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Gntered according to the Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the year ottd thousand eight hundred and seveuty-flvo, by Rooebb & Labminib, in the Office of the Minister of Agriculture. ■^ \ N SP,-^ J- *.«': «#' / THE / • vt BOUDOIR CABAL. 'fj^ \^^ ^%env^^e Mc^cA-oc^ TORONTO : ROGERS & LARMINIE, PUBLISHERS. 1876. *.', ^4 ^^\^ pr THE BOUDOTR CABAL. % ^0ijtl of %ttCtlT. BOOK I. CHAPTER I. ' INTRODUCES A PROMISINO PEER. Some three weeks before the opening of the Parhamontiiry Session, the Mom- ing Post announced that Viscount Mayrose had returned to London from his travels, and, as good hick never comes single, Society bocanio aware that his lordship had brought back a fine fund of handsomeness and an annising valet who fancied him- self a Count in difficulties. Such unmarried ladies as were too young to remember Lord Mayrose before his travels, looked up his case in the Peerage, and found what follows : — " Mayrose, Frederick Lyon Springfield, 8rd Viscount, in the Peerage "of the United Kingdom. Born 184-. Educated at Eton and Trinity College, Cambridge. His lordship is the only son of Charles, 2nd Viscount Mayrose, and of his wife Emily, sixth daughter of Sir Richard Leech, of Hampstead, Middlesex, formerly Commissioner at liaypore. Su* Lyon Springfield, Ist Baron Mayrose, was raised to the Peerage by Charles I., after the battle of Edgehill ; and Hugh, 7th Baron, croated Viscount in 1812 for his services in the Peninsular War. Residences : — Springfield Park, Hiveshire, 108 Berkeley Square ; White's, Patron 1 living." A man cannot well pass through Eton and Cambridge without leaving some traces behind him, and accordingly more than one of the unmarried ladies enquired of their brothers whether these latter had known Lord Mayrose, and if so what manner of man he was. Brothers being generally speaking stupid, the answers given were that Mayrose was a good feljow, who had been in the boats at Eton, and used to row " seven " in the 3rd Trinity crew; his weight must have been un- der lOst. 71b., and he had graduated 15th "Wrangler. Nothing could have been vainer than this information, and it was only after being diplomatically put straight that the brothers were brought to face the real question, which concerned Lord Mayrose's rent roll. As to this, ho%vever, the brothers could only furnish poor accounts. Mayrose was not rich : he might have £10,000 or ,£5,()06. There had been a smash, or half a smash, at some time in his family, and a few of the brothers ventured to imagine that he had nothing at all. Needless to say that the sisters would have somewhat preferred hearing that Lord Mayrose's circumstrnces were more elastic, even though he had never rowed in a boat or wrangled — for we are a practical people, who set light store by futiliti( s. Nevertheless, as all the brothers in London hurried off like a single man to drop tlioir cards at 108 Berkeley Square, it was supposed that this yoi;ug peer, who liud weighed less tJian lOst. 71b., possess- ed attractive qualities, and an amiable curiosity was excited aliout him. He was in truth very attractive — perhaps the most attractive Englishman who had ever set out in a hat bought at Cairo, a coat built in Vienna, and boots ordered at Baltimore, to call upon a solicitor in New Square, Lincoln's Inn. There was a sunlight in his eyes and a cheery smile under his light waxed moustache which won the heart of Mr. Deedes' clerk as it had that of the cabman to whom Lord May- rose tossed five shillings, and it presently warmed the soul of Mr. Deedes himself as he hastened forward with thin hands extended to greet home his client ; — " My dear lord, welcome again to England. It gives me the sincerest pleasure to see you back so safe and so well." " 1 am glad, too, to be home, Mr. Deedes," laughed Lord Mayrose, affectionately ■haking the lawyer's hand, and throwing a oiroular glance round him as if he knew the old room by huart. " It seems an age since I went away, yet looking at you I can think it was but yesterday." " Oh, my lord, five years are a heavy sum out of a shrunken purse of years like niinu ;" and the lawyer wheeled his client an ann-chair near the glowing fire. ♦* To you, however, who have abundance of years in store — u very rich abundance, I trust— the time has no doubt sped by like a holiday. " " Heigh ! well, not so much like a holiday as that," answered tho peer, sink- ing with comfortable enjoyment into the chair, and crossing hia feet over the fen- der. " The more I travelled the better I learned that there is no pla«;e like Eng- land, Mr. Deedes. The Turks did not cure me of home-love, no more did the Yankees." •' Siich is the impression which I myself have derived from foreign travel," meditatively rejoined Mr. Deedes, whose adventures as an explorer ranged from the Grand Hotel in Paris to the Hotel Bellevue at Brussels ; and he proceeded to clean his gold-rimmed double eye-glass with the tail of his coat, the better to scrutinize the young peer whom he had known from his childhood ard esteemed. He was an ancient and venerable limb of the law was Mr. Deedts. His fea- tures had not changed since his client's eyes had first beheld them somewhere about the date when Lord Eldon was Chancellor. The black swallow-tail coat he wore was part of his belief in constitutional safe-guards, like wigf. and costs ; and the rest of his apparel was shepherd's-plaid trousers, a black cravit which went twice round his neck and would have obligingly gone a third round if desired, a tape watch-cord, and low shoes with strings to them. Time seemed to have grown 8fraid of him in his augustness. It had marked no rude crows-feet under his eyes, and only cast a lictle additional snow into his hair now and then as if from powder- puff and afar. Lord Mayrose examined the lawyer at the same time as be was Leiug himself peered at, and with a Uke benevolence. It refreshed him to see this legal bulwi.rk of his property and family secrets in as good repair as a quick-set hetlg<;, and as he talked of the men and things he had seen abroad he came back frequently to this point, that he had met with no one who compensated him for Mr. Deedes. The solicitor lent a flattered ear to all this, and scanned the peer's remarks with an occasional smile, as if the foreigners described were so many harmless lunatics whom the Com't of Chancery indulgently suffered to be at large, and whose fated mission here below was to afford diversion to British noblemen and their solicitors. Then, when Lord Mayrose paused after a while, stretching his Baltimore boots more enjoyably than ever towards the coals, he said ; — •' And now, my lord, we may hope you have come back to settle down and take your proper place in society ?" " Yes, Mr. Deedes, if society cares to have me." " Of that there can be no shadow of doubt. But you will find society much altered — its rapid transformations sometimes bewilder me." " I knew so little of it before I went that I shall not be able to perceive the change," said Lord Mayrose. " I started, you remember, as soon as I had taken my degree — ^just a year after my poor father's death. But tiiat brings me to busi- ness, Mr. Deedes. I must not encroach upon your time wit'a so many other people waiting." Mr. Deedes bowed with a deprecating smile, and toucJied a hand-bell. " Lord Mayrose's papers," he said to the clerk who answered the summons ; and this clerk, who bad yellow hair, weak knees, and an appearance of having washed his hands in the inkstand, presently returned with a pair o/ crimson tin boxes, both mottled with red spots as if they had caught measles from each other. " I can never see those boxes without remembering the day when I came up from Cambridge to borrow a thousand pounds of you," remarked Lord Mayrose, showing his gay white teeth. " Do you recollect that, Mr. Deedes ? You refused me the money, though it was not for myself." •' Generosity was ever your besetting sin, my lord," paternally rejoined the lawyer, as if he had quite forgiven his olieut for having gone away empty-handed. ** You must Bee now that I acted wisely in protecting you from an extravagant young man who wished to abuse your nature. I trust you have ceased to bestow your confidence and money on all who ask for them." " A man can only give what he has, Mr. Deedes, and it seems I have next to nothing. How much is it n year — six thousand, three, one ?" It turned out to be five tliousand, but the circumlocutions by which Lord May- rose was made acquainted with the exact position of his affairH need not here be recorded. Rent receipts were shown him, renewed leases, parchment trusts, accounts of investments in Consols ; but the burden of theso tape-girt documents was that Lord Mayrose must not rely on more tlian £1,260 every quarter-day. He received this statement philosophically as ho twirled his Cairo hat. His father had been almost entirely ri.inod during the railway mania of King Hudson's time, and it had cost some trouble and not a little shrewdness to save as much as X'.5,000 a year out of the wreck. For this result, such as it was, the fam.ly were mainly in- debted to Mr. Deedes, who felt towards the Mayroses whom ho had saved that kindly regard which wo generally confer upon those whom we have extracted from a ditch. Lord Mayrose, who was an orphan with no brothers and sisters, was not extravagant, and the five thousand annual pounds had not diminished in his keep- ing : but they had not increased. He spent his income as regularly as it was paid him, and deemed himself quits towards mankind so long as he incurred no debts. He might, to bo sure, have added to his substance by letting his town house and country seat whilst he was abroad ; but this he had scrupled to do, and Mr. Deedes, though ho had expressed surprise at the resolution, had inwardly respected it, know- ing that it was prompted by filial motives almost pious. Lord Mayrose's fathers having lived and died for conturies under the same roofs, the yomig peer shrank from hiring the homes of his raco to strangers. For all wliich, relying on the busi- ness talents of Mr. Deedes witli the naive faith of those who understand nothing at all about business, he had liopfd somehow that his j£5,000 might have fructified to ^6,000 or i'7,0()0 in his absoiico. But Mr. Deedes explained to him that any enter- prises towards this end would have been singularly incautious. The firm of Deedes, Tarry & Ponder had made it a principle to mistrust investments bearing more than 8| per cent, interest, and they had found this principle work safely. Lord Mayrose had only .£5,000 per annum, but this income, drawn from corn-land, sheep, felled trees, and the Consolidated Fund, was stable as the globe itself — nay, much stabler. The conference lasted an hour, and then Lord Mayrose thanked Mr. Deedes. " Five thousand is not much, but I can make it do. Besides, I may possiVly work and earn more. There are posts under Government still to be had, I sup- pose ?" ■ " Yes, certainly there are, my lord," replied Mr. Deedes, surveying his client with revived interest. " If you devoted yourself to politics, it would be a career most worthy of you. Your distinguished abilities and the experience you have doubtless gathered abroad " " Well, well, we must talk about it some other day," interrupted Lord May- rose, reddening and smiling again with one of those pleasant smiles which looked like summer light to Mr. Deedes. " My only plans of ambition for the present are to get into English clothes again, and to see whether I have not forgotten the tongue of London drawing-rooms." Saying which he rose with a glance at his Austrian coat. " You are sure to be a welcome guest everywhere tins season, my lord," re- sponded the solicitor, rising too. " Heaven hear you, Mr. Deedes. Will yon come and dine with me — when shall we say ? Will Sunday do ? Wo can make' an evening of it discussing what I am fit for — if the topic doesn't bore j'ou." '' It will give me the greatest pleasure, and if my advice can be of any assist- ance to your lordship " " I should not think of taking any step without it," answered Lord Mayrose, heartily ; and with another warm shake of the lawyer's hand he wished him good- bye. Going out he dumbfounded the little clerk with yellow hair by dropping half- ■■i a-aovereign into his i iky fingern, then loitcrrd a minute on the landing to light a Cuban cigar, which perfumed tlie staircaHe for an hour afterwards. CHAPTER II. HIR HAM PKNNYWOUDLE. Lord Mavrose had not boon ^OQ^ fivo minutes before the yellow clerk, nome- what dishevelled by the gratuity he had received, admitted into Mr. Deedes' presence another important client who had been cooling; hi8 florid complexion in the square below, and who was none other than Sir Hum Pcnnywoddle, tho well- known warden of tho Saufiage-MakerH' Company. If London squared were managed on foreign notions of tho useful, Now Square would have been laid out as a flower garden open to tlte public, and it would have atTorded Sir Ham an eUgible bench or two to rest his limbs on until Mr. DeedoH were disengaged. But like many another square-garden in this enlightened capital, New Square, which none of the residents ever use, is prudently barred round with spikoH live foot high to keep sentimental intruders aloof; so that Sir Ham, who preferred fresh air to the muskiness of a soUcitor's waiting room, had been fain to pace up and down the Eavement, deriving such recreation as he might from the sight of precipitous clerks ugging bags, and stuff-gcwnsmcn rushing nowhere in a violent hurry. He was a great man in his way, and was not ignorant of the fact. Sprung from nothmg, he had raised the British sausage trade to a height never contemplated by the inventor of that wholesome delicacy, and it was his boast that he had brought the choicest saveloy within reach of the working-nmn. For these and other patriotic works, amongst which must be reckoned his indefatigable promotion of the Oyster-shell Joint Stock Utilization Company, from which he had cleared half a million pounds or so, Sir Hrm had been appointed to the office of Sheriff, then to that of Alderman and Magistrate, it being a notable axiom in these isles that a man who has weighed sausages successfully is eminent,Iy fitted to mete out justice. Sir Ham stood five feet two, and sportod a bordering of orange whiskers, which gave his face the aspect of a well-conditioned sun-flower. His eyes, which were grey, stood out of his head like marbles astonished at the height to which Sir Ham had risen over all those oyster shells and sausages ; and his hands were large across the knuckles, as if ready to grasp any new profits which might turn up to- day, to-morrow, or next week. Thus well-favoured, and replete with the con- sciousness of his own respectability, Sir Ham should have been happy ; but he was not 60, and we shall soon find out why. " Good morning, Sir Ham," said Mr. Deedes, advancing with a different kind of civiUty to that with which ho had greeted Lord Mayrose — a quiet civility, yet very deferential. •' Good morning, Mr. Deedes." And Sir Ham sat down all of a heap in the choir which the peer had vacated, and then g;*oaned out his words slowly, as if each of them were a shilUng, only to be parted with after reflection. " I have come about that Parliament business, Mr. Deedes. Wlien I bought my place in Hiveshire I thought it would be easy to get into the House of Commons for Hiveborough, and so did my wife. Well, it ain't easy." " I am sorry for that." " No, it ain't easy. Yet I ought to be in the House of Commons. I am just the man for it, so my friends say." " They are quite right, Sir Ham.'" "Aye," mused the Warden of the Sausage-Makers' Company, bringing doviu the plumpest of his forefingers on his right knee, as if he were going to fix a point which everybody had overlooked. "Ayel but the electors of Hiveborough don't think so. They say that if I don't get the support of Lord Mayrose, who owns most of the land about, it would be wasting my money to try. Now, as I said this morning at breakfast, I don't waste my money." " Lord Mayrose has just left me this minute, said Mr. Deedes." tint 'n't ms lis Sir Ham Pennywoddle lifted his round head with a jerk, and anorted g^ravely— " Was it that youn^ man with the cigar and the ourly-brim hat." " I presume so ; he has not been gone ten minutes." " Well, I shouldn't have thought it, Mr. Deedes," answered Sir Ham, as if he were a little scandalized. " Now, what kind of a man is he ? — do you mind telling me that ?" " You are sure to find him a most agreeable neighbour," replied the lawyer, after a moment'H hesitation. " Aye," stolidly echoed Sir Ham, bringing down his other forefinger as if there was a now point wantod fixing ; " but would he support me — that's tho rjueHtion ?" " May I ask what are your politicR, Sir Ham.' " Wliat are his'n ?" retorted Sir Ham, who occasionally reverted to the solecism of his earlier sausage days when excited. " I — I Upon my word I" and it suddenly occurred to M". Doedes that he had no knowledge of Lord Mayrose'H pohtics. If poUtios ran in the blood nn they now and then do in careful households, then the Viflcouut ought to liiivo been a Tory, seeing that his fathers and (rrandfatbers had been so oefore him. But these are days oi unuccoiintablu innovatioii <. r'n'ci.{n contagions, and the like. Lord Mayrose having been abroad might have limmud to run his opinions in new-fangled grooves, and Mr. Duodcs felt bound t> unfold this before Sir Ham Ponnywoddle, who hearkened with attention as " lie v ore on tpo Uencli dealing with a ca&e full of intricacy. "Then it's no use putting any poUartica of my own forwful till I just know how the wind )!j.:/ said Sir Ham, with judicious emphasis. " \ ai not particular myself as to which side of th<^ House I sit un, Mr. Deedes ; lor to tell the results of my 6' . '>rience both sides of tho House are exactly alike, and that's what my wife says. Only I've got a daughter to marry, and a son growing up, and for their sakes — it ain't for mine — I want to get into Parliament." " Supposing you call on L<»rd Mayrose ?" suggested Mr. Deedes. "Supposing you introduce me to him.'"' returned Sir Ham whose wits were singularly keen where the main chance was concerned. " I must ask his lordship's permission to do that, but I have no doubt that he will he delighted to make your accjuaintance," said Mr. Deedes ; and in e,) speaking he 'spoke his mind, for he had never met a nictn yet who would have been sorry to know Sir Ham. " It's agreed on then !" ejaculated Sir Ham, with a solemn kind of alacrity, as if he were clenching a bargain contracted before two witnesses. •' You introduce me to his ludship, and then we'll talk about the Parliament business. When can I have your answer, Mr. Deedes ?" " 1 shall see Lord Mayrose on Sunday, and I will send you a note on Llonday," rejoined the lawyer. "That's it," nodded Sir Ham, getting,' up. "And now I'll leave you, for further talk just at this present would be a waste of time. Business is business. Good day, Mr. Deedes." The interview with Sir Ham had not taken long, but it loft Mr. Deedes wrapped in a meditation which la.ste'ay the inseparable cigar he carried. " My lord, we took the liberty, " stuttered the Warden of the Sausage-makers, bustling forward with noticeable radiance. " I only regret that 1 was not at home to receive you," answered Mayrose, lifting his hat with the grace which went to the hearts of all the women he knew, and shaking hands with Sir Ham he advanced towards the ladies. " Lady Pennywoddle, my lord, and my daughter Mary — " Mary, Viscount Mayrose," said the knight, whose keen eyes it did not escape that the cigar which the peer had thrown away was well-nigh a whole one — a token of civility which puzzled him. " I see you were admiring my camelias," said Mayrose. " Will you allow me to show them to you !" and he turned the key in the lock. " I think my gardener is a little proud of his conservatory." " Pass in Jane — pass in, Mary ; it's very kind of your lordship" reiterated Sir Ham. " We were just enjoying ourselves in this beautiful place as a bit of com- fort after our troubles." * '* You will always be welcome. Sir Ham. But did I not hear Miss Penny- woddle wish for a flower ?" And breaking off" the fairest within reach he bowed and hrnOf") it to her. '^' K the way Mary Pennywoddle ivhen she rode home had a white camelia !• I i / , "ul why Mayrose on his way back to Elmwood later in the afternoon ' .. ( rr:- iiiore absent than when he had come thence in the morning. I',. 29 CHAPTER X. A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS. i It was a hazard that had taken Mayrose to Springfield ; but it waa not a haz- ard which made him say nothing to Lady Rosemary about his meeting with Mary Pennywoddle. Without being able to account for his reticence, he felt that he would keep his counsel on this subject even if he were talking confidentially with the Countess. There was a spice of ludicrousness in the chance that brought these Pennywoddles across his path at every corner. Sir Ham was beginning to appear to him in his dreams, and he was certain that he should blush if \ja.A.y Rosemar/ asked him, with her searching and rather humorous eyes, whether he had found Miss Pennywoddle pretty. For he had found her pretty, and his surprise had been considerable at encountering a girl at once comely and so unafi'ected under the protection of the Sausage-maker. However, Mayrose had for several days no opportunity of private talk with the Countess. Mr. Paramount gone, Lord and Lady Beaujolais, Lady Coralmere, and the Drone brothers remained at Elmwood, and a week was passed in festivities which it required all Lady Rosemary's leisure to superintend. As the family were to quit Elmwood at the opening of the session, the moment had come for liquidating the arrears of civilities due to small county folks ; and for seven days an interminable procession of magistrates, vicars, doc- tors, and mayors, with their feminine encumbrances, filed through the dining-room at Elmwood. Lady Rosemary was the more anxious to leave none of them din- nerless, as she wished Mayrose to pick up the broken threads of his acquaintance- ship with these sometime wearisome, but always useful persons. lu going to Springfield Mayrose had purposed to bring back with him the Blue- book ou that treaty with King Cocoanib. As is most just, Blue-books are sent regularly to Peers throughout each session, and some five hundred of them would have accumulated during our friend's absence, had not his butler sold them profitably to a tobacconist for three-halfpence per pound as soon as they became twelve months old. The volume on King Cocoanib, however, having been issued at the close of the past session, lay with leaves uncut, at Springfield, whither it had been forwarded from town with the rest of the luggage ; and Mayrose returned with it strapped on his saddle, being minded to study its contents at Elmwood, as Mr. Paramount had suggested. But this proved to be not so easy. Except dur- ing odd half hours in his dressing-room, and a winkful hour in bed before extinguish- ing his candle, he had scarcely ten minutes in the day at his disposal. Lady Coralmere, under pretext of conversing with him about his affairs, and giving him good advice, talked with him prettily for whole mornings about hers, and claimed a sympathy not possible to refuse for the deaf and hard lived Lord Coralmere. Romantic Lady -Beaujolais, who loved expeditions to tumble-down ruins, sandpits, and water-falls, would drive to these places of interest in a brisk pony-chaise, with Lady Coralmere beside her, and enlist Mayrose to sit behind and make them laugh all the way. With both ladies he had become a prime favourite at first sight. They educated him in the private chronicles of society, which gave him the notion that everybody and everything were just the reverse of what they were popularly supposed to be, and when he was out of the sight of these obliging instructresses then Zellie and Violet tugged at his sleeves, and were for taking him out to fish, visit, or follow the hounds. All this was charming enough, and Mayrose had too great a liking for ZeUie's and Violet's society not to court all occasions of enjoying it. But at the period we have reached it was just beginning to dawn insensibly upon him that, whilst his occasional assiduities towards Lady Coralmere — or rather hers towards him — caused a lengthening of the features of his friend Dolly Drone, so his unceremonious friendliness with Zellie jarred visibly on the nerves of Lord Hornette. This young Earl was all nerves. His impatient features had a trick of contracting into all sorts of frowning zigzags when he was crossed, and Mayrose too often perceived these uncomplimentary distortions on them. He had not forgotten the gallant words he had overheard behind the lilac trees, and he noticed that since that ride 8t) with Lord Hornette Zellie had left off caUing him Freddy. This would have been natural in any case, foa it was hardly possible or even desirable that a familiarity bom in childhood shourd continue now that he and Lady Rosemary's children had attained to what are often styled years of discretion, but might better be termed years of prudery. Still, Violet called him Freddy as before, nor did punctilious Lord Hornette urge any objection to it so far as she was concerned. Now as man u a whimful being, Mayrose wished somehow, without caring to explain the wish, that the heir of the Bumblebeighs had read his lesson on the proprieties to the younger instead of the elder sister. Things were in this pass when, two or three mornings after his excursion to Springfield, and before the prim little features of Mary Penny woddle had yet had time to grow confused in his memory, Mayrose on coming down to breakfast was waylaid by this younger sister, who was dressed in her riding-habit, and ran out from the library to stop him. Her well-cuL jacket fitted her as if she had been moulded in it ; and she had a light blue kerchief round her neck, and the rich clusters of her auburn hair were massed under a small hat and veil set atilt in the most knowing way imaginable. ' ' I have lain in ambush for you, Freddy, " said she, laughing, and putting the gold tip of her little riding whip on his arm ; "you must come and hunt with us , this morning." "But I am not rigged out f(jr hunting, Violet," answered he, surveying her with admiration as if she were a bright picture transferred alive from one of Her- ring's best sporting-cracks. " Oh, but it will take yoa no time to put on your things," she replied, holding up her long skirt, under which her tiny boots and one silver spur cculd be seen . " The hounds meet at Kingach se, and it's always the best run of the season. Then, you've given enough of your time to Lady Beaujolais and Lady Coralmere ; Zellie and I want to have something of you." , • . "Are not Hornette and Dolly going with you ?" "Yes, but Dolly Drone is no fun for me unless he should tumble off his horse, which he never does," pouted Violet ; "and as for Lord Hornette he speaks only to Zellie. Do come." Mayrose had no objections to offer to a proposal thus urged. His tailor had just sent him down a suit of hunting things, and his bootmaker a triumphant pair of tops, which it was a pity to leave idling on their trees. Besides, this roving Englishman had not hunted for so long that he was doubtful of the figure he should cut in the field, and, like a resolute fellow as he Avas, he desired to allay his doubts without much delay. " I think I'll obey you, Violet," said he, glancing at his watch, and only hesi- tating long enough to hear the invitation repeated ; "but if I get broken you'll have to bring home the bits." "You never came down in your life," protested Violet, incredulously. " Go and dress, and we'll wait breakfast for you. You're the same dear fellow as you ever were. You always do what you're told." So in an hour from that time Mayrose, in new red attire, was riding to meet on one of Lord Rosemary's bravest hunters. It was a tepid morning, of the sort dear to sportsmen, with a southerly breeze driv-ing clouds over the sky like flocks of grey sheep. Kingschase was too near to Elmwood to render a covert hack necessary, and on the road Mayrose was enabled to convince himself that he and his steed were likely to keep on good terms — a piece of conviction only procurable when the rider knows he is master of his beast, and not his beast master of him. Dolly Drone, who rode fifteen stone, and had a well-used coat, the dye of which, about the skirt, was as mashed cranberries, gave his friend sagacious hints as to how divers fences were to be taken in a stifiish part of the country for which the Kings- chase foxes had a predilection. " You see," said he, "it's just like riding down a staircase, for they are all drop-fences, and the further you get towards Kingschase the worse it becomes. That's why we call it such a good country." Dolly was glad of Mayrose's presence, for when riding with Violet he was bound by his chiv- alry to gallop by her throughout the day ; and this was tedious to his spirit, seeing 31 that he loved to pound along by himself at a pace not much slower than steeple- chasing. Lord Homette never left Zellie's side, and Mayrose'a presence or absence was a matter of no moment to him, for he could ride with the best, and when he had a lady under his charge he monopolized her. On this day, however, it seemed as if a spell had lighted on the two brothers, for at the minute of reaching the meet Lord Homette was suddenly seized with a cramp which made his face twinge, and shot out his right leg straight ahead of him like a railway signal. He was liable to these seizures, which in nowise daunted his pluck, but moved him to vigor- ous imprecations when there were no ladies at hand. Zellie reined in, and uttered a slight cry of alarm. " It's nothing," groaned the Earl, between two spasms, and making a gesture to allay Zellie's fears as she questioned him with concern. "It's that devilled pheasant at breakfast this morning," cried honest Dolly Drone, cantering up. " I told you last year, man ; it always plays tricks with you." " Just help me to get off, Doll !" gasped Lord Homette, shooting at his imag- inative brother a glance which would have riddled the latter right through had Dolly been susceptible to eye-artillery ; and Lord Beaujolais trotting up at that minute with a squadron of other sportsmen who had been attracted by the incident, they were all profuse in advising the Earl to walk about for a few moments, and to stamp his foot if he could, which, as it happened, he couldn't. He stood leaning with all his weight between Dolly's stout anna, and thumping splenetically at his thigh, which felt, he said, as if all the bones had got tied in a knot. Dolly repeated it must be the devilled pheasant, but some of the other riders had known tea pro- duce these effects, and Lord Beaujolais stated that nutliing suited him so well as a glass of claret before hunting. It was a scene full of anxiety. Btit meanwhile, the hounds had gone to work, and as foxes abounded they rapidly unearthed one, and started in pursuit. The " whips'' huskily bawled "Forrard, then 1" Lord Beaujolais, who had his Master's duty to perform, turned at the cry, flung the patient a parting word of cheer as one pitches sixpence to a beggar, and was no more seen ; and the other riders surrounding Lord Homette tossed him similar words, then scattered away in an instant, like so many red leaves in a high wind. " We can't leave you ; we will see you home," said Zellie, who suffered sin- cerely to see her cramped companion biting his lips in the racking effort to put his leg straight. But Lord Homette was too fine a gentleman to spoil sport — above all, ladies' sport. "No; please ride on, Lady Zell," he stammered, with a wry smile. "It's almost over now. Two grooms will take care of me." "It looks s') cruel to abandon you !" exclaimed Violet, whose chesnut mare was curvetting and straining towards the hounds, with nostrils agape. "I shall be all right in a minute, thanks, and I'll follow you," repeated Lord Homette, whose cramp now seemtJ in eflect to be subsiding. " Mayrose, please see to Lady Zell." And as Dolly Drone was renewing his lamentations about the devilled pheasant, his affectionate brother cut him short with an order which ad- mitted of no reply. They waited another miiuite to see that all danger was really past, and then, whilst the Earl was reviving, with a groom to hold up each of his elbow.", Mayrose, Zellie, Violet, and Dolly Drone galloped after the rest of the field, and galloped hard to make up for lost time. It has been said that Mayrose had done nothing in this way since his Cam- bridge days ; and hunting is of all games that in which a man is liable to grow most rusty from non-practice. Hunting requires a fabric of qualities of which nerve is the mere groundwork, for it is not enough to ride straight or to be well screwed to the saddle If a man cannot nurse his horse, gauge the amount of wind and muscle in him, and regulate his pace accordingly ; if he cannot put him- self into the animal's skin, breathe with his breath, and throb with his pulses, then a long run with a fast pack may bring him surprises more exciting than welcome. The Kingchase country was one which bristled with obstacles that to an average rider would have seemed vile, and to a foreigner downright murderous. The land a2 sloped as Dolly had said, and ia parts w&b so steep that a beer-barrel set rolling by -wonld have careered along by itself till stopped by one of the numerous staked hedges. Mayrose had never hunted over such a course before, and any experi- enced eye that had watched him start would have predicted small things of him, for, as in his driving so in his riding, he used up all the breeze in his horse, spin- ning him along as if his own 4»sh and courage were more than enough for the pair of them. However for the first forty minutes his sinewy hunter seemed quite con- tent at the prospect of affairs ; and Mayrose covered his ground splendidly, with Zellie at his bridle to smile to and encourage him. He had fancied — though on second thoughts he rejected the idea— that she had brightened at having to ride with him instead of with Lord Hornette, and at all events she appea^'ed more at ease with her old playmate than in the Earl's company. There was a lithe grace- fulness in her horsemanship which dazzled her ccmipanion. She flew over ht^dges like a bird, weighing not an ounce on the reins with her clever little hands. When flakes of wet clay from the ditches splashed uvor her habit, when the moist soil of ploughed fields thudded up in clouds around her face, when brambles seemed to clutcn at her and the wind to tear at her, she laughed merrily as if fear and she had never met. " Hold on, old man, your pace is too hot," cried Dolly Drone, drawing along- side of Mayrose, and with Violet close to him. Dolly Drone never shirked pace by himself, but he practised moderation with ladies. *' It's not too fast," panted Zellie, keeping her habit down with her whip to prevent it from ballooning ; and Violet, whose lips were apart, and whose eyes brimmed with the speed, cried, as her gambolsome mare bounded under her, " Don't check us ; we want Freddy to be iu at the death." But Freddy was not fated to figure at the death at this time, for the fox, who was an old hand, led the hounds a dance of an hour and twenty minutes, and long before his capture Mayrose's mount was out of the running. Dolly Drone and Violet, who had kept behind at first, choosing their line of ground scientifically, passed by them ; then others whom Mayrose and Zellie had overlapped and out- stripped came up smoothly and went ahead, till at length, Mayrose, to his confusion, saw himself with ZeUie at the tail of the field, and only the confirmed laggers behind. A few of those had dismounted and were examining their saddle- girths ; others thought their horses had cast a shoe —the old stories, in short, of men who have had enough of it, and Mayrose chafed to be in their company. He tried the spurs, but his horse only quickened in a floundering way, and at this juncture there came a sturdy hedge looming up, with signs of a ditch beyond. Mayrose, altogether breathless, threw a glance at Zellie's horse — " Can you take that hedge, or shall we turn off and look for a gate?" "I can take it," gasped Zellie, as audibly as the wind, which was making a jew's-harp of her little teeth, would permit. Her horse was in a better condition than Mayrose's, and besides, she was too eager to be prudent. Lord Hornette had never left her to decide these questions for hersetf. " Then I ought to do it," muttered Mayrose, doggedly, for he reasoned that what a lady's horse could do his ought to do, and with another dig of the spurs he bolted onwards to show ZelUe the way. The hedge though was a nasty one, and the ditch beyond even nastier. It would have been a stiff jump at the outset of a run ; with a tired horse it was a pure man-trap, and Mayrose's horse guessing the peril swerved abruptly, and turned tail. This was ominous, and should have warned Mayrose that an open gate is a good friend in need ; but he had that indomitable, yet not unkind, firmness which insists on obedient service. So without using the spurs, but patting his horse on the neck, he brought him straight again, and this time the noble beast rose, plunged desperately at the obstacle with all the remnant of strength in him, but was only enabled to clear half the distance. He came down splaslung with his fore feet on the ditch's bank, stumbled, and shot Mayrose half a dozen yards into the field beyond. Then rid of his load, he kicked bacK the mud and water and scrambled out, placidly. Mayrose was lying like a scarlet heap, and the fall had been heavy enough to knock aJl the life out of an ordinary body. But temperance, soberness, and S9 chastity seemed to have made his bones of india-rubber, for, though rudely shaken, he was not even insensible. Stumbling quickly to one knee, he raised his hands, and shouted to Zellie not to take the leap. He knew the spirited girl but little if he thought she would obey him in such a moment. She had seen him roll over on his face, and watching him try to rise perceived that he could not regain his feet, and was pressing his hand to his forehead. Without an instant's hesitation she turned, set her horse Hrmly at the break-neck fence, cleared it, and stood breath- less by Mayrose's side. Three or four labourers at work in an adjoining Hold had hobbled down a bank and were scurrying towards the scene of the disaster, and one of the number had valiantly run after the horse, who was shaking his ears peacefully with no thought of flying away. "Zellie! Zellie ! Why did you do that !" stammered Mayrose, still on his knees and with affectionate reproach, for he saw she was pale ;is the white collar round her throat ; even her lips were blanched. "Are you liurt, Freddy V was her only answer, as she rapidly dismounted •without any assistance, then ran forward and tried to raise him by herself. " No, no, thanks — only shaken ; but it was worse than a second fall tojsee you expose yourself like that." The labourers throwing up huge clods under their shoes had reached him by this time, and were setting him on his legs. One of them pawed him to see that there were no bones broken, " 1 am sure you are hurt, faltered Zellie, holding him under the arms, and trembling in every limb. " If you please fetch some water," she " entreated of the labourers, feeling at the same time in Mayrose's pocket for his flask. " There's my cottage hard by, mum," replied the man who was pawing ; " but there's nought the matter wi 'un. Come up, zur." There was in truth nought the matter. The cropper had been a sharp one, and Mayrose felt as if his funny-bone had been crushed, and as if needles and pins were tingling to his finger-tips ; also his head had a light sensation as though its root were gone. But after five minutes this giddiness wore off, and then propped up bj' Zellie on one side and by the countryman on the other, he found no difficulty in reaching the cottage. Here Zellie's anxiety should have decreased, but it did not, and the wistful expression in her eyes was very different to that which had come there when Lord Hornette had been writhing in his cramp torments. It flashed on Mayrose at this juncture that, in alluding some days belore to a mild gentleman — one Mr. Buttercombe — who had come to grief in some turnips, she had laughed derisivaiy at him, because, being only shaken, he had not climbed into the saddle agiiin and finished the run, for both Zellie and Violet were generally pitiless towards want of pluck. " That horse must think me a muff," shivered Mayrose, as the cottager deposited him in a Windsor arm-chaii". "T shall have to beg his pardon before riding him home." "Oh, but you mustn't think of riding him home!" exclaimed Zellie, almost sobbing, for she noticed that one of Mayrose's red sleeves was torn from elbow to shoulder, and she was putting her little hands into the rent to see if there was any blood. " We must send to Elmwood for a doctor and a carriage, and j'ou must lie down, Freddy. But perhaps there's a doctor in the village!" added slie, addressing the crowd of bumpkins around her in a supplicating tone. " No, come, ZelUe, I assure you I want no doctor," averred Mayrose, standing up unaided. " My elbow is only grazed. I shall feel like Mr. Buttercombe if you spoil me." " Oh, how can you speak of Mr. Buttercombe ! He was not hurt at all." Now Mr. Buttercombe had lighted on his hat, which had been crushed like a biffln, and the mud of many turnips had entered his eyes. However, when it was definitely seen that the rent in the coat-sleeve was the sum total of injury, and when Mayrose with a laugh struck out his arms obediently in all directions to prove that he had full command of them, ZelUe at last consented to be pacified. The cotta^ ?r'8 wife brought a mug of hot water, into which — her knowledge of remedies being naively British — she poured fall half of the brandy flask, and Mayrose was forced by Zellie to drink this fiery dram of comfort much against his will. The entire feminine contingent 3 M of tho village, with a clump of corduroyed boyn, had turned out to stare at the two horses which the labourers were hohlitif^, and the boyn wore flatteuiiiH their nosea against the diamoud panes of the cottiign caspnients to see how the " cove " fared. T() them the epiwode wan a welcome brouk in tl»e monotony of life, and di>nl»tleBB they regretted its premature! ending. Half an hoiu' after entering the cottage May- rose left it, thruHtJng a Hovereign into IiIh lidHt'n IuuhIh tt) pay for that mug of hot water; and having lifteil Zcllie into her Haddle lie sprang easily into his own, look- ing none the worse for what luul Ix'fallen him. Tliey were ten miles from home, and tho road, with itn wallini,' of tall hedgeH and pathside bordering of velvet grass, lay smooth and straight boforo thcui, with no tiiroats of further sensation for that day. For all whicli. May rose never forgot that ride home — ZoUio's watchfulness following liiui at every step, lier plaintive entreaties to him not to go fast, and the sudden blusli that sufTused her face when, reining in his horse in a by-lane, May- rose held out his hand to her with brotherly gratitude and thanked her for her solisitude. This was the first time she had e\er blushed with him. They rode on almost in silence after this, for though Mayrose endeavored to chat, there was a something between them which made conversation Hag. Zellie's nervousness seemed rather to grow than to abate as tho apparent causes of it di- minished ; and when they reached Elmwood she had become quite silent. But here an eventful incident occurred. Lord Hornetto was in the house, for he had not been able fully to shake oH" his cr.vmp till the hounds wore past catching, and BO had ridaen back and spent his morning, trying to amuse the three countesses, who — be it said in nowise to his disparagement — found his dry-cut remarks not quite a substitute for Mayrose's genial banter, Zellie walked hurriedly into the room where they were assembled, and, as if weakened by her emotion, sank down on the sofa beside her mother, and mentioned in a low tone that Mayrose had had an accident. Lady Rosemary had remarked at once that something was amiss, and she was beginning anxiously to interrogate her daughter. But Zellie left her cempanion to give the details of tho affair himself ; and Mayrose did so lightly, combating the too warm zeal of Lady Corahuoro and Lady Beaujolais, who clasped their hands, advising embrocations, plaister, bed, and everything else that dismayed sympathy could suggest. " I assure you it was a mere stumble," protested Mayrose for the fourth and fifth time, and with the despair of a man who feels he is becoming ridiculous from over attention. " But yuu had better see the doctor, Freddy. These falls are sometimes dan- gerous if not attended to," said Lord Rosemcary moving towards the bell. " Oh, no, it's nothing, Lady Rosemary," cried Lord Hornette, who was exam- ing the grazed arm ; " the skin's not off. I've hud a dozen tumbles of the sort myself, and they do one good — teach one to be careful." He did not speak unfeelingly — only in the tone of c. ipan who does not exag- gerate trifles. But as the words left his lips Zellie qu'vot .d from head to foot, rose from her seat and ran from the room. Hornette threw a keen glance at Mayrose. , CHAPTER XL ! ,• A NOBLE SUITOR. < 4 ' ■ i ' -* Lord Hornette had not invented gimpowder or even tooth-powder, but for all purposes of self-protection he was shrewd. The greatness of his name, the inter- ests of his fortune, and his own private comfort, were so many bones which his sole occupation here below was to defend, and when anyone stretched out a hand to these bones he showed his teeth. He also showed his teeth when he had set his mind on anything and could not obtain it with reasonable ease — though, be it noted, he asked nothing of nature in the way of a miracle ; he only wanted that whatever his birth, property, and particular whims entitled him to, that he should have, and indisputably. Before Mayrose had come to Elmwood it had been pretty generally noticed that Lord Hornette was growing sedulous in his attentions on 86 all ter- aole [ to his e it thai uld etty on Zellii) Carol ; and if thero 'ad been no ' \ resent case. ZoUio's abrupt Hight from the rooiu after the woids Lord Hornette had ut- tered about May rose's harmless accident, had been too mnrked to escape attention. Lady Coralmoro and Lndy Beaujolaia had obsurvod it, and with the rapid intuition peculiar to all ladioa in these atfairs, had taken in the situation as if a flash of lightning had suddenly come upon them. A minute of most awkward silence fol- lowed, for the blood mtjunted to Mayroso'a face as if ho wore guilty of something. Lady lloaemary cast him a glance not less (piick and keen than Hornette's, though it was not like the Earl's, a glance of jealouay and mistrust, but rather one of anxious amazement. She seomed to wonder what it would all moan, and to be too puzzled to fix on any plausible interpretation. Mayrose took the pretext of leaving the room to change his things, and thus put an end to the scene. Lady Beaujo- laia and Lady Coralmore, with ready tact, thought they should like a walk in the garden, and Lord Hornette, with equal composure, but with a private twitching of the upper lip which his brother Dolly would have detected to mean mischief, fetched his hat to accompany them. This allowed Lady Rosemary to go without delay to her daughter's room. Country liousea are strangely quiet at that period of the afternoon when all visitoi's are out of doors, and when the housemaids' work is over in the rooms. Tlie passages are deserted ; the sun falls with a mellow light into stray nooks where there is no one to enjoy it ; the fires in the bed-chambers are burning lazily and unstirred, like fires that will not be wanted for another few hours ; and every sound uf footfall or voice has an echo unheard in mornings. Before she reached Zellie's door Lady Rosemary caught murmurs which her motherly ear knew to be "tL'^ed sobbing, and stealing gently into the room, she saw Zellie standing with one foot on the fender, her arm on the mantelshelf, and her forehead resting on her arm. She must have taken oil' her hat brusquely, for her hair was unfastened, and fell over her shoulders, and she was holding in her left hand a handkerchief wet with tears. Her little frame shook with the violence of her crying, and when Lady Rosemary, after softly locking the door, approached her, and drew her without a word to her breast, Zellie nestled against her mother and sobbed long and silently. It was a full hour before Lady Rosemary came down stairs wearing a pale look ; and in the room where she had left her work she found Lord Hornette, who had been opportunely relieved of his attendance on the ladies by the return of Lord Rosemary from a magistrates' meeting. He was standing on the hearth-rug pull- ing at his sandy moustache with his slight fingers, and in his suit of gray tweed and dapper boots looked the image of a well-bred man with whom things have gone crossly. "I am afraid Zellie has been a little upset by Lord Mayrose's accident," said the Countess apologetically ; "but she will be better in the evening." *• I hope it has been nothing serious," answered Lord Hornette, with un- feigned concern. "No," replied Lady Rosemary, taking up her work and sitting down; "but Zellie has always been impressionable, and the danger of our friend was enough to shake her nerves. They were brought up a great deal together as children." Here there was a pause. " I was rather desirous of speaking to you on that subject, Lady Rosemary," said the Earl, in a tone that hesitated a little at starting, but soon became firm. He was still standing on the ru<;, and drew down his wristbands as if to emphasize his discourse. " The matter ir one of such moment to me that I will beg leave to allude to it at once." " Pray apeak, Lord Homette," answered the Countess, bending her lead. She pretended to work, but her heart fluttered, and possibly she much wished at that moment that some one would come in and interrupt the interview. No one did come. The destinies of life are constantly hanging on some one who might come and doesn't." "I desired to ask your permission and Lord Rosemary's to the taking of a step on which depends my future happiness ; in fact, to pay my addresses to Lady Azalea," coughed Lord Hoi*nette, with measured politenes.s. " I should have done this in any case, dear Lady Rosemary, before leaving Elmwood, but 1 think it may be franker to speak at once, in order that there may be no concealment on my part as to my sentiments — may I aay very respectful and devoted sentiments ? — towards your daughter." "Have you spoken to Azalea?" asked Lady Rosemary, rather by way of answering than because the question was expedient, for she felt in considerable distress as to a reply. " Nu ; I should not have ventured to do that. Lady Rosemary, before assur- ing myself that my suit would not be disagreeable to you." "It could not be disagreeable to me. Lord Homette." And yet if there be anything in the inflexion of words this reply ran wholly counter to its meaning. " Nor to Lord Rosemary ]" " Nor to Lord Rosemary, I am certain. We must both feel flattered by your attachment to our daughter." And here again was a negative inflexion which would have struck anyone less sure of himself than Lord Hornette. " Then may I. enquire — and pray forgive the question — whether there is any engagement of long standing between Lady Azalea and Lord Mayrose ? or whether the aflfection between them is of any other but a purely friendly kind ?" He had uttered this question in a deliberate tone, but with a deference which softened the asperity it had in his mind ; and Lady Rosemary, whose virtue of virtues was truthfulness, laid down her work, and albeit her distress was growing more and more, looked up at him candidly. " I believe that Zellie's affection for Lord Mayrose is nothing but that of a sister for a brother, and there is no engagement between them. They were children when they parted, and they can have had no time to form any attachment of a lasting character during the past few days. Nevertheless, Lord Hornette, I would scruple to answer for Zellie's sentiments further than to the extent I have mentioned. I only express a belief, and I may tell you that Zellie has confessed nothing to me. Supposing yoix wait a Uttle and form your own estimate of Zellie's feelings ? She is very young, and you are young too." •' I am of age to know all Lady Azalea's worth," answered the Earl with ready composure ; " but may I assume that I have your consent, Lady Rosemary, to pay my addresses ?" " If my consent is all that may be required, you have it, but I could put no constraint on Zellie, nor would her father venture to do, much as it might gladden him to have you for a son-in-law." " I should shocked to hear of constraint, dear Lady Rosemary. But if I have your ar tho: ty the question now lies simply between Mayrose and me ; and with your permission I will speak to Maytose." Saying which he approached, gallantly took the countess's hand and raised it to his lips. This interview had not lasted ten minutes, and had been conducted with such concise straightforwardness by the Earl that Lady Rosemary had given her answers under compulsion, and was truly dismayed on Lord Hornette's announcing that he was going to look for Mayrose at once. She had a yearning desire to see Mayrose herself, and interrogate him about all that had happened — above all to ascertain with her eyes rather than by actual questions if he reciprocated the love which had been betrayed, though not avowed, by Zellie. If he did not. then she thought that certainly Lord Hornette's offer was a godsend which might nip a one-sided attachment before it had taken lasting root ; but if Mayrose had come to her and confessed that he loved Zellie she Would have given him her daughter with a gladness ail the greater, as this union was one which she had never dared dream of — so recent was May- 37 rose's return, and so filial the relationship which he held in her eyes. She had it on her lips to beg Lord Hornette would defer all talk with Mayrose until she had seen the latter herself — an unreasonable request, but one suggested by the utter suddenness of these events, and her consequent bewilderment. The Earl, however, in love matters, as in all other matters, acted promptly, and he left her no time. He walked out of the room with the air of a man who could not dine comfortably unless this affair were set at rest. CH iPTER XII. The affair was not set at rest before dinner, but it was advanced a s^iage. With a quick resolution which gave him all the advantage in a situation where everyone else was more or less flurried. Lord Hornette went up to the rooms which Mayrose occupied in a remote and quiet wing of the house. They were large and cheerful rooms, which the pet of the family had always tenanted as a boy, and they had been fitted up lor his return with a loving care by Lady Rosemary and her daugh- ters. In the sitting-room Mayrose had found numerous knick-knacks which had amused him in former days, and some pen-and-ink sketches of himself, done by Zellie, who still retained a talent for good-natured caricatures, hung, signed, and framed, on the walls. The principal room, where he had read during hoUdays for many a school and college examination, was lighted by two spacious windows com- manding a grand view of the park, with its dark masses of foliage, branching rook- eries, and ornamental lakes with sloping banks, down which the deer came to slake their thirst ; and in clear weather distant Hiveborough could be seen glinting like an opal city under the bright sky. Beside one of the windows stood a writing-table, and on it lay the Blue-buok about King Cocoanib, with an annotated map of the whole Cocoa country, where Her Majesty's forces were warring ; and if Lord Hor- nette had lifted this map, he would have come upon the works of Bentham, Comte, and Stuart Mill, for Mayi-ose studied politics as he had learned mathematics at Cambridge — that is, with the ambition of mastering all the lore of the crooked science. But Lord Hornette was in no mood for lifting up maps. The school friendship between himself and Mayrose dispensed him from ceremony, so he simply knocked at the door and walked in. Mayrose had taken off his hunting things and bathed his arm, and was standing with liis back to the fire. He was dressed for dinner, with the exception of his coat, which lay over a chair, and instead of it he wore a Peruvian dressing-gown, striped in white bands blue and yeUow, like an awning. His face was serious, and he had been wrapped in deep contemplation when Lord Hornette aroused him. " I have come for a moment's private talk, old fellow, if I am not intruding," said the Earl, who could not help throwing a glance at that wondrous dressing- gown. " By no means, sit down and have a umoke," answered Mayrose, wheeUng him an arm-chair. Lady Rosemary had stipulated he should smoke in his rooms to his soul's content so long as it did not injure him ; and he made rather an unstinting use of the privilege. " Thanks ; they look capital weeds. Branded for you, I suppose ?" " It would be the correct thing to pretend they wore ; but the truth is when I visited the factory at Havana all the workmen were rut for a day's sport upsetting the Government. I got these in the States." " A Yankee's cigar is the finest thing in him," i eniarked the heir of the Bum- blebeighs, ensconcing himself in the chair and accej ting a lighted match from May- rose ; after which preface he pvitfed a wliiff or two, then began roundly, " 1 am afraid what I am going to say may not be very welcome to you ; but it's no use beating about bushes when one's in earnest. Then you and I are old friends, and J want us to remain so." At which juncture, had the two 'oeen foreigners, they would have shaken hands ; but being English each nodded. " It comes to this," proceeded the Earl, flipping the ash oft' his cigar ; " be- fore y anchor on a piece of carpet representing a yellow tulip on a blue ground, and his nostrils blew out as if he were going to snort. " You are not going to try for the seat ?" he muttered, dribbling out his words with a blank amazement, heightened by the uneasy suspiciousness of something not visible, but likely to explode by-and-bye, Mr. Dexter had reseated himself, on a dumb request of the knight's, ** No. You have coxmty influence, and I have none ; you will probably be supported by Lord Mayrose, and I shall have no support, for I was only elected last time by a hazard. A contest would be a useless expense to me, and a needless annoyance to you. That is my position." " You are very good," grunted Sir Ham, not knowing what he said, but sink- ing into a chair, and drawing his handkerchief to mop his hot features. He required a minute or two to rally his scattered thoughts, and the better to do so, ended by spreading out his handkerchief across his knees, as if he particularly wanted Mr. Dexter to admire the pattern. Suddenly he paused in the act of mutely demonstrating that all the patterns were alike, and inquired in a guarded tone, " Then am I to understand that the seat's safely mine ?" " So far as I am concerned you have no opponent. I believe a Mr. Howie is coming forward, but he can be of no danger." 47 " Ah, there's a Mr. Howlo !" ejaculated Sir Ham, with a wid«-awake look in his eyes, as if here were the somethinu he had been sniffing. " Who's Mr. Howie, sir ? " Sir Ham often addressed neopTe as "sir " in heated moments. "Nothing to speak of," smiled Mr. Dexter; "but have you not seen the ;- iper ? I think I have a copy with me." And setting his hat on the floor he drew a Hioebo rough Bee from his pocket and laid the sensoticjnal paragraph of the morn- ing before Sir Ham. To have beheld Sir Ham clutch this periodical, and bring his salient eyes to bear on it at f they were going to jump through the paper, would have been a refreshing sight to any man. It took him but slight reading to see that Mr. Howie would be a harmless antagonist ; but he perused the paragraph a dozen times for his own satisfaction's sake before he returned Mr. Dexter his paper ^ then he smoothed his thighs with both hands, and delivered himself anew — " It seems to me, Mr. Dexter, you're behaving handsome." "Say sensibly," laughed this gentleman, wi'h a deprecating gesture of his left dog-skin ; but if Mayroae had been present he would perhaps have noticed in Mr. Dexter's eyes a humorous twinkle <>f satisfaction. " I call it handsome," dogfjedly repeated Sir Ham, as if his faculties were gra- dually awakening to the recondite aspects of things ; " it's handsome, Muster Dex- ter, for there's no saying but you might have beaten me." " I do not think so ; but even if I had, I tell you frankly my victory might have embarrassed m"*. I came forward originally rather for amusement and for exercise in public speaking ; but the House of Commons is too expensive for a man with no income. In ten years' time, if I pick up practice enough at the Bar, I may have a try again." " I heerd you were at the Bar, Mr. Dexter." And Sir Ham took stock of his visitor, beginning with his boots, which were (»f polished leather, and going up to his hair, which was parted down the middle — hair neither lank nor curly, but clever hair, keeping its place as it had been brushed. " Yes ; and it's a current impression that a young barrister who gets into Par- liament is much run after by briefs. But the briefs would not run after me, as I have taken two years to discover." " If I ever "have a suit at law— which I shan't, for I don't like lawyer's busi- ness — you shall defend me — I mean, speak for me," exclaimed Sir Ham, with cautions but resolute emphasis. " It strikes me you're a sharp young man, though it mayn't be manners to say so." Mr. Dexter rose laughing. " ("Jandidates' moments are always valuable at election time. Sir Ham. I called in order that there might be no doubt as to my unequivocal withdrawal, and I have only to add now that if I can be of any service to you in addressing the electors in your behalf, you will tind me ready. I have put up at the Springfield Arras. " "You'll speak to the electors for me ! Stop !" cried Sir Ham, whose surprise now took the form of apoplectic excitement. "Dang me, Muster Dexter, if you ain't acting like a gentleman ! If you are going to speak for me to the electors you'll come and stop at my house, not at the inn. Blow it ! My servants shiJi g') over and fetch your luggage. Don't say no." " This is too kind, Sir Ham. It would be a great intrusion in me." " Intrusion ! who says so ? It'll do me good. Those electors will know we've become fast friends ; and it'll do you good, for we'll take care o' you and make your stay pleasant. Come along and see my wife and daughter." Again it might have struck a physiognomist that Mr. Dexter yielded rather promptly to Sir Ham's proposition. Beyond his first few words of protest he ad- duced no objection, and it was with a- demeanour eminently cool and a step quite ready that he followed Sir Ham into the morning room, and suffered himself to be presented to the ladies. " Sir Ham is embarrassing me with his great kindness," he said urbanely to Lady Pennywoddle. " Kindness ! Why he's just given me his seat in Parliament, and he's going, to make speeches for me !" yelled rather than answered honest Sir Ham, and. 48 Btraddling towards tho l)ell ho puUod it. " My dears, I shall go into Hivehorough now to see about tho printing of tUoni addrosses, and^call on Lord MayroBo hoforo doing BO just to soo whicli addreas htj likos best. Miistor Doxtor, will you stay with tho ladioH till I cotno back ? We'll have your luggage over in the afternoon." " 1 will stay with pleasure, but 1 am afraid 1 shall bo terribly in Lady I'enny- woddlo's way," replied Mr. Dexter, appealing to tho elder lady, but glancing at Mary Pennywoddle. " Don't talk about being in the way, Mr. Dexter," said Lady Pennywoddle, with matronly good nature. "We'll have tho blue room got ready — oh, Ham, dear V " Wo are always pleased to see papa's friends,'' added Mary Pennywoddle, candidly. Tho fact is Mr. Doxter's arrival had come upon them, as it had on Sir Ham, like a lump of gold on the head, and they did not know what to make of it, or what to say. CHAPTER XV. M. I*. FOR HIVJ.BOROUGU. Mr. Quintus Dexter remained at Penny until Sir Ham P jnnywoddle had l)een duly elected to servo Hiveborough in Parliament. It surprit-.- ' everyone to see this puzzling young man retire from the contest and speak in Sir Ham's favour at a public meeting convoked in the Town Hall — tho more ho as his speech was singu- larly fnank and good-humoured. Nobody wt>nt away with the inipresBion that Mr. Dexter had been paid a sum of money for retiring, as is generally the notion when a poor candidate .sviddenly makes way fur a rich one ; and no one accused Mr. Dexter of having treated the borough unceremoniously. The electors accepted Mr. Doxter's own versi(jn of his case. He had thought he could attend to his profes- sion and to Parliament at the same time, but found he could not. At some future epoch, when he had earned a silk gown and got more briefs on his hands than he could possibly deal with — (here ho laughed, and all tb(> audience laughed, cheering him) — then ho might rnurt Parliament again as a relaxation ; meanwhile he thanked his ex-constituents for teaching him what most other people had known before — that one man cannot drive two coarlies together. The electors acce]^ted this expl.mation, and yet they were surprised ; for though it was a fact that Mr. Doxter had been wonderfully in earnest about his Parliament- ary duties — never missing a sitting, and speaking as often as the " Whips " would let Mr. Speaker " catch his eye " — nevertheless connoisseurs like Mr. Grindle gave him credit for being able to drive any number of coaches together. As for Mayrose, on reading Mr. Dextor's speech in the Hiveborough Bee, he murmured, " This is a knowing fellow; we have not heard the last of him." Personally, he heard of Mr. Dexter very soon, for this gentlemen had learned from so many moutli? that Lord Mayrose had intended supporting his candidature, that he went as an act of grace to thank the owner of Springfield, and to give him a private statement of his reasons for retiring. " I am sorry you have withdrawn, Mr. Dexter," said Mayrose, candidly. " When Sir Ham Pennywoddle came to me the other day I felt bound to tell him that if you had stood against him you should have had all the assistance I could give you." " I am very much flattered and touched by this mark of your confidence, my lord." "Well, we are both 'Varsity men," answered Mayrose. "I do not quite understand your politics, but an Oxford first-class man would have done more hon- our to our town, and have rendered better service to the country, than an enriched tradesman." " At all events. Sir Ham's election will count as a gain to Mr. Paramount, for I voted as an Independent." " I am not enough of a party man to appreciate this blessing, Mr. Dexter," 4I» said Mayroso drily. " Sir Ham may vote well enmiRh ; but should you over wi*h to contest Hivoborough again you may rely on my help — that is, unlewa a candidate of equal ability with yourself cumo forward, in which case I should of course give the preference to the man nearest my own color." This promise placed Mr. Doxter on a very strong footing at Penny, for ho con- trived in a jocular manner to make Sir Ham acquainted with it ; and the knight, fooling that he should hold his seat only on sufferance, as it were, and so long as it pleased Mr. Dexter, naturally hiid himself out to secure this young barrister's friend- ship. He would have taken kindly to him in any case, for Oxford men did not abound on Lady Pennvwoddle's visiting-list, and such few of them as Sir Ham knew uid not treat him willi that comforting deference shown by Mr. Dexter. The ox-M.P. raised Sir Ham in his own esteem. Instead of speaking to him in that queer jingle of persiflage which the Warden of the Sausage- Makers had often noticed in clever young men from the Universities, and which made hiiu feel vaguely that ho was being mystified 1)V them, Mr. Dexter listened to him respectfully as to a great oracle of tlu' iinancial world. He assented to all the city magnate's remarks ; complimented him sensibly on the benefits conferred by the wholesale utilization of those oyster-shells ; and, withal, introduced his own knowledge of men and things with tact enough to remind Sir Ham constantly that it was no mere htripling fresh flora college who thus burned incense under his nose, but a rising man who had enjoyed the best education which England could afford, who had sat in Parliament, frayed with statesmen, and who, either as a politician or an advocate, would certainly end by leaving his mark on society. The upshot of all this wus that in the course of a few days Sir Ham waxed confidential with his guest, went into statistics about his oyster-shells, and began to take a budding interest in a scl mo of Mr. Dexter's for launching u new review or newspaper. With men like Sir Ham there is no medium between the extreme of suspiciousness and that of blind trust. Tlie sausage maker had passed all his life thinking that men wanted to over-reach him, and ho ad so studiously put himself on his guard, that — without meaning it, let us be sure -he had generally over-reached his neighbours. Tiiis is what the world calls ex- perience. But the experience which makes one sen in ivery hum.m being a possible vogue melta at contact with a man who asks for nothing, renders an unhoped-for service, and tickles the innermost fibres of one's heart with flattery the most skilful and repeated. Perhaps, too, a man who has thriven on mistrustfulness, got all that is to be had out of it — that is money, for it yields little else — grows tired of it in the end, as we do of many things on which wo have fattened ; and then he pines to livvish the pent-up store of his confidence on somebody, and the first trustable per- son who comes in his way has the luck of a man who passes under an overladen tree at the time of windfall. This had been Mr. Dexter's lot. There are particular men whom Providence singles out for windfalls ; and Mr. Dexter would pleasantly boast that he had always chanced at college on facile examiners, in politics upon open-armed constituents, and in such raffles and lotteries as he had occasionally subscribed to upon none but good tickets. Now Sir Ham warmed to huu, and the knight's confiding regard attained its full expansion on the evening when seven hundred and three electors of Hiveborough declared that Pennywoddle was the man who should sit for them at Westminster. The election was a very tame affair, for that objectionable Mr. Howie only mustered twenty votes. There was no carousing or horse play ; no cats were thrown, no brass bands or banners patrolled the streets. The electors skunked into a labyrinth of wooden boxes and dropped their votes through a slit as if they were ashamed of them ; then slunk out, looking sheepish, like men who would have no defence to offer if anyone taxed them with having voted against their troth. At four o'clock the poll closed, and a dozen flustered policemen came up in batches of four from three different parts of the borough carrying the ballot-boxes to the Town Hall. There the mayor having counted the papers and turned them back upwards, with a cluster of citizens around to watch him and see that he put none of them in his pocket, made an addition sum on a piece of paper; and a retuming-officer having verified the sum by counting all the papers over again, as if he profoundly distrusted both the mayor's arithmetic and his capacity for telling the truth, at last 4 60 announced Sir Ham Penny woddle's triumph out of a window to a by no means sur- prised mob that had gathered outside the building. Some young gentlemen from the fn^ammar school, who wore yellow tassels to their college caps, and had just been let out of class, set up a cheer and plied their satchels over each other's heads to get up the semblance of an excitement ; but the public commotion went no farther. Sir Ham's mourning dispensed him from attending a festive dinner which his committee-men held at the Springfield Arms, so having made a speech frem the balcony of the house, and promised Mr. Grindle the hostler, Mr, Touzle the pho- tographer, and the rest of the mob, as also the grammar-school boys, that he would defend our ancient Constitution, the Established Church, and the interests of Licensed Victuallers ; he shook hands with numerous persons he had never seen before, sprang into his carriage with Mr. Dexter, and was whirled home to the congratulations of Lady Pennywoddle and Miss Mary and to dinner. It was an overcooked dinner from having been kept waiting, but Sir Ham's contentment left him no palate to be critical. He repeated six times: "1 shall have to get some black breeches, Mary, to dine with the Speaker ;" and when he was left alone over his wine with Mr. Dexter the vanity of his new-won title of M. P. seemed to fume up into his head with the port ; and his gratitude bubbled up along with it. "Look 'ee here, Dexter," he said, for the first time discarding the ''Mtister," and putting up both his legs on a chair, " you've made a man o' me, and I shan't be easy until I ve done you a good turn too." " You owe me no thanks, Sir Ham, 1 assure you. I must have been beaten if I had gone to poll." "No you wouldn't," answered the knight obdurately. "Help yourself to some o' that port. I know how the facts are. Lord Mayrose would have stood by you, and 1 don't wonder at it, for you are an educated young chtip like him. Then I expect he feels a bit sore at my havin' some of his old esta,tes, for he ain't had time to see that I want to do him good." " He is too straightforward to think you could wish to do him harm," answered Mr. Dexter, adding nothing to this reply, but listening with a curious attention to what the "Warden of the Sausage-makers said next. " Aye, but that's not what I mean. I'd do him more good than he thinks for," rejoined the knight mysteriously ; after which he suddenly lapsed sad, and made plaits on the napkin that lay on his lap. " It was a great trouble to me when my poor Mike died. Dexter. I'd have got into the House of Lords for his sake, and he'd have worn his coronet with the best o' them. But now its my Mary who'll have this place, the lands an I evei7thing I have. There's many a dook would be glad to marry her, Dexter," and he sighed. " But we A talk of something else just now," added honest Sir Ham, blinking, " for I've not grown out of feeUng yet that poor Mike may come in at any moment and sit down in his old place — there where you are sittin'. I want to know what I can do for you." " You have given me a very agi-eeable week's holiday, Sir Ham," replied Mr. Dexter, perhaps not much relishing the possibility of Mike's sudden arrival, " which I much wanted, for I had been running about for a montu on afatigiiing business — collecting information about a paper I want to found." "Aye, you've talked to me of that paper," said Sir Ham, with grave interest; " tell me all about it." " It's a paper of quite a new sort," answered Mr. Dexter, but without showing any of the suspicious eagerness pecuUar to scheme promoters and inventors. "It's a paper we want much in England, and I think there's a fortune in it. The name would be the Reporter and Low Court Gazette, and it would be wholly confined to legal news and reports. There are some law papers now, but they are like weekly reviews, and circulate only among professional men. The Reporter must be a daily penny journal, of the size or" Lhe ordinary dailies, and appeal to all classes of read- ers. You know what attractions assize news and police reports have for most of the public : some people read nothing else in the papers." " I always read the police news and criminal trials," assented Sir Ham, whose interest increased. " Just so. Well, the Reporter would treat of these topics in a more thorough 61 name med to weekly a daily read- nost of , whose orougb way than is possible to the average papsrs, who have to deal with politics, com- merce, art, and everything. The French have a daily law-paper, the Gazette des TribuvMtix, which has been a great success from the first; but I should aim at doing greater things on the grander scale which distinguishes Enghsh journalism. The Reporter would give the fullest accounts of the police-court cases, the assize trials, the law-suits at Westmirs^ jr and Lincoln's Inn ; pubUsh letters from foreign correspondents relative tc impc-tant trials abroad ; and above all, print three or four well-written leaders a day to elucidate points of law, explain and criticise judg- ments. The paper ought to \/ield immense influence, if well conducted, and I should try to engage barristers and sohcitors of the best proved ability to write for it. If my plan were reaUzed, people would go to the Reporter for the most authen- tic legal records as they go to Hansard for Parliamentary debates ; and judges, lawyers, and suitors would learn to respect it as a high-class authority. As one of its subsidiary objects, the Reporter would, of course, adv(.cate necessary reforms in law and procedure, and urge the necessity for codifying our numberless and intri- cate Acts of Parliament." "And how much would it cost to start this paper?" asked Sir Ham, in a dazzled sort of tone. *' It requires about thirty thousand pounds to set a London daily paper fairly going, and other ten thousand to fall back upon," answered Mr. Dexter, cracking !s walnut. " I have two or three thousand pounds myself, and shall be able to get about a dozen of my friends to risk from two thousand to five thousand each in the enterprise. We shall make a joint stock thing of it, with limited liability." There was a moment's silence, and Sir Ham leaned forward. " Well now, Dexter, I'll tell you a better way than that," he broke out, taking his legs off the chair, and centrlag his round eyes on the barrister. " Supposin' you just let me and you do this business between us, friendly like ? I'll find the money, and you set the paper working." " Your offer is extremely generous, but I am afraid I dare not accept it, for I cannot guarantee the success of the paper," laughed Mr. Dexter, with great honesty : " and then, supposing I failed with my friends we should each lose our money, and there would be an end of the matter ; whereas if I dragged you into a bad venture 1 should owe you forty thousand pounds, and should have the misery of feeling that I could never repay you such a sum." " Aye, if you failed, but if you did, I shouldn't be beggared for forty thou- sand pounds, my lad," answered Sir Ham, with a touch of city pomp, smileless and wheezing. " But I know you won't fail — you've just the stuff in you that I had when I set up in business. Vou've behaved handsome to me, too, and I don't care who hears me say it." Mr. Dexter nobly combated Sir Ham's grateful wish to be his partner, and left none of the hazardous aspects of newspaper ventures unexposed. He even douV < d whether his sense of indebtedness to Sir Ha.o would not paralyse that reckless nerve which is needed by those who embark in great speculations ; and this was the more disinterested of him as — be it said at once — the twelve friends who were to assist him with sums of from two to five thousand pounds eaoh were evolved, the whole dozen of them, from his iuner consciousness. But the more he sought to dissuade the knight, the great -r was the latter's obstinacy— a smooth, holdfast obstinacy — in desiring to help tnuip the Reporter. Sir Ham was not so tenacious of his gold as to object to occasional speculation, nor so dead to the love of profits as not to prefer a good speculation to a bad one ; and this speculation — he knowing nought of newspapers excej^t that they paid well when probperous — had the chink of good metal in his ears. If, therefore, it succeeded he would have had the gratification of being generous on remunerative terms — which may be called charity with a winning smile. There were other considerations to which the red port lent prismatic tints, such aa the social power which the possession of a great newspaper confers and the benefit: that might accrue from tying up to his fortune by such a chain as forty thousand poimds so able a man as Mr. Dexter. The barrister might become his benefactor's ally and doughty friend, upholding him through future elections as he 52 had done through this one ; and it may have been this which moved the new M. P. to eloquence. Anyhow, in the result, though by degrees, Sir Ham was enabled to overcome Mr. Dexter's scruples. Thereon, flushed by argument and wine, he cov- enanted that a deed of partnership should be drawn up making of this unborn Reporter three shares, valuable at twelve thousand dollars each, whereof two were to be his, and the third Mr. Dexter's, with power to the latter to buy up one-fourth of Sir Ham's two shares (so as to become half partner) at any time within ten years on payment of six thousand pounds, with compound interest at five per cent. Sir Ham was never slothful when there were figures flying about. He rang the bell for pens and paper ; and when the butler returned an hour after bringing these things to say that tea had been served in the drawing-room, he beheld Sir Ham with his coat ofl" -for it was hot — and perspiring over the fifteenth clause of his draft, while sheets already written on were littered among the dessert-plates. '* If either of the partners should disagree about any of these here clauses," stammered Sir Ham. " But they won't disagree, eh. Dexter ? What is it 1" and the knight miide a blot. " Her ladyship sent me to say that tea was on the table. Sir Ham," sa «he butler. " But it ain't half-past nine yet," growled Sir Ham. It was in truth half-past ten, but Mr. Dexter had been so taken up with Sir Ham and Sir Ham with Sir. Dexter, that neither had watched the minutes go. So the young barrister now suggested that the draft should be drawn up when they both went up to town by Mr. Deedes, of New Square, and this being acceded to they adjourned to the tea-room. "Jane, Mary," ejaculated Sir Ham, trotting in behind his guest, "Muster Dexter and I are partners ; we're going to found a newspaper together." " Deary me, Ham !" exclaimed Lady Penny woddle ; but Mary, busy with the sugar-basin and tongs behind the silver urn, dropped lumps into the cups, and made no remark. " You don't say nothing, Mary," ventured Sir Ham from his arm-chair. *• What is it you most read in the noospaper, my dear ?" " 1 don't often read the papers, papa. When I do it's the accidents and trials," answered truthful Mary. " Well, my dear, ihis'U be a paper chokefuU of trials. It'll be like a novel. It's Dexter who's invented it." " Mr. Dexter is very clever," said Mary, beginning to pour out the cream. ' w CHAPTER XVI. * * • " "what IS A GENTLEMAN ?" ' Now a foreigner contended that one hundred and fifty sentiments could be expressed in a kick ; so a young lady can give one.hundred and fifty intonations to the remark that a gentleman is clever, and Mary Pennywoddle's intonation was not, perhaps, that which Mr. Dexter would have loved. Whilst enthralling Sir Ham, and climbing to a high pinnacle in the respect of Lady Pennywoddle, the barrister had, strange to say, made but little progress with Miss Mary. She had been civil from the first, and remained so ; but Mr. Dexter found his advances towards more genial intercourse repelled by a barrier of ice, rather remarkable from the fact that iciness was no part of Mary Pennywoddle's ordinary character. She was a method- ical lit'le person — tidy, plain-spoken, and demure. She liked to see the chairs straight, the mantel-shelves well dusted, and the poor whom she patronized wear- ing prints of uncompromising 8tifl"ness and stockings properly darned ; but her talk was spirited enough, and her hazel glances had often sparkled with amusement in company less delectable than Mr. Dexter's. Why, then, did she seem to view this gentleman with a cool and careful eye ? Tills is what Sir Ham's visitor had 'asked himself more than once, and during the few days that intervened between the election and that when the new M P. and his family were to leave for town he redoubled in the most patient way his 53 efforts to please. To nine hundred and ninety-nine women out of a thousand he would have appeared the most delightful of beings, and Lady Pennywoddle, who felt at home with him, thanks to the deftness with which he {dways placed his con- yersation on the level of hers, declared that he must be a blessing to his mother — or to his aunt, when she learned with concern that he was motherless. There is a great art in being able to heighten or lower one's chats by an octave to suit all tongues, and a man is not a true talker unless he remember that his intellect should be like a piano. Mr. Dexter, who could dissert on protoplasm and natural selec- tion in such wise as to comfort the most self-satisfied Hugbeian who ever bored a College wine party, would, when Sir Ham was not within ear-shot, lead his lady to dilate on the fascinations of that shop in Pudding Lane, and take a pleasure in the retrospect which drew a smile even from Mary. Sir Ham's daughter showed Mr. Dexter no outward aversion. Her unaccountable coldness was inward, and percep- tible only to himself ; externally she behaved towards him with the correct bland- ness of young ladies who have been trained at a fashionable Brighton school, and who desire to play their parts dutifully towards their parents' friends. So, profiting by the general humour he had excited at breakfast one morning by recounting how he had been chased by the Procter down the Oxford Corn- Market, and fined ten shillings for smoking a cigarette, Mr. Dexter said when the breakfast was over — "I hope you will allow me to go with you to the village school. Miss Penny- woddle ; I hear you are to examine a class ?" "But I thought you were going to London to see Mr. Deedes about j'-our news- paper?" returned Mary. "Sir Ham and I shall not start till the one o'clock train and I have more than two hours before me," explained Mr. Dexter. "Let Mr. Dexter walk with you, Mary, my dear," said Lady Pennywoddle, preparing to start on her household duties, with a basketful of keys numerous enough to keep the tea and sugar of a whole county in custody. "It's a sight for sore eyes to see them children, Mr. Dexter ; but wrap yourself up warm, Mary, my dear, for it has bin snowin'." "You'll see it's a proper school, Dexter, which I built myself, and cost six hundred pun'," remarked Sir Ham, toddling towards the door with a sheaf of letters in both his round hands. "The boys and gals are taught their Bibles, and to respect their betters, which is the choicest achoolin' I know of." "Certainly the best of all," assented Mr. Dexter. "Come by all means, if you like," answered Mary, quietly. "The children may amuse you, and you are certain to amuse thein ;" and with this little thrust she withdrew to put on her bonnet and cloak, whilst her remarkable parents separated, the one to his study with his letters, the other to the kitchen regions. These kitchen regions were Lady Pennywoddle's paradise ; and the hour she devoted to them every morning was the happiest of her day. Somewhat reluctantly Sir Ham had allowed his wife to remain her own housekeeper, and it was with that softened look attaching to all occupations which recall a poetic past that the worthy lady reviewed the pantry and sculleries, put the saucepans through their facings, and dipped her nose into the jelly-moulds. She would stand in her broad dress of silk and crape, prodding the raw joints with a fork, holding up giblets to the light, and testing by the naivest known process the freshness of the fish, s(» that the purveyors of Penny brought their wares witli a depressed feeling that it was no use carrying short weight or inferior quality to this house. Most depressed oi all, though, was the pork butcher, for, having to face in lier ladyship a critic of pro- fessional competence, this miserable man was haunted by the continuous foar of adverse verdicts as to his sausages, pigs'-faces, and spare-ribs, nor would anything save a blameless conscience have borne him through it. Need it bo added that there was no waste at Penny, and that, in despite of this, the sleekness of the servants would have qualified them to be German princes or Spanish queens accord- ing to their sexes or tastes. As to Sir Ham, the morning was not so pleasant a period to him, for epistolary correspondence was the one bitter drop in the cup of his riches. In London he 54 had clerks for the unimportaHt lettere, but till meeting Mr. Dexter he had never so far trusted a human being as to read him a letter treating of great interests. To the barrister he had not only of late read such letters, but had fished stealthily for his advice about answering them ; and Mr. Dexter's advice was so sound— he would suggest language so pointed in which to convey refusals, phrases so pithy for dis- missing complaints, that Sir Ham saw him with regret go out to the schools. " T think I'll keep these letters till you come back," he said, making his way across the hall where Mr. Dexter was opening the door for Mary, when the latter had come down. " Our company's thinkin' of a lawsuit with the Beef-boilers, and I'd like to know your mind about it." " I shall bo at your service, Sir Ham," replied Mr. Dexter, relieving Mary of a pile of Dickens's novels she was hugging with her muff. '* They are books for the teacher to read in the evenings," saiii Mary Penny- woddle, buttoning her glove ; and, Sir Ham having been kissed, the two young couple set out together over the snow, which crushed \nider their feet like silk being torn. " You had better give me your arm," proposed Mr. Dexter. " These mornings with dry snow on the ground, and the sun overhead, are apt to be slippery." "The schools are quite close," answered Mary, nevertheless giving him her arm. " But you surely are not going to stay with the children the whole two hours ?" *' You shall send me away when you find me de trop. But I delight in schools ; I saw Lord Mayrose's at Springfield the other day, and I should like to compare." Mary said nothing, but seemed absorbed in some sparrows who were hopping over the snow, leaving footprints like little stars. " Lord Mayrose always supported his village schools, they say, though he had so little money," resumed Mr. Dexter, easily. *' Heis just one of those men who deserve to be rich." " "What could riches do for him ?" enquired Mary coldly. " Not much for him, but for others ; and his marriage with Lady Azalea Carol wiU, therefore, be a public blessing. She brings him twenty thousand a year." " Lord Mayrose is going to be married ?" asked Mary, calmly, and it was per- haps fancy, but Mr. Dexter thought he could detect the faintest flutter in the small hand that lay on his arm. " Yes, I heard it in Hiveborough last niglit," said the barrister, " and I meant to tell Sir Ham, but forgot. It was being talked of in the shops, and everyone appeared glad. Mayrose has lost no time since his return, but it was urgent he should make a rich marriage if he wished to get on." " Get on?" echoed Mary, with surprise, and there was still a slight fluttering in her hand. But she walked with staid Httle steps, her black dress standing out hke a shadow on the white snow around, and her featm'es tinted pink by the prickly air of the morning. " I mean get on as a peer," said Mr. Dexter. " Poor peers are ten-ibly handi- capped if they have any ambition in them." " I hope Lord Mayrose is not marrying for money," replied Mary, with an animation that sent a quiver to her voice. *' The man who does that is the meanest of beings — he deserves no happiness in life, and I believe God sends him none." " Oh, but Lady Azalea is extremely beautiful, and this is certainly a love- match," said Mr. Dexter, quietly, and without evincing astonishment. " Only May- rose could not have afforded to marry her if she was poor, that is aU. He said to me rather mournfully that he wished he had my chances — that is, I suppose, that he had to climb his way from the bottom of the ladder." •' Oh I you will not be long "limbing, Mr. Dexter," exclaimed Mary. " I have no ambition to climb high. Miss Pennywoddle." " Yet if I could see into the future I have no doubt I should lind you very high. Men like yourself never stop half-way." " Men like me V and he smiled. " Men so amiable,'' and she smiled slightly too. " I have never heard yo*> epeak ill of anybody — nor of anything," added she, after a slight pause. 55 " That sounds like an epigram.'' " I don't intend it to be an unkind one ; but we are not all saints on earth, and everything is not exactly as it should be, judging from what I hear other people say. So you are either very guileless or very careful to conceal your opinions." " Will yen believe me that I never met a person in whom there was not some good," answered Mr. Dexter, with a pleasant smile, "nor any so-called abuse which had not its redeeming side. Life is a path strewn with flints and flowers. . There are so many who complain of the flints that I may be pardoned for remem- bering that the flowers were not wholly sown in vain." He was so gentlemanlike and rational, there was such an indulgent benevo- lence in all he said, so much tranquil dignity in his manners and appearance, that any average woman would have felt her heart soften to him. Whatever may have been Mary Pennywoddle's impressions, she disputed no longer, and in a few min- utes they reached the brick school-house, which had a small stone belfry with a bell, a clock on its facade, and underneath a dark marble tablet, setting forth in golden letters the date when Lady Penny woddle had graciously laid the foundation- stone. Mr. Dexter did not remain two hours in this brick building, because he soon discovered he should be in the way. It was a mixed school, with boys arranged in rows to the right and girls to the left, the seats being according to age, and the little ones with their thumbs in their mouths nearest to the fireplace at the entrance. The room had the substantial and cozy look derivable from the formula, " regard- less of expense " — a formula that had been applied to the ordinance of all things at Penny. And here let it be respectfully submitted that those who write of the vulgar splendour of parvenu palaces prove, like those who describe the climate of the moon and stars, that they know little ef these places. If Sir flam had been compelled to build and furnish his own mansion he would doubtless have given it the aspect of a Stilton cheese, and have furnished it red and yellow ; but the archi- tects, decorators, painters, and upholsterers who had reared Penny in what had once been a mangel field and made it beautiful, had not asked the knight for his advice. They had gone to work with his cheque-book for a fountain of inspiration, and had raised a structure which would have been pronounced noble if it had been tenanted by an Earl, and a gem of luxury and good taste if it had been transported to Italy. So with these schools ; the fittings were just those which a model-school shculd be. There was warmth and ventilation, neat forms and commodious desks. A piano standing in one corner and harmonium opposite showed that the place could be transformed into a concert or ball room, as the recreative needs of the Penny villagers might require ; and large maps in plain, attractive colours bright- ened the walls. Then between these maps and on the walls themselv-is were painted the names of the Sovereigns of England, with the great events and illustri- ous names that marked each reign. And maybe sundry Britons not villagers would have been the better for sitting a few hours every day in this school and accustom- ing their eyes to the dates when Magna Charta was signed, and the later date when the precursors of Cardinal CuUen burned the forerunners of many a modern Home- Ruler for the behoof of their souls. But a great squealing was audible as Mr. Dexter, after turning the handle of the outer door, pushed open the red baize folding-doors within ; and a chubby youngster, with a flaxen poll, sat wailing, with his knuckles in his eyes. ' ' What are you crying for, Jimmy ?" asked Mary Pennj'woddla, passing in and stooping over him. " 'Cos teacher wants me to say A," blubbered this young son of the soil. '•' And why won't you say A ]" "'Cos if I does she'll want me to say B," roared Jimmy, like a prudent lad who takes his precautions in advance. " I am afraid they give you great trouble, Grace," said Mary. " This is Mr. Dexter — Mr. Dexter, my friend. Miss Grace Marvell." Mr. Dexter bowed, and Mary kissed Miss Marvell. It was quite in keeping with Mary Pennywoddle's nature to do this thing— to call the school-teacher her friend and to behave towards her with sisterly respect and familiarity ; but Miss Grace was a person whom many — especially of the opposite sex — would have been pleased to call their friend on any terms. She was rightly named Marvell, and it was the greatest marvel of all to i^nd her nestled in a rustic school and explaining the parts of speech to rising bumpkins. Tall, faultlessly moulded, and graceful —a beauty, with wavy, chestnut hair, lustrous eyes, and a small, exquisite mouth — she was one to whom the empire of silks, jewels, and men's worship seems to belong by Nature's patent ; and here in this school she looked like a queen defrauded of her rights. Subsequently Mr. Dexter learned that she was a former school-fellow of Mary's, whose parents had been ruined, and who had declined to accept the charity of a companionship or to affront the sauciness of well-bred butlers and ladies'-maids as a governess. For the present he could only admire her in silence, as he would admire the tinted Yenus in a hovel ; and he sat near the fire in the blue leather arm-chair which was her only throne till further orders, while she and Mary went through a Bible examination of the classes. Mr. Dexter listened just long enough to find the decent pretext for retiring so as to help Sir Ham with his correspond- ence, and as he rose to leave the following instructive dialogue caught his ears. " What is a gentleman ?" asked Mary of a boy three feet high, in corduroys. " A man as tells the tooth, miss." " And what is truth-telling, Johnny ? Take your finger out of your mouthy there's a good boy. " "Not to tell loys," answered Johnny, wiping his finger on the corduroys. " And what shall you call a lie when you are a gentleman, Johnny ?" As Johnny seemed puzzled as to the line of morality he should adopt at this far-off date, and as he was working his finger up his pinafore again on the way to his lips, twenty urchins held up their red fists ; and one with copper-toed shoes shouted, with the readiness of an old lesson, " A man is a loyar, miss, who says or does summat that makes him get what isn't his'n, and that he daren't swear to alone afore God, and if he had all the money in England a loyar wouldn't be a gememmun." " That's right, Teddy," said Mary Penny woddle, as she turned towards Mr. Dexter. CHAPTER XVII. ' , . ,.' ■ 1 ' ,.