with interest, and the glow of animation
still brightened her expressive eyes.
“Very glad to have an opportunity of meeting you,"
said Darrell, shaking hands with Winyard, “we all heard
a good deal of you about the time of that Hill fort
business, but my young cousin Saville has kept up the
interest ever since he saw you! I am sure we are all
indebted to you for your great kindness and care of
Alec.”
Maurice bowed.
“My aunt will, I know, be delighted to have a talk
with you as soon as the first days of her mourning are


A GALLANT ROVER.
197
over.
22
I fancy”-to Janet-"she will be in London
next week—I shall not go up to Yorkshire until I see
her. I believe she is awfully cut up."
“Her letter to me was very sad,” said Janet.
“She was all alone, too,” resumed Darrell, “death
came very suddenly at the last. Her eldest boy in
India-her brother, well, otherwise engaged—I myself
watching the midnight sun. Lady Saville is not exactly
what one could describe as a woman of much moral
force.”
“She is very kind and charming,” said Janet
thoughtfully.
“No doubt, one of the most charming women I
ever met.”
Here dinner was announced, and Darrell offered
his arm to the hostess. It was quite natural and
proper, but it seemed to Maurice that he presumed
At table the talk turned on India, and
Winyard was gradually drawn to speak of that country.
His experiences evidently interested Lord Darrell; then
they wandered to tiger-shooting, and thence to the
prospects of sport in the now near-at-hand shooting
upon his rank.
season.
“I hope you will come and try our country next
month," said Darrell, turning to Maurice. “There is a
wide stretch of moorland within a couple of miles of
my place you know it, Mrs. Rowley—just at the other


198
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
side of the river; I am told the birds are plentiful and
healthy. I should be very pleased to introduce you to
my mother-suppose you and Captain Rowley join us?”
to Janet. "I expect a good many men after the twenty-
second—when my mother goes south, but till then it
shall be as small a party as you like. If your old
friend, Captain Winyard, comes it may be an induce-
ment.
“You are very good, Lord Darrell,” she returned
with a smile and shake of her head, “but that can-
not be.”
“Are you going to cut us all for ever and a day?”
"Oh, no! I hope to indulge myself in a little visit
to your mother when she is in Devonshire.”
“Thank you,” said Winyard. “I am afraid I am
engaged for all August and part of September, or I
should gladly avail myself of your hospitality.
“Well, I shall be at Woodlands till the end of Sep-
tember and if you can give me a week or two at any
time, send me a line, and come along."
Winyard repeated his thanks, while he confessed to
himself that Darrell's frank civility and apparent wish
for his (Winyard's) society looked exceedingly unlike
the sort of jealous unfriendliness which would be
natural in an unavowed lover towards a man who had
the advantage of early intimacy, the position of an old
playfellow.


A GALLANT ROVER.
199
His keen watchfulness prevented Maurice from en-
joying the sociable little dinner as his convives did.
Captain Rowley was unusually bright; to entertain his
friends was always a joy to him, and in spite of the
shock he had sustained when Janet refused to return to
Palliser, the happiness and comfort of her companion-
ship had revived and invigorated him. He told several
anecdotes illustrative of life afloat in his early days,
and discussed the great changes which had almost
metamorphosed the service in a wonderfully liberal
spirit. Mr. Bent's dockyard experiences furnished some
curious observations on the character of the British
artisan, and Lord Darrell added his quota to the
general fund of conversation from the variety of his
travels in foreign parts. After dinner, the gentlemen
indulged in a game of whist, while Janet, knitting in
hand, watched the game, and occasionally joined in
the arguments which arose about a disputed point.
But with all his suspicious vigilance, Maurice could
detect nothing more than frank, unembarrassed friend-
liness in the speech, manner and looks of Darrell,
was Janet in the slightest degree different from her
ordinary composed self, and how delightful her com-
posure was with its occasional sparkle of animation
when something touched her. No, it was impossible
that a man who was in love could so guard eyes and
voice. Maurice well knew the task it was to keep his
nor


200
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
own gaze averted from the fair, earnest face, the grace-
ful, pliant figure-every line of which filled him with
unspeakable delight—the deft, white hands he longed
to kiss, the dark, speaking eyes, in which at times he
would give half his life to read responsive tenderness.
No, there was certainly no trace of a lover about Dar-
rell; his manner, though well bred, had a certain bluff-
ness, which suggested candour and inability to conceal
his real feelings or impressions. As to Janet, why, wo-
men could mask their batteries or mines better. Still,
it was annoying to observe how many memories and
what a number of acquaintances they had in common,
and how well they amused themselves discussing people
and things he (Maurice) had never heard of. There
was a degree of mutual understanding between them
evidently; it "riled” him, too, to hear him call her
“Mrs. Rowley” so glibly and unblushingly, and she did
not mind it a bit. What unaccountable creatures wo-
men were!
One effect of this trying encounter was
to show him what a helpless condition he was in him-
self.
“It won't do," he thought. “I fancied I was safe-
guarded by the grave doubts her conduct has aroused,
but I did not know the depth or height of my own
folly: I must get away! my only safety is in flight! Dar-
rell may not be the lover, but could it be possible that
any woman would desert a fairly good husband-for


A GALLANT ROVER.
201
2
no one ever accused Palliser of brutality or infidelity-
and a luxurious home from any motive less than love
for another man? What else could give a woman the
strength and force to choose the revolting position of
an unwedded wife? I will retreat while I can.”
“I must say good-bye for the present as well as
good-night,” was his valediction. “I have some busi-
ness in Town and shall go on to Scotland for my long-
promised visit.”
“Before
your
sister returns?"
“Oh, I shall see her again before Christmas.”
"Well, my father and I are going to treat ourselves
to a little change, after the roasting we have had here.
We are going for a week to Edgefield; my father says
it is cool and shady and delightfully rural there."
“Yes, I fancy it is. Good-night.”
“Pray, remember to take Woodlands on your way
back," said Darrell, shaking hands with him cordially.
A few words at parting with Bent, respecting the
return of his wife and children, and Janet was left
alone with Darrell, her father having gone to the gate
to speed the parting guests.
“He's a nice young fellow—Winyard, I mean,” said
Darell, following Janet, who had stepped out on the
balcony.
“You speak as if you were old enough to be his
father," she returned, smiling.