■'.■• I ■^'; ' AD AUGUSTA PER AUGUSTA. of tha woddl these to uni referrt kind Home self, before blood which if he wished do so? Bi Contra] resultec than in tion. A few days after this Mr. Dexter returned to London with Sir Ham, who was much put out by the rumour of Mayrose's marriage — rumour which, be it said at once, was baseless. The report had come into Hiveborough through one of the maids at Elmwood, who had nothing to conceal from a young carpenter in the town ; which young carpenter having a sister who was married to the hair-cutter in the market-place the intelligence had got about pretty quickly into the ears of all the people who came to be shaved and shampooed. When applied to news- paper items this manner of obtaining news is called " special information ;" in the case of memoirs and biographies it is styled " materials gathered from authentic sources." In either case the news so acquired is more pleasing than that to be had from ordinary channels, for according to the maid's version Lord Mayrose had not fallen from his horse, but had thrown himself on his knees in a field, and vowed he would never rise till Lady Zell allowed him " to put up the banns." Even if this had been true it is not the version that would have been circulated for the credence of Society, so that biographers and journalists cannot be too much encouraged to prefer, as heretofore, recondite sources to official ones. Mayrose was not going to be married ; but whilst the Prime Warden of the Sausage-Makers was bemoaning his stupidity for courting such a fate, and even pondering whether there was no means of saving him from it, he was feeling like his old self again, for events had begun to brighten for him in various ways. In the first place, the little cloud over liis relations Avith Elmwood had been happily dispelled by an affectionate letter from Lady Rosemary, who wondered, in answer to his own note, ' ' how he could talk of diminished confidence or any dismal thing 67 of that kind." She bantered him with cheerfulness about his fear of the Penny- woddles, but cautioned him gently, as she had done before, against quarrelling with these potent neighbours, seeing that any incivility on his part might be attributed to unworthy motives of envy or arrogance. As to the passage in his letter which referred to Zellie, the Countess dismissed it briefly in these terms ; "I accept your kind wishes for Zellie, but without knowing whether her marriage with Lord Homette is so certain as you appear to think. The matter rests with Zellie her- self, and it would be undesirable that any rumour of the match should be bruited before she has been proposed to and given her answer." These lines sent the blood tingling to Mayrose's face in quick surprise ; for what if Zellie's answer — which he had thought already given in the affirmative — should be a refusal ? What if he had been mistaken all along in supposing that Lady Rosemary's daughter wished to marry Lord Homette, or that Lady Rosemary herself desired her to do so ? But this was only the first breeze in the fair wind that gladdened Mayrose. Contrary to all expectations, the general election ordered by Mr. Paradyse had resulted in the triumph of Mr. Paramount ; whereat Mr. Paradyse, more in sorrow than in anger at the wayward country which had deserted him, tendered his resigna- tion. Never was a nation more astonished, and never were writers and poUticians more crestfallen than those who had marched the march of glory behind Mr. Para- dyse ; for whenever this great man's supporters had been beaten in single elections it was the Tobacco interest that had done it all, or the Soda water interest, or both these interests acting in collusion with the Shaker Brotherhood, who, it is well known, wanted to hold their dances in the churches of the Establishment, and were wroth at being forbidden. In fine, though Mr. Paradyse's backers had reluctantly admitted that he might be unpopular here and there in the abstract, yet they had held like one man to their belief as to his popularity in the concrete, and it caused them much dampness to find such evidences to the opposite. Let no one doubt that they tried to console themselves in the usual way, by printing statistics to show how different it might have been if the constituencies had been otherwise ; and the humourous papers of the party printed cartoons of Mr. Paramount being puffed into Downing-street by the smoke of tobacco-pipes. But these iests, good as they were, rang a little hollow, and the general impression was as of something startling. Perhaps, however, the person most startled of all was he who had most reason to rejoice at this txirn of the tide — Mr. Paramount himself. An angler, who has been patiently waiting to catch one fish, and who lands a netful, may experience the sensations which this distinguished statesman felt ; but Mr. Paramount was an impenetrable man, who let nothing of his surprise be seen to the public eye. Com- manded by the Queen to form a Ministry, he summoned his lieutenants around him, and met them at Lord Rosemary's town house in Belgrave Square, which was large and commodious for such meetings. Lady Rosemary, who went to town to do the honours, wrote instantly to Mayrose to come to London, too, adding with her usual tact — no doubt, lest he" should scruple to seem prosumptuous — that Mr. Paramount particularly desired his attendance. It was her ladyship who underlined the word. Now, if Mr. Paramount had one merit acknowledged even by his foes it was that of knowing how to choose men. He might not resemble Pitt in other respects, but he did in this one, and it was a high compliment to Mayrose that the new Premier should be willing to employ him, xmtried as he was, and unknown to the world. Mayrose did not aifoct to consider it a compliment, for, in his modesty, he ascribed the honour to Lady Rosemary's sole agency ; and in his heart of hearts he deplored that the opportunity would not now be given him of deserving his spurs before he obtained them. His pleasure at the overthrow of Mr. Paradyse was in- deed wholly patriotic, for his own purposes would have been better furthered had the late Administration remained in office throughout the session. As an Opposi- tion speaker he could have poured out his entire soul in assailing a Government whose i^olicy he thought mistaken ; but with his own party in power his situation was one of perplexity. If he refused to acceijt place he could not, without a show of bumptiousness unbecoming in one of his years, constitute himself a censor of his party ; if, on the other hand, he took a post, he would be reduced to cultivating 58 the official mysticism of style peculiar to Under-Secratariea, and to holding hia peace altogether when not actually dragged into debate. So in either event he would be to a great extent gagged. There was only this consolation, that in office he could labour with might and main to be of use to the community ; so he arrived in London resolved to abide by Lord Rosemary's advice whatever it should be. His hansom coming straight from the station amid the racket and life of town on a bright winter morning, drew up amid a great throng of carriages, which, de- positing their noble and right honourable occupants on the pavement, had wheeled off and arrayed themselves in a line with the horses' heads facing the house. This line of champing animals, who tossed their bits and studded the frosty earth with white flakes of foam, stretched half-way down one side of the square, and all the flashing liveries familiar to west end shone in it — the claret colour and cockade of Lord Beaujolais, who it was already known would return to his old post in the Household ; the white and scarlet of Lady Coralmere ; Colonel Dandelion's grass- hued brougham; and glittering high amid them all, the black and yellow chariot of the Duke of Bumblebeigh, with its escutcheon of drones rampant and its motto, " Sans miel ni JieV Mayrose saw that he had lighted upon the very thick of the quarry for honours and emoluments, and he questioned whether his morning costume would do for such illustrious company ; but to his great relief he was not shown into the room where the new rulers of the kingdom were assembled. A servant led him up a muffled staircase to Lady Rosemary's private boudoir, and there he remained alone a few minutes with some China pug-dogs, very rare and ugly, till the Countess joined him. She was all kind smiles and welcome, and if Mayrose had felt any remnant of nervoiisness at the thought of this meeting, it all melted away in the warmth of her looks. No allusion was made to Zellie. Lady Rosemary kissed him on the forehead, said a few laughing words about that " confidence" of which he had dreaded to be bereft because of Miss Pennywoddle's camelia, and then came to the important matter in hand. " We shall not be together five minutes, Freddy, for I have left quite twenty ladies in the next room, and the gentlemen are down-stairs parting what remains of the loaves and fishes among them." ** May I congratulate you on the Earl's appointment?" Rsked Mayrose, not doubting that the Earl had been reinstated first on the list to .he keepership of the waste papers. "Yes, I am +o be Lady Keeper again," said she, smilirg, and making him sit down by her side; "but now we must speak about yourself. Mr. Paramount knows how much you would chafe at taking any office which might appear to be given you from mere patronage, so he wants you to move the Address to the Queen's Speech in the House of Lords. The Under-Secretaryship of the Austra- lian colonies will be kept open meanwhile, and when you have made your debut in a speech which you must try to render as brilliant as you can, so that it may dazzle everybody, then you will be gazetted, and people will say then that your appoint- ment was not a piece of favour but a piece of justice." "This is kinder than I can express, dear Lady Rosemary," muttered Mayrose, who was really touched at the delicate thoughtfnlness which had planned that his self-esteem might not suffer the slightest ruffling. "You must thank Mr. Paramount," answered the Countess, lightly, and striv- ing after her generous wont to lessen the gratitude due to her. " Lord Albert Drone, the Duke's brother, is to be Secretary for Australia. He is very nice, and you will certainly find him easy to work with." "I would work well with a Tartar to justify this unmerited favour," answered Mayrose, with feeling. "Oh, but the favour will not be unmerited," insisted the Countess gaily. "There is not much to say generally in moving an Address to the Throne, but there is much in the manner of saying the little. Besides you can make an exception and say a great deal — criticise the past Government." "I must try and forget that it is dead and buried, then," laughed Mayrose ; "at all events I will pray against being dull." 69 not the Tose ; "That you could never be if you tried," she said, with a motherly look. "Mr. Paramount speaks with positive enthusiasm of you, and I must tell you, Freddy, that you are already credited with having forced Mr. Dexter to retire, and with having gained us a seat with Sir Ham Pennywoddle. Mr. Dexter was growing to be a dangerous critic in the House ; and Sir Ham, who has large city influence, was supposed to belong to the other side until you converted him," "I assure you I have converted nobody," protested Mayrose, frowning a little to see the inevitable Sir Ham dog him even to this boudoir. "As to Mr. Dexter, dear Lady Rosemary, I meant to help him." "Well, it would not be prudent to confess that," laughed the Countess. "The exploits have been counted to you for ' party services,' and it is well to begin early with party services. Then I fancy Mr. Paramount will be more at his ease if you let him think he is indebted to you." This was a new view, b\it whether it would have led to a discussion on politcial casuistry is not ascertainable, for the few minutes which Lady Rosemary could give to her proteg^ was now over. A little clock stationed between two Dresden shep- herdesses tinkled out the hour which had been fixed for a general partisan luncheon, and the Countess took Mayrose's arm to return among the ladies. They passed through a velvet door-curtain, along a room with miniature enamel paintings and Gobelins tapestry, and thence penetrated into a bower, where the silvery hub- bub of feminine politics was rife. And it was a brave sight to see them all in their war-paint, rustling skirts, and exulting eyes — these pretty tyrants of the misnomered weak sex, who, through their husbands, cousins, or other male belongings, were about to skake the royal sceptre as for a transformation scene over the empire where the sun never sets. Favourite chaplains to be transfigured into deans ; deans into bishops ; young brothers to be shipped out as colonial governors ; pet doctors to be knighted; ambassadorships to be intrigued for; commission ershipa to be danced at ; Garters, Bath ribands, coronets, judges' ermine, Maid-of -honour rosettes to be begged for with appealing dimples, seized with rosy fingers, carried off in ecstacy — all these things whirled about like a living diorama before the open eyes of these delighted and delightful creatures. Nor had the term "Paramount vice Paradyse " any other sense in their minds than that of this diorama. Lady Coralmere was in the room, and so was comely Lady Beaujolais, and to the numerous other ladies whom he had never seen (neither Zellie nor Violet were here) Mayrose was now introduced. There were some sunny Ladies Drone among them in corded silks and sable furs, and some chirruping, wide-awake Ladies Keane- Forester with otter- skin muffs, and some winsome ladies of that great house of Rodent-Midge, which has fed off the Budget without cease or loss of appetite since the Charter Day at Runnymede ; and at the hands of all these blonde and brunette despots of our souls and bodies Mayrose endured the fate reserved to every man who is handsome, blithe-tempered, a bachelor, and who moreover stands alone with two dozen of the adverse sex scrutinizing him. Perhaps he would have liked that the smiles and petting bestowed on him should have been less similar to those conferred on poodle-dogs — for he detected a disquieting resemblance between the two — but then he was so self-possessed and ready of wit, so well-dressed, young, and teeming with good spirits, that ladies could not but treat him as essentially their own peculiar property. In a brief space they had all concurred in a scheme fi^r attending the House of Lords in a galaxy on the opening of the session, and hearing this poodle-peer move his address. " What uniform shall you wear, Lord Mayrose ?" asked Lady Coralmere, who glanced at him more and more every time they met, and now dropped one of her gi'ey gloves that he might have the happiness of picking it up. "I think I can wear the Hiveshire Yeomanry uniform," laughed Mayrose, restoring the glove. " Which is blue and silver, with a brass helmet," said a crimp-haired Lady Drone, with admiration. "It should be blue," approved Lady Beaujolais; "red does not show off so well against the scarlet benches in the House of Lords." 60 "I like gold better than silver — if there's a great deal of it," obaerved a Lady Bodent-Midge, entbusiastically. "And all the illustrated papers will publish your portrait," remarked Lady Coralmere, with a look of speculation as to whether it would be in full face or profile. "And biographical notices," added Lady Beaujolais. " Think of that !" *' With the date of my birth, and the rest blank," smiled Mayrose. At which there was a flattering outcry that blanks are easily filled up by those who please, and that men, like nations, are the happiest who are too yoimg to have a history, but in the midst of these dulcet encouragements a door down-stairs was heard opening, and a unanimous soft " Ah!" from the ladies indicated that the half hun- dred or 80 of salaried posts which form a Government must probably have beeu filled up now, so that there stood no further impediment in the way of luncheon. This surmise was correct. Statesmen's feet trod through the hall below and in cadence ascended the staircase, all of them the lighter for the heavy weight of emoluments and responsibilities which they were thenceforth to carry. They surged on the landing and flowed into the ladies' room in a patriotic tide, screwing down their pencil-cases, thrusting lists into their waistcoat-pockets and wearing jaunty yet ruminating looks, as though each man felt that he should dearly love he particular post which his neigbour had got. There was the Duke of Bumble- beigh, who cared for none of these things himself, but who, as the Nestor of the party, came to see that no one of his kinsmen was forgotten in the distribution, a point about which these kinsmen also took care themselves. His Grace was to his son Lord Hornette what the yellow and faded original of an engraving is to a later reprint of it. He had passed through time when it had been the fashion for every Briton of brains to sneer at dukes, but he had seen dukes and their power live down the sneerers, and now that he was tottering at his leisure towards the vault where his fathers lay, he could comfort himself with the reflection that dukes in general, and Dukes of Bumblebeigh in particular, would survive the sneers of the next generations also ; aye, and of many a generation following. Beside him, alert on his boot-tips stepped his younger and politic brother. Lord Albert, more widely known as Balbie Drone, the new Secretary for Australia, of whom we shall see more anon, for he was to be Mayrose's chief. Then, after massive Lord Stonehenge, the granite head of this Administration, and Sir Tito Tumb, who fitted into round holes or square holes alike, came buoyant Lord Beaujolais, with silky beard gaily trimmed, who cast an imperceptible nod at his wife, as if to assure her that the little bit of patronage she had desired for one of her relations had been effected precisely according to her orders ; and Lord Eosemary came, with lauijh ever serene as healthy weather, and showing no appearance of being raised in his own esteem, or lowered in it, by his Lord Keepersliip ; and centrally in the throng, with followers before and followers behind, and strangely blended looks of obedience and affected independence tlu-own on his path, like the tonfetti — some sugar, some plaster — showered on the Corso at Rome in Carnival time, came Mr. Paramount, towards whom Mayrose advanced with a few muttered words of thanks and homage. The air of victory sat well on Mr. Paramount. Good humour, self-confident speech, and impervious reserve, made him the born leader of a shy and brooding people ; so that those who talked of his dominancy as insecure neither knew the man nor the men who trooped after him. He shook Mayrose's hand with conde- scending cordiality, and administered to him the ointment of office in a few well- chosen words : — " We have to tnank you for winning us such a welcome recruit as Sir Ham Pennywoddle," he said. Mayrose had judgment enough to see that he was in the position of a subordi- nate now, and must not contradict his commander, so he simply bowed with the aspect of a man who has enlisted and been given the shilling. young ^i.'v 61 CHAPTER XVIIl. lO TRIUMPHE ! )ordi- the Her Majesty graciously deigned to open Parliament in person that year, and mobs of her liege subjects, marshalled by the police between Muckingham Palace and Westminster, enjoyed the pageant of Life Guards, gilt coach, cream-coloured horses with milk tails, Beef-eaters, and the yet more beatific vision of the Royal Crown being borne on the knees of an old gentleman, who held it as if it were a piece of pastry. One of these days the Economists, who have lodged British Roy- alty in a house well suited for a hospital, will discover that the way to Westminster is much shorter in a four-wheeled cab, with a shilling fare and an extra twopence for the Crown carried as luggage on the top ; but meanwhile the antique pomp causes almost as much pleasure as the saving resulting from the cab-hire would, and thus once again the mobs were pleased on the occasion of his return to power. The reading of Mr. Paramount's speech from the Throne to the Peers and to as many of the Commons as could jostle behind the bar, would have been an exciting cere- mony even if managed by the Lord Chancellor assisted by Commissioners in cocked hats ; but it was generally felt that the presence of Royalty lent an additional and fitting lustre to Mr. Paramount's triumph. As the curiosity was great to hear what the new Ministry liad to say, the Foreign Ambassadors were all at their posts, in a serried row of golden swallow-tails and well-oiled countenances, were the Envoys of the heathen Chinese, Japanese, and other wondrous Semitio " ese " — Peeresses and their daughters undulated in a restless sea of diamonds, silks, and satins, crested with plumes, Mechlin lace and tulle bouillonnee. The Peers temporal, gorgeous in their scarlet robes and lappets of ermine, with four rows of black tails — three, two, or one, according to their several degre«!S — and the Reverend Fathers in God cloaking the Episcopal bench in waves of sable satin and lawn, completed the his- toric scene, on which the light streamed grandly through the stained glass windows, tipping the cornices, paintings, and regal coats of arms with long arrows of gold, and impressing even the reporters in the gallery with the occasional beauty of things human. It was two o'clock when the Lord Chancellor gave the assemblage Her Majes- ty's commands to be seated, and half-past two when, Mr. Paramount's speech being read, the Queen retired with flouri^^h of trumpets, Princes, Princesses, Black- Rod, Chamberlain, Cctmptrollers, and other sovereign persons all outvying one an- other in the gaudiness of their raiments. By the same occasion Mr. Speaker, newly elect, caught \ip his robes like petticoats in muddy weather, and shuffled away, with the mace staggering in front of him on a pair of venerable shoulders ; and the peers, treading on each other's heels, swept back also to the robing-room to divest themselves of their purple. At this point, the sight was properly over, but the ambassadors, the reporters, and the Peeresses remained, and so did a batch of faithful Commons, who stuck fast, like shell-tjsh to the bar, whispering that they wanted to hear the speeches on the Address — and especially Lord May- rose's. There is not generally s^^ch wishfulness as this regarding the speeches of young Peers, but thanks to feminine influence, this was an exceptional case, and Mayrose's name was somehow in every mf)uth. When ladies take to sounding a man's trumpet — an instrument which by the way, a man had best sound for himself in these our times, if he wants to be heard afar — then the crowd which hurries up is like the gathering of the clans. Few of the visitors then in the House of Lords had known Mayrose a month before, or wanted to know him ; but they knew the three Countesses of Rosemary, Beaujolais and Coralmere, whose social fiats were as immutable as the laws which went to work on Daniel ; and they also knew the ladies of the great houses of Drone, Keane Forester and Rodent Midge, who had been celebrating the young Peer's graces, wit, and genius — ladies seldom hesitate for a qualificative more or less — and never had popular actor or actress a more determined claque than that which now mustered to witness Majrrose'a first performance. Mayrose was conscious that there was something histrionic in the whole affair, and possibly felt a trifle sheepish as he buttoned his white gloves op- G2 {)OBite tho glaBs in tho I'obing-room and took a final survey of liinisolf to seo that lis blue and silver uniform was creaselosH. That the small aspects of history may not be overlooked, let it bo stated that ho feared Ium moustache tips were .too much waxed, and a hesitation poHscHsed h'>M as to whether he Hhould keep his helmet in his hands whilst speaking, or lay it on tho bench. However, the gonuine hearti- ness of old Eton and University friends helped in a great measure to steadv him and soothe his distractions. Oututrotched hands stopped him in tlie painted lobbies, patted him on the back, and hailed him everywhere with words so frank and cheer- ful that they seemed to clear the air around him. Loi-d Hornette said to him kindly, " VVell, May rose, you are to step ahead of ub all to-day !" and Dollv Drone, hastening up from tho dining-room where he had been refreshing himself with Stilton and bottled beer whilst the Queen was desiring his attendance, wrung his fingers and exclaimed, " Jiy jove, old man, all the women will be throwing you their handerchiefs if you dont mind !" If nothing but a compliment of the most proper kind had been implied in the throwing of the handkerchiefs, the ladies might probably have gone this length with pleasuie, for Mayrose's entry seemed to occasion them general and lively satisfaction, which they testified by bringing not a few opera-glasses to l)ear on him. It was but natural that he should have been careful to have his luiiform well made ; and its sober tint and soldierly facings gave him much the look of a Prussian ofHcer as he walked to his seat with his helmet under his arm and his Bword slung up and quietly clinking. At a glance he noticed that Lady Rosemary, Zellie, and Violet were in the House, and as there were some minutes more to be passed before the Lord Chan- cellor installed himself on the woolsack, he left his seat to talk with his friends. But he could not exchange more than a shake of the hand with either Zellie or Violet, who were Jiestling on the Peers' benches, for Peeresses were leaning towards him in all directions claiming bows and recognition, so that for a few moments the chattering and musical laughter of their ladyships rose above the modulation usual in that House, and made the two clerks on a cross bench smile grimly under their new powdered wigs. If it can be questioned whether the dignity of Senatorial proceedings is enhanced by ladies' assistance, there is little doubt that the joviality of the proceedings is so, and Mayrose truly liked this light introduction to graver business. But everything has an end, and by the time the favoured Viscount had bandied trifles enough to make him think he was in a drawing-room or in the slips of a private stage just before the acting of a charade, the Peers had flocked in by twos and threes till the number of them exceeded three hundred. Hereon Lady Coralmere, bending over him till one of the white feathers in her hair almost kissed his brow, whispered that she had never seen such a full House as this congregated in his honour ; and it was with this assurance chiming its melody in his ears that Mayrose threaded his way back to his bench just as the Chancellor was effecting his imposing march up the House. On taking his seat Mayrose was attracted by a black kid hand waved affably to him over the bar, and he perceived it was that of Sir Ham Penny woddle, who had lately taken oath never to conspire against his Sovereign or to interfere with the Act of Settlement — an Act, of which be it ir n- tioned, he had then heard for the first time. Not to have acknowledg' '^ Knight's courtesy, or to have done so with coldness, would have look conceit under the circumstances, besides Lady Rosemary's gaze was on 1 so Mayrose nodded with a smile and received an approving glance from his moix oss. But now the lull of a House full packed occurred of a sudden, as if some one had said, "Let us pray!" Sons of Peers were grouped round the steps of the throne, and the diplomatic gallery seemed to be more crowded than it was before. The French Ambassador had put his double eye-glass over the bridge of his nose, and the American Minister, too grand a being for uniform, had remitted to his pockets the plum-colored gloves he had bought for the eye of majesty. The tinted windows continued to bathe the scene with soft blue and red light, and excepting the throne and the two seats beside it, not a sitting-place in the House was vacant. All eyes converged towards Mayrose, the Lord Chancellor bent his head towards him, conveying a half-wink, and with statesmen below him, statesmen opposite, "Iff 68 and nobleR preBsed ro\ind liim everywhere, MuyroBe stood up and in a clear voioo Haid, "My lord», I have Uio lionour to move an humble address in reply to Her Majefity's gracious Bpet'ch. ..^ * " It was an excellent Bpeccli ; Itut if any one feels anxiouB tu read the rest of it, let him refer to the papers of that date, and peruse also the leading articles on the debate. With a unanimous and polite voice the Loudon journals declared on the morrow that a Bpeaker of unusual promise had arisen in the Upper House, and complimented Mr. Paramount on his acquisition. But the correspondents of pro- vincial journals, who enjoy a fjroater latitude in the way of descriptive writing, went further than this, and nothing could bo more lyrical than their eulogies over the remarkable delivery, the blue tunic, the cogent rhetoric, and the glinting brass helmet of the young speaker. Nor were any of these praises excessive. The speech did not sound, except for the modesty of its exordium, like the first effort of a young performer. It was lucid, earnest, sensible, and bold — the discourse of a highly trained scholar and gentleman, who sjjoke from a well-stocked mind, and was in no danger of emitting nonsense. As to the delivery, Mayrose had served an apprenticeship in oratory at the Cambridge Union, and lie may have remem- bered the example of that self-possessed village priest who, being asked how it was that, preaching one day before a bench of cardinals, he had been in no wise abashed, answered, "I consider my congregations as so many cabbages, and red cabbages lor a change makes no difference;" but besides all this — though the provincial cor- respondents could not be aware of this fact nor of its influence on the speech — Zel- lie was there : and what orator has not spoken the better for such a stimulating presence as this ? • As he warmed to his work, Mayrose felt that Zellio's eyes were riveted on him, and the desire to show her that he was not a man who yielded on all points to Lord Hornette must have had something to do with strengthening his voice and making him utter things which evoked cheer upon cheer, not only Irom his own sid(> of the House but from the Opposition party — who gave him the gen- erous unconragement as much from surprise as from admiration. The speech was, indeed, a surprise from first to last. There was the noble lord who wore gaiters of a past age, and had never heard anything like it, and the noble lord who had made an acoustic horn of his hand and thought it astonishing, and the noble lord who habitually dosed during the solemnities, and could not explain why it was he re- mained awake now. Towards the close Mayrose strayed from the actual topics of the address to general remarks on the policy of his party and on that of the party who had been turned out (here the Opposition cheers were a trifle fainter), but there never was a wildness in his utterance, never a fault in taste or judgment, what hopeful things he had to say he said with feeling, and his criticisms struck the harder as they were temperate and respectful. Tli(3 speech concluded at the end of an hour of sustained attention, not in loud and prolonged cheers, for their lord- ships indulge in few sucli, but in cheers very hearty, and a universal hum of appre- ciative conversation. At the same time the personages in the diplomatic gallery tumtd about and " nared impressions. " C"est un grand pays qui produit de telle jeunes gens," remarked the French aiiit>assador, shutting up his glasses and addressing his American colleague. ' L'Angletair ne prodouce pas boccoo de ces joon gens," answered the Ameri- ca. 11 an oracular way. " Je n'ai pas compris un seul mot de ce qu'U a dit, mals il a une tete bien sym- pathique," opined a pretty Ambassadress, preparing to go away and Tung-Inye- Toheck of the Chinese mission pulled the brocade skirt of a brother attache and appeared to say hat the words of the young Mandarin below must have been in- spired direct bj tvung-Seen the pole of hght, whom we English call Confucius. But whilst these things Avere being spoken in the gallery, Colonel Dandelion, the "whip," who had stood watchful behind the bar during the whole oration, was in despair and would have torn out bunches of his hair had he had any to spare. " It's a positive ruin he shouldn't be in the Commons, he's just the man we want," observed this , lowing politician, ruefully, and hurried away to bear the tidings to Mr. Paramount. 64 This tribute ; that of Mr. Paramount himself, who bye-and-by male a point of congratulating him ; that of two-thirda of the Peere, in the House {who followed him out when the much eclipsed Seconder had had his say ; that of Sir Ham Pen- ny woddle, who caught him by the hand in the sight of all mankind and claimed to be his disciple — all these should have been trophies to move any man to pride ; but like many a gladiator or matador who has seen but one face among the thou- sands acclaiming him, so Mayrose cared but for one tribute of the many he received a deep, rapid look with a tear in it, which came from Zellie. Violet, CHAPTER XIX. VIOLETS BALM. ' . . Zellie had indeed been listening in wrapt attention to Mayrose's maiden speech. With eyes glistening and lips half-parted in excitement, she had drunk in every word ; and the cheers which exploded round her struck echoes in her he.irt under the form of great throbs which were almost audible to her sister. Violet had quick wits, and we may be sure that she had passed a considerable number of minutes since the day of the King's Chase run in putting two and two together. Zellie's agitation, Mayrose's constrained manner and needless departure from Eluiwood, were factors in a quotient very simple to read ; but Violet's reading, though a natural one, was at variance \'vith the truth. Seeing no reason why Mayrose should not propose to Zellie, and be married on the first convenient date, she supposed ihat Zellie's evident love for him was not returned ; and this made her indignant. The crime of insensibility is the greatest which a man can commit in woman's eyes, and if Mayrose had been composed enough to observe Violet, he might have noticed a pronounced shade of coldness in her mien as she shook hands with him before his speech. Th?3 coldness was also expressed in her ride home with her father and mother. Whilst the Lord Keeper of the Waste Papers was enthusiastic in praise of " Fred- dy's great hit" — that is, as enthusiastic as his temperate soul allowed him to be — and whilst Lady Rosemary chimed in vvith admiring monosyllables, Violet was pleased to see nothing uncommon in the speech. Lord Hornette had spoken quite as well, said she, a little rebelliously, at a certain agricultural dinner, and had besides contrived to make people laugh, which was always an essential in these cases ; and then she did not like an Englishman to dress himself up iu a blue tunic when he had only politic il remarks to ofter. Now eloquence is a great charmer of women, and any feminine jury of twelve would have put Vio' t out of court. Lord Rosemary did so on the spot. "For it was really a good speech, Vie," ejaculated he, as if he were judging claret. " What I liked ..bout it vas its Oxford flavour. Cambridge generally sends us argumentative men." "Audit was in Biich perfect taste," observed Lady Rosemary, but without showing surprise at Violet's criticism!?, for she had frequently remarked of late that Violet spoke impatiently of her old playmate. ' ' 1 don't say it was a bad speech, but the Lords cheered as if they had never heard a sensible thing before," said tenacious Violet. " It would have been much more cheered in the House of Commons," replied the sunny Lord Keeper, reflectively. "Ten years in the other House would have brought Freddy to the top of the tree." " He will succeed well as it is," remarked Lady Rosemary, with hopefulness. " Oh, yes, provided he makes a rich liiarriage," assented the Lord Keeper, airily. "If poor Coralm.ere were gone I think Freddy would have a fine chance. Beaujolais whispered to me to look what a fuss Lady Coralmere .vas making all through the sitting." "How can Lord Beaujolais say such things, my dear?" answered the Countess, in a deprecating tone. " Yes, of course, ray dear — I beg pardon," apologised the Lord Keeper. " But then there's Miss Pennywoddle, or any other person of good looks and dower. 65 ies3. oper, lance. g all ntess, "But ower. Freddy must find some one before the season is over to give dinners for him in that big house." "I think it's very mean of men to care so much about dining, papa," exclaimed Violet, with flashes in her blue eyes. "Well, miss, if you had a few brothers and I had nothing to divide between you and Zell, you might be anxious too about the dinner side of life," laughed the Earl. And in all that his Lordship sinned not, for he was aware of no cause or impediment why Freddy's matrimonial or prandial prospects should not be dis- cussed as freely as any country cousin's. But the while Zellie glanced out of the window at the passing cabs anf'. crowds, at the newsboys selling evening copies of the papers with Her Majesty's graciou3 Speech, at the City tide of omnibusses flooding westward to dinner and tea, and she said nothing. Once or twice, indeed, when Violet was assaulting Mayrose's success with her little pin thrusts, the blood mantled in pink waves to Zellie's cheeks, and her lips slightly quivered ; but she showed no other sign of hearing what was said, and so Violet babbled on guilelessly not suspecting that she was a cause r>f pain. But she was soon to learn what she had d^me. The sisters had rooms adjoining each other, and on this particular evening the uv.AiX whom they shared in common was to dress them for a dinner at the Duke of Bii.ublebeigh's; but instead oi' ringing for this attendant immediately on arriving home, Violet came into Zellie's r'^om, as her custom was, for half-an-hour's talk and for some tea. A tiny copper kettle stood on the grate bracket, hissing its steam into the room, and a tea-service in Sevres china was set on a small tea table, with its cream jug, plate of cakes, and rolled wafers of bre .d h,iid butter all ready. Zellie and Violet loved to mako their tea themselves, without servants' help, and this half-hour they spent nibbling at those wafers of bread and butter, and chatting over the queer things or people they had seen during the day, was always a cosy one. This time, however, when Violet returned from her own room into Zellie's, after taking off her dress and putting on a marvellously coay peignoir, Zellie said, impatiently, with her lips set, "Please take your tea into your own room, Violet. I want to be alone." Violet stood surprised at the doorway, and with both hands in her hair, which she had begun to let down. "Why, what's the matter ?" she asked. "I want to be alone," repeated Zellie, in a tone as peevish as her gentle voice could assume. She was still dressed, and was standing opposite her toilet glass drawing off her gloves, and throwing them on the table. That glass reflected a very pretty, but troubled face, with a flush of stung pride that fevered her whole frame ; and Violet quailed a little at it. "I won't go, Zellie, till you tell me what I've done to make you cross," she answered ruefully, with a lock of hair falling over her eyes, and so saying, she softly closed the door and stole in. Then Zellie turned upon her, as the best of girls will when wounded by their younger sisters. No dove could have been milder than Zellie, and no diamond was purer than her childlike heart ; but even doves will turn and diamonds cut. "Why, what have I done that you should wish to tease me and make me un- happy ?" she broke out, unclasping one of her bracelets with petulant force. "You've been doing it for days — you know you havo !" "I tease you I" echoed poor Violet, letting a whole cascade of locks fall over her eyes in her amazement. " Yes, teasing me, and acting as no sister who loved me would have done ; and then you say your prayers at night !" faltered unreasonable Zellie, tearing rather than unlocking the other trinkets off her white wrists. "I didn't think you would ever speak to me so unkindly as that," pouted Violet, picking at the frill of her peignoir with trou'.led fingers, and looking as if she were ready to cry ; "and if it's because I spoke about that speech, I wish there had been no speech," said Violet, feelingly. " I call it wicked and unsisterly," was Zellie's pitiless answer, as she turned her back on Violet and made as if she would cut short all discussion. But in that movement Violet saw that some tears were welling out of her sister's eyes, and this 66 disarmed her. She followed Zellie with quick forgiving steps, twined an arm round her neck and kissed her. "Don't call me unsisterly, Zellie. I was angry with Freddy, because it's hard to be patient with a ma.T who looks so pleased with himself when — when — in fact, dear, I knew you were miserable." She would perhaps have been wiser in avoiding this subject, for there are topics too delicate for allusion "even between sisters. But Zellie and Violet had always been as one, having no secrets from each other — before this one had arisen — and to have gone back to her room, leaving Zellie to become good-tempered again at her leisure, was more than Violet would have the heart to do. This was not the first symptom of Zeilie's unhappiness either ; and Violet much wished to be rid of the load that was oppressing them both, or at least to bear her share of it. So it was with an air of protection as well as loving repentence for any sorrow she might have occasioned that she put her arms round Zellie and kissed her, once, twice, most tenderly. Then Zellie too forgave. "You mustn't mind me, Vie,'' she murmured, not being able to withstand those kisses. "What T said was cruel and foolish — I know it ; but I thought you were teasing me." " I didn't mean to tease you, dear ; but come and sit down ; tea will do you good ; and we'll talk," said Violet, at the same time beginning to unhook her sis- ter's dress ; and it needed bat a few touches of her deft fingers to robe Zellie in a drapery like her own and to set her in a low easy-chair near the fire. Every woman is at heart a nurse would be a truer proverb than another which begins similarly, for after Violet had taken n]) the little copper kettle and poured its steaming floods on to the leaves whose aroma soon filled the room, and after she had knelt down on the hearthrug at Zellie's feet with the plate of bread and butter in her hands to give herself a countenance, what intuitive wisdom of womanhood was it that made her divine the one right balm for Zellie's sufi'erings ? * ' I was out of patience with Freddy, Zell, but do you know I think he is very fond of you, dear," said she, with slow archness, and pusning one of the ■wafers to- wards the edge of the plate, as if this were the particular one, and not any of the others, which she wished Zellie to take. " It's easy to see what a man thinks ; and there are some men who fancy one doesn't know what's in their thoughts, but they're mistaken . I guessed it all along by Freddy's voice and by his eyes when he imagined nobody was watching him ; but then I was angry with him because he didn't speak his mind " — and was it part of the prescription for the use of the balm that Violet should keep her eyes on the ground so as not to perceive Zellie blushing ? " Then I couldn't bear to see you miserable," added Violet. " If a man made you unhappy evar so little, I would speak as crossly of him as I could, because he would deserve it," "I couldn't bear to see you — angry," replied Zellie, rather tremulously, in a voice as low as her sister's. " All that Fred — Lord May rose said was so noble that it seemed hard-hearted of you. Even papa was touched." "Yes ; but a man should not know only how to speak to lords," proceeded Violet, still pushing the wafer forward with the smallest of her fingers. " He .should be fible to speak to ns — that's what I was saying to myself. But I expect he's afraid." " Afraid of what ?" asked Zellie, naively ; and just then the wafer of bread and butter found its way on to the plate in her lap, and immediately afterwards a a cup of tea came into her hands, because Violet dumbly insisted on it. "Well, afraid of money," answered Violet, catering now for herself, and shaking the locks out of her eyes. "There is always something of that sort to make everyone wretched. It seems we are rich and he is not — that may frighten him — men are so odd! Then it may be Lord Hornette" — and again Violet kept her eyes away from her sister as she mse and filled her own cup. " Lord Hornette I" ejaculated Zellie,i nervously, with an inflection of mingled dread and dislke. " You know, dear, he was always showing himself polite to yoa before Freddy came back, and people may have talked about it," observed Violet wisely. but dr promisi "( Never ! was on whispe. come ri behavec eh? T] "I audible Bui fidential door anc waning i Belgravi gi-oup of nestle so her arms then stoc own roo brushes. But argumen Violet ha some exp balm, it \ at their r^ account, s of a rare < on him ; and Lord reserve. Alltl Bumblebe artist, Mr, bunches o zling cone for conque and ear-rii Violet cou " Afte him— I lo loves Zeni( And s( Freddy, w] liim an adj She di lowed the she could r male and ft the wives, < Iceeded "He expect bread irards a 67 "But I never made Lord Hornette any promises, Violet — never!" "Supposing, though, Zellie" — and this time Violet looked on the ground again, but drew nearer to her sister — " supposing Lord Hornette asked you for a— promise ?" '*0h, Violet ! I could never make hira a promise — not if, if I died for it ! Never !" And there must have been vehement emphasis in this answer, for Violet was on her knees again in an instant, making Zellie a necklace with her arms, and whispe.nng, "But, then, Zellie, we have only to wait a little and everything will come right. Freddy will take heart and speak — men always speak after they have behaved aggravatingly for a time. And promise never to think I am teasing you, eh ? Try and be like you were before all this — before that day with the hounds." " I thought he was killed when he fell from his horse," was Zellie's scarcely audible answer — inaudible because Violet's lips crept up to hers as she made it. But these scenes of emotion are never allowed to last long, and it was this con- fidential moment which Miss Stitcliett, the maid, selected for scratching at the door and remarking that it was time for their ladyships to dress. The day was waning in the square outside ; the lampmen were dotting their red stars about Belgravia ; and in Zellie's room the flicker of the fire threw fitful shadows over the gi'oup of the two sisters nestling cheek to cheek. They would have both loved to nestle so for some time longer, but at the maid's intrusion Violet rose, and stretched her arms above her head, with a well-feigned little yawn of laziness and languor ; then stooping to breathe another parting whisper of good hope she sought her own room and surrendered herself to Miss Stitchett's comb, and ivory-backed brushes. But the curious pait of this episode has jot to be told, for, whilst inventing arguments to plead in favour of Mayrose's attachment, devotion, and modesty, Violet had ended by convincing herself — a phenomeuoii of which lawyers may have some experience. Or since we have compared Violet's sisterly ministrations to a balm, it was as if she had culled ingredients at haphazard, and was now surprised at their real worth and efficacy. So long as she had judged Mayrose on her own account, she had heaped up accusations against him, taxing him with callousness ot a rare order for not instantaneously requiting the love that was being lavished on him ; but in taking his part for Zellie's sake it had occurred to her that money and Lord Hornette — the two somehow joined — might indeed be the causes of his reserve. All this was pondered over whilst Miss Stitchett was making her beautiful for Bumblebeigh House, with a coifi'ure copied from a diagram by that great capillary artist, Mr. Friesemeche, of Paris, and with a dress trimmed with rows and little bunches of those blue iridescent feathers take from the throats of peacocks — a daz- zling conception of that other great Parisian, '«i •. Girth. Still, when she was ready for conquest, and was fastening on the sapphire ornaments — bracelets, necklace, and ear-rings — which by Mr. Girth's written orders were to be worn " profusely," Violet could not help exclaiming — " After all, though Freddy is very provoking and silly, papa and mamma love him — I love him — everybody loves him. He has only to come and say that he loves Zellie and we should all bo happy, everj'one of us." And so this prudent little schemer resolved that whenever she met Master Freddy, whether at Bumblebeigh House that night, or elsewhere, she would give him an adroit hint to set him on the track of duty. . i^<-. ,' ., ,, .,, , ., , , CHAPTER XX. . . THE TRACK OF DUTY. •. . She did see Freddy at Bumblebeigh House that evening in the rout that fol- lowed the Duke'a private dinner-party, but the crush of notables was so great that she could not get near him. London had ("ured out its place-hunting legions, male and feminine, who thronged his Grace's yellow drawing-rooms to smirk before the wives, daughters, and sisters of all the new Cabinet Ministers ; and Mayroso 68 having being borne into a corner by the tide, remained there like a stranded waif, half a dozen of the Drune, Rodent Midge, and Keane Forester ladies treating him like lawful jetsam, and pulling him figuratively to pieces. It was several days before Violet fairly saw Mayrose again to speak to, and by that time he had truly added a cubit to his stature. He was gazetted Under-Secretary for the Australian Colon- ies ; and moreover he was somebody, which an Under-Secretary need not necessari- ly be. The weekly papers, following in the train of the dailies, had caught up hi» speech and analysed it as a remarkable — some said threatening — production, the political programme of a new party ; and hereat such of the dailies as were antago- nistic to Mr. Paramount's men, and felt disgusted at having bestowed i^raise on somebody who turned out to have a programme, wrote new leaders recanting their previous ones, and sneered politely at the speech, warning the orator against bump- tiousness. This was no mean triumph. Perhaps though, the most satistactory tribute was that of a high-class review, which in the hoity-toity style of philosophy familiar to most of us, speculated on the functions of the peers in the abstract and on their utility in general. The writer deplored the position of the young peer of nous and the sense of wasted power which must oppress him at finding himself in a gerusian assembly, fated by the conditions of its essence to be abortive, bringing forth magna jam conatu magnus nugas. All this high-class writing filled a column, and was by the Rev. Nonus Nines. So Mayrose was, beyond remission, a public servant. He drew a salary of fifteen hundred a year, had patronage to dispose of, and ruled Australia under the guidance of Lord Balbie Drone — so nick-named from a slight impediment in his speech, which enabled him to say but one half of what he desired, and therefore lent an air of preternatural sapience to the half that was left unsaid. Possibly these unsaid halves had been the making of Lord Balbie Drone. Judging him by his countenance one was moved to credit him with a depth of purpose unfathomable, for it might be truly said of him as of a certain Chancellor, that nobody was ever 80 wise as Loi'd Balbie looked. He came to the office every morning with a long umbrella imder his arm, and read the Times ; and when he had done that he read some other paper. The cutting of the leaves of a Blue book with an ebony paper knife brought him to the hour when he generally took a brown-bread biscuit and a glass of sherry, after whicli he was sufficiently refreshed to vouchsafe as many sig- natures as the Permanent Under-Secretary, Mr. Kean-Midge, requested of him. A gentleman of polished humility, he gave Mayrose no trouble of any sort or kind, ;«,nu was glad — almost grateful — when the latter would come in to help him eat the brown-bread bisciuts, and agree with him that sherry was not what it used to be in former years. Towards three, with the consciousness of duty discharged sitting com- fortably on him, his lordship would set out for the House of Commons on foot, going the longest way because he made it a principle to take exercise, and, on another principle, he contrived to leave the house early and never to return to it unless ab- solutely wanted, because he doubted whether night air was good for the lungs. Lord Balbie's hats were not well brushed, nor did his boots fit him, but there was a knowingly politic aspect on them which singled thetu out from the hats and boots of the vulgar. Now it was at Lord Balbie's house that Violet met Mayrose again, for the Duke of Bumblebeigh's brother had married a rich heiress of one of the governing houses — the Lady Isabella Keane-Forester, and her ladyship was hospitable in bringing useful and pleasant people together. Mayrose had been speedily invited there, and it had required him no time to see that he stood in Lady Bella's agree- able wide-awake eyes as a fav^oured subaltern does towards the wife of his colonel. Lady Bella loved to patronize young men, to draw them out, show them and give them advice. She was always richly covered — it could scarcely be styled " dress- ing,'' for she was of luxuriant proportions, and a little amiss in her taste for colours j she was also humourously bluff, and the club called her privately Belladonna, not because of the beauty she may have once claimed, but because of her conversation, which, like belladonna, was apt to make the pupils of one's eyes dilate. " So you are in the office now," she said to Mayrose, after the latter had fared sumptuously at her board, and was standing before her in the drawing-room during 69 kgree- llonel. ktion, Ifarod luring the few miniiles that precede the incursion of late guests invited to the "assem- bly." "You have an excellent place. 1 knew poor Sir Job Humdrombe, who held it years ago, before I was married ; his wife ran away with her footman." " Dear me !" said Mayrose, with sympathy. "Yes, it's a painful subject, and I never allude to it ; but those HumdrombeS have always been unfortunate," continued her ladyship, fanning herself. " There was Mr. Dulleigh Humdrombe, who became Lord Tweedledee, and people always said he got his peerage to console him for his wife having gone off to Nice with Count Vaudeville of the French Embassy. He threatened to poison himself." " I hope he thought better of it," was Mayrose's considerate remark. " Yes, his valet tied him up with the bed curtains and cried for the i)olioe, so that it very nearly got into the papers. These things are all good to know, but not to be talked about ; in fact I often wonder myself how it is that scandals get circulated and remembered as they do. But now tell me," broke off Lady Bella, with a most proper sigh, "you have half the patronage of the office to dispose of ?" "A part of ib, I believe," answered Mayrose. " Lord Albert has been kind enough to hand me over some of the appointments." "Oh, it's the custom, and there's no kindness in it," exclaimed her ladyship, frankly. " Is there not a judgeship in the Grogsome Islands vacant now ?" " Yes, and five dozen applicants for it. I was reading the testimonials before dinner," laughed the new Under-Secretary. *' Dear me ! I wouldn't read testimonials if I were you," exclaimed Lady Bella- donna, with an engaging shrug, and a matronly look of indulgence. " If you have not yet appointed anybody, I will tell you of a capital person ; he is a sort of relative of mine, so I can depend upon him — young Staulker Rodent, who has been at the bar some years. He took the highest honours at Oxford, I believe — what they call a pass-degree." " I am sure I shall be very happy to recommend Mr. Rodent," bowed Mayrose, a little bewildered ; and just as his first piece of patronage had thus been whipped skilfully out of his hands and beyond the reach of the five score of gentlemen who had sent in testimonials, the assembly guests began to flow in. This enabled him to retreat and accost his chief, who forthwith introduced him to various people pre- sumably belonging to the testimonal order of creation, for they talked of the Australian Archipelago as if they all wanted to be sent there by the next boat, and as if Mayrose would oblige them particularly in assisting their embarkation. Not much diverted by all this, the Under-Secretary meditated whether he could not glide away unobserved and go home to deal with some business of the office, which seemed to him to require special attention, and he had reached an outer room on his way to exit when he felt the tap of a Ian on his arm, and turning round was confronted by Violet — all silk, feathers and flowers. " Ah, it's you, Violet !" he said, with a brightening up of his features, which had been weary a minute before, and held out his hanr", well pleased. " I suppose you are become too grand to talk to any one now," replied Violet, with a little pout ; " you passed Zellie and me just now without even looking at us." '* The gas or those twinkling eyes of yours must have blinded me," he smiled, apologetically. "But how is Zellie?" And this he said in a tone of simulated quietude as if he were alluding to a very distant person indeed. " Zellie is very well," answered Violet, quite catching the accent of the question, and taking his arm coldly out of protest at it. " You would not have occasion to ask if yon came to see us more often." " I have been to see Lady Rosemary twice this week," pleaded Mayrose. " Yes, when Zellie and I were out," retorted Violet, aflfecting to fasten a button of her glove. " I wished both times you had been in," said the Under-Secretary for Australia. "Yes, a man is always wishing things which cost him no trouble," replied Violet severely, as she beat down her coruscating skirt ; but now they had reached the confines of the drawing-room, where a distinguished vocalist with a butter-coloured head had just been invited, at his own ill-concealed desire, to sit down at the piano 70 and sing British ballad;?. So the room was hushed, and Mayrose led Violet in silence to a seat whilst the gifted being poured out his warble : — "You're loo- o-o-o-king as bright as the mo-o-o-rn, lov'. You're loo-o-o-o-king as bright as the day-ay-ay, But whilst on your ciia-a a-arme I'm dila-a-a-ting, You're stea-ea-ealing my poo-o-o-or hea-eart away-ay-ay !" Lord Balbie Drone, who loved music as he did fresh air in dry weather, was enjoying this melody with his eyes shut ; and his chin on his waistcoat in a corner. Everybody else was serious, not to say sad. Mayrose could not discover Zellie, perhaps because she was concealed from him by numbers of the sad people in large chignons sitting down, and b> others perhaps sadder, in dress coats, standing up. So he reverted to Violet, who had been examining him out of the corners of her eyes with a look of injured dignity, as if there could be no forgiveness on her part unless there was entire submjssiveness and contrition on his. Not guessing, how- ever, what was in her mind, and not knowing consequently, what he had to be contrite at, Mayrose seemed amused at her serious face — a recollection of old days when she used to gi'ow angry with him if he stayed over his books instead of coming out to hsh, and play sulks with him during an afternoon. Accordingly during the second stanza of the ballad, when the audience are privileged to resume their conversation in whispers, under pretext of admiring the music, he stooped and said : '' What a wilful little thing you are, Violet ; just fancy being offended with me because I didn't know when you would be out !" ••You know we always ride in the Park from twelve till two," responded Violet, as though all the world w^ere aware of this thing. , , - : " From twelve till two ?" " Yes, papa goes with us when he can, and when he can't we ride alone with the groom — Zellie and I. Do you ride ?" added Violet demurely. '* I have no hack for the present," said Mayrose, reflecting of a sudden how much a saddle-horse might add to the comfort of life. '* Well, if 3 ou boiight a horse and rode into the Park with it, I should always be glad to see you," observed Violet, pretending to look at a picture on the wall, " and — so would Zellie." This last word was low uttered, and was moreover half drowned in the noise of the ballad, for the butter-coloured tenor was proceeding on his tuneful way : " You're smi-i-i-ilin( and that's a goo-o-o-od sign, lov', , . , Say ye-e-e-s, and you'll ue-e-e-ver repe-e-ent ; ' ' Or if you wou-ou-oukl ra-a-ther be si-i-i-lent, Your si-i-i-i-lence I'll take fo-o-o-or conse-e-e-eut ! " " Beautiful voice," said IVIayrose, gravely, when the next stanza and the bal- lad with it had been brought to a conclusion amidst sincere applause ; and now, in the general disturbance of the sad people leaving their places and forming new groups, he turned, with Violet's welcome words melting in his heart — for he had heard them, despite the music — and set eyes on Zellie. Lord Hornette was stand- ing beside the sofa where she sat, and it struck him that she appeared much less melancholy than when he had last seen her. Her lips moved to answer everything the Earl said ; she even smiled, and there was nothing to show — so far as Mayrose could see — that she was not listening to the compliments of a man ehe liked or loved. Mayrose had got apart from Violet, for a cohort of moustached men with eighteen-penny bunches in their button-lioles. Guardsmen for the most part, had come to Hit round her, and he stood a moment uncertain whether he should go away, or approach Zellie under cover of Hornetto's presence, and pay her the civil- ity of a greeting. It might look strange and uncouth if he did not, for she might catch sight of his retreating tigure. He thought he would go up to her. But he was still deliberating, when there suddenly broke upon the scene the agitated features of Dolly Drone. This burly personage had evidently been thrown into commotion by something startling, for he made straight towards his brother, ploughing himself a channel throngh the crowd with a promptitude which nothing here. was noise 71 but the habit of Society prevented from resembling a hustle ; then he touched Lord Homette on the arm, and Raid a few words in his ear. The Earl started, questioned his brother with excitement, then bowed hurriedly to Zellie, and van- ished into another room with Dolly ; but the two re-appeared in an instant, the elder brother with an ugly frown and biting his lips, the other labouring behind like a heavy brig in distress. Right towards Mayrose they came, not seeming to perceive him in their haste to reach the door ; but as they were about to brush by, Lord Homette looked up, and his features rapidly cleared. "Ah, Mayrose, it's just you we were going to look for ! It's most lucky you're here. Do come along with us, please ; something very unpleasant has happened!" "What is it?" asked Mayrose, astonished, as he allowed himself to be led by Lord Homette into the tea-room. Here they surprised the vocalist with the butter- colored head rewarding himself for his late efforts with a cup of extremely hot coffee. He appeared to think at first that this deputation of noblemen had come to congratulate him, but discovering his error just as he was preparing to smile, he slunk away as if lie had been caught singing out of tune. "Look hei, — read this!" explained the Earl, taking a newspaper from his brother and tearing it open. "Wasn't I right to tell you how people talk about the slightest thing 1 It's most awkward and insolent -—see here," and he handed May- rose the sheet, scoring the paragraph with his glove. It was a late edition of the Muffin Bell, a London evening paper of repute, and Mayrose read this : " Marriage in High Life. — Our Hiveborough correspondent telegraphs that a match has been arranged between Viscount Mayrose, the new Under-Secretary to Australia, and Ladv Azalea Carol, eldest daughter of the Earl of Rosemary, K.G., Lord Keeper." It would have been difificult to say what Mayrose felt as he scanned these lines. Certain it is that his pulses throbbed quick, and that his face twice changed color before Lord Hornette's dry, irritated voice jarred on him, crying, " You see, if it's not stopped in time tlie paragraph will be reprinted in all the morning papers. But it's only eleven, and I'm sure you won't mind going the round of all the news- paper offices and the press agencies to give this thing a flat denial. We'll go with you, but you are the only man who can speak authoritatively in the affair." , " The only man," echoed Dolly Drone, panting. CHAPTER XXI. , > A CONTRADICTION. • , ■ i v, in new If this newspaper paragraph had appeared but a few days later I If Mayrose could have met Zellie and Violet but once alone in the Park, or if that evening at Lady Belladonna's he had talked but half as long with Zellie as he had done with Violet, there would have been no need for him then to have obeyed Lord Homette, and spent a night scouring the press offices. One word from Zellie, one unmistak- able glance, would have given him heart to speak out, and if Zellie had but smiled in listening to him", there would have been an end of all perplexities, so that he might have said to Lord Hornette, " Let the pai'agraph stand." The Earl would have quarreled with him, of course ; but, after all, the happiness of his life and that of Zellie were of more account to him than Lord Hornette's good pleasure. As it was, however, nothing had occurred between Zellie and himself to alter the posi- tion of which Lord Hornette had taken advantage at Elniwood. Lady llosoiaary held said nothing which could make Mayrose supptise that Hornette had been guilty of misrepresentation ; Zellie's manner in the House of Lords could by no nipaus be construed into anything more than an indication of friendly admiration and goodwill — had he not seen her that very night chatting jnost amicably with Horn- ette / — and, in sum, he was still bound by the soleum promise he had given to the Earl. Besides, the contradictio?i cf the paragraph was not a thing that could be postponed until Mayrose had tini ^^ feel his ground anew. Even as ho stood in that tea-room fingering the new&j^. ^^,^ r confusedly, the compositors of the morning 72 journals might be aettinfi-up the annonncement in type, and every moment lost was of the utmost importance from the rightful suitor's point of view. ** You see the false news will be repeated all over the country to-morrow if we hesitate," repeated the Earl, impatiently, and with a testy j^esture, as he watched Mayrose's blank face. " Yes, I will come with you," said Mayrose, waking up, and they went down stairs together, out among the servants and linkmen, and the flare of carriage-lamps on the parement. Mayrose's brougham was called ; Lord Hornette sprang into it, but just as Dolly Drone was going to do the same his brother stopped him, " Sup- pose you go off to the Palaestra, Doll, and hunt up Nines. He's thick with all the papers, and yon two can go to three of the offices whilst we call at the others, " and the Earl hurriedly mentioned the newspapers which he ai^d Mayrose would visit. Accordingly Dolly Drone drove off obediently to that stronghold of literary Philistinism, the Palaestra Club, to disturb the Rev. Nonus Nines, whilst Mayrose and his companion sped away eastward as fast as clashing wheels could carry them. They crossed cabs jolting home with their family freights from the play- houses ; men with the collars of their great coats up, striding quickly to their lodgings and letting themselves in stealthily with their latch-keys ; policemen putting their lantern to keyholes and trying to see that doors and area-gates were safely locked. They passed clubs with their blinds down and huge shadows of men reading colossal newspapers, and maybe conning over that very insertion about the " marriage in high life;" then oyster-shops aflame with gas, red with their trophies of shell-/ii'h, and noisy with cheap revelry ; their carriage bumped over the ill-cnished stones of the macadam, and passed again loud music halls, tawdry divans, and riotous gin-palaces, pouring out their contingents of tired feasters ; and here and there bedizened forms of women hanging about street corners, and sorry fellows tottering towards the 'utche.s of these decoyers v;ith the enchanted leer of bad spirits on them. It was the hour of the night when Vice puts on her rouge and frippery over half a dozen acres of London ground, and succeeds in looking as hideous as is natural amidst a people who take so joylessly to her worship as we English do. For English Vice, with her forced jests and sham-faced looks, has small affinity with her frolicsome sisters of Paris, Vienna, and Florence, or even with that brawling relative of hers who carouses in New York. We are a dull people, who .are not seen with advantage away from our home firesides. So, pass- ing through tliese vicious precincts, the two young men rolled up the half-empty Strand towards the purer abodes where men lose their hair and sleep by preaching at vices, social or political, to the tune of groaning steam presses. At any other time it might have amused them both to brush their way up the wooden staircases of these dwellings, odorous with ink and damp paper, and to see virtuous Literature measuring out her sermons by the column of eight words to a line. The printer's devils with faces besmudged ; the reporters hugging "flimsy" against their thread- bare bosoms ; the husky gentlemen who have hurried with the first news of murders just committed, conflagrations raging, or burglaries unpublished ; those owl-lilie birds of night, the critics, whose dress coat-tails bulge agape with notes on that evening's new drama so enthusiastically applauded ; the small fry who indite para- graphs, the bigger fry wh'j pen leaders, and the editors, chief or sub., whose task it is to reduce the mass of phrasing into palatable pulp — all these persons are worth a midnight's visit, and might afford themes for study to men fresh from the echoes of women's prattle or of drawing-room tenors' minstrelsy. But if Mayrose and Lord Hornette had been old in their experience of the Fourth Estate — or Jirst Estate, judging it by its own opinion of itself — they could not have shown more indifference to the sights which met them. Reaching the seedy but illustrious mansion where one of the most potent of the papers put its conscientious beliefs into print, they alighted at the same time as a gentleman from a hansom, pre- sumably one of the conscientious staft*, who vanished through the door with his head averted, as if detection would be most grievous to him. They followed this gentleman through the door and handed their cards to a man in shirt sleeves and a paper cap, who had some crumbs of cheese on his lips, and scrambled up a stair- 73 ., pre- ith his d this and a stair- case, leaving them in a draught. Literature is aver queerly housed and has strange attendants. But the cards of a peer and a noble M. P. — the one a member of the GoTorn- ment, the other a future Duke of Bumblebeigh — commanded attention even from an Editor, to whom the great of the earth were as nino-pins. Lord Mayrose might have come from Downing-street with special information about that war in the Cocoa country, and he could not be left in a draught. The man in the paper-cap shambled down and begged their lordships to step up ; and they stepped up into the rocjm where the Editor — enthroned behind piles of letters, litters of telegrams, manuscripts in every illegible variety, and on every species of onion peel foreign paper — sat correcting the proof of a leader. He was a notable personage this — the man who, better than any historian past or present, could have written the truth about the age in which he lived, and the man who of all others would have been least tempted to write it. The knowledge he had acquired of this world's affairs would have been enough to muddle most men,, but it had not muddled him; he appeared to see clear through it all, and to have reached the pacifying impression that to-day is as yesterday, and the newest events, like old stories which Time delights to tell over and over again like a feeble aged person in his dotage. Dig- nified but humorous in mien, of manners polite and ministerial, this diplomatist of the Quill — who might have checkmated Talleyrand, and winked at Gortschakoff, if he had thought it worth while — wore a benevolent look which seemed to say that you need not be afraid of unbosoming yourself to him, for that whatever might be your commiinication he should attach but a sec(jndary importance to it. Lord Hornette, who knew this famous Editor from having dined with him at Bumblebeigh House, shook his hand and accosted him with a deference he would have shown to no other man in England — much less in Ireland — not being a Royal Prince. "We are really sorry to trespass on you at this busy hour, but something very annoying has appeared in an evening paper," said the Earl, and he forthwith explained what that something was. "I had seen the paragraph, and we should naturally have quoted it," answered the editor, with a bland look at Mayrose, implying that although these quotations were generally the business of the sub-editors who hat in a lower room, yet an event so important as his lordship's marriage would have been cared for by his own sovereign eye. '•I am inexpressibly surprised at an evening paper being so incautious," pro- ceeded Lord Hornette, in a high falsetto ; and he was too fidgetty to accept the seat which the editor oflFered him. "It was very incautious," assented the editor, but in a tone as if the prudence of evening newspapers was past praying for. "You would wish the statement denied at once ?" "Yes," said Mayrose, in reply to a second look from the editor, who appeared to scan him with interest as a man who was very young to have already made his mark in the world by a speech, and to be now signalising himself by a wrongly- imputed marriage. Unquestionably he divined that there must be a mystery under all this, which he would discover in due season, and which now accounted for May- rose being so reserved, whilst Lord Hornette was so excited and loquacious. "Yes, if you please," repeated Mayrose. "Would you kindly state that the rumour is incorrect." " Utterly unfounded and quite unjustifiable," added the Earl, warmly, as if Mayrose's words were vciy far from emphasising the full gravity of the offence. But the t'lUtor naturally adopted Mayrose's phraseology : — "I will take care the denial is printed in a conspicuous place," he said, with a smirk, and stooping over his table he wrote with his own august hand this para- graph : — "We are requested to state that the announcement published by an even- ing contemporary of a projected marriage between Viscount Mayrose and the Lady Azalea Carol, daughter of the Earl of Rosemary, K.G., is incorrect." Now there is a great difference in print between "incorrect" and "utterly unfounded," and Lord Hornette, who wished to see the garrulous Muffin Bell pul- verized, thought the contradiction as it stood unduly tame. But reflection doubtless 74 showod him that the denial of a marriage rumour must be so worded as to convey no idea of irritation — this for the lady's sake as much as for the fjontloman's — and so he suffered the above formula to servo as a model to all the other editors whom Mayrose and he bestirred after thanking and quittinpj the first one. There was not an office they left unvisited, for it occurred to the Eai-1 that if Dolly Drone had been unable to lay hands on the Rev. Nonua Nines he might not possess initiative enough to act on his own responsibility ; wherefore all the small hours were spent by them in affronting draughts, sending up cards, being smirked to and furnishing explanations. They saw one editor whose face was like an open daisy, and another in tight clothes who chirrupped round like an obsequious sparrow, wonderfully refreshed by their noble company. A third editor in slippers had a harried look, as if he feared that in a leader just then printing he had allowed a contributor to go too far ; and a fourth, with red cheek-bones, wliose editorial sanctum smelt of smoke, appeared dubious as to whetli* r his young men were going far enough. All these moulders of public opinion and others were seen, and every one was profusely obliging, more particularly those who were opposed to Mr. Paraniount's administration, and had been saying acidulated things of Mayrose. One of these was indeed so much moved on receiving the peer's card with that of a friend, that his thoughts travelled straight away to the transatlantic customs of which he was a theoretic admirer, and for once he perhaps blessed himself that he was not plying his free pen under that suggestive banner with the red stripes. However, tliis one's frozen soul melted apace when he learned that he was being prayed to do a favour, not to render a satisfactory account of words irrevocable, and he bowed his visitors to the landing with every assurance of blame for newspapers which print miptial announcements with such levity as this Mi^ffin Bell had shown. The clocks of St. Clement Dane's and St. Mary -le- Strand were drowsily chiming the third hour past midnight, and the carts of fruit and vegetables were lumbering down the Strand toward Covent Garden, when Mayrose and Hornetto came out of the last morning paper office, and met on the threshold Dolly Drone and Mr. Nines, who were just going in. Dolly Drone had not found the reverend writer at tlie r'ulxstru, but liad awoken him from the sleep of the just in hia chambers, and had claimed of himi as a friendly service to put on his trousers and come out into the cold. Then tlie two had gone together to the press agencies to get the contradiction circulated among the provin- cial journals ; after which, it being Thursday night, they liad proceeded to the printing offices of the illustrated papers published on Friday, and had luckily suc- ceeded in their mission. '' We were not a minute too soon though," smiled Mr. Nines, who looked dis- sipated from having been hurried out befcire he iiad brushed his hair ; "the papers were going to press, and had the quotation as a tit-bit among their latest news. They put on such spurts to outdo each other, that I expected to find your portrait, Mayrose, and Lady Azalea's calready on the blocks.'' " It's a sheer madness this fi)r printing impertinent remarks about one's private doings," cried Lord Hornette, with tlie voice of a steel-trap unoiled. "We'll leave it to you, Nines, to trounce the feUow who first jjut this lie into print — tell him he ought to be punished, he and his correspondent at Hiveb()r(nigh. D the man 1" " He'll be trounced enougli without me," submitted Nines, denuirely. " When he gets the morning papers he will feel as if half-a-dozen buckets of cold water had been dashed on his head, and he is a bald man too." " I wish the deuce they wore real luckets, and so does Mayrose,'' gratuitously ejaculated Lord Hornette, buttoning liis overcoat tight because of the night air, and thrusting his hands into his pockets. " I suppose wo can go and ttirn in now ; if we were in Paris we might find supper somewhere. But, eli, what's this ?" The group were standing on the pavement with tlie olfice-Limp beating down a red glare on their opera-hats ; and opposite them, ogling them as it were froui a hoarding, stared a poster which was blue and orange in tlie day time but had put on grey tints now to harmonize with the general dusk. This poster screamed : — 75 Ask for THE REPORTER I Every Morning, THE REPORTER ! One Penny. '* Why, I'm blessed, here's another of them ; they're swarming up like locusts !" growled Hornette, jerking an expletive at the poster as ho stepped into the road. "Oh no, that one won't be out for some days more," explained Mr. Nines. " It's Quintus Dexter's paper. Yon know Dexter, Mayrose? Ho and your neigh- bour Sir Ham Pennywoddle have clubbed their brains together to pour forty-eight daily columns of horrors on us." " They are very welcome," answered Mayrose, wearily; " but now, as Hornette Bays, we can go to bed. Shall I put you down anywhere. Nines ?" But Mr. Nines thanked him, saying he would rather trouble Dolly Drone, who was going his way, and so Mayrose rode home alone, but not to bed. Letting him- self in with his key, he ascended the staircase of his big, silent house, and knowing his valet Bino would be asleep long ere this — having orders not to sit up for his master after midnight — he did not go towards his bed-chamber, but into a large state drawing-room that occupied all the first lloqr. It was a strange place to haunt in these dark hours, but to a sleepless man imbued with a Continental love for open air, the long balcony skirting the five windows might seem a good place to lounge on, smoking away melancholy in a waking dream. There would be nothing uuusual in a man bpending a night in a Parisian balcony, and something might oven bo made out of the poetry of the proceeding, but it would seem as if poetical acts perpetrated in a city of coal-smoke (though for that matter Paris is smoky enough, too,) lost much of their ideality and even of their good sense. Mayrose, though, cared little for that, and was more concerned about the bleak, ghostly look which bis state apartment wore. The small candlestick he had lit at the night lamp in the hall threw a pale flicker on the dull array of chairs and sofas in their Holland covers, on the tall mirrors that reflected tlie flickering in the form of yellow flashes, on the pictures of departed Mayroses — tlie men red-coated and wigged for the most part, the women tricked out in white satin, with pointed bodices, and holding small nosegays of chlorotic flowers in their taper fingers. They seemed good bodies as they simpered in the candle light at the room where they themselves had been sim- pered to and courted during the hey-day of the Mayrose annals ; and their descend- ant could not help wondering whether they, too, had ever been crossed in their love affairs as he had, and if so, why they wore such unconscionably placid faces after it ? He softly drew up a blind, and opened one of the windows, letting the moon- light stream in above his liead with a gust of cool air that chafed his temples grate- fully ; tlien, stepping on to the balcony, he lit a cigar and leaned on the railing, feeling like a man wlio had played his first rubber in the game of life and lost it. And there would be no retrieving the loss either. Wliether it was a fatality that had separated him from Zellie, a misunderstanding or whatnot, the papers would be spreading it in a few hours among Englishmen all the world over, that Zellie was never to be his wife. Had he acted well or weakly in keeping faith with Hornette was a question past discussion now ; the thing was done, and Zellie and he stood wider apart than if one of them were dead. He gazed wistfully into the deserted square below him, with its leafless trees unstirred by a breath of wind, and its houses around all hushed ; and he conjured up a last vision of wliat might have been and wliut was — the vision of Zellie animating tliat cheerless room behind him, gladdening the old chambers and passages with the music of her voice, and the light sound of her footfalls, and making of the lifeless, childless house a bright home again. It was a fair idyll that had grown up nnawares and must be dispelled now forever, like other dreams that vanish nnremembered. And yet not unremembered, for the earth keeps a trace of the flower that has been plucked up, and so does the heart. As the first grey streak of dawn was breaking over the roofs facing him to 76 tho east, M;iyro8o turned westward in the direction where ZoUio must be sleeping and blew a kiss — " Ood bloss you, durlinj? — diirlinj? t" CHAPTER XXII. '• GOOD 'lL COMK of IT." A few liourH later, the exiitradiction duly fi<»urod in all the papers as the several editors had promised, and oxcitftd comment over tho breakfast-tables of society. Among those who frei^uented Rosemary House and Bumblebcigh House, and really knew fiomothing of both families, it was supposed that tho peccant Muffi,n Bell had through editorial inadvertence, or a misprint, inserted Lord Mayroso's name instead of Lord Ilornette's, and that a new paragraph would soon announce the betrothal of Lady Azalea Carol to tho heir of the Bumblebeighs. This was tho version which Dolly Drone and the ladies Drone, in short all the Drone connection, circulated in all the clubs and drawing-rooms throughout the day — not by downright statement but by hints — and indeed it was the only way of accounting for a public denial s(» plain. It is always a delicate matter to deny the report of a marriage. If the rumor had been merely incorrect as regarded Mayrose, and if Lady Azalea had been engaged to no one else, it would have been quite sufficient to bog the morning papers not to quote the erroneous paragraph, and the denial, if any, should liave teen confined to tho one journal which had first given currency to the error; but, of course, if Lady Azalea were definitely engaged to Lord Hornette, and if the mar- riage were near, a wide denial was proper. Lord Hornette, who knew, when his first excitement was over, that ho had been guilty of singular presumption and bad taste in publishing Lady Azalea's name, without first consulting herself and her parents — was at Rosemary House before nine o'clock in the morning, so that he might see L')rd Rosemary, and if possible the Countess, before either of them could have had time to bo startled by the papers ; and Mayrose arrived shortly after, as in duty bound, to explain his own share in the transaction. To Mayrose no blame whatever could attach. Presuming that Hornette was Zellio's accepted suitor, it had been his clear obligation to do as tho Earl had requested — the latter being the best judge of what was due to his future wife. This he had no trouble to explain, and lie was more intent on expressing his sincere I'egreta that his nnme should have been coupled with Zellio's without any warranty on his part. Lady Rosemary, who had come come down in some agitation at this unlooked for incident, kindly absolved hira both in woi'ds and in her own mind; but when Mayrose was gone and Lord Hornette remained with the Earl and Countess, it was gravely agreed among them that Zellio must now be spoken to without delay. Lord Rosemary did not seem quite to grasp the bearings of the whole question, though he was con- scioiis that everybody was looking annoyed, and that it was decent for him to ap- pear annoyed too ; but Lady Rosemary perceived that hy one of his prompt high- handed moves Lord Hr)rnette had made himself master of the situation, and had rendered it almost impossible for Zellio to refuse him. She could not condemn him so severely for this a^ she might have done had she been judging such conduct in relation to strangers, tor a mother must needs forgive a great deal of sharp strat- egy when it is dictated by a love for her child, and of Lord Hornette's jealous love there could now be no doubt. With a readiness that was not unmanly he begged leave to return at mid-day to propose in form to Zellio, after which, said he, if he were happily accepted, the eveningjpaper which had first talked of the marriage could be asked to print that tho substitution of Mayroso's name for his was — as society was being led to infer— a mere typographical blunder. So all would be well that ended well. This was also the reflection that occurred to Sir Ham Pennywoddle when the paragraph declaring Mayrose's rumoured nuptials to be incorrect reached him at breakfast, sweetening his toast ; but the paragraph was not equally welcome to the irresponsible author of the rumour — Mr. Quintus Dexter ; for it was none other than that gentlemen who, strolling into the office of the Muffin Bell, had given his friend the editor the piece of news, knowing it would be made use of ; and in so 77 if he could n the im at o the other en his in so doing ho hiid tictud in soinu sunsu with good fuith. In utFoct, ho boliuvod tlmt tho news ho bruited was trno, but hia wish liud boon father to the boliuf. Ho had cogent reason for desiring that tho owner of Springflold should disappear from the roll of oligiblu bachelors, and the contradiction was as tuiploasant to him as if some scheme of his had been thwarted. Perhaps, some scheme was being thwartod. Certainly Mr. Dexter would now bo obliged to hear tho peer's perfections chanted again with a provoking significance by Sir Ham, who had been mournfully silent on this theme since what ho termed "that younj? chap's foolishness" had boon made known to him. It was arrant fooliHliness according to Sir Ham, for a young cliap who could not a big dowry to angle for a snallor one, " the more so as 1 don't be- heve in Lady 'Zalea's twenty thousand pounds a year," ho had said with peevish Holeir.nity to Mr. Dexter. " Lord Uosemary's property is mostly under entail, and girls don't get entail. I know it, for Lawyer Deedes told me so, and 1 was partic'lar in asking." Thus had Sir Ham fre bo present. Mr. Dexter hoped to find there, and to concert with, a few of the gentlemen who were to be on his staff ; and he found the Rev. Nonus Nines. "So you are really going to start a panny-dreadful. Dexter," laughed that di- vine, ;is the barrister, neat and cold as a new pin, entered the reading room. Mr. Nines was stretched in an arm-chair, near a blazing coal-fire, with a number of a Positivist Review in his hands. " Yes," nodded Mr. Dexter ; " and I was going to ask you to write in it. You shall have five pounds a column — ecclesiastical law." " Church matters are not much in my competence," answered the reverend gentleman ; " but who are your other men /" " There's the list," said Mr. Dexter, " if the team breaks down it will be from bad driving." " Yes, the cattle are good enough," admitted Mr. Nines, glancing at the list. "It's going to be a real steady coach, then /" " Who doubted it ?" replied Mr. Dexter. " We shall start in a fortnight with a series of thorough-going niimbors, and we ought to be a power before the year's over. I am arranging for a French, a German, and a Yankee correspondent, who are to send us foreign trials summarized racily ; we shall print three column lead- ers a day, and three or four short ones ; and there will be special papers — pen- sketches of the judges turn by turn, and jiiison-essays from a commissioner who is going the round of the gaols, asylums, and penal establishments." "That's most attractive," said Mr. Nines, gravely. " And how about tho ad- vertisements ?" "There will be plenty of them through my partner's city friends ; and so you have the whole programme before you," answered Mr. Dexter, with dry serious- ness. Then glancing more narrowly at Mr. Nines, " You look as if you have been making a night of it." " So I have, with a trio of flurried magnates," yawned Mr. Nines, putting up the Positivist Review before his mouth ; and he humorously recounted to Mr. Dex- ter his last night's round o' '^' ^newspaper oflSces. "From what I could see, be- )ing to marry the lady, and Mayrose would like to Nonus Nines, in whispered conclusion. • t V inquired Mr. Dexter, attentively. r. Nines, looking about to see that none over- tween you and me, Hornett, be in his place," added the L ' ' What makes you think " Mayrose's own face," ." 78 heard him. ** He is a capital fellow, and can't conceal his impressions as you do, mi Quinte. I wonder at the lady preferring Homette. but I suppose money is at the bottom of it." " I suppose so," responded Mr. Dexter, indifferently ; " money is at the bot- tom of most things ; but now I've some letters to write before going to make terr.s with that printer. May I rely on you for the lieporter ? The prosecution of tuu Bishop of Stepney against half a dozen of his maddest curates is coming on soon. You'll find plenty to say about it." *' Very well," agreed Mr. Nines, as if writing for one paper more or luas was no trouble to a mai of his resources. "I see you'v^j one of the judges on your lial. Will he do his own portrait and that of his brethren ?" "He shall pull his brethren's judgments t) bits if he finds the work to his taste," laMghed Mr. Dexter, and so, pushing back a pair of glass dooi's, he walked across the tesselated floor of the hall to the writing room. The new editor was not sorry to have cp.ptured Mr. Nines, for Mr. Nines had his va)ue in the journalistic market ; besides which, adept as he was in that species nf literature which consists in pointing out the "unwisdom" antl the "questionable taste'' of things, he would not have failed to launch some grave censure at the "penny-dreadful" if he had not been directly interested in its welfare. Mr. Dexter '-rote several letters on the Palsstra cliib-paper, appropriately stamped with the figures of two wrestling men and a motto recalling the combative virtues of literature, and then he lunched with two or three of his future contri- butors, smooth and discreet men all of them so far as externals went. There was an Irishman, of course, and the usual Colonel in a huff with the War Office who ha.' turned military critic, and was strong on points of army law ; an aspirant Solicitor-General, who was for cheapening procedure ; and a clever man who had been refused a County-court judgeship, and tliought the system of legal patronage required looking into. With these supporters Mr. Dexter held a sort of counsel, after which he had t(» see his printer, as stated, and this work absorbed him till close on four, at which hour he had an appointment with Sir Ham at the Houso of Commons to tell him exactly "what the printer's terms would be. The printer was a long-headed Welsh gentleman, who, making his income — and a pretty fair one — by launching newspapers, gave to all projectors of such enterprises the coursel to have nothing to do with them. To hear him talk of the journalistic enterprises which he had seen founder was depressing in the extreme, and one gathered from his rema.r»zs that humanity was divided into two classes — the one of men who were desperately resolved in spite of remonstrances on bringing out now journals, the other of persons who absolutely declined to buy them. In support of these views he handed to customers specimen copies of departed papers, which had perished miserably after a struggling career, leaving assets to the extent of one half-penny per lumdred pounds to be divided among the creditors. It was perhaps fortunate that Sir Ham had delegated the conducting of all business preliminaries t'« Mr. Dexter, for utterances of this kind might have damped him ; but Mr. Dexter was never to be damped. His confidence in all he \indertook was most brisk, and for this once even the old Welsh printer was beginning to catch some sparks of it. The same might be said of the cautious business man who was t(j act as publisher ; of the news-agents, who were hardened sceptics by profession as to all that concerned the chances of new journals ; of the advertisement agents, who had never known such things pay ; and of the upholsterer who was to furnish the .Reporter office, and who had enquired at first, without meaning wrong, whether the fittings were to bo made strong as if for a permanency ? Nothing seemed more promising of permanency to Mr. Dexter than the gigantic enterprise he was going to pilot ; and bowling towards Westminster in a hansom, he hummed securely as he eyed the flaunting REPORTER posters which embellished all the hoardings on his way. Up Westminster Hall he str^'.de, through the passage where the statues of the twii Pitts look down with wonder on the race of statesmen we make nowadays, and so into the public lobby, where many members who regretted his departure from among them nodded to him and shook him by the hand. Mr. Dexter took his dtand by the counter where a maiden sells oranges to the thirsty, and was shortly ■but 79 1 to )rises "rom were the she shed eiiny mate Mr. was for The ;of rnecl own ffice, were g of and the my- es CI ays, ture took artly joined by Sir Ham Pennywoddle, who had been at work for two hours on a com- mittee, and looked unconquerably nonplussed after hearing so much conflicting talk from counsel and members, who had been perspiring every one of them to make a water bill intricate. " I wish they wouldn't all talk together, Dexter," said the worthy knight, mopping his brow with a silk handkerchief, and dragging the bar- rister after him to one of the tea-rooms. " You'll get used to it," suggested Mr. Dexter, pleasantly. " Yes, but it makes one feel like flies buzzing in one's head, it do," remarked the knight; adding, "I suppose you've come about the noospaper matters. But talking . What indeed had she been thinking all the morning — first when her maid, tjuit busy Miss Stitchett, had brought her an early copy of a paper with the famous contradiction ; then when Violet, flushed with indignation, had trampled the paper under her little foot ; and, lastly, when Lady Rosemary had come and talked tenderly with licr for an hour, seeming to plead the suit of Lord Hornette ? What do girls think when their first hopes are blighted — when a man proves false, or, bjved in secret, appears to spurn them ? Zellie had vowed to Violet that she would never give a promise to Lord Hornette, but this was before Mayrose had let it go forth to the world that he would not have her for his wife. Now she had no care whom she married — the bud that has be-m broken ofl' its stem and thrown on the ground, anybody may pick up. If Zellie's education had put her in the category of girls who do way- ward things, no doubt she might have vowed never to marry — she might have asked to go into a con\ ent, or have talked of poison. But her ti'aining had left her with the knowledge that she had some duties towards her parents as well as to- wards herself ; and since marry she nnist at some time or other, unless society was to 1)6 set whispering and wondering, and since again she could never love another man, why n )t marry Lord Hornette, who was a gentleman and a true one ? Pride, perhaps, aided this reasoning, for the girl who had cleared that hedge when May- rose had fallen from his hoise was not a woman of tame spirit, not one who would pine away under a slight real or apparent. So — to sum up — when Lord Hornette came to woo Zellie he was accepted, though with what words or under what re- serves there is no saying, f(n- the young peojile were alone, and noboiy even knew wl'at had passed between them. But when the Earl left Rosemary House at aoout the hour when Mr Dexter and Sir Ham Pennywoddle were holding their conversation he looked ! atisfied enough. There was an air of victory on his face, and possibly he too, was reflecting, " Good will come of it." 80 : ■ CHAPTEK XXIII. ''•'■' i ' REMEDIA AMORIS. When a man has been unfortunate in a love affair, the circumstance has some hidicrous aspects, apart from the keener miserj' endured. He must contrive to avoid meeting the late object of his affections ; and one never discovers how small the world is until one tries to avoid meeting somebody in it. Nothing but a long trip abroad will quite answer tiip purpose, and the unwritten laws of Society do, in- deed, prescribe that a rejected lover shall take himself out of the way until the lady he failed to win has been happily married to his rival. He may wait for the tidings of this event in continental hotels. The London papers will reach him in the morn- ing or the evening, as tlie case may be ; and his anxiety to procure them as soon as they are due will make him a valuable critic on the irregularities of the foreign postal services. The public may not be aware how much they are indebted for the safe transmission of their letters and papers to exiled lovers, who write to the Times from Paris, Home, Cairo, to complain of postal delays tliat are worrying them, and to suggest reforms. Some of them are good enough to compile statistical tables recording the exact hours at which their papers reached them on thirty suc- cessive days of the month ; and in countries where the authorities vary the occa- sional tardiness of delivery by confiscating the papers altogether, the lover is apt to grow warm with a sudden zeal for the free institutions he has left behind him. When the printed news of the marriage at last arrives it may come as a welcome relief, or the lover may think it has readied him too soon after all ; but, in either case, he must pray against tlie crowding .rial that may befall an exile — that of hav- ing the honeymoon of the c: iple from whom he has fled intruded abruptly upon Lim in the place of his concealment. A lover, strolling moodily down the staircase of a far-off hotel, has befo- ^ now come upoi? a, muffled pair ascending behind alac- ritous waiters and chambermaids, and followed by a company of porters groaning under British luggage. He has stood aside to let the group pass, and has seen — what ? Happily this acute pang acts as a signal that his quarantine is at an end, and that the ports of England are once more open to him. Unluckily for Mayrose, he could not fly to the Continent and roam there tiU Zellie and Lord Hornette were married, for he had to help govern Australia. Dur- ing a few days he was sorely tempted to fling that favoured colony far from him, and to start ott", like the man in "Locksley Hall," and set up in a wigwam with a squaw to rear his dusky race. He began to know the petty misery of shrinking from dining out or going to re intricate, many of these invitations came from members of the house of Drone, among whom he was much thrown, owing to his connection with Lord Balbie, and by whom he could not but feel that he was being treated with great cordiality and kindness. This uncomfortable imbroglio lasted a week or more, and then Mayrose learned, in common with the rest of the world, that Lord Hornette had proposed to Zellie, that he had been accepted, and that the marriage was to take place at the end of the season. The announcement was first made to him in a friendly manner, not devoid of tact, by Lord Hornette himself, and Mayrose was so far calmed by it that he resolved, as many another man has done before him, to find solace for his disappointment in work — hard ceaseless work. As the wigwam idea was boarcely feasible, he would go out on to the war path against abuses in yonder Australia office, where abuses were plentiful so far as he could see, and had needed, looking to for years. This was a brave scheme, truly ; but here again Mayrose's love-entanglement was disastrous, for it obliged him to keep aloof from Rosemary House f.t a time when the Countess's advice was almost indispensible to him. Inexperien jed as he was in official ways, new to society, and not yet conscious that a man can be over rash in well-doing as in other matters, he required to be told v.ho were the people he must be wary of offending, and abo'* all to h hunting There h thought things ; many ca imbeddc oflicfal a eyes tnc set out 1 windmi nent Un strrlvC oj looked S about s, 1 hv iiger uaiiy of ality to c "li as he hel that one " Tl] cleaning of your p a bo. iivi of whicli "Ai to claim t of our off. "Sor ness," wai on the wa expeditioi "Th( Keane-Mi tacles ovej tive, Mr. ; responden you have t raised his ; " Doei have been pect a Seci " May tone of on( hundred a remunerati " No, ] bably ask f( glancing at this time. "Oh I" veying any transferabk papers on t benevolentl King Cocoa rid, the flrat self, has roik. lath he uly ; to most and he all to be cautious as to how he started on such an adventurous expedition as abuse- hunting — for abuses are not to be tilted at, egad ! one must circumvent them. There have been men who went out into the abuse-field armed with a scythe, and thought they did fine work because thcj strewed the ground with a litter of chopped things ; but this was of no more use than if they had mown away the tufts of so many carrots, leaving the root and body of the vegetables safe under earth. Deeply imbedded as an acacia tree, and with roots as strong and wide-spreading, is the oflii.:al abuse, so that the man who extirpates but one in a life-time may close his eyes Lud say, us Augustus did, "Plauditc." From ignorance of all this, Mayrose set out to master the Australia Office with no less fire than Quixote did to fell the windmi Is, and he speedily came into collision with Mr. Keane-Midge, the Perma- nent Under-Secretary. "Orood morning," said that valued public servant, as Mayrose arrived on the strrke of ten one day, and sat down to his desk in a well-warmed room, that over- looked St. James's Park. Mr. Keane-Midge, who nas sixty years old or there- abi . had come in with some blue papers, and looked unutterably venerable as lie .iigered these treasures. " Good morning !" ho smiled. " I have worked with iiany of your predecessors, but never saw one who set siich an example of punctu- ality to our clerks." "I am not more punctual than yourself, Mr. Midge,'' said Mayrose, civilly, as he held o •+ .i hand for the papers. " The fact is, I find there is so much work that one would need all the night as well as the day to get through it." " There is a great deal of work," assented Mr. Keane-Midge, sitting down and cleaning his gold-rimmed spectacles with his coat-skirt. " I wonder now how some of your predecessors got through it, for they toiled less than you do." ' r. tli^ps they were like that Frenchman who put all his letters unopened in a bo.:, and read them at the end of the year. He generally found that the matters of whicli ti'ey treated had got settled very well without his assistance." " A new idea," observed Mr. Keane-Midge, thoughtfully, as if he were ready to claim that Frenchman as a brother. " I think two-thirds of the correspondence of our oiBce might be dealt with in that way. " " Somebody here seems to liave thought so too, judging by thiaCocoanib busi- ness," was Mayiose's remark, uttered with a sigh. "I have to answer questions on the war in the House of Lords this afternoon, and it appears to me the whole expedition could have been avoided by a timely letter to the black King." " The matter concerned the African oflice more than ourselves," answered Mr. Keane-Midge, more and more thoughtful as he inserted the branches of his spec- tacles over his ears. " I shall always lay the blame of that expedition on my rela- tive, Mr. Drone-Midge, of the other department; "though it's true that a cor- respondence with negroes is taxing and unprofitable. But that reminds me that you have not yet appointed a private Secretary," and the Permanent Mr. Midge raised his ancient eyebrows. " Does talMng of negroes remind you of Secretaries?" smiled Maja-ose. " I have been employing one of the gentlemen downstairs up to the present, but I ex- pect a Secretary this very day." " May I ask if he belongs to the office?" inquired Mr. Keane-Midge, in uue tone of one who could have suggested a candidate of his own for this post of four hundred a year. It was one of the qualities of Mr. Keane-Midge that when a remunerative post was vacant he could ahviys name a candidate for it. " No, he is a second-class clerk in the Waste Paper Office ; and I shall pro- bably ask for his transfer to this department in the same capacity," replied Mayrose, glancing at the clock. " He is a cousin of mine, and ouglit to have been here by this time. I appointed ten o'clock." " Oh I" said the venerable Mr. Keane-Midge, bending his head, and without con- veying anytliing in his intonation but a wish to live on perfect lorms with this transferable clerk, intruder though he were ; and thereon ho rose, leaving the blue papers on the table. " I had better quit you for the present, perhaps," he added, benevolently. " If you require any further facts in preparing your answer about King Cocoanib, I shall be happy to furnish them. But I would abide by this point, that we are not prepared to give explanations of a detailed character ; that will be the pith of Lord Albert's answer in the Commons." "A pithy answer, too," remarked Mayrose; "but before you go, Mr. Midge, would you mind giving me one word of information on the business of the office, which seems to me to be conducted in a manner wholly unintelUgible. I wished to confer with Lord Albert about it. I find clerks who have been employed here fif- teen years, and who do all the work, whilst others who are new and three times aa well paid do nothing; the latter are entitled to a pension after ten years, the former get no pension if they serve twenty. How is that ?" It's an old practice of the office," said Mr. Midge, like one who alludes to an interesting relic of great antiquity; "the clerks you mean are supernumeraries, only employed for temporary work." ' " Temporary work, though, when it lasts fifteen and twenty years, looks to me much like permanency. "What is a temporary clerk to do with himself if you turn him out without compensation after he has wasted all his manhood in the office ? But again, why take in supernumeraries when you have such a large staff of per- manent clerks ail idling?" " It's an old practice of this and other offices to confine each set of clerks to their special duties. It has never been considered expedient to occupy the superior and better paid clerks with mere copying work." " I could understand that if you gave them some occupation of a higher order ; but see here, I had to deal yesterday with a business which was just submitted to my predecessor, and I have had the curiosity to follow the windings of it. A letter was sent to this office nine months ago by a person who wanted to find out some- thing about the land-grants in the Kangaroo Colonj'. His letter was opened, stamped, and registered by a clerk at ^600 a year, who passed it on to another at ^800, by whom it was endorsed with a query, and then referred to my predecessor, who laid it before the late Australian Secretary, bj' whom it was referred back for answer to a chief clerk at ^900 a year. This chief clerk ordered a subordinate at i;300 to write to the Governor of Kangaroo ; a clerk at il250 copied the letter ; one at £150 put it in an envelope and addressed it, and nine months after we get a reply from the Governor giving the information required, but adding that he had gone minutely into this very subject in a despatch forwarded to us two years ago! Now couldn't the clerk at .£ 600 and the one at £800 have managed the whole matter between them by simply referring to the Governor's original despatch, and drafting an answer which the applicant would have received within two days ?" " It is not the practice of the office to return hurried answers," rejoined Mr. Keane-Midge, reflectively, "nor do I know of a system by which we could any of us be kept conversant with the contents of despatches. We receive too many of them ; they fill three large rooms!" "Well, it seems to be the practice of the office to give every one as little brain work as possible," replied Mayrose ; " but suppose j'ou and I lay our heads to- gether, Mr. Midge, and try to simphfy old practices ? Thej-e are several other matters on which I may have to ask your assistance, and I make no doubt Lord Albert would assent to any sensible proposals. For the present, however, I wUl just look through these papers and qualify myself to tell the House of Lords that we have no explanations to give them." And with this valediction Mayrose betook himself to the despatches, whilst Mr. Keane-Midge retired, with v/isdom and quiet affability radiating from lis whole person, so that they must have warmed the very soldiers parading in the Mall under the windows. But for all this, and in his heart of hearts, the Permanent Mr. Keane-Midge was not delighted at the above dialogue, and still less so at Mayrose's purpose of introducing a cousinly clerk from another office into a confidential post. When a disturbance is threatened in a State Department it is well that the breaker of the peace — that is the innovator, iibuse-reformer, or dignity him by what euphemism you will — should be made to feel that he stands hko an IsLmael in the office, with no cousin by his side, but vvitli everv man's hand against him. In this way he is brought to his senses the faster. Mr. Keane-Midge coult. detect the signs of a distu: study was goi into th( disturbc tween t uomina! details, day wh determii count tc gentlem; be worsi occasion have str choosing Private among t] true spir Midge in Permane his own ( cousin be Shor " Mr. Qi This ferring to will be se( Richard I (laughters they were ty of Midc as well as Hampstea^ Fulham L dared it vi Hampsteac pose, and ! two. The prehend tb that he liac field ; the son, iiis wi Lord Mayr relative. ] born, wJio ; sisters — wh father was had amasse industry ; i nothing of i man. So 5 Australia tl Hampstead a disturbance long before thej' were visible to other eyes, and it was a very short study of Maj'rose which had convinced him that liere was a young man now who was going to make himself as pleasant as the hedge-hog did when he was invited into the snug place where the toads were. Properly, there should have been no disturbance possible, because there should have been no conflict of attributes be- tween the two Under-Secretaries, Parliamentary and Permanent ; but where the nominal head of a department loves brown-bread biscuits more than administrative details, the pair of subalterns aro apt to clash together for mastery. So from the day when Mr. Keane-Midge had seen Mayrose come to the office and betray a determination either to be guided by Lord Balbie i.r to gixide him, but on no ac- count to be dictated to l)y Mr. Keane-Midge, this Permanent and irresponsible gentleman had foreseen that trials were at hand. He might prevail, or he might be worsted and submit with good grace, as he had done when worsted on other occasions ; but any way he woxild make a fight of it, and therefore he would gladly have strengthened himself by recommending to Mayrose a Secretary of his own choosing — one who could be depended on. There is much in the influence of a Private Secretary. A nominee of Mr. Keane-Midge's, carefuUj'- selected from among the pet clerks of the establishment, would have initiated Mayrose into the true spirit of the office, dissixaded him from meddling, or at worst have kept Mr. Midge informed of what things wore brewing against his woal. This is wliy the Permanent Under-Secretary might have been heard murmuring as he withdrew to his own desk and pigeon-holes, " I was not aware he had cousins. Who can that cousin be ?" Shortly afterwards a messenger brought in a card to Mayrose with the name, " Mr. Quiipin Leech, Tal)boo Club." CHAPTER XXIV. A I'IKCE OF NF.POTISM. ' / any of lauy of le braiu ads to- ll (ithor l Lord I will lis that whilst whole c Mall This Mr. Quiipin Leech was Mayrose's cousin on the maternal side. By re- ferring to the extract from the Peerarfe quoted in the tirst chapter of this tale, it will be seen that Mayrose's father ' A married "Emily, sixth dang! ar of Sir Richard Leech, of Hampstead, 1?~^ Oonnnissioner at Bagpore." Of the other five daughters and of the six sons of Sir Richard, the Pfcrage makes nu mention ; but they were a fruitful race, whose seed covered the earth, and principally the Coun- ty of Middlesex, and who established thriving branches of their dynasty at Fulham as well as Hampstead. But one must not confound the Fulhani Leeches with the Hampstead Leeches. At the time when Mayrcse's father was nearly ruined, the Fulham Leeches, who were connected with tlae city, and had riverine villas, de- clared it was scandalous on his part— most inoonsi'lerate and dishonourable ; the Hampstead Leeches concluded the wretched peer had not ruined himself (m pur- pose, and so pitied him. This, however, led to a very natural schism between the two. The Fulham Leeches, who were the moi-e numerous, and had reasons to ap- prehend that the embarrassed peer might c-ome to them for loans — it is to he feared that he had some such design — ceased visitinij at Berkeley Square an >m3e whence Lord Mayrose had married Miss Emily— kept up friendly relations with their noble relative. Now, Mr. Quiipin Tjuech was the seventh son of Sir Richard's eldest born, who lived at Hampstead ; and Mayrose had seen something of hira and of his .sisters — who made a gathering of fourteen in all — during his childh-tod. The father was well off", but not rich, for he had inherited the bulk of what Sir Richaid bad amassed as CommisBJonfr at Bagpore without adding anything to it by kia own industry ; and the Sv^hooliiig of seven sons blessed with good appetites, x.o say nothing of seven daughters equally favoured by Heaven, operates draininglj on a man. So Mayrose had no sooner beeii gazetted to the Under-Secretaryship for Australia than he had received a batch of well- written letters, in which a-x if the Hampstead sons reminded him of their existence, and gave him an account ri their capabilities. Likewisn, the Fulham Leeches posted him notes of congratulation, and announced themselves all capable and ready to draw Government salaries, for now that all danger of loan-begging was over, and that Mayrose seemed likely in- deed to make a figure in the world, th.at unpleasant busiueas of the ruin was of course generously forgiven and forgotten. Let it be added that Mayrose had not waited for the letters from Hampstead to remember his mother's kinsfolk. Soon after returning to England he had f(jrwarded them a packing-case full of odds and ends — shawls, Turkisli bahouches, Maltese filigree jewellery, Dieppe ivories, etc., which he had bought on his travels ; and immediately after his appointment he had paid an afternoon visit to Hampstead and been regaled with a dinner. The result of that visit was that Mayrose had volunteered to employ Quilpin Leech, the youngest son, as his secretary. He had not seen this youth at Hampstead, but had formed a favorable opinion of him, in the first place, because he was the only one of the seven sons who had nctt written to him, and in the next, because Mr. Quilpin had been in the Harrow eleven, and had taken a first-class in mathematics at Oxford. This seemed to justify a little nepotism on his behalf ; and hereon it may be oVjserved that nepotism, such as the heedless understand it, is rarely to be met with in the polite world. A man does not say, " I will appoint a dull relative of mine to a post of emolument simply because he is my kinsman ;" but he says, " I will appoint my kinsman beet, use he must needs be a shari) fellow, and because a man is better served by his relf.tives than by other persons." Like many of us, Mayrose would have severely judged a political opponent who should have created warm berths for his family, but he felt no scruple in oflfering £400 a year and a responsible station to a cousin wiiom he scarce knew ; ior this was a dilierent mat- ter. Nevertheless, having last beheld Quilpin Leech at that period of hobblede- hoyhood when a boy's trousers are 'oo shori for him, he felt a little curious to see what manner of youngster the mes&enger wovld now introduce. " Mr. Quilpin Leech," said tiie uieKsonger, and admitted a young man of tvi'euty- five, who walked up to Mayrose with a look of gratuitous solemnity, and hold out a hand covered with a reddish glove. In a log it must have looked as if this hand and its fellow had been abnormally frost-bitten and swollen ; and Mr. Quilpin ex- tended it in a flabby fashion, as if he wished to get it weighed. " I am afraid you'll think I'm late,"" he then began, drawing out a silver watch and turning its face tnwards Mayrose. 'Charles Lambe, though, used to say he could walk from Cluiring Cross to Temple Bar in no time and gain five minutes. Difference of clocks, you see. My dial says jur,t ten." " Well, sit down. You would have been welcome at any time," smiled May- rose, liking this exordium. " I think it"s a long time since we've met." " Yes ; we rode donkeys over Hampstead Heath," assented Mr. Quilpin, find- ing a chair and sitting on the edge of it. His face was tui'ned to the light, and appeared to Mayrose not unlike a serK>us rat's. Nature must haA'e originally intend- ed to arch his small grey eyes with an nverhangiug brow, then have repented of such a scheme and drawn the brow right back to the apex of the head like a slope. At this apex there stood up like a crest a rellious wisp of hair, which would have nothing to say to tlie parting at the back, nor he pressed into service for the trout parting down the side. It stood there and nodded, giving the head a wideawake aspect that was l^frhtened by the r( xnarkable volume of Mr. Leech's em-s, which stood straight ouWike jug-handles. An expression of rueful gravity completed this prepossessing countenance. Mr. Leech looked as if he had never employed the muscles of his face to laugh with, and as though a smile, had one been coaxed from him, must have hurt him. "Y % n / / '/ Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 l/x Ir. Leech did not seem to think this, and proved it by a sliglit twitching of his lower jaw, as if he were swallowing something hot. " We can talk of your case all the same before to-morrow, and we will, if we sit up the night for it," he observed glumly; "but now I'll l^ave you, and I'll come to take Miss Marvell down wlien everything's ready. But mind, I've told Lord Mayrose that I've a case for his notice. So bring an appetite with you, for yom' redress is in the bud." " You're a good lad," muttered the old man, shambling feebly back to his desk. " I'll finish ray case, though, for this new paper. Friends seem mustering up around me at last, but God knows I can't afford to lose one of them." 91 his if we come Lord yom- desk. And whilst his comforter withdrew, Mr. Marvell bent over his work and shi\ ered with cold, though the air was tepid outside. His pen crinkled over the paper^ the sheets slid away from him when filled, deeper and deeper grew the fire in his eyes ; and he wrote and wrote — tales of wrongs and sufferings, and appeals for right, which would never be read — unless, indeed, there be a power which takes account of such appeals, and dockets them among archives which are not of this. earth. Mr. Job Marvell was a man who had " a grievance." CHAPTER XXVI. A HAN WITH A QBIEVANCE. But what is a man with a grievance ? Well, so far as Mr. Marvell was con- cerned, the explanation can be given briefly. In days when he was not white- haired, and bestowed care on his person, Mr. Marvell had held an appointment under Government in one of the Aiistralian colonies. It was a responsible post, which means that the titulant was an object of spirited envy to place-hunters at home, and a butt for never-ending criticisms to the people whose affairs he had to regulate abroad. Mr. Marvell, however, got on fairly with enviers and detrac- tors till destiny sent him as a subordinate au off-shoot of the two great houses of Drone and Midge, with whom he found it impossible to get on at all. This was a pity, for by doing himself a little violence he might have got on as well with the young Drone-Midge as with the others ; and it is to be noted that there are some people with whom one must get on just as one gets into a highly starched shirt every morning, however uncomfortable the starch may feel at first. But perhaps Mr. Marvell under-estimated the moral worth of the young Drone-Midge or the strength of his family connections ; anyhow there was that want of cordiality between the two wliich can never be fully appeased until one of the parties goes to the wall. Now Mr. Marvell tried to plant the young Drone-Midge against the wall, and the young Drone-Midge butted back with both his horns down, like a very ener- petic young goat, as he was. Mr. Marvell wrote despatches to the Home Govern- ment praying that Mr. Drone-Midge might be recalled if Her Majesty's service was to be conducted as heretofore ; and Mr. Drone-Midge sent counter despatches as also private letters heaping up charges against Mr. Marvell, and averring that Her Majesty's service could in no manner proceed if this official retained his place. In such junctures one must either concede the principle tliat a chief may exact impUcit obedience from his subordinates and require their suymaiy dismissal when they are fractious, or one must take up the contrary position that the fractious subordi- nate, if well connected, has a right to demand the recall of his uncongenial chief. The Home Government, represented throughout these difficulties by Mr. Keane- Midge, tiie permanent and irresponsible Under-Secretary of the Australia Office, declined committing itself to either of these views, but advised Mr. Marvell to be more accommodating ; with this result, that the young Drone-Midge, feeling him- self supported, followed his own courses, the affairs ot Her Majesty's service got into a mess, and Mr. Marvell bore the blame, being responsible, whereas Mr. Drone-Midge was not. Additional acid wur infused into the business by the con- duct of some of the mercantile colonists, over whose goings on Mr. Marvell had kept a somewhat too sharp eye, and who, now divining that a well-connected and well-bred young official like Mr. Drone-Midge must be more powerful than a man who owed his position to mere merit, retaliated on Mr. Marvell for the grudges they owed him, and took the subordinate's part. So in the upshot it came to thir,, that when blames innumerable had accumulated on Mr. Marvell's head for mis- mauagement, which was none of his making, when half the mercantile community were aiTayed against him, and when the other half who had taken no sides in the dispute at first were growing clamorous, for the sake of rest, that the dispute should end somehow — then a squabbhng matter arose in which either Mr. Marvell or Mr. Drone- Midge must be culpable, though both could not be so. Let us bo sure that Mr. Drone-Midge acted at this stage of the crisis, as he had done throughout, with. 9d perfect good faith, and that it was a sincere grief to him that he could not co-oper- ate with his chief as he would have desired ; on the other hniid, let there be no doubt that the Permanent Mr. Kcane-Midge's long experience at the AustraUa office enabled him to decide, with the utmost equity, who was censurable in a quarrel where a relative of his own was one of the contendants. He did decide, and judging, as we should all of us have done, that the blame must lie on Mr. Marvell, who was chief and responsible, and not on Mr. Drone-Midge, who was subordinate and irresponsible, he requested Mr. Marvell to resign. Mr. Marvell refused, and was ill advised enough to put his case into the hands of an independent M. P. — one of those Westminster mosquitos without kith or kin who sting the occupants of the Treasury Bench with unpleasant questions, and buzz annoyingly. But this was a declaration of war, and when a great department of the State is attacked what wonder that it should defend itself ? The Australia office — that is, Mr. Keane-Midge as before — issued a blue-book, compiled of all the charges brouglit against Mr. Marvell by the angry mercantile folk, by Mr. Drone-Midge and others — forgot, probably by an oversight, to print his refutations along with them, and dismissed him from the service. From that day Mr. Marvell was " a Man with a Grievance," and his prose filled the newspapers. Now, it is astonishing what a number of people there are with a grievance, and what a fuss they will make in the papers. They must be endowed with that robust faith which rebuffs cannot shake, nor precedents enlighten ; for the press is as about as helpless an instrument as well may be for remedying any instance of private hardship in connection with Government. Editors echo the groans of masses, not of individuals. A hundred men who have been wronged of sixpence apiece are more interesting than one man who has been despoiled of ten thousand ", and if the man who has lost his ten thousand thinks differently, and prints columns to prove that the ten thousand ought still to be in his possession, the best he can hope is to be charged with having stated his case with a great deal too much animus, and with having consequently thrown away any claim to public sympathy. Animus is indeed a thing to be avoided ; and the man who has been aggrieved cannot learn too soon to view his sufferings with a dispassionate eye. He must be prepared to own that much of his grievance was due to his own fault, and that, however c^x'tain systems may^have been indirectly to blame as regards him, the conduct of all the individuals from first to last concerned in hia ruin was actuated by the purest motives. Else we should come upon the utterly untenable proposition that two or more men may have conspired together to damage a third, which would never do ; for if once we were to grant* that a personage in place could have borne malice, there is no knowing wliere such a theory might land ns. If the Man with a Grievance has sense enough to gi'asp these trutlis ; if he is the first to declare that his discomfitxire can only be the result of a very pardonable error ; if he has money enough loft to give pleasant dinners and to obtain a seat in Parliament ; if he is cheerful and patient, humble and never importunate ; if he abstains from making anything like a noise, and, above all, from associating his own affair with those of other malcontents having grievances — then, in course of time, it is just possible that ho may right liimself so far that people will agree with him that, by his own showing, ho was a fool, though, perhaps, not a mischievous one. But whatever he does let him keep from print, for print means hubbub ; and tlie editor who abso- lutely declines to insert a single line of his remcuistrancos, renders him unwittingly the greatest ol services. Unhappily for himself, Mr. Marvell had not been competent to grasp these truths. His dismissal had ruined him, and he was so pertinacious in trying to enlist public indignation against this wholly personal wrong, that ho became a great nuisance to editors, who soon belaboured him with leaders in their self-defence, and finally shut their doors on him. Then began that second stage in the Odyssey of men with a grievance — the stage of appeals to Government "graciously to recon- sider my case." Mr. Marvell addressed petitions to the succeeding Ministers who were appointed to the Australian Office, and petitions to the Sovereign ; but these processes amounted as a matter of fact to considerings and reconsiderings of hia 98 these ng to great and ley of recon- who these of hia case by the Permanent Mr. Keane-Midge wuo had dismissed him. When a new Minister received Mr. Marvell's petition he naturally applied to Mr. Keane-Midgo for information about the alleged grievance ; and when the Sovereign received the petition, she, too, as bound by the Constitution, referred it to the Minister — in other words to the Permanent Keane-Midge, who again pronounced judgment on his work ; so that, although in course of time Mr. Marvell obtained half a dozen official confirmations of his dismissal, he had virtually been condemned by one man alone, who had acted successively as prosecutor, judge of first instance, judge on appeal, and had wound up by approving all his various judgments in the name of the Crown. A military or uaval officer who is accused has at least a court-martial to try him, but an official under Government has no claim to a trial ; he must go through the above tribulations exactly as Mr. Marvell did, and when he has been cold-shouldered by the press, and had all his appeals rebuffed, he will pass into the third phane of "grievance." Then it is that he sets up in lodgings, and sniffs the air for all new journals which may be started, and for new politicians who rise up with a cry for "Reform !" He becomes a bore. It was in this last phase of his grievance-urging that Mr. Marvell had become known to Mr. Leech through their both lodging under the same roof ; but where- fore Mr. Leech had taken an interest in a case which had long ceased to interest any other human being, is a matter for his concern, not ours. One can only say Mr. Marvell was not interesting in manners or temper. There are some men who spurn a grievance under their foot, and rise high by it as off a spring-board ; others who do not rise, but whose private virtues increase even as the fertility of soil in- creases when it is ploughed to its depths ; but Mr. Marvell wpnt the ways of the weak and querulous. He had become captious, spleenful, and offensive ; a disagree- able old man, who would have been the better for soap and water, and who shook his case under the noses of all comers like a poor maniac rattling his chains. Never- theless Mr. Leech adhered to him from the day they had first met. But it was not, surely, for the Man with the Grievance that Mr. Leech had bought the bouiiuet, the Yorkshire pie, the strawberries ; not for him that he sat in the parlour with a salad-bowl between his knees, and beating-up eggs, oil, and vinegar to make mayonnaise sauce such as Frenchmen love. Surely it was not for him either that he gave a mighty start when a barouche clattered up to the door shortly after one, rousing all the echoes of Stirrey-street, and bringing numerous peering faces to the windows. The coachman of the barouche wore black gloves and epaulettes, and so did the footman, who gracefully stepped down, and banged at the door till the parlour where Dr. Johnson may have supped was shaken to ita roots, along with the whole house overhead. Then through the parlour-blind Mr. Leech saw Miss Grace Marvell descend — the same we admired in the village school at Penny — and behind her a compact young lady, all in black, save collarsand cuffs, white and spruce as steel. "Now, what can ail this mean V murmured the clerk, as he renewed his beating operations with depressed vigour, making the wooden salad-spoon go flap-Hop in the yellow sauce. He was soon to know what it meant. The young ladies having ascended to Miss Grace's room, footsteps were shortly heard coming down as far as Mr. Mar- vell's study; then a knock, some peevish conversation audible through the ceiling; after this an impatient ring, and iu due course Meggie entered and asked Mr. Leech to relinquish his bowl and go up to Mr. Marvell, who wanted him. Meggie had put on her Swiss costume, eke washed her face, so that with scarlet skirt, velvet bodice, and speckless chemisette — articles of raiment which, by the way, occasioned much grief and scandal to Mrs. Legges — she looked well capable of looking after the for- eign sauce, which Mr. Leech sorrowfully resigned to her, wondering whether anything were going to happen now to mar his carefully-prepared banquet. He ran \jp stairs, and there Mr. Marvell confronted him, clothed in a shabby coat and boots, but looking one shade more respectable than before. " Leech, here's Grace and her friend Miss Pennywoddle want to take me out for a drive," he whined, biting tlie feather off the quill which so seldom left his hands. " Tell her it can't be; we are going to talk over my case after luncheon. I am going to be righted at last, Grace ; you'll have no need to teach then ; we'll 94 1 ; I'' V' have oar carriage, as we had before. But it's no use my telling the girl all that ; she doesn't beUeve it." " Papa has not been out of doors for a month, Mr. Leech ; said Grace Marrell, with a flush on her face as she shook the clerk's hand. It seemed, indeed, as if she Eaid Uttle attention to what her father said. " Please tell him the fresh air will do imgood." " No, I cannot recommend fresh air without a preliminary of sustaining food," answered Mr. Leech, in dismay. " Supposing vou rather ask Miss Pennywoddle to come and join us? She doesn't know me, but luncheon isn't compromising, and I have added a cubit to my stature since this morning." Grace Marvell, who shone like a young Juno with her queenly stature and sculptural form beside the rat-faced clerk, made a hesitating gesture. "It'a very kind of you, Mr. Leech, but the carriage is waiting." " Carriages were made to wait, and if this one is unused to it, let it go, and Miss Pennywoddle shall return in the grandest cab I can find." It was not easy to argue with the clerk, and Grace Marvell, wliose acquaint- anceship with him was but two days old, was not so mured to his eccentricities as to know the weak parts of them. She appeared to consider him as crazed as her father, and perhaps in a way as the latter's abettor and evil counsellor. But, after a little parley, she yielded to his invitation, because Mr. Marvell had returned to his desk and looked* as if nothing short of violence would transport him to the barouche. In the upshot Mary Pennywoddle was asked whether she would come and lunch with Mr. Quilpin Leech, and she cheerfully said she would, on hearing him described as " a gentleman who means well towards papa." ** It's very good-natujed of you to accept such a rough-and-ready invitation," said the clerk, when the presentation had been effected in that dreary room, among the dust and papers. " It's more good-natured of you to make it," answered unceremonious Mary. " Leech means to regale us, because he has been promoted to be Secretary to Lord Mayrose, and Lord Mayrose is his cousin," stammered Mr. Marvell, giving his arm to Mary, and leading the way down stairs with unsteady steps. " If Lord Mayrose rights me I'll regale you too. All my happiness and honour are now in the hands of that young man." CHAPTER XXVII. LADY BBAUJOLAIS' GOOD ADVICE. The reader may have feared that we were going to drag him through all the windings of the dispute, Marvell v. Keane-Midge. Let him allay that very proper dread, and imagine that a fortnight has elapsed between this and the last chapter. No more need be said about that last fortnight than that at the end of it a whisper had got about Whitehall and Downuig street and the lobbies at Westminster, that there was a "shindy" at the Australia Office, though how the said shindy had arisen, and why it was being prolonged, and what would come of it, were points as mysterious as are the reasons Tor a family jar to the neighbors listening to the smashing of crockery outside. On the last day of the fortnight, Mayrose, instead of going to his office at the usual hour in the morning, drove to the official resi- dence of the Prime Msnister. He had that light blue circle round his eyes which speaks of days spent in excitement, and trod firmly like a man who is prepared to do a great thing or a foolish one. He had been summoned by Mr. Paramount, and there were gathered \nth. the Premier, in the shabby hou^e which England allots to her chief ruler, Lord Balbie Drone in much distress ; Lord Rosemary, who was quite cool though astonished ; Lord Beaujolais, the master of the Queen's Beagles, who was credited with a tact for smoothmg away unpleasantnesses ; and little Sir Tito Tumb, who, if has been said, was the cuneiform member of this Administration, fitting into round holes or square holes alike, and always ready with an opinion. 95 " Now, what is it, Mayrose ?" said urbane Mr. Paramount, after greetings had been exchanged : *' it seems you cannot work with Mr. Keane-Midge ?" " Mayrose wa-wants to-o have M-M-Midge dismissed," stammered Lord P ibie, brushing his hat the wrong wuy with his cuff. " I-I t-tell him its" i-i-impossible," and he looked piteous. " Mr. Midge or I must withdraw, for I can be of no use in the office whilst he is there," answered Mayrose, mustering all his firmness* " I find the place full of abuses and absurd routine, and Lord Albert agrees with me that many of these matters call for change, but Mr. Midge resists us both. He is master in the office." " Couldn't you make it up with him ?" suggested handsome Lord Beaujolais, coaxingly. " These disagreements produce such a bad effect out of doors!" was Uttle Sir Tito Tumb's contribution. " Mr. "Midge is a very old and valued public servant," remarked Mr. Paramount, assuagingly. " It is not only Mr Midge's passively stubborn refusal to co-operate with us in useful changes," continued Mayrose, disregarding Sir Tito, " I have discovered that an act of injustice was perpetrated upon a gentleman who was blameless. Lord Albert is of opinion, too, that the case is one of hardship, but Mr. Midge declares he will sooner resign than have the wrong undone." " Ah, yes ; tell us about that case ; isn't there a girl in it ?" exclaimed Lord Beaujolais, stroking his golden beard and looking up archly. " A pretty girl who has come two or three times, and cried before you," added Sir Tito Tumb, like an oracle. *' Cases in which young ladies are mixed up are necessarily interesting," said Mr. Paramount, with demure indulgence ; but I must remind you that ifr. Mar- veil's alleged grievance was decided upon by our • iredecessors. We have no right to re-open the case." " It has been decided upon half a dozen times," replied Mayrose, with v/armth, " but always by Mr. Keane-Midge. I took 'he trouble of enquiring of the last Australian Secretary and of Lord Tweedled„e, v/ho held the post when our party were last in, and they both confessed that t'^ey knew nothing of the matter further than what Mr. Midge had told them. And now Lord Albert, after hearing my explanations, concurs with me that Mr. Marvell must have been innocent." " I-I said I tho-ought he was i-in-uo-o-ceut befo-ore his dismi-missal," stuttered Lord Balbie. " But it appears he has become as cracked as a jug since then," interposed Lord Beaujolais. " We couldn't reinstate a lunatic, you know," observed Sir Tito Tumb, quite wisely. " You could give him his pension," urged Mayrose. " No, believe me, that is quite impossible," said Mr. Paramount, firmly; "it is contrary to all party etiquette and to administrative expediency for one set of Min- isters to I'everse the decisions of their predecessors. If a wrong has been sanctioned — which I am far from admitting — the moral responsibihty must rest on those who committed it; and we must strive to avoid falling into like errors ourselves. But we can do no more." " Think what a precedent it would he if we took to reviewing cases! Downing street would be full with men with grievances !" ejaculated little Sir Tito Tumb, aghast. **Well, then, I must ask you to accept my resignation," said Mayrose, with resolution and deference. "If I were at issue with Lord Albert I would, of course, yield to his superior judgment ; but I see no reason for yielding to Mr. Keane-Midge. Lord Albert and I are responsible to Parliament for the conduct of a department over which we have no virtual authority ; that is the fact of it, and this situation appears to me unprofitable for all concerned. It is chiefly unfair to the public, whose pay I am receiving under false pretences." " I think Mayrose has made out a case of personal hardship to himself," inter- vened sunny Lord Rosemary, who had not spoken as yet, and whose tone now con- .-•^i^Bj;. 96 vinoed Mayrose — and Mr. Paramount, too, probably— that he was not expressing ideas of his own, but reciting u lesson suggested him by his wife. " Is there no way of arranging matters? If we let Mr. Marvell's case drop Mr. Midge might be advised to be more pliable on other matters, or, as he has served long, he might consent to retire with honours — perhaps a baronetcy." '• If the other side were in they would get out of the difficulty by making Midge a Peer," squeaked Sir Tito Tumb. " Yes, when a man is fractious or incapable in other walks of life, they put him into our House, which they look upon as their Hospital for Incurables," echoed Lord Beaujolais, showing his white teeth. " I hope there will be some way of arranging matters," observed Mr. Para- mount, not too Bupplicatingly, but with friendly appeal. " We must ask you to relinquish Mr. Marvell's case, Mayrose, because we have really no power over it ; but as to the rest, authority is never conquered in a day, and you will find Mr. Midge obliged to yield in time on all points that may be reasonable. If you retired now it would look as if he had beaten you." " Oh, of course, he won't retire," exclaimed Beaujolais, breezily, and obeying a telegraphic glance from Mr. Paramount, he linked his arm in Mayrose's and drew him amicably towards the door. Mayrose would have liked to stand on his dignity and renew an ultimatum, but Sir Tito Tumb, Lord Balb.e, and Lord Rosemary seemed all intent on hustling him affectionately out of the room, and in a moment he foimd himself at the bottom of the Premier's staircase and going out with Lord Beaujolais to the latter's phaeton. " Come and lunch with my wife — she wants to talk to you about this affair," said the Earl, gathering up his reins. " Women are the best steerers in the world in straits like yours. The mare looks frisky to-day, John — let go I" and the phaeton started. The fact is, Mr. Parainoimt and his colleagues were naturally averse from see- ing Mayros-? resign ; for his so doing would have aroused public discussion of a kind which is weakening to any Ministry, and especially to a new one. Mayrose had entered office with a great flourish of trumpets, and his manner of answering questions in the House of Lords had won him golden opinions from those who augur of a statesman's future by his mode of replying yea or nay ; all, indeed, who had credited Mr. Paramount with sagacity for unearthing Mayrose had been amply confirmed in their good estimates. But now if this promising young Peer retired, questions would be asked ; and when it became known that he had thrown up his place because his attempts to introduce reforms and redress a grievance were thwarted by an irresponsible red-tapeist, people would energetically take his part, and a great deal of awkward popularity would centre round him. This was the more undesirable, as times were growing difficult, and it was important that Mr. Paramount's team should appear to go well together. Mr. Paradyse had, after his great defeat, promptly threatened to resign the leadership of the Opposition just as a cook vows to pull off her apron if she is scolded for having miscooked the goose ; but the Opposition, having meekly agreed not to scold Mr. Paradvse for miscooking their gooce, that earnest man had resumed his post, and his followers were fast reuniting for one of those onslaughts against standing laws and customs which are called policy. And, of course, all the chronic malcontents in the king- dom, who had risen to be a first-class power since the ballot had enabled them to shift from side to side undetected, were joining the Opposition too. There was the Tobacco interest, who, not satisfied with being allowed to sell spurious cigars for genuine unmolested, wanted to be relieved of patents and duty altogether, and the Unwashed Association, who were for a total repeal of the soap tax ; and that Shaker Brotherhood who, starting from the idea that a National Church should open its doors to worship of all denominations, had at length succeeded in convincing Mr. Paradyse that the Shakers should be suffered to hold their dances in some part of the parish churches, if only in the vestry ; and, lastly, there were the Scotch, the Welsh, and the people of the Isle of Wight, who clamoured for Home Rule. This latter item of policy was indeed getting to be so pressing that it was merely a question aa to whether Mr Paramount should introduce a Home Rule Bill on the ground that it was a Conservative measure tending to bring us back to the prac- 97 tice of the Heptarchy, or whether Mr. Paradyse should get the start of him with the argument that Home Rule would draw us nearer to the United States in the regular development of our constitutional progress. CHAPTER XXVIII. All these reasons, which militated against Mayrose's desertion, were not enumerated by Lord Beaujolais, for his lordship was more versed in the manage- ment of horses and dogs than of men, and his wife had apparently instructed him to leave the arguing to her. There are husbands who would be little without their wives, and though Lord Beaujolais plumed himself on treating all women as toys, he would have brought himself intf» strange fixes had not his wife skilfully diverted bim from the illogical schemes into which he was being constantly hurried by his exuberant vitality. This she did by convincing iiim that her amendments to his ideas were all happy thoughts of his own ; else Lord Beaujolais would have become obstreperous and resisted. At present, conceiving that he had been ill-used in gei- ting the Royal Beagles to keep instead of the Buckhounds, he had set his mind on being compensated with the next Garter and a Marquisate, but liis wife was busy persuading him that as Marquisate and Garter must come to him in due course, he had much better exert his influence to obtain Secretaryships of Legation and Royal A. D. Cships for her brothers, who were numerous. The pi'os and emu of this many-sided question were the topics which Lord Beaujolais chose for examining as be whirled Mayrose towards Belgravia, in a style of driving most consummate. His phseton was a miracle of lightness, and with its blue body picked out in white, with wheel-naves, pole-hook, and hiad-box rails of silver, looked one of those perfect, flashing things that must be seen to be understood. Then how do justice to Lord Beaujolais' method of pulling up his eight-hundred-guinea team, so that they advanced not one inch beyond their proper post at his door, whilst the two grooms, in their claret liveries with scarlet collars, scrambled down to be at the horses' beads at the moment they stopped ? Let us be grateAil that every man on earth has his uses. We canot all of us solve the squaring of the circle, nor even a simple equation ; but to reign up a pheaton correctly is as intricate a problem as many others. " See, my dear, I have brought you our young Tartar," exclaimed Lord Beau- jolais, usheriiig Mayrose into his wife's pink and white boudoir. " He actually threatened to throw Australia at their heads I" " Oh, Lord Mayrose must not do anything so high-spirited," said blonde Lady Beaujolais, smiling, and holding out a little hand gemmed as an Italian Madonna's. " Sit down here by me. Lord Mayrose. Do you know you have set all the world talking of your ungovernable character ?" " I am the most governable man aUve, Lady Beaujolais." " But he mustn't be ridden on the curb," laughed the Earl, taking up a little mite of three years old, who sat beside her mother on an ottoman, playing with one of those satisfactory doll-houses which cost about as much to maintain as the real households of those who manufactxire thei:i. Mayrose instantly went to the mother's heart by lifting this little thing in his turn when her father had released her. He kissed her and set her on his knee. "I met Lucy at the Zoological last Sunday, and I am afraid we spoiled the ugliest monkey in the collection by too many buns." "Lucy is in great trouble to-day," said Lady Beaujolais, beaming with her limpid eyes at them both. " Her brother took her doll's best silk dress to cut out neck-ties for the crew of his toy-ship, and he is in disgrace for it. But it's dinner time, Lucy ; and here's nurse come for you. Say good-bye, there's a dear child." " I think Lucy could govern me pretty easily," remarked Mayrose when the httle mite had toddled off, kissing her dimpled fist to him from the doorway. " Anybody could govern you, and I am sure that Mr. Midge is a homd old man," assented Lady Beaujolais, with conviction. "But see how necessary it is to be on good terms with him. Hasn't he actually been saying that you took up 1 M 98 Mr. M«rvell's case because there was a Miu Blarvell, very handsome, who was under yeur intimate protection !" " And you would wish me to keep on good terms with such a man as that !" exclaimed Mayrose, with the blood mounting to his face. " Why, it's a most im- pudent falsehood t I saw Miss Marvell once during half an hour in my Secretary's presence.'' " Oh ! I didn't believe it, you may be sure ; but the Midges are very power- ful ; they are the cousins to the Rodents and the Keane Foresters, and allied in many ways to the Drones. Then, you must own that when people have an enemy they always do speak hardly of him. If I had an enemy I should say all sorts of cruel things, because I should think them true." '' You would make certain that they were true, 1 know." '* Well, I hope so : but I wouldn't answer fur myself," laughed the Countess, who was engaged on a piece of tapestry that was to serve for nothing and nobody in particular. "The Midges and the Rodents, and all their friends, were terribly angry with you, and it began all of a sudden. A fortnight ago they sang your praises everywhere ; then it was as if you had done something fearfully wicked. As my husband says, they are like people dancing in a ring, and when you push one you disturb them all." " I don't think I should mind disturbing them, Lady Beaujolais." " He would disturb them and brave them, by Jove !" exclaimed the Earl, who had got a newspaper and was reading the advertisements of lost doge, his favourite intellectual pastime. " Tell him, Alice, he wants to go to war with a lot of wasps." " They certainly ore like wasps sometimes, and it could do you no good to brave them," continued Lady Beaujolais, shaking her pretty head. " All you would gain would be a day's popularity with cheap newspapers and noisy disagreeable people ; and this is of no use to a Peer. If you were in the House of Commons popularity might, of course, be an object." " I never looked at the profits of the question, believe me." "Oh, but you should look to the profits of everything, because the world is made so," protested Lady Beaujolais, who, like all pretty women with blonde hair and blue eyes, had no distaste for philosophical aphorisms. " You see a Peer and a Commoner are quite di£ferent, and if you resigned it would be said you were wilful, and hail betrayed your party, and you would never be employed again — never. Shall I toll you now how to triumph over all your enemies and make quite sure of becoming a great man ?" " Plnaso do. Such recipes are worth having." " Well, you must keep your place to begin with, and then marry — marry some one with a great deal of money. Oh, I know what you are going to say," broke off Lady Beaujolais, holding up her needle gaily to check him, and speaking faster. " But let me explain. A Peer can do nothing without being very rich; and if you became a great landowner and had large influence, you might defy all the Midges and their friends. There are many of us who think that they and the Rodents and the Keane-Foresters are always having more than their share of the good things; and I am sure I cannot understand wly Mr. Paramount gave them all the best posts at Court which other people expected. Lady Coralmere thinks as I do, and sho will inherit all her husband's lands at his death ; Lady Rosemary, I know, dislikes all the Midges, so that we might make quite a strong cabal round you, and by-aud bye — after Mr. Paramount — you might get the party-leadership, and become Prime Minister." " That is looking vei-y far ahead," laughed Mayrose, reddening a httle. " One can never look too far," maintained the winsome Countess, seriously. " Prime Ministers must be either adventurous Commoners or rich Peers of talent. Now, you have the talent to become anything you please, and all you require is the riches. I am sure," added she, with a sly glance at him, as she snapped a scarlet wool, " my recipe for obtaining them is not so very bitter ; some men might think it sweet.'' '* He will tell you that a sweet recipe does not make a sweet pudding, though, WM 99 and he would likf> to see the pudding first," said Lord Beaujolais. " But you have only to cast about vou, Mavrose; there are plentv to be bad for the askiug." As if to furni^ a speaking cummentary to the Earl's words, a footman 'h three- volleyed knock resounded at the house door, and shortly afterwards Lady Coral- mere was introduced, bringing in all the smiles and bloom of spring with her. Dark-haired, and of a complexion that was best set off by that colour which the French style le fard des hrune«, she wore a dress and bonnet in which the hpo of the primrose dominated, violet being the colour that was blended with the primrose, so that the whole formed the voiy ideal of fresh attire for a May morning. Lady Coralmere was one of those few English ladies who can be trusted to dress accord- ing to their own taste, and not after that of their milliners ; even Mr. Oirth, of Paris, admitted that she required no tutoring. " My dear Alice, I have called io ask you for some luncheon," she said, embracing Lady Beaujolais ; then turning to Mayrose, witli that grace to which the English practice of hand-shaking can lend such a cordial chnrm, though it is an ugly practice at ordinary times — " it is weeks since we have met. Lord Majrrose." " I was told you had gone to Nice, and am well pleased to see you home." " Thanks. I only returned the other day. I ^ent to bring back Lord Coral- mere, who had been wintering at Monte Carlo." '• I hope Coralmere is better," said Lord Beaujolais. " I am sorry to say he is not well at all. English climate does uot suit him, and I much wished him to stay in France ; but he dislikes being treated as an invalid, and insists upon having his own way." Lady Coralmere sighed, whilst her friend and the two gentlemen assumed that air of commiseration which befits in speaking of an old gentleman whose days are supposed to be nunubered. It will be remembered that Lord Coralmere was that hard- lived Peer, who had long been despaired of byjthe Faculty, but who persisted in surviv- ing season after season, despite his being deaf, paralytic, and loaded with other infir- mities enough to have kept the whole House of Lorclsin bed if distributed piecemeal among them. His wife was known to behave most kindly to him, but he would have none of her ministrations ; and the sigh she heaved, as if to proguosticate her approaching widowhood, was naturally very sincere, though, to be sure, it consorted ill with her primrose adjn.itments and general air of radiancy. After the sigh there was a moment's silence, which Lady Beaujolais broke by leading off hor friend to remove her bonnet, and then the two gentlemen remained alone. " Coralmere will not live three months more ; the doctors have declared it for certain," remarked Lord Beaujolais, with his back to the fireplace. His widow will be a great catch. Dolly Drone wonld like to marry her." " I suppose there will be nothing to baulk Dolly Drone." " Well, Lady Coralmere will be able to afford marrying for love, and it's cer- tainly not Dolly she would preler. The Coralmere property isn't entailed, and the Earl seems to have bequeathed her every stick and stoue — forty thousand a year, they say." CHAPTER XXIX. SOME MUTUAL STCDYINO. Ithougb, Now, this was a broad hint. Though no coxcomb, Mayrose was not so simple as to require that every i should be plainly dotted for him, and he could read, like many others, the language that is conreyed in the glance and manner of women. There was no doubt that Lady Coralmere looked upon him with favour, and that he could step at once into the proud position of waiting for the Earl of Coralmere's shoes, if he chose. It was evident, too, that both Lord and Lady Beaujolais thought that he would do well to avail himself of this first-class opportunity with- out delay, for where would he find a wife so well fitted to adorn his house, so capa- ble of furthering his ambition, so rich, graceful, lovable, and appreciative ? It is better, in many cases, for an ambitious rising man to marry a young widow than a girl. Lady Coralmere would not have to conquer a position in society, to spend 100 ■I I yean gathering a cuterie, and making of her drawing-room a place of repair for potent people. She was already at the head of a coterie, her drawing-room waa renowned, and her husband's cook famous, and if Mayrose married her he would inherit not only Lord Coralniere's fortune, territorial power, and cook, but the social influence which his wife had amassed. It would be no mean thing either to have for his helpmate a loving woman whose vivacious character was of the son that knows no obstacles. Unusual as the fact is among ladies. Lady Beaujolais and Lady Coralmere really loved each other ; and if one adds to this the innate passion which ladies have for making matches, even between perscms whom Heaven never intended should bo joined together, one may Bympathi/.u with Lady Beaujolais' ardour for uniting a pair who were suited to each other in every way. The conversation at luncheon seemed to have no other object than to draw out Lady Coralmere's (|uali- ties, wit, expectations, and friendly feelings towards Mayrose ; yet this was done without eflbrt, and Lady Coralmere never appeared to play a part that was other- wise than reservetl and womanly. Only, when the subject of Mayrose's ofticiul dif- ficulties came up, it would have soothed any man to hear the brilliant Countess compassionate the petty miseries that beset all noble-minded men in their attempts to do good; and she adverted to Mr. Keane-Midge and his clupie au to a base troop who should be crushed under heel at the first favourable occasion — saying which, she made a little gesture with her hand as if it would give her no displeasure to crush them personally. Then by-and-byo there came a covert allusion — referring to Zellie Carol, and only meant to be understood of Mayrose— to women who have not the sense to discern the future of a man of geniuc, and prefer for the sake of temporary lustre to link their destinies to rich nonentities ; and all this was most balmy to hear. The luncheon was in fact convivial, and at the end of it, Lord Beaujolais, having withdrawn a moment to fetch the model of an invention he was going to patent — an invention for bringing ru'iaway traps to a standstill by un- hooking the traces, pole, or shafts, by means of a spring to be placed near the driver's side — Lady Beaujolais nsked to be excused a minute, too, whilst she ran up to the nursery to see how her children had dined. Then Mayrose and Lady Coralmere w«re left together ; but there was no embarrassing silence, for the Countess, making one of those charming movements by which ladies pretend to adjust a coil of hair, and so display a tiny hand, pink ear, and the beauty of their hair all at tho same time, .said gently — *' I wiis very sorry to hear of the annoyances that had been heaped upon you. Lord Mayrose ; but do not resign, for a man should combat wicked people to the end." ''My annoyances seem real godsends to me, now that they have won me so many expressions of goodwill," answered MayroHe, gallantly. "One cannot help feeling interest in anyone who wants to do good," answered the Countess, toying with a fringe of her violet and primrose dress ; "but if I can ever help you with advice, I hope you will call on me, for I know a great many of the Midges and Rodents, and might assist you in thwarting them. ' I shall be much at home, now that my poor husband is, I fear, very near his end. " Here there was another sigh, and Mayrose promised to call. Then Lady Beaujolais reappeared ; and in half an hour more May rone took his leave of the ladies, and was driven back by Lord Beaujolais to Westminster. But though he diplomatically parted with Lady Coralmere on such terms as to retain her friendship by keeping her hopes alive, it may be said at once that he had no purpose of marry- ing her ; and this may seem the more surprising as he had arrived at Lady Beau- jolais' conclusion that the sooner he got married the better. Yes ; his short experi- ence of official life had convinced him that he should rise to no power or dignity without money, and that the mere fact of his having undertaken a war with a cohort of families like the Midges would be a stumbling block to him all his life through, if he could not triumph by the prestige of property and influence. Pro- perty to a peer, dash and genius to a commoner — these, as Lady Beaujolais had said, seemed to be essentials of successs, and Mayrose wished to succeed ; nor had the Countess' hint that he might attain to the most commanding station by the aid 3xpen- iignity with a is life Pro- had or had ;he aid 101 of wealth boen thrown away upon him . When is a young man worth his salt over devoid of ambition ? And whero is the o.mbitious man who, liaving «)nco ^ot into the arcana of oiflcialiam, and seen for himself how Uttlo genius it requires to olimb high there, has not said to himself that he, too, might reach a pinnacle ( Then, as regarus lovo in marriage, Mayrose's first lore romance was at an end, for Zellio had discarded him in favour of a man of money ; and so long as he found an attract)^ ^ woman of congenial temper, that was all he now cared for or could expect. He would devote himself to his wife, whoever she were ; but. being no longer able to ofler a first and whole-hearted l<>vu, he co)ut I ain't dead yet, and I fancy I can collect a goodish sum more before I go ijt you and Mary's children, my lord." " Don't call me ' my lord ' though." " No that will be ridiculous now — so it will. Whiit might jour Christi&n name be?" " My name is Frederick, but it's a longish name. Call me Mayrose." '• Aye ; I like Mayrose better than Frederick," wheezed the Knight. " I had a clerk called Frederick, who went to the House of Correction. But names don't signify much so long as parties are firieudly. And now that me and you are going to be father and son together, you'll see how you'll get on, and depend upon it it's a good bargain you've made this day, my lord — that is Frederick ; for, not counting the money, my Mary's a good gal, though I say it who shouldn't." " I am persuaded that your daughter has all the qualities that can brighten a home," said Mayrose with feeling: " and I pledge you my sincere endeavours to make her happy — should she accept me." " There aint much fear of any gal saying no to a smart young man Uke you." bluntly ejaculated Sir Ham, whose agitation rather grew than decreased, so that he rumpled his hair, as if heated thoughts were cropping up there by the thousand. " No, there ain't, for it's fair play to own that you'll give as much as you'll take, your family 'aving been Peers two hundred years ago — I know it from reading it in the Peerage. Now, if my poor Mike had lived, I'd a taken care that he should 'ave been a Peer, for me and my wife, Jane, we kept a shop in Pudding Alley, which I don't care to conceal now we've riz so much since; and the lower you've been the higher you like to go — that's the truth, Mayrose. Well, it'll be a blessing to Jane and me to think that in spite of all, Mary's children will 'ave titles as good as any to be 'ad " (he was within an ace of saying " bought ") ; " bigger titles than you 'ave Qow, perhaps," proceeded the Knight, with sudden enthusiasm. " For when you get back all the Mayrose lands you ought to become a Earl or a Markiss and a Chief Secretary and wear the Garter. You'll see what you'll become with me working to my dying day to pick up more money for you — as I used to do for poor Mike when I began 1" The matter of all this was more pleasant than the manner of saying it, for the Knight's purse-pride oozed from all his pores, and was oppressive to Mayrose. But the young Peer detested falsehood, and could not bring himself to pretend hypocritically that monetary considerations were nothing to him in this match. All he could do was to hiat that settlements had better be left to the lawyers ; this, though, did not suit Sir Ham. The Prime Warden of the Sausage-makers had been at too much pains in amassing his wealth to let financial rhapsodies be curtly dismissed. His gold, laboriously accumulated, was to him as the works of art on which a partner builds his renown — and, after all, does not the painter dis- play his pictures ? and does not the poet read aloud the lyrics he has composed ? and will not the advocate boast of his famous pleas, and the Doctor of his best cures ] Sir Ham did no more than painter or poet when, during an hour, he heaped up figures before his future son-in-law as if they had been great mounds of specie, which he had personally dug out of the earth's bowels. And his gooseberry eyes sparkled as he did this, his wheezing voice became clear and strong, and when he dilated on the solidity of his wealth he was like an architect exhibiting a palace he has erected, and stamping about the floors with the cry, " See how firm and 8 114 imperishablo ? Boo how maMive and beautiful !" For tho fint time Maymso felt he wing out a ' again this . 'em how and bring n my wife J, you can hin' time." d hin tirst hush, and descended he square, t by Bino [noving all above ex- sent moud ►w that Sir lyrose felt *ve backed Bcipitancy. ning brow i had been ess, and it if love, Sir that there h century inter, who le features ^e had left e. It wag bchool-girl ng he had The mesd- are in the ainly have necessary the taunt, that our breaking ir helmets or coronets as tills for tho Rains of city traders. However, it was too lato to turn back now ; if he had ch(«en tho wrong road to fortune the penalty would bo hia own, and ho should probably bo obliged to bnar it soon enough. The returning wheels of Sir Ham's cnrriage drew up at thu door, whilst Mayrose was puzzling all this out in a shame-faced spirit, and in another minute the Knight and his family wore ushered into the room . It was evident tliat Sir Ham had lot fall no hint of what had taken place or was preparing, for excellent Lady Pennywoddle sat down by Mayrose as if sue were (?oing to have a comfortable talk with him about hin burns, and to recommend the healing properties of raw mashed potato. She was amazed when, after a few rain- utes. Sir Ham fussily begged permission to visit the houee, and drew her out .vith Grace MarvoU, leaving Mary behind. Let it be mentioned that Sir Ham's inspec- tion of the house was not a mere formality. Under Mr. Qnilpin Leech's wondering guidance every room was examined, as those at Springfield had been a few months before, and the Knight went through an identical course of furniture-prodding, mat- tress-pressing, and wainscot-tapping — but this time triumphantly, like a man who overhauls a purchase. Meanwhile Mary sat at a little distance from Mayrose and blushed. She looked very pretty. What had passed between Mayrose and herself at the Bazaar accounted for her confusion ; but her present anxiety and sympathy for his sufferings tinged her pure features with a gentle sisterly air of solicitude. Then her mourning dress served to give a yel ^t^r, more maidenly expression of quiet to her demeanour, so that Mayrose gru ihy felt his hopelessness revive as ho gazed on her. He forgot the Knight's inflated speeches of scrip and share ; he ahut his eyes to the sardonic sneer of Lely's scapegrace ; and saw only that Mary was a lov- able girl — one whom he might well accept as a helpmate, oven if she came to him dowerless. He turned and tried to assume a comfortable posture by resting on his elbow, but in so doing disturbed his pillows, and this gave Mary the opportunity of ministering to him as a nurse and helping to prop him. When her hands had smoothed his pillow he did not suffer them to go but retained them in his, and look- ing up into her face, said : — " Mary, your father has left us alone that I might ask you a question. After what occurred yesterday may I hope that I am not wholly indifferent to you? — can you love me enough to be my wife ?" She hung her head and her bosom heaved in quick throbs. She had known that this question would come, but he had only begged for her love without men- tioning his. If he would but say that he loved her! He on his side, watching her emotion, felt a manly repugnance to deceive the poor girl. If she accepted him it should be of her own free choice, and he would not woo her without telling her as much of the truth as he could without bnitality. So he resumed, still holding her hands : — " I will confess to you, Mary, what I have told to no one before, that I was in love with Lady Azalea Carol, and suffered more than I can express when I found my affection was not requited. But that is past now, and if you can love me no shadow of another attachment shall stand between us. My whole heart will be yours." "She would have made you a better wife than I, " faltered Mary, with her eyes downcast. " No. She was not purer, better, or more lovely than yourself, but we had known each other longer, and that is what pleased my infatuation." " It could not have been infatuation. How do you know that she did not love you." " She accepted some one else ; and I feel now that she only liked me as a sister. Yes, Mary, that is quite past now." "And yet if you were ever to learn that you had been mistaken — if you ever learned that she did and does love you ?" He was silent for a moment under the unexpected question, but then replied earnestly — "Even then, Mary, her imago would be banished from my very thoughts after 116 I had placed yours there. Will you beheve my promige of this ? The past I ean- not undo, but the future is in your hands, and you can make it a very blissful one." She was only too wishful to beheve him. Whatever resolutions she had sought to make against letting her heart be surprised, all melted at the candid avowal of his first love, which he would put away for her sake. He could not, as he justly said, undo the past ; but if the future were her own, and if with loving him wifh all patience, tenderness, and devotion she could recure his happiness, she felt that she Bhould indeed be happy too. So she raised her eyes with a tearful smile, and that was her answer of consent. "Eisd me," he said; and she stooped and kissed his forehead. Such was Mayrose's short wooing— such the manner in which he enthralled Mary and obtained her hand and fortune. But much as his conscience smote him for his original aims in seeking this marriage, he meant to be faithful to his troth. Whilst the innocent lips of his affianced bride were touching his brow he inwardly vowed tlia by God's help he would in those beautiful words of our English service, honour and cherish her for bettor or worse, in sickness and health, till death parted them. • CHAPTER XXXIIl. IN WHICH THE BOUDOIR CABAL IS FORMED. % Sir Ham PennyMvoddle was not the man to keep the engagement secret. He hastened away to spread the news of it all hot in the city, and by-and-bye returned to bring it within the ken of Westminster. He received congratulations from brother magnates of the Sausage Makers' Company, from brother Oyster-shell Pro- moters, from brother M. P.'s, and even went the length of communicating the do- mestic tidings to the great Mr. Paramount, who wondered, but extemporised a gracious compliment. Mr. Dexter was also informed of the news, and ought, one would think, to have evinced disappointment, but, strangely enough, ho was among the sincercst in his felicitations. Latterly he had grown rather reserved in his attentions towards Mary — the change having somehow dated from the time of Grace Marvell's adoption in Sir Ham's house — and his sentiments may be gathered from bome remarks which he made to the Rev. Nonus Nines, when that ecclesiastic bantered him cheerfully on his " sell ;" "I am not sold, but possibly Mayroae will be. He thinks he has made a fine bargain, and I hope he has, but if some one starts up and whips two-thirds of Sir Ham's fortune out of his reach, don't you be surprised, but remember I prophesied it." Mayrose meantime did not attempt secrecy either. Having taken the irrevo- cable step he made it a point of honour with himself not to appear ashamed of his new family, but to affirm his betrothal courageously. He seemed to salve his con- science by doing this. All the visitors who followed Sir Ham in the afternoon were apprised that the Under-Secretary for Australia was going to be married, and by these means the intelligence had circulated before midnight through all the highways and byways of society. Ijord Hornette, who saw Mayrose at four, bore the news to Rosemary House at five. It was his usual hour for going to pay his court to Zellie, and it chanced that to-day Lady Beaujolais, Lady Coralmere, and numerous other ladies, were assembled at a " drum,'' each with a teacup in her hand. The talk had been all about Mayrose's exploit at the bazaar, and his presence of mind and daring had been so enthusiastically extolled that Zellie, who stood at the tea-urn, had more than once changed colour, and had at last begged Violet to take her place, pretext- ing that the sun was in her eyes. Lord Hornette's communication produced as much dismay as if that urn, which was enormous, had exploded. " Yes ; Mayrose is going to be married," repeated Lord Hornette. sitting down bes'de Zellie, and rather enjoying the sensation he had caused. ''It s ii capi- tal match ; he couldn't have done better." "Well, I am surprised !" exclaimed Lady Beaujolais, who had been too much pat-out at first to speak. "The man who of all others I should have thought above le past I ean- y blissful one." she had sought idid avowal of t, as he justly ig him with aU le felt that she wer of consent. he enthralled ice smote him Ful to his troth. w he inwardly Inglish service, Jl death parted nt secret. He id-bye returned itulations from yster-shell Pro- icating the do- e&temporized a ind ought, one lough, ho was ler reserved in orn the time of kay be gathered bhat ecclesiastic Bsibly Mayrose )ut if some one h, don't you be ten the irrevo- ^hamed of his salve his con- the afternoon le married, and hrough all the tsemary House ind it chanced er ladies, were had been all nd daring had urn, had more place, pretext- m produced as )rnette. sitting •'It'sivcapi- )een too much thought above 117 a mercenary marriage !" And she glanced sympathetically at Lady Coralmere, vho had turned pale, but was too much of a grande dame not to recover almost in- stantaneously. " Is Miss Pennywoddle so very rich ?" asked Lady Coralmere, coldly. "Oh, yes ! one of the richest girls in the city, I believe, my dear," replied Lady Albert Drone, yclept Belladonna, the wife of Mayrose's chief ; and with her usual propensity to make her hearers open their eyes, she added: "Those city marriages were alwajs great thir-iTi, but they sometimes turn out badly. There was Mr. Fitzwittol, who married Miss Bullion, of Lon^bard street, and became Lord Pottifer, bux two years after the wedding he discovered that one of his grooms, who always rode out with Lady Pottifer, had been her lover before mar- riage. He tried to horsewhip the man, but was not strong enough, and got flung on to a heap outside the stable. It's a painful story, and I '' " Never allude to it," laughed Lord Hornette, who knew his respected aunt's foibles. " Oh, but I do not think it is at all a matter to laugh at!" remonstrated Lady Beaujolais, la real commotion. " When a nobleman makes little of all his dignity to marry a ^^llgar upstart girl, one should grieve over it." " It shows so little principle," ejhoed a rather ripe Lady Diana Keane-Forester, wlio had been keenly chasing fortunes unsuccessfully for a term of years." " And such a want of spirit," chimed in an equally ripe Lady Mixssicfl, Rodent, who had been r.lbbling vTith singular unsuccess round the heart of an ennobled pawnbroker for two seasons past. " Now, I reaUy cannot see all tl.at," said Lord Hornette, in his highest and driest voice. " If I had been In Mayrose's place I should have done exactly the same thing, and considered it an affair of duty. Sir Ham Pennywoddle has got all the Mayrose lands, and by marrying this young lady Mayrose puts himself at the top of the county" again." Lord Hornette was not a backbiting enemy. He had waged war with May- rose, and had prevailed over him, but the victory once decided, he was too great a personage to bear any grudge or to condescend to tattle. On the whole he rather liked Mayrose since he had worsted him ; and though he would have been prepared to take up the cudgels against him again if Mayrose had come athwart his interests, pleasures, or even his momentary comfort, he could afford to stand by him now that they were at peace, and especially now that his back was turned. So, disre- garding the chorus of protests which hailed his " shocking excuses for what was quite inexcusable," he said to Lady Belladonna: — " I hope you will leave a card on the Penny woddles. Aunt; it will be the thing to do, as Mayrose is in your office." " Oh, certainly, Hornette," screamed the honest lady, " If she's ricli we shall have to acknowledge her some day or other, and the sooner it's done with good grace the better. There was the late Lady Downdale now, who had been a baUet- dancer, and whom everybody wanted to send to Coventry. Lady Canonlaugh was particularly eager about it, but I said to her, ' My dear Susan, if you make yoursolf an enemy of that woman depend upon it she will pay you out,' and, surely enough, one night, when Canonlaugh said he was going to a meeting at Exeter Hall, liis wife discovered that he had taken Lady Downdale to dine at the Star and Garter, She found it out because she had gone there herselt with the Italian Prince Casino, and she lud her husband met in one of the passages. It's a painful story, and I should be sorry if anyone repeated it." " I will go by all means and call on Lady Pennywoddle," said Lady Rosemary, quietly, to her intended son-in-law, when Lady Belladonna had done speaking ; "and, my dear Alice" (this to Lady Beaujolais), "I think you quite misjudge Lord Mayrose; if ue has proposed to Miss Pennywoddle it must be because he really likes her." " Oh, he was always a favourite of yours. Lady Rosemary." " And he is so still, my dear child. I helped to bring him up as if he were a son ot my own, and can answer that he is the soul of honour." "Appearances are much against him, then," retorted indignant Lady Beaujo- 118 laiB, who felt a quite unquenchable animosity against Mayrose for having upset the fine schemes she had built up for him. And then his deceit in lunching with her two days before, and saying nothing about Miss Pennywoddle! ''I can have no patience with young men who marry or look as if they many for money," added her pretty ladyship, rather oblivious of the worldly counsels she had herself be- stowed. "Well, I feel almost bound to make a confession," said Lady Rosemary, in that sterling tone of truthfulness which was never so conspicuous as when she was defending somebody against a social leagiie. " When Lord Mayrose returned to England last winter I was the first to hint at his possible marriage with Miss Pen- nywoddle and I am in some way responsible for the marriage. I know the idea, had not occurred to him before I mentioned it— he was*"even surprised, and by no means attracted by it. But you may be sure, my dear Alice, that 1 should not have suggested to one whom 1 loved as my own son a marriage in which I could see the least impropriety." Poor Lady Rosemary ! She had urged this defence impelled by the genuine nobility of her nature ; but if she could have seen the expression that mounted to Zellie's eyes, and the pallor that stole over her face, her heart would have smit- ten her for the generous imprudence she had committed. Lord Hornette saw it all, and, leaning towards Lady Rosemary, said, in a whisper — " I)o you not think, dear Lady Rosemary, that when you call on Lady Pen- nywoddle Zellie should go with you ? It will allay the last breath of former ru- mours." Lady Rosemary returned an evasive answer, and the company soon broke up to go and cackle elsewhere about the outrageous match. Every man of the world who marries behaves outrageously according to one or more ladies interested in his welfare ; but it is not every man who stirs up so many enemies as Mayrose. Lady Beaujolais swore that she could not forgive his " duplicity ;" Lady Coralmere felt that her prospective widowhood had been slighted ; and these two were a host in themselves. Then there was the lady whose chignon Mayrose had knocked off at the bazaar whilst saving her life, and who turned out to be the Honourable Mrs. Bussle, wife of Coney Bussle, M. P., and an active character in society. Mrs, Bussle was naturally bilious at having been exhibited in her baldness to the pub- lic, and treasured up this woe for exemplary revenge ; and then there were the Ladies Midge, Rodent, and Keane-Forester, whom Lady Beaujolais and Lady Cor- almere hated, but with whose official grudges they were now prepared to sympa- thize, because it is sweet to pay off scores against an old friend. An evening or two later it chanced that most of Lady Rosemary's visitors met again at a small "At-home" of Lady Canonlaugh's — the identical Lady Canon- laugh who had gone to Richmond with Piince Casino ; but since that day she and her husband had devoted themselves to good works. Tn her ladyship's boudoir Lady Beaujolais said : — "But why should we ladies not set our faces against mercenary marriages? I think that when a man marries as Lord Mayrose does we ought to make a vow never to call on him or on his wife, never to invite them to our parties, never to consent to belong to any club or charity with which they are connected ." " I 80 entirely agree with you, my dear," replied virtuous Lady Canonlaugh— age thirty-five, hair dark, eyes holy, religion evangelical. " And so do I !" chorused several other ladies, with the spirit of sanctity flaming brightly within them. " You see, if we did that we should defeat the object of these wicked mar- riages," proceeded Lady Beaujolais, bravely. " It is high time we proclaimed that a gentleman who marries a woman for her money does a dishonourable thing, and that the woman who accepts such a man is a spiritless creature." Eveiybody concurred that it was high time, and then and there it was voted that Lord Mayrose and his wife should be made to shiver under that blast of pro- priety which, according to Macaulay, blows over London once every seven years— in other words, that they should be in a manner tabooed and flouted. None of the ladies Drone took part in these resolutions, because the chief of their clan, Lord 119 upset the with her have no ," added erself be- lemary, in 1 she was turned to Vliss Pen- the idea, md by no hould not I could iB genuine mounted have smit- ite saw it iady Pen- ormer ru- broke up the world sted in his )se. Lady ilmere felt a host in bked off at rable Mrs. ety. Mrs. ) the pub- I were the . Lady Cor- to sympa- isitora met iy Canon- iy she and i's boudoir marriages ? ike a vow 8, never to lonlaugh— ity flaming icked mar- aimed that thing, and was voted ast of pro- en years- one of the clan, Lord Homette, forbade them ; but the matter coming somehow to the ears of Mr. Para- mount, he observad with a laugh: — « Dear me, the thing is serious; it's a regular Boudoir Cabal." CHAPTER XXXIV. BETROTHAL GIFTS. All unconscious of the stir which her engagement was occasioning, Mary passed the first days after her betrothal in a dream full of charm. That period, which is in every girl's life the most important, lost none of its sweet hopefulness for her because it had arrived so suddenly. The pure visions of happiness to come, those rosy hallucinations conjured up by the ecstasy of love, came upon her with a sur- prising freshness, undimmed by any of the disenchantments which result from a pussion crossed, or from an engagement too long deferred. It is true the growth of her love had been checked for a while by unkind rumours, but those rumours were Uke the cold winds which do but delay the blossoms, not like the frost which nips them in the bud, and it had needed but the face and voice of her lover to make the budding passion start into full growth as the seed breaks into flower in the first rays of sun-warmth. Happy these who bring to their marriage, as Mary was going to do, the offering of a virgin love, with all its genl^e trustfulness and fair illusions! Happy those who look upon this holiest of ties, not as a formal linking of interests, but as a new and blessed birth to a gladder life ! Ignoring the fiat of the Boudoir Cabal against herself and her afiBanced, Mary abandoned herself to the delight of all the pretty incidents which attend an engage- ment. Every morning there came a magnificent bouquet with a note from her lover, and every afternoon she went with her father and mother to Berkeley Square to see how the patient was progressing. He grew well rapidly, and did not fail, with kind gallantry, to attribute this rapid cure to his happiness ; and she believed him — what girl would not have done so ? When not with him she thought of him ; and it was a curious thing, though natural, how in the prospect of her maniage Mary's whole character underwent a change ; how she tried to attune all her ideas to those of the man whose destiny she was to share, and whom she felt to be so much her superior in rank, education, and worldly knowledge. Hitherto she had not cared for being rich, and we know that if she could have had her own way the life of a shop-girl was that which she would have preferred ; but now, for her lover's sake, she rejoiced in her father's wealth, and saw how in generous hands it might be made to serve noble purposes. Such was the revulsion in her sentiments on this subject that her heart was full of contrition and self-reproach when she thought that she had imputed it as a crime to her future husband that he had appeared to seek after money. Had he not a great position to keep up, and was he not right — nay, in duty bound — to seek wealth for the good which he was in a position to do with it (• and then ought she not to bless the wealth that had raised her to the sphere where she had been enabled to meet this man, whom she so tenderly loved, and without whom it now seemed to her that no happiness in life could exist ? Then, again, as to birth. No royal princess with a thousand years of lineage could have been more disdainful of titles than Mary ; but since she was to bo the wife of a nobleman she rivalled any Republican in her stealthy interest for study- ing the peerage. Sir Ham Pennywoddle possessed peerages of all sizes, and Mary had often looked out the name of Mayrose in the smaller ones ; but now she re- moved the biggest — the one which devoted a page and a half to the Springtielda — to her room, and in every half hour she could snatch would pore with a wistful eye over the long roll of worthies who had graced the name which she was to bear. Never had that gallant and untruthful volume been conned over with such intense con- viction, for Mary piously accpeted all its legends as gospel — believed in the Spryg- feldt who had flourished under Ethelwolf, in the Sprynfeldt who had added an "n" to his name and marched against the Danes, and in all the descendants of the two above, more or less apocryphal until the time of the undoubted Sir Lyon Spring- field, who had been created Baron by Charles I. Not only did Mary pore over 120 these names, but she tried to commit them to memory ; and was learning to be so proud of them tkat on the day Mayrose was .veil enough to go out and pay his first visit to Pennywoddle House he was surprised to hear his future wife recite to him all his family genealogy. The thing came about by an accident. He was intro- duced into the drawing-room where Mary was alone, and in coming forward to greet him she let fall a paper from her pocket. He picked it up, and restoring it to her with a kiss, said playfully : •' A love-letter, Mary V " I didn't want you to see it — but you can now," she smiled, turning pink, and showed him the paper on which she had copied out her new family in chrono- logical order as school-girls do a difficult page of history. "Why, Mary, you will know more about my people than I do ; but you must not believe in the Sprygfeldfc who paid tribute to Ethelwolf." " I believed in them all !" " I wish I could. There was a man who wanted to derive our name from a sprig which we carried in our felt hats like the Plantagenets — unfortunately, as an Irishman would say, felt hats were made of cloth in those times." " But Sir Lyon Springfield, who was wounded at Edgehill, is true ?" "Yes, he's true ; and if he came back he would disown me for a Roundhead," laughed Mayrose, looking at his closely-cropped head and bristly moustache in the glass. This brought a look of solicitude to Mary's face and a tender question about Mayrose 's health. •' Do you really feel q\iite well now?" " Quite well, darling. And see here," he added, gently taking her hand, and drawing a little case from his pocket — "here is my betrothal-ring, and I want you to fix our wedding-day. We need not wait till the end of the session, for nothing very important will be done in Parliament till next year, and I can get leave " — saying which he glided a brilliant turquoise and diamond hoop on to her finger, and raised her tiny hand to his lips. His other arm was wound round her waist ; and looking up to bis face with a tear in each of her eyes, she nestled her head to his shoulder. " What a beautiful ring !" she murmured, but made no answer to the other part of his question. " Let us be married in July," he continued, and go for a three months' tour abroad. I sliouldlike everybody to know that our wedding-day is settled; and that remiuds me that Lady Rosemary is going to call here, probably to-day. I wi'ote to tell her of our engagement, and received this kind letter in reply — read it, dear!" " Isn't she a very proud lady?" whispered Maiy, as she took the letter and ran her eyes rather timidly over its contents. " She is the kindest and best of women, who has been to me like a mother." " I am so afraid she may not like me ; but all your friends have been very good to us. Lady Albert Drone called yesterday, and the Duchess of Bumblebeigh left a card." " Lady Albert is a good-natured person. I scarcely know the Duchess." " And Lady Albert spoke so warmly of you ! It almost made mamma ciy with pleasure. The Duchess did not come upstau's." Mary went on to prattle artlessly about the big people who had honoured her; and a)l her gi-atitude towards the Drones was deserved. The Earl of Horuette, who ruled with a despotic hand over his kinsfolk of all degi-ees, had so taken Mayrose's marriage under his patronage, that he had prevailed even on his mother to go in her yellow chariot and leave cards. As to Lord Balbie, Lady Belladonna, and all the other Drones, they submissively carried out the Earl's views by personally see- ing Lady Pennywoddle, and showing themselves most gracious and complimentary. Lord Hornette found a gi'eater task in persuading Lady Rosemary that it was expe- dient Zellie should accompany her on her visit, but here also he ended by carrying his point with customary adroitness. On the day which the Countess had appointed for her call he contrived to be at Rosemary House, and suggested in Zellie's pres- ence — as if it were a happj'^ thought just occurred to him — that he and Zellie should just go too, " out of civihty to my old school-fellow," and that is why, an hour or so af seeini 121 so after she had received her betrothal-ring, Mary was put through the ordeal of seeing her future husband's first love. Mayrose had not expected to see Zellie, and stood up with the blood rushing all about his body ; whilst Lady Fennywoddle, who was then in the room, bustlel forward, purple with satisfaction and humility, to receive her distinguished visitors. The Countess shook hands with her, and then ttiming to Mary, drew her tenderly into her arms and kissed her. "My dear child, I have looked upon Mayrose as a son of ray own, and shall consider you as my daughter." How Mayrose got through the next few muiutes, during which he heard Zel- he congratulate him, he could not have said, but everybody was seated, and Lady Rosemary was holding Mary's hand in hers, when Lord Homette apostrophised him cheerily. " You remembef my asking you to be my best man, Mayrose ; but if you are going to be married before me I must be yours ? And, Lady P^nnywoddle, I should like one of my sisters to be Miss Penny woddle's bridesmaid." " It will be a great honour to us all, my lord," whimpered poor Lady Penny- woddle, who was near the melting mood after all this condescension. " You must write and tell me when the wedding is to be," said the Countess to Mary, whom she had succeeded after her wont in endearing to her in one mo- ment ; and some of the desultory remarks usual to these bridal visits followed, un- til Lady Pennywoddle begged Mary to show Zellie some of the presents she had already received from divers of Sir Ham's friends in the city. These presents, rich in kind and value, were in another room, and both the girls retired together. Then it was that Mary's heart beat so fast as almost to chock her breath. With the intuition natural to all women, she had seen that things were as she had feared, and that Zellie loved Mayrose as much as she had been loved by him. Yes, there was no mistaking the look of her downcast eyes when he and she had shaken hands, nor the constrained silence they had maintained when sitting near each other. And what a pang it cost her to make this discovery ! Mayrose was her own now — he had vowed to love her whatever should hap, and it was only on this solemn vow that she accepted him ; but wlio was she to compare with this lovely girl who had all the graces and charms of high birth and patrician training that were wanting in herself? She felt a moment as if all the tradesman blood in her veins were assert- ing itself in her face and voice to make her look vulgar and ludicrous, and she felt too that she hated Zellie for coming to humiliate her in her lover's eyes. But her hatred could not survive the appealing touch that was laid on her arm when she and Zellie were alone. " Mamma said you should be her daughter," said Zellie, gazing into her eyes. " Will you let me call you Mary, and be your sister ? Lord Mayrose is almost my brother." "And he loves you so deeply," sobbed rather than answered Mary, carried away into this avowal by the hope that she might leam the worst at once. " I love him too — as a sister," answered Zellie, tranquilly. She would not have avowed this a fortnight before ; but her mother's confessions as to the part she had taken in this marriage, had cleared her generous mind of all resentment against Mayrose. "I have always loved hiru as a sister," she repeated softly. " But now I want you to accept this from me." She had drawn a necklace and medallion from her pocket, and clasped tliem round Mary's throat. " It cont.iins a lock of hair," she said ; " it was Lord Maji'ose's hair when he was a child." They remained almost half an hour together, and Mary came back with red eyes. AVhilst Lady Rosemary's visit lasted she sat with her glance averted from her lover and with her face blanched. But as soon as the Countess was gone she took the pretext of leading Mayrose to see her presents, and once the door had closed behind them, threw herself with a terrible bitterness of sorrow into his arms. •'I have not the heart to conceal it from you. If I did it would bring me mis- fortune. She loves you as much as you could ever love her." *' Who ?" asked Mayrose, veiy pale. " Lady Azelea Carol. And oh, I know, I know, I am not so lovely nor so good 122 as she is; and if you still love her don't consider me, but go to her before it is too latet" Mayrose had time to take in all the aspects of this revelation. Whether Z6llie loved him or not, it was too late to win her now, for she would not withdraw her troth from Lord Homette. Then Mary might be mistaken, and speaking undei the mere delusion of a first jealousy. At any rate he had promised to be true to Ifary whatever befell, and he was resolved to keep his word. Not only that, but the happiness of his life to come, as well as every motive of manliness, chivalry, and common kindness required that he should pretend to be sincerely in love with Mb intended wife ; so he stroked her hair soothingly as she lay sobbing un his breast ; and whispered — " I told you, Mary, I had broken for ever with the past. I love, and will love, nobody on earth but you." " But if you should ever regret this ?" " I never will, if you love me. Do you love me, darling ?" "Oh, so much — so much I But I would rather die than see you repine. I want only to see you happy." "Then let this be a closed book between us," he said, sealing her trembling lips with a kiss ; " and as soon as you please, let us become man and wife." BOO K II. CHAPTER I. INTERLUDE. Mayrose and Mary were married, with what pomp anybody can see by refer- ring to the newspapers of the time. Mr. Paramount and half the Cabinet stood near the altar at St. George's. The owners of the biggest money-bags in the city mixed in the vestry with the noblest venders of corn-sheaves, and signed the regis- ter ; the Worshipful Company of Sausage-mabera presented the bride with a pearl necklace of three rows, and the directors of the Oyster-shell Company clubbed with the Aldermen and Common Councillors to give her a silver-gilt dessert service such as had never.been seen . Of other presents there was enough to stock an enterprising jewellery shop ; and the gifts of the Drone family, as also their demonstrative kind- ness to the young couple, were particularly admired. Lady Mella Drone, one of Lord Hornette's sister's, was among the guests, so was one of Lord Albert Drone's daughters ; and Lord Hornette himself both acted as best man and returned thanks for the unmarried ladies in an amusing speech at the breakfast. During this breakfast it was whispered among the guests that the bride's dower was 500,- 000 pounds in hard cash. All this the Boudoir Cabal bore as they could, but there can be no doubt that the attitude of the great House of Bumblebeigh checkmated them. The Drone* have always wielded a legitimate influence in London Society, and no drawing-room plot is complete without their co-operatiou, or can hope to succeed in face of their resistance. It is the Drones who decide, as it were excathedra, what things are bad form and what not ; whether a man shall be expelled from his club, whether a novel is improper, whether such and such a lady is a "creature;" and, to do them justice, they geiiprally decide that things are bad form, that a man should be expelled from his club, that the novels in dispute are improper, and that such and such a lady is unquestionably a creature. But if they resolve otherwise, what league in Mayfair or Belgravia is potent enough to gainsay them ? When the Midges, the Rodents, and the Keane-Foresters ; when indignant Lady Beaujolais and chagrined Lady Coralmere, and the lady who had lost her chignon at the bazaar, and Lady Canonlaugh, and all the others, saw the Drones circling round Mayrose in a compact swarm, they perceived that their own band, however virtu- ously disposed to do harm, could effect little, at least for the present. Accordingly they kept the peace, not like people who throw their daggers away, but like hope- ful persons who sheathe them and bide their time. They bided their time so well that we must pass over the few weeks preceding Mayrose's marriage, and the seven or eight months that followed it, as wholly un- eventful. The wedding was solemnized in early A.ugust, and Mayrose took his bride for a three months' tour to Paris, Switzerland and the Rhine. When they returned they spent half the winter at Springfield and the other half at Penny. Mayrose ran up to town almost every clay by train to attend to his Government duties ; but as Parliament was ni*t sitting, and .as all the drawing-rooms in town were swathed in brown-hoUand, uu difficulties political or social beset him. As for Mr. Keane-Midge, that gentleman having also taken a three months' holiday after Mayrose's return (the first such holiday since twenty years, so it was reported), the two had no opportunity for clashing. But during this dead season the world continued to wag as usual, and events important to others occurred in the usual course. Of these some concern us, and firstly this : tliat Zellie did not marry Lord Hornette. Soon after Mayrose's wed- ding she fell ill — of the fatigues of the season, said the doctors — and getting worse instead of better as the autumn wore on, was ordered to winter at Nice, so that her marriage was postponed. On the other hand, about New Year's tide, Violet Carol became Marchioness of Chevychase. The rich young peer of that name, coasting 124 in his yacht along the shores of the Mediterranean, whither Violet had accom- panied ZoUie with Lord and Lady Rosemary, came, saw, and was conquered by her all in less than three months, and the marriage was celebrated under the blue sky and in the winter warmth of the olive country. Chevychase had been one of Mayrose's school friends, but the friendship cooled on the Marquis's side from the day of his marriage, and there is reason to Delieve that Violet caused her wedding to take pla . in France instead of waiting till she was home, solely that Mayrose and his wife might not be among the guests. She was a staunch little hater was Violet. When Lord Hornette had asked her to be one of Mary's bridesmaids she had refused with scorn, and her sister's illuesa developed her animosity against our friend to that agreeable feminine pitch which knows no bounds, and will be allayed by no reasoning. Furthermore, being now a Marchioness, she was going to have excellent opportunities of evincing her resentment and taking a leading part in the Boudoir Cabal. So we now resume our narrative at a ten months' distance from the last book, when another session has begun and when London 's once more full or filling. People are more excited when they were a year ago, for Mr. Paramount's adminis- tration having been in office a whole twelvemonth has received the customary hints that its popularity is waning. It has lost one or two borough seats hitherto con- sidered faithful ; it has quarreled with the Tobacco Interest, forfeited the confi- dence of the Soap-tax Repealers, been denounced in Exeter Hall by ladies and gentlemen interested in the promotion of infectious ladies, and in Hyde Park by the numerous Associations flourishing among us for the glorification of Treason, Cant, and Insalubrity. Moreover, ihaving ejected from Westminster Abbey a number of Shakers who had wished to try their right of dancing in the nave be- tween the services, it has incurred the odium of all lovers of religious equality ; and, worse than that, it has aroused the indignation of earnest Mr. Paradyse's party by introducing nothing into the Queen's Speech on the matter of Home Rule for Scotland, Wales, and the Isle of Wight. Tlie reason of this is simply that Mr. Paramount has not yet been able to educate his followers to the notion of bringing Britain back to the practice of the Heptarchy ; but Mr. Paradyse — who is the edu- catee, not the educator of his own disciples — intends to bring forward a motion (backed by agitation out of doors) to pledge the House of Commons to the pro- gramme of the Home Rulers ; and the question as to how Mr. Paramount will parry this lunge is the prime topic of the hour. Now, in a piously, industrious land it is natural that the man who has made a large fortune in no time should grow in public esteem every ^ear : therefore, Sir Ham Pennywoddle thus continues to grow ; and Mr. Quintus Dexter, who makes a handsome income by reporting the crimes and misdemeanors of an immaculate people, is much reverenced, too, and has risen in the course of one twelve-month to be a power in the State. ... . . i m .,, CHAPTER II. , , , , la PRINCE RUBINO CASINO DEI CASINI. il One day about noon Mr. Dexter wa.s seated breakfasting in liis rooms at the Albany, when a veiy editorial valet he had acquired brought him a visiting card. Mr. Dexter's rooms were those which Lord Horuette once tenanted, but had sur- rendered when he thought himself on the point of marriage ; and Mr. Dexter had taken them because the Albany is popularly supposed to be quiet. One might say a good deal about quiet rooms and streets, and point out that the quietest thor- oughfares are those Uke Fleet-street, where the continuous roll of traffic drowns all other sounds. In the Albany a man is disturbed twenty times in an hour by the newsboys, tradesmen, servants, and others clattering down the flagged passage, and raising loud echoes which are not of peace. But owing to the fondness of English- men for claustral life, this dull, dark block of houses, into wliich the sun never penetrates, ranks highest among bachelor residences. So probably Mr. Dexter felt quiet there. The card which the editorial valet now bore to him was engraved in the foreign 126 fashion with a coronet and gilt name : Prince Rubino Casino dei Caaini. Mr. Dex- ter bade that Prince Casino might be shown in, and there tripped in a smiling gentleman, well-known and liked in London Society. He had a crop of black hair, curly as a poodle's, and oiled ; round cheeks, blue where the razors had touched them, pink where they had not ; a raven moustache waxed at the two ends like gimlets; brown swimming eyes and laughing j teeth. He was faultlessly dressed ; had boots like mirrors, and a carnation in his button-hole ; and his English, though peppered with French and Italian exclamations, was very good and intrepid. " Mon cher Dexter, I thought to find you in bed or out of doors," he began, smiling upon the editor with his whole face as he shook hands. " You are at home, tant mieux; influential people are not always so accessible." " I should think everybody was at home to you. Prince." "Women, alas, yes I especially near forty years old. I call upon such ones hoping they have gone out into the Park, but the servant says : ' Step in, sir.' On the other hand, the man fi'om whom one wants a favour, mon Dicu ! how often he has gone for a walk." " Well, sit down," said Mr. Dexter, who albeit the early hour had not been surprised in his dressing-gown, but was fully equipped for giving audiences. " Can I offer you some breakfast?" " Yes, I will take a cup of your excellent tea. You English talk business better with your mouths fuU than otherwise, and my visit is for business. I hear you have much power over Sir Ham Pennywoddle, and I want you to introduce me." The servant set a plate and oup, drew up the blind a few inches to let in more Ught, and poked a fire which needed no poking ; the Prince, drawing off his gloves, sat down to the table and stirred his tea in the most convivial way possible. But when the servant was gone, Mr. Dexter said : " Sir Ham and I are friends, and I will introduce you with pleasure, but you t.re mistaken as to my having power over him." " Mon cher Dexter, if I did not think you had power I would not be here. It is not an ordinary introduction, or I would have said to some man in a drawing- room, * Present me to that ridiculous Pennywoddle,' and it would have been done. What I want is to borrow of Monsieur Pennywoddle five millions sterling." " Five millions ?" and Mr. Dexter held his cup in mid-air. " Yes, I would like better ten millions, but one must be reasonable — and it is not for myself. Listen, mon brave Dexter, we have known each other some weeks, and are true friends, but I will explain : You have heard of the Republic of Rio- Brigande V " Rio-Brigande de las Bancorottas ?" "The same. Three times has it repudiated its national debt, and forty-six times changed its President in fifty-one years. It is time that should stop." " The sooner the better." "So my friend Descamisado says. 