202
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
“He must be ten years my junior-how old is
he?"
“About twenty-seven, I think.”
"Just so. It is quite natural that I should take a
fatherly interest in him. He'll be a stern commander
as the years go on; there's a dash of the Puritan in
him, I fancy, a sort of fellow who'll put his trust in
God, but take right good care to keep his powder
dry,' all the same. He's of the sort that conquers new
realms coolly for England, in the way of duty! You
must have quarrelled pretty often in the days of your
early friendship."
“Why do you think so?”
“There's a certain antagonism of nature between
you; you are too free and independent a member for
so determined a character as Winyard, if my hasty
judgment is right.”
“Maurice Winyard is greatly changed,” said Janet,
as if to herself, resting her arms on the railing of the
verandah and gazing on the water, which looked, in
the moonlight, like a sheet of rippled silver. “He used
to be so even-tempered and kind."
“I don't suppose he is unkind now, and I'll swear
he is not hard-hearted, but he has rubbed shoulders
with rough realities, and the sudden demands of a
dangerous emergency have developed the power that
lay dormant in him. He'll rise high in his profession


A GALLANT ROVER.
203
if he lives, but he has a strong dash of the Puritan.
You have a delightful look-out here,” he continued.
“It's a nice little place, but don't bury yourself here
too long! The more you avoid the world, the more
formidable the world will appear. Why should you avoid
Society?--Society will be deuced glad to have you."
“I am very happy here, Lord Darrell, and do not
despise me—I dread society. I do not like to en-
counter cold looks, and clear as I feel my conscience
---conscience is not always a steadfast backer."
“This will not do, Mrs. Rowley. You must go and
stay with my mother and listen to the words of wisdom
from her lips."
"I will gladly, but many things conspire to make
me prefer retirement; here is my father, I can say no
more.”
“Lovely night," ejaculated Captain Rowley.
tinge more yellow in the moonlight and one might
fancy oneself in Sicily."
“And you are going to rusticate for a few days?"
asked Lord Darrell, offering his cigar case to the old
sailor. “Where is your intended retreat?”
“Oh! a little village or hamlet some ten miles off,
where they found the remains of a Roman villa about
two years ago. They have been excavating at intervals
ever since, and it is something to look at -a sort of
idle occupation."
“A
2


204
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
“I'll come and have a look myself, as soon as I
have put my yacht out of commission. I am not due
at Woodlands till next week. Shall we run up to
Weymouth to-morrow, Captain Rowley? I think you
enjoy being afloat."
“I confess I do."
“Then what hour shall we start?” Darrell asked,
addressing Janet.
“I am sorry I cannot join you. I have a variety of
things to do and must not play truant.”
From this, Darrell could not move her though he
used many ingenious arguments, and so having agreed
that Captain Rowley should report himself at noon as
“come on board,” Darrell bade his entertainer a cordial
good-night.


A LAST MEETING.
209
how long ago? Perhaps I ought not to talk about those
bygone days."
Janet was silent for a minute.
“I do not mind hearing them mentioned," she said.
“Is it obtuseness, or want of delicacy?—Mervyn and all
connected with it have passed out of my life so com-
pletely. I went through such deep waters of affliction,
that rising at last above them, I have found new heavens
and a new earth, though I have lost a few treasures in
the flood!”
“Yes! I suppose you haven't much faith left in
men?"
“No! Have I not seen plenty of good men? There
is my father and the vicar, and Mr. Bent, not to men-
tion Maurice and yourself, Lord Darrell.”
“Thank you! as to Winyard, he might be irreproach-
able, yet not an agreeable husband!”
“You don't know how nice he is to the women he
likes and respects."
“Ha!” exclaimed Darrell, darting a quick, enquiring
glance at her. “Yes, the Puritan comes in there!”
“How do you know you would be a good husband
yourself, Lord Darrell? It seems to me a tremendous
test, the relationship of men and women in holy matri-
mony; excellent people in other respects often fail as
husbands and wives.”
“I think,” said Darrell with much gravity, “that I
A Choice of Evils. II.
14


210
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
should make an admirable husband! I am not inclined
to fall in love, not since I was six-and-twenty, up to
which time I had several bad attacks. Now I am
almost sure, that the worst beginning of matrimony a
man can make is to be in love with his wife!”
“Perhaps so," returned Janet laughing, "only it must
be nearly impossible to make up one's mind to such a
tremendous leap in the dark, if you have not the wild-
fire of love to drive you over the precipice!"
“You must write a thrilling novel next, Mrs. Rowley.
With your experience you ought to manage splendidly,
though it is highly audacious in a mere ignoramus like
myself to attempt criticism. I must venture to say that
I have noticed an enormous improvement between the
first of your Alpine papers, and those you have written
since.”
“I am glad you think so, for I am inclined to believe
what you say, nor are you so unlearned as you affect
to be."
A short silence ensued, both were gazing at the
sleepy loveliness of the wide valley before them, the
changing glories of the sunset.
Then Janet said softly, “Can't you fancy the sensa-
tion of rest and refreshment with which the general in
command or the proconsul, or whoever the big man
was at Torchester in its Roman day, rode away from
the heat and harassment of the camp, to this delightful


2 1 2
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
that I forgot to tell you Lady Saville is expected in
town to-day. I had a letter from my man of business,
who is also the Savilles', and he says my aunt wants to
see me as I pass through town, so I shall say adieu to
you and to this pretty spot to-morrow evening. I shall
try and persuade Lady Saville to come with me to
Woodlands. It is too ghastly to stay in London in
August. I fancy she has a good deal to attend to.”
“No doubt! I should like to see her again. Her
life has not been all sunshine."
“I suspect not—in fact, her rose leaves have been
pretty considerably crumpled.”
The day but one after this conversation, Captain
Rowley and his daughter returned home refreshed and
embrowned, and Janet set to work on her paper for the
friendly editor while her impressions were fresh, and
had nearly accomplished the due amount of copy, when
the letter she rather expected from Lady Saville
reached her.
“I have been so busy and worried,” it ran, “that I
could not write to you before. Now—this is not a letter,
only a prayer. Do be compassionate, come and bear
me company for a few days—I am so wretchedly lonely,
and no one could do me so much good as yourself. I
would not ask you, if there was the slightest chance of
any awkward meeting, but there is not the least pro-