'Is it not time,' exclaims he, 'that a land which can cultivate the sugar-cane, coffee, tobacco, cotton, and I do not know what more, should rest from shooting its most illustrious citizens, and driving the rest into exile V and I agree with him. Why, the country is in revolution now. According to the last telegrams the Insurrectionary J unta had voted that it would go to war with all the world preferably to paying its debts, and the Cabinet Minis- ters have been put to flight." "I should think they were used to that." '* It is so, but 1 have faith that a new era will soon commence for them under the nile of my friend Descamisado. All he wants is some of your English sterlings. He and I were at school together in Paris, and I know his worth, for though poor he is energetic, and has made . f the science of politics a study. It is in Descami- sado's name that I want to go to Sir Pennywoddle, and say . * Lend five of your millions for the regeneration of Rio-Brigande. The loan will bear ten per cent, interest, and be guaranteed by customs receipts and tobacco monopoly.'" "Ay, but who will guarantee the tobacco monopoly ? Is Senor Descamisado President of the Republic ?" 126 " Eceo mi ! no, but he will shortly be. When he heard of this revolution he cried, ' Caramba V and sailed. That was three weeks ago. His last words to me at the Cafe Tortoni, in Paris, were : ' When next you hear of me 1 shall have made myself master of my miserable country and of the Junta, spilled the blood of the ringleaders, restored order, and closed the era of revolutions in Rio-Brigande.' That is what he said, finishing his absinthe, and it is a noble purpose. " ** Supposing the Junta spill his own blood, though ?" " Descamisado can take care of his skin. He will worm himself into the con- fidence of everybody, then jump on them with his boots, for he has read Machia- velli. Ah, Dio ! Descamisado will rank in history beside Cromwell and Rienzi. He has no belief in Parliaments. The Cortes of Rio-Brigande have been talking for the last fifty years. He will say to them, * Gani maladetti, brntte be$He ! ko ofT, and do something useful !' and he will kick them out to rule by himself alone." Thus spoke Prince Casino, who was a brilliant discourser, and whilst trifling with his tea he sketched such a well-coloured picture of Rio-Brigande reviving to peace, happiness, and solvency under the fostering hand of his friend Descamisado, that Mr. Dexter listened at first with amusement and then with a spice of interest. Prince Casino was not an adventurer. He had a grape-vine somewhere ia Greece or Italy, and could have lived on it if put to the pinch. But he made no secret of the fact that he was to have a commission on the loan of five millions ; indeed, he would have considered it an insult to the good sense of his hearer if he had pre- tended that he was launching himself into the concerns of Rio-Brigande, or )f any other Republic or kingdom, for nothing. Prince Ca8inf>'8 infantine candour was one of the points that made him — as it does many other Italians — so adept in ne- gotiation, and much more than a match for cautious Britons, who think that every- body is going to overreach them. He was so far from wishing to overreach any- body, that if there had been any roguery mixed up in this aff"air he would have en- tered into it all minutely. He swallowed two cups of tea and a tumbler of sugared water, and talked an hour, till Mr. Dexter was rather dazzled. The Prince's un- exceptionable position in society of course lent some weight to his utterances, for Mr. Dexter worshipped an authentic title, as does every other respectable Briton. "Well, Prince," said he, handing his visitor a box of pink Russian cigarettes, " I do not see why all you expect should not come to pass. The country will have to be regenerated some day, so Senor Descamisado may as well do it as anybody else. But why don't you apply to regular bankers ?" " Ah, San Gennaro ! I have applied to a dozen, and they bow me to the door. One says, ' I have my cupboard full of Rio-Brigande scrip, which is good to light the fire with.' Another gets red in the face and -says, ' I'll see 'em d — d first !' This is what they say, because they have no faith in Descamisado." '* I doubt whether Sir Ham will have faith either." " No, but you will have faith in my assurance, and you will persuade that fat man. To tell you the truth, amico mio, I have heard Sir Pennywoddle is a little simple, and simple men are like oranges, to be squeezed by the thirsty. I would not propose to you a thing which I did not think solid ; but Descamisado is a man to trust, for he will snap his forefinger and thumb at diflficulties, whatever they be." " And he has a party ?" " Certes, a strong party!" exclaimed the Prince, blowing blue rings from his pink cigarette. " There is no rosewater in his veins ; and what blood he thinks useful to spill he will spill, my good Dexter. There will be men hanged, others shot ; some will find their houses accidentally burned ; and when they look for their property — presto — it will be in Descamisado's coffers. All this will be terrible, and the streets will for a time be full of shrieks ; but Rio-Brigande will be like a strong girl rising up beautiful from a bed of disease ; and she will pay her debts, which will comfort the bankers of you English in the City." It was a singular thing enough this discussion about the expediency of promot- ing bloodshed from a speculative point of view. " Will it be a good investment to furnish one Descamisado with the means of slaughtering a few hundreds of sallow Republicans a few thousand miles off?" That was the question in its tersest form which was being discussed by an agitated Italian and a cool London editor. Mr. 127 Dexter had not to lend the money — he had only to apeak ; and he waa too much of a bbUever in adventurers tint to cheriah a sort of fellow-feehng towards the enter- prising Bio-Brigandian, the more so as it was tolerably indifferent to him how Sir flam disposed of his money. He had paid off half the sum lent him to found the Reporter, and before long he hoped to liquidate the rest. Now that Mary was married, he had no further concern in Sir Ham's fortune than that which the pur- chaae of shares in the Oyster-Shell Company gave him, and if Sir Ham took to dab- bling in foreign loans, he, Mr. Dexter, might be able to clear something thereby, and liberate himself the faster. So he replied, after a little rr flection — "You would want to be introduced to Sir Ham without delay, and we will go to his house this very evening if you like. But I tell you fairly my influence over him is slight, and he is not the simple man you take him for. If you want to suc- ceed you must secure the good graces of one whose little finger would be more potent than all my reasoning." "Who is that valuable person, mon bon Dexter? I need not tell you, " (and here removing the cigarette from his lips, he smiled a sweet smile, such as the most polished Fra Diavolo might have worn in dealing trumps out of a tricked pack of cards,) " I need not tell you that I understand English principles of business. Yon help me, and you become my partner in my little profits of the commission, and so will your other advocate ; but I hope there will not be many partners. I always say to myself, ' Let me put as few oats as possible near the cream-jug'." "This cat will not stand near the cream-jug," said Mr. Dexter, politely, but ignoring the first part of the remark, for thoui;h he was not the man to despise a bonus, he was Englishman enough to feign being above such a transaction. "Ah! is it his son-in-law, that Milord Mayrose ?" interrupted the Italian, eagerly, but with an air of great dismay, '' if it is, I fear me that my friend Desca- misado and I must go elsewhere. For I am a judge of faces, and that Milord Majrrose will let Rio-Brigande go to the bottom of the Atlantic before he would stir a finger for it." "So I think," laughed Mr. Dexter, queerly ; "but the person I mean has more influence over Sir Ham than Lord Mayrose or than the latter's wife. Have you ever met in society a young lady who is generally to be seen with Lady Penny- woddle or Lady Mayrose — a Miss Marvell V " Have I seen Miss Marvell ? Why, I have dreamed about her — sighed about her ! Ah, mon bon Dexter, I saw that angel in an opera-box one night, and when I had discovered her name, I looked about for some one to present me ; b\it be- fore I could meet her again, Descamisado Mrrote for me to join him in Paris ; and since my return I have hunted those English bankers, and have not had a chance of again beholding that pearl." " Well, Prince, the person who has most influence ov»r Sir Ham is Miss Mar- vell. She has been living more than a year in his house, and could make him pour all his money into her lap if she were so minded." " Whew !" whistled the perspicuous Italian, making two circumflex accents of his eyebrows. "And Miss Marvell is Sir Ham's — niece, cousin — his ?" " No, she is nathing for the present but a companion to Lady Penny woddle, and I am probably the only man who is aware that she may be anything more in the future. Lord Mayrose does not guess it, and she will keep it concealed from him as long as she can. But I must warn you of this, that if you wish to obtain her as- sistance for this loan you must point out that Sir Ham might get something more than money through it. Are there any orders of knighthood in Rio-Brigande ?" "Any number — yes, three — no, six, or fifteen — I forget; but Sir Ham shall have an Italian Barony, a Portuguese Grand Cross, two Spanish ribbons, and all the Republics of the South shall shower their crosses on him. Ah ! I understand, that girl says to herself, Lady Pennywoddle is old and fat ; if he dies I will, by God's help, be Lady Pennywoddle, and my husband shall be a Peer, and shall have orders on his waistcoat. Ah, me ! but she is a divine creature, and her eves dived into mine like hot coals. In our country the cardinals would pine for her, and laz- zaroni serenade her — but she is too good for Pennywoddle." " Tush !" said Mr. Dexter, throwing away his cigarette ; '' this is a secret be- 4? 128 tween yuu and me, Prince. To-morrow Lady Mayrose is goins to givo her fimt ' At home' in Berkelv Square, and everybody will be there. If you like to come with me 1 will introduce you tu the host and hostess, to Sir Ham and to Miss Mar- veil ; your own wit must do the rest." CHAPTER III. A SPLIT IN THE CABINET. Prince Casino, having all confidence in his own wit, tripped away from the Albany to the Brummel Club, in St. James-street, of which he wuh a member. He was one of those exotics whom society Igvch to pet, and led a roving life of pleasure between Rome, Paris, and London, dining alwavs in the best houses, gambling for high staketi, and paying his losses like a man ; having acquaintances also among the great of this earth — to wit, bankers and statesmen, and being much in request among the tenderer sex, rather too much perhaps for his liking. He preferred London to other cities for the reason — which would have seemed unintelligible to any Briton of the middle classes — that it was the only place in the world where a titled man might do as he pleased. " In other countries," he said, " you have prying newspapers, or public opinion, or a severe clergy, or a military court which keeps a strict eye on you ; but here nothing of the sort. Have a title, be rich, and the press will print nothing against you ; public opinion classes you among the immaculate ; the Bishop he gives yon his blessing ; and the Court it asks you now and then to an open-air breakfast." It is true Prince Casino was much indebted for his ideas of British liberty to the fact of belonging to the Brummel, the most mighty and exclusive of all clnbs. It numbered but one hundred and fifty mem- bers, rejected you for one black ball in fifteen, and had a card room whern whist at one hundred guineas the rub was the rule rather than the exception. When Prince Casino had left the Brummel late in the small hours thrt morn- ing the members were jocosely discussing whether the Lord Chamberlain, Lord Uphill, would allow Lady Downdale to appear at the next Drawing- Room ; but now he found the place in strange comraotion. Early as it was the reading-room was full, and the men were talking excitedly in groups. " What is it?" said Prince Casino, accosting the best dressed man in London, Sir Windsor Chatt. " Has milady slapped Lord Uphill's ears ?" " Not so bad as that, Cass," replied Sir Windsor, dropping his eye-glass to see the Italian better. " It's only the Cabinet that's gone to smash." Prince Casino pricked up his ears, and wedged himself into a circle, of which Dolly Drone and the Marquis of Chevychase, Violet Carol's young and handsome husband, were the centre, and here he learned that Mr. Parana onnt had just been explaining how he purposed parrying Mr. Paradyse's Homa-It\-,le thrust. In a Cabinet Council held that morning the Premier had stated th.-^^c Manhood and Female Suffrage could alone ward oif this traitorous blow. I'Av. proposed meeting Mr. Paradyse's "resolutions" by a counter-set declaring ''thtit in the opinion of this House it is inexpedient to debate on such a momentous question as the dis- memberment of the Empire until the voice of the whole British people has been appealed to, and that in consequence this House is of opinion that the time has arrived for enfranchising all those of Her Majesty's subjects, of both sexes, who have reached the age of twenty-one years ; and that furthermore, to the end that Her Majesty may be the more wisely advised as to the wishes of her people, the borough and county seats shall be re-distributed with a greater regard to the population of the constituencies." A copy of this gallant motion was already stuck over the chimney-piece, and Dolly Drone was informing the circle that two members of the Cabinet had resigned, and that there would probably be more resignations before the day was over. " Well, now, but your Paramount is a great man," cried Prince Casino, enthu- siastically. " Those who desert him have no soul for fine statesmanship, and no stomach for a good fight, as your Shakespeare says. Is it not so, Doll ?" 129 was some been In a and leting on of dis- been has have Her ough ■on of ithu- d no " Don't ask Doll," laughed Sir Windsor; " he has not got his brother's orders yot, HO dooHn't know what he is to think." Doll Hmiled thickly, i -tddening. " Lord Stonohenge has resigned," said ho, " and so has Mr. Sterling. I have not heard what my uncle intends to do. He and my brother aro talking about it." At this moment Lord Honiotto came in briskly, but ho was followed almost instantly by u lloyiil I'rinco, an aasiduous l'r()(|uonter of the Club, and oouverantioa was hufihod for a space, all the members stnvding up and lifting their hats. The I'rinco know nothing of what occurred, or h;iil fhe tact to pretoml that ho did not, for, after Rluiking hands with a few of his intimates, he saicf : — " Well, Hornetto, any news ?" " My uncle liaH resignod, sir," answered the Earl, naturally foeUng that all interest must converge upon the attitude which tho House of liumblebeigh would assume at this crisis. " Wo have followed Mr. Paramount a good way, but we are not going to take this now loap in tho dark." '• Aud who avo to bo tho fresh Ministers ?" iutjuirod tho Prince, easily. " Mayroso will bo one, I'll bet I" broke in Lord Chevychaso, who was honoured with the Prince's friendship. " Mayrose used to bo a good fellah at Eton, but he's become atwociously unscwupulous." " It's your wife makes you say that," exclaimed Lord Hornetto, drily. "I don't know what all the women have got against Mpyrose, sir. They were mad about liim one time ; now they would stouo him — and yet people want to give the suffrage to creatures of that sort!" " Is not Mayrose down for admission to the club ?" asked the Prince, amused. " Yes, Your lloyal Highness. I proposed him." " And, Chevychase, lieaujolais, your brother Doll, and a number more are Roing to blackball him, laughed Prince Casino, who had from the first stood in the little throng gathered round H. R. H., and had adopted the smirkful miou of an habitual courtier. " If any blackball Mayrose they shall give their votes openly or I leave the Club, responded Lord Hornette, with a quick frown at his brother. " I have always detested tho ballot in politics, and think that to keep it up in clubs in order to annoy or dis^rac? a man on the sly is inconsistent and contemptible. There are times, too, when a man should assert his likes or dishkes ; aud, if your Royal Highness does not object, I mean to convoke a general meeting to rescind our rules about secret voting. Let one black ball out of fifty exclude a man, if the committee like ; but let us have things done above board." It is not etiquette to debate on politics in the presence of Royalty, and as the Cabinet crisis was too engrossing a topic to bo shelved, the Prince had the good taste to retire. Some of the other members speedily dispersed to gather fresher news at the Reform and Carlton, and Prince Casino emerged, deliberating as to which of his numerous lady admirers he should call on to retail the tidings he al- ready possessed. But Dolly Drone and Lord Chevychaso overtook him on the pavement, and addressed him with bitter re^troof : — " What the deuce did you tell my brotlior I was going to blackball Mayrose for ?" " Confound it, yes; a mai. keeps those things secwet!'' added Lord Chevy- chase. "Mon pauvre Doll ; I thought you English plumed yourselves on your courage ?" '* Courage, hang it? Quarrel with a man who has been at school with you ; who has forty thousand a year, and who may bo in the Cabinet to-raorrov/ ?" said Doll, in deep disgust. " I am a younger son, you know. Hornette needn't care ; he'd blackball the whole Royal Family, and brag about it." " I'll blackball Mayrose openly, demme ! but I'd much wather have done it on the quiet," drawled Lord Chevychase. *'* But look here, Cass, you must come to my house and explain to the ladies how you've put your foot in it." " Yes, you come with us, Cast.," groaned Doll. "Hornette has become as 180 hard as nails since his marriage has been adjourned, and I'm not going to fall out with him. He'd crumple me up like a bag, by Jingo." Thu truth is, honest Dolly had meant to blackball Mayrose because Lady Cor- almere had ordered him so to do. At heart he was on excellent terms with May- rose, and rejoiced at his marriage because it had removed his mnat dangerous rival to Lady Coralmere's hand. The Marquis of Chevychase, who had liked Majrrose at school, was now the obedient servant of his wife, and having been assured by her that Mayrose had wickedly jilted Zellie, was disposed to go any lengths in hostility towards hiiu for the sake of domestic peace — though inwardly he too objected to strife. Now Violet Chevychase was giving a luncheon party that day, at which divers promoters of the Boudoir Cabal were to meet ar.d discuss the delicate ques- tion of accepting or refusing the invitations they had received to Lady Mayrose's first At Home on the morrow ; so both Chevychase and Dolly were glad to thrust the curly-headed Italian Prince forward in order that he might confess to having rendered the black-balling difficult if not impossible, and become a scape-goat to the feminine wrath in their stead." They walked to Lord Chevychase's house in Grosvenor Square, and Violet re- ceived them, surrounded by her court of fair Caballers. There was Lady Coral- mere, whose husband was not dead yet. but then a brace of doctors had been brought over from the 'vilds of Germany, and had pledged their reputation, which was immerse, that he could not survive three months at the farthest ; and Lady Beaujolais was there, very anxious as to what she should bid her husband do inth's Cabinet split, for if Lord Htarkaway, the Master of the Buckhounds, resigned, then Lord Beaujolais ought to bide firm and get his place, whereas if Lord Harkaway stood his ground, tlien the Master of the Royal Beagles, having nothing to gain, ought perhaps to obey the dictates of his conscience and join the Secessionists. And Mrs. Coney Bussle was there, and Lady Canonlaugh, and Lady Charlotte Midge, and an altogether grand gathering of the Midge and Rodent connection. Violet stood among them, looking more beautiful, if possible, than before her mar- riage, and occupying almost four square yards of room with her azure-blue dress. She smiled to her husband, gave a nod to Dolly, and extended a hand to the se- ductive Italian, who took a foreigner's privilege and kissed it. " But, bella marchesa, let me kneel at your feet," eaid he, cheerfully, "for 1 have a niea culpa to make," and he related of what things he was accused. " Now, that is too bad !" pouted Violet, frisking her hand away from him. " Yoi. do not seem to understand that we must make those Mayrose's feel that all Society is against them without letting them know who their enemies actually are. You go and upset our best-laid schemes." •' I so entirely agree with you, my dear child," echoed virtuous Lady Canon- laugh, age thirty-six, teeth perfect, eyes holier than last year, religion more and more Evangelical. "And do you know whether Lord Harkaway has resigned ?" asked Lady Beau- jolais of the contrite Prince. " Iso. I think mile "' Harkaway holds to his place." " Ah, those Harkaw ■• d were always grasping, and quite unprincipled. After what Mr. Paramount has done Lord Beaujolais would never consent " " But I believe Harkaway has resigned," said Lord Chevychase. *' Then the Buckhounds ".'ill be vacant ! Dear me, I was going to add — after what Mr. Paramount has done he will be sadly in need of support, and I don't ex- pect my husband will ever consent to add to his difficulties." " It's not certain whether Harkaway resigns or stays," interrupted Dolly Drone, with authority. "Altogether it will require time to decide how one ought to act in such a junc- ture," broke oft' Lady Beaujolais, coolly. " One never knoy,rs till after reflection what are the true merits of a case" "Yes ; but the question for us is how we shall act towards Lady Mayrose," exclaimed Violet. " No, Prince, I won't have you sit near me, because you have behaveu badly. I vote we none of us go to Lady Mayrose's party ; and then to- 131 fall out idy Cor- th May- B rival to yrose at [ by her hostility jected to at which te qjes- layrose's o thrust having 3-goat to riolet re- ly Coral- had been an, which and Lady do in this ;ned, then Harkaway to gain, essionists. Charlotte mnection. 3 her mar- ine dress. ;o the se- ■<■ for I om him. that all ually are. 7 Canon- more and ady Beau- 3d. After idd— after don't ex- ted Dolly ich a junc- reflection Mayrose," you have , then to- morrow there ia a Drawing-room, and we shall probably meet her there with her husband ; and we must cut them." " They say Mayrose is going to get one of the seats in '^he Cabinet," remarked Lord Chevychase. " Seat in the Cabinet ! Impossible!" cried Violet, starting. " Oh, but that would be just like him — a man without any convictions ready to sacrifice anything for place." "Milord Rosemary — is he going to resign?" inquired the Prince, without meaning harol. " Oh, papa, he's quite diflferent," rejoined Viole*;, blushing. I don't know what he will do, but then he is Mr. Paramount 's own friend." " Lord Mayrose in the Cabinet !" exclaimed Lady Be^jolais, astonished, and she then felt in a cruel dilemma, for if her husband got the Buckhounds he and all the members of the Cabinet who remained faithful to Mr. Paramount would be expected to live at amity. She indeed for her part could not well remain at war with a Minister who had much patronage to di-ipose of. Business first, grudges afterwards. *' But is the report true ?" said she. '* Whether it be or not, my dear Alice, can make no difference in our conduct as regards Lady Mayrose," observed Lady Canonlaugh, making room beside her for reluctant Prince Casino, whom she was piously trying to convert to Protestantism since that adventure at Richmond. " No difference at all," chimed in Mrs. Bussle, who would never forget to her dying day how her chignon was knocked off. ''Well, I am glad to hear you say that, for it is a question of enforcing the dignity a»d sanctity of marriage," said Violet, taking wedlock under protection with all the augustness of a wife of four months' standing. " We should show no quarter to men who marry for money, and then want to force their vulgar wives on us. It is agreed then that we all send this woman to Coventry ?" Lady Beaujolais made no reply ; but Mr?. Bussle and the Ladies Midge were loud in declaring that they would not attend Lady Mayrose's party ; and this was the more self-denying of them, as it so happened that they had none of them re- ceived invitations. CHAPTER IV. HER majesty's DRAWING-ROOM. They h; d not been invited because Lady Mayrose had very soon after har marriage laid herself out to ascertain who were her husband's enemieb, and had made up her mind to render them tit for tat. Affectionate wives are generally combative, and some of them introduce into the ordinary business of life more combat than is perhaps required. So it was with Mary. In marrying her Mayrose had not taken to wife any namby-pamby girl, but a sturdy little woman, who was resolved to be his helpmate, and would, if need were, have fought for him with mind, tongue, ay, or hands, till she dropped. A year's wedded life had beautified her as it had Violet Carol, and she was in- expressibly happy — never suspecting that half her happiness arof.e from her hus- band being just the reverse of happy. Yet such was the case. The French, who have dug deep into these matters, assure us that in every match one of the parties loves whilst the other suffers himself (or herself) to be loved. Now, Mayrose had never loved Mary, and marriage had brought him all the moni misery which at- tends an ill-assorted union. He had married a woman who could not think as he did ; and, though the tact of loving women is wonderful,, and their genius for adapting themselves to their husbands' moods almost mirac\ilous, Mary could not bridge over the gulf which education and early associations had put between them. Her bravo little mind was impregnated with all the ethics of the counting-house, his with the ideas of a finished scholar and gentleman. From the hour when they had been joined, he had seen that he must lower to her level day by day, for that she would never 182 llll'lfl^l; rise to his, and thinking of what a companion he would have found in Zellie, who was still free, and whom he now knew that he could have won had he spoken, his regrets were indeed poignant. But he let nothing of this be seen, and in his anguish lest his wife should suspect his sentiments, he pushed his demonstrations of tenderness towards her to limits that looked like worship. None bat a good-heart- ed man could have acted as he did. Continually on the watch over himself, his face lit up in smiles at her approach ; whatever she said or suggested, he assented to ; even on points where women love to meet with a little resistance, he yielded to her ; and, in fact, she ruled over him with a sway as absolute as any more am- bitious woman could have dreamed of. Attributing this hourly kindness and def- erence to his love, there is no cause to wonder that she esteemed herself the hap- piest woman whom Heaven had ever blessed. So happy that rumours of the Boudoir Cabal's hostility which had reached her as such things always do through kind friends — made her shrug her small shoul- ders pityingly. On the morning after the split in the Cabinet she scanned a large heap of letters she had received from persons who had accepted invitations to her first party ; and they were persons consequential enough to console her for any who might stay away . That was to be a busy day with her, for she was to be pre- sented to the Queen " On her marriage." The Duchess ot Bumblebeigh had gra- ciously offered to present Lady Pennywoddle ; Lady Pennywoddle was to present her daughter, and Mayrose, who had been presented at a previous Levee by Lord Albert Drone, his chief, was to attend as a bridegroom. As, however, it may please some readers to be reminded of what manner of pilgrimage is implied in at- tendance at a Drawing Room, we may as well recite what Mary had to go through. First, there came to her at nine o'clock that great capillary artist, M. Frise- meche, who parted with half-an-hour of liis time for a guinea. He arrived in a brougham, scampered up-stairs ; expected to find her ladyship seated before her toilet-glass, with attendants ready, one with combs, brushes, and hair-pins, another with feathei's, jewels, and veil, and in twenty minutes of breathless work he built up Marjf's hair into a fabric which she was severely cautioned would all get dis- turbed if she did not carry her head upright. M. Frisemeche gone, there succeeded twoyouuij ladies from ^Madame Organdi, the milliner's, who were some hoiirs fitting Mary's white dross, and satin train twelve feet long, which consummate finery was enhanced hy a rare assortment of diamonds, and by the famous pearl necklace pre- sented to her by the Worshipful Company of Sausage-Makers. Towards one o'clock Lady Pennywoddle arrived from Kensington with three ostrich-feathers on her head, and a train of crimson velvet ; at the same time Mayrose left his dressing- room in an otficial blue swallow-tail, with gold on the collar and cviffs, white cash- mere breeches and silk stockings, a straight sword and a cocked hat. Having with infinite precaution, lest he should stain their dresses, administered to his wife and mother-in-law a glass of champagne apiece and a sandwicli, Mayrose swallowed a little wine himself, and then they all three drove away to St. James' in the family coach. It was a new one ordered for the purpose ; had a dazzling hamm'^rclotli, a coachman with a three-cornered hat, a wig, and a bouquet, and behind it a pair- of footmen Avliose gold lace, pink calves, flowers, long staves, and sublime triangular beavers evoked a cheer from a few dirty boys clustering at the corner of Haj' Hill. In Piccadilly there was a block which lasted half an hom% but by patient trust in Providence, and some shouting to the police by the footmen, the line managed to crawl on, so that not later than two hours after leaving Berkeley Square the coach drew up under the pent-house at the eastern entrance of the palace. Here the occupants of the coach were released, and, passing through a blaze of royal domestics, sailed down a long corridor, bordered on either side by sight-seers, dress- makers, milliners, friends of the household, tradesmen's daughters, and such like, all smartly dressed, and privileged to stand for a couple of hours and watch the company pass. From some not inaudible comments whispered by those bystanders, Mayrose gathered that his mother-in-law was carrying her train in a lump as if it were a bundle of linen for the wash, and he had to direct her as to how it should be borne easily, and gracefully, if possible, over the left arm. Lady Pennywoddle complied by looking at Maiy, who had been well schooled by Madame Organdi's 133 people, and the pair diverged to the left to face the new batch of sightseers congre- gated in a gallery above the first flight of stairs. Up these stairs, then to the left, then up some more steps, and, having prudently brought no shawls or wrappers to delay them in the cloak-room, the party streamed into the first reception-chamber. But here began the crush. Her Majesty's loyal subjects, being numerous and impatient of admission to the Boyal presence, wisely modelled their behaviour on that of audiences pushing at a pit entrance on Boxing night. Disdaining to use any of the rout-seats pro- vided for them, they pressed forward all together as fast as they could go, in one guttering, rustling, headlong, babbUng torrent till checked by a bar set up at the entrance of one of the grand drawing-rooms. There, some poUte but firm door- keepers had to withstand the general and loudly expressed desire of everybody to keep up the helter-skelter to the finish ; and the consequence was that hundreds of ladies, already flushed, discomposed, and rumpled by their valiant struggles through the crowd, came to an inextricable tangle. One could hear such woeful dialogues as : " Please, will you allow me to pass ? I have two daughters to present." " I can't indeed ; I have girls, too, and this is their first drawing-room." " Dear me, mamma, my' hair is coming down !" and minghng with these came spiteful inter- jections firom dowagers whose skirts were being rent by spm-s, and indignant gasps firom old maids who felt their gray shoulders scraped by the helmets which officers of Life Guards or Dragoons were carrying under their arms. Some young ladies, maddened by the thou ^ut that if they were kept there long the Queen would be going away, so that they would have had all their dressing and worry for nothing, fairly sat down and cried ; whilst their chaperons kept up a running fire of sarcasm against persons who attended the Drawing Room " having no sort of business there." However, everything has an end, and each time the bar was raised a bevy was tided through, and rolled away on its course towards the " Pen " — a space railed off by a scarlet rope drawn down the length of the principal State-room, gorgeous with its human Uning of Yeomen of the Guard, in red and gold. Mayrose and his charges having cleared the bar, were enabled to reach the " Pen " in something like marching order ; and then, by looking at the empanelled glasses to the left, they had the comfort of being able to see how much damage had been done them. A lock of Mary's hau- was trailing over her shoulder, and a foot foot of the Brussels point-lace on her di'oss were gone. Lady Pennywoddle by squaring her elbows had got through more unscathed, but she had lost one of her ostrich feathers, and wanted to turn back and look for it. Other sufferers in front of them were piteous in their wailings. One lady had dropped a bracelet ; another's train was giving way at the shoulder ; a third's tiara had got displaced ; a fourth moaned that she was going to faint, and her mother was crying out for a smelling bottle. By such impressive incidents is the majesty of Courts promoted, and true loyalty put to the test. No one grumbled. Some looked into the garden under the windows, and gasped like caged bh'ds in envy of a pair of butterflies fluttering there ; but the dominant feeling was that now all troubles were about to end, for the distance between the "Pen" and the Throne Room is short. Lady Pennywoddle, apprised of the fact that she was about to behold Majesty, turned vermillion, and, if the truth must be told, regretted that she had not taken two glasses of champagne before starting to steady her nerves. Her confusion was not lessened by the jaunty politeness of a pair of satin pages, who at the door of the Throne Room delivered the ladies of their trains, and spread them out fair be- hind. They were nimble enough in this work, and then a Vice-Chamberlain, standing in the doorway, bowingly asked Lady Pennywoddle for her cards — large bits of pasteboard, with names of presenter and presentees legibly written out, as the Lord Chamberlain, Earl Uphill, had directed in the Gazette. He was stand- ing with a basket beside him, was this mighty oflicial ; and when Mayrose, Mary, and Lady Pennywoddle at length entered the Throne Room, he read out their names with as courtly a lisp as if he were apologizing for something. Her Majesty stood in front of the Imperial arm-chair, with ladies and gentlemen in waiting be- hind her, a galaxy of Royal Princesses and Princes to her left. Ministers of State «nd Foreign Ambassadors grouped round and about her ; and the array of stars. 1 ' .ppl^ 184 jewels, royal graces and magnificence made up a sight so grand that Lady Penny- woddle would have been glad of some excuse to tiirn tail and depart without per- forming her act of fealty. But her name had been read ; Loni Uphill dropped the card into his basket, and Lady Pennywoddle was fain to strut forward and kiss the Queen's hand. It was not a successful display. Though she had been la- boriously coached, she clean forgot everything she had been taught, ducked like an applewoman, and would have tripped over her dress as she leaned had she not kept her balance by getting a firm grasp of her sovereign's fingers. Mary followed, and undulated through her curtsey and hand-kissing simply and gracefully enough, though not without growing very red ; Mayrose made a profound bow in passing Her Majesty, and received a gracious bend of the head in return. He received something more, for in backing out he noticed the careworn but always impassive features of Lord -Treasurer Paramount fixed upon him with conspicuous benevo- lence. The glance was merely fleeting, however, for the pages caught up the ladies' trains, chucking them into their arms not over ceremoniously ; and the important solemnity of presentation was terminated. But alas ! the getting home was another affair. " We shall be home in half an hour now," whispered Mayrose to his wife, as they left the Throne Room, ignor- ing, guileless man, that Royalty is fenced in with observances even as to the getting up one's coach. Mary was tired, and, now that the nervousness of pres- entation was over, felt inclined for some tea. Lady Pennywoddle could have tackled more substantial refreshment, but hungry or not the laws of St. James's Palace are as immutable as those which kept the Medes and Persians in such fine trim ; so that one hour glided by, then another, then a third, and saw Mayrose and his party labouring towards the corridor where the sight-seers had been when they arrived. They saw plenty of friends and enemies, but friends and foes were in one draggle-tail confusion blent. Violet Chevychase, who had resolved to cut them, was sitting shivering on a bench with her train wrapped round her shoulders, her hair wild, her dress torn, and all the spirit gone out of her. Some of the ladies Midge were inert bundles of misery, straining their ears to catch, through the din of the crowd at the door, their names bawled by the scarlet servants, and droop- ing when the name of This or That, but never the name of Midge, clove the hot air. A man who should have appeared at this juncture with a teapot and a bag of rolls would have got his own terms, and been blessed into the bargain as a benefactor of his species. Instead of any such Providence, Colonel Dandelion, the whip of Mr. Para- mount's party, suddenly made his way towards Mayrose just as the latter was growing seriously concerned about Mary's weary face. Though she bore it very well, and smiled whenever he looked at her, he was fearful that she should break down with all this fatigue, to be followed by a hurried dinner, a second dressing, and then a long pai-ty without any possible interval of rest. Whilst he was making an effort to reach the door and expostulate with somebody, Colonel Dandelion stopped him : " I say, Mayrose, I called at your house just after you had started, and posted after you here, hoping to catch you before this and have a talk. You're not going to desert us, are you ?" " No," said Mayrose, of whose arm the Whip kept a tight hold lest he should lose him in the surf of crowding persons. " No, I have been thinking over the matter since yesterday, and I suppose all that I saw in the papers was true, for Lord Albert was not at the office yesterday, and I have heard nothing official!" " Oh, he has trimmed, and so have all the Drones — but you approve ?" "Viscountess Mayrose 's carriage stops the way?" yelled two servants in an excited and injured tone, as if it were they who deserved most sympathy. It was then past seven o'clock. • " Yes, I approve," said Mayrose, " but I have no time to give you my reasons, for I see there's our carriage at last !" " Well, as soon as you have set Lady Mayrose home, just drive to Downing- street; Paramount wants to see you." T ts in an It waB 185 CHAPTER V. PROMOTION. Mr. Paramount's wish was, of course, to be obeyed. As soon as Mayrose could extricate his wife from the crush he drove home with her, and then, without wait- ing to dine or change his things, jumped back into his coach, and turned towards Downing-street. He apologized to Mary for leaving her thus abruptly ; but the excitement of his summons had dispelled her weariness ; and all the way from the Palace she had speculated with him as to what Mr. Paramount might be going to offer. She well knew by this time the hierarchical order of the different high beings of State, and could discriminate quite nicely between a post which entailed a seat in the Cabinet and one that did not. Said she, as her husband handed her out of the coaeh : " Mr. Paramount should give you the best thing at his disposal, and I am sure you ought to insist on it!" "I do not expect a seat in the Cabinet," he answered, smiling ; " if I get the Telegraphs it will be very quick promotion." But at this she gave a little toss of her head, as devoted and admiring wives will. Of the merits of the question which had caused this sudden disruption of the Cabinet Mayrose did not talk with his wife ; but his mind was rather troiibled nn the subject, and he would have liked to see Lady Rosemary, whose tact could have advised him safely in such a crisis. Fortunately, it happened that just as he reached the Premier's door Lady Rosemary's coach drew up in front of his. She had brought her husband from the Palace, and, after leaving him here, was going home ; but Mayrose alighted quickly and came to her coach-door as the footman was putting up the steps. He had not seen the Countess since his marriage ; for she had been abroad all the winter with Zellie, and had but very lately returned. He was struck now with the change which this winter's absence had m >> throng of loafers had gathered in the stre^ exchange criticisms on the footmen't on Ives ; hanging about to try and get early imuvm;i+'' clerks and office-messengers. So Mayrose to promise that she would be at his party by-and-bye, and then passed up the steps nto the house. A porter reverentially swung back the doors for him, and handed him on to another, who conducted him without delay to Mr. Paramount's room. It was the self-same room where Mayrose had been summoned more than a year before on the occasion of his tiff with Mr. Keane-Midge, and now, as then, Lord Rosemary and Sir Tito Tumb were present. All luiee Ministers shone in their gorgeous official vestments, but as it had been a Collar-day, and Lord Rose- mary was a Knight of the Garter, he wore satin breeches, a gold collar, and blue velvet mantle, and was covered over with white satin bows, hke the handsome quarters of meat exhibited after a cattle show. Mr. Paramount, starless after the modern wont of English Premiors, looked wan in contrast with the blaze of gold lace on his breast ; but he received Mayrose with a kind, almost fatherly shake of the hand, and told him at once what his new place was to be. He wished him to accept the Secretaryship of State for Africa. Now this sublime post was one which the Marquis of Stcnehenge had vacated, and it was always bestowed upon Peers of the first magnitude, who generally ■btained in virtue of it one of the first blue ribbons vacant. Mayrose had expected it most to get the Telegraphs, or the Keepership of the Parks, and, surprised as much as pleased at his startUng rise, he ascribed it — and rightly so — to his mar- riage, which had ranked him among the first landowners. " So," thought he, " I am indebted to Maiy for this." He bowed, muttering some confused thanks, and Mr. Paramount blandished him with one of those fi-iendly compliments which oozed as naturally out of him as gum from a pear-tree. '* You have no need to thank me," said the Premier, " for you have done a great be allowed to lead a party unless his family have been statesmen for a hundred years, and have taught him to bo patriotic apd that kind of thing. But as to you, Mayrose, you know what people say about your conduct. You've a pack of enemies — Midge and Rodent women whom yoii've otfended some- how, and they'll get swearing that you only clang to Paramount because you were a place-hunter, and wanted to become an earl. They've already said that you're a fortune-hunter, and I gave them the lie, by Gad ! But these things stick to a man. Here, now, don't be hnfted, but just before I came here I saw Ohevychase and his wife, Mrs. Buasle, and some more of them, and I told them we had all put reliance on you. Well, the women giggled, and Violet Chevychase said you would spin round lilcc a weather-cock to whichever side your profit lay. Come, show all that spiteful bjt that they've nnsjudged you." At this moment Mary rustled quickly into the room, one coruscating blaze of silks and jewels, and sparkling eyes. She thought her husband was alone, and on discovering her mistake ought to have withdrawn, and would have done so, had she been trained to the usages of high life. But she had overheard Lord Hcra- ette's last word, and gathering that her husband stood in peril through womea^s tongues, rushed speedily and with uncalled for valianco to the rescue : ** Oh, Lord Hornette, how can it matter what a number of ill-natured women say ?" exclaimed she, with a scornful pout. "I have been told about them all. There's odious little Lady Beaujolais, who is as affected as a doll, and Lady Coral- mere, who dances about whilst her husband is dying, and that Lady Canonlaugh ! I am sure Lady Canonlaugh had better mind what she is about, for if I hear of her saying things " "Lady Beaujolais is not against us, iny dear," said Mayrose, with an appeal- ing glance, and colouring. " She spoke to me very kindly two hours ago, and is coming to your party to-night." Mary was all meekness in an instant. To anybody who was her husband's friend she would have knelt on both kneos, but it was bitter to her to think of Lady Canonlaugh, and her hazel eyes flashed sparks. Lord Hornette, a connois. 142 seur in women's beauty, was much surprised by her fresh loveliness and by her in- trepid readiness of tongue. She was not at all the mild miss he had known before her marriage, and his lordship jumped to the natural conclusion that Mayrose did not wear the hat in his own household. " Well, Lady Mayrose, if you approve of your husband's course, I have noth- ing further to say," he answered. " Only Mayrose and I are old friends, and I thought it well to warn him of the proverb that ' A good name is better than a goldTielt.'" " My husband will always have a good name, for, luckily, it is not such women as Lady Canonlaugh who can take it from him," responded Mary, stoutly ; " but you must remain true to us. Lord Hornette, for we value your esteem. You are a man every inch." Lord Hornette made the bow of a perfect gentleman and retired, but with a disappointed and vexed frown on his brow. He was vexed, because in the first place he always objected to be thwarted ; and in the next, because he was truly concerned about the incipient rottenness of this S*^ate of England, and would have gloried to see the house of Drone assert its power by forcing Mr. Paramount from the helm. The brougham that bore him away in dejected irritation crossed some carriages which were conveying the first-comers among the innumerable throng who were going to flood Mayrose House that night, anxious to see the new Cabinet Minister whom the Party Whips were vaunting as one of Mr. Parainount's trump cards. CHAPTER VIL LADY MAYROSE " AT HOME." Mayrose House had been well prepared for its guests, and shone with a pro- fusion of light, flowers, min-ors, and new French furniture. Mayrose was not one of those whose attachment for relics of the past fastens itself on old chairs and sofas, 90 during his honeymoon the residence of his fathers had been given over to upholsterers and painters, who had made it as unlike its former self as a lady's dvess of our day is difTorent to the heavy brocades of seventy years ago. There was a drawing-room furnished altogether in mauve satin and pale lilac, an- other in dark blue, a third in crimson. Mary's boudoir, committed to the ro- mantic fancy of a Parisian, had come out daintily fresh in ivory panels, azure-blue flowered satin, white lace, and Dresden ornaments. In all the rooms the ceilings and wood -work had been painted bv skilled artists; shapely crystal chandeliers glittered with a thousand facets, and had their brilliancy reflected in glasses so disposed as to open up endless avenues of illumination ; in short, the house thus renovated had become the fit home for a bride. It produced a very favourable impression in the serried hordes of visitors, whose carriage doors banged in the Square below far into the small hours ; fur somehow, whether from friendship or curiosity, it seemed as if all London had mustered for Lady Mayrose's party. It is true the times were stirring, and jiisti- fied any amount of curioajty. If Mr. Paramount could reconstruct his Ministry, the debate on Mr. Paradyse's Home-rule resolutions and on the Premier's amend- ment thereto would be commenced on the next night but one after this ; and in all the clubs, drawing-rooms, and places of polite resort, the splendid audacity of Mr. Paramount's " Great Move" was being discussed with gushing enthusiasm or in- tense bitterness, according as the disputants loved their politics hot davoured or mild. Under the circumstances it was only natural that people should hasten to stare at the young Peer, whom some knew to be already a Minister, and whom the rest had heard spoken of as likely to be one before the week was out ; it was natu- ral, too, that they should wish to see any other Ministers who might be present at the party, in order to watch how they bore themselves in this crisis. Such, indeed, was the rush that, there being no other Ministerial "At Home" that evening, a great many people came who had not been invited, and among them some of the Midge and Rodent caballerS; who arrived bravely under the chaperonage of friends. 143 LadioB never play quite fair. So far as regards the malice and talking required in a conflpiracy you mav trust them, but when it comes to staying away from festiye entertainments, wcuKness arises nmong them and backsliding. Mary stood iu the firbt recc'iUiou room and receive d her gucHtH with Hhakes of the hand or Hmiling bows ; and it wus admirable to uee how IIiIh little creature, who had been on her feet all day, bore up against a fatigue which to MayroHe seemed severe. It is posKible that ladies never feel tired when well-dreused and admired, for certainly Mary appeared to derive new Hlrcnglh from the compliments of every succeeding batch of great pernonagf s- who during two hours streamed past her. T' T^uke and Duchess of Bumblebeigh came with Lord and Lady Albert Drone, f liough they had heard just before starling that Mayroso refused to join their ledfjiue, it did not suit them to show they were offended ; and Lord Stouchenge, Mr. Stirling, and some other of Mr. Paramount's runaways, came too, following the British principle of not letting public differences interfere with private friendship. As to the Ministers in office — from the Earl of the Lobby, th«3 Foreign Secretary, with his Garter ribbon, to Sir Tito Tumb, the politician of all work — they were present to a man ; and it was not the least curious scene in this Vanity Fair to note the well-bred efforts of Partizans and the Secessionists to look quite civil and mutu- ally forgiving when they met. When they could, they, of course, avoided one another ; and soon this became easy, for the rooms filled one by one, and people got caked together like sardines, the staircases being the while encumbered by crowds who could neither get up nor go down. As usual, the invitations had been issued with a splendid disregard to the area of space available, and many ludiea wiio had had their Court di-esses ruined at St. James' iu the morning, must have spoiled other dresses and been half squeezed to death at this Berkeley Sciuaro party; but they were probably niiioug the foremost iu their belief that they b I spent a truly hapny day, for heroism takes many shapes. When the whole suite of rooms was or aed to suffocation, the host and hostess retired into the chief saloon, and those \ uld sidle near them observed that the Duchess of Bumblebeigh showed much c . ^ to Lady Mayrose, that Lady Rosemary sat beside her all the evening, and that the seductive Lady i3eaujolais laughed and chatted with her, and was most sisterly. As for Mayrose, he was surrounded by a clump of his colleagues, and by-and-bye these dropping away, left him conversing on the hearth-rug alone with the Premier. Mr. Paramount, like Napoleon III., had a trick of fastening his eyes on the carpet and of replying by slow nods, as if he tacitly agreed with everythmg that was said. At a time when onlookers were conjecturing that he and the new African Secretary must be conferring on a matter of great State moment^ — perhaps the Universal Suffrage Bill — he was relating to Mayrose how he had introduced tne culture of beet root on his estate, in the hope that it might be manufactured into sugar. There was no dancing, but a string band played in one of the rooms, alternat- ing with some Transylvanian flutists, the lions of the day, who skreeled away in a remote chamber because their music was too emphatic to be heard close. At one o'clock a supper was served, and then the martyrs on the staircase had their reward, for, being nearest to the ground-floor, they surged into the supper-rooms, one on the top of the other, as if they had been famished for a month past. Ortolans, plovers' eggs, lobster salad, truffled turkeys, and champagne were cleared away at a rate and with an appetite which suggested fears as to what might have been the fate of all these voracious people, if no food had been provided. It was at supper time that Mayrose first had the opportunity of seeing his father-in-law. He took the Duchess of Bumblebeigh down to supper, but her Grace would accept nothing save an ice, and this finished, begged to be escorted to her carriage. So Mayrose let her out, but coming back across the hall, he was waylaid by Sir Ham Pennywoddle, who had apparently been dogging him. " Look'eo 'ere, this is a fine party, my lud," said the Knight, sponging his hot brow with his white gloves. " I never saw such a lot of the quality assembled to- gether ; and now I've got to congrat'late yer on becoming a Minister, as I told yer you would be afore your marriage." ''My marriage has brought me good luck in every way," answered Mayrose, 144 wringing Sir Ham'a outstretched hand with the kind respect he always showed this honest relative. •' Aye, and it's a blessing to me to see what a good husband you make for my Mary," proceeded Sir Ham, towing his son-in-law by waddling stages as it were towards a comer under the stairs, where they could not be intruded upon. *' But now I want to ask you summat. Muster Paramount's here. Has he chosen 'is Chancellor of the Exchequer yet ?" " No, I believe not. Sterling was a good man, and is not so easy to replace." " V\ell, now, jist listen," whispered the Knight, rubbing his large red ears shjdy. " Why shouldn't I be Chancellor of the Exchequer ?" Mayrose stared, but his surprise left him no power to speak. Sir Ham con- tinued, purple in the f.ice, but bold : — ' ' Yon see, it's all in my line o' business, and parties have been sayin' to me that now you was in a fair way of being Minister I oughtn't to stick to the city as 1 did afore. Next year, or the year after, my tum'll come for being Lord Mayor ; but I've bean thinking I'd resign my Aldermanship, because it don't look well for a Peer like you, Avho'll be an Earl and a K. G. soon, to have a father-in-law sitting as a magistrate in the Guildhall, and looking ridic'lous in a red gown at the Lord 'Mayor's Show. Parties say it would be more stiitable for you if I was in the Cabi- net too ; — or if that can't be — why, perhaps you'd ask the Prime Minister to make a Peer of r.ie. I'd like to be a Peer." Mayrose stared more and more, and doubted his father-in-law's sanity. To be siire, if he had kept his eyes about him, he might have observed that Sir Ham had altered in more than one respect during the past year. His hair had stopped grey- ing, and WJ1S perceptibly turning to a brown, muddy colour. He was more care- ful about the cut of his clothes. He had purchased a pamphlet on fatness, and vas dieting himself on rusks and claret, according to its prescriptions. Then the city honours he had once coveted, with the ambition which should animate every loyal sausage-maker, seemed to have grown paltry in his sight, and his gen- eral talk indicated that he was obeying the inspirations of somebody — presumably the " parties" he cited — who had put him out of conceit with his old life, and filled his head with novelties. Mayrose had not heeded all this, but now, recalling stray syniptoms of this folly, or whatever else it was, his face expressed such be- wilderment that the Knight lapsed sheepish. "You ain't angered, Mayrose !" "You took me aback, that is all," coughed Mayrose, evasively. "I should have thought you preferred the House of Commons to the Lords.'* " It's parties that have advised me," wheezed Sir Ham, whose flushed counten- ance the gas lit up like a ruddy Dutch cheese. " Parties told me I ought to 'ave ambition." " I believe Mr. Paramount means to keep the Exchequer," said Mayrose, ner- vousljs as if he were pondering what argument he should adduce if the Knight urged his absurd claims with determination. " As to peerages, you i:now, they are only bestowed after long party service." " Well, I see you object," remarked the Knight, ruefully; "but look 'ee 'ere" — and his manner grew humble as a school-boy's as he laid a fat hand on his son- in-law's arm — "couldn't you give me some reason why I shouldn't be a Peer or sit in the Cabinet— reasons writ on paper, that I may show 'em to the parties. When parties say to me, 'You ought to be this, that, and 'tother,' I dunuo 'ow to answer em ; but if you coached me I might feel kind o' easier." The Transylvanian flutists, who struck up in an adjoining room so loudly as to drown all other soimds, dispensed Mayrose from complying immediately with this strange request. He promised to talk th'~- matter over with Sir Ham at another time, and walked towards the supper-room, feeling in no slight way alarmed at his relative's unexpected outburst, and wondering much who the misguided "parties" could be. If he had consulted Mr. Dexter, that gentleman would have revealed to him that these pai'ties were none other than Grace Marvell, who was at that moment under his roof, and had been attracting as much attention and admiration through- 145 should out the evening as she always did wherever she went. Majrrose met Mr. Dexter in the doorway of the supper-room, and remembering that he was commissioned to canvass him about the Reporter, addressed him on the subject there and then. The Editor hearkened deferentially, for, though the Reporter had become so great a success in his hands that it had distanced the circiilation of every other daily in Europe, it was still in part Sir Ham's property, and Sir Ham and Mayrose were one. Besides, Mr. Dexter had a belief in the condottiere talents of Mr. Paramount, and beUeved his to be the winning side. There could be no danger of ruffling the Reporter's public by the advocacy of such a measure as universal suffrage, and the Editor's cool vanity was soothed at being talked to in pubUc by a Minister whose rapid rise had astonished him, and whose name would in a few hours be canvassed aU over England. " If you could make your Parhamentary reports as much as possible like your legal, you would render us a service," suggested Mayrose, following out his instruc- tions. " Little comments on the appearance and manners of the members, you knew. People read and laugh at those things." " You are learning very early to ' nobble ' the press, my lord," laughed Mr. Dexter, with a bow. " Oh, we do not wish you to do anything you conscientiously object to," answered Mayrose, with a touch of superciliousness. He felt that involuntary con- tempt for the press which is bred in the bone of British noblemen, and comes from the fact that the press has never risen here to be that terrible power for good or evil which it is in some other lands. Abroad, individual journalists stir up the people and promote revolutions ; in Britain, newspapers follow the lead of the Party wire- pullers, instead of controlling them. The difference is gi'eat. However, Mayrose added, "If we pass the Suffrage BUI my help may assist you in getting back to Parliament. If you decide on returning to a career where you would be certain to succeed, you may rely on me " Mr. Dexter bowed again, and could not but admire the easy celerity with which the young Peer had entered into the time-honoured spfrit of British statesmanship. He strolled away as leisurely as the swarms of feeders would permit him, and looked for Prince Casino, who had come with him to be introduced to Sfr Ham Pennywoddle and Grace Marvell, with a view to effecting that Rio-Brigande loan. Threading himself a path through squads of gentlemen, and servants racing about with plates and bottles, and carefully avoiding treading on the skirts of ladies who had abandoned all concern about thefr flowing robes in their one absorbing anxiety to eat, he discovered the Italian catering for Lady Beaujolais, and radiating smiles and blandishments around him as usual. He managed to beckon him away, and introduced him to Sfr Ham, who was packed in a corner talking to Sfr Tito Tumb ; then he conducted him to Lady Pennywoddle, whom some gay Poreign-ofl&ce clerks appeared t' be politely roasting whilst she disposed in a business-like way of a plats of soup, i- dither the Knight nor his wife had much to sr.y to Prince Casino, but this was only because the crowd was so great and the clinking of forks and glasses so vehement ; otherwise, they were much im];ressed by his title. Mr. Dexter next cast his eyes about him for Grace Marvell, and descried her being ministered to by young men without number — a very court . Miss Marvell was beginning to cou([uer a position in society. Going every- where under Lady Pennywoddle's chaporonage, cr that of Lady Mayrose, she was accepted as a kind of adopted daughter of the Knight's. Her extraordinary beauty and exquisite manners caused her to be admired with more than rapture by one sex and cor'iially hated by the other ; but, then, the fact that she was the daughter of a man " under a cloud," and portionless, prevented the weightier among her adorers from evincing any serious intentions. Those who hinted to her of intentions were mainly detrimentals — Governmentfclerks, officers, young barristers; people who, having nothing, were prepared at a month's notice to share it with an expensive wife. Her tact was dfrected to keeping these aspirants at a proper distance without offending them , and, excepting Quilpin Leech, who miglit generally be seen in her train, none of her worshippers could have boasted that they had got far into her intimacy. 10 146 Mr. Dexter passed tranquilly through the detrimentals like a lion among pup- pies, and approaching Grace, said : " Miss Marvell, will you allow me to present to you the Prince of Casino ?" " I have much longed for this presentation. Miss MarreU," murmured the ItaUan, advancing and laying his crush hat on his heart. " I had the great happi- ness of one night seeing you at the Opera." '• You have an exceUent memory, I see," she answered, laughing, with a pretty acknowledgment of his salutation. "Ah, can one ever forget certain things! The man who has stared the sun he sees a luminous spot dance before his eyes." " But you didn't stare at me so much as that, I'm sure. I think I will take your arm to go back to the drawing-room." Mr. Dexter left them on this word, but the Prince stirred much bad blood among the detrimentals by remaining with Grace till the time of her departure. When Lady Pennywoddle's carriage was called, it was the Prince who escorted Grace to the cloak-room, wrapped her in her cloak and conducted her out. On the pavement he shook hands with flattered Sir Ham, and craved permission to call on him. CHAPTER VIII. HAKD KISSING AND STRATEGY. The next day Mayrose went down to Windsor with Sir Tito Tumb, Lord Tweedledee, Lord Beaujolais, and Mr. Paramount, and kissed hands on appoint- ment. They travelled from Paddington in a special train, and were received at the Windsor station by a couple of the claret-coloured Royal landaus, which conveyed them up Castle Hill, past St. George's Chapel and the residence of the milj^iary knights, and so to the grand quadrangle behind the Round Tower. They wero not in uniform, but in evening dress, with black breeches and stockings, Lords Tweedle- dee and Beaujolais wearing their ribands of the Thistle and St. Patrick respectively. Her Majesty gave them audience in the Council Chamber, having with her a Master of the Ceremonies, an Equerry, her Private Secretary, and a Clerk of the Coiincil, who took minutes of all the proceedings. The out-going Ministers had been hon- oured with an audience an hour before, and had surrendered their seals, which lay on the table contained in flat red morocco boxes ; the in-comers new advanced one by one, took the oaths of fealty, and dropped on one knee, kissing the air one-tenth of an inch above Her Majesty's hand. It was pleasant enough to watch the undis- turbed look which the Queen wore at this hour of a poUtical fix which would have kept any foreign Court in a state of wild agitation, and given rise to backstairs intrigues without number. Accustomed to see her faithful Ministers pelt each other with fragments of the Constitution, and take the name of the People in vain, she could afford to evince on this as on many a past occasion that demure composure which has made of her the wisest Sovereign who ever sat on the EngUsh throne. It is, indeed, no small proof of wit and wisdom for an experienced lady, who can see clearly through the motives of her precious advisers, to abstain from all inter- ference with their freaks ; only when Mr. Paramount or Mr. Paradyse has been explaining to Her Majesty how some new reform is absolutely necessary to promote the welfare of this realm by keeping themselves in office, the Queen probably con- soles herself by laughing in private. Nor is there any reason why she should not laugh, for when Paramountists and Paradyseists have laid low all those institutions which gave us a distinctive character among nations, then it may occur to some that the amiable Whigs — who stripped the Crown of all its controlling power, and handed over the Government to be snarled for between a few dozen of greedy and unscrupulous politicians — were less astute in their generation than has been sup- posed ; and on that day the sceptre may be used once more for the common good to keep Ministers within the proper functions which their title impUes — as servants of the Crown, not its masters. The hand-kissing being over, the new officials were admitted to the honour of 147 )0 some er, and dy and en sup- )n good ervants >nour of lunching with Her Majesty — a rather gloomy ceremony ; for, aa etiquette forbids any of &e guests to speak unless addressed, they sat there in moody silence, as if they were all sulky. The Queen, however, exchanged a gracious remark with each in turn — chiefly about those burning topics, Swiss scenery, and water-color paint- ing ; and at the moment of leave-taking she took occasion to congratulate Mayrose on his marriage, alluding kindly to Mary's presentation on the day previous, and hoping she would soon become better acquainted with her. The party were driven back to the station between two rows of a Windsor mob, of whom some yeUed, though the majority huzzaed and seemed disposed to wink at Mr. Paramount ; and on the station platform an enthusiastic crowd of Eton boys were assembled and set up a piercing cheer as the Ministers entered the train. These Etonians had come mainly to cheer Mayrose. He had not left Eton more than nine years, and there was still one boy in the school who had been in the lowest division, and at the same tutor's, when he went away, and who had now climbed to the sixth form. Tliis young gentleman, very dignified in his white necktie, lifted his hat and started the cheer ; and Lord Tweedledee, who had been at Eton too — as which of them has not ? — affably took all the homage to himself and bowed his acknow- ledgments out of the window. He was a veteran statesman, this Lord Tweedledee, who had frequently held office before, and had now been invited to hold it again, because it was feared he intended to make himself disagreeable, having expressed grave doubts as to whether he would follow Mr. Paramount in his " reckless adventure." All his doubts were allayed now that he was going to have £5,000 a year. On the night following this, Mr. Paradyse's Home Rule motion was introduced into the House of Commons. At the eleventh hour it was decided among the party whips that for strategical reasons they would only take the sense of the House on the question of granting Home Rule to the Isle of Wight ; which, being the smallest of the malcontent districts, naturally made most noise. Indeed, the one member for Cowes was aa good as a big party by himself, so indefatigable was he in obstructing business. He was continually ''spying" strangers in the House. Backed by relays of Irishmen and by the members for Margate and Ramsgate, who had commenced a Home Rule agitation for tiie Isle of Thanet, he lodged wayward motions, and divided the House on them. When Bills of public utility were being debated he rendered all progress impossible by moving first the adjourn- ment of the debate, then the adjournment of the House ; and when beaten in these motions, his friends took them up again by pairs, going at it hammer and tongs one after another till the Commons would slink off to bed in disgust. In fact, the member for Cowes was a striking pattern of what a politician should be who wants something that nobody else wants, and knows he shall get it by shouting. Mr. Paradyse therefore solemnly moved that England should go out of its way to please this honourable gentleman ; but Mr. Paramount, having also reconsidered his tactics, met the motion by a single negative, without intruding the question of Universal Suffrage. He required time to marshal his forces for the suffrage tussle, but reckoned, meanwhile, that he had majority enough to repel Home Rule if he confined the battle to that sole issue, aud he was right, for Mr. Paradyse was de- feated by some twenty votes. Before the debate Lord Albert Drone and Mr. Ster- ling had both risen below the gangway to give a feeling statement of their reasons for leaving the Ministry, and they had been loudly cheered by Lord Hornetto and some fifty other '* true-blues," as well as by the other lung-power of Mr. Paradyse's party. After the division, Mr. Paramount stood up, amidst a dead hush, and asked leave to bring in the Universal Suffrage Bill, and leave having been given, the House proceeded to advance some Gas Bills one stage, knowing that the great engagement would be postponed until the Suffrage Bill was read for the second time. Now from this date the Reporter increased the size of its pages, and de- voted three columns a day to politics in Mr. Paramount's interest. For the first time in British history parliamentary reports were printed, not according to the courteous formulae of dulness, but humorously and graphically as is the Parisian custom. Thus if an honourable member wore an absurd coat, or stuttered, and emptied the House by his dreary utterances, these circumstances were made care- 148 ful note of ; and the consequence was that some p;nashing of teeth ensued. The hon. gentlemen quizzed, attributing their discomfiture to Mayrose, whom they knew to be connected with the Reporter, set him down for one of the most un- blushing partizans that ever plied a cudgel over the heads of a patriotic Opposition. But whilst England was thus revelling in the throes of political entanglement, that happy Republic of Rio-Brigande, which had long been enjoying those demo- cratic institutions which the thoughtful men of our own isles were coveting — Rio- Brigande was about to see another revolution. Senor Descamisado had landed on his native shores, and forthwith telegraphed to Prince Casino that he saw his way to upsetting the Government, and wanted the preliminaries of the loan settled, so that the money might be forthcoming as soon as possible after his coup d'etat. Ac- cordingly, Prince Casino set out for the city to see Sir Ham Pennywoddle. He, too, was a strategist of the Paramount order, and had sagacity enough to perceive that the first proposals of the loan should not come to the Knight through a lady, lest the cautious financier should sniff" that circumvention was being attempted. He would begin by la) ing his request frankly before Sir Ham, and would hear a multitude of objections amounting to a polite refusal ; then he would ingratiate himself with Miss Marvell, and, through her, work daily and hourly on the Knight till the latter grew to think well of Rio-Brigande, then to descry profit in ihe op- portunity of assisting it, and finally to regret having refused the loan ; at which stage he would probably come and renew the negotiations of his own accord. Fi- nancial projects are generally based on straightforward calculations of this sort ; and Prince Casino was only acting as the best of the city folk, among whom his blue brougham was trundling, act every day in the matter of tens, hundreds, or thou- sands, accoi'ding to their powers. Revolving his plans methodically in the light brain that lay under his curly oiled hair, the Italian shot up Ludgate Hill at the busiest part of the day, reached Cornhill, and descended outside the offices of the Oyster-shell Utilisation Company, limited. They were gorgeous offices, occupying a whole palace with polished granite columns, and, as is usual with palaces in our country, this one was located in a dark street, between a pot-house and a mouldy brick building three stories high. The Prince was not to wait long in any ante-chamber. He was shown almost at once up a broad staircase with corrugated columns, and into the imposing chair- man's room, where Sir Ham had just been tackling a steak and a pint of Bordeaux, it being refresliinent hour. The good Knight felt hugely honoured by the Prince's visit ; and whilst a footman in a grey coat with silver buttons carried out the tray where the steak had been, he wheeled a capacious arm-chair near his desk, and asked whetlier a glass of port or sherry would be acceptable. But the Prince dis- liked these fiery drinks, and indeed all drinks but coffee or water when not obliged to swallow them to keep others in countenance, so he came at once and in the most smiling way possible to business. But hereon he saw the Knight promptly close up like one of the oysters out of whose outer coating this joint-stock company drew such a fine revenue. All he had heard from Mr. Dexter about Sir Ham's not being a simple man became intel- ligible at the sight of the financier's chubby lips suddenly puckering up at the corners, and his small eyes peering stolidly and mistrustfully at his interlocutor. Clearly this was not a man who had amassed his fortune by lending millions to other people ; it looked dubious whether he would lend sixpence. Sir Ham let the Prince nni out to his full tether of explanations, and only answered when he came to a full stop. Then he replied, unentluisiastically : "I doan't deal in loans, your Highness." Sir Ham said "your Highness " becouse he thought everj' Prince was a Higliness, just as every Duke was a Grace, from whatever country he came. '' No, I am aware you do not, dear Sir Ham ; but to everything there is a be- ginning. You are the Great Pennywoddle, whose name rings in the ears of all nations who love money — and they are numerous. The day must come when you will not bo satisfied with the profits of your admirable joint stock company, but will wish to become another Rothschild — a mighty banker, a Providence to fruitful states like Rio-Brigande." 149 Sir Ham had never heard himself called the Great Penny woddle by any Prince before. " Where might this fruitful state be, your Highness ? " he enquired, redden- ing, for his knowledge of geography was confined strictly to those coasts where oysters are to be fished. " It is in South America, and produces the coffee which you drink, and the sugar which you put into the coflTee. It might also grow the cotton gown which your housemaid wears, if generously encouraged ; and ten per cent. , with customs' and tobacco monopoly, are the terms which Senor Descamisado offers." " I am sorry to say that I have a world of business on my hands, sitting in Parliament, and lookin' after my oyster-shells," said Sir Ham, groping about for some civil term of refusal. "Ah ! those oyster-shells, yes? You will be illustrious, dear Sir Penny wod- dle, in connectien with those shells, which you have utilised ; h\n hark to me, for apropos of that I have a friend who has made the oyster his study. The pearl, you know, is a disease of the oyster, just as the wart or the boil is with you and me. Well, my friend, he says, ' Why not analyse the pearl, reduce it to liquor, and in- oculate healthy oysters with it, so that they may all catch the pearl disease, then you keep the secret, sell your oyster warts tranquilly, and make millions.' That's what he says." " God bless my soul !" wheezed Sir Ham. '* Yes ; and when my friend has made his experiments — and he will succeed, for he is a great man— then we will come to you for capital, and establish a part- nership that will make you the richest financier in the world. But for the present, what do you say to the loan ?" " I'll make enquiries, your Highness, just to see," stuttered Sir Ham, slipping back into prudence, for his eyes had kindled at the pearl idea, which he thought eminently feasible. "Well, I will give you time to think ; for the circumspection of the British financier is what all the universe admires," said the Prince, rising and stretching out a hand covered with flesh-coloured kid. " I— I hope youf Higness woan't be offended if this 'ere loan comes to nought," observed Sir Ham, pressing the hand reverently. He had it on his lips to ask more particulars about the inoculation of healthy oysters, but feared to take the liberty. " Offended, dear Sir Penny woddle ! how can you talk so ?" laughed the Prince, with supreme courtesy. ' ' I proposed to myself to go this afternoon and visit the amiable Milady Pennywoddle and your charming Meess Marvell. Pray — do not accompany me to the door — I beg of you " But Sir Ham did accompany him right down into the street, saw him into the brougham, and " Your Highnessed" him so that the footman in the grey coat might hear. He was evidently much prepossessed in the Prince's favour, however dubious he might be of Rio-Brigande. So the Italian had compassed all that, for the present, he desired. He drove to the Brummel and lunched with a pair of non-political Peers ; then set out for Kensington . Now, as he was rolling on his way towards Grace Marvell, that yoimg lady was sitting in conversation with her rejected but not yet disheartened suitor, Quilpin Leech. CHAPTER IX. QBACE MAKVELL's SUITORS. Mr. Leech stood beside Grace Marvell, who was in Sir Ham's drawing-room, putting roses and white pinks into a table-vase. He handed up the flowers to her one by one as they were requu'ed, and when the stalks were too long, obediently cut them at her bidding with a pair of small scissors, gold-handled. Doing all this, he murmured ruefully. " I wish you could be persuaded to listen to me. Miss Marvell." " I am listening to you, Mr. Leech." 160 " But not in the way I mean. I tell you that my salary is increased, because Lord Mayrose has been promoted, and also that a good permanent appointiinent has been promised me as soon as I like to have it, and you seem indifferent." " I am very glad for your sake. If I were Lord Mayrose I would give you the best appointment at my disposal." " I don't want any appointment unless it helps me to win you. I have money enough as it is ; and do you know it seems to me that a thousand a year would not be so very little for us to begin with." "Anything less than ten thousand a year is poverty in England. But if you had twice that I would not marry you, Mr. Leech, because I like you too well. Give me some of those leaves, please." He cast a glance of reproach at her, and she gaily laughed at him, holding out her hand for the leaves. More than a year and a half had elapsed since he had first sought her hand, but her refusal had not disheartened him, and he had frequently come back to his wooing with hints and sighs. At balls, parties, the opera, and at all such daytime exhibitions as he found leisure to attend, he was continually in her train ; and seeing that he was not a man to be shaken off, she had grown to utilise him, good-naturedly, for purposes of shopping or errand-running. He was, more- over, of help to her in looking after the comforts of her father, who had been placed at Sir Ham's expense in a private asylum. Quilpin Leech had objected to the old man's confinement, but the thing had become inevitable owing to Mr. MarveU having talked of pistols as the possibly final remedy for his " grievance." He was shut up a couple of days after he had declared that since laws and Ministers were not strong enough to get the better of Mr. Keane-Midge, a bullet fired publicly in Whitehall might arrange the matter ; and QuUpin Leech was now in the habit of visiting him ouce a week, with supphes of fruit, books, and cigars. Therefore he was a serviceable ally to Grace ; but yet she laughed at him, and he could not help thinking her cruelly beautiful in her mockery. She was dressed in a Ught summer gown, of some buff hue, with velvet bracelets on her wrists ; a velvet band with a large gold medallion round her throat, and a pearl in each of her ears. A June breeze, which came through the window heavily laden with the scent of mignonette from the balcony, faintly stirred a lock of her chestnut hair ; and her lithe hands bent the stalks of the flowers with a deUcate tenderness, as if they were living things which she loved. " Yes," she repeated, merrily, " I like you too well to encumber you with such a troublesome present as myself." " What derision that is !" he murmured. " Do you mean to say you would never marry a man whom you loved I" " I did not say loved," replied she, in a lower tone. " I meant that I was too much your friend to wish to make you unhappy. Were you ever so rich, I should be teasing you to do things not to your taste. I might try to render you ambitious ; and, as you are not a weak man, you would only humour me up to a certain point ; then we should quarrel." " We should never quarrel, for I'd be as ambitious as you pleased." " But not in the way I pleased —I think I want a rose here — You see a man can't alter his nature, and I will only marry a person who can obey me blindly, or who can make me blindly obey him. You are too intelligent and good for either of those parts." " I never heard anybody speak so coldbloodedly as you do." * * Well, if every girl talked with the same frankness, a great many wretched marriages wotild be prevented. But now this is enough on that subject. I suppose you think, Mi. Leech, that a lady's ' No' is never irrevocable ; but it is in this case. So I want you to dismiss all ideas of my ever being your wife, and never — never to allude to such a thing. If you desire us to live on good terms, you must be content with such friendship as I offer, and do everything I tell you.'