A LAST MEETING.
213
bability of such a contretemps, so be a true friend and
come to me."
"I can hardly refuse,” said Janet, when she saw her
father had finished reading Lady Saville's letter.
“No, certainly not, you might go up on Monday,
and I think I'll follow you on Saturday. I want to--'
he paused.
“What do you want, dear Dad?”
He still hesitated.
“The truth is, I want to see Tom!” he broke out
at last. “It is too unnatural, this estrangement, and
deucedly unfair to you. I have hoped and hoped he
would make the first advance, but as he has not, I
think I will just speak to him face to face, and as the
wife will most probably be out of town, he'll be left to
himself, and more likely to hear reason."
“You must do what you think best, father.
sorry and disappointed that Tom had so little faith in
me, but I fancy he has the majority on his side, in
thinking me very reprehensible for taking the chance of
freedom when it offered. I should be glad if you and
he were friends again, and pray remember I have never
quarrelled with him.”
"You are very forgiving, my pet.”
"It is easy to forgive what does not hurt one much,”
said Janet, with a sigh. “It is curious how few people
I am


214
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
>>
or things affect me now; I look on the outside world
through glasses which diminish rather than magnify-I
am certainly old of my years."
“Don't talk like that, dear child! I do not like to
hear it. I am pretty sure that you endured more than
anyone knows before you were driven to such a step,
but Tom has been influenced by his wife-a damned,
tuft-hunting, underbred plebeian, by George!”
“She seems to make Tom very comfortable, so leave
her alone, dear."
“Well, anyway I will go up to Town, and see what
I can do with him; I should like to have a talk with
Lady Saville, too-she is a very charming woman."
"And Lady Saville will be very pleased to see you."
“Then I can bring you back with me. I don't
much care for the house without you, Janet! You are
more in it than you ever were before."
“Why, dad! I ought to be, considering my years
and vast experience," she returned, with a smile which
touched the father's heart with pitying tenderness.
shall write at once to Lady Saville. Two days more
will quite finish my Minerva paper. I must go and see
Mr. Valentine while I am in Town, that is, if he is not
"I
away.”
*
It was strange to find herself in London, Janet
thought, as she drove from Waterloo Bridge, through


216
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
are looking very well, Janet—thinner and paler than
you used to be, but looking much better than I ex-
pected. Now, I am a wreck-oh, yes, I know I am.”
“You are not, Lady Saville," returned Janet firmly.
“You are pale, too, but your eyes are as bright as
ever, and your mourning makes you look interesting,
not ill.”
“Do you really think so? Well, I do hope I am
not a fright. But why Lady Saville?-I am Gertrude
to you always, dear. Now come to your room. Dinner
will be ready directly. We shall be quite tête-à-tête;
even if I wished to ask anyone, there is no one in Town
to ask. Darrell was here last week, and cheered me a
little—he is a very good fellow! He was quite vexed
you did not come up before; he was obliged to return
home on Saturday. How wonderfully you seem to get
on with his mother! She is rather a difficult woman-
at least, she never liked me - but
you get on with
everyone.”
Janet smiled a somewhat sad smile, and shook her
head.
“Ah! yes, I know what you mean-but that is quite
different!" with which enigmatical phrase Lady Saville
left her to her toilette.
With a curious, dazed feeling Janet descended to
dinner. To be with Palliser's sister seemed like a re-
storation to her old life; it made her a little nervous,


218
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
angels can dance on the point of a needle and that
sort of thing! As to my brother--oh! speaking of him,
I forgot to say the reason I was so sure you need not
fear meeting him is that--now you are quite sure you
will not mind what I am going to say?"
“How can I tell until I know what it is?” said Janet,
laughing
“Of course, it is about Randal. Well, he went over
to Paris last Wednesday--to make arrangements. The
de Courcys have been somewhere—Denmark, I think-
and they are to meet and have the marriage very quietly
in Paris. You see, either in the country or in London
there must be some publicity about it—and it is to
take place next week.”
“Indeed! Then there can be very little danger of
meeting him here,” said Janet, simply.
“And
you really don't mind—not at all? You are
a wonderful creature, Janet! Then I may say that he
-Randal, is very much taken with Miss de Courcy-
she is quite wild about him.”
“I trust she may continue to please him," observed
Janet with a quick sigh, “for her own sake as well
as his.”
“So do I. But do you know I don't think Randal
is nearly so far gone as he was about you!"
“So much the better for Miss de Courcy, perhaps.”
“Perhaps !” echoed Lady Saville, and then ex-


220
A CHOICE OF EVILS:
The time hung somewhat heavily on their hands.
There was literally nothing to do. The shops were un-
attractive, and the heads of departments in the great
millinery and dress-making establishments were like
their customers-out of Town. But drives in Richmond
Park and over Hampstead Heath to the pleasant lanes
that lie beyond, helped them through several of the
days which Lady Saville was obliged to pass in Town,
waiting the completion of some business that entailed
her signature to certain papers.
Captain Rowley came up, as he proposed, and sur-
prised his daughter by an early visit. His face on
entering bespoke disappointment.
“I have had my journey for my pains,” he said.
“Tom started for Scarborough last night. I was an
idiot not to have ascertained whether he were at home
or not. This comes of starting on a Friday.
“Never mind, my dear Captain Rowley, your com-
pany gives us a great deal of pleasure. You will spend
the rest of your time with me, but you must not dream
of returning on Monday! I want your advice about
some matters."
“I'll give you the best my old brains can, but back
I must go on Monday. I have a return ticket, my dear
lady."
“That is an unanswerable argument,” said Janet,
smiling


A LAST MEETING.
221
“Then, my dear sir, please do not take away Janet.
It is positive cruelty to leave me in this wilderness of
empty houses.
I am sure you could not be so unkind.
I hope to get away to Lady Darrell, in Devonshire, next
week. Do let Janet stay with me till then,” and of
course Captain Rowley consented.
The old man was greatly cast down by missing his
son. He had set his heart upon a reconciliation be-
tween him and Janet, as it seemed a great wrong and
injury to her that her only brother should so openly
disapprove her parting from Palliser. Lady Saville and
Janet did their best to amuse and cheer their visitor
on Saturday afternoon. He was taken to see some
recent additions to the Naval Museum. Sunday morn-
ing they attended service in Westminster Abbey, for the
Captain loved music in a natural, uneducated manner.
The afternoon was devoted to a confidential talk with
Lady Saville, and the beautiful evening was given to
the Botanic Gardens.
The following Tuesday Lady Saville was invited to
attend at her solicitor's office to conclude the business
which had detained her in Town, and when she went
out Janet sat down to write letters; one especially to
Lady Darrell, to inform her of Lady Saville's movements,
as the former proposed leaving Woodlands sooner than
she had intended, in order to receive her widowed
sister-in-law in her seaside abode. The writing-table


222
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
was near the door which opened against it, so that it
was hidden from anyone entering, and Janet wrote
steadily for half an hour, indulging herself in a chat on
paper with her friend, when the door was suddenly
opened, and a voice, not the voice of the waiter who
usually attended on Lady Saville, said, “You'll find
pens and paper here, sir.” A gentleman entered, the
door was closed. Janet started up and found herself
face to face with Palliser.