* " You know I would jump off the roof of a house if you ordered me." *' Can you imagine me ordering you to jump off the roof of a house ?" she laughed. " Try to be cheerful and friendly, that is all I ask. You are lively enough with others, it seems, for I hear of you playing practiosl Jubes with the 161 clerks in your office. There was a poor copyist whom you told to write that an edipse of the sun was going to be put off because of the Queen's birthday. misery," replied Quilpin Leech, "A man must do something to relieve his crumpling a rose, with dismal philosophy. " Yes, but you ought not to be miserable. And then I must ask you not to scowl at everybody who comes near me, as if you had a right to interfere with my actions. At Lady Mayrose's party the other night you were quite rude to a gentle- man who was introduced to me " " An Italian, with a head like a puppy's, by Jove !" moaned Quilpin Leech, in disgust. " The fellow hadn't been near you five minutes before he began whisper- ing in your ear." It was at this moment that the Italian with a head like a puppy drove up to Sir Ham's door, and his card, brought in to Grace, evoked an audible ''Talk of the devil" from the wretched clerk. " I am not going to stay here and see that man simper foreign compliments to you," added he, catching up his hat and faithful death's-head umbrella ; and so went, crossing the Italian, who danced over the threshold with smiles quite un-English and tongue all awag. " I am sorry to say Lady Penny woddle has been unwell this morning," said Grace, replying to the Italian's glib enquiry about Milady ; ** but she would cer- tainly not miss the pleasure of seeing you." And she ordered the servant to apprise her ladyship of the Prince's visit. '^Mon Dieu, Miss Marvell, I would not disturb Milady," said Prince Casino, settling down into a frail French lounging chair, and ogling Grace, who seated her- self opposite him on the other side of the cbimney-piece. " Do you know I have thought about you without cease ever since that happy evening when I talked with you half an hour." " You must have very little to occupy you, then," answered she, with a slight blush. " But here comes Lady Penny woddle." Lady Pennywoddle, in effect, flowed in and the Prince rose to salute her. " It is with the profoundest grief I have just heard that your ladyship was in- disposed," he said, with a charming curvet. " I am much obliged to your Royal Highness," panted the good lady. " It's these 'ere summer heats, sir, that never agreed wi' me. I ain't no longer young, like my dear Grace here." " Miss Marvell is as one of the flowers gathered from that delicious bouquet on your table. The rose and she are sisters," smiled the Prince. '* Sir Ham will be very sorry he was not at home when you called," remarked the young lady complimented. " No, Miss Marvell, he will not have sorrow, for I saw him this morning. I went down to your remarkable city to seek him on business." And sinking into the easiest and most graceful of postures in his lounging chair, the Prince pro- ceeded to recount what his business had been. It was like listening to a chapter of some perfectly- written novel. Accustomed to the reserve of English visitors, who are a shy race, prone to weather comments and feeble remarks about new books or operas. Lady Pennywoddle and Grace could not but be subjugated by the facile talk of a man who had no more shyness in him than a barrel-organ. He set himself to kindle their interest in the Republic of Rio-Brigande, and began, like a true artist, by painting it in its showiest colours — displaying it such as it might be, but had never been. He talked of its glorious climate ; its noble forests, filled with birds of varied plumage, blue, orange, and scarlet ; its majestic rivers, over whose limpid waters the fairy sunsets cast huge sheets of crimson glow, like fire. Then the haciendus, with their gay verandahs and surrounding plantations of fragrant coffee and waving sugar-canes ; the courtly planters, with rifles at their backs, wearing cashmere cloaks and snowy panawMs, and bestriding glossy steeds fleet as the wind. Then again the smiling cities with their houses of marble ; their loggie, with awnings of pink and white ; their patios, where cool fountains flash all day in basins of porphyry. Rio-Brigande was an earthly paradise thus limned ; and when it was evident to the narrator that he had 152 brought the ladies to this opinion of it, he performed the operation familiar in dis- solving views of casting a sudden blackness of storm over the landscape. Ele pictured this garden of Eden laid waste by the troubles of its fifty-one revo- lutions and its three repudiations of national debt. The marble houses had bullet marks on their facades ; the planters used their rifles to slay each other, instead of those birds with the blue and orange plumage ; the plantations yielded no sugar, and cofifee was dearer there than here. All this was like the land of Moab after the deluge. But, lo t a great man with a religious soul and a patriotic heart had arisen — Descamisado, who meant to quell the voice of faction, stay the bullets, set the fountains plashing again in the patios, and scatter plenty once more over the land of milk and honey. Here a sketch of Descamisado (in the flesh he was five foot high, and had a face like a sour monkey's) — a dreamy, inspired young man, with soft eyes that glared indignation on the wicked and inexpressible tenderness on women and children, and on all the weak. Descamisado was the idol of his mother. He read his Bible; his moustaches were black, and his hands small and white ; he could snap a bar of iron over his knee ; he despised gold, but he wanted five mil- lions to lead back his misguided countrymen into the paths of peace and sugar- making. At this stage it was evident that if the ladies had had five millions in their purses they would have subscribed them instantly for the regeneration of Rio- Brigande, and, further, they were evidently persuaded that the man who having five millions should decline contributing them to an object so pious was quite blind to the true uses of money. Then Prince Casino remarked, sweetly, that Sir Ham Pennywoddle was the man. •' You do not mean to say that Sir Ham has refused to help Senor Des — Des- camisado ?" inquired Grace, with au auimated flush on each of her cheeks. " Yes, and he is quite right," answered the Prince, with angelic indulgence. ** This is an affair for an ambitious man to undertake. The loan would make him almost master of the Rio-Brigande. It would put the customs in his hands, and the tobacco monopoly, and also yield him millions. Out there, such a power would make him half a god ; here in England, so much influence over a foreign State would cause him to be created a Peer. But Sir Ham he is not an ambitious man ; he is content with the honourable position he now has; and, mon Dieu, he is wise !" Grace bit her lips. " Perhaps Sir Ham declined on account of the risks. Not being a banker, he may be unused to loans." '• Dio bono ! but there are no risks, Signoriua. Everything is guar^inteed ; and then Monsieur Pennywoddle need not hazard one sixpence of his own money. He floats the loan, and the public they fight at the door to buy scrip ; then the shares they go up to a premium, and Sir Ham pockets the profit. That is how it is done." " Deary me, your Royal Higness, Sir Ham ain't never been accustomed to those great things," sighed Lady Pennywoddle, not without regret, for the story of Senor Descamisado who read his Bible and was a pride to his mother, had touched tender strings in her heart. " Show my Ham the way to do a good turn to a soul without losing anything, sir, and I think he'll be willin', for I know 'im." " The Chevalier Ham is a pearl among men, Milady," replied the Italian, enthusiastically; " and that is why I went to him in preference to others. I said to myself * E Dio ! who is worthier to regenerate a fallen country than a man who, by labour and honesty, has brought himself so high ?' But Sir Ham has a soul above ambition, Heaven be praised ! And so I must go to others, for there are plenty in the city who will sink to the floor on their knees, crying, ' Give me this loanl' " •' Oh, but Sir Ham cannot let such an opportunity pass by," ejaculated Grace, in agitation. *' The chance of acquiring " — she checked herself, and added — " the chance of doing so much good and of benefiting a beautiful country ought to move any man." "Ah! thank you for that word," exclaimed the Itahan. standing up, and ex- tending one of his gloved hands. " Dear young lady, if you had Uved in my coun- try in the time of her enslavement, the people would have gathered round you to ask you to sing them the Marseillaise. You remind me of La Belle Paule, who was so lovely that the people of Toulouse obliged her husband to lead her out for a walk 168 two hours in each week, in order that the populations might rejoice in her beauty. But see I you have roses on that table. Give me one that I may despatch it to Descamisado, and say that the fairest of England's daughters sent it him with her wish of God-speed. It will nerve him more than money I" He stood holding out his hand, and such is the facility with which these Southerners play a part when they throw their hearts into it, that he called up a pair of ready tears into his eyes. Much stirred by this scene of romance — so new, so congenial to her spirit — Grace reddened, caught up a rose and gave it to the Prince. He stuck it with a proud look in his button-hole, raised the giver's trem- bling fingers to his lips ; then made a low bow to wondering Lady Penny woddle, and vanished — satisfied, may be, that he had well employed his afternoon. CHAPTEK X. SIR HAM BAITED. talian, said who, soul > are I this Grace went to the window and watched the Prince's retreating brougham till it became a speck. He had said very little to her, but his eyes had been eloquent, and the concluding incident of the rose had filled her with a sensation which no man before had ever instilled into her breast. " It is probably his manner with all girls," she reflected, remembering how every one ©f his phrases had been accentuated with an appealing glance from his dark eyes, but she could not suppose that his dark eyes glistened with tears in speaking to eveiy girl, nor that he com- pared them all to La Belle Paule. This brought hor to think of his being a Prince, and she presumed that he must be rich, for she too had her illusions about Princes. His dress and manner, the appointments of his brougham, his mode of living and enjoying himself, gave him an air of being wondrous wealthy, and here she was led to the idea of that large loan for Rio-Brigande. She retired from the window, brooding over Sir Ham's refusal to take any part in this State transaction, and conning over the things which she meant to say about it. For certainly she had no intention of 1' tting the matter rest here. When at his interview with Mr. Dexter, Prince Casino had jumped to the conclusion that Grace Marvell had formed her plans for succeeding Lady Penny- woddle, he had supposed her to be more designing than she actually was. Lady Pennyw oddle's health was not siich as would warrant any calculations as to the period of her demise ; and Grace had no tragical purpose of hastening her exit from this life. But there was no doubt that in course of a year Grace had acquired a complete ascendancy over the Pennywoddle couple, and more particularly over Sir Ham, whose sentiments towards her, at first fatherly, had gradually ripened into something else, both indefinable and curious. He did nothing without con- sulting her. He hungered for her praise like a carp for bread-crumbs. He had changed his nature under her influence, and had grown to think himself young again. Kindness, a never wearied attention to his wants, words and smiles always ready to stimulate his vanity, and to reward him for displaying it, these were the arts which she had used to secure the mastery which her beauty had given her ; and it was positive that if ever she encouraged Sir Ham to analyse his sentiments he would declare that what he felt for her was love, and would throw himself at her feet with half his fortune, after the wont of enamoured old men. She never encouraged him, but was satisfied with the consciousness of a power which she could use to obtain from him any pecuniary assistance she pleased on tlie day when it should suit her purpose. Meanwhile, ostensibly but a companion to Lady Pen- nywoddle, she reaUy ruled the Knight's household, excepting, of course, in the kitchen regions, which were still her ladyship's favorite groves. She ordered everything, saw to everything, and Sir Ham accounted her as a daughter, keeping her bountifully supplied with costly dresses and trinkets, besides giving her gener- ous sums of pocket-money under pretence of paying her the interest of a small amount which had been raised by selling Mr. Marvell's bric-a-brac after his removal to the lunatic asylum. Sir Ham alleged that he had invested this trifle in oyster- 164 shell shares, and that it bore fruit a hundredfold. There is a great deal of delicate chivalry in the behaviour of amorous city men. So, driving with Lady Pennywoddle in the park that afternoon, Grace medi- tated how she could exert her power over Sir Ham to waken his interest in Rio- Brigande ; and when the Knight returned home shortly before dinner, she had collected a fine quiverful of arguments to conquer him. Gratitude towards Prince Casino swayed her somewhat in this matter, for the Italian was the first man of distinguished rank who had joined her court of detrimentals, and she burned to show him what skill she could evince in high negotiations. Furthermore, accepting the Prince's phantasmagoric account of Rio-Bngande as being all true, she verily believed that this opportunity was one which Sir Ham ought not to throw away. "Why should she, of all women, have mistrusted the recuperative genius of Senor Descamisado, whose ambition to domineer over his fellows realised her ideal of what every spirited man's passion should bo ? " "Well, did yer have a pleasant drive, my dear?" inquired Sir Ham, dming the quarter of an hour in which they were alone before dinner. Grace was going to the opera with Lady Pennywoddle iu the evening, but she had contrived to be home early and to finish her dressing soon, so that she might have an interview with the Knight. " Yes, thank you," she said, taking her seat on a sofa, which her brilliant skirt almost covered in its length and breadth. " We saw Mary with Lady Beau- jolais in her carriage. They seemed to be the best of friends, and everybody was bowing to them as two mighty people." Sir Ham coughed. He had deferred telling Grace of his failure to obtain Cabi- net office or Peerage for himself ; he had even feigned that the Prime Minister was " thinkin' over " the matter. The allusion to Mary's mightiness suggested to him that now was perhaps the time to avow that the " thinking " had come to nothing, and so get a weight off his mind. " My dear, I'm afraid it won't do to set your mind on my being a Minister or a lord," he began timidly. " Mayrose tells me there's objections to it." " I wonder Lord Mayrose should say that," she answered gently. " "What objections can there be to your holding any post which is within his reach ? He owes something to his birth, a great deal to bis wife's money ; you owe everything to your talents. I suppose it is my being a woman which makes me think you the greater man of the two." " Well, my dear, but he's a smart chap," rejoined the Knight, flattered, never- theless, as he always was by such homage. " He has a power o' learning' and pluck in him." ** But so have you plenty of courage, it seems to me ; and if it is influence that fails you, why not acquire influence ? Prince Casino called this afternoon and talked to us of a loan that might be very profitable to you — and for a lovely country too." " Ay, my dear, for a country where Providence has given 'em everything ex- cept the ability to govern themselves and pay their debts," answered Sir Ham, with a flash of City shrewdness : " but I'm glad the Prince called, for he's a perlite young man." " And I'm sure it would have interested you to hear him tell us about that un- happy coimtry which is perishing for want of a little money," rejoined Grace. " His whole soul appeared to be in it. Snch glowing descriptions, such contrasts of beauty and misei-y you never heard ; and then the Senor Descamisado is evidently a great and noble man." " A fin*rineer, whose name ain't ever been quoted in the city, my dear, re- sponded the Knight, suspiciously. " You see all that one can tell of furrineers is that often th ey're apt to come up and go like mushrooms, leaving a lot of bills un- paid." "Do mushrooms leave their bills unpaid?" she laughed. " Of course, you know better than I : but Prince Casino says this loan would give you immense in- fluence in Europe. He hinted at stars and titles, and I inferred that you would 155 have no risk to run, for yon would only — 'float the loan' I think was his term, and the public would quickly buy the scrip. " But they mightn t buy it, and where should I be then ? I questioned a few long-headed friends o' mine after I'd seen the Prince, and they advised me to have nothing to do with a country which has borrowed three loans already and never paid one. That's what they said, my dear." " Oh, if you are going to be deterred by every counsellor who tries to frighten you, I have nothing more to say," answered' Grace, with one of the arch smiles and pretty looks with which she could have driven Sir Ham straight to the cannon's mouth. " As to those gentlemen in the city," added she, with quiet irony, "I be- lieve a great many of them are jealous. They would like to get the loan them- selves. Depend on it that is their object, Sir Ham." ** But, Grace, I ain't ever mixed in loans," protested the Knight, wretchedly, like one who feels ground slipping under him ; " I ain't a banker, either, and I'm old to begin such work." ** You look younger and younger e%ery day," she answered, surveying him as if with affectionate admiration. "Well, my dear, I'll go and see some of the regular bankers to-morrow," he replied, glancing with satisfaction at his dyed poll and diminishing waist in the glass. " Maybe, Geltrubber will be able to tell me summut more about Rio-Bri- gande. But now, 'ore's dinner." Dinner was announced, but if Sir Ham thought that he should be able to es- cape from Rio-Brigande under cover of it, he was mistaken. From soup to des- sert Grace harped skilfully on that theme, and this time she had an ally in Lady Pennywoddle, whose regard for the religious young Mr. Descamisado, who read his Bible, cast a halo of purity over the whole land which her husband eyed so askance. Sir Ham, perceiving that he was somehow ensnared into doing a thing against which his whole commercial sense rebelled, lost much of his appetite, and began to defend himself like a man frightened. He explained what was the value of five millions — namely, £250,000 a year at five per cent., he conjured up all the perils of loans, the miseries of unbought scrip, unpaid coupons, solemn votes of repudi- ation, and he ended by throwing himself into a serious panic by the last picture which his fancy aroused of himself passing an examination before the Chief Bank- ruptcy Judge in Basinghall street. But what could all this avail against the in- credulous rejoinders and the light raillery of Graoa ? Lady Pennywoddle early de- serted the Rio-Brigande camp, feeling that no Republic or biblical young man in the world ought to make her Ham lose his appetite for his salmon ; but Grace re- mained staunch. At dessert, when the servants were out of the room, and Sir Ham was partially silenced by reason of strawberries in his mouth, she recapitu- lated all the arguments he had used, and smilingly demolished them as tokens of pusillanimity. Never had Sir Ham known her more full of banter, and never had her bewitching face seemed more affectionately to upbraid him for not being equal to the high estimate she had formed of his valour. In the end the Knight did as better men have done before or since when subjected to a too hot fire, and capitu- lated. He repeated his promise that he . -ould consult the banker Geltrubber on the morrow, and that if the thing seemed morally feasible he wo\ild do it. "But you wouldn't have me act rashly and be ruined, Grace, my dear ?" " No, indeed," and in this she was sincere, for she had no wish to see him ruined ; " but I hope it will be a means of doubling your fortune instead of making you lose anything." " Well, the Lord hear you, my dear," said the Knight piously, and for a third or fourth time he renewed his promise, as he helped Grace to put on her opera cloak, and handed her and his wife into the carriage for Covent Garden. Then he returned with waddling steps into the house, took a new survey of himself in the glass, to see whether artificial methods were truly obliterating in him the marks of time, and ejaculated, under his breath, "She's a bootiful girl, and would make me go through a needle's eye, dang me ! Why shouldn't I take to this loan if it pleases her? It might do me good, as she says. Anyhow, when I've 156 seen Oeltrubber. I'll aound Mayrose about it. He'll know more of furrin' parts now than all of 'em." After which Sir Ham locked the door, removed his dreaacoat and waifitcoat, loosed his cravat, and for the space of ti.-: minutes began to Hpar with exoeedinK puKnaoity against the ether Pennywoddlo in the mirror. This was onu of the delightful evening pastimes recommended to him in his pamphlet on fatness. CHAPTER XI. SIR HAM IN THE TOILS. Prince Casino had the sense to keep out of Grace Marvell's way, both that evening at the Opera, where she perceived him in the stalls from her box, and for several days afterwards, in order to prove that he was nowise anxious about the loan. In the meantime Grace wrotight upon Sir Ham, with a woman's patient wit and cajolery, day by day, till all the steady principles of business which had made of him a successful man grew addled in his pate. The J)ankers to whom he applied gave him the poorest account of the Rio-Brigande, and tlio groat Baron Guldenstock especially, who was always civil to city men connected with Peers and Ministers, went obligingly into figures, and demonstrated that Rio-Brigande might be expected to pay its debts on the day when thistle pUnts bore pine-apples — a miracle of which there was no sign just then. And yet Grace persuaded Sir Ham that all these bankers— that Baron Guldenstock, whose name was as Urim and Thummim in Lombard-street — were merely pnttint^ him out of conceit with the loan for the purpose of getting it into their own hands. The truth is, when he found her standing of a morning in her fresh corn-linen dress, and and making his tea for him at the breakfast table, he would have believed any monstrous thing she chose to aver. They generally breakfasted alone together, for Lady Penny woddle had of late fallen into the habit of taking her tea in her own room ; and Sir Ham, as he nibbled his rusks and stirred his beverage, which had no cream or sugar in it, was all at the mercy of the girl who could make him glow from head to foot with a smile, or plunge him into depths of misery by a pout. He would tell her what business he had transacted the day before and what he intended to do that day, and it was then that her artifices were plied to make light of Baron Guldenstock and sport of all the other bankers. At half-past nine she brought Sir Ham his hat, gloves, and umbrella; and he would kiss her before starting for the City. He had first begun to kiss her when she had come into his house as his daughter's friend — a morning and evening kias being given to her then because tliey were given to Mary, and because it was kindly wished to make the motherless girl feel that she had a home. But they were not such innocent kisses now. Ev»^ry time the poor Knight's lips touched Grace's damask cheek his blood tingled in his veins ; and he would go his way, blessing himself that those rusks were making liim thinner, and with his brain all seething under his crop of muddy-coloured hair, the effect of dye. So hour by hour passed in excited thoughts, rendered still more wild by the political agitation, which was filling London with hot air, and causing even more prudent men than Sir Ham to lose some of their business coolness. But after few days, just when Sir Ham had heard so much against Rio-Bngande that he wa getting to disbelieve the whole of it, Grace began to grow uneasy at hearing noth ing more from the Prince. She x-epeatedly saw him at the Opera and other places, but always at a distance ; and he was invariably disporting himself amidst a circle of line ladies, who appeared to make a choice pet of him. Grace became aware of a pang at the heart which smote her whenever she saw him thus enjoying himself in women's society. It could not be love ; she would not have owned to such a sentiment for a person of whom she had seen so little— she whose' heart had never yet warmed to any man. And yet he was very handsome, with his bright foreign face ; and there was a great magic in his novel, unembarrassed manner, and yet greater magic in his high-sounding title. She asked herself with bitterness whether he could be like the countless other distinguished persons who had given a light glance and a compliment to her beauty in passing, but had sheered off on learning 157 that she was the daughter of a disreputable man with a (grievance. Her oheek» flamed at this fear, for several days she was tormented and restless under it, till lit last further suspense became intolerable. Every other morning or so the papers had been printing telegaams from New York stating that a new rovolutird Humette ought to bo accumplitthod. It provok- ed her to see her sister fret and pine away ; and slie hoped that by demonBtating Mayroao to bo a mean, dishonourable man, she might succeed at length in destroy ing her aister^s tenacious attachment for him— only she did all this too wildly for Lady Ro&emary had laid down her work, and sat with astonished eves listen- ing to her younger daughter ; but at Violet's lirst pause, she said, gravely : — "My dear child, I wish you would collect yourself. I do not understand a word you have been saying." " Why, mamma, it'u plain enough. He wants to foist an improper woman upon Bocioty — at leant, no, he's in a loan, and they Ibbuo shares, and then he'll run away, and it will all be put in the papers. That is how they manage it." " I can make no souse at all out of such a statement, Violet." " But, mamma, Lady Canonlaugh and Lady Coralmero were both saying that the honour of England would be compromised. Lady Beaujolais was sure of her facts, and nobody ever heard before of a minister trying to swindle the public." "Nor will anybody now, you may be sure," replied Lady Rosemary. ZeUie had propped herself on one elbow to hoar. " No, mamma ; it's a wicked untruth I" she exclaimed, with a blanched face, and her whole frame quivering. " I do not know why you come and say these things, Violet ; but you miss no chance of doing what you know will vex and annoy us. I wish you would stay away and never come near mo." " But it's no untruth, Zellio ; and you are quite unreaRonable," retorted Violet, with irritation. " I think it }s time you should know the truth about certain people who palm themselves off for saints." " Hush, Violet, you see you are only paining your sister," remonstrated Lady Rosemary, and, having stooped to soothe Zellie, who had fallen back exhausted on Her pillow after her outburst, she withdrew, and beckoned Violet to follow her. They remained an hour together, but Violet must have contrived to make her meaning clearer in private coUoquy than she had done before, for when she loft the house the Countess, who had now become very serious and agitated, sat down to write a note, which was soon after carried to Berkeley-square. That is why, when Mayrose returned home to dinner that evening, he found a letter begging him in the most pressing way to call at Rosemary House at 10 o'clock. The Countess promised that she would be waiting alone to see him. Now, Mayrose had not crossed the tlireshold of Rosemary House since the morning when the report of his marriage with Zellie had been publicly contradicted. CHAPTER XIV. ZELLIES DREAM. He went, however, and without telling his wife where he was going. At dinner Mary had recounted to him her faihu'e to check her lather in his loan enterprise ; and this, added to the worries of a day's hard labour, had put him out of spirits, lor he attached little importance to Mary's rather excited assurances that she was not going to let herself be baffled by her first attempts. He thought her weak and not over shrewd, and woiald have been strengthened in this impression had she informed him that she had taken Lady Beaujolais into her confidence. But this she wisely avoided doing. Her reticence, however, prevented him from guessing why Lady Rosemary wanted to .ee him so urgently. He thought over every reason but the right one as he was being driven to the house where he knew ZeUie was ; and when the Countess came forward and pressed his hands, exclaiming, " My dear Freddy, I should have had no- -"cace if you had not come !" he was at a loss to comprehend what was the ma gave her instant comfort ; and of course things Mayrose told her he had only heard of the loan I'-n much uneasiness, though he was powerless to ^ously . He had relied on Mary to remonstrate, She noticed his surprise, w were soon placed in their true hg. the day before, and that it had giv prevent his father-in-law acting u.. 172 but she had failed. As to the recognition c^ Rio-Brigande, so far from favouring Buch a course, he had warned Lord Lobby that day that pressure might be put upon him by Sir Ham , and he had begged the Earl on no account to be influenced by Sir Ham's relationship towards him (Mayrose), for th-vt he should himself vote against the recognition of Rio-Brigande if the absurd question were ever brought before the Cabinet. Wlien Mayrose heard that Society was already busy attribut- ing to him him complicity in the loan, he did not redden or grow angry, for the newspaper abuse Ipvished upou him since he had become a Minister had rendered bim callous to slanders — even as Mithndates grew callous to pn^-^ •->. by ta8^ing daily thereof. He only shrugged his shoulders. When, however, he ascertained that the mmour had arisen through Mary having called on Lady Beaujolais, aad pre- sumably misexplained everj'thing io her, he made a resigned gesture, and said, " Poor Mary ! she means well, but will do me a grf-at deal of harm before she has done. I suppose you hoard that she mortally offended Lady Canonlaugh the ether night. Men are laughing about it in the clubs, but I cannot reproach her for it." *' Yet she is your wife, and you should give her advice," said Lady Rosemary, af ectionately. " No man is more capable of moulding a loving woman's character than you." " I cannot play the part of Mentor, dear Lady Rosemary," said Mayrose, mechuaically taking up a book and turning over the leaves. " Our characters are so disbLmilar, that if once I began to find fault, I might say more than she would understand and wound her." " There are ways of finding fault. Mary is veiy young and her devotion to you would maVi her take a pleasure in following your counsels." " I doubt if we ever take a pleasure in being warned of our defects — though, after all, these are no defects which consist only in too great truthfulness," sighed Mayrose. " Besides, I owe ray present position t'- Mary, and if she damages it I shall still be her debtor. A man who has married for money must not crow too much like a master in his own house." This was so bitterly said, and the remark was so singular, that Lady Rosemary glanced with anxiety at Mayrose. He laid down his book, and stood up to lean against the mantleshelf, but the Countess held out a hand to him, and Ke took a seat by her side. "What is it, my dear Frederick — are you not happy?" she inquired with motherly concern ; and he did not immediately answer. But while this scene was being enacted, a silent witness of it had crept into the adjoining room, and was listening to every word of Mayrose's with bated breath. When Lady Rosemary had come into the small drawing-room to meet May- rose, she had left Zellie dozing on the sofa in her boudoir, for Zellie was not well enough to go out to evening parties. Towards half-past ten, however, Zellie awoke, and feeling disinclined to sleep again, rose to fetch a book which she thought lay on the table. But jhe book was not there, so Zellie passed into the next room, foimd the volume, and was returning with it, when she was stopped by hearing the murmur of voices. She approached the door whence the sounds came, thinking that her father and mother were alone together. But with her fingers on the handle she paused, and all the blood receded from her face, for she had recog- nized the voice as Mayrose's. She had not seer him once since his marriage, and had f,oldom heard his name pronounced, for Lar!_y Rosemary refrained from alluding to him in her presence. She knew that he had become a Minister, and in the Mornitig Pod, which her maid brought her in bed every morning, contrary to orders, she frequently read his name, and sometimes short speeches of his, over which she would pore for hoiiitj. She had also sent her maid in secret to buy one of his photographs, pro- curable with those of other prominent public men at all the shops, and that oblig- ing domestic had complied by purchasing her a whole assortment of vignettes and full length cartes de visite. But most of these had been taken more than a year ago, and they showed Mayrose. such as he was after he had returned fiom hia travels. A yearning desire now seized Zellie to gaze without being seen at the man whose image was present in her mind day and night — the man whose remem- 178 en at the remem- brance she had striven to put away, sinking under the effort into an iUneas which had brought her to death's door. During a minute she battled against the desire^ but it was irresistible, and with beating heart and kindling eyes she stole from the room, ^jjlided down a broad passage which ran the length of the first floor, and with noiseless steps reached the door of the room next that where her mother and Mayrose were. This room was one of a suite which were lighted up every evening whether company was expected or not. The folding-doors, by which the rooms communi- cated with each other, were left wide open ; and, as the entrances from the pas- sage were in the corners nearest to these folding-doors, and at right angles with them, anyone who entered cautiously could stand behind the folding-doors, as behind a screen, and see into the next room unobserved. Zellie did this, glancing fearfully on the right and left of hei to watch if any tell-tale mirror would reflect her form, and when she saw that there was no danger of this, she advanced on tip-toe, blushing and paling turn by turn at what she was doing, and looked. The Countess and Mayrose were seated close together. The room was furnished in Japanese stjle — that is, on walls painted white were stretched pieces of silk with Japanese figures, between frames of gilt bamboo ; quaint potteries, blue and red, ornamented the mantleshelf and tables ; the andirons in the fireplace were supported by huge brass toads, and a square Japanese lantern hung from the ceiling, shedding a queerly soft light over the silent room. Mayrose'' I face was turned towards Zellie, and it was an altered face. Work and excitement had thinned it, and the corners of the mouth and eyes were hard- ened by those lines which set their stamp on every man in a high position who ia obliged to refuse much that is asked of him, and to make his will constantly over- ride opposition. But Zellie thought the features beautified by their gravity. Her fascinated glance was fixed upon them with a wistful look of pity for the care they betrayed, and of admiration for the power and courage they revealed. She had promised herself that she would take but one glance and then retreat ; but when were such self-promises ever kept ? She felt enchained to the spot, for she had come just in time to hear her mother's question, "Are you not happy ?" and her heart seemed to stop beating as she waited for the answer. Mayrose took one of the Countess's hands and pressed it between his. " Nc, I am not happy !" said Jie, wretchedly. " I have nothing to complain of, and nothing gives me satisfaction. It is a just visitation. There is no blessing on those who perjure themselves in swearing that they love a woman when they have only married her from ambition." "But you did nothing of the sort," faltered the Countess. "These are morbid fancies that are haunting you, my poor boy." " I never loved Mary, and Ido not love her now," answered Mayrose, despond- ingly. " I do not know what short madness it was that possessed me when I first thought that I could get happiness by obtaining that poor child's money. I fancied myself miserable then, but if all the pangs of those days could return to me with the freedom and self-respect which ought to have made my sufierings easy to bear, I think I should be the happiest man alive." "But why wish for what is impossible?" asked the Countess, brushing some tears from her eyes. "Your first duty now is to your wife. You should try to love her and make yourself happy with her. If you do not, the time must come when she will find out your true feelings, and then you will have the remorse of having saddened her life along with your own. A woman, you know, never recovers from such p blow.'' " That is the dread which embitters every hour of each day," replied Mayrose, with despair. "You asked me why I did not give Mary advice, but I am trpmbling at each moment lest in some hasty word or look of mine she should dis- cover my secret. I know it would kill her ; and if she was hurried to her grave by my fault, I should feel as if i had murdered her with my hand." " Thjn is dreadful ; but you must pray for strength and guidance." said the Countess, unable to check her tears. " You will surmount these melancholy feel- ings if you are resigned and patient." 174 " I think it is more likoly that my sin will find me out, and bring upon me some crushing and deserved disgrace," was Mayrose's depressed answer. I have a pre- sentiment that such will be the case. This loan which my father-in-law has un dertaken has come upon me as a first note of warning. As to Mary, I can show her all kindness, and feign to love her as I do now, but my real sentiments towards her can never change." There was a pause, and then lowering his voice till it scarce rose above a whisper, he bent nearer to the Countess : " Dear Lady Rose- mary, you have oeen as a mother to me — let me make my full confession. This is the first time I have ever mentioned the subject to you, and it shall be the last — but to speak will relieve me. Since my return to England I have loved Zellie with all my heart — oh, how deeply ! — and every day seems to add to my love. When I came into this house I trembled like a boy, thinking I might meet her here. If I had done so, God knows how I should hg,ve borne it ! My pulse throbs faster now from knowing that she is under this roof." The Countess was crying fast. " ^ guessed this long ago, ray poor boy! But why did you not tell me ? You would have prevented so much unhappiness !" " I ought to have told you, but Hornette led me to think that 3'ou wanted him to marry Zellie. He came to me suddenly. I had no means of knowing what might be your plans, and I feared to be suapecied of wishing to marrj' Zellie for her fortune. • , " How could I have thought you capable of such a thing*" ' ' -""'^ ' - ■ " Well, you see, I was capable of such a thinji;, for I have done it since; and it .was perhaps some preconsciousness of my baseness that ma:le a coward of me. Yet, I feel that if I had married Zellie I could ne^ er have stooped to an unworthy act — she would have ennobled my wh j]e being. Well, it was not to be, audi must bear my cross. How is Zellie ?" " She has been very ill," said t' e Countess, drying her eyes, and waiting some seconds before she could answer. '" But now, Frederick, mj' beloved boy, my son, promise me that Zellie shall never hear anything of this from you. I feared we were going to lose her ; but she is better now, and we hope that her marriage will not be put off much longer. Lord Hornette is so much attached to her that her life may be happy if she is never allowed to suspect what you have told me. " She fc-hall never hear it from me," promised Mayrose, earnestly, though with a moan. " Much as it may cost you," added the Countess, whose tears would not cease flowing, " when you next meet her — for of course you must meet soon or late — try and make her believe that you are horoughly happy. If she has ever felt any- thing more than a sisterly affection for you, the knowledge that your whole heart belongs to your wife will impel her to bestow all ] er love on her husband." *' Yes ; I have done enough misohi"* as it i°, and you may trust me not to do any more. But" — and his voice q^uaverec a Uttle — " thank God I believe in future life, where misunderstandings are cleared up ; and, there Zellie will hear from me what I am forbidden to tell her now " He did not finish his sentence, for Lady Rosemary drew him towarde her, and sobbed on his neck. In their embrace they were as motlier and son mourning a common sorrow, and when Mayi'ose left the house he was in a manner comforted. Nothing but his pallor and a deeper seriousness than usual gave trace of ti\e emo- tions he had undergone. As for Zellie, white as a winding sheet, she stole from the room as silently as she had entered, and when Lady Rosemary returned to the boudoir where she had left her, she found her daughter apparently sleeping. And it did not appear to be an agitated sleep. The Countess sat down and tried to hold her breath not to awake the sleeper ; but Zellie seemed to w.ike nevertheless. She looked at her mother with a deep, strange glance, wandering, yet soft. " Mamma, dear, I have had a dream, and I thought my illness left me. I feel quite well now.'" 175 CHAPTER XV. LORD HORNKTTE PUTS OUT HISJSTINO. The characters of high-born women have ii ten no chance of assertmg them- selves. From girlhood to old age the woman who is rich and of good family lives in a temperate atmosphere of easily gratified desires, or, if she have a whim difficult to state, it must be a small one to be struggled for with the smaller qualities or foibles of hum.'U nature ; and conventional restraints prevent her from exhibiting even these too uiarkcdly. Custom and prejudice have made the woman's part in hfe very small. She is expected to be chaste, but if she comply with this rule Society credits her with all other virtues in favour of this one, and she may pass through the worli without anybody suspecting that she possessed idiosyncracies of heart and mind which in a man would have constituted a strong or heroic character. It is only when some deep passion is thwarted that a convulsion may arise, upheav- ing all the con I onts of a woman's heart, as the riches and flints of the soil are tlirown up by an ea* j\i;ike. The convulsion seldom lasts long; but as the eruption which rends tJio surface of the earth may permanently alter the outlines of a tract of country, .so the brief crisis through which a woman passes after some cross or great joy in love may, and generally does, modify the whole tone of hc^ mind thence- forth. It is then that her education and natural instincts may begin to operate '.vith unsuspected I i\ >r good or evil. From the day of Mayrose's interview with Lady Eosemaiy it was noticed that Zellie's health mended rapitllj\ The Countess attributed this to Providential suc- cour, the doctors to their medicines; but ;ill pronounced the change almost mira- culous. Colour rpturned to the patient's cheeks, strength t(.i her limbs, animation to her voice sua ^y . She begged to be treated no longer as an invalid, and talked of going out to t ■! parties and riding in the Park every day so soon as ever the pal- lor of the sick room should have finally forsaken h^^r. By the end of tliree days the Countess commenced hoping that all traces of ZeUie's affection for Mayrose had been obliterated, and that the marriage with Lord Hornette might soon be happily solemnized ; but it was on this third day when Lord Hornette called to pay his usual visit, that Zellie asked to receive him alone ; and she then told him, with little preface, that she wished her engagement with him to be broken off. She was wearing a white and blue muslin dress, and had put a red rose in her hair, and another in her girdle. If she had wished to excite Lord Hornette's love by heightening her revived beauty with a touch of coquetry she could not have appeared to better effect. He was deeply attached to her, and she had never seemed to him so well worth winning as now, when returning health seemed to have made their wedding immediately possible. Lo^e had rendered him so patient with her — he who was patient with nobody else, man or woman — that he did not at once accept her rebuff. " If you desire our marriage to be postponed again. Lady Zell, I will willingly consent, much as a loug delay would pain me," he said, grown a little pale. " I do not wish the marriage postponed. Lord Hornette, but definitely broken off," she answered, toying with a smeUing-bottle she had taken from the table. " And may I enquire why ?" he asked, his anger beginning to rise. " You must know why. You are aware that I never loved you, for I frankly told you so." " You did tell me that you had formed an unrequited attachment for a person whose name you did not mention ; but you added that if I would be content with what it was in yoiu' power to give, you would endeavour to do your duty as my wife." The Earl spoke in a tone of trembling indignation, as his hand clutched tho brim of his hat. " Well, I have altered my mind," replied Zellie, with cruel calmness. "I can never be your wife ; but to sooth your self respect I leave you free to say that it was you who broke off with me, and to alloge any reasons you please.' The Earl's lips became ashy white, and his glance kindled as he answered — " My self-respect will not bo soothed by telling a falsehood. If you refuse me 176 after having allowed me so long to believe in your fidelity, I sliall say simply that you refubedme." " Or that I have jilted you. You are welcome to circulate either version, Lord Homette," she said, rising. " I am very much obliged for your own constancy, but let this be the last confidential meeting between us.'' When Lord Hornette had gone away, well-nigh stunned by this unexpected and feelingless rejection, Zellie ran to tell her mother what she had done. But in the Ccvntess's boudoir she fmind her sister, who had just arrived, and Lady Eose- mary was not iu the room. Zellie embraced Violet, and straightway appraised her of what had liapp >ned. "You may say everywhere that I am not going to marry Lord Hornette, Violet. I have just sent him away." " You have done that ! " said. Violet, starting up in stupefaction. " Well, of all the foolish, wilful things " " I have done it because I pleased," interrupted Zellie, coldly. "And listen to me, Violet. The other day you tried to wound me, by saying wicked, false things about — about — you know whom. Weil, we are alone here as sisters, and I promise you that if ever you breathe another word against him in my hearing, I shall never see ov speak to you again, even though you crawled to my feet and asked me to forgive you." Violet waxed rebellious, the blood rose to her face, and her lips quivered ; but meeting Zellie'e determined glance as she essayed to speak, she saw that her sister was in one of those moods when women and girls must not be pushed to lengths. Happily, she loved her sister, and so put a curb on her tongue ; but the effort almost made her chest burst. " Well, as you choose. Be provoking and thoughtless, and make mamma and me, and everyone who loves you, miserable," she said, with gulping resignation. But after a moment a gust of anger got the better of her, and she asked naively, ** I may say what I think about — — that man when you are not there ? " " Behind my back you may say and do whatever the malice and envy'of others can suggest to a prejudiced woman. But remember this — that if ever I hear of your assailing him, I shall defend him, no matter what others may think of me ; and if ever I find him suffering from slander or conspiracy in which you have a part, I shall treat you as my worst enemy. So be warned. Now I am going to tell papa and mamma." Lord Rosemary, though he objected to ruffle himself, was distressed by Zellie's communication, for he did not see how after this he coula face the Duke of Bum- blebeigh, with whom be liked to play whist ; Lady Rosemary was sincerelj' grieved. But the combined chagrin of Zellie's parents was nothing beside the wrath of Lord Homette. He left the house in a fury, and spoke roughly to his coachman, a phe- nomenon which proved the agitation of his spirit, for, like a thorough nobleman, he was generally much more civil to his inferiors than to his equals. Not knowing that Violet v/as in the house at the time of his interview with Zellie, be ordered his coachman to drive him to her house in Grosvenor Square, but at Hyde Park Comer his excitement had become too intense to allow of his remaining pent-up in a brougham. He alighted, and cooled himself by going through the park on foot. It thus happened that when he arrived in Grosvernor Square, Violet, not lass excited than himself, had got there before him. He found her standing on the steps of her house, with a brace of footmen holding the hall door open behind her, while she impatiently watched her husband and Lord Beaujolais experimenting the latter's invention for cutting adrift a runaway team. This was a very important invention, and Lord Beaujolais much regretted that he had not become Master of the Horse, instead of Lord Chamberlain, in order that he might have tried it in Her Majesty's stables. The French authors and the people who wanted invitations to the Queen's parties were beginning to bore htm, and he was glad to leave the management of them to his wife. The sphere in which his own genius best shone was the huuting-field, the box of a f'our-iu-hand, or a phaeton, and as soon as he perceived Hornette, he waved his whip and cried, " See here Hornette ! isn't this neat?" Neat it was. Although a crowd of some dozen nursemaids and tradesmen's 177 I lenting h xien s boys had gathered on the pavement of the demure square, Lord Beaujolais, not mind- ing tliis publicity, set his pair of chesnuts in motion, and at the moment when they had reached a sharp trot suddenly turned a handle beside him. The pole was instant- ly unhooked, and fell to the ground, being protected from damage by an india-rub- ber cushion, fastened underneath. At the same time the traces dropped and trailed ; the phaeton rolled for a few yards further by impetus, and then stopped ; while the horses — who were quiet beasts, brought out for the purpose — were checked in their course by the groom, who had run on ahoad. Lord Beaujolais was as radiant as Watt must have been when he watched the kettle boil ; but Lord Hornette gave a shrug, and said testily, " If you patent that, the coachmen nf old ladies will be casting off their cattle whenever they find them I'risky, and there'll be nothing but runaway horses crashing all down Kegent-street. But I've no time for this. Come in, do I Chevychase, I v/ant to speak to you." "Yes, come in !" besought Violet, stamping one of her little boots, and talking with Lord Horuette she went into the house, the other two gentlemen following. " I see 5'^ou have heard everything," exclaimed Lord Hornette, when they had reached the drawing-room. " Yes, everytliing ; and its all that base Lord Mayrose's fault !" indignantly rejoined Violet, who could give full career to her feelings now that she was not under her sister's eye. " She is quite mad about Lord Mayrose, ZeUie is ; and you had better pay no attention to what she says. Lord Hornette. She will be ashamed of herself when slie is well enough to know how rude she has been." " llude is a weak term," protested the Earl, whose forehead was wrinkled with choleric lines. " She treated me as if I was a servant who had stolen something. I never saw her in such a temper. Something has occurred since the other day when I last spoke to her." " You don't mean to say my wife's sister has refused you ?"' inquired young Lord Chevychase, agliast. " Yes, and I tell you, Lord Mayrose must have found means of exciting her," ejaculated Violet, throwing down her bonaet on a sofa. "She was quite reason- able a week ago ; and oh, I know of no punishment strong enough for a man who does such things — a married man mind, and one who was broiight up with us like a brother. If there were duelling in England, such an odious ^wretch would not be allowed to live a week." '■ Come, come," interposed Lord Beaujolais, who hated rows, " I've heard noth- ing but abuse of Mayrose for the last twelve-month. 'Pon my soul, he's not such a bad fellow as that." "Yes, you and Lady Beaujolais have been supporting him of late," cried Violet, turning round upon his Lordship like a scratching kitten. "Yet vou ought to know what his good-fellowship is worth by this time — a man who married for money, then betrayed his principles for place, and is now at present going to swindle the public by a loan." Now Lord Hornette had heard of the Rio-Bngande Loan, for Prince Casino, in the interest of that financial concern, was hinting everywhere that Lord May- rose had a share in the concern, and had tacitly promised that tlu' British Govern- ment should recognize Senor Descamisado. Lord Hornetti' had thought this ru- mour monstrous, and had disbelieved it ; but disappointment prepares us capitally for being unjust, and liow that he had been rejected by Zellie, the Earl was iia- liosed to believe anything against the man whom ho felt to be his only rival. Judging by these new lights, too, the whole of Mayrose's past doings became low and mean. Lord Hornette forgot that he had been foremost to extol May- rose's motives in marrying Mary Penny woddle, and that he had given hnnaeif much trouble to convert others to his views. He was ni>w ready to look upon "3ie marriage as disgraceful. As to Mayrose's political attitude, the Earl had never been able to think with patience of that ; but as so many otlier men had deserted the true faith, he had been willing to concede that Mayrose had acted, like them, from conviction. However this idea ceased to be longer tenable, and the loan af- fair came like a crowning sin, adding weight to all the others. After Lord Huld be confirmed to him by a second witness. So he approached Prince Casino, and propounded to him the same question as he had set the Knight. He was answered to the same efi'ect, but with more gush of detail ; for the Prince, having just receiveu are quite right to get men of that sort to help you, and profit if you can," said the Earl, with quiet contempt. '' You are only doing youi business ; but a Mini.ster who consents to be your tool is a aovelty in England." The Prince stared as he stufted a piece of foie gras into his mouth ; but Lord Hornette was already gone. He walked into the reading-room, and taking a pen went to a chimner-piece over which hung the list of candidates who were down for the next ballot He ran his pen thr\)Ugh Mayrose's name and his own, then turn- ing round, addressed some twenty members who were scattered about reading and cha' -""' — had pro2)o8ed Mayrose for air Windsor of high-life i sparkling ) table, and t anecdotes ird from Sir ched Prince light. He the Prince, oan in rose )rd Mayrose lized by the :vice as if it' [ilord May- p you, and doing your England." , but Lord ;aking a pen sre down for , then turn- reading and just struck rs had been I was to be 179 commenced next night in the Commons, -and speculating on the difficulty which the Cabinet would have in carrying it through the Lords — a difficulty of which Mayrose would probably have to bear the brunt . One or two of the members who were on good terms with Mayrose sprang up, and all exclaimed at the astounding insult thus offered to a Minister of State. But Lord Hornette threw down his pen contemptuously, stared at the company to see if there were any who would pick up the glove, and then with a vicious frown disappeared into the writing room, where he at once .sat down and indited the following epistle : — " Brummel Club. " My Lord, — I had proposed you for admission to the Brummel Club, but owing to cir- cumstances which have come to my knowledge, and which you can guess without my specifying them, I have this day withdrawn your name ; and I have publicly stated iu the presence of several members of the Club that I consider you unworthy to sit down among gentlemen. Should you require further satisfaction of me than that contained iu these lines. Lord Chevychase and my brother, Lord Adolphus Drone, will receive any friends who may be disposed to second you. " Your obedient servant, " Hornette." " To the Right Honourable Viscount Mayrose," &c., &c. CHAPTER XVI. SIR ham's ultimatum. Lord Hornette's letter having been sent by post was delivered in the evening, while Mayrose was out. It was laid ou his study-table, with some half dozen others ; but as Mayrose did not return home till the small hours, he deferred open- ing it tUl morning. When he had read it through he thought a moment, took a pen and at once answered. De.vr Hornette, — There are two ways of treating your letter, but I prefer replying as if we were still at Eton, and telling you not to make a goose of yourself. If one of us have any right to complain of the other it is certainly not you, as you may acknowledge if you scrutinize your conscience. As to Brummel, I shall find another proposer since you withdraw. Believe me, it would not break my heart if I were blackballed for that exalted institution ; but yoi; knijw me sufficiently to be aware that I never sit down tamely under childish impertinence, even when it comes from an old friend. " Yours faithfully, Mayrose." This was written iu the qiaarter of an hour preceding breakfast, before Mary had yet come down. When Mayrose had sealed it his eye singled out from the heap of other letters an envelope directed in a lady's hand. It proved to be fi'om Lady Beaujolais, and served to explain Lord Hornette's irate effusion : — " My Dear Lord Mayrose, — I write iu great haste to warn you that Azalea Carol has rejected Lord Hornette, and that the fault of this is being laid upon you. Violet Chevy- chase spoke in my husband's presence about it, aud said moat dreadful things al)out you. Lord Hornette was there too, and Lord Beaujolais declares he never saw him so exasperated. Of course I do not believe a word Violet says, but I have thought it well to write to you alj. ut this, 80 that if there were any truth iu it you might be caution.^, for the Drones are vcrij spiteful when provoked. I must add that people seem to be angry with you because of your father-in-law's loan. "Very sincerely yours, " Alice Beaujolais." " P. S. — If the loan is really a good thing I hope you williet me have some shares — 'uly a hundred or .so. And I see the Bishopric of Magdala is vacant. I am sun; you will be glad of my rocommcnding you a most deserving man — Mr. Simpkin, our rector. He has ckven children aud a twelfth expected, poor man. Please burn this. — A. B." Mayrose burned it as desired, and did not mention the receipt of it, nor of Lord Hornette's letter, to Mary. During breakfast Mary descanted with no little excite- ment on some symptoms of coldncHS she had observed in certain ladies at a party the night bel-cv. She had been questioned with au affectation of interest about the 180 loan, and some gentlemen had persisted in talking to her in a tone of persiflage about the picturesque beauty of Kio-Brigande and the greatness of Senor Descami- Bado. " They appeared to think it was you who were starting the loan," said she, with animation, as she poured out the tea. " It was all I could do to restrain my- self from saying that papa had not started it either, but had been led into it by designing people." " I hope you did restrain yourself " said Mayrose, nervously ; " they would not have believed you." " I restrained myself, dear, because I thought you would not like me to give those tattlers a pioce of my mind," answered Mary, meekly. " But the more I think about this, the more I am sure that you were right about Grace Marvell ; and I mean to go to Kensington this morning to tax her openly with her treachery, and tell her to leave papa's house." " I woi;ld not do that. It is too late now ; and Sir Ham would not allow you to give such an order." " "What, not under his own roof! Why, I will tell papa how cruelly he has been deceived — how Grace and the Italian are plotting to ruin him." " A man of your father's experience, my dear child, does not credit that people can deceive him," said Mayrose, breaking his egg. "Besides, we have no proof positive. The best thing I can do is to sound Leech, who is a great ally of Miss Marvell's. Perhaps he knows something of the matter, and will be able to warn the girl ; but I repeat, it is too late to stop the loan — it has broken upon both of us like a storm, and Ave must submit to the drenching. Quilpin Leech had of late come to live in Mayrose's house. He breakfasted alone, but was always in the study by half-past nine, answering letters or compiling notes sent him overnight. He was the same mournful-looking object as ever. He never smiled ; his large ears seemed to grow more and more at right angles with his face ; and the wisp of rebellious hair at tlie apex of his head bristled up like a point of interrogation, as though wondering whether the eccentric melancholy of its possessor would ever cease. As Leech was erudite enough to furnish most historical and even statistical notes required of him without much consulting books of refer- ence, and as the pace of his copper-plate hand-writing was well nigh telegraphic, he had plenty of spare time on liis hands, and employed it as usual in hoaxing persons. He delighted in sending anonymous letters to great officers of State, telling them (un- der mysterious feminine signatures, and on mauve paper) that titled ladies had fallen in love with them ; and he had slept soundly one night after having caused a judge of the Common Pleas, a big Peer, a puritanical M.P., and a Court dignitary, to pace about the whole evening on the four sides of Eaton Square, waiting for a veiled lady with a cheny bow at her throat, who never turned up. But his chief joy was in roasting Mayrose's valet, Bino, who confidently believed, as we have once explained, that the police of Europe were on the lookout for him. Bj' the kind help of Government clerks disguised as policemen, Quilpin Leech had been able to make Bino lead a dog's life, and had one evening — Mayrose being absent — gone the length of arresting him, and com ayiug him in a cab to Hampstead, where the pseudo-police left him on the Heath, iu a blinding rain, to find his way home as he could. Though Bino had been silent about this adventure, Mayrose had heard of it, as well as of other strange quips, from indirect sources ; and one might think he would have felt diffident about taking his queer Secretary into counsel on anj'' serious subject. But he was aware of the sound sense which lurked under Leech s fanciful nature, and therefore, on joining him after breakfast, confessed his anxieties about the loan, and the part which he feared Grace Marvell had taken in it. Quilpin Leech listened gravely, brushing the ffies away from liis head with a pen-wiper, for it was the summer, and the weather was warm. At the mention of Grace's name he knit his brow slightly. He remembered too well what she had often said to him about her eagerness to acquire a brilliant social position ; but he was loth to believe that the woman he loved so hopelesslj-, yet so truly, would strive after this end by any unworthy means — and he would have been more loth to avow the belief even had he harboured it. I'ii 181 IL' the me. 111- I annoy- " Miss Marvell cannot be concerned in the plot," ho answerod mournfully, catching a fly and putting him in the ink-pot ; " or at least not consciously — though that Italian poodle is trying to use her aa an instrument." " I daresay that is it, but if she is really a good girl, just warn her of jury she may do Sir Ham, and of the groat incouvenieiict^ she is causing know she does not like me, but T think she would not ;,.,ituitou.sly brin anco on my head." " Why should she not like you ?" asked Leech, opening lii.s grey eyes wide. " T am sure I don't know, but it is easy to see she does not. Hint to her though, that if she wants to marry Casino, it would be easy tii find the man some honest means of making money without his meddling with Sir Ham's affairs." " I'm d d — I beg pardon, I'm blessed if I give her any hint about mariy- ing that son of a dancing dog," exclaimed the Secretary, catching a blue-bottle, which he exterminated with a ruthles.sness out of keeping with his principles. "I'll tell you what, though, I'll warn her what I think of that Italian, and if that won't do, I'll get the fellow out in afield somewhere, and give him a few arguments ad canein, that is with a stick.'' " Don't do anything stupid, for we can't stop this loan, which is already half settled ; all we can do is to prevent my father-in-law falling wholly into the hands of that loose fish, and committing further mistakes. But now I must leave you to answer my letters, for I am steeped in work ; this is going to be a busy day. " It was in truth the very busy day when the debate on the Suffrage Bill was going to commence in the Commons. All the members not bedridden had come up to town, and along with them more Peeris than had ever been seen at ona time in the metropolis. The clubs were also gorged with country squires, who had hur- ried up to assure themselves with their own eyes whether it were seriously proposed to confer the right of voting on every clod-crusher and farm-yard wench in Eng- land. Bewildered groups of these worthies could be seen discussing at tiie corners of St. James's street and Pall Mall, and their faces were hot, and their eyes fiery. However, with the touching faith of country folk in those who govern them, they still hoped some religious spirit of patriotism would breathe through Parliament at the eleventh hour, and cause the unhallowed Bill to be rejected. But there was no chance of this, at least in the Commons. Mr. Paradyso and Lis party anathematised Mr. Paramount with all the fury of men who have been outwitted, and it was passably touching to hear their lamentations over the im- morality of a man whr had done nothing more than they themselves would have tried to do had they fancied it would have brought them back to office. The de- struction of the Constitution was, indeed, regarded by Mr. Paradyse's followers as their own special business, which they were patented to exercise by Divine Right. They had all looked forward to a long career of usefulness and salaiies by abolish- ing first this institution and then the other, but all in jirudent order, as the inter- ests of their party should dictate. There were squad? f ^jromising young barris- ters who had calculated on earning glory for themseivef by the advocacy of uni- versal suffrage in twenty year's time ; and others half-way up the ladder, who, at the last election, had hesitated to pledge themselves to such a mild measure as household suffrage in counties, from not knowing whether Mr. Paradyse were dis- posed to go that length. But here was Mr. Paramount, who at one stroke was about to wrest from them the pretext for a (quarter of a century's snug tactics and agitation ; and their rancour against him was as that of a man who should have planned a comfortable burglary for some distant date, and found that a quicker compeer had forestalled him. In such cases the disappointed burglar is always the most vociferous in crying, " Stop thief !" For all this, Mr. Paradyse's party saw themselves compelled to support Mr. Paramount, because the " Great Voice of the Nation" had pronounced for the Bill. That great voice had been yelling in Hyde Park for the last five or six Sundays ; and the Paradyseist newspapers, which had at first attacked the Bill, had promptly veered round on perceiving their sale diminish. The Reporter, too, was thundering out daily satires at the party who pretended falsely to be "friends of the iJeople " ; and goading up all the tag-rag and bob-tail of our intelligent king- 182 dom not to let Mr. Paradyse dole out reforms to them by the spoonful, as if they were children. Moreover there were the women, and these shrieked loudest of all. Yes, they shrieked aloud, clamouring for their "Rights." It had often been said that the more modest section of womankind had no aml)ition to vote, and this was 80 far true that as long as the majority of men had resolved not to give them a vote, and had visited with a kind of social ostracism those who held out for votes, the modest woman had cautiously avoided inciirring such ostracism. But at heart every woman feels that she is quite as comi)etiint to exercise the suflrage as any man ; and it had long been predicted by judges of feminine nature that if ever the ugly sex betrayed weakness in dealing with the female (question a tidal movement woidd set in strong enough to sweep all resistance to the winds. The time for this movement had now arrived, thanks to Mr. Paramount. In drawing-rooms ladies enthusiastically extolled the Premier's liberalism and gallantry, and out of doors the less timid representatives of the sex walked the streets with banners atid peti- tions. A monster meeting of determined females had also been held in Trafalgar Scjuare, and it is needless t<» say that all the speeches savoured of that delicacy and forbearance which ever marks the utterances of Persecuted Woman when she wants anything strongly. Therefore the only strenuous opposition which the Bill hud to dread was from the Peers ; and public interest really centred more expectantly on the debate in their Lordships' House than in that of the Commons. It was said that the fight among the noble lords in front of the woolsack would be the longest and fiercest of the reign, and as Lord Lobby, the leader, was truly not erpial to the task of fight- ing fiercely, the Paramountists were beginnitig to confess that they built their hopes on Mayrose. Our friend was aware of this, and hence the great anxiety he had bestowed on the Bill. He had toiled .i,t it with Mr. Paramount find the Crown lawyers till it had beojme in a large part his own work, and he was desirous of watching every step of its progress through the Lower House to detect its feeble points. So punctually at four o'clock on the afternoon of the Commons' debate ho walked into the Lower House, and took his seat in the Peers' Gallery. In so doing he was conscious of an almost exaggerated rt.^|ject paid him by the Paramountist Peers, three or four of whom obsequiously made way for him that he might have a prominent seat. On the other hand, the Peers who had always been opposed to Mr. Paranumnt, or had broken with him, had begun to treat Mayrose with a strange coldness and some contempt. Tt was evident that the ugly rumours con- cerning Sir Hani's loan had been preju.dicial to him ; and he could not help feeling that even the respect of his own partisans was traversed by a shade of suspicious- ness, as if it were a respect awarded rather tu his important position at the present crisis than to his private worth. Soon after Mr. Speaker had ascended the chair, capped with his buoh of horse- hair, and while the Ministers were being badgered by the usual half hour's imperti- nent questions, Lord Hornette entered the House, buttoned up to the throat, grim and savage-looking. He stared hard and haughtily at Mayrose, whose note he must have just received, and strode U his seat below the gangway among the half- hundred of true-bhies. The minute after. Lord Lobby, the Foreign Secretary, crept into the Peer's Gallery, seated himself beside Mayrose, and whispered :- "That loan is an unfortini.ate business, and is setting many Peers and women against you. Sir Ham Pennywoddle dodged me down a passage just now Lo speak about it as I presiime, but I escaped. Could you not put a stop to the thing /"' The Earl of Lobby was an amiable Minister, with a pot-belly, and a mouth wide as a frog's. He had pepper-and salt whiskers, wore his hat at the back of his head, and dressed with extreme care — affecting light-colored ■ lavstts, blue or gray, and white waistcoats. His policy in life had mostly consisted in being dodged down passages and escaping ; and he had so incurable an aversion for grieving any- body with a "No," that he was utterly imable to return a plain answ^er to the simplest question. Often, when anything went wrong, he suggested ruefully, as he had just done to Mayrose, that the thing "should be .stopped ;" but he much preferred leaving the stopping to others instead of performing it himself. He would have walked straight out of the Cabinet, and renounced forever the society as if tliey lest of all. jfton been ), and thia ve them a for votes, it at heart go as any f ever the movement le for this Dms ladies of doors atid peti- Trafalgar licacy and she wants was from debate in the fight fiercest of : of tight- juilt their ,nxiety he he Crown Bsiroiis of its feeble debate ho I so doing imountist ht have a pposed to e with a ^urs con- p feeling ispicious- e present of horse- imperti- oat, grim note he the half- ecretary, M :- women U) speak ing?-' a mouth ,ck of his or gray, [ dodged dng any- Jt to the fully, as lie much elf. He ! society 183 of Ambassadresses, which ho dearly loved, had it boon insisted of him that he should be onerget'c and candid. " Couldn't you stop the thing/" repeated His Lordship, nodding blandly to members on both sides of the House, for ho had friends everywhere. ** There is nothing to stop," ans^vered Mayrose. " If my father-in-law chooses to fling his money out of the window [ can only remonstrate." " Yes, of course, but he's very vexatious, and — by Heavens, here he comes," groaned the Earl, starting as if he would fly. But there was no flying. The Peers being in those seats just behind the bar, where they can bo easily accosted by members passing imder the clock, Sir Ham waddled forward, laid his two hands on the ledge in front of them, stood on tiptoe, and turned up his red round face towards them. "Here, I've caiight you both together," ho gasped, likel it man who has achieved a feat and is pleased. ** Now, Mayrose, just tell Lord Lobby to give me a reply about recognizing Rio-Iirigande." " The thing is (juite impossible,'" answered Mayrose, relieving his colleague of all responsibility, to the latter's untold joy. " Whatever might be Lord Lobby's personal desire to oblige you, he cannot give oflicial expression to it." " I should always desire to oblige Sir Ham Penny woddle," protested the For- eign Secretary, flourishing a cambric handkerchief, with great politeness. " Then just listen," said the Kniglit, with kindling eyes. " I shall vote against this here Bill." The menace came out suddenly, like the popping of a l)ig paper-bag,'and was quite as ludicrous. Mayrose sat astonished, and Lord Lobbj', though full of anguish, c'onld not repress a smile ; but Sir Ham was not smiling. With cheeks suffused and eyeballs agleam like wet gooseberries, he stuttered — "Yor want to ruin me then, Mayi'ose — me, yer own fathei"-in-law ; the man that gave yer all that money when you married Mary !" One or two of the neighbouring Peers pricked up their noble ears. Mayrose, red and white by turns, loar.t-d forward to whisper — thougli his voice vibrated — " Pray contain yourself, Sir Ham. What have I to do with this matter?" " Y'ou've everything to do with it," stamaiered the indignant Knight; " and I ■ tell yer I'll vote against the Bill, and speak against it ; and so will my friend Shole- fiddie, the member for Billingsgate." " You and Mr. Sholefiddle may do as you please." * " But I'll do more than that," proceeded the Knight, more and more choleric. " You're a tryin' to stop my climbin' high because you're ashamed o' me, and you're settin' my own child ag'in me — don't tell me, I had it from her own lips. But you wasn't ashamed o' me, Mayrose, when you came a sneakin' round me for my daughter, and the money I'd made by them sausages and oyster-shells I" " Really, Sir Ham, I do beg — " pleaded Lord Lobby, quite against at such plain language. " Yer may beg what yo\a like, my lord, and may-be beggin' is not an uncom- mon trick among Peers," retorted Sir Ham, raising his voice, as if he had lost his respect for everybody and for everything except the money he feared to lose. " I don't care who hears me neether, for I thmk your be'aviour is mean, Mayrose ; and they told me it 'ud be so, for everyone has a poor opinion of you. But you mark my words, if you expect to get anything by this you're mistaken — for I'll leave every farthing I have away from Mary and you — so just sleep a night over it." The Knight put his finger and thumb together, and snapped them with a thud which reached Mr. Speaker, and caused him to arch his eyebrows. This done, he turned on his heel just at the moment when, the questioning being over, Mr. Para- mount rose to his legs, amid a tremendous gust of party cheers, to introduce the Universal Suffrage Bill. Mayrose prepared to listen to his chief 's speech in a frame of mind not enviable. As for Lord Lobby, he had become limp with emotion, and the neighbouring Peers were murmuring in one another's ears. ■,i'j IH-F:. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) ^ /. / Vj O Ai^ '^s y. L0_ "^BS ilM ii£ Bii 12.2 I.I 1.25 1.4 1.6 P^ > '^# /(S^ i? ^^ / Photographic Sciences Corporation 33 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY 14S80 (716) 872-4503 i/i '4> 184 CHAPTER XVII. THE LAUIEH' GALT.BRV. The debate on the Universal Suffrage Bill raged till 3 o'clock in the morning, and was then adjourned till the morrow, on the motion of Lord Hornette. The speeches were fierce, but Mr. Paradyso's prudent ))»rty directed their shafts against Mr. Paramount rather than against the Bill, for the hideous fear of not being elected by the reformed constituencies paralyzed the tongue of each honourable member. Mr. Paradyse's three-hour oration was an impassioned attack on Mr. Paramount's motives ; and also an earnest demonstration of how much better the Bill would have been had it been introduced by hinuelf (Mr. Paradyse). We know that earnestness was Mr. Paradyse's dominant virtue. When he was in oflice, and made appointments untenable on any legal or moral ground, the admiring newspapers of his party argued that this was all owing to his excess of conscienti- ousness ; and when ho was in opposition, the earnest desire to get back to office, and exert his excessive conscientiousness for the public good, led him into displays of eloquence at once beautiful and holy. On this «»ccfi8ion ho rose sore all over from the sarcasms which Mr. Pariidyse's had stuck into him like pin-thrusts ; and, having plied his earnest, angry tongue like abroad sword in retaliation for this needle-wit, Mr. Paradyse added, with vehemence, that he should offer uncom- promising opposition to those clausea of the Bill which dealt with the distribution of seats. Mr. Paramount's Bill provided that there should be one member for every 50,000 inhabitants, but the circumscriptions projected kept the borough representa- tion distinct from the rural, giving, in fact, one member to every 50,000 peasants, and one to every 50,000 citizens. Mr. Paradyse declared that this distinction must cease to exist, and that the circumscriptions should bo arranged to include citizens and peasants indiscriminately, to the end, no doubt, that in the majority of in- stances the rural votes might be swamped by those of the townfolk. His followers went on the same tack, and tL' only opposition to the Bill in toto came from those sturdy true-blues below the gangway, who, led on by Sir. Sterling and Lord AlVjert Drone, said a groat many fine things which other honourable gentlemen felt, though they feared to express thoni. When the debate was adjourned till the morrow — which was a Wednesday — a customary discussion arose about the rights of private members ; for a busy politician, who had charge of the Bill for allowing Shakers to hold their dances in the churches of the Establislnnent, uttered a feeling protest against having his annual speech and motion elbowed out of the way. But he was shouted down, and the House rose, divining by Lord Hornette's ugly looks that he would deliver a few hard truths more telling than anything the Shakers' champion could have to say. Mayrose lingered till the end of the debate, and, when it was finished, waited for Mr. Paramount in the lobby. The Premier came, surrounded by a noisy troop of adherents, who were congratulating him on his splendid speech, and he made straight for Mayrose, taking him by the arm, and asking him for a lift home. The two crossed Westminster Hall together, and as soon as they were in Mayrose's brougham, the Prime Minister alluded with concern to Sir Ham's behaviour, which had excited attention. " Dandelion tells me that your father-in-law means to vote and speak against the Bill, and threatens to make the Reporter turn round on us. Can he be in earnest V' " I think he is out of his senses !" exclaimed Mayrose, who had been fretting all the evening after his scene with Sir Ham, and whose irritation now broke out hotly. *' Sir Ham was coarse and insolent to me, and I can only conclude that the shar{)ers among whom he has fallen have turned his head." " It would have been no great matter to recognize Rio-Brigande, if such a fuss had not been made about it," answered the Premier, soothingly. " But per- haps you had better give Sir Ham some hopes. There is no saying but that coun- try may settle down, and its recognition would follow as a matter of course. If 185 Sir Ham is told this, he nvpiy take patience till after the fiill is voteu. This is the essential." " I resilly see no good in humouring any improper demand," answered May- rose, with impatience. " I honestly believe my father-in-law is not in his right mind for the present, and I would let him act as it suits him." " Perhaps that is the soundest course," answered the Premier, as if he did not think so. " Sir Ham, however, may draw Mr. Sholefiddle and some others, which would be iinfort\inate. But there is another annoying matter : What was that disturbance between yourself and Lord Hornette at the Brummel ?" Mayrose, in a vexed tone, stated all he knew of the affair, which was little. " Hornette seems to have got crazed too," added he ; " but what am I to do ? We don't fight duels in England. I can't go and horsewhip him, and if I returned his insults we should bo like a pair of men blackguarding each other." "Decidedly so, avoid all rows," ejaculated Mr. Paramount, with some ner- vousness ; then in a tone of friendliness, which came maybe from the remembrance of his own early struggles against calumny and detraction. " After all, these troubles will pass away ; they are only the brambles that tear at every successful man." Mayrose made no reply. The carriage flashed down silent Whitehall, and the lamp posts seemed to fly on either side of the way like soldiers of an army in rout. He set down Mr. Paramount at the latter's residence, and then rode home, sick at heart with the thought that his troubles were only beginning, not ending, and that possibly they would only terminate after they had heaped upon him ruin and dis- grace. As he had foretold to Lady Rosemary — his sin was finding him out. Mary was sitting up for her husband, as she always did, at no matter what hour he was expected home, and poring ovor her book of etiquette to wile away the time. As soon as her master's carriage was heard at the door, Mary's maid had orders to light a spirit-lamp, and prepare a cup of chocolate ; and MajToae generally came straight to his wife's dressing-room tt) take this refreshment, which was welcome enough after an evening's fatigue. This time he went into her room as usual, but instead of greeting her with a kind smile, presented himself with a frown ; and for the first time since their marriage ho addressed her bitterly. He could not help it ; the humiliation he had endured at Sir Ham's hands was too cruel to be borne alone. " Your father has insulted me this evening in the hearing of Lord Lobby and some other Peers," ho said, coldly, without ai)proaching her, but throwing himself into an arm-chair. Mary sat speechless, and let her book glide to the floor. Her peignoir was drawn round her, her hair was dressed up under a small livce cap ; and all this white contrasting with her dark open eyes made them seem twice their size. " My — fathor — has — insulted — you ?" she echoed, with a terrified pause between each word, as if they were making her choke. ' * He taunted me with having married you for your money, and with being a mean, pitiful beggar," continued Mayrose, with chilly composure. "He added that he should leave all his fortune away from us, and that I was instigating you to act against him." " You — instigating mo against my father ?" " Yes ; cind I sTipposo he will repeat that to you, and teach you to suspect, perhaps to hate me." Mary shrank as if hurt, then sprang up, darted across the room, and sank at her husband's feet, folding her hands on his lap .—"For God's .sake, FiOildy, don't look at me in that way. I can stand anything but that. Tell me what it 'sthat is happening to us. People stare at me with aversion, and speak to me ill-naturedly. This evening again at Lady Beaujolais' 1 heard some whispering when I entered the room. 1 don't understand it ; and these last few days a presentiment has crept on me that some disaster was going to overtake us. Don't conceal anything from me. I am your wife, and if there is any grief troubling you, for pity's sake let me share it." She spoke in such a harrowing tone of entreaty that he felt a sudden shame 186 for hia harshness. It was far from his wish to cause her pain, and nothing but the exasperation into which ho had been tlirown could have made him depart from the demeanour of outward tenderness he had hitherto displayed — and had purposed ever to display — towards his wife. He drew her to him, gently stroking her hair and taking her hands within his. But her fingers were icy cold and trembled. "It is nothing, my dear child," he then murmured, trying, not very success- fully, to assume an air of cheerfulness ; " only I am afraid you have linked your life to that of a man who has many uphill battles to fight, and may not always win them." " Oh, what does that matter so long as your love remains to me," she cried, clinging to him and gazing appealingly into his face. " You are all the world to me. Nothing would seem too hard if you were by my side, and let me take my part of all your sorrows. I knov/^ I am not your, equal in intelligence, but advise me, guide me, and you will see what trouble I will take to learn, and what a good wife I will be to you ! Now tell me about this, dear. Is it that horrid loan again ? Perhaps we may find some means of appeasing papa together." " I daresay your father will be sorry for bis hastiness when he reflects on it, but meanwhile there is nothing to do but be patient," answered Mayrose, resignedly. And, as his voice had now softened, she nestled her head on his breast, and soon, giving away to the reaction consequent on the over-wrought tension of her nerves, burst into tears as unrestrained as those of a child's. Mayrose ought to have been touched by the devotion of the poor little thing, whom a single unkind look of his was enough to throw into agonies, but her tea^s did not move those well-springs of his heart whence love flows. By-aud-bye he lulled her to sleep, and watched her pure breathing and the innocent repose of her features, half wondering that he could feel no affection for the sweet young creature in whom God had implantod all the charms and virtues which make women love- able. But the heart is a riddle beyond the ken of reason. All the previous day Mayrose had derived a deep, secret joy from the knowledge that Zellie was not going to marry Lord Hornette, and now, standing by his wife's bedside, it seemed to him that this unavowable solace liad made the day's crosses lighter. He was conscious that there was a profanation in allowing these thoughts to intrude on him in such a place and at such an hour. But a full day had not yet elapsed since Zellie's rejection of his old rival had been made known to him, and Sir Ham's insults, coming so soon after this news, had stirred his regrets over his maiTiage into something like an intensity of repining. Mayrose did not feel that Zellie's altered position could have any influence on his own life ; for under all circumstances he intended remaining faithful to his mar- riage vow, and to the promise he had given Lady Rosemary never to hint his love to Zellie. But the certainty that Zellie was free, and the intuitive conviction that her engagement had been broken off by her constancy to him, were facts that did more to cheer him under his present trials than all his wife's love and devotion. He could not sleep, but left Mary's chamber and walked noiselessly about his dressing-room, till by-and-bye a stenltiiy wish crept over him to see Zellie and speak to her, if only for a single moment. He should reveal nothing of his undying attachment to her — he would endeavour to speak to her as if she were no more than a friend — but he said to himself that if he could touch her hand and read in her downcast eyes that she was still true to him, ho should have the courage to face any evils that the future might have in store. A little frightened by his own thoughts, he /aised the light of the lamp and sat down to try and read ; but his mind would not travel with the print, and no wonder ; for when a married man once drifts into reflections like these, they lead him over that border-land of duty beyond which every step is a pitfall. The next day— or rather the same day, for it was then five o'clock in the morning — Lord Beaujolais arrived in Berkeley Sciuare towards mid-day glowing with the Importance oi a special embassy. There was a great difi'erence between the embassies which Lord Beaujolais undertook on his own account, and those which he discharged, acting by the advice of hia wife. In the former cases hia lordship was precipitate — talked in " you knows ' and " I says," and was generally 187 8o much flustered that he wore yesterday's gloves, possibly feeling by instinct that they were good enough to bungle with ; but Lord Beaujolais primed by his wife was like a man who feels sure of his ground. When he drew up at Mayrose's door, he had a geranium in his button-hole, his straw-coloured gloves wore speckless, and his golden beard spread out like a fan under his rosy face defying the breezes of the morning. , " I have just dropped in to say that I've token my name off the Brummel," he began, airily, and with a cordial shake of the hand. " After Homette's behav- ior, it was not decent that I should belong to the club a day longer." " I am really very much obliged to you, but I should be very sorry to draw you into my quarrels," replied Mayrose, rather touched, nevertheless. " Oh, it was the only course open to me ! My wife saw it in a moment," said the Lord Chamberlain, with sagacity. '• Ydu know, women have a great tact in these things. It seems the report of Homette's doings went to Osborne, and the Queen instantly directed the Prince to withdraw too." (This was not Prince Casino, but the Prince of the Blood.) " He will probably invite himself to dinner with you to mark his disapproval of Homette's strange conduct." " I would rather have treated that' conduct as the freak of a foolish fellow," rejoined Mayrose, with a shrug, '' but I cannot but feel grateful for the Prince's kindness." " Everybody must feel kindly towards you," answered the Earl, breezily: " and my first impulse was to convene a general meeting to make Homette apolo- gize or resign. But my wife thought it would not be prudent to fly in the faces of the Drones, and do anything that could get into the papers. On the whole, with- drawal was better, for lots of other fellows will follow us, now that the Prince has resigned, and we can found another club to which the Prince and you will both belong. We'll call it the ' D'Orsay,' and blackball all the Drone and Midge con- nection, hip and thigh." ** Don t you think cluba rather exceed their mission when men turn them into vehicles for inflicting nnderh.'vnd slights on one another ? " asked Mayrose, unen- thusiastically. " Oh, certainly— hem," coughed the Earl, for his wife had not coached him in view of this poser. " But the tirst slight came from them, yni know, and egad, the Drones have had such a long innings in knocking their enemies all over the shop, that I shall be delighted to pill a few under the rose. Of course I won't quarrel with Homette openly, for old Bumblebeigh can bring down his foot on one's head like a sledge-hammer. But, 1 say, it's one o'clock — suppose I drive you down to the house, ' broke off" his lordship, wary of evincing too much social valour at one time. Mayrose accepted, and was whirled away in Lord Beaujolais' phaeton, whose well-picked team, prancing along with all theii- eigh( legs off the ground at the same time, seemed to be in unison with the buoyant mood of their master. Soon after her husband had gone, Mary came down with a grim purpose on her little face, ordered her carriage, and drove to Kensington to see her father. But Sir Ham was not at home, and Mary could elicit nothing from her mother as to the possibilities of a reconciliation between her husband and her father. Lady Pennywofldle was all distraught and lackadaisical from having heard her Ham vow with denunciatory gestures that his son-in-law wanted to niin him. Mary did not aek to see Grace, nor did that young lady show hers«'lf during the interview between mother and daughter — indeed, Lady Pennywoddle volunteered the statement that she had gone out shopping, as she believed. When Mary discovered that she could draw nothing but sighs and whimperings half-reproachful from her mother, she started for the House of Commons, resolving to send a note to Sir Ham by an usher, and to have an explanation at any hazards. Had she simply sent in her card Sir Ham might have scrupled to tell the usher that he declined seeing his own daughter, but the usher couUi not guess what was in the note, so that the Knight, who feared that his obstinacy might be mollified by Mary's entreaties, returned the answer that he could not leave the House till the debate was over. This reply was brought out to Mary in the public lobby, whither 188 she had come by herself with her veil drawn down. There was a great crowd of people collected in this lobby, for the debate was to be resumed at two, and strang- ers up from the country were waylaying their several members to ask them for tickets to the gallery — ^this place of delight being more than overstocked already. There were squires and provincial attorneys, and ex-M.P.'s who had been unseated for bribery, but whose seven years of disffanchisement were drawing to an end; and sallow-faced parsons and purple-cheeked farmers ; and among all these jostling persons the usher had to push his way to bring the Knight's message to Mary. When Mary received the snub she stood for a moment iiTesoIute ; but hearing so many persons whisper about getting seats, she thought she might endeavour to obtain a place in the ladies' gallery, under the naive impression that she could thence survey ber father, and run down to meet him when he should come out. A member whom she knew was passing at that moment. She stopped him, lifting her veil, and proffered her request Now ladies are supposed to have their names drawn by lot when they desire to witness a debate ; and on important occasions one lady will get herself proposed by several members, and be drawn for under half a dozen different names to increase her chances. But for the wife of a Peer and Cabinet Minister admission can gen- erally be procured through the Speaker without this formality. Either some lady who was entitled to a sent has not come, or some other lady, not finding the pro- ceedings funny, has retired after th3 first quarter of an hour ; or, failing this, admission is given in the hope — not always realized — that the ladies upstau's will kindly squeeze themselves a little to make room for the intruder. In short, for a " Grand Dame " a place is always found somewhere. So the member — he was young and commercial — having scuttled away for a moment, returned hat in hand ; and, proud to be seen playing cavalier to a pretty peeress, escorted Maiy down a maze of passages till they reached a succession of staircases, and at length one narrow staircase, covered with a mulberry-coloured carpet, which led straight to the Ladies' Gallery. A crimson curtain protected the entrance of this sanctum, and the young and commercial M. P., having drawn it aside, Mary found herself in a sort of overgrown pew, in which about fifty mem- bers of her sex were enjoying themselves with fans, and staring through an iron grating at some six hundred legislators of the nobler gender, lolling decorously on the back seats below, with their hats on. The seats were arranged in blocks, and Mary's attendant conducted her to the central block, reserved to Mr. Speaker's nominees, and to the front row in tjiat block. Eveiy seat was filled, and at sight of a new comer most of the fair occupants spi-ead out their dresses, to intimate that there was not room for a mouse, so that there was a moment's doubt as to whether Mary would not have to turn hack. But Heaven he praised that we are a court- eous people ! for a fat lady, with about a pound of flowers in Jier bonnet, having overheard the young and commercird M. P. ejaculate, wretchedly, " Dear me, your ladyship, what shall we do ?" instantly tugged at the tail of his coat : " Mr. Jipples, if her ladyship would like my seat, she's welcome. My hus- band brought me to hear him speak ; br.t tliej' tell me that the 'Ouse will go ou sitting till to-morrow morning, and that my husband won't speak maybe till mid- night ; and I can't wait all that weaiy while, having scarce broke my fast this morning." *' I am sure it's raost obliging of you, Mrs. Sholefiddle, answered the confused Mr. Jipples ; and sinking his voice to a whisper, he added, " It's for Lady May- rose." "Lady Mayrose !" echoed the wife of the member for Billingsgate, while Mary passed her with a bow and a few words of thanks. But as Mrs. Sholefiddle's ex- clamation was uttf red in a tone of astonishment and aloud, it caught the ears of several other ladies, who communicated it to others farther off, so that in a mo- ment Mary found a score of double eye-glasses turned in her direction, as if every- body present knew her, and regarded her as an object of curiosity. 189 CHAPTER XVIII. THE ADJOURNED DEBATE. The ladies in the House of Commons gallery regarded Mary as an object of curiosity, because just before her arrival the names of her father and her husband had been alluded to in very audible tones by one of the spectatresses — Lady Bella- donna, or Albert Drone. Talkative Lady Belladonna, who knew everything, and seldom cared to keep secret what things she knew, had been retailing in a confidential falsetto to Mrs. Coney Bussle, who sat near her, the story of Sir Ham's quarrel with his son-in-law, such as she had heard it from some one who got it from Colonel Dandelion, the "Whip." " You could have knocked the Colonel down with a feather, my dear, when that city man came to tell him that ho was going to speak against the Bill. It seems he and his son-in-law must liave fallen out aboiit the number of shares which L )rd Mayroso was to have in the Loan." " I suppose Lord Mayrose wanted thorn all," remarked Mrs. Coney Bussle, in the wfcU-modulated tone of a fog-whistle. " There's no saying, my dear ; at all events the city man was almost foaming at the mouth, but you know a member can't speak unless he arranges with the ' Whip,' for it's the Whips who draw up the lists for the Speaker, and if a member has not been written down beforehand, the Speaker does not let his eye fall on him. So the city man came, as I said, to the Colonel, but it appears there's a plot afoot to prevent liim from speaking, lest he should abuse Lord Mayrose in public, which would, of course, be a great scandal." " I think the plot to hinder Sir Ham from speaking out his mind is a greater scandal still," rejoined Mrs. Cone; Bussle, still screeching. " Tiiftt may be, my dear, but there are always plots in Parliament," answered honest Lady Belladonna, with a recollection, perhaps, of Lord Baibie Drone having occasionally joined in such uecessarj.' manoeuvres. " Sir Ham is down to speak among the last, bxit it appears the C:)lonol will contrive to draw him out of the House on some pretext, so that he may lose his turn, and they hope the debate will be concluded this evening, becaUi^e the Opposition are afraid to speak much against the Bill, and the Ministerialists want to get it into Committee as quicUy as possible." A lady who was sitting some places removed from Lady Belladonna had been listening very attentively to her words, and after the above conversation she rose and glided out of the gallery into the ladies' refreshment room, where she wrote a hurried note, and begged the attendant to have it carried to Sir Ham Pennywod- dle. This lady was Grace Marvell. It was during her short absence from the Gallery that Mary entered, and consequently Grace did not see her. When she returned she found her place usurped by a lady who liad presumed that she was not coming back ; and so, not caring to make a fuss in claiming her own, she set- tled down into a seat further off, and behind Mary, of whose arrival she continued to be unaware. But Lady Belladonna, hearing Lady Mayrose's name, instantly rose from her own seat and bustled to get beside her. The good lady never cold-shouldered an old friend until such time as the old friend might have become harmless ; for she had known some disquieting resurrections of persons who had been considered socially dead and buried, and had uoticod that reti'ibution terribly swift and stern occasionally befell the grave-diggers. Mayrose had been her husband's lieutenant and Mary her protegee — she saw no reason for deserting them so long as they were still powerful and rich and likely to triumph over their foes. So, Imddling up her fan, opera-glass, order paper, and smelling-bottle, like an apronful of eggs, she ap- proached Mary and easily effected a change of scats with Marj''s neighbour. Then, after shaking hands, said, in a motherly tone lower pitched than usual : " My dear, what a sad businesii this enmity is between your husband and our family ! Not that I approve Horuette's conduct ; for though he leads us all, I think he is often very warm-tempered, and was so towards your husband." 190 "Why, what has Loid Hornette tlone?" enquired Mary, innocently, for she had heanl nothing of the Brummel affair, besides which she was abstracted from trying to recognize her father among the mass of heads below. " Dear me!" exclaimed Lady Belladonna, " hasn't your husband told you, my dear ? Well, perhaps he didn't want you to know ; and to be sure it is a slight matter, for these political feuds never last, and that is why I am always opposed to seeing bitterness infused into them. There was Mr. O Shillelaghau, who called himself The O'Shillelaghau of the Swamps, aiul when he voted against the Tweedle- dum Ministry, on the Bog Oak question. Lord Poldoody charged him with being a turncoat, and spoke violently about him at Boodle's. But I said to Poldoody, * My dear lord, pray go and shake hands with that man, for there's no knowing what he may come to. This was just a month before the O'Shillelaghan made his peace with the Ministry and got the Chief- Justiceship of the Irish Divorce Court ; and next year, when the poor Earl's Divorce Case came on for hearing, the O'Shille- laghan remembered Poldoody jjnd summed up so atrociously against him that he couldn't get a verdict, and his wife is now flaunting about the Continent on the allowance of ^4,000 a year — which shows the imprudence of being too energetic in political questions. I told Hornette that story this very morning." "I see Lord Hornette is going to speak now," said Maiy, whose attention to the proceedings underneath the grating had prevented her from heeding Lady Belladonna's flood of tattle ; and hereon Lord IJalbie's wife lapsed mute and brought an opera-glass to bear upon her high and mighty neplicw. The heir of the Drones rose below the gangway with his face turned to the chair, and broke into a cantering discourse, with the dry liaiightiness natm-al to him. He was not a brilliant orator, but he was bold and rasping, and when angry, never stammered. FeeUng a noble contempt for the mob of manufacturers and younger sons who sat round him, he could experience no nervousness, but spoke straight on, cracking his indignant adjectives about him like so many weals with a riding-whip. This was not his maiden speech, and the House hearkened to him with considerable respect, as we always do to those who care not a doit whether we hearken to them or not ; there was indeed something chivalrous in the attitude of this heir to a great English House who stood up manfully for principles which most of his hearers would have defended too had they felt more secure of their seats. Mr. Paramount turned rather uneasily on his bench when some of Lord Hornette's most scornful sarcasms thwacked upon his ears, and on the same occasions Mr. Paradyse's earnest features smiled placidly, for politics is an occupation which stimulates the fine feelings of brotherhood. But Lord Hornette had soou finished lashing Mr. Paramount ; and, plunging into a diatribe against the other members of the Government who were supporting this Bill, he alluded with an incredible outburst of disdain and irony to one whom all the House divined to be the Secre- taiy for Africa. Ho had not proceeded far, however, before a mild gentleman rose from the opposite benches, and baring his head, called Mr. Speaker's attention to a point of order. This mild and orderly gentleman was Mr. Jipples. Knowing that Lady May- rose was in the Gallery, he was too compassionate and gallant to allow her hus- band to be abused in her hearing ; and the fact that he sat on Mr. Paradyse's side, and was there exoffirio an opponent of the Ministry, made no difference in the quietly warm terms of his protest against Lord Hornette's virulence. It may be added that this protest did Mr. Jipples much good in his career, for it has always been remembered of him since that he was an honourable member who advocated moderation in debate regardless of party ties. Indeed, as one event is often enough to impress its stamp on the whole of a man's life, the fact that Mr. Jipples had for- tuitously taken Lady Mayrose into the Gallery, and had by that circumstance been led into recording a protest, has induced him from that date to record many an- other protest ; and nowadays, when an honourable gentleman drops an adjective a trifle too expressive, it is always Mr. Jipples who rises to inquire whether the said adjective is strictly Parhamentary. Baring his well-combed head, then, Mr. Jipples asked of Mr. Speaker whether it was in order " for a noble lord to allude to another noble and absent lord in 191 language of opprobrium ? WTiatever might be tho questions which divided hon- ourable members, he must sav, for his part, that there was but one opinion as to the integrity — he might say the unimpeachable integrity — of all the right honour- able gentlemen who guided or had ever guided Her Majesty's Governments, and this no matter in what House they sat, nor what office they htld, or were ever like- ly to hold." Loud Ministerial cheers, and some less loud from the Opposition, hailed this brave little sortie, and while Mr. Jipples was putting on his hat, Mr. Speaker confessed that the noble lord the member for North Hivcshire had some- what transgressed those bonds which he hoped, and ever should hope, would be maintained for the courtesy of parliamentary del)ate8. Lord Hornette scowled, and bit his lips ; but us it is not good to kick against Mr. Speaker, he stood rebuked, and the remainder of his speech was spasmodic, like a train that has been knocked off its track. Mary Ustened to the speech, to Mr. Jipples' protest, and to the rebuke from the chair, but if Lady Belladonna had not kindly informed her that Mayrose was being pulled to pieces she would not have suspected it ; for her eyes were still roaming anxiously in search of her father. It was difficult to descry him among the sitting crowd, which, seen from above, looks like a forest of beaver hats with boots thrown in for reUef, but at last she perceived him taking a note from one of tho pages who bring glasses of cold water to honourable gentlemen whose throats want moisten- ing. It was in the midst of the Jipples incident. Sir Ham having read the note caught up some papers beside him, threw a glance and a nod towards the Ladies' Gallery, and waddled towards the door. Then Lady Belladonna, who had watched these things through her glasses, ejaculated : " There, my dear, Colonel Dandelion has succeeded in drawing j'our father out of the House to prevent him speaking against the Bill, and really I am glad of it, for when near relatioiis take opposite viows on a question and grow warm over them, it never looks quite proper. But what a clever man that Colonel is my dear ! He has not his equal for managing a ' count-out ' ; and they say that when Mr. Boreham was summoned away to the Highlands by telegram on the very day when he was to have introduced his disagreeable Private Bill to limit the number of beadles at Somerset House, it was the Colonel who had arranged the despatch by circumventing Mrs. Boreham, and making her telegraph that her mother was dying. Poor Mr. Boreham was never very fond of his mother-in-law, you know, and that is why he posted off in such haste, hoping to arrive just as her funeral was being arranged ; but she had nothing but a cold, and I am afraid he has never quite recovered from the disappointment." " But why should Colonel Dandelion want to get my father away ? " asked Mary, to whom all this was no clearer than ink ia a bottle, and who had half risen from her seat to see whither her father went. "Why, my dear, your husband tells you nothing, then!" exclaimed Lady Belladonna in genuine surprise. *' Perhaps it was wrong of me to speak under the circumstances, but you see I thought everyone knew that Lord Mayrose and your fatlier had had a difference, and that your father had threatened to make a long speech." Mary felt ready to ciy at being so little cognizant of what appeared to be com- mon talk. What sort of speech could her father have threatened to make — and why had her husband told her nothing aliout it ? She would have liked to go down stairs and try to rejoin Sir Ham, but she was aware by this time she could never find her way. She sat in misery, taking no interest in the speeches, and repenting of having come to tho gallery at all ; she even wondered whether some rule did not compel her to sic out the whole debate without going home to dinner. But her wretched inaction did not last long. In a few minutes she became conscious that the curtain over the entrance to the gallery was being pulled aside, and, turning round, saw her father in the doorway. He was peering about for somebody, and Mary thought at first it must be for her ; but suddenly a form rose undulating from a neighboring bench, and Mary recognized Grace Marvell. A cold numbness fell upon her at the thought that her father, who had refused to move for her sake, had come up to see Grace ; and at this other thought that Grace had been sitting almost 192 beside her undetected. But without a mument'a deliberation she stood up and followed them both, stumbling rather than running. Sir Ham and Grace had none into thn wcU-t'urnishod little room where mem- bers come up and refresh the ladies whom they know with tea or ices ; and where they often say things much more instructive and amusing than they do in their public speeches. Mary had not seen tho door cluKe behind them, but she instinct- ively opened the first door that came to hand, and entered just as Grace — whose baoK was turned to her — was saying excitedly, " Sir Ham, I hear that there is an intrigue to wile you out of the House by some false news. Whatever note or mes- sage you may receive, unless it be from me, mind you do not leave your place until you have spoken. They are growing; afraid of you, that is the fact, and you will obtain everything you desire by remaining firm.' Sir Ham, scratching his head in a puzzled way, wiis going to reply, but he gave a start, and motioned in alarm to Grace to be silent, for Mary was in the room. Grace had turned sharply round on hearing tho door-handle move, but the handle had only creaked when Mary had loosened her hold of it, and was already across the threshold. With her face flushing and her little frame all trembling from in- dignation, Mary confronted Grace, and stood during a few seconds glaring at her. Then she cried: — "So it's you, Grace — you false-hearted, wicked girl, who are de- ceiving my father, and setting hiui against his daughter !" Grace recoiled under the suddcamess of the shuck. A deep blush and a stony pallor overspread her face in quick succession and she remained for a moment be- reft of speech ; but only for a moment, for it was not the time to lose heart, but to brazen it out. "I am setting your father against no one, Mary," she answered, with an at- tempt at composure. " I am only giving him the advice which an affectionate daughter — fjr which you yourself, in fact — ought to give him." " That is a sinful lie," cried Mary, running to her f.ither, and clinging to his arm. " Papa, do you see that girl ?" she added, pointing her finger at Grace with a denouncing gesture. "She wants to get your money from you in order to marry Prince Casino !" This time Grace lost countenance. The charge came upon her with tho abrupt- ness of a loaded pistol held to her foi-ehead, and she knew not what might come next — so trembled in conscience-stricken terror. But far mure piteous was the effect of this pistol display on Sir Ham. He gave a sort of jump, and the blood flowed to his neck and cheeks in an apoplectic tide, while his eyes looked as if they w«uld burst out of his head as they fastened themselves with scared interrogation on Grace. "Hold -your tongue, Mary," he gasped, with a movement as if he would strike her. " Grace, say summit," he stammered, wildly. "She has nothing to say, papa," raved Mary, placing one arm across her father's chest, and continuing to point the other hand at Grace's frightened face. " She and that Italian have entered into a plot to rob you. I don't know what they have said to blind you. but Grace almost confessed to me that she was in love with the Prince, and as neither of them has a penny, they are ready to ruin and disgrace you for their own profit." "Don't believe that. Sir Ham," panted Grace, who had now recovered so far as to see that it was a life-and-death game she was playing, and who looked won- drously beautiful as she turned with all the splendour of wrath upon her accuser. " Mary calumniates me because she knows it is her own husband who has designs upon your fortune, and would thwart you from everything which he fears may di- minish his heritage." The poor City Knight stood irresolute. The anguish of doubt had brought huge drops to his brow ; and tho jealousy wliich now for the first time gnawed his heart wrung his lips with a contortion horribly wry. But Grace's voice exercised a spell over him which he could i;ot break — the less so aa he had no wish to break it — so once more he passionately endeavored to thrust Mary away from him, and mumbled : " I believe you Grace, not Mary ; 1 know we've enemies, and it's your husband, Mary, wants to keep me from making profit out of them Rio-Brigandians; 198 and I wish I hadn't married you to him, but I uaed to think he waa a well-behaved young man — which he i»n't." But Maiy was nut to be pushed away from her father. " Enemies !" she ex- claimed, in wild reproach. ''You have no enemies, papa, but that girl. I see it all now— her fiendish treachery, her crafty plot to draw yon into her meshes by fawning flatteries and by poisoning your mind against all who BUBi)ected her. She must have laid her plans ever since I brought her into our house ; and, oh that (iod would send some proof to open your eyes like mine." Such angry pravers are not always heard, but they sometimes are. There was at this mumeut a knock at the door, and a mesBsnger came in with evident astonish- meut to Hee ouch signs of fluster on the faces of the three faHhiouable occupants of the room. Ue held a noie in his hand, and enquired, apologetically : — " Is there a lady of the uamo of Miss Marvell here ? A gentleman. Prince Casino I think the name wus, asked me tu bring up this note, and ask for an answer." Grace became paler than snow, and clutching at the back of a chair to keep herself from fulling, held out a hand for the note, but with a rapid dart Mary fore- stalled her, and seized it. She motioned to the surprised messenger to withdraw, then holding the letter out of Grace's reach, cried in a voice that quavered with exultation : " If what I have said is not true, you can have no objection to letting my father boo tlie contents of this note. You say you are like a daughter to him I " Sir Ham shall see the note, but not you,' faltered Grace, who would have wrested the note from Mary by main force had she dared, but who, being restrained by Mary's father, looked near fainting. " Very well, then, let my father read it," agreed Mary ; and she handed the note to Sir Ham. CHAPTER XIX. A CHALLENGE IN THE OLD STYLE. The note which Mary handed to her father looked a lover's note all over. It was in a white triangular envelope, with a Ught blue border, and had in guise of a seal a coloured pansy, surmounted by a Prince's coronet. English people use such envelopes in correspondence with persons towards whom they stand in most affec- tionate relationship : none but an Italian would have thought of employing one in writing to a young lady whom he could compromise. Sir Ham turned the gallant trifle over in his fingers with a mute stupor ; out he did not even cast an apologetic glance ut Grace before opening it, so distracting was the jealousy which now pos- sessed him. He broke the seal, but as soon as he had set eyes on the paper, stared with a blank expression, " It's writ in a furrin' tongue," said he helplessly. Grace, mustering up a renmant of fortitude, threw an appealing look at the Knight, and volunteered to read the note and translate it faithfully ; but jealousy is the one passion against which appealing looks avail nothing. Sir Ham passed the letter nervously to Mary, whom but a minute before he had ordered out of his sight and Mary rapidly scanned, and — thanks to her Brighton school training — was ena- bled to read aloud what follows : — " Cauihsima Sionohina, " Sou venuto in grande prescia a dirvi che e ratglio che il Cavaliere Pennywoddle non parla sta sera. Sono state avertito che un discorso sarebbe permziuso a la causa cbe abbi- amo {.utti due a cuore. Conto a la vostra buoua asaistenza in questo aiTare, e se potete ilarmi cinque miuuti di conversazioDe, vi spiegero delle ragioni cbe non posso mettre in una lettera. " liaciando vostre mani belle, " lo sono, " Signorina, " Vostro umillimo adoratore, " BuBiNO DEI Casino." 13 194 " Ho calls'ihor ' darling,' savs you must not upeak to-night because it would do harm to the affair which ' they both have at heart' — that is the Loan, I suppose — and concludes by kissing her pretty hands and signing himself ' the humblest of her adorers ' — those are his very words ! " exclaimed Mary, exultingly. " 'Gariflsima ' doesn't mean 'darling.' You know Italiars use superlatives to everybody," exposttilated Grace, whose brow burned as if she had boon struck. " They use superlatives, but they don't kiss everbody's hand," rejoined Mary, with withering contempt ; and this appeared to be the opinion of Sir Ham, whose face had become cadaverous, and whose fists were clenched ragefully. There were no signs of relenting in his expression at that moment — nothing but anger and the violent sorrowing amazement of a duped old man. Seeing it would bo useless to attempt any vindication of herself in face of the knight's pro- sent mood, and with the letter seeming to bear clear evidence of her guilt, Grace had recourse to an attitude of offended dignity. She released her hold of the ch'.ir to which she had clung for support, abruptly shook off her faintness, and held out her hand for the note. '• Will you give me my letter, please. Lady Mayrose ? and, Sir Ham, after what has occurred, you will not suppose that I can remain in your house a day longer. I had hoped that my efforts to requite your past kindness by showing you all the devotion in my power would have Ijeen better appreciated ; but I ought to have been prepared for calumny. I will only add that you cannot now withdraw from the Loan, and that if you wish to make it profitable, you will do well to beware of the advice of people whose o'.jject8 are more selfish than mine." With this parting shot she swept towards the door. If she had hoped by her threat of leaving Sir Ham's house to cause him a last twinge, she effected her pur- f)08e, for the knight uttered a moan and stammered something. But Mary was at mud to protect him against his > iwn weakness. So Grace went out unchecked, and five minutes afterwards Mary and her father descended the staircase together. ho leaning on her arm, with a lost look in his puzzled gooseberry eyes, and appear- ing to having aged ten years in as many minutes. When they reached Palace Yard, Mary dismissed her father's brougham and made him get into her own carri- age ; then she drove him to Berkeley Square with the intention of keeping,' him there till Mayrose should come in, and then bring about his reconciliation witii her husband. But meanwhile the gallant Prince Casino, unconscious author of the scene in the tea-room, was anxiously pacing about the small yard in front of Mr. Speakers residence — which is the yard nearest to the Ladies' Gallcrj' — and waiting for Grace. It was Colonel Dandelion's good management that had brought the Prince to come here and lay a veto on Sir Ham's speaking. The astute " whip," casting about for •a means of preventing the member from Hivesworth from assailing the Cabinet in which his son-in-law sat, had bethought him that the Italian Prince, being by all accounts much interested in the Loan, would have the most influence over Sir Ham ; and accordingly he had communicated with him, giving the Prince to understand that if Sir Ham made himself unpleasant to Government, all chance of Rio-Brigande's recognition would be at an end. He did not commit himself to the converse of this proposition — namely, that if Sir Ham made himself pleasant, Rio- Brigande would be recognized ; but Prince Casino had great faith in the sub aiulHi promises of negotiation ; beside which, it was uuadvisable on all grounds that Sir Ham should make himself unpleasant. So the well-oiled Prince paced about the yard in patent leather boots, very light trousers, and flesh-coloured gloves ; and every now and then he paused, soft- ly humming " La donna e mobile," and consulting a jewelled watch scarcely bigger than a shilling. The messenger had assured him that his note had been delivered into Miss Marvell's own hands, and that Sir Ham Pennywoddle had been present ; but the Prince drew no uneasy inferences from Sir Ham's presence, because in the first place the latter could not reud Italian, and in the next, because the messenger had not said — being unaware of the fact — that the second lady was Lady Mayrose. After waiting half an hour, therefore, the Prince began to wonder at Grace's non- appearance, and was on the point of starting another messenger when he was con- 196 would do mppose — imblest of rlativoH to nick, ed Mary, tn, whose — nothing Seeing it ifjht's pre- ilt, Grace the ch'.ir I held out am, after use a day iwinfT you [ ou^ht to withdraw o well to nd by her d her pur- kry was at mcliecked. 3 together, id appear- ed Palace own carri- jping him i witli her scene in Speaker's "or Grace. e to come about for Cabinet in ing by all over Sir Prince to chance of self to the Rant, Rio- sub aiulifi Is that Su- (oots, very used, soft- iely bigger delivered II present ; use in the messenger Mayrose. ace's non- was con- fruntod by the niau whom, under actual circumstances, hu was loast desirous of meeting — that is, Mayrusc himsulf. Mayruse au^roachod the Prince with quick stops, as if ho had Ihjoii aware that ho should find nmi in this yard, bowed to him, and said, poromptorily, " Prince, I want to havo a few words with you." Now tho Prince did not liku our friend's tono, nor hail ho anv reason to. In- stead of going into the House of Comuiuns to hoar Lord Hornottu speak, ^^yrosa had been spending a couplu of hours in interrouating divers peers and Ministerial friends as to tho Hourcu.H whence thoy had hoard of liis boinu mixed up with tho Loan ; and tho result of those interrogations was that ho had resolved to take sum- mary action. Tho rumours n.gi^iiist him, fanned by political animosity, and l)y tho babblosome tongues of the Itoudoir Cabal, were growing too serious to be over- looked ; and Mayrose had come to see that, after all, tho way to contradict these slanders was not by folding his arms and lotting people talk. It had been Mosy for him to ascertain that Prince Casino had taken his name in vain, and accordingly it was with the Prince that ho determined to begin. However, just ha he was going into tho writing room to despatch a note of appointment to 'ho Italian, ho was run after by Colonel Dandelion, who brietly explained to him how Ji , houjiht ho should be able to restrain Sir Ham from " making a duffer of himself.*' i ho Colonul add- ed that he had just scon Prince Casino, who had sent up a few linos to somebody in the Ladies' Gallery having a great hold over Sir Ham. 'id In c(mclu(' .1 thia somebody was Sir Ham's wife. Mayrose, concluding ditfi itly, net off u. uncc in (juest of the Prince, and that is how he came to surpriso him in t)i • su.-ail yard. "A few wo. I- I 'til yu, Prince," ho repeated in tho tono am h English no- blemen can assume when thoy are angry, and which made tliu kalian's oai.i feel hot ; "I , .ar you havo been bandying my name about society in connection with a disreputable Loan — you well know that I havo no part in that aflaii." "Milord, I deed not deonk to offoiid you. I cannot remombor usinu \'our name," stammered the Italian, his pronunciation running altogether wild from the suddenness of his emotion. "You appear to havo told Lord Hornette in the dining-room of tho ' Brum- uiel,' and in hearing of .several gentlemen, whom I can produce as witnesses, that I was abetting your schomes, and expected to derive profit from them. In doing this you laid yourself <^pon to a criminal prosecution, and I havo now to remind you that, OS a Secretary of State, I can sign a warrant for your arrest, and havo ym taken to Newgate." This time the Prince's rosy face turned to the joyless hue of a suet dumpling, and he felt as though his shiny boots had been made much too small for him. The powers of Ministers in Continental countries are unpleasantly extensive, and it took Rubino deiJCasiuo a good minute before ho could recollect that the Uahmn Corjm.i 01 England sh^ds its protection over foreigners and natives alike. " You joke, milord," he muttered, yet very gulpingly, as ho called this to mind. " I am 80 far from joking that I am going to remind you of something else," continued Mayrose, quietly. "You have undertaken, from motives best known to yourself, to make my father-in-law issue a loan of four millions for a bankrupt country. In tho present state of our laws it is unfortunately not in the puwor of Government to prohibit this swindle — yes, swindle is the only word by which I can characterize it — but we can publish in tho Loiulon Gazette a statement of the politi- cal and financial condition of Rio-Brigande, and warn the public to embark no capital in a country which has repudiated three loans already." " Ah, Dio, milord, you would not do that I" ejaculated the Prince, in groat terror. " You would wholly ruin the Loan, and, vat is more, ruin Sir Penny- woddle ; for he has signed all the papers, and the loan vill be issued next week. If the public do not buy tho scrip, your respected father-in-law will have to pay the entire money out of his own pocket and become bankrupt. Dat is vat he vill become." " I am sorry for it ; but I have to think of the pubUc whom your prospectuses will dupe, before considering my father-in-law," answered Mayrose drily. " This matter, however, is not one on which I require your advice. What I have to 196 demand of you is that you shall come with me at once and retract, in the presence of Lord Homette, the preposterous aspersions you have cast on me, failing which, I shall this very evening instruct my jlicitor to prosecute you for slander and con- spiracy. And, mind, I would carry such an affair through against you, if it cost me twenty thousand pounds!" The Itahan gave a slight shiver, and his countenance was a study. He and Mayrose were standing in the centre of the small, dark yard, with gre^ walls tower- ing high above them, and showing a glimpse of blue sky as small as if seen from the bottom of a well. Tliey had not stirred since their dialogue had commenced, and the Italian now looked as if he were rooted to the gutta percha flooring. He evinced no disposition whatever to obey Mayrose's order — indeed, he shifted his SoUshed leather boots, and grinned a supplication, half-fawning, half-bumptious, tut Mayrose threw him a glance that wiped away his grins like a spoonful of vine- gar, and with an imperative jerk of the hand, said : " Come, sir, no nonsense ; follow me immediately." The Prince followed, and assuredly no whipped cur ever cut such a figure as this startled Italian, but an hour before the most enchanting foreigner in all London. He could not realize wliat had befallen him. That any Minister — that any noble- man on earth — should prefer the interests of that stupid concrete mass called the pubhc to his own interests — to the honour and comfort of a wealthy father-in-law — seemed to him incredible. He had heard of British eccentricity, but had found little of it in monetary concerns ; and of a truth this beat anything he had read of, even in books. If he could have suspected things would have turned out like this, he would have had nothing to do with tlie Loan. But how could he have suspected it ? In any other country, a rich capitalist, a pretty woman, a confiding public, and a powerful Minister related to the capitalist and having every reason to keep on good terms with him, would have formed the factors of a quotient out of which a clever man in league with the pretty woman might have cleared any amount of gain. Prince Rubiuo dei Casini was aghast to think that Nature having in a freak fabricated an incorruptible Minister, he, of all persons, should have been the man to light upon him ; and that, further, this Minister was now putting forth his might to belabour him. By the time he had reached the members' private lobby, having threaded a labyrinth of gorgeously-coloured painted corridors unknown to him, he passed his flesh coloured gloves over his eyes, thinking ho must be in a dream. But his eyes were soon opened. In the lobby Mayrose was hurriedly accosted by several noblemen and by little Sir Tito Tumb, who apprised him of the abuse in Lord Homette's speech, of the Jipple protest, of the Speaker's rebuke, and of the intense excitement into which everybody had been thrown. Mayrose did not listen, but begged Sir Tito to ask Lord Homette and Lord Balbie Drone to come for a moment into one of the private rooms, where he would liave something of import- ance to say to them. He added the request that Sir Tito himself should come with them to witness the interview, and, perceiving Lord Beaujolais, beckoned to him, and enlisted him as second witness. Sir Tito Tumb, who had been struck by the hang-dog appearance of Prince Casino, and suspected that something queer was ' rowing, strutted off on his mis- sion ; and it transpired later that Lord Homette had made a difficulty about s^nswering Mayrose's summons ; bixt, yielding to persuasion or curiosity, he came at last, escorted by his uncle, on whom, by the way, was to devolve the responsi- bility of dividuig the House on the Sufi'rage Bill, to the old tune " that this Bill be read a second time this day six months." Mayrose had betaken himself to one of those private rooms of which thore are several for the accommodation of M. P'f- and Peers ; and where one can rely on being alone for at leart a few minutes — that is, till sDme Irishman opens the door, looks round, and begs pardon. Lord Hurnette walked in composedly, lifted his hat to Mayrose, as if he had never seen him before, and stood, with a supercilious stare, waiting. But Mayrose was not inclined to be pompous or formal with this old schoolfellow, who, he thought, was making a fool of himself, and so said : — "Homette, Prince Casino made you some statements the other day which he is going to retract." J presence Qg which, r and con- it cost me He and ills tower- I from the need, and ring. He ihit'ted his lumptious. ul of vine- nonsense ; I, figure as II London, any noble- called the r-in-law — had found ad read of, ike this, he ! suspected ing public, )n to keep t of which amount of [ in a freak tn the man 1 his might by, having to him, he dream. y accosted le abuse in nd of the not listen, ome for a of import- come with ed to him, of Prince m his mis- ilty about he came respousi- Ihis Bill be 1 thore are lu rely on the door, ted his hat ious stare, h this old which he 197 " Yes, mon cfter Hornette, stammered the Italian, crimson with humiliation, yet with the graceful impudence which never quite deserts his countrymen when they have been up to a dog's trick, and are having their noses rubbed in the conse- quences. " Mon cher I told you that milord Mayrose was going to get Rio-Bri- gande recognized for Sir Pennywoddle, and that he would have shares in the Loan. it is a mistake." " He tells you so, Cass, but I don't believe him,'" w.u Lord Hornette's care- less answer. The right honourable company present started, and little Sir Tito, who was wearing a blue neckerchief with white spots, tugged at the same in his amazement, and untied it. " Come, come, since Mayrose assures you of it on his word of honour," inter- posed Lord Beaujolais, not a little disgusted ; and worthy Lord Balbie, too, glanc- ing down at his boots — which were shockingly bad boots — mumbled something about this being "inconsiderate." " T have expressed my opinion," rejoined Lord Hornette, drumming coldly on the back of a chair, " and nothing that Prince Casino can say will make me al- ter it." • " You mean to say, then, that you give the lie to my word of honour ?" in- quired Mayrose, grown livid. "I do," replied Lord Hornette, with all the contempt he could infuse into words. If they had been in the country— anywhere, indeed, but in the House of Par- liament — Mayrose would have knocked him down. As it was. Lord Beaujolais, who feared mischief from the impulsive step forward which Mayrose made, inter- posed with outspread arms. Mayrose, to restrain himself, plunged a hand in the breast of his coat, and did so with such violence, that his glove was torn from the thumb to the wrist against a waistcoat button. " You are cither a dolt or a vicious character, Hornette," he said, trying to contain his anger ; " but in any case I now warn you, in the presence of these gen- tlemen, that if you slander me again, you will do so at your peril. I don't know what infatuation has possessed you of late, but you have been as full of scandal and mischief as an old woman, and, as accident has placed you in a position where you have power to do harm, it is time you should be brought to your senses. " '• Not by you, I suppose ?" retorted the Earl, with a derisive laugh. " By me," answered Mayrose, fa?t losing his temper; "and since you seem disposed to defy me, I tell you now that, unless I receive an apology from you, I shall hold you answerable for what you hare already aaid and done. I cannot fight you so long as I am in office, nor can I resign until the Session is over, for I have public work to do ; but at the end of the Session you shall beg my jiardon, «r I will resign and meet you in France. An expression of exultation and hate passed over Lord Hornette's sallow fea- tures, clearing all the frowns from them. '"' You will meet me in France, Mayrose ? That is a promise you give me — in the bight of Loid Beaujolais and Sir Tito Tumb." "No promise; nothing of the sort. What stuff and nonsense !" exclaimed little Sir Tito, retying his neckerchief, in consternation, and Lord Beaujolais cried in a flutter : " A duel — fiddlesticks I just shake hands and have an end of this bosh. Here, Mayrose, put out your hand — hang it." " It's a promise ; for I have had enough of these cowardly attacks," ejaculated Mayrose, puslung back Lord Beaujolais, and letting his indignation get the control of him; "you hear what I have said, Hornette — I ^ nsider you have disgraced yourself ; and Beaujolais and you. Sir Tito, I rely on your honour not to let any- thing of this interview get abroad." " That is better than I expected," said Lord Hornette, still in a hostile tone, but this time without contempt ; " There i^- something more between us, Mayrose, than these trumpery money matters, about which I care not a rush. From this time I shall say nothing more about you ; only, by this day six weeks, one or other of us will be past talking about." « ^^■ 198 With these grandiloquent words Lord Homette strode out of the room, and by-and-bye sat down to dine with a much better appetite than he had enjoyed for some days. He even made a five hundred guineas bet with his brother about the Goodwood, though he hated bets ; and at the proper time voted in the minority against the Suffrage Bill with a fairly cheerful face. Let it be mentioned for the guidpnce of historians that the division on the second reading of this great Bill took place at 3:20 in the morning, and that by 500 votes to 75 the House of Commons decided to confer the right of voting on every male and female subject of Her Majesty having attained the age of twenty-one without suffering imprisonment or penal servitude. As for Mayrose, he walked away with Lord Beaujolais and Sir Tito Tumb, both plaintively upbraiding him for having courted Kuch an outlandish thing as a duel. Mayrose himself felt that he had been hasty, but he did not think the duel would ever come off, for he reasoned that when Lord Homette discovered for certain that he had had nothing to do with the Loan, that upright though cantankerous Earl would have the manliness to apologise. If, however, it were fated that he should meet Lord Hornette, Mayrose was just then in such a mood that he would have shot a bullet with pleasure through the head of the man wBo had prevented him from marrying Zellie Carol. He soon left his two friends, and sought for his precious father-in-law ; but learning that he had left the House of Commons, went home to dinner, deferring conversation with Sir Ham till later in the evening ; for he was resolved to dispose of the knight as he had disposed of Lord Hornette and the Prince. Mayrose had been quite in earnest in his threat about the London Gazette, and he was also deter- mined to have his alleged connection with the Loan denied in Parliament. This cotild easily be done by arranging that a friendly peer and an M.P. should each ask in their respective Houses whether it was the intention of the Government to recog- nize Rio-Brigande, and a pair of Mayrose's colleagues would emphatically answer that the Cabinet had come to a nnauimous decision (laying sti'ess on the unanimous) not to recognise the bankrupt and revolutiouarj' State in question. In all this Mayi'ose was actuated by the sincere belief that the Loan was an absurdity and a swindle ; but there is no denying that the thought that he was trying to blast a speculation in which Sir Ham had probably already embarked his fortune without possibility of retreat, caused him some inward twinges. He had married Mary for money, and chiefly to get back the Springfield estates which his father had. But those estates were still in Sir Ham's possession — Mary's dower having consisted of cash and Oyster-Shell Shares — and in running counter to Sir Ham's interests Mayrose was therefore jeopardising his own, and doing a magnani- mous thing by no means common in these years of grace. So he arrived home, brooding over all this ; but, as soon as he was in, Mary ran down to meet him, and exclaimed with wifely joy: — "Oh, Freddy, dear, papa is here in the library I I have been speaking to him, and he is going to make it up with you ; but yon won't mind, dearest, telling him that you are sorry if you said anything to hurt him, for he is so unhappy ? " "Certainly, my dear child," said Mayrose, much relieved, and wondering whether, after all, this accursed business could not be got rid of somehow ; and he allowed his wife to lead him into the library. But lo ! in the library there was no Sir Ham. Astonished, they looked for him in the dining-room, but he was not there, They sought him under the sofa, and called his name in the passages, bi\t there came no reply. Poor Mary was beside herself. " Oh dear, dear ! this is too bad," she wailed. " Papa told me that he wanted to write a letter, and I left him here whilst I went up to change my dress." This was correct enough ; but finding himself alone in the library, Sir Ham had slunk out of the house. 199 room, and njoyed for about the 3 minority ed for the it Bill took Commons 3ct of Her Dnment or 'umb, both : as a duel, luel would ertain that srous Earl he should ould have ented him -law ; but , deferring to dispose lyrose had also deter- ent. This d each ask t to recog- lly answer ■naninKivs) m was an at he was barked his He had which his y's dower .ter to Sir magnani- in, Mary [ear, papa aake it up you said vondering and he ooked for r the sofa, Mary was le wanted Sir Ham CHAPTER XX. "till death vb do part." Sir Ham had slunk home because he was but feeble flesh and blood, not steel. He had given the whole of hia old simple foolish heart to Grace Marvell, and her hold of it was not one that could be loosened by mere accusations, however well substantiated. Indeed, what does substantiation matter in such c&:es ? When the lover is a doting old man, the girl's cause is won, though the entire world conspire to prove her guilty. If she defends herself, her lover will believe her rather than thousands of contrary or.ths ; if she cannot defend herself, then he will, out of his blind passion, forge hundreds of excuses that will absolve her at least in hia eyes. This is what Sir Ham had been doing from the moment when Grace had an- nounced that she should leave his house. He could not bear that she should leave him. Whilst alone with his daughter Mary, and listening to the revilings she poured forth with unstinting tongue against Grace, the thought that Grace might all this while be packing up or going was a searing torture to the knight, and at length proved too much for his fortitude. He did not know by what name to call the sentiment that attached him to thia girl ; all he knew was that she was neces- sary to his life — that he would mope away into idiocy if she were taken from him. He went determined to accept any excuaea she might oflFer — to believe them if they had a shadow of probability, and to pretend to believe them if they had not. Nay, if Grace braved him and ccmfessed her duplicity, he felt that he should throw himself at her feet and sue for her pardon, imploring her in pity to remain with him, whether she felt any affection for him or not. There is no depth of self-abasement into which love will not push men at Sir Ham's time of life. Grace had assumed her empire over him by acts of flattery, which do more than Capuan odours to effeminate a man ; and, now that he was about to lose her, the image of her beauty rose up before the wretched knight with a power of seduction irresistible. His excited senses brought back to him the per- fume of her hair, the rosy freshness of her lips half-parted, the lustrous langour of her eyes, deep, smooth, and mysterious as velvet, and the musical accents of her voice when she coaxed him ; and all this tilled him with a sullen angry resentment — the beginning of doTvnright hate — against Mary for exposing Grace. For after all why could not Mary have left him his illusions if she were a good daughter and really concerned about his happiness ? She must have known that it is no kind- ness to open our eyes to the blemishes of those we love. The hansom which Sir Ham had taken off the stand in Daviea street trotted towards Kensington all too slow for the infatuated, impatient lover, and when it reached his door, Sir Ham scrambled out and tossed the driver a sovereign without waiting for the change — a very unusual freak, for ordinary emotions left him quite enough presence of mind to look after sixpences. He fearfully opened the door with his latch-key and sprang upstairs to the drawing-room, where Lady Pennywoddle lay on a red satin sofa telling herself it was about time to go and dress for dinner. The good lady had spent an afternoon in her favourite pastime of reading the breach of promise cases in the Reporter, but her anxiety about the quarrel between her husband and Mary had prevented her from taking her customary delight in this literature, and as soon as she saw the knight she exclaimed : — " Ham, my dear, Mary has been here, and I hope you hare seen her. The poor child was grievin', and it went to my heart, it did." "Where's Grace ?" asked Sir Ham, curtly, as if he would choke. " I think she's upstairs, dear," answered Lady Pennywoddle, alarmed by his expression. " She's not gone, then?" " Gone ! no, my dear ; I heard her return some time ago, and wondered she didn't come in to me. Shall 1 go for her ?" " No. Jane, ye'd better go and dress for dinner ; I've summit private and 200 partic'lar to say to Grace." And hereon Sir Ham straddled to the bell, and pulled it with such force that it brought up a footman )ia promptly as if it had been the spring of a Jack-in-the-box. " Is Miss Marvell at home ?" stuttered the knight. " Yes, Sir Ham." "Then go and tell her to come 'ere — at leabt — no," added he, correcting him- self ; " go and ask her if she will favour me with an interview for a few minits." The footman vanished, and Lady Pennywoddle rose to go to her room. As she passed her husband she laid a hand on his shoulder, looking wistfully into his face, and ho impatiently requested her to leave him. Many and many a time, and for long afterwards — in truth, to his dying day — he remembered the loveless words he had then addressed to the poor woman who had been the companion of his life — his never failing friend, help, and comforter. Slie went out uncomplainingly, and when she had gone. Sir Ham paced about the drawing-room like a disturbed bear in a cage. Now Grace Marvell was waiting for Sir Ham, and yet not daring to hope that he would come back to her and make his peace, for it is only in Balsac's novels that women feel so sure of their power as to know that men will always return and cringe to them. She had been asking herself with sickening dismay what was to become of her it she left Sir Ham's house in disgrace. Prince Casino had hinted no word about making her his wife. He had flirted with her and whispered hyper- bolic Italian compliments into her ear ; but she guessed from intuition into his character that he would never talk of marriage unless she could bring him a large dower. For all which she loved him not the less, but the more, as is generally the case with women. There was ambition and stung vanity in her love. Seeing him captivated by her beauty, but not wholly subjutjated by it, she longed to conquer his deeper affections — to render him her slave before she became his wife. But how could she do this if she were driven froni Sir Ham's house as an out- cast ? She had saved a few hundred pounds out of Sir Ham's generous gifts for pin- money, but bes' ''.es this and her jewels she had nothing. She would not even be able to pay for her father's maintenance in the asylum, and there would be no course open to her but to return to Mrs. Legges' sordid lodging-house in Surrey- street. This in itself was terrifying to her, for she could not break with those habits of luxury which she had so lavishly indulged under Sir Ham's roof. She had been the virtual mistress of the knight's house, and was cheerfully obeyed by the servants as such. She had her own carriage, her maid, a special footman for her own service ; and glancing round her rooms, was reminded by their tasteful splendour of the brilliant position she had now imperilled. They were a suite of rooms which Sir Ham had caused to be furnished for her by one of those gifted upholsterers accustomed to gratify gentlemen who patronize the drama in the persons of pretty actresses. Rare Indian woods, costly cabinets, Beauvais carpets, bed-curtains, and window-hangings of white figured satins rich enough for the coronation robes of a queen, painted panels and ceilings, ivory and Dresden toilet-table fixtures, dressing-case fittings of pure wrought gold ; all, in short, that art at the service of extravagance could do to beautify these chambers had been done. And Grace's personal apparel was on a similar scale of wealthy profu- sion. It needed a room apart to store her innumerable dresses, which had excited the envy of many a peeress. She counted her bonnets, peignoirs, and pelisses by the dozen ; her linen was so fine that it could have been drawn through a wedding- ring ; the very sheets on her bed were of cambric, and the pillow-cases were hemmed with white borders of precious lace. As for jewellery, Sir Ham had pressed trinkets on her as if he had a diamond mine of his own ; and he had been so far afraid lest she should scruple to order whatever she might need of milliners, glovers, perfumers, and others, that he had instructed these people to bring her unasked all things that were " noo and fash'nable" — an order which they cheerfully obej'ed, being men, every one. It costs women a pang to forsake luxury of this sort, which is the setting in which beauty has assuredly a natural right to be framed. So M'hen Grace's maid, directed by the footman, brought Sir Ham's message she inwardly trembled, feeling that the fate of her life was about to be decided ; 201 ind pulled been the ting him- ninits." •oom. As y into his time, and less words of his life slainingly, disturbed hope that ovals that etum and lat was to lad hinted red hyper- n into his lim a large lerally the seeing him o conquer I. as an out- ■ts for pin- »t even be uld be no n Surrey- with those oof. She »beyed by )tman for ir tasteful si\ for her patronize cabinets, atins rich ivory and d; all, in nbers had ;hy profu- ,d excited elisses by wedding- ises were Ham had had been milliners, jring her jheerfnlly •y of this B framed. message decided ; but her features were composed, for dissimulation is the first polite science learned by her sex. In view of the part she might have to play, she had immediately after her return put on a travelling dress of blue serge with black braiding. She had also taken off all her rings, and only wore round her neck a large gold medallion given to her by her father before his ruin. This metamorphosis was the first thing Sir Ham noticed in her. " Yon have sent for me, Sir Ham," she said coldly. " Yes, Miss Marvell — yes, Grace, ray dear," mumbled the poor knight. *' That was a sorry bis'ness to-day in the tea-room, and I wish to hear no more of it." He had purposed at first to play dignity in the hope that his forgiveness would be begged for ; but the sight of Grace's travelling apparel chilled him to the soul, and Grace easily perceived that he was at her mercy. But though her heart leaped at this discovery of her power, she instantly resolved to repay the anxieties she had endured, and to follow up her advantages in such a way that she should remain mistress of the field to all time. She determined at one stroke to secure her inde- pendence as well as resume her empire. " I must leave your house. Sir Ham," she said, quietly ; " 1 have been insulted in your presence, and I am not so spiritless as to wait to be insulted a second time." "You shan't go I You're a orphan with nobody to 'look to you !" exclaimed the knight, almost barking in his distraction, and getting between her and the door, as if he dreaded her escaping there and then. '* Let anyone dare to insult you, and they'll see ! Mary'll never set foot in my 'ouse again unless she begs your pardon." *' I have been accused of tryins to instigate you against your daughter," con- tinued Grace, with the same calm pride, Vjut inward exultation at the knight's wrath ; ''and I am aware that my dependent position under your roof gives a colour to the imputation." "Dependent ? You're dependent only on my love and my respect, my dear," dribbled the agitated knight. " But see here, Grace, my child, I've been thinking that Loan was half got up by you — I shouldn't have touched it but by your advice — so we'll be partners in it. Half of whatever I win shall be yonr'n. It's a bargain. We'll have it drawn up on stamped peayper by Deedes, the lawyer," This was more than Grace had ventured to expect, but she restrained all ap- pearances of satisfaction. " If I remain in your house, Sir Ham," she answered, slowly, " it would only be out of my infinite devotion to you, and in the hope that I might be of service to yourself and Lady Pennywoddle ; but I should stipulate for myself complete inde- pendence. If I felt any aft'ection for Prince Casino — which I do not " — prudently added she, on seeing what a spasm wrinkled the knight's face — " if I felt a lawful aflfection for the Prince or anybody else, I would concede to no person the right of interfering with me." " Nobodjr shall I " protested the knight, with abject and sorrowful meekness. " You shall love whom you please, if the love of an old man like me ain't enough for you ; but don't leave me, there's a dear — for I — I cm't a-bear it," and two big tears sprang from the knight's eyes, and coursed each other down his miserable face. " Your fatherly love is very, very precious to me, Sir Ham," rejoined Grace, pretending not to notice these tears, but introducing a well-timed quaver into her own voice. " I — I don't know what I ought to say ; but it was not \villingly that I thought of leaving you ;" then breaking off as though she feared to let her emo- tion master her : " As to the Loan, Sir Ham, I am afraid you will be giving it up after all the objections which Lady Mayrose has urged ?" " Let Mary mind her own bis'ness," growled the knight, endeavoring to punch back the tears into his *»yes, for several others had followed the first two. " I'll go on with the Loan because you think well of it, and because you're more than every- body else to me, and we'll be partners, if you stay with me — and you will, won't you, my dear ? — say you will — you see I can't help a'cryin' !" Grace looked as if she were fast relenting, but she did not give an answer. 202 She acted as if a struggle were going on within her, and turned towards the window to hide her agitation. But before her feigned struggle was ended, she ejaculated : " Sir Ham, here is Prince Casino I" She had changed colour as she said this, for the prospect of seeing Sir Ham's jealousy aroused anew if the Prince should enquire after herself was not welcwme at that moment. Sir Ham snambled to the window, and sure enough the Prince was alighting with flurried looks from his brougham ; but almost immediately be- hind him came a second brougham, and another gentleman descended. "That's Dexter !" exclaimed the knight. " I wrote to him last night to say the Reporter shouldn't support this Government any longer, and now he's come about it. We'll get our matters settled for good now. But don't leave the room, please, my dear," he added entreatingly, as Grace was moving to the door, for he probably wished to ascertain, by observing her demeanour towards Prince Casino, that his suspicions had been truly unfounded. So Grace remained, and the two gentlemen came up together — the Prince in woeful plight ; Mr. Dexter irreproachably dressed as usual, and cool as ice. The knight rubbed his eyes until they were red in trying to dry them, bxit he turned his back to the light, so that the traces of his recent emotion were not visible. The Prince went through a hurried smirking bow to Grace, and very keen was the look-out which Sir Ham kept on them the while ; but to his inexpressible j(?y, he detected nothing amorous in this exchange of ci- vilities, the Prince being formal, and Grace cold. He shook hands with the Prince in his turn, a trifle shyly, and then more cordially with Mr. Deleter ; but it was the Prince who began speaking, and with a rush : — ''Ah, illo, Sir Ham ! what an afternoon I Milord Mayroso and Milord Hori- ette are going to fight a duel. " "Well, so much the Ijetter," returned the knight, with stolid wrath, " ana I doan't mind if Lord Hornette kills 'un." " But Milord Mayrose is also goinj; to prevent our Loan," exclaimed the Prince with flustered despair. " He is going to warn j'our British public in the London Gazette. He menaced me with arrest; ho was as one crazy;"' and in dismal, inter- jectional language the Prince reoouuted all that we know, omitting only the episodes where he had been made to eat humble-pie. Indeed, he took care to make himself figure to advantage by assuring that lie had stood up doiightily against Maj'rose's threats. " I said to him, ' Milord, I not fear you, but I hope for your own sake you will do nothing foohsh. Sir Pennywoddle is your father-in-law; if you hinder his Loan he will say you have been ungrateful to him, and go on without minding your London Gazette.' That is what I said to him !" vowed the Italian in con- clusion. " And you were right to speak so, for that Mayrose is a cub !" shouted Sir Ham, who had been unable to keep his seat, but had stamped about with snorts of anger during the Prince's recital. " 1 doan't care a farthin' for the London Gazette, dang me! We've half the press on oiir sif1r>, for we've bought it ap, and I'll go on with the Loan, I tell ye. Prince, so long as I've a name in the city." " I beg to observe. Sir Ham, that you are preparing to take up the cudgels against the Government," remarked Mr. Dexter, who had not yet spoken. "If you do that, we shall all be crumpled up liko paper bags. You wrote to me this morning to attack the Ministry, after we have been standing up for it with energy all through the session. A newspaper cannot spin round in that style." "What I my own noospaper can't do as I choose <'" sang out the Knight, as if astounded. "It is not your newspaper," answered Mr. Dexter, tranquilly; "it is half mine ; and our articles of partnership provide that I shall be editor, and have the sole management of it." " You are not prepared to deny that the Reporter was started with Sir Ham's money?" intervened Grace, coming impatiently to Sir Ham's rescue. " I am not prepared to argue with a lady, least of all with one so omnipotent as yourself," replied Mr. Dexter, with tranquil politeness. " It is a question of fact, sir, not of argument," retorted Grace, reddening at 208 a in con- the epigram. " You would scarcely wish to be classed in tliat too numerous cate- gory of men who forget their benefactors." Mr. Dexter, who had never liked Grace Man-ell, did not deign to state in what category h« wished to be classed, but he addressed Sir Ham again; and a highly animated wrangle ensued, which lasted half-an-hour. It was like steel on one side and hot fire on the other, with the screams of the Italian dashed in tor music. Mr. Dexter was too shrewdly intent on his own interests to care aboiit quarreUing with Government. It has been said that he believed in Mr. Paramount ; now that the Re-porter had enriched him, he held to Mayrose's promise of a seat in the new Parliament, and saw a chance of making a figure in politics by remaining staunch to the Premier. He proposed to Sir Ham to purchase of him the half share that was his ; and the Knight, backed by shakes of the head from Grace, and soon by open interposition on her part, refused. Mr. Dexter then calmly reminded Sir Ham that the obligations resting between them were not so one-sided as was being taken for granted, for that he (Mr. Dexter) had vacated Hivesworth in Sir Ham's interest, thi;s giving him an opportunity which he would not otherwise have enjoyed of entering public life. This was the first time Mr. Dexter had flung his services into Sir Ham's teeth, and he did so without lifting his voice above a well-bred diapason. He sat with his legs crossed, and his features perfectly unruffled ; but his sedateness exasperated Grace, who, forgetting that she had no right to mix in the dispute, exclaimed — " I wonder how you can say such things, Mr. Dexter. You know that you resigned the seat of Hivesworth because you could not have contested it against Sir Ham." " You rather abuse a pretty woman's privilege of saying rash things, Miss Marvell," rejoined Mr. Dexter, in the tone he would have used towards Miss Peg Top, of the Bijou Theatre." " I claim no privilege but that of warning Sir Ham, when people endeavour to take advantage of him," replied Grace, as though she would have been glad to cuff the sardonic editor's ears ; " I have never been taken in by your professions of disinterestedness, Mr. Dexter." " I have by yours, Miss Marvell, and I dare say we have both been in the wrong," he retorted, with a little laugh ; " at all events, the editorship of the Ee- porter was given me by contract, and I will assert my right to it even in a law- court." Prince Casino curled about in his chair like a rasher of bacon on a gridiron. So much jangling and menacing within one day alarmed him, and he threw in a soothing word occasionally, which fell like oil on the fire, and caused everybody to flame up afresh. But at last Sir Ham put an end to the squabble by raising both his hands to his hair as if he meant to lift himself off" the hearthrug, and bawled, ' ' 1 woan't have any more of this ; 1 want my dinner. Dexter, I'll come to visit ye in the momin', and Ave'll see which is the best man ; and Prince, jist you come down to Robgroschens hoffice at eleven ; Jiddledubbin'll be there, and we'll get the Loan without any more of this hanged pother-pother, which makes me mad, it do ? Now, good evening, both of ye." He did not invite Prince Casino to dinner, and the Italian was rather chagrin- ed at the omission, for he hardly knew where to go and dine, after having been forced to apologize publicly, before noblemen and dignitaries. He made his bow sheep-facedly, not being able to get so much as a glance from Grace who studiously averted her eyes from him ; Mr. Dexter took leave with nonchalant courtesy ; and Sir Ham accompanied the pair of them half-way down the staircase to see that he was really going to bo rid of them. Then he returned to the drawing-room, and found Grace standing with an expression of half embarrassment and coyness well assumed. She had sided so actively with the knight that there could be no more ques- tion about her going away. She felt it, and blushed as the old man ran towards her with hands otitstrotched. He took her own hands in his, and forced her back gently towards the sofa, then threw himself on his knees at her feet, rolling his shock of dyed hair in her lap, and covering her fingers with kisses. F|--^ 204 " I said a good deal more to those gentlemen than I ought," faltered Grace with charmingly acted confusion, but I cannot help it, Sir Uam, when I see you attacked." '* Oh ! Grace, can you wonder about my carin' for you more than wife or child," stuttered the old man ; ** we must never part, dearie ; it 'ud break my 'eart, as if you shot me." " You don't caro for me so much aa that," she said, with a pretty pout of re- proach ; "see how savage you were with me to-day, and all about a mere foolish letter ! " " It was owin' to my love, dearie; love crazed mo darling," he murmured, intoxicated by the kisses he continued to drink from her warm soft hands. " I thought I loved you like a daughter, Grace, but I don't ; if I were free you should be my wife— and perhape you'll still be that, dearie ; we mayn't have long to wait — who knows ? " Then Grace mustered all her power and overcame him with the enchantinu; strength of her beauty — that fatal beauty which God has given to woman for the exaltation and damnation of man. She suddenly twined her arms round his neck, looked deep into his eyes and kissed him, whispering, " I love you, too, very — very dearly." The fibres of Sir Ham's heart, his nerves, hia joints, thrilled aa at the touch of a galvanic battery, and there they remained so enwrapped both of them — she in her triumph, he in the ccatacy of his misguided love, that they did not hear a first faint knock at the door, and then a second. It waa Lady Pennywoddle who knocked. Suppoaing* that the interview between her huaband and his visitors, and with Grace, must be over, she had come down to wait for dinner. Twice she knocked, and obtaining no answer, oijenod the door, but even this did not disturb the poor dazed lover and the girl who waa mocking him. She aaw tliem both — perceived he; huaband kneeling, and heard him utter the worda which contained a wiah for her death — and God help the women who are allowed to hear such words in requital for a long life of faithfulness ! Lady Pennywoddle uttered no cry — made no sound ; she gazed with stupor at the scene until she understood it JvU. Till that moment sho had never suspected Grace, because she suspected nobody of wrong — and even now the truth broke upon her with but deadened force, because her mind seemed to part in twain in the sudden anguish of the vision. She turned, leaving the door oppn, and tottered away over the landing, holding out her hands before her like one blinded, for everything appeared dark around, although lights were glaring. In thia way she reached the top of the atair- case, staggered on unknowingly, and missed her footing. There waa the sound of a heavy fall, dull and rebounding, then a groan, uad cries of servants rushing in consternation. "What's that? someone has fallen!" exclaimed Sir Ham, springing up as from a dream ; and Grace rose, too, paling with apprehension, for she noticed the open door. Both hastened out together. The gaslight, mellowed by tinted globes, waa beating down on the rich mir- rora and fiowera of the landing, on the wide staircase covei'ed with a Turkey carpet, and half-way down, on one of the marble borders of the steps it showed a splash of red. There were other splashes lower down ; and in the hall an affrighted group of footmen and maids were lifting a lifeless form. Tliey carried the poor lady into Sir Ham's study and laid her on the sofa softly, and with murmurs of sympathy — their heart paid homage to a good mistress. There was blood on her pale face, her astonished eyes were open, and her lips slightly moved in a parting convulsion. One of the attendants exclaimed that a sash should be thrown up ; but, before any- one could comply, Sir Ham had broken roughly through the circle, and stood by the sofa-side rooted in stupefaction. " Jane !" he cried, in a voice that had noth- ing earthly from its horror and remorse : "Jane, you're not hurt, my dear ? Jane, speak to me !" No, nevermore, misguided husband, nevermore in this life — not again till she 205 meets you face to face, and leads you by the hand to that Seat where we must all kneel some day and plead the miserable weakness of human Hesh in excuse for our errors. CHAPTER XXL HERR ROBOROSCUEN. Baron Moses Guldenstock, the great banker and M. P., entering his offices in Lombard street, said to his no leas baronial partner, Manasses Geltrubber : " De vife of Shir Ham Pennyvoddle is tead." "She has left von great fool vidowed," rei)lied swarthy Geltrubber, peering at the Times' money article. " Pennyvoddle did not use to be von fool," remarked white-headed Gulden- stock, breaking open his letters and dropping them into the waste-paper basket in deliberate succession. " I vondor how it will go now vit dat Rio-Prigande Loan ?" "Von tammed sohvindel," commented Geltrubber. " He came to me for advishe about it— dat vas weeks ago," continued Gulden- stock, pausing at a letter with a ducal coronet on the seal, and which he laid under a paper weight. " Here is the Dook of Nooinarket viints dirty tousand poundsh till hish rentsh come in ." "He takes ush for money-lenders," grumbled Geltrubber, " neverthelesh, if his coal-mine is not mortkaged " " It ishn't ; but after dish loan ve must bass him on to de money-lenders, for he ish ruining hinishelf," said Guldenstock. " Gott of Jacob ! dat men should be such fools ash to shtake deir landsh and happinesss on the legs of an horsh !" "Dere is dat Lord Canonlaugh shtaking dem on de legs of von ballet-dansher, " grinned Geltrubber, cracking his finger-joints. " De oder day, after a meeting at Egsheter Hall for de gon version of ush Israelites, he had de imbudence to come to me and vant to borrow ten thousand 'for good vorks,' as he said, hypocritically lifting up hish eyes to heaven. But I knew de good vorks vas von furnished cot- tage at Twickenham and a tousand guinea pair of barouche horses for Miss Spin- ner who danshesh vit more spirit dan clothing. Gott of Isaac, dese Gentiles fancy vnn is blind as moles to deir little vickedness ; but Canonlaugh has no coal-mine, sho I shent him to old Sholomon Fang." "Dey are all alike," observed Guldenstock, philosophically; " a pervershe and evil generation, Gott help me. Der vas Lady Canonlaugh vanted to teach morals to de little infidels, as she called de children dat vorshipped in our syna- gogue, and it sheeins she learned dose morals of Prince Cashino. Dis reminds me dat it ish Cashino who set dish Pennyvoddle Loan going. As 1 told you Penny- voddle came to me for advishe, and I gave it him, dinking his son-in-law was mixed up in de bishnesh." " A clever man, dat Mayrose, who vill be Prime Minister." " No, nevex"," answered Guldenstock, judiciously ; "he hash a creat mind and a veak heart. He ish honesht, and vill alvays manage to let people dink he ish a a rogue. He hash more energy of purposh dan shoundnesh of judgment. If he vash Prime Minishster he vould trample on all de prejudishes dat grow like bram- bles over de minds of dis people, and de brambles vould vound him and preak his heart. De truth ish Lord Mayrose fanshies hinishelf a Tory, and he ish a Radical." " Dat ish vy Paramount liash svich a liking for him," grunted Baron Gelt- rubber. " Yesh, but Paramount hash no heart to break, and he has succeeded vere Mayrose vill alvays fail," responded Guldenstock, who had not sat twenty years in Parliament for nothing. " I vas shaying, dough, that I had advished Pennyvoddle about his Loan from dinking dat Mayrose had von finger in it. But he hashn't, and de affair ish all in de handsh of a girl who leads Pennyvoddle by the nose, and ish hershelf led by dat Italian Prince who in hish turn ish led by de devil. Ven I discovered all dish 1 vash shorry for de good advishe I had given." Thus all our secrets are known, and the mysteries which we imagine we have 206 boat concealod furnish talk to Anglu-Gurinana in Lumbard-atreot. At the moiutiiit when Barons Guldenstock and Gultrubbur from the altitude uf their financial gran- deur were raining contempt on i'riiicu CasiiKj, that Italian was alighting at the office of Robgroschon & Co. in Cannon-streot. As ho Huldoin road English nows- Sapera, he waa at a loss to account for tiio dismal greeting oxtondod to him by Horr Lobgroschen. The "Co." might have boon o(iually dismal had "Co." boon exiatont, but "Co." figured only on the door-piato and window-blinds of Horr Robgroachen'a office. " Mein Gott, what an unlucky business isli this death i>f Lady Penny voddle I " exclaimed Robgroschon, aildrossing tho Prince in French, f<>r he was an Alsatian and uaod English like soap, with economj'. Ho was a short man in glossy clothes, with a black beard trimmed liko a fan, and a brown beaky noso surmounted by a pair of hazel eyes, teeming with the sly humour which comes of long association with Frenchmen. When he laughed ho opened his mouth wide like a Nuremberg nut-cracker, and showed thirty-two yellow tooth of uneven size, but in excellent preservation. His peculiarities were that he took snuff out of a mosaic box, and wore on the thumb of his right hand a gold ring witli an enormous topaz. His favorite attitude was to stand on one log rubbing tho calf of that leg thoughtfully with his spare foot, and, as ho always kept four fingers of either hand in his trousers pockets with tho thumbs twiddling mitside, his topaz ring was tho first thing that struck you in him. Herr Robgroschon's .shoulders stt^opod as if he had long carried a pack of " old clo'," and there is no saying whether he had done ao or not, for no one knew exactly — nor was intended to knschen, who had been rubbing his left leg with his right boot, changed feet and said : — " Le tiaple to tout ceci c'est que ce fieux aura beut-edre tu chagrin et ne fiendra boint signer." " II viendra, il signera," answered tho Prince, meditatively but confidentially. " He said he would be here cat twelve, and by the time the other gentlemen have arrived I have no doubt ho will have come too. Perhaps Milady Pennywoddle's death will even make him more accommodating." " Gott hear you ! Anyhow it is understood that I am to have ten thousand pounds for surrendering the Loan, and another ten thousand for giving up my of- fice — total, twenty thousand." " Ten thousand for surrendering ? Why not fifty thousand whilst you are about it 1" asked the Prince m surprise. •' Well, I could have cleared much more than fifty thousand, if I had had the Loan," said Robgroschon, modestly. " It was a fine affair ; and I explained to Pennywoddle how we three — that is he, you and I — could have netted three mil- lions out of it, and never lost one penny ; but you blew down my plan. Why did you do so ?" " Because it was a plan that would have made my friend Descamisado pay eight millions for two and a half, and afforded you profits which I would much rather see in Sir Pennywoddle's pockets — and in mine. That is the reason." "Tut, tut ! You will unblushingly tell me, an old hand, that you expect to see Sir Ham Pennywoddle clear profits. You know that Rio-Brigande will not pay the first quarter's interest on the Loan, and that Pennywoddle and Jiddledubbin will be bankrupts before six months !" and Robgroschon winked reproachfully at the Prince Casino, as one thief might do at another. Now, it was galling to Prince Casino that Robgroschon should wink at him. 207 Ho believed in his friend Deflcamiaadu, and had every confidence that Rio- Brigande could pay nHietir U38sed guarantees of customs duties and tobacco monopoly." At this Sir Han' had stared. " No faith in customs duties T' " Not a particle, nor in anything belonging to the country. Senor Descami- sado will give out that he wants the money to build a railway, which is to put the 209 rich auriferous ID in«t of his KepuUic in reUtion with the seacoaat. When ho haa got the coin we shall hear nothing more of the railway nor of the ntinea, but we shall ^ee Sun(>r DeiicaniiNailo turning up in Paris some day aa a millionaire, with a mansion in the Chamns Elysees. That, however, need not trouble us, for what we have to do is r?mplv tnis : we will issue thv Loan, and instantly put it at a premium on the Stock Exchange ; say we issue it at 95 and got it quoted at \W ; the whole will then be applied for by the people who will re-sell it to us at the premium. We flhall then have it all in our own hands, but we shall have obtained a (|Uotation on the Stock Exchange ; and little by little, by giving brokers a liberal commission and percentage fuy back the Loan ; ditlcrt-nt brokers for dealing will get about £'40,0 as the price of news- paper advertisements, circulars, squaring City editors, and gratis bonds to influen- tial puople in high ; , say, t';}0<),()(M) in all. Well, the ditierenco between that and four millions t>i. represent our share of profits — that i.t, one milli'>ii and a half each to you and me, and the surplus to Cii.sino, who will th»i9 get a much bigger plum than he has any right to expect. Do y<*H see and agree (" Sir Ham saw, but hu did not agree. Perhaps if left ti> himself he might have done so, for although he abhorred dishonesty, and had sent hundreds of thieves to the House of Correction for stealing shillings, he looked upon the puUlic as a grand llock of sheep from wh'KSe back a man n)ay fairly pidl tuft.s nf wool without being calltjd hard names, lint Prince Casino had energetically (jjiposed tiie i)laii and had instructed Grace to do so. Believing, as he did, in Descamisado, the Prince fancied that the gifted Patriot would never consent to a loan on such u.suri(;u9 terms as the above, but would call him (Casino) a bungler, and empower somebody else to open negotiations in a new (juarter. Prince Casino did not wislj to be called a bungler, and, besides, the monstrous profits which Kobgroschen dangled before his eyes had too swindles' >me an air to please him. His slumbers wo\dd have been broken by fear of the policeman had he pocketed t'7lX),m Furnival's Inn. and was often found fishing in troubled waters. Habitually a jocular man, and particular about his linen and finger-nails, all the jocularity oozed out of him when Mr. Deedes walked in, omitting to notice him, and he be- gan to bite his nails and rumple his shirt-front. Mr. Deedes wholly disapproved of the Loan, and regarded all the company present as so many bad characters who 211 lis nephew as if they tood up on to effect a iv with the Fandango d for twin identical. ling Street Brigande ;. ntials anew ularity, he ecorationa, monopolies On enter- xcel, which : nice from ), to shake late Sheriff iriend Pen- ,nd Sir Joel ist loved in turtle soup i as a fer- xt of aeced- hion. Dux is apostasy. 1 this morn- jr buy a new colour, and le palms of lich was to e the stock- Tarry, and moustache, white gai- leaded cane be a blue VIr. Scrappe mplicity in whist with im on both i simplicity th the same taking him ct of meet- jrow. Mr. iments, and Tarry hailed Habitually e jocularity and he be- iisapproved acters who were victimising his client Sir Ham and richly deserved to be dealt with at Bow Street. He had expostulated with Sir Ham in earnest terms about the folly the latter was committing ; but finding him hopelessly obstinate, had not felt it bind- ing upon him to refuse him professional assistance. He saw no reason, however, for acknowledging Mr. Tarry ; and Mr. Tarry, profoundly humiliated, naturally pretended to be imconscious of him. The company were all /vrouped round the table of tlie office parlour, whereon lay a form of coi ..ctct which Herr Robgroschen had spread out with paper weights at the corners to keep it down. It was a luxurious parlour ; and on the red-paper- ed walls hung numerous pictures, prints, and plans relating to Bio-Brigande. There were, first of all, over the mantel-shelf two Parisian photographs of small and yel- low Senor Descamisado, one displaying him in uniform, and. the other in evening dress, with a white cravat as fierce as a ruff. There was a print of the " Puerta d© la Constitucion,'' or principal thoroughfare of Rio-Brigande, with barouches, and horsemen prancing about, in as great numbers as if the place was as secure as Con- stitution Hill h. London. Further on came a print from an American illustrated paper of "The population accluiming Senor Descamisado after his authoritative dis- solution of the Cortes" ; and alongside of these many freshly executed drawings of " the proposed line of rail from the Gold Mines of Rio-Brigande to the sea." Sir Joel Jiddledubbin, much interested by the fashionable company airing themselves in the Puerta de la Constitucion," was asking Senor Fandango whether this were really a graphic picture ; and the Senor, whose favoured country had never boasted a barouche since these vehicles were invented, was answering with deep conviction, " truly graphic," when the black marble clock over tlie (ire-place struck noon. A hush ensued ; ar.d for the next minute nothing was audible but the discreet noise made by Mr. Tarry biting his nails. Will he come or will he not ? was the mute question asked by each face ; but the answer was given at tliree minutes past twelve by a clerk throwing open the dcor and announcing : — " Sir Ham Pennywoddle !" The knight's dead wife, could she have awakened from her sleep, would not have known him, so great was the havoc which one night had wrought on him. Arrayed from head to foot in black, with his face bereft of all colour and his eyes sunk deep in their orbits, he advanced to the centre of the room and stared vacantly about him, and as if he did not know how to act now that he was left to himself. A murmur of sympathy escaped the lips of one or two among those present ; but Mr. Deedes exclaimed, " Good heavens I gentlemen, he is not in a fit state to sign any binding document." Saying this, Mr. Deedes approached Sir Ham and took his hand : " I was deeply grieved to hear of your loss, Sir Ham ; but do you know why you have come here to-day ?" " Yes, to — m— make some money," moaned Sir Ham, gazing at the lawyer as if he failed to recognize him. " You are going to sign one contract into vich you freely entered. Is it not so, sir?" broke in Senor Fandango de los Doblones, approaching in his turn. " Ye-es," stammered the knight. Then peering into the Senor's face, he sud- denly lifted one of his hands and pressed it between both his owu. "'Your'e my old friend Joel Jiddledubbin," he murmured, plaintively. I didii't know you at first, becos' of tho light. Well, she's gone from us, Joel, my Jane has — my Jane — Mike and Mary's mother. She alius liked you, Joel, and told mo, t'other day to remain friends with you. But I want to get my business done quickly, becos' — she is waiting for me in the carriage, poor Jane is." " I protest, gentlemen, that my client, Sir Ham, is not fit to sign any docu- ment, repeated Mr. Deedes, in excitement, laying one of his black gloves restrain- ingly on the dazed knight's arm. " Mein Gott, it ish only von formalitee,'' ejaculated Herr Robgroschen, with a smirk. " Everydinks was shettled long ago, Mr. Deedes." And getting between the lawyer and Sir Ham, he half led, half shoved, the latter to the table. "Shign here, shir, at de bottom of dis paper, de usual bisness shignature, Shir Ham." And he planted between Sir Ham's unresisting fingers a new quill pen full of ink. 212 CHAPTER XXIII. PRINCE casino's SCARE. Sir Ham aignod. When he had done so, Sir Joel Jiddledubbin took the pen and did likewise. Six of the seven gentlemen present then warmly shook hands with the pair of finan- ciers, congratulating them as if they had done something out of the common way — which they truly had. Mr. Deedes was like an honest man who had got into a company of thimble-riggers. He rubbed his gentlemanly white palms together as if he washed his hands of an atfair so knavish ; then stooped to examine the docu- ment by which Pennywoddle and Jiddledubbin bound themselves to pay within a specified date, the former three millions sterling, the latter one million, into the Bank of England to the account of the Treasury of Rio-Brigande de las Bancyrottaa. If Mr. Deedes could have discovered a flaw in the document, he would have rejoiced and held his peace till he could have persuaded Sir Ham, in a repentant hour, to get the transaction quashed by the High Court of Chancery. But the document had no flaw. It had been admirably drawn up and engrossed in the oftice of Messrs. Burke, Tarry, and Bagge, who knew the High Court of Chancery by heart— more glory to them ! But while Mr. Deedes pored over the parchment scroll Senoi- Fandango y Bolero de los Doblones was observed to bestir himself mysteriously ; and, the sig- nificance of the silver-paper parcel on the mantel-shelf was made apparent. The Senor lifted this parcel with gi-ave care, brought it to the table a.iA unfolded it. Two broad orange ribbons of watered silk, and a couple of silver stars with some gold device in the centre were displayed ; and the Senor, resting his mahogany hands on the table, thus unbosomed himself of an expressive speech : — " Seer Penny voddle, Seer Jeedledubbeen, de Republic, my meestress, she have an eye on de great men of all countree, and vith emotion vatches deir grandeur. You are gre^t men, who like de Jupiters in de fable have turned yourselfs in+c showers of gold to visit my beautiful land, vitch is embarrassed in her circum- stances. Senor Descamisado, presently de master of dat land, he commands me to greet you both Knights Grand Crosses of our illustrious Order of Santo Ladrone, and hereby to invest you with the insignia dereof vit his compliments." Having uttered these eloquent words, Senor Fandango took up one of the orange ribbons, and, holding it in both hands as if it were a bandage with a poul- tice Jn it, approached Sir Ham. The knight stood with a smileless air of wonder whilst the gaudy ribbon was being passed over his head, and whilst one of the sheen stars was pinned on the left breast of his coat ; but Sir Joel Jiddledubbin, Avhen his turn came for undergoing this unforeseen ceremony, waxed vermilion with a satisfaction at once pompous and modest, much too great for words. He was fairly touched ; it seemed to him that these foreign States were indeed places worth dealing with ; and his only regret was that he could not walk down Cornhill to exhibit himself with his ln^nestly-earned badges of distinction. He would have liked to step into Birch's arrayed in the orange ribbon and star, and eat a plate of turtle-soup in the front shop. Senor Bolero assisted Senor Fandango in the investiture, but it was noticeable that the latter carefully excluded I'rince Casino from all share in it. He well knew that the Prince meant to try and supplant him from the Ministership in London, in the event of Rio-Biigande becoming a reputable State again, and therefore he was anxious to prove that for the present at least he alone ofiicially represented Senor Descamisado. It had been as wormwood to him that Prince Casino should have had so much to do with the Loan, and especially that the Loan contract stipu- lated for the payment of the four nuUions into the Bank of England instead of into his (Fandango's) hands, as the general custom is in such cases ; but he consoled himself by reflecting that the relations Rio-Brigande and her agents had ever been conducted on principles of mutual distrust. And Senor Descamisado was too much of a Conservative to innovate on these principles for the sake of entrusting Senor Fandango y Bolero de los Doblones with four millions in ready money. 218 likewise, of finan- )n way — ot into a gether as he docu- within a into the icyrottaa. ! rejoiced I hour, to locument f Messrs. rt — more ndango y , the sig- iable aiid Iver stars isting his ipeech : — she have grandeur, selfs in+c r circiim- ids me to Ladrone, e of the 1 a poul- wonder of the edubbin, erniilion rds. He ed places Cornhill )uld have a plate of oticeable t^eil knew London, efore he presented lo should act stipn- istead of consoled jver been too much ng Senor le In other respects, however, Ssnor Fandango was fully equipped with creden- tials testifying to his respectability. He had brought with him a portentous paper, with a moistrous white seal affixed, empowering him to conclude negotiations on his country's behalf, and also letters patent (he kept a stock by him) to render the creation of the two new knights of Santo Ladrone perfectly regular. The insignia of this illustrious order had been bought out of Sir Ham's own money— that is with some of the funds committed to Prince Casino for secret service. Senor Fandango had begged £50 of the Prince, that the insignia might be of good quality, and he had bought the two ribands and stars for £10 a piece of one of the numer- ous shops in the Paris Palais Royal which retail these necessaries — the £30 odd, as well as the 1000 guinea fee, which each of the new knights were asked to pay within eight days of their investiture, constituting Senor Fandango's little perqui- sites. One has only to add that the Order of Santo Ladrone owes its name to the penitent thief who died on the cross, and whom Rio-Brigande has taken for its Patron Saint. Some Frenchman contended that this penitent thief, growing tired of looking after a country that never paid its debts, had delegated his duties to the thief who had never repented, and who at the same time kindly consented to look after all the other Republics of South America. But one can only believe half oi what those French say. Now, Sir Ham and Sir Joel having been so unexpectedly decorated nothing re- mained for them but to take off their decorations and stow them into their pockets. Sir Ham was not equal to performing this service for himself ; Mr. Scrappe the stockbroker did :t for him, laughing somewhat in petto at the whole business, and then the poor knight, who had been silent since the signing of the contract, said seriously, "I think I'd jist like to go, becos She's a waitin' for me." Although the door was opposite him he could not see it, but waddled towards a cupboard where HeiT Eobgroschen kept a bottle of Dutch schnaps for his private use. That financier restrained him by the coat-skirt and passed him over to Prince Casino and Mr. Deedes, who were standing side by side. It was then noticed by Mr. Tarry, who had a quick eye for small facts, that Prince Casino seemed to shrink from the touch of Sir Ham . He had been eyeing the knight with a sti'ange expression, in which something not unlike fear predominated, and now he appeared unwilling to accompany him out of doors. Sir Ham, however, having caught him mechanically by the sleeve, it became impossible for the Prince to disengage him- self. He walked out with Sir Ham and Mr. Deedes, and in the carriage waiting at the office door perceived Grace Marvel, attired in deep mourning, and with her veil down. Grace evidently wished to speak to the Prince, for she leaned forward and beckoned to him with a glance. Mr. Deedes having brought Sir Ham to anchor on the pavement in order to test by a few questions whether he were really compos mentis, the Prince had no opportunity to shirk Grace's summons. He ap- proached reluctantly, and she whispered : "JPrince, I must see you this evening. If you come to Kensington at eleven and walk up and down outside the house, my maid will let you in. That is the only means I can devise for seeing you, but what I have to say is very important. You will come, will you not ?"' This she added because of the Prince's manifest hesitation. " Ye-es," stammered the Prince, but he looked at her with a cold terrified stare, and trembled a little. He was glad when Sir Ham, released by Mr. Deedes, climb- ed into his brougham and was driven off. As the Prince was turning to enter his own carriage he met the severe features of Mr. Deedes, who had markedly avoided bowing to Grace. " You appear to have taken a leading part. Prince, in this decoj-ing of my client," said the lawyer warmly ; " but you must not make too sure that the law will not require an account of your conduct. I would swear before a judge that Sir Ham is the victim of a conspiracy, and that he was as much entrapped into the proceedings of this day as if he had been drugged." Prince Casino hied him westwards in a state of alarm difficult to depict on paper. Mr. Deedes' menace was disquieting, but it effected him far less than Herr Robgroschen's hint that there had been foul play in Lady Pennywoddle's death. It was this that made the Prince shrink from Sir Ham's touch, and caused him to stare at Grace in a manner which had seemed to her ine^splicable. 