PARTING FOR EVER.
223
CHAPTER XIII.
PARTING FOR EVER.
For an instant Palliser looked dazed, as if he
doubted his senses, then he exclaimed:
“Janet! Good God!”
She too felt overwhelmed with a painful sense of
being an intruder, of having placed herself in a trying
and undignified position; she was unnerved and dis-
posed to apologise for her presence.
A flush of annoyance darkened Palliser's face, while
hers grew very white. She made a strong effort and
regained self-possession partially.
“I am very sorry Lady Saville is out. I think she
will return in half an hour, at least, she expected to be
in before one,” said Janet, steadily enough. She took
up the letters she had been writing, and hastily arranged
fresh paper, intending to leave the room at once. Pal-
liser, however, stood between her and the door, gazing
at her with a look in which anger and curiosity con-
tended. Janet could not pass him without asking him
to stand aside. She hesitated, but her self-possession
was returning


226
A CHOICE OF EVILS,
For a
tinguished he was, and how deeply she regretted that
the charming lover she once loved so well, had been
replaced by the disappointed, selfish man who had
ceased to attract, and could only be repellent to her.
While it may possibly have flashed across his mind
that she was indeed fair, with a beauty that time could
never quite efface, for the light which embellished it
came from a true heart and a strong spirit.
moment the sweet, sad eyes held his, then with a mur-
mured good-bye-she passed him and left the room,
feeling they had exchanged the last words that would
ever pass between them.
For some minutes after she had reached her own
room Janet could not think clearly, everything swam
before her eyes, she sat down and covered her face
with her hands, waiting for the wild beating of her
heart to subside. Then she mentally went through the
agitating interview from which she had just escaped,
and thanked Heaven she felt more convinced than
ever that she had done well and wisely in accepting
the deliverance a strange chance had thrown in her
way.
She had sat long thus, living the past over again,
when Lady Saville in her out-of-door garb and deep
crape veil, came into the room.
“What an extraordinary occurrence!” she exclaimed.
“There is indeed nothing so near at hand as what we


PARTING FOR EVER.
227
consider improbable. I could not believe my eyes when
I found Randal in the drawing-room. He was in the
wildest fury with you, and me, and, I fancy, himself;
yet his disturbance was not all fury. I am thankful he
is gone."
“But how was it he came here?”
“Oh, the lawyers have been making some mistake
which offended Lord de Courcy, so Randal started off
from Paris last night to see it all put to rights. He
returns to-morrow. The wedding is fixed for the seven-
teenth-you must have seemed like a spectre to him.
It was a most dramatic meeting. Why, Janet, you are
not nearly so upset as he is. If ever you wished revenge
for the bad quarters of an hour you owe him, you ought
to be amply satisfied! He has been desperately morti-
fied!"
“I never had the faintest desire for revenge, as you
must know, Gertrude."
“That is the strongest proof of indifference. I
wonder how Miss de Courcy feels about marrying him,
when she knows you are alive?”
“She does not think about me."
“I suppose not. What an extraordinary business
it has been. When Randal's marriage is announced,
there will be a huge aftermath of gossip, and then it
will all die away. Everything and every one is for-
gotten in London."
15*


228
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
Both were silent for a few moments, then Lady
Saville said:
“I think I am now quite free to leave town on
Saturday, so I can release you. It has been so good
of you to stay with me, dear, you have been such a com-
fort. I am infinitely sorry that Randal-”
“My dear Lady Saville, I would rather not hear
any more about him; the sooner we forget all about
each other the better."
“I suppose you are right.”
*
*
*
*
Janet felt a new creature when she found herself
again in her father's quiet home. While in London she
missed the luxuries and conveniences of her former
town life—at Beachurst she forgot all about them. She
felt thoroughly contented with the tranquil obscurity of
her lot. In time suitable and pleasant acquaintances
would gather around her, a few true friends had never
failed; care, tender, attentive, cheerful companionship
would prolong her dear father's days, and when in the
course of nature he was taken from her, she would be
old enough, established enough, to live alone; she might
even have a safe footing in literature, though she never
believed she could take a higher place. There was,
however, an ever increasing mass of readers, the ma-
jority of whom only cared to have their fancy tickled,
so she hoped to find a market for the articles and light


PARTING FOR EVER.
229
essays which practice made easier to her as she per-
severed, and subjects more frequently suggested them-
selves.
“You are looking quite blooming, dear dad!” she
exclaimed, as they sat down to a late dinner as soon as
she had removed her travelling garb after her arrival,
and noticing the more than usual cheerfulness in his
honest blue-grey eyes.
“I feel uncommon well, hearty as a buck! I'm ready
to walk through the woods to Farley Hill with you to-
morrow.”
“You may be, but I do not feel equal to six miles
out, and back again!” said Janet, laughing.
“No? Well, you don't look it! London has not
agreed with you this time.”
She did not reply beyond a little nod-she would
not disturb the old man by mentioning her meeting
with Palliser, not yet at least! Captain Rowley went on:
“The fact is, I have had a capital tonic in the
shape of a very sensible, straightforward letter from
Tom. He was sorry to have missed me, and as soon
as he returns home, will run down to see us; but he
and his wife are going on for a tour in Scotland, and
will not be back till next month. If all comes right
between you two, I don't see that I'll have much left
to wish for. I feel pretty sure—always did--that Tom's
heart was in the right place—it's his wife who made


230
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
the mischief; she didn't like to lose her anchorage in
Mervyn Hall, it was her 'vantage ground. Eh, Janet!
my Jo Janet! and you'll not be hard on your brother,
my pet?”
“Hard on Tom! no, certainly not! Why should I,
dad? I do not feel inclined to be hard on anyone!”
“That's right! I'll show you his letter after dinner.
I'll swear he wrote it in his own room all by himself,
before he joined madam," and the old man winked
with tremendous knowingness.
As soon as they had finished dinner, Captain Rowley
settled himself with his pipe in the verandah, and
handed his son's letter to Janet.
“My dear father,” it ran, “I am extremely sorry I
had left the office before you called, for you must know
that I am always glad to see you, though I entirely dis-
agree with you as regards my sister's conduct, which I
look upon as simply suicidal. Had you steadily set
your face against it, and refused her shelter, she would
most probably have returned to Palliser, whose wife she
certainly was in the sight of Heaven.
"I hear, however, that he shows little regard for
the tie which existed between them, and is on the eve
of marriage; so possibly Janet may have had more to
complain of than has come to light. Therefore, in ac-


PARTING FOR EVER.
231
cordance with your wish, I am willing to bury the past
and be on friendly terms with her in future.
“I shall run down for a day as soon as we return
from Scotland, where we are going to take a little tour
until the middle of September. I shall do my best to
bring my wife round to my views, but as she has very
strong views on the subject of morality, it may take
time. Looking forward with pleasure to seeing you,
“I am, your affectionate son,
“Thos. Rowley."
Janet slowly re-folded it and put it back in its
envelope.
“There is some hope for me in the prospect of
Mrs. Tom's condoning my offence," she said with a
quiet smile, "meantime, I will possess my soul in patience,
and receive Tom as usual.”
“That's right, that is wiselike!” said Captain Rowley
in a tone of satisfaction, while Janet thought her father
was thankful for small mercies.
The following week was marked by the return of
her friend, Mrs. Bent, whose society and the interest
she took in her friend's children, was perhaps Janet's
greatest comfort, outside her home. Also by the follow-
ing announcement:
“On the 17th instant, at the British Embassy, Paris,


232
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
by the Rev. St. John Robinson, Randal Palliser, of
Mervyn Hall, Southshire, to the Honourable Hildegarde,
only child of Lord de Courcy.”
So that chapter of her life was completely closed-
closed with the sound of wedding bells, which is better,
Janet thought, than a mourning knell ---certainly she
did not feel mournful. Captain Rowley made no ob-
servation on the subject, but Janet spoke of it calmly,
and then gave him an account of her meeting with
Palliser.
The old man muttered "Heartless scoundrel!"
between his teeth, and after a minute's pause asked
gently:
“Tell me, my child, do you never regret all you
have given up?"
“No, dearest dad! I am too well content with all
I have gained," and she kissed his brow tenderly.
August had gone by, and September came in with
a spell of sultry weather and cloudy skies, and an oc-
casional rough but warm breeze, which made the atmo-
sphere still more oppressive.
Mrs. Bent began to talk of expecting her brother,
who seemed rather uncertain as to his movements.
“I do not know what is the matter with Maurice,”!
she said one afternoon as she sat at tea with Janet; "he
does not seem as happy as he was when he arrived,


PARTING FOR EVER.
233
and he is so restless too! Oh, by the way, he took an
excursion up the Caledonian Canal after he left that
place where he was shooting, and he met your brother
and his wife on the steamer. They appear to have
travelled together for a couple of days.”
“Indeed!” said Janet, and the thought that it was
a junction of forces inimical to herself flashed across
her mind.
"Everyone is restless now," she resumed. "I had
a letter from Lady Saville this morning; she says she
has made up her mind to pay Alexander a visit, and
will start for India in October. She is going to stay
with some relations in Norfolk first, so she must leave
Lady Darrell soon. Then I have promised to go to
her—I have postponed my visit as I best could, for I
much prefer having Lady Darrell to myself.”
“Where is her son?” asked Mrs. Bent.
“At his own place. He has not been much there
this year, and is to have a succession of shooting parties.”
“How nice it must be to pack up and leave for the
ends of the earth when one chooses, like Lady Saville,"
remarked Mrs. Bent, pensively.
“The power of money is great, but riches and
poverty are relative! I never feel poor, though we are
obliged to be very careful. Of course I may want
something one day very badly and not be able to get
it, then, I suppose, I shall crave for riches!”


PARTING FOR EVER.
235
and walked most of the way back with her, till they
separated at “the parting of the ways."
But as is often the case with first visits, made at
the orthodox time of day, Lady Katherine was out, so
Janet could only repay pasteboard with pasteboard, and
stroll home along the Common, taking herself to task
for the shy reluctance she felt to make a new ac-
quaintance.
A few mornings later, when Janet came down to
breakfast, she found her father beaming over a letter
he was reading.
“There," he said, when he had kissed her and
said good-morning. “It's from Tom," handing her the
letter.
It was brief but kindly. They were starting next
day for London, and the following Saturday he would
run down to Beachurst and remain till Sunday evening.
“I am very glad,” observed Janet, laying down the
letter. “You will be pleased to see him.”
“Well, let me see, it's good eighteen months since
I saw him. What would please me, my pet, would
be to see my two children real good friends before I
die.”
"I shall do my best, dearest dad. And you are
going to see us good friends for many a long year,
though I do not fancy Mrs. Tom will ever quite forgive
me; still,” with a sweet pleasant laugh, “I can quite


238
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
attend to her household duties, her face growing grave,
a sad expression stealing into her eyes as she thought
-"Yes, I can make him happy and myself content,
and perhaps, happy too, but something has gone out
of my life that will never return, and nearly all my
youth has gone with it! Still, there may be unlooked-
for good in the future. Shall I ever be quite indif-
ferent to the doubt with which I am regarded? At
best the verdict upon me is, 'not proven.' Time, however,
obliterates almost every mark, and in time will——"
Here she reached the kitchen, and a leading ques-
tion from “General Brown” arrested her attention.
When she returned to the den, Captain Rowley was
still deep in his daughter's lucubrations.
She therefore sat down to write a long letter to
Lady Saville, and the morning went swiftly in her usual
occupations.
After luncheon the rain ceased and the wind abated
considerably.
“Well, I'll make my way down to the club," said
Captain Rowley, after a long look at the sky and sea.
"I wish you would take me to Laurel Lodge first,"
replied Janet. “I promised to help Mary with some
planning and cutting out to-day, and I do not like to
disappoint her.”
“Wrap up well then, and put on over-shoes—the
roads are in a horrid state."