214 The truth is he had conned over Robgroscheu's words while pretending to read the newspaper, and it had flashed upon him with a lurid gleam that all circum- stances did really point to foul play. He knew Grace to be unscrupulous, and Sir Ham to be dotingly in love ; the fall of Lady Peunywoddle down a staircase was unnatural ; what more likely than that tho lovers should have murdered the wretched woman and spread a false report that she bad died by accident? An Italian readily credits a murder tending to remove an obstructive wife or husband from the path of true love ; and then Sh Ham's confused behaviour in the office savoured of conscience-stricken guUt. Of course, there would be an inquest — Mr. Tarry had remarked that it would probably be held tliat very afternoon — but what if the Coroner should be as suspicious as Herr Kobgroscheu ? What if he should scent out a dark secret, and detect that Lady Pennj'woddle had been poisoned or deliberately pushed down the stairs ? Murderers are proverbially incautious, and British coroners keen-eyed as lynxes. This coroner might order the arrest of Sir Ham and of Grace, and implicate the Prince himself in the suspected crime. Nay, Grace's appointment for that evening might have been made on purpose to warn the Prince that he and Grace were in danger. The bouses on both sides of the street, the lamp-posts, tbe sandwich-men, seemed to whirl round in an infernal gallop when this fear broke upon Prince Casino. Ho drove to the Brummel. Though sober, like all his countrymen, he felt the need of half a bottle of champagne to steady his nerves, and went straight into the dining-room, where he was instantly struck by the distant bearing which difierent members assumed towards him. He thought his own jarring sensitiveness must be creating him an illusion, and so stood at the centre-table waiting for his refresh- ment, and hoping that the wine would enable him to see clearer. But there was no illusion. Lord Beaujolais and Sir Tito, indignant at the Prince for having been the cause of the threatened duel between Maj'rose and Hornette, and wishing to check all rumours as to tho suid duel, had been giving out that there had been only a misunderstanding abovit " some confounded lie Casino had told ;" and Lord Beau- jolais, who could be very terrible with all who were not peers of the first water, hadfurther alluded to the Prince as " a blackguardlyjltaliau, by Jove." So the Prince, when he had dniuk his wine — and he tossed it down in two draughts out of a tankard — found that the faces of the members remained as cold as before. Formerly his presence had alwaj's been greeted with cries of welcome, and r'-eu were delighted to get him to lunch with them for the sparkling anecdotes and racy jests with which he could enliven a repast ; but now ho l)egan to understand the force of Herr llobgroschen's warnings as to the danger of falling out with Eng- lish grandees. Even that prince of well-dressed and amiable exquisites. Sir Wind- sor Chatt, who had few prejudices and no enemies, favored the Prince with a formal bow istead of a smile ; and the despairing Italian was glancing around tho room begging for a kind word, as an outcast for bread, when young Lord Chevychase rose from a far-off table and joined him with downcast looks. It chanced that the Prince was under invitation to dine at Chevychase House in a few days to meet a Royal personage, so that the Marquis could not possiblj' have avoided noticing him; but Chevychase in a whisper requested the Prince to come with him outside the room ; and when they were in the passage — " I say, Cass, old man," he began, sympathizingly, " I'm weally awfully sowwy, but the Pvvince sent down this morning to stwike your name off my wife's dinner-list. He let it stand last week when we sent it him, and 1 didn't know how to tell you what had been done ; but plain speaking is best. You might have learned the thing from others." " His Royal Highness, he has struck off my name !"' ejaculated the Prince, piteously. '' But Dio mio, vat have I done?" "Egad, you ought to know better than we," said the Marquis, wretchedly. " I suppose it is because you have quawelled with Mayrose." "But, my dear Chevychase, your charming wife, she too detests Mayrose; I have heard her say so." "So have I, more than once; but we're different," sighed his lordship, with worldly philosophy. " Hornette and I can quawell with whom we please, because 215 no one dare hurt tis ; but, you know, old man, it's always bad work for a for- weigner, or even for an Englishman who isn't precious sure of his position to get sparring with a Minister like Mayrose. Why were you such a duffer I" " Mon Dien! I have sparred with nobody, and am not a duffer. Could I guess that yo\i and milady Chevychase and everybody would turn round on me because I was persecuted by one whom you all hate." ' My wife hasn't turned round on you," replied the Marquis. "Egad, she wanted to fly at the Pwince, countermand the dinner, and all sorts of things, but I wouldn't allow her. It's the first time I ever withstood her, by Jove ; but, you see, a Woval Pwince can't help standing by the Queen's Ministers ; and, look liere, Cass, let me give you a hint," added his lordship, confidentially ; "we fellows — that is, men like Maywose, Hornette and I — often fall out, but we don't suffer out- aiders to mix in our disputes. You'll find Hornette throw you over like the west, because it won't suit him to make people think he wants foweign allies to fight his own battles. What you had best do is to make it up with Maywose, then go abroad a bit, and when you come back all this tiff will have blown over ; and for the future, old man, keep out of wows." This was like telling the Prince that all his efforts to secure a social foothold in England had been in vain, and that he was reckoned of no more account than a pup- pet by those proud British aristocrats with whom he had aspired to mix on equal terms. He left the Brummel feeling that he should never dare to enter it again, and slunk into the Pahestra hard by to seek Mr. Quintus Dexter, partly to get comfort by talking with somebody not ^ -'tile, partly to learn how that gentleman's personal dispute with Sir Ham had ended. Mr. Dexter came out to him in the vestibule, wearing black gloves and a complimentary mourning hat-band out of respect for Lady Pennywoddle, for he was a nice observer of social courtesies. "Have you seen Sir Pennywoddle to-day?" asked the Prince, inexpressibly soothed by the Editor's shaking hands with him. " No ; nor am I likely to," said Mr. Dexter. "He cannot dislodge me from my editorship, and will keep friends with me if he is wise. You know his wife is dead ?" " Yes ; a shockingly sudden death." "Curiously sudden. I shouldn't wonder if that girl Grace Marvell had killed the poor old lady." This was like a wedge of ice piercing through the Prince's marrow. " You think Miss Mai'vell capable of murder, my good Dexter?" and Prince Casino's eyes rolled like goggles. " No ; I dida't say that. I said I shouldn^t ivomkr if she had disposed of the poor woman, which constitutes a shade of difference. You saw how she handled Sir Ham yesterday in our presence. She made it very clear that it was she who wore the hat in the household ; and to tell you the truth I bad long been expecting Lady Pennywoddle's sudden death." i " You had long expected it?" " Yes — as a natural sequence to events. I dont mind telling you that I once had an idea of proposing to little Miss Pennywoddle ; but when Miss Marvoll came into the house it needed but a pair of eyes to guess that she would eventually ac- quire her present power, and make a son-in-law's position difficult. She and I have never adored each other. I don't think she is the girl to give one poison or a cold knife, but I am pretty certain that her goings on with Sir Ham have contri- buted in some mysterious way to poor Lady Pennywoddle's death ; and I tell you this, Prince, because I have heard that you ai'o rather smitten with her channs. If so, you would do well to beware ; unless you like what the French call une maitresse femine." This was the crowning drop to the Prince's cup of bitterness. Eobgroschen suspected foul play, so did Mr. Dexter, and both talked of his supposed love for Grace. All that was wanting now was for a policemen to waylay him as he left the club, and apprehend him by the collar. The Prince positively feared to return to his chambers lest he should meet a detective there, and he mooned about the streets on foot, forming all manner of InHane plans for flying the country, and leav- 216 ing everything he possessed behind. At other moments he thought he would go and fling himself on his knees before Mayrose, humbly beg pardon for having ad- vised the loan, and disclosing his suspicions about Grace, vow his own innocence and throw himself on Mayrose's protection as a Minister. But the thought that Mayrose might disbelieve his vows and cause him instantly to be taken to Newgate in a cab deterred him. Towards six o'clock in the evening he found himself, hot and footsore, in one of the dingy thoroughfares near Leicester Square, and there encountered a small toy scudding o"er the pavement with the second edition of that well-informed evening journal, the Muffin Bell. Tied round the boy's neck and fluttering over his chubby body was a contents' bill, and among the items enumer- ated on it was : " IiKjuetit on Liuiy PennywoddhJ" With fingers shaking as in an ague, Prince Casino stopped the small boy, gave him a shilling, and took a paper. Then he trudged panting up a bhnd alley to read it. Never had his eyes raced over columns as they did then, and he rested Ids hand against a pump ready to prop himself if the news should be disastrous. But the verdict he read was " Accidental death," and thereon he drew the heaviest sigh of relief he had ever exhaled in his life. Tlie inquest had been held in Sir Ham's own dining- room and seemed to have lasted only a couple of hours. The servants had been ex- amined, and there had been a " sensation " in the room when Sir Ham had broken down in giving evidence. Miss Marvell had been complimented by the Coroner on her lucid way of stating what she knew ; and that was all, excepting that the Muffin Bell published a leader expatiating on the defective build of modern staircases. The verdict rid the Prince of his immediate fears as to the policeman, but it did not shake his belief in Grace's guilt. Only, beholding now how craftily she had contrived the murder so as to disarm the Coroner's suspicions, his respect for her was heightened, and he was seized with the ludicrous dread that if he offended such a girl he might rue it. He divined that she loved him — he never could have used her so successfully as a tool had that not been the case ; and his own admira- tion for her beauty was very sincere. But with foreign gentlemen like Prince Casino, admiration for beauty does not point necessarily to marriage. There are other ways of worshipping, and the Prince inclined to those other ways, for, although he had no objection to marriage in the abstract (he had, indeed, caressed the fancy of some day espousing an English girl, ) the ideal bride of his imagina- tion was some daughter of a great house, with rent roll in one hand, escutcheon in the other, and an army of noble relatives behind. Should he go to meet Grace at eleven, or should he not ? was the question which now presented itself to the Prince, and it sorely harassed him as he wended his way back to his Pall Mall chambers. They were slovenly chambers, shabby and not clean, for lt,ilians have little notion of apartmental comfort ; and the Prince was scarcely ever indoors two hours together, except at night. But on this day he spent all the evening in his rooms, not daring to go out and dine anywhere. He had no dinner, but with a spirits-of-wine lamp made himself a cup of black coffee, and mimched a biscuit ; then wept at finding himself so forlorn. He asked him- self as the tears trickled down his plump cheeks how he should act if Grace declared to him point-blank that he must become her husband when she had married and killed Sir Ham ? If she were very energetic he saw no means of refusing, for she might follow Ivim about from city to city with a dagger intent on wreaking ven- ge-1 ' tie had heard of women doing such unseemly things. By-and-bye an I,- a j la,yed "Ah, che la niorte " under his windows gave him solace, for '.. " .i;.A '. niself toan operatic hero in trouble, and eventually his new-bom . ' >• 'J, .1- t-jiTgested to him the prudence of not missing his appointment. So :.- ; .; . carefully dressed himself in his evening clothes, with a pair of bhcli j,n 1 . 1 shortly befoje eleven alighted from a hansom a few doors from Sir Ham's house. The fashionable street was silent and deserted. There were no parties at any of its houses for a wonder. A policeman stood under a lamp-post staring at the new moon, and Prince Casino gave an involuntary shudder as he passed him. He strolled up and down the pavement with nervous steps till a neighboring church clock struck eleven, and punctually to the hour the door of Sir Ham's house was would go »ving ad- innocence lUght that Newpate Qself, hot and there edition of neck and i enumer- , gave him read it. ad against verdict he relief he irn dining- i been ex- ad broken oroner on ;he Muffi,n 3ases. an, but it aftily she •espect for i offended ould have n admira- ie Prince Ihere are pys, for, , caressed 1 imagina- scutcheon question e wended labby and he Prince lis day he lere. He ,ck coffee, ied him- declared rried and for she cing ven- d-bye an jlace, for new-bom ent. So a pair of ors from es at any ig at the im. He church juse was 217 stealthily opened. A young maid in black, with white cap, collar and cuffs, cam© under the portico, and on seeing the Prince retreated without making any sign, and held the door open. Prince Casino walked in. CHAPTER XXIV. PRINCE casino's WOOING. Grace received Prince Casino in the boudoir belonging to her own apartments. It was like the room of a royal palace. There was no gas, but six wax candles of pearly whiteness set in branches jutting from oval mirrors bathed the blue furniture in a light beautifuDy clear. On the round table in the centre of the room stood a small, exquisitely-chased silver urn, and a tea-service of porcelain so transparent as to be like pink shells. These preparations for tea removed all melodramatic glam- our from the room, and comforted the Italian as he crossed the carpet to salute Grace. She was seated in a low arm-chair near the fireplace, where, although it was summer, twp beech logs were burning merrily, diffusing cheerfulness without heat. She wore an evening dress of black crepe de Chine ; in each of her ears was a black pearl, and round her throat a three-rowed neck-lace of the same costly gem. Her shapely arms were bare, and there were no rings on the hand which she held out to the Prince, without rising. He lifted that hand to his lips, for he had always done so on former occasions. "It is very good of you to have come, Prince," said she, gently, as he was per- forming this gallantry ; I desired to ask your advice on a matter of great moment to me, and I have no one else whom I can consult. But first let me give you some tea ; we shall both feel more sociable." She slightly smiled as she said this, but her face was grave. As she rose and stood at the table, the Prince could not help admiring the perfect sj'rametry of her form and the innate grace of all her movements. She poured him out some tea, and when he had retreated to an arm-chair opposite hers, glided back to her own chair cup in hand. It then struck the Prince that he ought to have taken her cup and held it till she was seated, but he was in such a tremor to hear what she was going to say, that his solecism in manners escaped him till too late to be remedied. " The death of Lady Peunywoddle has caused me great sadness," began Grace, with feeling. " She was very kind to me — almost a second mother, and I cannot yet realize the cruel loss which I have made." The Prince bow^ed, and Grace passed over her eyes a handkerchief with a deep lace border. " But now I cannot remain in Sir Ham's house," she continued. " Lady Jiddledubbin has invited me to stay with her, but I should have preferred to go and pass a few weeks with Lady Canonlaugli, whom I lately met, and who was very civil to me. Knowing that Lady Caiiouluugh is not very well off, I had thought of indemnifying ker if she would let nio live under her i)rotection, and chaperone me. And when I spoke to you this morning my purpose was to ask you if you would kindlj' bear my request to the Countess, with whom, I believe, you are intimate. Sir Ham, however, will not consent to this arrangement." The Prince made a second more nervous bow, stirring his tea timidly. " I should have been dehghted to speak to Lady Canonlaugli, Signorina — though I am not very intimate with her," added he, wondering whether there was intentional imputation in Grace's words. " I thought you were very intimate," said Grace, with a furtive flash of jef 1- ousy in her large eyes ; " but in any case Sir Ham will not hear of my staying with Lady Canonlaugh. He wants me to take a house and live there with my poor father and some paid companion. I should mention that Sir Ham has some right to direct my conduct, for I am to become his partner. " " His partner ?" echoed the Prince, so astonished that he spilled a little tea into his saucer. " Yes," said Grace, with composure. " Sir Ham considers that I had so much 218 to do with persuading him to undertake the Loan, that he yesterday tendered me a half share in all his profits. To-day, however, he made me another proposal, which was that he should settle on me as my absolute property all his landed estates, and his couutrj- house at Penny, together with twenty thousand pounds in money. He wished to effect this settlement before the Loan was issued, and it is about this that I wished to consult j'ou" ; here Grace paused and reddened a little. " Sir Ham had an object in proposing to settle his estates on me ; he wished to keep me with him — for he has made me an offer of his hand." Kesolved as he was to retain a control over himself, the Prince spilled more tea in the saucer, and felt his hand shake. So here was the truth come out at last. In mentioning Sir Ham's offer, and in asking for Prince Casino's advice on it, Grace could have no obiect but to make the latter declare his own sentiments ; and the Prince saw that he was now face to face vnth that dilemma and danger which had been tormenting him so wofuUy all day. In listening to Grace, the impression had been creeping over him — he knew not how — that Sir Ham was innocent of Lady Pennywoddle's murder, and that it was Grace who had managed it all. But in other respects Bobgroschen's suspicions were all verified. Grace was going to get the Penny estates into her possession, so that they might be removed from all risks ■which Sir Ham might incur in the Loan ; then she would marry Sir Ham with the intention of putting him out of the way as soon as possible, in order to marry him — the Prince. Again, policemen without number appeared to locm uj) and compass this ill- starred Italian about. It seemed to him that if he encouraged Grace to marry Sir Ham, holding out the ulterior ))rospect of claiming her himself when she was a ■widow, it would be exactly as if he signed the poor knight's death-warrant. On the other hand, if he dissuaded her from the marx'iage, it would be tantamount to saying that he himself wished to marry her, and she might, with her devilish arts, drive him to make an explicit promise on the subject. If, however, he adopted the "third alternative of advising her to marry Sir Ham, and yet letting her see that he had no wish to inherit the knight's reversion, what sudden explosion of wrath and vengeance might he not have to endure from this beautiful and criminal creature — this British incarnation of Lucretia Borgia ? The cruelly-perplexed Prince thought he might perhaps back out of his scrape by common-places ; but his heart sank into the heels of his boots as he whined : " Why, Signoriua, should a person young and lovely as yourself marry an old man like Sir Pennywoddle ?" " Oh, if I become Su- Ham's wife. Prince, it would only be to devote myself to him as a daughter," answered Grace, who had been watching the play of the Prince's features during the half minute he took to puzzle out what he should saJ^ " I should merely be actuated by a desire to cheer the close of the poor man's life, for ho cannot live long," The Prince gave a shiver. This was rather too much cynicism, and it revolted him. " But it seems to mo that Sir Penuyvoddle is full of health, Signorina," he faltered. " I wish I thought so, Prince," sighed Grace. " The death of his wife has pro- foundly affected him, and he has grown strange in his behaviour. I sent for Lady Mayrose last night as soon as Lady Pennywoddle was dead, but Sir Ham refused to see her or his son-in-law, and Lady Mayrose remained by her dead mother's side alone. Sir Ham has confidence only in me, and I think that by great tenderness I could prolong his life for a few years ; but I repeat, if it were not for me he would fret himself into death or insanity." " He has great confidence in you indeed since he offers you his estates and so much money," exclaimed the Prince, mechanically, and with a tinge of irony not intended. " He has offered mo his estates, and I shall accept them, for if I refused he "would be irritated and grieved," repUed Grace, rising and laying down her cup. "As to the twenty thousand pounds, the advice I sought of you. Prince, was as regards the disposal of this money. It was you who urged the loan on me, and if Sir Ham thinks me entitled to a share in the largo profits he is likely to make, a part of that share is due by rights to you. Excuse me for saying that I have latterly 210 dered me proposal, is landed sounds in and it is d a little. 3d to keep lied more ut at last. 1 it, Grace ; and the irhicli had inpressiou mocent of . Biit in ng to get n all risks n with the larry him ,ss this ill- many Sir she was a rant. On imount to ilish arts, lopted the 36 that he wrath and n-eaturc — e thought .eart sank son young myself to ay of the lould say. nan's life, ; revolted arina," he has pro- for Lady ax refused ;her's side iderness I he would tea and so irony not efused he her cup. *e, was as ue, and if make, a re latterly heard that you are not rich. But you are young and ambitious. You have gi-eat talents, and with money couU achieve a high position in your own country, or as a diplomatist in England or Franco. So I was going to beg your permission to ofifer the twenty thousand pounds to you; you have too much wit to scruple at a gift which you have fairly earnod, and which you would accept without compunction from any person who Ijequeathod it you by will." Now no Italian Prince has ever looked upon twenty thousand pounds with the eye of indifference. Rubino doi Casino felt as if the devil had got into the room and was tempting him tlimugh the mouth of this siren-like English girl. He likened himself to Marguerite cozened by Mephistopheles' jewels in the garden scene. His whole frame was in a fever as he gulped down the remainder of his tea, preparatory to stammering — " But, Signorina, vat vil Lord Mayrose say to all this ? He is Sir Pennyvod- dle's heir it seems to me, and might he not institute against us a suit en ca2)tation, for undue influence I ziuk you say ?" " Let Lord Mayrose not interfere with mc, for I hate him," replied Grace, with an impetuousness as of flame. " Lord Mayrose had an opportunity of wiping out a stain on my poor father's honour, and ho feared to do his duty lest it should injure his prospects. He is selfish and mean ; a puritan in manner, and inwardly a small souled, mercenary adventurer. Ho married Mary Pennywoddle without lovmg her, and of late he has, as you know, been doing all he can to hinder Sir Ham in his enterprises and worrj- him. If Sir Ham had more than one child, I should hesitate to accept any large sum of money from him, but Mary Pennywod- dle has already had a greater dower than would have been hers had her brother lived ; and I have not the smallest scruple in receiving a gift which would now go to Lord Mayrose. Indeed, I will accept it on purpose that the money may not fall into such unworthy gi'asping hands as his." "Dto mio ! but Lord Mayrose is very powerful," objected Prince Casino, most uneasily, under this vehemence. " One would think you were afraid of him," exclaimed Grace, with one of those exasperating laughs by which women can turn a sluggard's blood to fire. " From what I gathered of you yesterday, Lord Mayrose tliroatened and bullied you, but I should think any man of spirit would look upon this as a reason for reprisals ! Be assured of this, Prince, that when a person of your rank accepts an insult without avenging it, he is lost, so far as lioufur and social position are concerned. Once you allow one of these English noblemen to place his heel on your neck, you will find others abandon you as if you wore leprous ; but get money enough to defy them and they will cringe to you — they respect nothing else." This was pretty much what Robgroschen had said to him, and as the Prince recalled Mayrose's menaces, the cold shoulder at the "Brummel," and Lord Chevy- chase's cool desertion of him, he saw that if he wished to remain in England he must, indeed, pick up both heart and monej'. Nay, he could not hope to make a figure even in his own country or in France if he left England with a stigma upon his name, for there is a wondrous freemasonry nowadays among the best aristo- cracies of European countries. The Prince rose, and brusquely pushed his cup on to the velvet covering of the mantleshelf, then leaned an ami on the s'lelf, and running his hand over his throbbing brow, exclaimed excitedly, with a gnashing of his white teeth — Yes, Signorina, Lord Mayrose, he did insult me, and I would give my blood for a revenge. But I have something on my mind. I am distracted, I dare not speak." He hesitated, and munched his nioustache in anxiety. Up to the previous few minutes the conversation with Grace had been conducted with a coldness which excluded sentiment. But since her outburst against Mayrose, Grace's tone bad warmed, and her eyes looking straight into his, magnetised him as those of a charmer do the snake. His weak nature was melting and bending under the rays of her eyes, whilst his senses were stimulated by her impassive beauty. Why shoiild not he, after all, link his love to this peerless girl, who was so strong and brave, and could serve him so well in his ambition \ That he loved her less than 220 she loved him would be an advantage, as it would prevent her from wholly master- ing him. But then there was the murder ; and here be it said that Italians feel little abhorrence for murder in the abstract. Practiced as a fine art with aqua tofmia or a finely-wrought stiletto planted deftly (and at night, with nobody looking on) under the fifth rib, it even makes them smile, for they are a people not void of humour. What Prince Casino loathed was the cunsequences of murder as exacted in Britain — that peculiar perfume of blue dye which exudes from policemen's tunics, the trial before twelve iinintelligent meat salesmen culled out of Cheapside, and the black cap perched on the wig of such a one aa Lord Chief Henburn, with whom the Prince had conversed more than once in society, and wh . struck him as the last man to appreciate fine-art cultivated at the expense of Queen Victoria's lieges. The Prince also dreaded this, that if he married a girl who for his sake had committed murder, she might one day, if she detected him in an infidelity (and Italians are conspicuously liable to such), apostrophise him in those significant words of Lucrczia's, which made the Duke of Ferrara's blood run cold : — "Quarda a voi, il mio quarto marito !" All this bubbled througli the Prince's head as he leaned against the mantel-shelf, rumpling his hair and biting his lips. At last further reticence became too painful to him. He determined to unbosom himself and learn the tnith at any cost. He turned and abruptly faced Grace :— " Signorina, I — I must speak out. You must be indignun and load me with your reproaches, but I cannot help it. Some people suspect you of having mur dered Milady Pennyvoddle. Two men have told me so — Robgroschen and Mr. Dexter. You see I give you their names." And Prince Casino impulsively nar- rated all that these two gentlemen had said to him, occupying about ten minutes in the dramatic recital. Now, va*. can I zink of all this ?" he concluded, wretchedly. "It perplexes me, and I am verree miserable." Grace never moved a muscle. She sat looking at the Prince, without the hue of her face once changing. " And you believe this r' she inquired with disdainful haughtiness, when he had finished. " No — 0," stuttered the Prince, already afraid of what he had done. " You seem half to believe it," she replied contemptuously. Well, if you have no more faith in my principles, at least do justice to my common sense. The death of Lady Pennywoddle was the worst thiuj? that could liappen to me. Sir Ham had offered me half his fortune before she died ; and had she lived I should have been rich and free to marry a man of ray choice. But now gratitude obliges me to be- come the wife of Sir Ham, for if I refused to do so I should kill him as deliberately as if I put a pistol to his brow." " He cannot expect such a sacrifice as that of you," submitted the Prince, con- siderably relieved by Grace's words. " He does expect it, and I will devote myself to him," retorted Grace. " I only sent for you. Prince, to offer tlie money your services have merited ; and now I think we have done. A friend of of mine, Mr. Leech, is going to see whether my father is fit to be removed from the care of the doctors who have been attending him ; and if so, I shall take a house and wait until Sir Ham's year of widowhood is over. If not, I shall go and live with Lady Jiddledubbin ; for I presume you shrink from seeing a girl whom you suspect of murder intrude herself under tlae roof of your intimate friend. Lady Canonlaugh." " Vy do you reproach me vith Lady Cauonlaugh, since I say nozink to you about zat Mr. Leech ?" responded the Prince, whose emotion was now passed away. " I have seen Leech at parties sigliing after you like a fiu-nace. He is a nice young man vis large ears and a face like a caricature by my friend ^f. Cham." " Mr. Leech has a heart of gold, and is chivalrous enough not to insult women !" ejaculated Grace, indignantly. '' If I were to ask him to avenge me against accu- sations such as you have brought against me, he would do so with a promptitude which would astonish you." " Tut, tut ! zat is bravura," laughed the Prince ; and contritely he approached Grace with his hands outstretched, like one who pleads for pardon. The fact is, there had been a ring of truth in Grace's defence of herself, and it lly maater- alians feel with aqua idy looking iot void of UB exacted (olicemen's Cheapaide, burn, with ick him as Victoria's ia sake had delity (and significant -"Guarda lead as he ). At last )ni himself id me with iving mur n and Mr. sively nar- minutes in vretchedly, \it the hue 8, when he you have the death Ham had have heen me to be- eliberately rince, con- irace. " I and now hether my attending lowhood is you shrink he roof of you about iway. " I lice young women !" inst accu- omptitude pproached slf, and it Stab me with those soft, small hands, " Yes, carina, we will bo married, and 1 will get some dipl(jmatic post which 221 had established her innocence in the Prince'^ eyes. Ho was, therefore, sedulouH now to make his peace, and began by murmuring with his silvery tongue a lew coaxing appeals, which at first she rebuffed with scorn. But so strong as she was with those for whom she cared nothing, Grace Marvell was weak against this por- fimicd Italian, who had enthralled li(>r heart and whose love she aspired to win ; and ho, porceiving it, coolly resumed his power, and cajoled licr with some of those llatteries wiiich, whether thoy be breathed by Italian Prince or Lazzarono, have all the balmy warmtli of the pix'tic South in them. He treated lar, as he ditl most women, like a spoilt child; but when ho saw that she continiietl angry, ho penitent- ly knelt at her feet, and with a quiet force took possf-ssiou of her hands, putting himself in the same suppliant posture as Sir Ham had doUe the day before— but what a difference there was between the two scenes ! " Carina," he murmured most melodiously, "you must not marry that old man, for you know that 1 love you — 1 never suspected how much till this day ! — and I will be your husband." "Never I I do not want your love." said she, retreating. " Not a love that will worship you every hour, and try to make of your life a foretaste of Paradise ? " " A love that suspects me of murder?" " I should not care if you nmrdered. and I will be glad," protested he, naively, be rich, and happier tlian you can dream. will make me more than the equal of these English lords, and then you you shall come with me to France and my own coui\try, where people will adore you ; and they will say that never was a princess of our race so fair, though wo are a long line, carina. My ancestor got his title six centuries since from Charles of Anjou, while the ancestors of your puddle-blooded CDUunercial peers begged for pence in the highways." " What does all that matter to me i I should not care to bear tlie name of a man who did not trunt me more than father or mother or anything on earth," replied Grace, still angrily. " I have no father or mother, carina ; but who can trust you more than I do ! You will be my wife, my beautiful Grace, will you not i Say ' yes ' I " " No," said Grace, with spirit. Now when a woman says " No " with spirit, it always means " Yes" ; so the Prince, with an unheeding; smile, resumed : " You vill leave Sir Pennyvoddle's house as you said, my darling, and live with ycnu" father. Ve vill take a house in Park Lane — a bijou Palace — and I vill come to visit you there every day, and in six months ve vill become one for ever. Say ' yea '!"' and this adjuration he repeated in all the tones of his persuasive octave till Grace found herself powerless to falter " No," and so relented. " But what shall I do about Sir Ham ?" she murmured in distress, yet with the thrilling joy of triumph, as the Pi'ince stroked her hand and gazed devotedly into her eyes. "You vill get ze estates frum Sir Ham and sell them," answered the Prince, tenderly. " Ve must have as much hard money as ve can to invest vhere ve please. Sir Ham vill be rich enough via his Loan profits, and since he has no children biit Lady Mayrose, 1 agree that ve can accept his gift vithout scruple. As to marrying you, that is sheer nonsense, carina ; von does not throw a white rose into ze bosom of an old man. He must bear it as he can. Say you vill obey me, carina, eh ? " Grace murmured something unintelligible, for a languor was stealing over her. Prince Casino, however, was ju.st the man to have taken advantage of this to make her exhibit more weakness than she cared to show, so she made an effort to disen- gage herself from him : — "It is one o'clock, Prince ; we vr.lX talk of this some other day," she said. " You must go now, for you may awake Sir Ham, whose room is below this : and remember that poor Lady Penny woddlo is still in the house." The Prince dropped a kiss on to each of her hands. The thought of Sir Ham's 222 Bleep had little weight with hiiii, but the idea tluit there was ii dead body in the house did slightly chill him. Hosides, there was no reason for prolonging the interview, (iraco was his. When he had taken up liis hat and approached her to take leave, he encircled her waist with his arm, and breathed something inaudible into her ear. Shu blushed, and let her head droup on his shoulder. CHAPTER XXIV. *'<)' THAT WAY MADNKSH LIEH !" As Grace had told the Prince, she had asked Quilpin Leech to remove her father from the private madhotise where he wa.s confined, in order that she might live under his seeming protection until the time came for her settling in life. Leech, who had never ceased to visit the old man regularly once a week, prepared to eflfcct his liberation on the first Sunday after (trace's exchange of troth with the Italian. Ho chose Sunday because that day was all his own ; but for civility's sake he came down to Mayrjse's study after breakfast, and asked whetlier ho could be of any service to him or Lady May rose. It was often Leech's habit to escort Mary to St. (Jeorge's when Mayroso was too busy to perform tlie duty ; and he liked his function well, though it obliged him to sit out sernions whose amazing dulness made him moan. Mayrose thanked his secretary, but said ho should not want him ; *' Lady May- rose is going down to Elmwood to-day to stay with L idy R'jsemary, so you and I shall be alone in the house. Leech, till the end of the seasctu.'' '' I hope Lady Mayrose is not too much cast down by her affliction," observed Leech, sympathisingly. " She is better, thanks," said Mayrose; " but Lady Rosemary has kindly in- vited her to the country, and it is better she should be out of town now that she cannot go into society." Ma3 rose spoke in a dejected tone, for the death of his mother-in-law, which would compel Mary to live for a year in seclusion, was a most untoward event to him. He could not, considering Sir Ham's grief, carry out the threat he had made of denouncing the Loan in the Gazidte, nor could he with propriety set up Mr. Mouther in the Commons, and Lord Mouther in the Lords, to ask those questions respecting the recognition of Rio-Brigande, which would enable him publicly to repudiate any participation of his own in *he affair. So Society would continue to identify him with the Loan, and gloss and tattle with the greater malice as Mary would be no longer present in the drawing-rooms to stand up for him with her sturdy little tongue . It had been Lady Rosemary's suggestion tliui Mrr.-y should come down and stay at Elmwood ; and Zellie was to go and reside witli her sister Violet du'-'ng the visit. But meanwhile the city editors of most ' 't fiie papers were in the full cry of interested praise over Rio-Brigande, and Mayrose was haunted by the daily-increas- ing presentiment that his career was shortly going to end in disaster, and this ir- respective of its being brought to a close by Lord Hornette, should the latter con- tinue to brave him and render the threatened duel necessary. Mayrose was not like a man being dragged away by a headlong team which human skill can direct and perhaps check at the last moment ; he was like one being hurried on towards an abyss by an express train — a brute force uncontrollable . " By the way," he said, as Leech was going out, " I asked you the other day if you would find out how matters stood between Miss Marvell and Prince Casino. I suppose you've not had time ?" " No ; Lady Penuywoddle's death occurred the same day." " Quite so. Well, it's not of muoli consequence. I suspect the girl of other designs now than those I had first imagined." " Other designs ?" " We shall see. She has done me a great deal of harm already, and will do me much more, I apprehend, before she has finished. Since you once had a fancy 223 ly in the igin^ the Pll htiT to iimiidihlo novo her he might i in life. prepared with the i Hako he lid bo of i Mary to liked his i; dulnesB ady May- m and I observed cindly in- that she iw, which event to had made t up Mr. questions iblicly to continue as Mary with her u: and stay ng the uU cry of y-increas- this ir- ttter con- was not an direct towards lerday if asino. I of other 1 will do d a fancy for tho girl, Leech, I am glad for your sake that it came to nothing, for slje is a bad, bold pefHon, who would have led you an unhappy life." Quilpm Leech went away not a little Hhocked by this remark. So far from his paHsion for Grace being a thing of the past, he had been wondering through half the previous night whether Lady Pennywoddlo's death would not help him, by Roftouing Grace and leading her to see that riches were of no great accoimt after all, since they could not save ".mi from sudden death in tho midst of every enjoy- ment. This piece of moralisin. vas not much in Leech's ordinary way ; uut true love makes one philosophical, and it distressed the Secretary to find that tho per- fections which ho saw in Grace wcro not so visil)lo to Mayrose. He could not help attributing this to one of thoso unacconntablo obliquities of vision by which worthy pooplo often come to Imtf^ other worthy people — freaks of Nature, moral squints which bring about miserable messes, and are a proof of man's ei-ring condition here below. Pondering over all this, Lecfh f tfirted for J)r. Rogur's " Private Home for tho Mentally AtHicted," and reached tbiit philanthropic institution just about the hour when the mentally aftlicted woro rising from dinner. Dr. Rogur's liouse stood in a picturesque suburb, and was embowered in shrubbery and flowers. There was nothing in it to mark the asylum, for, looked at in front, it resembled the country mansion of an enriched merchant, and seen from behind, with its park of tall elms and acacias, it was like tho lordly demesne of a nobleman fond of privacy ; a high wall ran around the grounds and masked tho roots of tho trees from view. In answer to Quilpin Leech's ring, a staid ser^'ant in black appeared, and led the secretary at once across the hall, and into a garden filled with sunlight, geraniums, and roses. A shaggy black terrier and a pair of parrots, red and grey, were disporting themselves on a gravel walk in harmonious promiscuity, and a tall middle-aged man, with a grizzling black beard, and a velvet skull cap, was stoiqnng and feeding some skinny pullets out of a saucer. This friend of fowl kind was Dr. Rognr, a man of wondrously bland ways, in whose mouth butter would have kept as cool as in an ice-hoxise. He rose, holding the saucer, and with tlie pullets opening their beaks squeakingly around him, and extended a hand, soft and warm to the touch as a boiled vegetable : " How do you do, Mr. Leech, you have come to see our dear patient?" " I have come to remove him, if possible, doctor," answered Quilpin Leech, squeezing the proffered hand diffidently, as if afraid that half of it would remain between his fingers under the form of pulp. " Miss Mai"vell is making arrange- ments to take a house, and have her father attended to at homo." Dr. Rogur's features became piteous, and he looked as if he were going to cry over the pullets' food in the saucer. His affection for his dear patients was such that he was always loth to part with them, and this aversion was particularly acute in the case of those who brought him £300 a year, as this one did. " 1 am really afi-aid that it woiild be unsafe to remove poor Mr. Marvell," said he in dissuading tones. " He is suffering from tho most dangerous of all manias, that of persecution. He fancies there are conspiracies afoot against him. He hears voices mocking him, and imagines he has a grievance. Such symptoms often culminate in homicidal impulses, and the patient requires the most anxious watching." " Do you think, then, tliat ho is inc\;rable ?" "I would not answer for his cm-e if he were taken from my care," was Dr. Rogur's plaintive, but able answer. " The great point in these cases is not to inter- rupt the continuity of treatment. I am attentively observing Mr. Marvell at this moment to see whether his malady will resolve itself into general paralysis or con- firmed dementia ; but such diagnoses are always long, and until they are over it is incautious to indulge in prognostications.'' " Well, poor Marvell has so often implored me to have him liberated that, as he has now been m<^re than a year under your care, I fancy change of scene and freedom from restraint might perhaps do him good," submitted Leech deferentially, for he felt a great respect towards Dr. Rogtir. "Ah! entreaties for freedom; these patients are all alike!" exclaimed Dr. Rogur, fioui'ishing his saucer pathetically skywards, as if to take Heaven to witness 224 of the perversity of lunatics. " All patients wish to be freed, my dear sir; it is one of the most perplexing characteristics ot their affliction." " Do you mean, then, that it would be characteristic of a sane man to desire remaining in confinement ?" asked Quilpin Leech, with astonished irony. At this Dr. Rogur smiled, for he was a man of the world enough to turn off into a joke any question difficult to face. He said Mr. Leech should see the patient himself according to his wont ; and went to a wall, where he pulled three times a metallically resonant bell. A head-keeper in plain clothes arrived, and touched his forelock to Leech as an old acquaintance. After a renewed and dismal warning from Dr. Rogur as to the heavy responsibihties incuned by those who interrupt the medical treatment of lunatics, Leech followed the keeper through a small door to his left, and found himself in Ward B of the Asylum. It was by ". favour not often accorded that Leech was allowed to cuter the ward, for there was a regulation that patients should see their friends in special rooms in the private parts of the house. The asylum numbered about seventy male patients, some of them mad, others harmlessly imbecile, and others not mad at aU. This last set comprised old gentlemen of irritable temper who had become obnoxious to their nearest relatives, other old gentlemen with fortunes who had evinced incHnation to many their house-keepers, and whom their heirs had con- fined in order that their prospective inheritances might not come to naught through such matrimonial indulgences ; misbeliaved youngsters, again, whom their guardians found it too much trouble to try and reclaim, and accordingly placed tinder Dr. Rogur's care in the hope that death might relieve them of their harass- ing anxieties ; and lastly, obstreperous persons who happened to possess annoying secrets regarding big people. Our faultless British Constitution has taken minute care that no one shall be caged in a public prison without trial ; but it has over- looked the life-long imprisonment and the slow death that may be iufiicted upon any friendless man under the simple warrant of two doctors — no matter what doctors. It is true that inspectors periodically visit all asylums. Punctually once in every three months a pair of curious functionaries swooped down on Dr. Rogur's, and the better to assure themselves that all things were properly conducted paid their visits at fixed dates, so that Dr. Rogur and his household might be duly pre- pared for their coming. Pencil in hand these gentlemen strolled through the wards, and if any patient remonstrated against his confinement, alleging himself sane, the inspectors took polite note of his observations, but once the patient's back turned, Dr. Rogur had his formula cut and dried : — " You have seen that poor fellow in one of his lucid intervals," he would say, with commisseration, " and in theii" lucid intervals these lunatics are often much more rational than sane people ; but you should have seen the unfortunate man a week ago when his last attack was on him !" There is nothing to say in answer to such a way of putting facts. The inspec- tors have not time to sit down round a lunatic and watch liim every day for three months to see wheth he is liable to attacks : and as they are pestered by innumer- able genuine lunrUcs .11 protesting ther sanity, they readily confound one occasion- ally reasonable man with the mass of others who are not so. This is all the easier to do as there are few men so iron of nerve as to be able when unjustly immured among madmen to state tUeir case without displaying some excitement or emotion — and these displays are generally set down as indi atious of the malady which the petitioner denies. Moreover, it is not enough that a case should be composedly stated : it must be credible and acceptable to official ears. The man who begins by saying that he was never mad at all brings thereby a criminal charge against the two doctors who confined hun, and throws away all chances of a hearing. The inspectors ai'e surfeited with lunatic recitals of odious conspiracies and mer- cenary doctors ; and on principle they decline to entertain any accounts which, proved, would subject the accused doctors to a sentence of penal servitude. The allei[ed lunatic's only chance of release consists in admitting that he was perhaps insane when he was first confined, but that he has been cured and is now fit to take care of himself. If he has fortitude enough to swallow this pill, it may be 225 ; it is oue to desire ) turn off lie patient 3 times a uched bis warning ^rrupt the 1 door to enter the in special t seventy not mad d become who bad ; bad con- ;o naught liom tbeir :ly placed ir harass- annoying n minute has over- ,'ted upon tter what y once in . Rogur's, cted paid duly pre- be wards, sane, the k turned, ow in one leir lucid but you k was on le inspec- :or three iunumer- occasion- bo easier immured emotion nrhicb the mposedly ho begins against bearing. xnd mer- ts which, le. The ) perhaps low fit to may be that at the end of a year or so — that is, when they have conversed with him at three or four of their visits and found him invariably cool, gentle, and rational — the inspectors may begin to take an interest in hiiu ; but the success of this experiment is by no means certain, for the inspectors often change, so that a man might well have to wait for years before he saw the same inspectors three times. And besides, when a man whom it is strongly wished to detain remains obstinately sane and self-possessed, such pentlemen as Dr. Rogur have plenty of means of throwing him opportunely off his balance. There are drugs enough in the pharmacopoeia, which administered in thoughtful doses about the time of an inspection, will bring on febrile excitement just as violent as may be needed. Sometimes a wrongly-supposed madman will take French leave of his asylum, but in such cases the police of the three kingdoms may hunt him as a lunatic at large, and if he be caught his prospects are not bettered by bis flight. The magis- trate before whom he is brought for re-commitment may i)e struck by the shrewd- ness of his answers ; be has no power to release him, and can only advise him to make an appeal to the Commissioners in Lunacy — these said Commissioners being accustomed to judge of a petitioner's sanity almost solely by the reports of the doc- tors who confined him, and by those of the physicians of the asylum whence he fled. As to all these doctors it may be remarked that people now and then came to Dr. Rogur wishing to confine a dear but objectionable kinsman of theirs, and yet not knowing where to find the two medical men who are required to sign the certi- ficate. But Dr. Rogur knew — indeed he had a pair of medical fi'iends wJio made a point of signing as many certificates as he needed, and who received a commission of so mncb per cent, on all the patients whom they lodged in his asylum. This, it should be added, is an established custom in the medical profession. Dr. Conolly, who did for the reform of lunatic asylums in England what Mackintosh did for the improvement of the criminal code and of the prison system, does not scruple to own in his memoirs that lie received commissions on almost all the patients whom he sent to asylums. To sum up these casual observations, therefore, the laws which relate to the methods of determining lunacy and to the custody of lunatics require a little look- ing into. Since it is necessary for the safety of society that lunatics should be placed under restraint, lunatic asylums should, like prisons, be in charge of the Government, and all the physicians in them should be paid by salary and have no pecuniary interest whatever in the detention of patients. For so long as irrespon- sible physicians are allowed under pretexts of philanthropy to open private asylums which are simply commercial speculations, so long will there be abuses more or less startling. In houses like that of Dr. Rogur the three-fold object is to get -s many patients as possible, to make them pay largely, and to givo them the smallest amount of care and comfort for their money. Coming back now to old Mr. Marvell, we may admit that he was thoroughly mad. He had not been altogether so when first confined, but rage had crazed him as it does many others. His lunacy had taken the form of a monomania, making him imagine that the whole ofiicial world of England were in league to persecute him ; notwithstanding which he foresaw that he should be righted some day by a stupendous trial which should rouse up all Britain in his favour, enable him to recover monstrous damages from Government, and reinstate him in the office of which he had been despoiled by Mr. Keane-Mirlge. To obtain money for the expenses of this trial was his main pre-occupation, and he spent his days writing quires of gibberish under the impression that be was doing a grand " History of Persecution in All Ages," which would sell to ;he extent of a hundred editions, and bring him £20,000. He was fairly well-fed and lodged, but this was owing to Quilpin Leech's visits, and not to any diligence of his daughter's on his behalf. Patients in private asylums are attended to or neglected in proportion as they have friends who appear to care for them, and are generous in feeing the keepers. Now Leech, guessing how entirely an insane man must be dependent en the kindness of his attendantb, left frequent vails in the hands of the head-keeper, and of the minor attendant with «^hom Mr. Marvell shared with half a dozen other lunatics, one Gurdles. 15 226 This Gurdles — a pug-faced person — was seated in Mr. Marvell's room sucking his thumbs when Leech entered. It was a decent apartment, differing in no wise from an ordinary lodging-house sitting-room, except that there was a thin wire grating before the window, and Mr. Marvell was seated at a table near this window, and writing with the same unabated frenzy as when he lived at Mrs. Legge's in Surrey-street. He was satisfactorily dressed, however, and in honour of Sunday had a clean shirt on (the usual allowance for patients unvisited was one a week). He rose on seeing Leech, and walked forward with alacrity, but in a not undigni- fied manner, to shake his hand ; at the same time he motioned to Gurdles to retire. " How do you do, my only friend," he said, with fervour ; "your coming is like sunshine to me. God bless you for bearing with a morose captive's whims and crooked temper. But all this will soon be over. Leech, very soon — freedom and redress can't be for ever delayed." " No, and they'll come even sooner than you expect, I trust," said Leech, cheerily, as he took a seat and drew some parcels from his pockets. "Well, not sooner than I expect, fori count on being free in a few days, Leech. I've my plan, my good friend. Listen ." And the old man, sham- bling to the door, opened it with cunning suddenness to see that Gurdles was not listening outside ; but, Gurdles being innocent of such a trick, he resumed : — " My plan's this, my good friend : I'll escape, for I've found the means. A man can release himself when ho sets his mind on it, and when I'm free I'd first have my revenge on those who've put me here, and then institute my great suit against the Crown. By the way, have you brought my proofs?" "Yes,'' said Leech, laying one of the parcels on the table ; and it was surely a tine sense of charity in this eccentric youth which had led him to have all the deso- late lunatic's lucubrations printed from week to week . Dr. Rogur pretended that this excited the patient, who had much better be left alone without receiving visits ; but as a matter of fact these proofs had given poor Mr. Marvell some belief in him- self and hope in the future. For more than a year they had kept despair and rav- ing outbreaks, perhaps suicide, from him. The monomaniac clutched at the proofs and unfolded them, gloating over the unconnected, rambling paragraphs with an author's exultation. ' ' God bless you again. Leech — God bless you ! It's not Grace who'd have done this for me. If it hadn't been for you, my friend, this place would have been a hell, and must have killed me long ago ! See those lunatics through the window here in the garden — stark mad all of them ? Some of them keep me awake at nights ; others swear at me and insult me when I walk among them for exercise. Well it's Grace who had me put in this vrard. There's another ward for first-class patients, where I mighi have been almost alone, with a bright room, a fine view to cheer me, and with a companion or two who are convalescent. There I might have forgotten that I was in prison ; but it's she ^rho objected to it, alleging that I might escape, though her real reason was that I should be too comfortable ; for she wants to see me dead, Leech, in my coffin, safely nailed down, and never able to trouble her more." "Come, come, Mr. Marvell, don't say such tilings ^s that," pleaded Leech, lightly again. "Here are some cigars for you, and the illustrated weeklies. Take heart ; your troubles will soon end, and you'll find that Miss Marvell has never de- sired anything but your good." The old man took a cigar, bit the end off fiercely, and with growing excite- ment, ejaculated — "That's all stuft', my good fi-iend — arrant stuff! You think I don't know all she's brewing against me, and how she means to keep me here for life ! If it weren't for the money you give Gurdles and the other keepers, they would tell me to my face ; as it is, they speak of it behind my back, but I overhear them. Of an evening when they sit down below smoking their pipes, I've crept half-way down the stairs and listened to them. They talk about the house of old Rogur, of my daughter's occasional visits to him — though she never asks for me and they've said over and over again that I'm here for life. Well, I don't wonder at it, for I knew the jade's schemes ;" he broke off with a feverish exasperation which brought a cat- like gleam into his eyes — "yes, Leech, I know it all I She placed me here that I ..^7 sucking no wise hin wire window, Bsrge's in Sunday a week), undigni- bo retire, oming is hims and dom and i Leech, BW days, m, sham- a was not lumed : — A man (irst have it against J surely a the deso- nded that ng visits ; ef in hini- • and rav- I over the bless you ne. If it nust have garden — swear at who had £ might id with a hat I was lOugh her me dead, re." d Leech, lea. Take never de- ig excite- know all e ! If it Id tell me hem. Of tvay down ur, of my ey've said or I knew ght a cat- ire that I might never be able to bring my suit against the Crown and get damages from Government. It was her paramour who prompted her to that course — the oily, plausible villain — that Mayrose, you know, who duped you into thinking he was going to take up my case." "Mayrose, Grace's paramour 1" exclaimed Leech, forgetting he was with a madman in the utter stupefaction these words caused him. " Aye, aye, I know what I'm saying," answered the old man doggedly, as he ran round his armchair like a wild beast. " The minx disgraced herself — she sold her father's honour to her gallant — and the wages of sin will fall on her like God's thunder !" " Why, Grace — Miss Marvell — is said to hate Lord Mayrose," gasped Quilpin Leech, horrified. "She makes you think so perhaps," replied Mr. Marvell curtly; " but you remember that day when she went out in her finest clothes to plead my cause before that rascal with her own lips, as she said. Well, she came back with an altered air, and she was never the same girl afterwards. I knew she was in love — girls can conceal everything but that ! She had probably thought to dazzle that debauched peer with her beauty and become his wife. But it was he who enslaved and seduced her. If he has spumed her now it is because he has induced her to do all he wanted — that is, put me out of the way of harming the Government — and has no fi.. ther use for such a worthless baggage. But for all that I'll be even with him. Leech !" hissed the old man, bringing his face so close to Leech's that his hot breath came like the blast of a stove — "Yes, I'll murder the scoundrel! And I'll murder her, and that fiend Keane-Midge ! I'll do it as soon as I've escaped, and as sure as there's a God above us ! And when I'm tried for it I'll tell the jury my whole story without lawyers' aid, and they'll acquit me ! so help me heaven, where there's justice for the oppressed." After this it was worse than dangerous to think of releasing Mr. Marvell. In the evening Quilpin Leech arrived in Kensington with a letter which he had asked Dr. Rogur to write, not liking to convey the contents himself oraUy ; and this letter he gave to Grace. She read it calmly, and when she had got to the end looked up unmoved. " It seems my father would mixrder me if set at liberty, ' she said ; then, after reflecting for a few moments : " Well, as he is incurable, I must make other arrangements. I shall go and live with Lady Canonlaugh." q<;l! 'J".'l,Uf iU (!» '.' ', CHAPTER XXV, THE IMPENDING DUEL. 'U ,.f Quilpin Leech thought it useless to tell Mayrose of his visit to the asylum, and of the menacing purport of Mr. Marvell's ravings. He considered that the poor maniac was well guarded by Dr. Rogur, and that his escape need not conse- quently be apprehended. Nevertheless, love being over jealous, the secretary could not help conning over the wild things Mr. Marvell had said. He was persuaded that they must be mere phantasies of a disordered brain ; and yet he recollected that sume time back he had overheard two men at his club — the Tabboo— discuss the scandal which the Boudoir Cabal had circulated at the time when Mayrose had taken up Mr. Mar- vell's case in defiance of the Midges — that scandal, namely, which alleged Grace Marvell to be Mayrose's mistress. Quilpin Leech was not one of those men who when they hear a lady of their acquaintance lightly spoken of, start up and bawl, " The lady in question is the purest of her sex, and I place her honour under my protection ? " He knew that such outbursts do more harm than good, and, as the talk of the two scandal-mongers had not been intended for his ears, he content- ed himself with shrugging his shoulders. Now, however, he found himaelf uneasily wondering whether Grace's aversion for Mayrose could really be inspired by a feminine pique consequent upon some advances of hers having been rejected. Trusting wholly and chivalrously in her purity he tried to laugh away the i^otion ; 228 but jealousy ia not to be mocked off, aud the more he tried to laugh the more obstinately did misgiviugB iutrude upon him. He would have cut his tongue off, however, sooner than breathe a word of his doubts to Mayrose ; for he was convinced that, whatever might have been Miss Marvell's sentiments, Mayrose's feeling towards Grace ha€ always been those of complete indifference ; and the idea that Mayrose could have trifled even for a moment with Grace was to him preposterous. Leech sincerely liked and respected his cousin, who treated him much like a brother, and took every occasion of be- friending him and his family. It has already been said that although Mayrose professed to hate nepotism, and really did so where others were concerned, he did not hold that in recognizing the merits of his own relatives he acted as a nepotist, and accordingly several of Quilpin's brothers had been installed by him one after another in small posts of emolument. The Fulham Leeches, Mayrose's erewhile hostile kinsmen, had also picked up a few plums which the African Secretary had thrown in their way, rather to show that he bore them no grudge than because of their proved worthiness to live on the public monies ; and, as to Quilpin himself, Mayrose talked of nothing less than inducing Mr. Keane-Rodent, the Permanent Under-Secretaiy at the African Office, to retire on a pen&ion and a K.C.B.-ship, and putting Leech in his place. Considering that this piece of preferment would give Leech an easy berth of £1,500 for life, and much improve his position, as he fondly hoped, in the eyes of Grace, the Secretary — though, of course, disliking nepotism too — had every cause to feel grateful. So he kept his peace, and went about his duties as industriously as usual dur- ing the days following the last-recorded events, and whilst other events, interesting to his cousin and to himself, proceeded on their course. Poor Lady Pennywoddle was pompously buried ; a few days afterwards the Rio-Brigande Loan was at length issued ; aud meantime Grace left Sir Ham's house to go and live with Lady Canonlaugh — a step which distressed Leech, for he could no longer visit her, and run obediently on her errands. He had little leisure, however, to give way to his distress, for now the London season was speeding to its end ; the Universal Suf- frage Bill had well-nigh got through committee in the House of Commons ; the debate and anxiously expected tussle in the Lords was approaching, and Mayrose devoted a good deal of time to preparing his speech with his secretary, the latter's help consisting of something more than notes. The two lived all alone in the big house, being continually together now that Mary was gone ; and as Mayrose wished his speech — or rather speeches, for he would probably have to deliver more than one — to be better than mere improvisa- tion, he adopted a practice familiar to orators in the past, and rehearsed his argu- ments, with Leech sitting by to play the part of refuter. Leech had a keen scent for sophistry, and while Mayrose paced to and fro, declaiming in language more or less vehement, Quilpin would prick up his ears, and cut in occasionally with pointed rejoinders, demolishing a period more ornate than sound. It was strenuous work, and the colloquies between the statesman and his secretary were often as quick and vigorous as a hotly-played game of racquets ; but Leech had to argue now on the Tory side, now on the Radical ; and as he acquitted himself rather better in the former capacity than in the latter, Mayrose would sometimes say with a smile, " You would be a gain to the True Blues if they had you in the house," whereat Leech would answer mildly, " Radicalism I'equires a twistful sort of logic — it isn't easy to argue straight for a party who do not know what they want, and will never be satisfied till they get it." Well, one morning as Leech came down to the study for one of these bouts, he was surprised to find Mayrose displaymg a blue document on the writing-table, and the butler standing by expectant, with a quill in his hand : — " I want you and Ash- more kindly to witness my will," saiil Mayrose quietly. The butler and the secretary each appended their signature as desired ; when they had done so Ashmore retired, and Mayrose folded up his will, putting it in a large envelope, which he sealed in five places. This done he thought a minute, then locked the packet in his desk, and taking up a bundle of detached papers, exclaimed in the tone of one who wants to drive absorbing thoughts away : " Now the more >rd of his een Miss I those of ?en for a respected on of be- Mayrose d, he did nepotist, one after erewhile jtary had ecaiise of 1 himself, ermanent 3. B. -ship, 3nt would on, as he disliking isual dur- nteresting mywoddle m was at vith Lady ; her, and ray to his 'ersal Suf- aons ; the I Mayrose he If^tter's now that for he nprovisa- ieen scent age more ally with strenuous e often as to argue f rather say with house," of logic — ant, and bouts, he ;able, and and Ash- sd ; when »g it in a minute, papers, : "Now 229 for our rehearsal ; just follow me with these notes, please, and see whether I have got up my historical precedents correctly. I shall not probably require to trouble you about my speech again after this morning," and saying this Mayrose began to recite some arguments in a voice which was at first measured, but which gradually grew faster and warmed. Leech listened mechanically for a few minutes, tur-ing over the notes and verifying dates as Mayrose uttered them ; but soon he folt as if something within him was stirred, and he looked up. It was a singular scene — the Minister speaking as though he were addressing a crowded house, antl the secretary hearkening with an attention full of gravity. But there was admiration in this attention, for never had MajTose so exerted him- self — never had his subject seemed so thoroughly to possess him. His arguments were delivered in sequence strongly linked, his images were forcible, his language was terse, natural, and elegant; and rose at the peroration to the highest order of eloquence. Leech had long ceased following the notes when Mayrose finished, and he clapped his hands with unfeigned enf husiam : — " Bravo ! only it's margaritas ante porcum : it is a sheer waste to have made such a speech before one alone !" " Do you think it will do ?" said Mayrose indifferently, as he passed his hand- kerchief over his brow. " Well I want the speech to be good, for I dare say it will be the last I shall ever make, at least as a Minister." " Why so ?" asked Leech, noddiug his interrogatory wisp of hair. Mayrose glanced at him keenly. " Have you not heard of the affair between myself and Lord Hornette?" " I have heard nothing." " Really? Then secrets are better kept than I should have thought. Well, at the end of the session I shall most likely have to resign to fight a duel with Lord Hornette. That is why I have been making my will." Leech listened in the profoundest amazement while Mayrose informed him of this duel and explained that it was to be a bona fide combat, though he gave none of the reasons which had brought the fight about. "It's a foolish business," added he, with a sad smile ; " and I rely upon you to say nothing about it to anybody. But I have told you because you are my relative, and because I want you to do me a service. If I am killed you will open that desk there where the will is, and you will find a letter addressed to a lady. You will take it, please, and give it into the lady's own hands and keep the matter for ever secret. May I rely on you ?" "You may rely on me for anything," faltered Leech, standing up, and scarcely able to beheve what he heard. But — but — there is surely no danger ?" " Oh, I hope not," replied Mayrose, with an effort to talk lightly, " but it is always well to take one's precautions, so here is a duplicate key of my desk " — he unfastened a small gold key from his watch ring as he said this — " and remember that you will speak of the letter in question to no one — not even to my wife." " To no one," repeated Leech, with an emotion which rendered him almost in- articulate. " Thanks," said Mayrose, with seeming relief. "And now don't look down- hearted, for plenty of people have outlived duels. I must be off for the present to see what mischief Mr. Keane-Rodent has been doing during the night. You may trust me to get you put into that gentleman's place before I go ; and in sooth I should die the happier for having discomfited at least one of the Midge connection during my stay in office." He smiled as he nodded to his secretary in going out ; but Quilpin Leech sat with his hair all standing, and in anything but a mood for smiling. It was quite true that he had heard nothing about the duel, and this for the sufficient reason that secrets of this sort are not easily bruited in England. Abroad, in countries which are supposed to enjoy no liberty of the press, a fracas between a great noble and a Cabinet Minister would quickly have found its way into all the papers ; but in these isles the press is free to the extent of discussing nothing that concerns the doings of important people, and there was not a London journal of repute would have dared to insert a rumour which would have instantly brought down a flat contradiction from the interested parties, and much public animadversion into the 280 bargain. Even in society people were chary of believing the vague report of sun- dry whisperers ; for Lords Beaujolais and Balbie Drone and little Sir Tito Tumb avouched that there had been nothing more than a mere tiff of words between May- rose and the Earl, and few sober persons deemed it credible that ah English Min- ister and a Duke's eldest son truly intended to fight like Frenchmen, Irishmen, or savages. It was thus that Zellie Carol had heard nothing of the quarrel that had arisen for her sake, although she was living with her sister, who knew all the details and privately revelled in them. Violet made a prudenl ooint of never alluding to May- rose or Lord Hornette in Zellie's presence, and yet this duel secret was one that burned her young lips, and she would talk so often of duels to these and those of her friends, just to see whether they wo\ild hint at their knowledge of coming strife, that she ended by doing so in the hearing of Zellie on the very day when Mayrose had disclosed the matter to Quilpin Leech. It was at a ball given by the ex-Chamberlain, Lord Uphill ; for since her re- covery Zellie had taken to attending all the entertainments of fashion, and many inferred from this that she had entered the marriage-market again. The truth was, however, that she had been goin^ to parties solely in the hope of meeting Mayrose there ; and since Lady Pf^nnywodfll; 3 death, she had gone in the hope that she might hear him spoken of. '■ ''lat >. would have said to him had they met she knew not ; but her longing to see ni.n was as intense as his own yearning, though resolutely-contained, desir^i to see her. The ball was strikingly ' vov-crowdecl, and Zellie had just danced a waltz with one of the must pushing amc^g ] •. no,', auorers — the polo loving, fox-chasing, Hurlingham-frequenting Earl of Heigho — when in trying to get back to her seat, she and her partner were stopped by a throng emerging from another room, and found themselves behind Violet, who was chatting with Mr. Dexter. The editor and ex-M.P. had been introduced to both the sisters in the course of the season ; and there was nothing extraordinary that he should be in converse with a marchio- ness, for he got on famously with everybody worth knowing. " What a crush there always is at these balls !" Violet was saying, as she gathered up her wide-spreading skirts ; " and then everybody pushes so ! I really believe, Mr. Dexter, that gentlemen are much more uncouth since duelling has been abolished." "Ladies ought to revive duelling — it was a great protection to them," concur- ed the editor, smiling. "Yes ; but the penalties are so dreadful ! They do shocking things to people who fight, do they not ? " *' It depends. If I fought I should be imprisored, a shopman might be sent into penal servitiide, and a working-man would be hanged ; but if any of our betters — say Lord Mayrose and Lord Hornette — drew each other's blood there would be a inock trial before the House of Lords, and an acquittal ; for we live in a just land, where laws are equal." " Then you have heard of the coming duel ? " exclaimed Violet, looking archly at the editor as thoiigh somewhat scandalised that one in his position should pre- sume to know what went on in the highest circles. Violet wore her blonde hair fluffed over her forehead poodlewise, as the fashion demanded ; and made an admirably doggy little marchioness, full of dignity and bark. " I only know this because I have the honour of speaking to your ladyship," answered the editor with a demure laugh. " With ordinary people I should plead ignorance, I assure you." "Mind you continue to be ignorant then," tittered Violet; and as Lord Uphill then accosted her, she disengaged herself from Mr. Dexter, and sailed away with her noble host. Lord Heigho and Zellie had been standing within earshot all the while, but his lordship had not heard because he had been bemoaning to Zellie the pobr pros- pects of grouse-shooting. Noticing that his partner returned no answers to his very luminous prosing on this topic he glanced at her and perceived that she had become suddenly pale ond that her arm trembled. 231 an For a moment, indeed, after Violet was gone, Zellie stood as if rooted to the Sot, then abruptly drew Lord Heigho towards Mr. Dexter. " How do you do, r. Dexter ? " she said, in a quavering voice. " I see you do not dance." " Pardon me, and if your ladyship will do me the favour " " With pleasure ; there is a quadrille beginning now," and to the disgust of Lord Heigho, amazed by the impudenc« of this newspaper man, she took the Edit- or's arm just as Messrs. Toote and Dinye's band were crashing out the prelude to the last operetta selection. It must be owned that a gust of glory flew up to Mr. Dexter's head like cham- pagne. It was one of his theories — and a true one — that a man can win a Boyal Princess just as easily as a beggar maid if he sets the right way to work ; and the recollection that Lady Azalea Carol was unengaged, consequently wooable and hence winnable, had shaped itself in his alert mind even before he had smgled out a vis-a-vis. She was adorably pretty — more so than her sister, though of graver beauty — rich, too, intellectual^ no tea-cake-and-rosewater ladyship ; and " Lady Azalea Dexter" was a style that would hav looked wondrous well in those reports of high life festivities which are inserted in the Morning Post. But Mr. Dexter was not long in learning that Lady Azalea had not invited him to dance with her from any personal pining after his companionship. " I overheard you say there was to be a duel between Lord Mayrose and Lord Hornette ?" said she, frankly, as they took up their position, and her large hazel eyes glanced straight into his. " Yes," bowed Mr. Dexter, and he was man enough not to feel as if cold water had been dashed on his dream ; for few things promote wooing better than a secret which a lady wants to hear, and which a gentleman is able to tell. The editor easily guessed how matters stood, but he wisely determined to let Lady Azalea interrogate him, so that there might be the value of a service rendered in his reve- lations. " And when is this duel going to take place ?" continued Zellie with agitation, and waving her fan. " I believe Lord Mayrose is going to resign immediately after the session, and the two enemies will go to the Continent." " And everybody knows of this — yet can no one prevent it?" cried Zellie, in a, voice at once querulous and doubting. •' Oh, very few people know of it, and those who do are persuaded that the duel will never come off," answered Mr. Dexter, composedly. " I confess, though, to thinking that it will come off." " And have you any idea as to the cause of the duel ?" This time it was Mr. Dexter's turn to look into Zellie's eyes. ' " The ostensible cause is some money quarrel, but two men of that rank do not fight about money. There must be some lady at the bottom of it." Zellie blushed red, her breast heaved tumultuously, and she looked as if she were on the point of fainting. •' I think I will not dance this quadrille," she murmured, taking his arm. " I feel unwell — excuse my questions, but you know Lord Mayrose is an old friend of ours." '• I am aware of it," answered Mr. Dexter with feeling, as he led her out of the set. Then lowering his voice : " If your ladyship would like to hear the whole truth about this unhappy affair, and try to stop the duel, why do you not speak to Lord Mayrose himself? He rides in Kotten Row every morning at seven o'clock, when there is scarcely anyone there." This was a bold stroke, but Mr. Dexter divined that Zellie would feel eternally grateful to him. She cast him a quick look of thankfulness as he led her back to her seat ; and then with a low bow he withdrew. A couple of hours afterwards, when Zellie had returned home, she said to her maid, " Stitchett, send seme one to the stables, please, to say I shall ride at seven o'clock to-t">orrow morning." *• Will Lady Chevychase ride, too ?" asked Miss Stitchett, rather surprised. " No," answered Zellie, " I shall ride alone with the groom." 232 CHAPTER XXVI. " HOW MWCH THE WRETCHED DARE." Hyde Park at early morning. The red jackets of loug troops of Life Guards- men exorcising their black chargers glance through the trees ; grooms are break- ing-in ladies' hacks in the Row ; riding masters -.nd mistresses cantor along with troops of very young pupils not afraid of getting cut of bed at six ; and up and down the road from Apsley House to the Marble Arch a score of purple or yellow breaks, driven by knowing whips, spank along at the sharp trot of tyro phaeton horses or of restive teams being trained for four-in-hand. On the doorsteps of all the houses overlooking the Park rosy housemaids are on their knees making the slabs snowy with bath-brick, or standing up and polishing brass bell-knobs ; and inside the Park grey water-carts crawl along laying the dust ; while gardeners, stooping over the beds of geranium and mignonette, are trimming shoots or plying hose. Here and there gangs of masons or road-menders trudge along to their work in their white flannel jackets and with their tin tea-bottles and dinner-bundles slung over their shoulders ; and flocks of boys, with hair rumpled and wet, towels in hand and damp dogs gambolling in front of them, return from the Serpentine, where they have been bathing — in accordance with the immunities of this free land — unscreened, drawerless, and wild. These early risers are crossed by casual brou- ghams bearing homewards from late cotillions yawning youths in evening clothes, or sleepy bevies of belles ; and meantime the much-malif^ned London sun, as yet unblinded by coal-smoke, shines in a clear blue sky, and sheds a saflron light over the scene. The leafy trees, the short grass, the flowers and gravel-walks look cool and dewy ; and in the distance, away beyond Constitution Hill, the Crystal Palace can be seen towering over a forest of houses like an enchanted castle of ruby, every one of its cornices tipped with golden flame. Such is Hyde Park in ordinary mornings ; bii. as Zellie rode through Gros- venor Gate the park was almost empty, for the air was sultry, and the sky overhead glowered with menaces of a storm. Half the night through sheet lightning had glittered over the city, and now great masses of inky clouds rolled over the heavens, and the rumble of approaching thunder was audible. Zellie passed the gate at a canter, followed by one of those upright young grooms with cheeks like peaches, and she made straight for the Row ; when she reached it, however, and descried nothing but a solitary horseman or two floating like shadows in an avenue, her heart drooped lest Mayrose should not be there. But he was there. He had taken to riding early in the morning because he was too busy to do so at other periods of the day, and because regular exercise at some time or other was a necessity to one so fagged. The comparative solitude of the hour also cliimed in with his latterly melancholy mood ; and yet though solitary and groomless he was not unknown, for he had become a familiar figure to most of the park-keepers and policemen, who touched their head-dresses to him, and to many riders, who turned round to stare at him as he ambled by, and wondered doubtless that a man whose future was so brilliant, and who was talked of as a future Prime Minister, should look so grave and stern. One day, too, a grey man had mished into the road and thrust a petition into Mayrose's hands. He was an old ofl&cer who had grown grizzled in colonial service, and whom Mr. Keane-Rodent and other clerks of his connection were trying to frustrate of his pension. Remembering Mr. Marvell's case, Mayrose had promptly and peremptorily seen justice done him ; and ever since that day the old officer, buttoned up to the throat, walked along the railings every morning to lift his hat to the Minister. Mayrose smiled to him, inwardly warmed by the homage of his humble friend, and perhaps the old oflScer was the only man who did not think that Lord Mayrose was over proud and supercilious. On rode Zellie, her horse's hoofs tossing up clouds of the dry sand around. Her dark blue habit fitted her without a plait. She sat erect, weigning nothing on the reins with her white doeskin gloves, and making no use of the little gold-headed riding whip in her hand ; but her eyes scanned the prospect in front as the trees ill 233 dropped one after another behind her ; and at length, when she was on a level with that fine specimen of wedding-cake architecture, the Albert Hall, she perceived Mayrose. He was riding alone, with his face turned upwards glancing at the sky, and he had just quickened his pace, for a few chilling drops of rain had begun to fall and the rumble of the thunder was deepening into a growl. Zellie spurred in his direction, wheeled her horse abruptly round on a line with his, and held out her hand, which trembled. " Freddy, I have come out on purpose to meet you. They tell me you have quarrelled with Lord Horuette, and are going to fight him. This must not be — such a man is not worth your anger '?" All this was said at a panting breath, and before Mayrose could reahze who was speaking. Turning pale, he lifted his hat ; then took the hand extended to him. As he did so his fingers trembled more than ZelUo's. It had come, then, at length, this rencontre which he had longed for,yct dreaded ! Often he had thought of putting himself in the way of meeting ZelUe, but had been deterred by his duty to Mary, and now, seeing her near him and alone for the first time since his mar- riage, all his being thrilled. He held her hand a second longer than he suspected, but he did not seek to evade her question, for her eyes had plunged into his with a scrutiny too searching for equivocation. " Yea, Zellie, I have quarrelled with Hornotte," he said, rapidly; "he has slandered me, and I have warned him that unless he apologises 1 shall expect of him the only satisfaction one can obtain in such cases." " His slanders are not the only reasons of your quarrel," exclaimed Zellie, in excitement ; " there is another cause, and I know it." " You know it ? " "Yes ; and he shall not harm a hair of your head. You shall not hurt him either ; for you would bring trouble upon yourself, and your life shall not be ruined through me." The rain had begun to quicken — ih was falling in large, fast drops ; and just at that moment a steel-blue streak of forked lightning slit through the dark clouds, and produced a metallic clap of thunder that seemed to rend the whole heavens. It was instantly followed by a drenching cataract of water, and Zellie's horse shied, reared, and laid its ears back. " Let us get under shelter," cried Mayrose, grasp- ing at Zellie's bridle. "No! What does the lightning matter to me?" exclaimed ZelUc, with sudden wildness ; and giving her horse a cut with the whip, she let him have his head. The affrighted beast sprang forward, and Zellie throw her head back as if the torrents of rain and the electricity in the atmosphere were intoxicating her. " I wish tha lightning would strike me dead," she panted. " This is madness ! " ejaculated Mayrose, starting into a gallop to get by her side. At the same time Zellie's groom, thinking his mistress's mount had bolted, came pounding along the other way. But Mayrose, perceiving Zellie's hack to be a mild-tempered animal and less fleet than his own, felt that he could control it himself, and so shouted to the groom tQ ride on to the lodge at the end of the Row, and see if shelter was to be obtained there. Zellie appeared to be beside herself. Her whole frame was quivering, tears streamed from her eyes, and her lips murmured words of fevered adjuration that were lost amid the raging of the storm. Mayrose, fearing she would faint or purposely let herself fall, rode in auch wise that he could have caught her ; and in their headlong course over the sand, which had now become a slough, they passed a population of startled people who seemed to have sprung up from imderground, and who, as they imprudently hud- dled together under the trees, watched the reckless race with terror. A second flash of lightning, with a peal of thunder more appalling than the first, caused both horses to break into a sweat of fear and to redouble their gallop, and in that brief instant Mayrose's thoughts did mingle suicidally with Zellie's, and it seemed to him that if a thunderbolt would put an end to his troubles here, and link him and Zellie in death, he could wish for no better fate. But they arrived at the lodge without accident. The groom, steaming wet, was already waiting for them ; and Ma}rrose, tumbling off his horse rather than dismounting, caught Zellie in his arms 234 and carried her into the lodge. She allowed herself to be borne like a child. Her eyes were closed, her hat, which had fallen from her head, was trailing on her shoulders by its elastic, and her face was white as marble. The lodge-keeper and his wife were ready to minister with kind offices, and the woman suggested tea. Without waiting to hear whether her offer was accepted she hastened out, and her husband with her, muttering something about a kettle, and Mayrose and Zellie were left alone . A spasm then shot over Zellie's body, and she abruptly sprang up, as if all her faJntness had been dispelled. " We have but a minute or two more together," she gasped. " If you have ever had any regard for me, swear to me that this duel shall never take place." Then suddenly, as though her thoughts had started on a new tack, she faltered, "This reminds me of that day wth the Kingschase hounds. Do you remaraberthat day ?" '* Yes ; it is the one day of my life 1 shall never forget," ejaculated Mayrose, with an outburst of fervour and angiiish. But hear rae, Zellie — what you ask is impossible. I cannot recede from my quarrel with tliat man, for he would brand me with cowardice. Besides, my life is not so precious to me that I care to defend it. Only, should I survive, grant me this prayer which I make to you with heart- broken earnestness — promise me that you will marry, and never repeat those wishes for your own death which I have heard you utter to-day !" " I shall never marry. Oli, why do you ask me such things !" she murmured, in reproach. "I ask you them for both our sakes," exclaimed Mayrose, taking her hands and pressing them with despairing force. " I ask you these things because so long as you are not the wife of another man I shall know no peace. Our presence here together is a sin. I have a wife to whom I am bound so long as I live, and if I met you again I would not answer for myself. I repeat my prayer, Zellie, because I have a belief in a life beyond this, where every pang such as now tortures me is counted to us, and where you and I must meet again never to part. In this world let ua not see or speak to each other more. Help me in this resolvo. And now God bless yoa, and good-bye !" "No; before we part you must hear me !" she cried, clinging to him and throwing her arms around him with all her distracted strength : — " I love you, darling, as never a woman loved before ! I will be your widow watching over your fame and treasuring the memory of the days we have spent together as if the grave had closed over them ; and if ever I can sacrifice my life to spare you a pang, my darling, if ever — ever — Oh, in pity !" Her face was transfigured ; her lips sought his, and they met in an embrace that never seemed to end. Then her clasp relaxed, her head drooped with a sigh, and he siibtained her senseless in his arms. '* Fortunately at this juncture the lodge-keeper's wife bustled in, and Mayrose, drawing Zellie to a seat, pointed to h^r with a mute gesture, flung his purse into the woman's hands, and fled from the lodge like one possessed. The storm was now at the height of its fury ; lightning and thunder burst in repeated flashes and bangs through the heavens like a combat of artillery, und the rain lashed the earth in tor- rents that seemed to rebound a foot high. The groom and the three horses were under one of the arches leading into Piccadilly, but Mayrose rushed through the rain, and unheeding the stupefaction of an apple-woman, a poUceman, and some other British subjects congregated under the arch, climbed his horse, and frantically galloped homewards. The groom was too well-bred to offer any remonstrance, but watching the peer's vanishing and soaked figure, he remarked with philosophy : " That 'uU make a sewte of clothes for my lud's gentleman." Towards noon on this same day Lord Chevychase was in the morning-room, which he called his study — presumably because he studied the brands of cigars thiere — and he was curiously examining a newly invented revolver. Finding life dreary on the whole, his Lordship had converted one of the upper chambers of his zuansion into a pistol gallery, the walls and doors being so padded that the firing made no noise, and there he would wile away an hour every day in shooting at 1 ■! I 235 ild. Her ? on her Bcea, and I accepted a kettle, if all her jrou have e place." faltered, nber that Mayrose, ou ask is ild brand to defend th heart- eat those urmured, ler hands le so long jnce here and if I ;, because ires me is ihis world A.nd now him and love you, over your the grave pang, my embrace h a sigh, Mayrose, e into the as now at nd bangs th in tor- rses were ough the md some rantically ance, but Qosopliy : ing-room, of cigars iding life rs of his ;he firing^ ooting at packs of cards. He was Just thinking of going to experiment his new revolver there, and was in the act of !oa(bng it for the purpose, when there was a knock at the door, and Zellie walked in. Lord Chevychase had not seen his sister-in-law tliat morning, though he had heard of her early ride in the storm — but without being told of the incident of that ride, for Zellie knew the '•Mden means by which servants can be kept discreet. He started at seeing her so pale, and dressed in black silk as if she was in mourning, and exclaimed — •' Widing in the wain doesn't much agweo with you, Zellie ; you look hipped !" " Oh, the ride did me no harm," said Zellie gently. '* I am afraid John was more inconvenienced than I. Are you busy?" " I was loading this new wewolver. You see it has a hollow stock containing cartridges, so that when those in the chambeiS are exploded six more come up from the stock by means of a wheel, and enable you to fire twelve shots in a quarter of a minute. I was going up stairs to twy it, but if I can be of service to you—" " I am afraid I shall be disturbing yon." " I am always at your orders, Zellie, and glad to be disturbed." '-* "You are very good-natured. I had come to ask whether you would mind inviting Lord Homette to luncheon or dinner to-day?" Lord Che v ychase gave a start as if this were much too welcome a request to bo credible. " Invite Homette ? Why — why — of course, Zell, if you wish it." " I wish to see him," said Zellie, who was blushing. " And may I tell him that the invitation comes from you ?" ■■ " If you think that would be more likely to make him come." Lord Chevychase locked his revolver-box ; but he was in such amazement that he did not draw out the key. " If I go off at once I may just find him at the Brummel," he said, and straightway darted out, lea\'ing Zellie in the study. Two steps at a time bis lordship clambered upstairs to his dressing-room to throw off his velvet jacket and put on a fi"ock-coat ; but before coming down again he hastened to his wife's boxidoir to apprise her of the good tidings. Violet clapped her hands. " All, she has come to her senses at last ! She has found out how wretched it is to remain unmarried when one can be mistress of Hivesworth. How pleased poor Homette will be ; but I hope he will kill Mayrose all the same — such a wretch doesn't deserve to live ! Go oflf at once, Bertie dear ; don't lose a minute I" And Bertie dear decamped with such speed that he forgot to take any gloves, an omis- sion which added much to his commotion of mind when he found himself in the open air. Violet then made a quick move to go and join her sister, fondle her, and if need were, have a good cry with her ; but her tact suggested the reflection that Zellie had better be left alone in such a moment. If she were on the point of being reconciled to Lord Homette, premature congratulation might arouse some of that wayward spirit peculiar to women, and make her start into a new freak of obstinacy. Violet knew all about such freaks ; and so, to stave off the impatience and excitement of the next hour, rang for her Maltese dog, and laid leis If out to untangle his curls with an ivory comb, eking out this process of bta.;l;rying by Uttle interjections :— " Poo' doggy — did he object to be combed, then? And wouldn't he have a blue ribbon round his neck to be pretlier than the other dogs ? Just like a powder-puff he was, white and silky all over !" In such wise sixty minutes passed ; then a quarter of an hour. The powder- puflf dog lay on the hearthrug, combed but ill-pleased ; Violet had run twenty times to the window, looked at herself in the glass, passed her finger through the frizzly hair over her forehead, read the Morning Post and Reporter, and rung three times to give conflicting orders about lunch ; but at length a hansom clatltered up to the door, and Lords Chevychase and Homette alighted. The latter was outwardly composed but inwardly much moved. As future Duke of Bumblebeigh it had been excruciating humiliation to him to be jilted, and in a first angry moment he had refused to come with Chevychase, doubting whether he should be consulting the dignity of the house of Drone in agreeing to a recon- ciliation. But it had required Uttle pressing to make him waver, for the truth was. 236 11 ho lovod Zollio bo well that ho tvould have walked on all-fours from tlie Brummel to Grosvoiior Square, wcarinfn^ his father's coronet and followed 4iy the whole House of Lords and by the Queen's most Honourable Privy Council, if by so doing he could have made sure of obtaiuing Zcllie's hand and afTection. To compound with his conscience, however, and with the dignity of the house of Drone, Lord Hor- nette planned to treat Zellie's vagaries as tlio venial whims of a spoiled child, and coming along in the hansom he had conned over a little speech with a joke in it which tie thought would smooth matters at commencing. Violet ran down to meet the gentlemen in the dining-room, and a whispered consultation was held there. "IVfy sister is still in the study ; you had better go straight in, Lord Humette." "Yes ; go in, take her hand, and make it up," concurred the Marquis, accom- panying Hornotto to the door. Then sinking his voice so that his wife could not near : ' ' and if it all comes straight, old follow, shako hands with Mayrose after- wards. My mother-in-law asked mo to intercede with you and tell you my mind. The bickorings of this season have been like noodles and pins to rae. Lord Hornotto said nothing, but knocked at the study door. There was no answer, so ho turned the handle, and saw Zellie with her face averted and drying her eyes. It was a full instant before she turned and confronted him, and then he discerned but too plainly that there was nothing like reconrtliation in hor features. She looked funereal in her black dress, so that Lord Hornettc*.. jocular speech froze on his lips, and he grow pale with indignation at the thought that she might be going to triflo with him again. ** Lord Homotte, excuse mo for having troubled you to come," she began, be- seechingly, " but I have heard that you are going to fight with Lord Mayrose about me. Let me tell you that such a duel would bfe nuirder." •'Is that all you wished to say to me, Lady Azalea?" asked Lord Hornette, sternly, and ho bitterly regretted having come. " I wish to say that you have no right whatever to fight about mo, and that you have no cause for quarrel with Lord Mayrose, who has never said or done any- thing to injure you." '' My cause for qu.vrrelling with him is that he has robbed me of your affections — that is enough, Lady Azalea." " My lov" was never yours, so ho could not rob you of it." " But you had plighted your troth to me — you let me live for a year in the be- lief that you would be my wife — and during that time I fed my thoughts day and night with the imago of your beauty and grace, and with dreams for your happi- ness ! Then you flung me away without a word of jnty, and it was for love of him ! Why disguise it ? I know it." He broke oflf and made a step towards her. " But hear me, Lady Zell ; I will shake hands with Mayrose and forget all the past on one condition, and that is that you renew our engagement. I know that you will not. love me at first, but I will wait patiently, and trust that my infinite devotion and respect will end bv softening you. There is not another woman in England whom I would woo in this way ; but I am like a child in your hands. I can bear hard treatment from you if you leave me hope." " I will never be your wife !" cried Zellie, impetuously and with scornful anger. " When I gave you my promise I was unaware that you had misled a man who had loved me and whom I loved — yes, I am not ashamed to confess it — with an un- manly falsehood." " Mayrose never told me that he loved you," protested tUe Earl, vigorously. " I sounded him, and he said he regarded you as a sister. But, if I did use strata- gem you ought to be the last person to reproach me, for it was only done out of my blind passion for you." " Oh, 1 am not your match at casuistry, my lord," retorted Zellie, in an ac- cent of hatred and disdain. " But now I ask you again, will you forego this duel ornotr ''No," exclaimed the Earl determinedly, as a flush of exasperation mounted to his brow. "It was he who proposed the duel, not I. We shall meet man to man, and so much the worse for him if he falls." 287 " Ah, this is too mtich ! " exclaimed Zellie, transported. " You talk as if tho match between you would bo an equal one ! But who are you beside Lord May- rose ? Ho has a wife whom his death would kill — ho is a statesman with a noble future before him — one of whom the whole kingdom will be proud if ho can live tn fulfil his career. And who are you, 1 repeat I " A man who loves you," rejjlied the Earl, simply. " You are no .)ne ! " cried Zellie, with the taunting cruelty that is like a barb on the tongues of women when infuriated. " If it were not for the name and for- tune which are yours by accident, your talents and character would class you among the lowest of mankind ! No one has over hoard of you ennobling yourself by great or good acts. Nobody has ever mentioned your name with respect, grati- tude, or love ! If you died to-day, your place would be filled at tho instant, and f'ou would not be missed or mourned. Before you try to take Lord Mayrose'.