PARTING FOR EVER,
239
Janet obeyed, and father and daughter started-
she, glad to feel how steady and firm the old man's
arm still was—while he chuckled over the good points
of her Minerva contribution, which he had read through
twice.
At the gate of Mrs. Bent's garden they parted.
Janet paused to look after her father as he walked
sturdily to the corner of a road just beyond where he
turned and waved his good-bye, with a happy smile
beaming all over his broad honest face. Then Janet
pushed the gate open and walked to the door.
She received a hearty welcome, as Mrs. Bent hardly
hoped she would come, and the two friends were soon
deep in consultation over sundry small garments suited
to the coming winter.
“I sometimes wonder, Janet, that you have come
back to our everyday life of contrivance and economy,
as if you had never left it, after the luxury and finery
you must have been accustomed to!”
“Well, you see, neither the luxury nor the finery
did much towards making me happy. I grew ac-
customed to them, yes--to a certain degree; but they
were always nullified by a sense that they were not
rightfully mine, at times it was oppressive. Then again
I would forget-—I do not think I have any taste for
grandeur, I have little or no ambition, I suspect I am
very indolent by nature."


240
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
“You!” cried Mrs. Bent, “why, you are never idle!”
“One can be indolent, though you do not sit with
your hands on your lap. But my idea of happiness is
peace.”
“I fear that is because you haven't much hope!”
“Don't fancy I am hopeless, Mary! I am content
with the present, and in no way afraid of the future;
but the vivid hopefulness that fills one's veins with an
indistinct ecstacy, and erects huge air castles—ah! that
is gone, has been gone for some years."
“I don't know what would become of me, if I
had the faintest doubt that I was all the world to
John!” said Mrs. Bent, letting the two lengths of stuff
she was pinning together fall on her lap, and gazing
across the room with unseeing eyes. “I don't mean
to say we are the least sentimental, and we have little
tiffs now and then, but I am certain we are ten times
more necessary to each other than the day we mar-
ried, and there is nothing in the world I would not tell
him.”
“Thank God then, and take courage!” returned
Janet, with rather a sad smile. “Life has scarcely any
insurmountable ills for a pair like you, so long as you
are left together!”
“Ah, yes! your words involve a terrible possibility,
Janet."
“But even if parted, dear Mary, your memory could
22


242
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
as they had been speaking of him, of the close tie which
existed between them?
“God forbid!” she ejaculated in her heart, and
stayed still and silent waiting for her friend's return.
She came soon. The moment Janet's eyes met hers
she knew that some catastrophe had happened.
Mrs. Bent was white and trembling, and a look of
horror gave a strange wildness to her gentle face.
“Dear Mary! what has happened?” cried Janet,
starting up. "Nothing to Mr. Bent, I trust?"
“Oh, no, no!” bursting in tears, “but your dear
father, he has met with a sad accident.
Come-come
and see Dr. Thornton.”
Before the words were finished, Janet flew past her
to the drawing-room, where she found the bearer of
evil tidings, looking pale and haggard.
He was a
tall, gaunt man, and she was slightly acquainted with
him.
“Tell me the whole truth!” she cried, clasping his
arm, “and take me to my father!”
“My dear madam!” stammered the agitated man.
Janet stepped back, and looked intently into his
troubled eyes.
“He is dead ?" she cried, in a terrified but con-
vinced tone.
“I must not deceive you-I-I-alas!-yes-he is
-no more"-stammered Thornton.
.


PARTING FOR EVER.
245
moving in some painful dream till she came to the
boat-house, and found herself in the silent, majestic
presence of death. Still and unutterably peaceful the
dear old man lay, his homely features touched with the
beauty and dignity so often bestowed by the king of
terrors upon his victims. It was sleep-heavenly sleep
-as if he was conscious that sin, and sorrow, and
suffering had passed away for ever.
Janet had hitherto been profoundly quiet and quite
tearless, but when she saw the dear, familiar face thus
glorified by the transfiguration of death, she uttered a
despairing cry.
“Speak to me,
father!
Once more
only once
more! Oh, do not leave me!” and kneeling down she
kissed the ice-cold cheek, shuddering at the contact, as
Nature will shudder at the touch of the lifeless, how-
ever dear and cherished. “Is there no help?" she cried
passionately. “The nearly drowned sometimes
brought back to life!”
Thornton shook his head, and with an expressive
gesture pointed to the various appliances which lay
around.
"Believe me, nothing was left undone before we
decided on sending for you. At first, I hoped to bring
you comfort, but-_"
are


246
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
Then her tears burst forth, the picture of rest and
happiness in the recumbent figure before her touching
the deep reservoir of her tenderness, unchecked by one
bitter or remorseful thought; she kissed his brow, she
lovingly stroked back his grey hairs, while her frame
shook with sobs, and the big tears rolled down her
cheeks unheeded. At last, Mrs. Bent passed her arm
through hers, and led her unresistingly away.
Janet was helpless and exhausted—she let her friend
do what she would and scarcely knew what was going
on around her, till she found herself at her own home.
Mrs. Brown was holding the door open with one hand,
and her apron to her eyes with the other.
Mr. Bent was there and Mr. Thornton, and they
seemed busy writing. The former was very gentle and
grave, he said:
“Let me have your brother's address—I want to
send him a telegram. Try to bear up under this
terrible blow. Mary shall stay with you—we will all
do what we can for you."
Janet gave him her brother's private address, re-
membering he would be at home that evening; she
did everything they told her ---even tried to eat a
biscuit and drink a little wine, while a muffled move-
ment pervaded the house, and officials came and


"IT CANNOT BE."
249
Tom was deeply affected, and pressed his sister to
him kindly, but this did not prevent his saying:
“No-poor old fellow!—I don't know either. I'm
sure he had enough to break his heart.”
“Yet he was very happy,” she returned. “Come
and look. When I cannot control my grief, it calms
me to look at him."
Seeing her brother was greatly moved, Janet stole
away and left him alone with the dead.
Then came all the inevitable business which death
entails. These were taken off Janet's hands by her
brother and Mrs. Bent, and the fact of having little or
nothing to do made the days more cruelly oppressive,
while the consciousness that time alone would enable
her to realise all she had lost in losing her beloved
companion grew clearer.
As she grew calmer and more mistress of herself,
so the road of life which stretched before her seemed
more parched and stony, with many a pebble and many
a thorn to bruise and pierce her wandering feet. Yet,
she had a brave heart and never for an instant did she
regret the step she had taken-she tried to fix her
mind on the present, and leave the future to arrange
itself.
Though they issued but few invitations to the •
funeral, many acquaintances begged leave to attend.
Maurice Winyard hastened from Scotland, and Lord


252
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
morrow, if you prefer seeing me in the morning. I have
promised my mother to give a report of you and to
give you a message if possible.
“Yours, with sincerest sympathy,
“DARRELL.”
“Well?” asked Tom, looking up, a little surprise in
his eyes.
"I will see him to-day." I need not delay his
journey. His mother is my best friend, and my dear
father was quite fond of him,” said Janet. She traced
a few lines of reply, and sent it to the messenger.
“I suppose I had better be off," exclaimed her
brother.
“No; why should you? You have met Lord Darrell,
and as it was so friendly of him to come all this long
way to show respect to the dear father, you ought to
see him.”
“Very well,” said Tom, and continued to look over
some papers Janet had given him, while she sat gazing
in sad thought at the fire, which Mrs. Brown had
kindled to give something of cheerfulness to the room.
It seemed a very short time since the answer to Lord
Darrell's note had been despatched, when, somewhat to
their surprise, he was announced.
“It is very good of you to admit me," he said, in a
voice of much feeling. “I should not have ventured to


"IT CANNOT BE.”
257
mantel-piece, in which attitude his face was in deep
shadow while the firelight showed hers distinctly. How
pale and sad it looked, how pathetic her large eyes!
It was heartless of him, no doubt, but he had been
happier in those quiet interviews since the good old
captain's death, than at any other time during his stay
in England.
“I have,” returned Janet. “If I stay much longer,
I shall never tear myself away from this place. I feel
I am taking root here, and I have a dread of becoming
morbid and useless. Lady Darrell's invitation is the
best possible chance I could have of escaping from
myself; she is a delightful companion, so strong and
sensible, but never hard."
"I suppose she is very superior to her son, in-
tellectually?” said Maurice.
“I am not sure. I used to think so, but Lord
Darrell sometimes startles me by his keen power of
observation. At all events, he seems to have the wisdom
of a sound heart,” returned Janet thoughtfully.
“I have been paying you an unconscionably long
visit,” said Winyard, still resting his eyes on her pale,
expressive face. “But I have a strange reluctance to
leave you alone—quite alone, in this house,” glancing
round.
“Do not apologise for staying with me," she replied
with the gentle composure he felt so baffling. “I am
A Choice of Evils. II.
17


260
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
while the memory of the dear old man began to be a
pleasure as well as a grief.
Lady Saville only stayed a few days after her ar-
rival; she was in a fever to start, indeed Janet felt that
the postponement of her journey was a strong mark of
friendship and regard. Still, she was not sorry to be
left with Lady Darrell, who of all her friends and ac-
quaintances was the most congenial. There was no
topic on which she could not open her mind to the
shrewd, experienced woman who, as Janet had told
Winyard, was strong without hardness--tender, without
weakness.
After a couple of weeks of reposeful life, during
which they spent much of their time in the open air,
thanks to the lovely warm October, especially beautiful
in the soft Devonshire climate, Lady Darrell considered
it time to speak to her young friend of future plans.
"I want to leave England early this year," she
began one evening, after Janet had been reading aloud,
and they had paused to discuss some of the author's
opinions. “That attack of bronchitis last year was a
warning, and I want you to come with me, so pray
make up your mind, my dear. Pray hear me out! My
first reason for asking you is a selfish one-you will
be the greatest possible help and comfort to me; next,
it will be the best thing for you—you must take up
your life again, dear Janet. There are, I hope and be-


“IT CANNOT BE.”
261
I
lieve, many good useful years before you. Time will
heal your wounds; you are too sensible not to hope
and expect it will. Now a winter away from all sad
associations will help you more than anything else.
want to go to Palermo in November, leaving England
not later than the first week, and I want you to come
with me as my guest. You say you do not like to sell
your house, perhaps you are right, you will want a pied
à terre, but let it or shut it up. You are free, deso-
lately free, I grant, so come with me, lay up a store of
health and sunshine, and when you return, you will
take up your life and your pen with renewed vigour.”
“My pen,” repeated Janet with some surprise. “Why
do you suggest my pen, Lady Darrell?”
“Because I am aware how you use it. I attacked
Valentine on the subject—he did not deny my accusa-
tion. They were not badly done, those little descriptive
bits, and you will improve. Come then and gather
fresh material for copy; you shall have plenty of time
to scribble.”
“Your invitation is most tempting, and believe me,
I see the great, generous consideration for me which
prompts you. I have no one to consult, and I should
be unwise and ungrateful to refuse.”
“Well said,” cried Lady Darrell, highly pleased.
“Now I like that quick decision. We will set to work,
and make all our plans. I shall let you off a week of


"IT CANNOT BE.”
263
dined with the Bents, and two or three times Mrs.
Bent spent an evening at the Bungalow. But when
alone, Janet often forced herself to picture her future,
the probable current of life in the home provided
for her. Already the sharp surprise of the world-her
world — at her eccentric conduct had been blunted,
and the death of her father had helped to knit up the
ravelled skein of some friendships which she feared had
been severed—notably the Winyards. Both the Vicar
and his wife wrote to her after her bereavement with
the warmest sympathy, and perhaps nothing was more
soothing to Janet than this token of renewed regard.
She was resting one afternoon in the dining-room,
after a busy morning of "covering up" and "putting
away.” The old-fashioned couch was drawn up to the
fire, and a china bowl filled with sprays of fern and the
last chrysanthemums from the green-house stood upon
the table. Janet was tired-mentally and physically, and
had stretched herself on the sofa with a new book, one
of several sent her by the friendly editor, when Mrs.
Brown came in with a smiling face.
*Please, 'm, here's Captain Winyard."
Janet was on her feet in a second, and went for-
ward to meet him.
He seemed very grave, but had a certain satisfied
air, and a comparison between this composed, soldierly,
resolute-looking man, and the bright, affectionate boy
66


264
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
whose heart spoke so freely in his eyes, flashed through
her mind with the quickness and vividness of lightning.
She was very, very glad to see him and told him so
more in the tone of her voice than in words.
“Mary and I were talking of you last night,” she
said, when they had exchanged greetings, and Maurice
had taken a chair opposite to her. “She was wonder-
ing what had become of you.”
“I know I have been a bad correspondent. I have
been a good deal occupied, and it was only the day
before yesterday that I decided about the appointment
I spoke of to you. I have accepted it and must leave
England in January.”
“Indeed! I trust, Maurice, it is not only a good
position, but a stepping stone to something still better.”
“I think it is,” he said slowly; "at first it consists
chiefly of the command of a small frontier post and
will condemn me to a very isolated life, but I do not
fancy that will last long-
He stopped abruptly.
“I do not think you care much about society.”
"I am no hermit," he returned, and was again silent,
while his eyes dwelt on her with something sad, yet
tender in their expression.
“You saw Lady Saville when she was in Town?”
resumed Janet.
“Yes, I dined with her; she is a most agreeable,
>


266
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
she was
in the way of worldly advantages to offer, but Janet,
will you be my wife? With a new name in another
country, the past will be obliterated and—_"
He caught her hand in both his own,
trembling, she was greatly moved.
“Now you must hear me," she interrupted. “I am
infinitely surprised, Maurice. I never imagined you
could so far forgive what you consider my wrongdoing.”
“I could forgive you anything, everything,” he cried,
kissing the hand he held.
Gently shaking her head, she withdrew it.
“You might forgive now, for you are not in your
right mind at this moment. But, Maurice, the memory
of Randal Palliser's passionate tenderness, his assurances
that life without me was intolerable, is still fresh in my
mind, yet in less than two years he made me feel I was
an unprofitable burden. I do not think you would have
done that, you have a truer heart, a finer nature! Had
we married when I was young, Maurice, we might have
been very, very happy, and loved each other heartily;
but it is too late now, quite too late, the shadow of my
past would always come between us, you would never
trust me thoroughly, and I never could endure what I
do not deserve."
“Good God! Janet, will you turn from me for
such a fanciful idea, when—when you half confess you
like me?”


FRIENDSHIP.
269
CHAPTER XV.
FRIENDSHIP.
WINTER in Sicily was more delightful, physically de-
lightful, than anything Janet had ever yet known. It
was absolutely restful, and so entirely unlike her ex-
periences hitherto, that her thoughts were drawn away
from the past, by the absence of everything associated
with it. The softness and beauty of her surroundings
lulled her like some delicious opiate. Her knowledge
of Italy had till now been limited to the north, where
the Gothic element strengthens and hardens the life of
the people. Here the glow of colour, the luxurious-
ness of nature, the loveliness of the dark-eyed women,
heightened by their picturesque head covering, the
caressing smiles of the olive-skinned children, all was
more than Italian, showing the Greek strain inherited
from the old colonists.
Lady Darrell had been there before, and did not
care to repeat her sight-seeing, but she insisted on
Janet's taking time and liberty to wander at will.
“Steep yourself in the colour of the place,” was her
advice. “It will be a splendid addition to the treasures
of your memory, and you may never come here again.”


270
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
So Janet wandered and gazed, and admired the
grand old staircases and courtyards, the orange gardens
flecked with gold, the walls looking south reddened
with Bougainvillia, the summer flowers of England now
blooming in the gardens, and mocking at winter; the
dim, solemn churches, misty with the breath of incense,
the gaily-painted carts, their harness glittering with glass
and metal, decked here and there with fox-tails, and
joyous with their noisy bells; she delighted in it all,
and rejoiced in the chance of observing a life so
different from the earnest, active, neutral-tinted exist-
ence of her own cloud-wrapped, sober-minded land.
Lady Darrell had secured quarters in a villa close
to the town, once belonging to a noble family, and now
let in étages to winter visitors. Though somewhat de-
cayed, it was still charming, with a broad double flight
of shallow steps to the entrance, statues in niches, round
the inner side of the court yard, where peacocks strutted
and sometimes screamed, while pigeons wheeled, swooped,
or perched, cooing, on the roof over the wealth of Banksia
roses, heliotrope, and mignonette below.
Notwithstanding the difference of age between
them, Lady Darrell and Janet were excellent company
to each other. Intelligence struck a sort of balance
between them, it ripened the latter's youth and kept
the former fresh and keenly alive to present interests
and improvements. Then they enjoyed the same kind


FRIENDSHIP.
275
whether he would stay and escort her, or precede her
to England.
“Shall you remain with my mother, who speaks of
passing April and May in London?” he asked Janet
one afternoon.
They were sitting on the terrace at the back of the
villa, from whence they looked out over a lovely stretch
of country, open and wooded, and a glimpse of glittering
sea, all bounded by a range of deeply blue hills.
“I think not. I have a curious dread of London.”
“Why?"
“I scarcely know—yet that is not quite true—the
real reason of
my dread is, I suspect, the fear of meeting
Mr. Palliser.”
“You ought to have wiped him out of the book of
your remembrance by this time!"
“I have, Lord Darrell, more than I ever dreamed I
could. Still, I do not like the idea of meeting him face
to face."
“I suppose not! All that will pass away in another
year or two! There are few entries on the tablets of the
heart that can stand the obliterating effects of time."
“The earliest impressions last longest," murmured
Janet.
There was a short silence, then Darrell resumed:
"Then you are going to settle yourself in that pleas-
ant little Bungalow of yours at Beachurst?”
22
18*


276
A CHOICE OF EVILS.
You see,
“Yes, it is the only place in the world toward which
I have any home feeling!”
“I can't say I like the idea of your living there-
you'll be awfully lonely!”
“I do not feel specially lonely at home.
it is a home, a shelter--where else could I go?”
“Do you know I have come all this way to make a
suggestion on that head?”
“Indeed,” said Janet, raising her large soft eyes to
his with indolent surprise, “what is it?"
“That
you should make Woodlands your head-
quarters.”
Even then she did not catch his meaning, so utterly
unprepared was she for what was coming.
“Oh, you are very kind, but Lady Darrell does not
want me all the year round!”
“Perhaps not, but her son does.”
“What can you mean, Lord Darrell?”
She was
astounded, not embarrassed.
“I think my meaning is plain enough! I want to
persuade you to be my wife.”
“You amaze me!” she exclaimed.
"I thought you would be rather surprised. I took
great care to keep my designs dark!” he returned, with
much composure. “I knew you had had such an awful
lesson in the school of love and matrimony, that you'd
be likely to shy at the first advance--now do listen like


October 1894.
Tauch nitz Edition.
Latest Volumes:
(Continued from page 2 of cover.)
A Beginner.
A New Novel.
By Rhoda Broughton.
I vol.
A Bankrupt Heart.
The Newest Novel by Florence Marryat.
2 vols.
Thou art the Man.
A New Novel by M. E. Braddon.
2 vols.
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A New Story by Ouida.
I vol.
Pembroke.
A New Novel by Mary E. Wilkins.
I vol.
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A New Novel by Stanley J. Weyman,
Author of “A Gentleman of France."
I vol.
The Way they Loved
at Grimpat.
New Stories by E. Rentoul Esler.
I vol.
(Continued on last page of cover.)