-i ife, Lord Hornette, make yourself IiIh equal, that your own life may bo a fair stake against his, or else you will be a cowurd and a villain ! " " AH this is very painful and unnecesary," said Lord Hornotto, in a shocked tone. *' If I had not hated Mayrose before, 1 should do so now, from seeing how he has perverted a natiiro so gentle and pure as yours." As he said this he made for the doctr ; she rushed to bar his way, and in so doing her eyes fell upon Lord Chevychase's revolver case, which still lay on tho table. It is opportunities of this sort which beget desperate crimes. Zellie Carol was scarci'ly conscious of her actions ; she was sobbing and distraught. With an instantaneous impulse she darted to the table : the ca.se flew open ; she seized the revolver, and pointed it at the Earl. "Lord Hornette, look to yourself! You pi « vented mo from being Lord Mayrose's wife, but I have sworn to remain his sister, and to watch over him — to sacrifice my life for him if I had the chance. God has thrown this weapon in my way ! Swear to me that you will abandon your enmity against the man you have misjudged, foully slandered, and persecuted, or I shoot you dead and then kill myself ! The loss of both of us will not be felt ; it will avert greater evils, and Heaven shall decide the extent of my guilt." Horrified at the turn matters had taken. Lord Hornette stood as if in a trance. But he was brave to the core, and did not stir an inch or exclaim. " You are forget- ting yourself. Lady Azalea ; " he said, quietly, " Please put down tho firearm ; it is a dangerous weapon for a lady to play with." " Then God have mercy on you ! " cried Zellie, convulsively, and she pulled the trigger. An astounding report, a crash and shiver of broken glass, and a cloud of smoke ; but Zellie's hand had trembled, and Lord Hornette stood unscathed. Through the smoke ho saw Zellie turn the revolver towards herself, but in one bound ho had sprung to her side, and wrenched it by main force from her hand . At the same instant Violet and Lord Chevychase burst in. " What has happened? " inquired the Marquis, aghast. " Oh ! it's nothing," answered Lord Hornette, with a laugh. " I had taken up your revolver, not knowing it was loaded, and it went off" in my hands. You shouldn't keep such things on your table, Chevychase, for I am afraid I have frightened Lady Zell." '■1 BOOK III. CHAPTER I. "vox POPULI VOX DEI." You may be sure it was a fine morning when the first general election by the Universal Suffrage of males and females was held in London. The month was December. The day had dawned with a woolly fog, but this cleared away towards ten, and then flocks of women began to be seen trudgin<][ thiough tho mist to exercise thei rights. Loudon was to return seventy members, that is, one for every 50,000 inhabitants. There were new constitueucies, named Pimhco, Mayfair, Tyburn, Kensington, Covont Garden, St. John's Wood, White- chapel, and heaven knows what else. Each of them was to i-eturn one representa- tive, and they were assessed with an average of four candidates apiece. Never, indeed, had such a herd of candidates been witnessed. Britain had broken out into a malignant eruption of them. All adventurers who were not suc- cessful in honest work, briefless barri&teia. third-rate journalists, half-educated cobblers, lired of heeling and soleing, conceited prigs, who had been on a tour to America or the Antipodes, and thought themselves qualified to brag of their experi- ence on the strength of these travels ; mad sophists, suubbed inventors, cashiered officers, disberred advocates, the whole dowdy phalanx of men "with a grievance" — all these self- asserting persons had rushed howling into the electoral field. During the four months that had elapsed between the cloe 3 of the session and the election, the kingdom had been filled with a huge blatant din. The two grtat parties in the State had tried to organize their forces, but the spirit of independence was too rife for the decrees of caucuses to be obeyed. As every candidate thought he had a chance under this new system, no man would retire in favour of a rival ; and all that could be prognosticated by Colonel Dandelion and Mr. Bellwether, the "whip" on the other side, was that the time for moderation in opinions had passed. The candidates who seemed to be making the best way in their canvass were those who professed the wildest autocratic Conservatism or Radicalism fraught with viru- lence and Iconoclasm verging on lunacy. And now the day of election had at last arrived. We are believed to be an undemonstrative people by those who judge us when we are not excited ; but on this occasion there was a current of electricity in the air, making men's and women's tongues wag and theu- brows flush. To use the jargon of the newspapers, the Eng- land of the past had vanished, and the aurora of a new England was rising, peaceful, splendid and democratic. So cabmen splendidly shouted and flourished their whips as they hied through the streets with flaming pt sters on their vehicles, inscribed with such catches as " Free Land !" " Free Church !" " Free Dinner- table !" "Everything Free !" The gin-shopsdrove a roaring trade in fiery drink? and boozy principles. Candidates were entrenched in houses everywhere about, and bawled out of the windows. And wherever a voting-place was established, gesting, grinning, horse-playing throngs were congi'egated to see the women coming up to vote. They came up in vast numbers, and they were just the sort of women who, it had long been predicated, would oe the only ones to use their rights. TJie high- bom ladies who had toyed with the question of sufi'rage as an amusing innovation ; the decent women of the educated classes, wives, widows, or sisters, had judged it prudent to stay at home at the last moment ; but females of the Miss Minerva type — childless, loveles'?, graceless, ill-favoured champions of contagious maladies, dis- secting-room studies, and all uncleanness — abounded ; and so did Poll, Sally, and Meg, staggering up shrieking, down at heel and drunken from the slums, to give their voice as to how a great Empire should be governed. Here and there it re- freshed one to see in the tide of degraded womanhood some valorous mother squar- 239 ction by the 3g, but this en trudging; y members, 3ies, named ood, White- representa- Britain bad ere not suc- ilf-educated )n a tour to heir experi- s, cashiered grievance " ield. session and B two great dependence ate thought r of a rival ; wether, the lad passed. were those t with viru- ed to be an ed ; but on id women's the Eng- was rising, . flourislied )ir vehicles, ree Dinner- lery drink? lere about, jstablished, len who, it Tlie high- inovation ; I judged it nerva type ladies, dis- Sally, and ns, to give here it re- ther squar- ing her elbows and going to vote for a candidate who avowed a belief in God and devotion to the principles which had made of England in old time the leading na- tion of the world ; but they were the exception, for what did the Misses Minerva know of God, and what did Poll, Sally, and Meg, care for the history of England ? To the former of these female hordes God was an exploded superstition, man an improved newt, and the soul a bundle of nerves ; and to the latter England was a place chokeful of lords who fared sumptuously, while poor Jack and Jerry often swore for want of a good meal. In the poorer quarters all the greed and savage class-hatred of pauperdom had been undyked, and ignorance and misery combined had raised their maniacal hopes that all social inequalities were about to be re- moved now that the famished were going to rule the roast. But it was curious to observe another kind of social defiance that was being flaunted in such districts as Pimlico, where the feminine electorate was largely made up of casino frequenters, flashy, tawdry, and all " gay," to borrow their own charming expression. These enfranchised females had their ideas for regenerating society, too ; but, to do them justice, they evinced more modesty than the Minervas, who most of them had only been saved from a career of gaiety by the drawback of not being good-looking. Now Mr. Quintus Dexter was the candidate for Pimlico. He had allowed himself to be nominated in Hiveshire, but wisely desired to have two strings to his bow, and he had spent the recess in canvassing the petticoated electors of his consti- tuency not unmerrily. At the hour when voting was at its height he sallied forth on horseback to survey the progress of matters. He was admirably dressed, had a flower in his coat, lavender gloves, and a liveried groom behind hira ; for he had too much sense to play the American trick of appearing shabby to please the Un- washed. The Unwashed love to see a candidate well clothed, though they covet his fine attire, and Mr. Dexter was frequently cheered on his way. He answered by good-liumoured nods and touches of his hat-brim, and he only departed from his aristocratic quietness on reaching a ballot-booth. Here he reined in, and called out with deliciously dry impertinence to a mob of working men, who, as usual, were doing nothing — " Will one of you gentlemen kindly hold my groom's horse while that inde- pendent elector goes to discharge his rights of citizenship." And saying this he flung half-a-dozen sovereigns among the working gentlemen who hustled forward. " Hurrah for bribery ! " hiccoughed these Britons, as they scrambled for the coins. " Yes, it's bribery, but in the interest of the other side," replied Mr. Dexter, with a smile, " I expect you to vote for Odge the shoemaker." The groom alighted amid the scrimmage, and ran in, grinning, to vote for or against his master ; and while Mr. Dexter was being gaped at, and was standing a fire of small chaff from such of the free and independents as had not succeeded in pickin' up money, a well-appointed brougham dashed up and released Miss Margatuc Top — better known as Pegtop — and Misp Kitty Frizzles, both of the Bijou Theatre. This pair had come to vote in demure black silk dresses, and with some fear of having cabbage stalks flung at them ; but the mob were much im- pressed by their comeliness and splendour, and waxed admiring. Seeing which Miss Pegtop gathered heart, and sang out — ■ [i: " Quintus, we are going to vote against you I " .1 , 1 .; • - M< "I don't believe it." " You'll see. What will you give for our two votes i " "Come near me, and I'll show you." " I dare say. ' Hands off' is my motto, and Odge is the man for my money ! " ic. " Don't say that," laughed Mr. Dexter. " People will think you owe him a boot bill, and you've too much taste to be shod by such a fellow. He's only good enough to make a member of Parliament of." The working gentlemei). guffawed, the acti esses rustled in to vote, and whether they ,:7ave their suffrages to the editor of the Reporter is uncertain. At all events, Mr. iAexter was elected that daj'^ both in Pimlico and Hiveshire. He had greatly advanced his candidateship by spreading thousands of gratis copies of his news- paper in his two constituencies : but it was characteristic of the respect in which 240 he held the new electorate that he had drawn up for hia town electors an address differing in many essentials from that which he submitted to the biimpkins. On being invited one evening at a public meeting in Pimlico to reconcile these discre- pancies, he had retorted courteously that he never answered unpleasant questions after dinner. But meanwhile the results of elections held in the provinces on the previous days were being published in special editions of the morning journals, and they showed a truly lamentable rout of the government families. Never would anyone have suspected that there could have been such a holocaust of Drones, Midges, Eodents, and Keane-Foresters. Among political theorists it had long been held that the Liberalism of England was not as that of some other heaven-forsaken countries — France, Spain, Rio-Brigande, and the like — that it was a thoughtful Liberalism, contained within bounds, and tending nowise to revolutionaryism. These wise students of human nature forgot that if the Liberalism of England had hitherto been kept within bounds, it was owing to her institutions, which were like mighty breakwaters, and that once these breakwaters were removed, the apj es of the ignorant and unscrupulous would break loose here as in other lands. The peasant masses having no prefects to weigh upon them, and being shielded by ihe ballot, had become easy dupes to agrarian agitators, just as the workmen in cities had let themselves be hoaxed by stump Republicans. On the other hand, in Ire- land reactionary Roman Catholics were the chief victors, thanks to the women ; and both in Scotland and "Wales, Liberal up to that time, the old deference to lairdship had asserted itself among the illiterate, rough-tongued peasantry, and had produced an astonishing crop of Conservatives. England had for this once returned the shaggiest lot of members, and seemed in truth to have fairly kicked over the traces. Lord Hornette, Dolly Drone, and Balbie Drone — all the Drones, in fact — had suc- cumbed to patriots with such names as Hodge, Codge, and Dodge ; and their only consolation was that a similar fate had overtaken the great House o^ Dolittle, which exercised the same influence as that of Drone on the opposite side of Parliament. The Duke of Dunderweal's progeny had been smitten to the cry which had been chorused from one end of the kingdom to the other : ""WE DON'T WANT NO MORE "WHIGS ON OUR HEADS !" Mr. Paramount, however, had been returned, and so had his rival, Mr. Para- dyse ; and the Premier was known to be in town while the metropolitan elections were being held. All through the day he sat in Downing-street receiving telegrams ; and as tiding"; of one defeat after another reached him, his impassive countenance deadener" Ixito a hue of anxiety. His reign was going to end, for his majority was already gone, and the London elections would naturally diminish his strength stiU further. For the mere loss of office he did not care ; what harassed him in the soul was the prospect of having to face the bitter reproaches of lords, the frowns of ladies ; to hear it universally bewailed that he had failed in perspicacity. Inwardly he knew that he had not failed in perspicacity. He had expected defeat — not quite such a defeat as this though — for he guessed that the first exercise of universal suffrage would be a wayward one ; but he had calculated that at the second general election the Conservative beliefs oi the lower orders would at length manifest them- selves to his vindication. The difficulty before him now was to tide over the period of exclusion from office, to rally the remnants of his disheartened party, and to train them for a future grand onslaught, which he confided would bring him back to power, not for a trumpery year or two, but for the remainder of his days. Mr. Paramount's moral courage exceeded that of any other English politician. His mind was of the elastic kind which rebounds under the shock of adversity ; so after the first hour of anguish he brushed away the moist drops from his brow, and prepared to meet his upbraiding followers with a sympathetic yet cheerful face. The first to arrive were Lords Rosemary and Lobby. The former thought Great Britain had gone mad, and had been much disturbed over his muffin at breakfast from reflecting that he lived in such times ; but he had felt better since, owing to some claret and a biscuit, and was hoping that things would come right in the end. Lord Lobby, though fairly scared too, was ready to make allowances for the general epidemic of lunacy ; but one thing he could neither pardon or under- 241 stand was that his own brother, Mr. Backstayre, had been beaten by one of his farmers. " I couldn't have believed it possible ! " he protested, sinking bewildered into a chair. But soon little Sir Tito Tumb staggered in, limp as an unstarched handker- chief, and his case Avas truly the most pitiable of all : he had lost the seat which he had held for forty years ! " Oh, Paramount ! " he exclaimed, in a tone of reproach at once pathetic, heart-broken, and heart-breaking. " England is going to the dogs ! " " I really feel for you deeply, Tumb," remarked the Premier, kindly. " I shall certainly advise the Queen to grant you a peerage." Sir Tito was soothed, but not comforted. Who could tell how long the House of Peers, or even the Queen herself, would last at this rate ? " I thought you said we were going to reach the Conservative strata with this Bill ? " he moaned, sitting down, and resting his fevered brow upon his hand. " So we shall ; but not at once," said Mr. Paramount, confidently. "The time has come when there is no room for any medium of opinion between Radical- ism of the most rampant type and Conservatism. The people will not long stand being governed on principles which simply mean blasphemy and blunder, and next time we get in it will be for a long time ; for all who have a penny to lose will be on our side." '* Heaven hear you ! " piteously ejaculated Sir Tito, for he thought a good deal of heaven when he was miserable. " Meanwhile Paradyse must come in," observed Lord Lobby, with dismal sarcasm ; "I suppose his earnestness will adapt itself to the new state of things." " Yes," answered Mr. Paramount, with a furtive smile ; " and he will have a pleasant time of it," More telegrams here came in, and among them that announcing the discomfi- ture of the Drones. Mr. Paramount remained quite unruffled, and Lord Rose- mary played abstractedly with his watch-chain ; but the other two statesmen lifted up their hands and exclaimed, as if now verily it were a case of Ichabod, and the glory of England had departed from her. " The poor Duke will have an attacic of gout," observed the Foreign Secre- tary, with the deepest concern. " And Hornette will go mad," chimed in Sir Tito, half consoled by this time for his own mishaps by witnessing those of his friends. " I wish now the Lords had thrown out the Bill — they would have done so if it had not been for Ma)» rose's speeches." ' ' By the way, talking of Mayrose, all this won't improve his relations with the Drones, who are his country neighbours," interrupted Lord Lobby, arching his movable eyebrows. "What are the rights and wrongs of that duel story? I never heard for certain ." " There was a challenge, for I was present," replied little Sir Tito ; " but some days before the end of the session Hornette sent a note withdrawing his insults. I never knew why." " Nor I," said Lord Rosemary, pleasantly. At this juncture a messenger entered with another trayful of telegrams. Mr. Paramount opened them calmly. " More defeats," he said with philosophy. "Sir Ham Pennywoddle has been beaten, and so has Sir Joel Jiddledubbin, who stood in Hiveshire under his patronage." " Mayrose w(m't be sorry for that," cried Lord Lobby, arranging his hair de- jectedly opposite a looking glass, " he and his father-in-law seemed like two cross- sticks." " Aye, but I expect Pennywoddle will soon get a worse beating than this." put in Sir Tito in a mysterious tone. " Do you see how the quotations of his Loan have been falling ?" 16 242 CHAPTER II. QUOTATIONS AT 60, The quotations of the Rio-Brigande Loan had sunk very low. Issued origin- ally at 98, bearing an interest of 12 per cent., the shares had, thanks to the pixifs of venal City editors, and to the eflforts of a ring of which Robgroschen was the centre, gone up as high as 120. Robgroschen, Mr. Scrappe, the stock-broker, Mr. Tarry, the solicitor, had all made large sums by reselling at the fictitious premium shares which they had bought at the rate of issue ; and Lady Canonlaugh had done a similar stroke of business. Her ladyship had been very active in promoting the Loan in Society, and many ladies crippled in fortune but influential had received shares to assist her. For all this, however, the Loan was not a success. As above said, the premium was fictitious — which means that Penny woddle and Jiddledubbin had by Robgro- schen's advice pretended that the entire loan had been applied for by the public, whereas in fact but one million out of the four hadbeen sold to bona fide investors. As explained in a former chapter, Sir Ham had refused to lend himself to the scheme by which the loan would have become an assuredly good affair for himself, but a gigantic swindle for the public. He had, acting under Grace Marvell's di- rections, bound himself to lend four millions on the guarantee of customs receipts and tobacco monopoly, and the consequence was that he was obliged himself to pay the value of the sliares which were not bought by the public. Bills kept pour- ing in from Rio-Brigande, and he honoured them ; but to do this he was obliged to raise money in all directions. He had parted with his interests in the Oyster- Shell Utilization Company, and in his Manufacture of Sausage Meat ; he had sold his share in the 2Je|)or'So had something of the cat's glare in it. Lady Canonlaugh drew a small Russian-leather pocket-book, and fi-om it extracted two letters. There was a light in her eyes too as she did this, for she was one of those women who are hurtful by natm-e, like nettles. " My dear Grace, I did not project sending you into battle unarmed. You can ask Lord Mayrose for what purpose he holds secret meetings with Lady Azalea Carol in a summer-house on the borders of Elmwood Park — not occasional meetings, for he has been seeing her three or four times a week for the past month at least. He will begin by deny- ing, and then you can tell him of these two letters. One of them was wi'itten by Lady Azalea, and the other is Lord Mayrose's answer to it. I obtained them both from Lady Azalea's maid, who is their intermediary, and they cost me ten pounds each." Grace had opened the letters and hurriedly read them ; and all the emotions of gratified hatred were reflected on her face. '•'You see, my dear Grace, they are valuable letters," continued the Countess, with a stinging Uttle laugh. " It was accident that made me first aware of the meetings of the two lovers. I was driving by and saw them ; after that I set a watch, and this is the result. If those letters were submitted to Lord Rosemavy, Lord and Lady Chevychase, and then to Lady Mayrose, I think there would be a scandal which would put our immaculate enemy in a new light before his admirers." "Yes, I will go to Springfield to-morrow morning," muttered Grace in a hard exulting voice as she folded the letters and put them into her pocket. But then Prince Casino spoke, lifting up his hands in strange amazement — 246 " Ah mon dieu ! zese Englishmen zey are all ze same ! Zey walk about with ze Holy Bible under zeir arms, and when you look you find zey have all some female skeleton in zeir cupboards i'> CHAPTEK III. A DISPLAY OP FORCE. Anyone who had seen Grace Marvell dress for her expedition to Springfield would have thought she was going to see somebody whose admiration, and not whose fear and hatred, she wished to excite. She put on a black velvet dress profusely flounced with lace, and a jacket richly trimmed with Siberian sable. Her bonnet was of velvet, with a trimming of grey ostrich feathers ; and as it was small, after the modern fashion, it seemed to he imbedded in the clusters of her splendid chestnut hair crimped up around it. She wore pearl-grey gloves, to match with the feathers in her bonnet ; and by some contrivance known to ladies the velvet dress could be looped up in front for walking, over an underskirt of grey quilted satin ; but it could not be looped up behind, where it flowed majestically for a yard or two, being presumably not meant for walking. Lady Canonlaugh was to accompany Grace to Springfield for propriety's sake, but to remain outside in the landau during the visit. She was a handsome woman, too, despite her sanctimonious virtues, and arrayed herself more sumptu- ously than ever now, out of Grace's money. Lord Canonlaugh had never been rich, and, since his circumstances had become reduced owing to his lavish expendi- ture in secret "good works," as his friends piously put it, his wife had extended her income by the traditional means of patronizing city ladies, presenting them at Court, and so forth. She had concluded a very straightforward bargain with Grace, from whom she was to receive £2,000 for a twelve month's chaperonage, and another £2,000 as bonus on presenting her at the next Birthday Drawing-room. 77 n'y a pas dc sot metier, as our friends over the channel say. The two ladies started for Springfield very soon after nine, and in less than twenty minutes their carriage passed the lodge gates and s^/ept up the avenue, Grace had often crossed Springfield Park in her walks while f .le was teacher at the Penny village schools, but she had never entered the quadra igle of the Hall. It's princely grandeur impressed her. She had sat very erect driving through the Penny grounds and through Hiveborough ; for, encountering at every step persons who had known her in her humbler days, she loved, womanwise, to show them a proud face now, and to ignore them haughtily, or to bow to them with queenly condescension, according as they boorishly stared at her or lifted their hats. But Springfield Hall made her feel humble ; it was so exactly the place over which she would have desired to rule could she have fulfilled her ambition I The spired chapel to the right, and the ancient banqueting-hall to the left rose with stately beauty in the sunlit air, speaking of a nobility which was not of yesterday, and of lordship acquired by other methods than money hunting. As the carriage shot thr<^»ugh the quadrangle gateway, flanked by its two tall towers, a telegraph boy scampered over the grass-plat, bearing one of those 300- word messages which haunt the rural retreats of Cabinet Ministers. Before the landau could reach the flight of steps in front of the main block of buildings, a footman in black silk stockings, epaulettes, and aiglets, issued, and ran down the steps to ascertain the visitor's good pleasure. But Lord Mayrose was not at home. " His Lordship went oat on horseback about ten minutes ago, ma'am, but did not leave word whether he should return before mid-day," said the domestic. ' * His Lordship is going up to London by the one o'clock train to attend a Cabinet Council. Lady Mayrose is indoors, ma'am. " The Countess intimated that it was Lord Mayrose who was in request, but added, unconcernedly, that she should call another day, and ordered that the coach- man should drive home. The landau broke into motion again, and swept round the drive, but once it was clear of the quadrangle Lady Canonlaugh turned to 247 Grace, who was crestfallen, and said hurriedly, " Depend on it, Lord Mayrose has gone to see that minx of a girl. If we go towards Elmwood we shall be almost sure to overtake him or meet him aa he returns. Shall we try ?" "By all means," answered Grace, rallying ; and she pulled the check-string. A front window was let down, and before the footman had time to alight, the coachman was told to drive towards Elmwood at his best speed. The distance from Springfield to the outskirts of Elmwood Park was about fifteen miles ; but the roads were good, and Sir Ham's horses were tall, strong ani- mals, stepping capitally. They were not four minutes clearing the first mile, and here there was a toll-gate, where Lady Canoulaugh enquired whether Lord May- rose had passed that morning. His lordship had ridden by about a quarter of an hour before, said the toll woman ; and a similar answer was received at another gate, seven miles further on, only this time the pursued peer had obtained half an hour's advance. "Never mind," remarked Lady Canonlaugh, "we are sure to fall in with him." It was extraordinary, this pleasure which the Countess took in the prospective discomfiture of a man who had never offended her ; but have we not aill met with persons whose principal happiness is derived from the misfortunes of their neigh- bours ? Lady Canonlaugh had first joined in the outcry against Mayrose because it was the fashionable thing to do among her set, and because when anybody's doings were impugned on moral grounds her ladyship was always foremost in the- clamour, on a well-known principle common to those who cry " Stop thief !" By and bye the marked contempt which Mayrose's wife had evinced towards her on several occasions, and especially the spiteful little epigram which she had one even- ing launched against her, had converted the strife into a woman's animosity, des- perately venomous ; and now Lady Canonlaugh had an extra reason for plotting against Mayrose in her desire to aid Grace. As for Grace herself, it was not sur- prising that she should stand tip for the imperilled Loan with all her might. The loan was her work, and her feminine vanity was interested in its not turning out a disastrous speculation ; besides, now that Sir Ham was evidently tottering towards his grave, Grace's future liusband had diplomatically hinted the desirability of looking with vigilance after the old Knight's money, seeing that every farthing of it would devolve upon her. There was no doubt that she would be Sir Ham's sole heiress ; she wished to be so now. first for Prince Casino's sake, and secondly to frustrate Mayrose of the inheritance ; but there was evidently some secret and deeper motive for her rancour against the peer than could be seen on the surface. So the landau thundered over the roads, and with its speed rose the excitement of this man-chase. Villages were passed, roadside inns with painted sign-boards, bams covered with posters of the recent election, and droves of mooing cattle plod- ding to market. Once or twice groaps of fox-hunters riding to meet in pink were overtaken and passed, and then a batch of sportsmen climbing over a stile with guns on their shoulders to go and make their best of the coverts before the new People's Parliament effected a ruthless sweep of all game laws. The morning was gloriously fine, and the horses were little tired by the sharpness of their pace. In about an hour and a quarter the palisades round Elmwood Park came in view, and beside a lodge gate a young bumpkin was seen walking up and down, leading a horse by the bridle. " That is Lord Mayrose's horse," broke out Lady Canonlaugh. " We are for- tunate ; I know the place where the pair meet, and if we go into the park we may stand behind the trees and hear them say good-bye. You can accost my lord immediately afterwards." The carriage stopped, the ladies descended, and the coachman was told to turn round and wait a couple of hundred yards further down the road. Lady Canon- laugh led the way, and pushed back the lodge gate, which was only closed by a latch, then struck across a track of turf and so into a small wood. Grace followed as fast as her trailing dress would permit. Both ladies cut rather odd figures stepping over the wet ground in their rich attire. The grass was strewn with brown chestnut leaves, and yellow leaves of acacia water-soaked, with prickly husks of horse-chestnuts and beech-nuts, and with 248 rotten twigs which crackled under their feet. From the tree branches above drops of water fell on them as the sun was meltiuf,' the iiif,'ht'H hoar-frost, and a slow per- sisting sound of dripping was heard everywhere around. Lady Canonlaugh's ardour put her in npirits, and made her active. She knew her way and went straight, lifting up her long skirtn, but displaying no care to choose her path. Full five minutes .she walked, then, huddonly putting her finger on her hps, halted, to allow Grace to reach her. " There, to the left !" she whis- pered. Grace looked and saw a piece of ornameutul water, surmounted by some artificial rookwork which formed a cascade. Above the rocks was a belvidere, like a small Grecian temple, which in summer was doubtless used for jiicnics, or as shelter against storms. It was evident that from tlie height a view of the country for miles round could be obtained, and it was consequently a good trysting-place for any lovers who had cause to fear surprises. Thoy would have been able to fly long before the searchers whom they had sighted could reach them. " That is where they are," murmured Latly Canonliiugh. " They may have perceived the cai'riage coming down the road, but they have not seen us approach- ing, for we were masked by the trees, and then they don't suspect thoy have been watched. Let us wait here — wo shall see them come out." Grace instinctively hold her breath, and the next quarter of an hour, during which she was obliged to stand still, seemed a weary while to her impatience. She hugged hor sable muff closer to her, and as the blood had rushed to her face she felt her feet growing cold. Her companion remained impassive, and several times allayed Grace's fears when the latter mistook the rustling of twigs for advancing footsteps. But at last their watching was rewarded. A violet skirt glanced on the summit of the rocks, and Zellie Carol appeared with Mayrose at her side. She had a half veil over her face, and ^layrose preceded her by a few stops, to assist her in descending the steep. Resting one hand confidingly on his arm, she held up the other buried in her seal-skin muff to balance herself, and by quick stages she reached the foot of the ascent. Here, however, there must h.avo been a brook or ditch, for Mayrose took Zellie by the waist and lifted her over the obstacle, then they advanced together into the open, and Lady Canonlaugh, pulling at Grace's sleeves, ejaculated under her breath, " Now see them ! " Never guessing they were being watched, the two lovers had paused to say good-bye. They had joined hands, and at the moment of parting Zellie put up her face and Mayrose kissed her. Lady Canonlaugh broke into a dry and well- pleased laugh ; and, pointing to Zellie, who had walked away rapidly in the direction of a female figure which had emerged from behind some trees. " There, that is her maid, the jade who sold me the letters, and who mounts guard for them. You can join Mayrose now, dear, and I will go back to the carriage and wait for you. Good hope and luck ! ' If the blessings of such women as Lady Canonlaugh inspire trustfulness, Grace must have walked forward confidently enough. Anyho>v she left her shelter with deliberate steps, and went to meet Mayrose as he returned by a by-path leading to the wood. She had about a hundred yards of groimd to cross, and Mayrose did not see her, for he had turned his back to the wind to light a cigar. When he had thrown away his fusee, he came straight along with downcast eyes but quick steps, dressed in a shooting-coat and hat, and switching a riding- whip in his hands. He did not become aware of Grace's presence till he was close to her, and then he stopped. " You here, Miss Mawell V " Yes, my lord ; I have come on purpose to meet you." " You know I was here, then ?" "Yes ; I have been watching you since you took leave of Lady Azalea Carol." He threw an astonished glance at her, but it was one more of enquiry than of alarm. ** Your business must be very pressing ?" he said. "It is very pressing,'' answered Grace, a little disconcerted by his calmness, and for a moment or two she remained silent to collect herself for what she was going to say. Then, looking fixedly at him : " Lord Mayrose, I am going to ask you a 249 Borvico which, I trust, you will grant in the jnterent of your fathor-in-law's fortune, which is menaced." Miiyrose made no rei)ly, and Grace proceeded to prefer her re ' - ., it voted for Barabbas instead of our Saviour. Mayrose advanc«u, and mig,. i, well have delivered Coriolanus's mild speech : — 260 " Wliat would you have, yon curs ? • • • He that trusts you, Where he should find you lions finds you hares ; Where foxes, geese ; you are no surer, no, Thau is the coal of fire upon the ice. Or hailstone in the suu. Your virtue is To make him worthy whose offence subdues him. And curse that justice did it. Who deserves greatness Deserves your hate ; and your affections are A nick man's appetite, who desuea most that Which would increase his evil. He that depends Upon your favours swims with fins of lead, And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye ! Trust ye ? With every minute you do change a mind. And call himjuoble that w..s now your hate. Him vile that was your garland." He did not say that, but cried calmly, ** What do you want ?" *' Down with the Ministry ! " "Hooray for Paradyse !" " Shut np youx' potato trap ! " were the cries that sprang up like fusees as King Mob regathered courage ; and a distant citizen out of reach of reprisals caught \ip a handful of mud and flung it so dexterously that it flattened on Mayrose's black satin scarf. Delightful Sovereign People, whose jokes are blows from the fist, and whose epi- grams lumps of dirt ! May rose wiped off the mud, with a careless smile, then began to speak, and so cooly that most of tho.'ie in the front ranks held their peace. But he had not said many words before Mary dar" ^d through the door and encircled him with her arms, placing herself between her 1 isband and the crowd. She had grown alarmed at not seeing him follow her, and had divined his danger. " Go away, men ! " she cried indignantly at the multitude ; " you ought to be ashamed of yourselves." Possibly they were ashamed of themselves for one minute ; but their dispersal was not effected till Quilpin Leech intervened. Seeing Mary slip through his hands, the secretary perceived that the time for great resolutions had arrived, and scampering up stairs to a room where cotillion properties were kept, he clapped an ass's head in cardboard upon his pate, and descended proudly, four steps at a time. He was the image of Bottom, ever a darling of the people, and his appear- ance on the doorstep excited uproarious merriment. '• Now then, my brothers, he brayed, elbowing Mayrose and Mary unceremon- iously aside; "just come along with me, who am one of you. You have been breaking windows like true working men ; now is the time to claim your wages. We'll go and call on Mr. Paradyse for them. If he can't pay, we'll try the Bank of England." Saying this, Leech dived fearlessly into the unclean surf, and si;rrendered liin" - self to be pawed, hustled, patted on the back, and roared at. When last seen, he was heading the mob down Davies street, and his ass's head bobbed up and down like a float pushed rapidly forward by a foul current. It seems that he managed to escape in Brook-street by throwing his head among the populace, at all events he cleared the square, for none remained but half a dozen worthies, who, having distinguished themselves at the stone throwing, humbly begged that Mayrose wo\ild "remember them," saying that they had done their best to avert damage. Not all the Ministers got off so easily as this, for one or two mansions were en- tirely wrecked. The window-smashing lasted two days, and at the end of this time the Right Hon. Ernest Paradyse, fearing that the Sovereign People might go to ex- tremities, which would intoxicate them into claiming a more go-a-head leader than himself, issued an unctuous address, in which, while deprecating the unconstitution- al action tlmt was keeping him out of office, he besought his followers to evince that moderation which was the happy characteristic of all democratic communities. This, the police, a display of Life Guards, and a snow storm, which providentially supervened, ended by restoring order, and the Ministry resumed their labours with- out dread of being forcibly ejected from Downing Street. Now, one of the Ministerial duties consists in passing an occasional week with 261 the Queen, as adviser in attendance on Her Majesty ; and just as tho glaziers had commenced putting new panes into his windows, Mayrose was summoned to go down to Windsor, a week before his turn, because Sir Tito Tumb had had his nose cut with a flint, and was obliged to wear sticking plaster thereon, which rendered him unfit for the Royal presence. The Queen's commands could not have come in a more unfortunate moment, for Mayrose felt sure that Grace MarvoU would make some new effort to communicate with his wife. Mary's i\-n attitude, too, in face of the mob had greatly increased liis alarm by showing him how determined the little woman could be when she pleased ; and he was in fear that if once her suspicions were aroused, she would have no rest until she had discovered everything. How- ever an order to attend at Windsor cannot be put off like an invitation to dine at Richmond ; so Mayrose prepared to take his departure with Biuo, and commended his domestic peace to Quilpin Leech. "I leave you to keep watch in my absence, Leech," he said, as he was going, " I have a presentiment that the enemy will make a new move in my absence, and possibly one that neither of us suspect." "Trust to me," said Leech. " I am a match for that poodle headed Italian." CHAPTER VI. IN ATTENDANCE AT WINDSOR, Tojwalk about the grounds of a Royal Castle in a bin e swallow-tail coat with red collar and cuffa, to spend one's days in the observance of etiquette and one's evenings either in solitude or in respectful conversation with one's Sovereign about Switzerland and water colour painting — to do all this when one's soul is wrung with presentiments of ruin and sorrow, is a species of martyrdom not unlike that which the blessed St. Lawrence endured on his gridiron. Majrrose had apartments in the Round Tower, and a notice, hung on the walls, commanded him in the Queen's name not to smoke. He breakfasted and lunched by himself at the hours he pleased, and ordered what he preferred out of a menu sent up to him in the morning by the Royal rhaf. His day costume was, as above said, that tasteful livery the Windsor uniform, with grey pantaloons, cravat, and gloves ad libitum ; and in the evening he put on a dress coat, with breeches and black-silk stockings. A horse for i-iding and a brougham were placed at his dis- posal, but these commodities were not easy to use owing to theetitjuette which for- bids the Minister in attendance to absent himself for long from the castle. The functions of the Minister consist in the being always at hand to give constitutional advice when wanted. There was the greater reason, too, why Mayrose should not absent himself much, as he found the Court in considerable commotion. Accustomed to see Min- istries succeed each other in peaceful rotation without the stability of the throne being ever impaired, the Royal Family had come to look upon changes of adminis- tration as mere chassez-croisez in a quadrille ; and they in fact preferred Liberal Cabinets to Conservative, for with a Tory Opposition they were secure from rowdy agitations. But this time ugly words had been uttered during the elections, and a number of uncompromising Republicans had been returned. The Grand Duke of Saxe-Kleinburg, who had been on a visit to Her Majesty, his relative, had declared that he was not without gloomy forebodings, and it had been remarked with con- sternation that even his favorite dish of sausages and mashed potatoes had lost all attractions for him — a significant symptom in so serene a Highness. Lady Chafl'- hara, the lady-in-waiting, who was a cousin of Lady Beaujolais and a gushing per- son as ^ull of song as a kettle, invited Mayrose to five o'clock tea in her rooms on the afternoon of his arrival, and at once gave him a general inkling of the situation. "You see, the Queen has too much dignity to show uneasiness, but she has received letters of alarm and sympathy from Berlin and Coburg. Yesterday she sent me to the Librarian for the History of France. I offered to read it to her, but she thanked me and read by herself ; and when she put down the book I saw that 262 the marker was at * 1793.' All that is very dreadful. Do you really think we are going to have a Republic?" "Anything but that," said Mayroao, calmly. " With their amazing conceit Englishmen have supposed for years that tliey could dabble with impunity in the democratic ditch, which has defiled other nations, and always caught fire in their hands. They are already learning that they are mistaken, and in a few years we shall have a Government closely resembling despotism. That is all." " I am sure I hope so, and I wish you were Prime Minister, with a strong House of Lords at your back. But talking of Lords, we hear that everybody wants to become a Peer, and I expect the Queen will object. You know the one point of Government on which she has always Imd hor way is the creation of peers ; she will not hear of ennobling a poor man unless he be a bachelor." " I doubt whether any poor names will bo submitted to Her Majesty. I believe there will be no more than twelve new peers in all." " Twelve ? We had heard a hundred. By the by, is it truo you have yourself refused an Earldom and the Garter?" " The Garter was never offered me. I refused an Earldom." " How could your wife have been so silly as to let yoia I" exclaimed her Lady- ship, astonished. " Lady Beaujolais knows miich better how to act for her husband. She will get him a Marquisate before the Ministry go out, and she actually coaxed an old Judge into resigning, so that one of her relations might have the place. , There's a sensible woman for you ! I ought to tell you, though, that your delicacy is fully appreciated. The Queen heard with much concern of Sir Ham Pennywod- dle's ruin." Mayrose gave a start. " How can the Queen possibly have heard of a thing which I hardly yet know myself f6r certain. Lady Chaffham ?" " Oh, everything is known at Court, Lord Mayrose," replied the lady-in-wait- jng, with a laugh. " The Queen is naturally interested in hearing about the fami- lies of her Ministers, and she finds plenty of people to inform her." " Youi'self among the number ?" " Yes, I am especially active, and I can tell you I do my humble best to injure my enemies — who doesn't?" laughed her ladyship. "You, though, have no ene- mies at Court now. It was different before the split in the Cabinet, when there were numbers of Drones and Midges at Court. Then atrocious things used to be Baid about you ; but luckily the Queen only believes half she hears." " Half may be too nauch when the whole is untrue. Lady Chaffham." " So it may," agi-eed the lady-in-waiting, cheei'fuUy, as she set down her tea- cup. " I assure you, however, that Her Majesty has the best opinion of you. You will dine at the Royal table, of course, to-night, and you will find the Queen thor- oughly gracious." Mayrose dined at the Royal table, and did find his Sovereign as gracious as ever. No politics were talked, but the Grand Duke of Saxe-Kleinburg, who was still present, grimaced at the Minister with that peculiar mixtiire of aversion, haughtiness, and humility which is sported by all German princes in their relations with constitutional advisers. The next day a Council was held, and Mr. Para- momit arrived at Windsor with hi"^ list of new peers, all of whom were on scrutiny approved, being patriotic men witJi from £30,000 to £100,000 a year apiece. After the Council Lady Beaujolais' relation, the new Judge, a learned man with a touch of lumbago, knelt on the carpet and was patted on the shoulder with a sword ; and then ensued a little mild conversation about a new bishop and a new dean ; Her Majesty ending by putting the intended dean into the bishopric, and the intended bishop nowhere, rather to Mr. Paramount's confusion. The day succeeding that was absorbed in signing patents for twenty new baronets, mostly from Manchester ; but then came a lull, and time passed uneventfully till Sunday. In the course of the week Mayrose was commanded to dinner once more at the Royal table ; but on the off days he dined alone, though had he chosen he might have joined the table — and a capital one it is — kept for the Lord-in-Waiting, the Groom-in-Waiting and the Equerry. These important officials, who have been known to assume a very 263 nk \7e are ng conceit nity iu the re in their V years we 1 a strong )otly wants ne point of ■8 ; she will lajesty. I ve yourself her Lady- r husband, illy coaxed the place. ir dehcacy L^ennywod- 7 yet know [ly-in-wait- the fami- )t to injure ve no ene- hen there ised to be n her tea- you. You teen thor- racious as who was aversion, p relations Mr. Para- a scrutiny ce. After ;h a touch ord ; and ean ; Her intended ding that nchester ; course of ; but on the table iting and iie a very high and dry tene towards Ministerg who were base commoners right honourablized by the will of the people, are always very friendly with proper poors ; and bo it said that they are gentlemen whose minds are valuable storehouses of information. If a man would require to know whether a knight's aunt takes precedence of an archdeacon's mother-in-law, he could not do better than appeal to their lights ; and it was perhaps unfortunate for Mayrose that he happened not to be troubled by cares on these subjects. Sunday an-ived then, and in the morning the postman brought Mayroso his usual parcel of letters from town, among them being two which gave him gi-eat relief, the second much more than relief. The first was from Leech ; — "Dear MayroHO, — Everytliing has proceeded well so far. I send you all the letters that are left here, even those addressed to Lady Mayrose ; and my lady has concurred very cheerfully iu the arrangement, being perHuaded that your ol)ject is to guard her against the importunate solicitations levelled at Ministers' wives. Lady Mayrose remains not at home to everybody, but yesterday she made an exception in favour of Lady Beau- jolais and the new Lady Droncborough, whoso magpie tongue I much feared ; but the gods were good, and tli"ro were no mishaps. I continue as awake as n man with a thorn in his leg, and have not stirred out of doors since your departure. " Your alTectionate cousin, Q. L." The second letter was from IVfary : — " My Darling, — I have scarcely seen a soul since you left, and am glad of the precau- tions you took against my being worried, for the door-knocker has been rapping all the days and part of the evenings, and I do not know how I could have borne up against so many visits from people having favours to ask. Lady Beaujolais and Lady Droncborough called yesterday and chatted for an hour about the riots, and aliout my facing the mob, which, as you have no doubt seen, was put into the papers. They were both very good- natured lU their excitement, but I found their conversation rather tiring, my darling, for I want to be alone with my happiness. Yes, happiness ; can you guess what I mean ? I wished to keep the secret to surprise you when you came homo, but I liave not the heart to rob you of an instant of the unutterable gladness. I feel myself in the hope of a child being born to us to make our union still closer. Can you understand now, darling, how I long for your return that you may join your prayers to mine, asking God that nothing may come to mar the promise of our happiness? My heart is very full, and I cannot see through the tears in my eyes as I sign myself "Y'our devoted wife, " Mary." The tears were in Mayrose's eyes, too, as he raised this letter thankfully to his Ups. Since he had begun to wean himself of his passion for Zellie, all the atfec- tions of his heart were being carried back to his wife — not yet, indeed, in the form of ardent love, but of increasing trustfulness and respect — and now that there was a hope of Mary's becoming a mother he must have been worthless, indeed, if all his impulses of tenderness and devotion had not llown towards her. His wife's note gave him fortitude to bear without wincing the four next letters which he unclosed, and which were of a very different sort. The first three were repetitions of the first denunciation that had been sent to Mary, and were directed in divers hands, one being wrapped up in a tradesman's circular. The fourth was a long and violent epistle of abuse from Sir Ham. The Knight hysterically reviled his son-in-law as being the cause of his ruin, and wound up by declaring that as Mayrose's immoral relations with Lady Azalea were known to him, he should ad- vise his injured daughter to sue for a divorce. Mayrose was aware that Sir Ham in his pi'esent state could not have written this letter himself, and that it must have been dictated to him by Grace ; so he resolved to leave it unnoticed. He felt almost light-hearted, however, now for the first time since many days. In the morning he attended service in the private chapel, and in the afternoon, know- ing that official advice would not be wanted of him on a Sunday, he walked through Windsor to Eton for the evening service in the chapel of his old school. It was a beautiful, mellow winter afternoon, and the sunlight glowed with something of autumn warmth on the crowds of comely boys trooping into service. This Sunday chanced to be the last one of the half year, and the joy of the boys at their coming holidays was visible on their young faces beaming in countless rows under the bril- 264 liant lights of tho tall brazou chandoliors. Mayroso waited in the ante-chapel till his old tutor pasHed in liis surplicr- iimon^' tliecolK-po fi'llows, and then with thoughts of those former days which come back with such wondrous freshness to men jaded by tho strife of tho world, ho went and took his neat in the stall beside his old mas- ter's. It was with more than common humility that tho Minister then knelt again under tho sacred vault, which had so often echoed with his voice in bygone yf ^rs ; and soon some verses of the evening Psalms sung by the choir nnd by the eight hundred young worshippers, fell with singular appropriateness on his ear. " Hear my prayer, O God ; and hide not thyself from my petition." •'The enemy ci'ieth so, and the ungodly comotli on so fast : for they are mind- ed to do mo some mischief; so maliciously are tiuy sot against me." "My heart is disquieted within me ; and an horrible dread hath overwhelmed me. The College Fellow noticed how reverently hi- old pupil bowed his head, and joined in tho responses. Tho verses were taken up alternately by one side of the chapel to tho other, amid tho pealing notes of tho organ; and the music wus plaintivo, xintil cani" the final verses of the Psalm summoning the fearful and wi'iuy to the Eti rnal Somxe of Comfort : " O cast thy l)urden upon tho Lord and ho sljall sustain thee ; and shall not suffer the righteous to fall for ever." " And as for my enemies : O God, thou shalt liring them into tho pit of destruc- tion." Mayroso walked back to Windsor through the clean Eton High-street solaced and roinvigoratod. Ho had prayed that if it pleased Heaven to give him a son he might pass over to his child the hr)'itage of a spotless name, and he clung to the faith that however dark might be tho clouds around him now, the storm would pass over, leaving his reputation, if not his fortune, unscathed. He was much tempted for a moment to go and confess all his troubles to his wife, knowing, as ho did, that she would implicitly believe every word he uttered ; but he was withheld by remem- bering that tho secret which he feared to see disclosed was Zellie's as much as his. It is a ma::im, not of honour alone, but of common honesty and charity, that a man shordd never give up a woman's secret to another woman — not even to his wife. Mayroso could answer for himself; ho could not answer that in some feminine quarrel between Mary and Zollie, or in some jealous hour when Mary might wish to guai'd tho happiness which she might think tlireatened Zellie's secret would not be made hasty nso of, to the poor girl's lasting shame. Ho had no business to run the risk. If tho secret came into Mary's possession through other hands Mayroso might then give his tnxe version of the story in self-exculpation ; imtil then it was his business to remain silent, even though his silence would certainly be construed against him if his wife learned the secret from any lips ])Ut his own. It was quite night when Mayroso reached the castle, so grey and grand in the gloom, and yet so living with its hundreds of lights. He was still composed and trustful, but it is to be noticed that when in the midst of troiibles a sudden calm supervenes which makes one think that dangers may bo averted — then is tlie mo- ment when the storm breaks. Mayrose had no sooner crossed the threshold of the private entrance opposite the Norman Gateway than one of the scarlet footmen m attendance handed him a letter. " One of your lordship's servants came up from London with this, my lord. He said it was very pressing, and knowing your loi-dship was gone to Eton, we told him he had better walk there. But he left the letter in case your lordship should be back before him." "Mayrose turned away to break the seal, and he read this : — " Dear Mayrose, — I am afraid misfortune has come. Lady Mayrose went out yester- day afternoon after giving her letter to yoii to bo posted. She said she was going out shopping ; but when she returned it was evident that something had happened. She was pale as death, and trembling. All this morning she has remained in her room, with the exception of half-an-hour, when she came down to your study. I met her as she was com- ing out, and saw that she had been crying. When I asked, however, whether she was 265 unwoU, slie naid ' No,' very Hailly, and in a manner which quite belied her words. maid liaH juHt told mc that my lady ban been crying all day and haH refused to oat. " Your affectionate and Her "Sympathizing cousin, y. L. It needed but a request to the Queen thronj,'h the Lord-in-Wiiitinp;, and May- rose obtained leave to absent himself on the ground of his wife's sudden illness. A couple of hours later he wum in town. CHAPTER VII. "all thv waves and floods have gone over me." Mary was seated on a low chair in her dressing-room, and 'she crouched over the 'fire. Her chin rested on her right hand, and with the left she plucked feverishly at her black silk dress. There was no light in the room but that of the fire, which threw flickering shadows on the ceiling, and Mary was so absorbed in her thoughts that when her husband entered she did not hear him. Wiien, how- ever, she saw him at her side she rose with an abrupt start, placing her hand on her heart as if a spasm had shot through it. " I did not expect you back h*om Windsor to-day," slio .said, in a voice that trembled. •' I returned on hearing that you were ill. What has happened, Mary?" Ho advanced to kiss her, but she receded. " You have had me watched, then," she said coldly. " Watched is not the word, dear. I loft instructions with Leocli to let mo know if anything occured to yoii." •' Letters, for instance — is it Mr. Leech who confiscates the letters addressed to me or is it your valet !" Mayrose said nothing. The flicker of the fire had momentarily ceased, and loft the room almost in darkness. He took a spill from the mantlepiece, and lit two wax candles that stood on the table, then glanced at his wife, who remained standing. She was wearing round her neck one of those small ruffs then in fashion and this gave her face an air like that of a woman in the sombre pictures of Spanish painters. Her hair was disordered, her eyes had red rims round them, and her fea- tures seemed doubly pale l)y the contrast. But her lips were sot, and her express- ion was the same as he had observed on one or two former occasions — when she had rebuffed him with her coldness before marriage, and latterly when she had thi'own her arms round him and defied the mob. Seeing that he did not answer her question, she repeated it imperiously. " I have received some anonymous letters, dear," replied Mayrose, with a cough, " but they were full of untruths ; that is why I kept kept them from you." '* Untruths ! If they were so untrue as that, why need you have been afraid to show them to me ?" " Because there was some truth mixed up with the lies, and I could not have disproved what was false without revealing to you a secret which was not mine to part with. Tell me, however, what has happened, Mary, and I give you my word that you shall know all I felt bound to conceal." " I know it already, for the secret you felt bound to keep from ycur wife has been disclosed to me by others," replied Marj% in a hard tone. " Y'eRtorday I went out, and my carriage crossed my father's. He perceived me, and beckoned to the coachman to stop. I had not seen him for some time, and when he got into the brougham beside me and began to pour out a wretched story of complaints and ac- cusations againc* •^ a I thought his mind was wandering. But some of his accusa- tions were too j: did not become cc ascertain the truth had returned to K^ laugh." to be unheeded, and as I knew they would torture me if I ced of their utter falseness, I went to Kensington resolved to Trace MarveUhad been in the carriage with my father, and she ' ton in advance of us. I saw her there with Lady Canon- f 266 " Both your enemies, dear, and mine," interrupted Mayrose, nervously. '* Yes, and there was no pretence of friendship between us, believe me," con- tinued Mary. " I asked Grace categorically what was the meaning of my father's words, and she ans^ftered me without reticence. Lady Canonlaugh corroborated all she said. And so it seems that 1 was the only woman in London who did not know that Lady Azalea Carol was your mistress !" " Mary, I swear to you on my sacred honour that these two women have maligned me," exclaimed Mayrose, with intense earnestness. " Oh don't, Frederick ! leave me some illusions as to vo"'' honour," cried Mary, putting up her hand ind waiving it to check him. " 1 oil have not heard the whole of my story ; if you wished to avoid tlie possibility of detection, why did you keep Lady Azalea's letters, and why did you let your secretary wear a key of your desk on his watch-chain ?" " A key of my desk !" ejaculated Mayrose, and he suddenly remembered the gold key which he had given to Leech some months before, in view of his duel with Lord Hornette, and which Leech had kept ever since. Ho made the gesture of a man who knows he shall be judged on false appearances. " Yes, the key of your desk," repeated Mary, fixing her eyes on him implacably. " When I returned from Kensington my brain was all on fire. To save appearances T of course told Gri.oe that I did not believe a word she said, for it is the con- 'jequence of a husband's deception that his wife must steep herself in falsehood too it she i^to guard him and herself from disgrace. But the while a host of circum- stances occurred to me ; Grace luade no secret of her having sent anonymous letters to warn me, and you have concealed these ! T remember your frequent absences tallying with all that was said about your meetings with Lady Azalea. Your secretary's attitude was mysterious, too ; he spirited away all the letters that arrived ; he looked ashamed when he spoke to me, and I recollect that about two months ago entering your study one day I had seen him hastily lock your desk as if he had stolon something there. What did all this mean ? What right had Mi. Leech to share a confidence from which your wife was excluded ? This morning I went and asked him whetlier he had a key of your desk, and he answered ' no,' though he wa.:S wearing on his chain as he spoke the gold key, which he knew be- longed to you. It was not worth while exposing his duplicity, but I brought your desk up here and broke it open." " You did an unwise thing, Mary," said Mayrose, sadly. " I did what I could to ascertain the truth, which you would have hidden from me to your life's end had J. appealed to you for it," rejoined Mary, whose voice rose and quickened. "And how could I have lived at peace with you, knowing there was a mystery between us ? But you see now that I have discovered every- thing. I found twenty of Lady Azalea's letters in your desk, and a sealed packet which you seem to have addressed to her in prevision of your death, and in which you say that your last thoughts would be for her ! What have I done to you, Frederick, to deserve this cruel outiage .?" Mayrose rested an elbow on the mantel-shelf and bowed his head on his hand. His demeanour was that of a man overwhelmed by the exposure of his crime. Mary watched him, frantically ch'sping her hands, and after a moment she spoke again, but this time her voice was full of agony, of entreaty, and of despair : — " I ask you again, Frederick, what have I done to fleserve this from you ? Do you not think it :s worse than dcatli to me to see you covver before me — you whom 1 worshipped ? Till yesterday the solitary grief of my married life was that before I became your wife I had for a period suspected you of the mercenariness itnputed to you by others. This was a remorse which touched me whenever I looked into your ev'is, V hich seemed to me so tender and true, or heard your voice, which sounded frank as the breath of heaven ; and now I must learn that your conduct Avas all dissimulation ! Had you no pity for what I should feel if I came to discover this? Did you tiiink that my love for you was made up of the same pretence as yours for me ? You must be a poor judge of woman's character if you did think so, but, if not, what heart could you have to risk making the whole of my life desolate ? Was it for my money you married me / I doubt whether thai money can have made 267 Jiave no. you happy. You were surely not happy when you lived every day in fear of de- tection and were obliged to connive with servants to deceive me ; and are you happy now in hearing me say that our married life must end, and that if God gives us a child the first thing he will ask me when he comes to reason will be why his father and mother live apart !" Mary's voice broke, and she sank down on a chair, wiping tears from her eyes. Mayrose felt relieved by her emotion. He greatly preferred this to the firm, cold tone she had adopted at first, and he took a seat by her side, but without endeavor- ing to touch her hand or give her any caress. " Will you hear my justification, Mary ?" he said, in a pleading voice. " Yes ; but let it be a true one," she sobbed. " Say anything that can make me forgive you. If you could only show me, Frederick, that your conduct was cauped by any defects of mine — a misunderstanding between us ; my ignorance or stupidity — God knows I should accept this explanation with humility and grati- tude, and try to make amends for the future. But I shall not even pretend to be- lieve your excuses if my own conscience does not ratify them. I toll you this at once ; for it would be no use to begin a life which would end in a new calamity. One such sorrow as 1 have just sufiered is enough." What could he say to this appeal, which was so generous and yet so solemn / The e:vplanation which would have been both safe and easy, and which would have 'nade him seem so noble in her eyes had he come to her but a few days before and made it of his own accord, now appeared unreal to him even as he uttered it. He spoke, nevertheless, and spoke long, with all the beseeching force he could com- mand ; and she listened ; but he saw that she aid not believe him. The more con- vincing he sought to be, tht more hollow did his utterances sound even to himseh ; and at the end of an hour Mary rose. She had dried her tears, and her voice had resumed its cold tone, with which, however, an inllection of weary grief and some contempt were mingled. " That is enough, Frederick,'" she sighed. '• I will not put your ingenuity to a longer test. I know that it is a proof of what men call honour to shield the women who are tlieir mistresses, even though by so doing they break the hearts of their wives, whom they have sworn to cherish. I do not myself understand such subtle- ties. When I married a nobleman I really believed that your order cultivated sentiments above those of the class to which I belonged. I did not expect ever to hear my husband rack his mind for plausible inventions to cloak the shame of a girl of the nobility who had abandoned herself." " What you are saying is cruelly tinjust, Mary, and yet I cannot defend my- i5elf," exclainaed Mayrose, with despondency. " I must trust to time and Provi- dence to justify every word of what I have said. Z Uie Carol is as pure as yourself, my poor child, but I feel it would need a miracle I: prove it.'' " Nothing short of a miracle, certainly," replied Mary, bitterly ; " but I do not want to seem unjust in my jealousy, so I ask you what would you say if our posi- tions were reversed ? What if I had married you for money and been detected bj' you paying clandestine visits to ii former lover for the purpose of slowly curing him of his passion? The explanation would appear to you pretty iireposterous, I tl. .ik." Mayrose made a gesture of assent. " Well, so it does to me, I"rederick, and the only difference between my judg- ment and what yours would be if you were judging mo is (hat I think that impu- dent, immoral girl is more to bhime than you. And nlinters, and the breast-plate initarnished — there that the auiuiur mast bear sto\it heart and eye unquailing I But when the true knight has fought the good fight, and, putting on him " the whole armour of God," been victorioiis, then it is tliat he stands forth as a prince of the people, the guardian of an honour higher than that which the vulgar know. Then it is that his ermine is without spot — then it is that he is a representative of a chosen tribe like that of old which, from father to son, kept the Holy of Holies I From New Square Mayrose went to the Africa Office, and transacted his busi- ness as usual. When his work was over he wrote to Zellie, giving her an account of Avhat had passed between Mary and himself, but saying no word to wound her or to reproach her with having been the cause of his calamity. There was only one passage in the letter which could cause Zellie pang, and that was where ho spoke of his hopes of an heir, and dwelt on the eternal claims which his wife would now have on his afiection. He re-read this passage, for in the midst of his own heavy woes he was not careless as to what might happen to the poor child whom he had so patiently sought to cure. In this work he was resolved to persevere, befall what might ; for its success would be liis oiily reward for the suffering it had cost him. So he re-read the passage relating to Mary, doubting whether even this guarded confession of his love for his wife wf)uld not arouse Zellie's morbid jeah)usv ; but, after refi:cction, he sealed the letter as it was, trusting to Heaven that i*^ might operate the miracle he prayed ft)r— that of opening Zellie's eyes to his true position and hers. The searing of a hot iron is not always harmful. Quilpin Leech knocked at the dour as Mayrose was sealing his letter. As his services were no longer of use in Berkeley St^uare, the new I'ermanent Secretary had that morning installed liiniself into his office and passed several liours in receiving instructions, very sourly imparted by his predecessor, Mr. Keane R'ident. Mayrose had not seen him the whole day, and held out his hand to him. "You have come at the right moment. Leech — do me the last service of taking this letter to Lady Azalea. I will make new arrangements fi,>r the future." "Has Lady Mayrose found out— everything /" asked the Secretary, puttmg the letter into his pocket with an air of sincere conimisseration. " Everything my enemies wished her to find out ; and if you see Miss Miirvell you can tell her she lias repaid me with interest. She will understand what that means/ 270 " 1 was afraid of trouble," answered Leech, with a sceptical wag of the head at the last observation. "When I came away this morning Lady Mayrose was packing to return to Si)ringfield.''' Mayrose ought to have been prepared for this announcement of Mary's depart- ure ; but on returning home and finding the liouse deserted, this visible proof of h.'s separation from his wife brought him more sorrow than all he had borne before. Mary had left three bare lines, stating that she should remain at Springtield till the final plans rhe would make had obtained his approval. With this note in his liand, Mayi'ose walked into his wife's boudoir, disordered by the activity of a hasty start. A dozen scattered things reminded him of the companion whose love and sweet worship had never failed him in former trials ; and on a work-table he saw a baby's cap just begun and discontinued probably sinco the day when Mary had learned that the father of her coming child had never loved her. This little waif was not without its lesson and consolation to Mayrose, for it brought liome to him how different the situation might have been had his relations with Zellie been as Mary suspected. Sallur as he might now, his disgrace came from without, not within, and he could IkjM his head high. The door of the boudoir was open, and the long drawing-room beyond was lighted up as if visitors were expected. Mayrose glanced in from the threshold, and his eyes fell on the portraits of his ancestors. They were standing motionless in their frames — so motionless that they seemed to be like an army saluting him. CHAPTER Yin. ' THE LITTLE LANTERN. • When a man surrenders a large fortune to pay some one else's debts so rare au act generally gets known and talked about. It leaked out that Mayrose was going to ruin himself for Sir Ham Pennywoddle's creditors, and people who wished liiin well thought kim a fool for his pains. Among his enemies the statement was not believed. Ladies and gentlemen who had contracted the habit of abusing him found it simpler and sweeter to decide that some comedy was being played than to admit that they had been mistaken in their estimate of this peer. Hatred is a very luxuriant sentiment, yielding almost as much toothsome fruit as love. If it be cruelty to prove to a person that his or her affections have been bestowed on an unworthy object, how mucli uukiuder it is to demonstrate that hatred has been lavished amiss ! Happily the demonstration mostly fails. We knew of a lady who, having long cherished antipathy towards a man, was constrained to avow that her sole reason for disliking him was that he had two wives. " Why, he has never been married at all !" was our demurrer. " Ah, you may depend on it, then, it was not for want of the wishing," replied the lady, with refreshing vehemence ; " it was only because he feared the consequences !" Grace Marvell was informed of what Mayrose was about to do, but she believed it at once by instinct. Mr. Deedes, pursuant to his instructions, had begun by writing to her to obtain an exact Ust of Sir Ham's debts ; and she had answered that the matter did not concern lier. Mr. Deedes then wrote that he should wait on her to make a communication, and Grace, apprehending that this communica- tion would consist in a request to give up the knight's estates to his creditors, retired to Penny with some thoughts of going abroad with Sir Ham till the latter's bankruptcy had been consummated, and all the unpleasantness of it had blown over. Mr. Deedes followed her, and in a short, cold interview, explained that lie had not come for money, but to announce that Lord Mayrose would pay his father- in-law's debts to the last farthing. He added incidentally that Mayrose and his wife had separated, thoitgh wherefore ho knew not. Prince Casino arrived soon after this, and found Grace with a hectic flush ou both cheeks, and sunk in a chair in a prostrate attitude of Vt^flectiou. .■V ver\^ deep and disturbed reflection it must have been, tor when the Italian advanced, h:3 betrothed did not seem to recognize him, but stared at him with an ajsent light in her eyes, and recoiled timidly from his touch. He himself was full of rumours w 271 which he had picked up in the City, and too much engrossed by his own plans to attach any significance to Grace's demeanour. " Carina, let us not put off our marriage any longer," he began, taking her hand in spite of her, and raising it to his lips ; •' Sir Ham is ruined and crazy : where is the reason why we should derange oui'selves on his account ?" "It's you? IJave you heard what Lord Mayrose intends to do?" asked Grace abruptly, as if waking up, and withdrawing her hand. " Yes ; Robgroschen has tuld me he will pay Sir Ham s debts ; and taut mieux! Do you not see' carina, how good a turn this lord does us by his Quixotry ? If Sir Ham had been made bankrupt, people might hiiv i said that 3'ou and I, who had his estates, had plundered him ; but since Milord pays, the world will think that he made profits out of the Loan, and is only generous because ho can afford it ? " " They will be unable to say that, for Lord Mayrose sells his private estates, and will be left without a shilling," rejoined Grace, coldly ; but what a disenchant- ed disdain there was in that coldness ! " He sells Springfield ! Ah ? " exclaimed the Prince, with amazement ; then suddenly laughing, added in a cajoling way, "Why, my pretty Grace, do you remember telling me often how you admired Springfield Hall ? Supposing we bought it ? What if we spent our honeymoon under the roof of that Puritan poseur, who has treated us like the dust of his boots ! "" Prince Casino plumed himself on being an honest man, as honesty gees in these times ; but in speaking as above, he looked like a thimblerigger. Grace fas- tened her eyes on him as though they would pierce him through, and there was Uttle admu-ation in that gaze, as she asked slowly : " Eubino, do you love me ? " " Love you ! how can you speak so, my Grace ? You are not love but life to me." " Then, being rich now yourself, j^ou would marry me if I had no fortune to bring you ? " "Why, of course, who would say the contrary? " rejoined the Prince, a little uneasily, like a man nearing unpleasant ground. "Then what should you say if I had declined to be outdone in generosity by Lord Mayrose, our common enemy? '" continued Grace. " What would you say if I had thrown my title-deeds into the fire ? " The Prince's face grimaced as though the jaws had got unhinged ; and at a glance Grace divined that he would try to back out of the marriage if she really had burned her title deeds. She saw also that it was fear that formed the basis nf his pretended affection for her, for he remained with his mouth open as if he hardly dared trust himself to answer. " Why, why, carina, I should uatursully marry you if you had nothing," he stammered at last. " Thank you ; but I shall not pat you to the test," answered Grace with con- tempt. " I have not burned my title deeds, and do not niean to. Best hold to all the money we have, for money is everything', is it not, Prince ? "" The Italian heaved a little sigh, half confusion, lialf relief ; but seeing he had been drawn into a trap, he liad wit enough to be anxinu.- not to play a humiliated part in the eyes of his future wife. So, with an irresistible smile, and a show of exuberant gaiety, he answered : — "Money is njt everything, caiina ; but it is a great deal, and we need not talk of it like a melodrama. Why do I want to bo rich ? — because nches are tie necessary surroundings to one of your divine beauty. Your amall whae hands were made to play with jewels, your rich hair will be the f-""- • tr .ulesM of diamonds. What ! when we see millions oi men grubbing ^- md «i that they may stulf dry bread into their uglj- mouths, shall I l)e asiianted of covet- ing wealth that f may gratify every whim of my adored bride t Dio mio, 1 am not ashamed ! Myself, I ccuild live on maccaroni ; but now I am rich and you axe rich, why give up our money to an old man with one leg in his oottin, oi to another who has tried to d(j us injury ? Let Milord Mayrose throw away his m«:)ney if ]» likes, nobody forces him and nobody will thank him. As for me, par Bacco. wf 272 ancestors fought battles, but did they stop to cry over the blood they had spilled ? Chacun pour soi, ct Dieu pour tous. You will not see me weeping, my Grace, be- cause you and I have won a battle in whicli gold has flowed from the veins of these fat English. But T will tell you what, carina, when heaven wished to create an animal uniting in nis ridiculous person all the vices of other people without any of their graces, lie moulded the Englishman, and flung him into the City of London, and into your foggy West-end. Your countrymen are Jhypocrites like Basilio and TartuflFe, my pet. I have done no worse than they do or try to do every day, but they will atone for their own failures ynd consciousness of roguery by proscribing mo who am a foreigner ! I have already seen that some of them view me as if I had two hoofs and a barbed tail ; and that little Leech, whom I wisli I had opposite my foil on Calais sands, per Dio ! —he has talked of caning me ; huiJadetto, let him attempt it ! But why remain in England ? Instead of buying Milord's heavy castle, let us sell all you have here, and live in Paris and P^lorence — tAvo cities which mock themselves of hypocrisy, my Grace, and would treat you as a queen." Print can not do justice to this valiant little outburst, which was delivered with gestures as good as a punchinello's. The rogue talked in French, but speak- ing that language like all Italians, with a conversion of u's into ou's and j's into-^'s, his accent was like the flutey warble of the magpie. Then his silky black moustaches were waxed out at either end like gimlets, his rosy cheeks and blue chin shone ; he was wearing a short, tight-fitting overcoat of utter skin, which would have looked ridiculous on an Englishman, but wnich suited him to a nicety, as did hi.s patent- leather boots, grey gloves, and silk huidkerchief with a light blue hem perfumed with ijlang-ylawj . It was impossible for a girl rot to be captivated by the air of seduction he diffused ; a cold look chill jd him, out he would come fawning back like a lapdog, and whine, caress, and frisk till he was restored to favcnir again. Grace was fain to set him down as an overgrown baby, whugh his hair, he laid his hat and stick on -■'.ir .and went by the most loir.ulabout way to the door in search of the Knight. He discovered him in the rich study, full of costly books never read, of reviews never cut, and works (tf art any one of which would have been a treasure to a poor man with brains. He was poring over the Times City Article, and covering a sheet of foolscap with sprawling figures. There was no difhculty in making him abandon 273 as if I a poor a sheet .bandon his occupation with the intimation that Grace wanted to see him, and the Prince led him into the drawing-room by the arm, obediently as a calf. The old knight's lower jaw drooped, his mouth was distorted, and his left shoulder slanted lower than the other — an invariable symptom of the beginning of general paralysis. "Miss Grace and I want to tell you something which I hope will make us all very happy," suiirked the Prince, installing the old man very comfortably in a low arm-chair opposite the hre. "Good'll come of it," answered Sir Ham, stolidly. "Dear me, Sir Ham, what have you been doing with your fingers ?" ejaculated Grace, stooping to wipe the old man's hands with her handkerchief as if he were a child. "I've been going into figures," stuttered the knight, abandoning his hands unconsciously. "Twenty-five millions is what I ought to have at the Bank of England, and I'll get elected Governor of it ; but they oiight'nt to have raised the rate of discount ; ill'll come of it." '• Twenty-five millions — Ecco mi ! Yes, Sir Ham, but you were very near bankruptcy," giggled the Prince evidently relishing his task less and less. " If Miss Marvell had not so nobly paid your debts, where should we have been in our fine fix ?" " Hush ! don't speak to him about that," interrupted Grace, quickly. But the words were out, and perhaps the mention of bankruptcy — that knell to the ears of all traders — was the only thing capable of arousing the dying intellect of the old City knight. It seemed to ring in his empty head like a blaspliemy under a church vault. " We warn't ever bankrupt !" he growled, sitting up. " The Peunywoddles alius paid their twenty shillings in the pund ! When we fust set up in bisness a bill fell due one day and my Jane she took her brooch and little Mike's silver mug to the pawnbroker's. Three pun' ten was what she raised on 'em— that was when we fust set up in bisness, and she'll tell you of it when she comes down," " She is upstairs, then, Milady Pennywoddle," nervously lisped Prince Casino, catching at this straw. " You are fortunate to have so good a wife, Sir Ham, I my- self think of marrying.' " Jane's been gone a weary while," proceeded the knight, unheeding him, and passing a hand over his own brow. " She fell down one night and looked atme with them soft eyes she bad, and in the dark she puts her hand on my head when it do throb so. " I want to tell you, Sir Ham — that is, to ask your consent to my marriage with Miss Marvell," insinuated the Prince, pouring out his request in one draught at what he considered a propitious juncture. The knight stopped short and glanced at Grace, who was standing to the right of him, the Prince being seated to the left. He made a movement to rise, but the chair was too low, and he sank back. " I didn't hear what you said, sir!" he re- marked, vacantly, as if he had received a blow, but had already forgotten who dealt it. The Prince, increasing in his tremor, repeated his request, and then Grace, arming herself with the coiu'age which her lover lacked, endeavoured to make the explanation clearer. All the while Sir Ham sat motionless, with his eyes rolling in distress from one speaker to tiie Mther. It was impossible to detoct whether any ray of understanding pierced the opaque clouds round his mind ; and as his silence became disquieting. Grace and tlio Prince stopped with a common accord and con- sidered him. Suddenly a flood of purple blood, almost black, flowed to the knight's brow and oars, and he sprang up, stretching both arms convulsively before him : " Grace ! Graco ! they've all deserted me ! " he gasped, as if choking. " Jane, my boy Mike*, and my little Mary — they've all Kone, and ill'll come of it ! I tell you she's looked at me in the dark, whisperin' things I couldn't hear, because my head throbbed as if it was a splittin !'' " Sir Ham, for Heaven's sake, compose yourself !" interposed Grace, in alarm »»♦; the servants should be attracted ; but the raving knight was not to be checked : k» tottered towards Grace, and caught hold of her dress with such force that he 18 274 tore it, though it was ribbed silk ; then as Grace made a step backwards he fran- tically twined his arms round her, and continued to shout hoarsely : — " You won't leave me, you're my wife, Grace, and they're all gone but you — you promised when my Jane went, but I didn't murder her for that — she knows it, and tell& me so in the night, laying her hand on my head when it throbs and splits. It was falling down the stairs that it hai^pened — one evenin' — and they brought her into the room where all the servants was — a-looking at her soft eyes wide open. I doan't know what's the matter wi' me — there's my head a splittin' agin. Jane ! Jane ! tell Mike and little Mary to come down to me." Grace, now fairly frightened, sought to disengage herself, and the Prince, as- sisting her, tugged at Sir Ham from behind. But here the scene became ghastly. The knight uttered a series uf cries that were like howls, and hugged Grace with a strength quadrupled by his paroxysm. lu the struggle Grace's foot caught in her dress and in a hassock, and she fell backwards over a sofa, while the Prince rushing distractedly to her rescue, struck the knight wildly on the arms to make him loosen his hold. Few blows were needed, however. The poor old man's embrace relaxed as soon as he had fallen. With a gurgling in the throat he rolled over, his face congested with blood, his eyeballs glazed and startling, and his mouth covered with a red foam. " Quick, unfasten his necktie ; it's an attack of apoplexy !" cried Grace, rising with her hair fallen, her dress torn, and her hands scratched ; and she tugged vio- lently at the bell. Servants hurried up, and Sir Ham was borne senseless to his room, a stable- boy starting off to fetch the nearest doctor. When this medical man arrived, he shook his head and pronounced that Sir Ham had received a stroke from which he was not likely to recover. The rest of the afternoon was spent in watching him as he lay breathing insensibly on the bed, and Grace, unaware that Lady Mayrose was at Springfield, wrote a telegram to her in London. The Prince undertook to have it despatched, and left the house, glad to be quit of such emotional scenes. His was not a nature to court the neighbourhood of suffering, and death he shunned as a creditor. His parting words to Grace were that he should procure a wedding license on the very morrow, in order that they might be married without f\irther delay, and leave tlxis gloomy land of fog and troubles. Grace assented. She was unnerved, too, and clung, as women will in such a crisis, to the first man who offers them protection. "Yes, Rubino ; we must be married quickly," she faltered. "If Sir Ham dies, I shall have nothing to linger for." No, Grace Marvell would have nothing to linger for. Sir Ham dead, she would be free, and, as she said, she had struggled for this and won. Won what ? Conscience is a little dark lantern which solitude sets alight in the night ; and very clear are the rays which it throws upon our struggles and winnings. Grace being alone, the lantern lit up, and steadily it burned. First, its gleam fell pale as an altar candle on the memory of Lady Peunywoddle, her bene- factress — dead ; upon the dying form of Sir Ham, who had loved her, ruined liimself, and lost his reason for her ; upon Mary, who had been her kindest firiend, and whose heart she had tried to break ; upon Mayrose, who had striven to serve ber, and whom she had struck wifeless, roofless, and penniless! These were her struggles — and now for tl;e winnings. Steadier and steadier burned the little lantern ; but what a mocking dame it was that showed at first — nothing ; then some piles of money, among which was thrown Prince Casino's lustreless coronet ! But where was the \mve love without which a woman's life is nothing — where friendship, the respect of others, the prospect of dignity and happiness as a wife and mother? She had struggled for these, too, for she was a woman with a heart, who would have loved to cast lierself at the feet of any man she could have worshipped. And there was such a one wliom she hud in her vengeance plotted to humble, and who had not been humliled — whom she had persecuted, and who had come purified out of the fiery furnace which her hatred — if it was hatred — had lighted. How 276 da he fran- but you — ae knows it, 8 and splits, ey brought wide open. ;in. Jane ! Prince, as- iie ghastly, •ace with a ?ht in her ice rushing him loosen ace relaxed sr, his face ivered with 'ace, rising ugged vio- 1, a stable- irrived, he which he ng him as ' Mayrose lertook to al scenes, e shunned wedding it further 1 in such Sir Ham for this jht; and er irst, its bene- ruined ; friend, to serve ere her le little ? ; then oronet ! —where nfe and rt, who hipped, le, and )urified How serenely and nobly his imapo shone upon her, and how that of the foreigner who was to be her husband quailed before it. Yet she had loved, or thought she had loved, this undignified jackanapes who had played upon her with his flatteries. It had been a love born of vanity, pique, sensuousnesa, and perhaps the want of something better. But no ; for she could have married honest Quilpin Leech, and risen to a position of respect and atllnenco as his wife, and she could have grown to love him. When, however, she thought of Leech, Grace asked herself whether she regretted having rejected him for her present prospects, and she answered emphati- cally, " No I" Alter all, she was such as Heaven had made her, and where was the use of gloomy musings ? Millioua of women would envy her present state. It was no despicable thing to have a husband whom she could turn with her little finger — to be rich and titled, and to see countxies before her where her beauty would kiudle round her a continuous incense ! So she tried to quench the flame of that importu- nate little lantern. But it had not yet done burning. If conscience throws so searching a glare upon past events, it has rays which pierce dimly even into the future. Grace could not help following one of these rays, and saw something dark and undefiuable which she had left out of all her former calculations. Then she grew afraid. Was it the shadowy form of retribution she saw i To some the fear of this eternal avenger comes through religious beliefs, remaining from childhood ; to others through superstition ; in either case it is a very, very old experience which shows that tlie sins of evil-doers do at some time or other, and in mysterious ways, find them out. Some one knocked at the door, and Grace was startled, but it was the butler who had come to ask her whether she would dine or take tea ? Then it occurred to Grace that she was alone in the house with servants. Lady Canonlaugh had been called back to her husband's estate for a few days by Christ- mas dvities ; the doctor was gone, leaving Sir'jHam to bo tended by his valet ; and the Prince was not to return that night. What if the servants should murder her for her jewels ! This fear was a first delight of her newly -gotten wealth, and Grace examined the face of the butler when he came in with the tea, fancying that he eyed her in a difierent way than usual. But it was fancy, for that respectable ser- vant had a twenty years' character at his back, and was a pattern of all proprieties. Grace would have liked to call down her maid to sit with her, but was afraid that the girl Avo'dd notice her disturbed condition, besides worrying her with lamenta- tions about Sir Ham. The evening was now ci'eeping on. All the shutters were closed except those of a glass door which looked from the drawing-room on to a conservatory. Grace rose after tea, and gazed through this door, trying to see into the garden beyond the flower-house ; but she could see nothinsf, for it was a cloudy night. She could only hear the wind whistling through the t' -s in the park and the rain, which had begun to fall, and was pattering upon the co.iservatory's glass roof. She returned shivering towarfls the fire, and placed a foot on the fender. Not a sound to be heard saving that fall of rain and the occasional dropping of a coal into the grate. She took up a book, and made an attemi)t to read, but her eyes wandered away. Surely the little lantern had begun to burn again — and what was it that made it now shed such a light of such strange and fearful distinctness I The undefinable shadows which it had conjured up were no longer shadows ; they had transformed themselves into the apprehension (;f something tangible — aye, of an immediately impending danger. That danger was approaching her — now it was close at hand — now assuredly it was bursting on her. " Who is there !" cried Grace, abruptly starting up, blanched of all colour. The door of the conservatory had opened, and a wild, dishevelled figure was staring into the drawing-room, his face flattened against the glass. " Help ! help ! help !" screamed Grace, her heart seeming to freeze as she turned to fly. The glass of the door burst inwards with a tremendous crash, an arm was pro- truded through the jagged aperture and wrenched round the key in the lock. The door flew open. 27G CHAPTER IX. (,'OALH OF FIRE. At about the time wlien Sir Ham I'ennywocUlle was fulling down senseless there was a commotion in Dr. Rogiir's asylum for the mentally afflicted, owing to the disappearance of Mr. Marvull. The dinner-bell had rung summoninu the mentally afflicted to eat third-quality beef half-sodden, but Mr. Marvell did not answer the call, His keejier, Gnrdles, ran out into the garden and shouted for him under his window by the name of "Mr. Job," it being the custom in these asylums ti) strip patients of their family names, along with their valuables and ollunsive weapons. If Gurdles had not been under obligations to Mr. Marvell's friend, Mr. Leech, for frequent tips, he would have shouted simply " Jo1»," for brevity is the soul of wit. "Mr. Jo-ob ! your dinner's a gettin' co-old !" bawled Ourdles ; then, as no answer came, he solilorjuised, " Where the dooce can the old idiot have got to i " Gurdles felt alarmed, because peccafit. Since Mr. Marvell had begun to prof- fer horrible menaces jigainst the jtersons whom he supposed to have conspired against him, orders had been given that ho should not l)e left alone an instant. But at meal-times all the hands in the asylum wore generally required to carry in the dishes, and Mr. Marvell would have had time to hide himself in the ([uarter of an hour between the first dinner-bell and the second. Now it was well known to Dr. Rogur that all his patients were left un watched while meals were being served — it was known to him beca\i8e, for reasons of lucre, he always kept a staff of attend- ants less numerous than was required ; but Giirdles had cognizance enough of this world's ways to guess that if anything went wrong it would be he- and not Dr. Rogur who wo\dd bear the blame. This is why he felt alarmed. The ward in which Mr. Marvell was confined was connected on one side with Dr. Rogur's private house, and on the other with the offtces, linen-rooms, and kitchens. A wall on the right of the windows parted the ward-yard from Dr. Rogur's private garden, and one on the left divided it from the kitchen-court, which opened on to a public road, and which wasfretjuented all day by tradesmen's boys coming with goods. At the end of the ward-yard was a tall gate, leading to the other wards and gardens, more or less big according to the special maladies of the patients caged there, and according also to the price they paid. All the walls were such as an agile patient could have easily climbed over by the help of a couple of chairs, the branches of the overhanging trees, and a quarter of an hour's time, with dusk to shelter him ; but Mr. Marvell was not agile, and this was broad day- light. So Gurdles came to the conclusion that either the door leading into the kitchen-court had by some inadvertence been left open, and that Mr. Job had slipped through it, or that Mr. Job had suddenly fallen down in a fit. He pre- ferred the latter hypothesis to the former, and Avas about to satisfy himself as to his correctness by darting up to the patient's room, when he was struck by a rever- beration of red light flashing on the panes of one of the room windows which was closed, and by a cloud of smf>ke issuing from the other which was open. *' By Jingo! the old idiot has set tire to hisself ; yet I'd locked his fire-grating tight enough!" muttered Gurdles, with a curse, his last remark having reference to the iron net-work screening the hearths of all lunatics to prevent them medling ■with their own fires. Gurdles made a dart up the staircase, but halfway tlie smoke began to choke him. He struggled on valiantly, however, and reached the patient's door ; but no sooner had he opened it than a great tongue of flame licked hini in the face, and drove him back yelping, with all his lungs — " Fire ! the 'ouse ia afire !" At the cry the dining-room was emptied in an instant of patients and keepers, the latter incredulous, the former wonder-stricken or grinning, according to their moods, and all chewing thir tough beef. Dr. Rogur, who seldom favour- ed his afflicted friends with a visit, seemed to to have divined by instinct that some- thing was amiss, for the door leading out of his garden opened, an anxious face was 277 senseless owing to 'd- quality Gnrdlea, I name of eir family not been he would sn, as no got to / " n to j)rof- conspired 1 instant. } carry in juarter of known to ng served of attend- gh of this I not Dr. side with )oms. and from Dr. [1 en-court, adesmen'a eading to aladies of lie walls a couple ur's time, road day- into the Job had He pre- self as to a rever- rhich was e -grating fereuce to medling to choke but no ace, and keepers, to their favour- at some- i face was protruded, and the Doctor, taking in the situation at a glance, criml.'with wrath and terror cnmniiugled — "It's Gurdles who is responsible for this ! Why, Mr. Job must hv burning ; save him somebody, and put out the fire." " 'Taint mo as is responsible," grumbled ^Ir. Gurdles, ^nlkily. with his knuck- les in his eyes; "the fire a'most blinded me." " But put it out, put it out!" repeated Dr. Uogur. Iiiii: bliiuleil and choked himsolf now by the columns of smoke rolling out one upon the other. " Mr. Job is in there, [ suppose ; save him, some one, at any risk.'" Dr. Kogur naturally meant "at any risk to yourselves." for ho nmdo no ofl'or to iiiiporil himself, and his anxiety on Mr, Marvell's account proceeded solely from the iiict that the combustion of this patient would entail on him a loss of t'HOO a year. However, a keeper — one of those modest heroes who are to ln' found among all classes of En^'lisluncn where there is a (buiger to be faced and no thanks to re- ceive — vanished, and soon came hurryiu',' i)ack a-.-ross the garden trailing a ladder with one hand and holding a hatchet in the otiier. He i)laute(l tiie ladder a^'ainst the open window, nimbly scaled it, knocked away in halt' a dozen blows the wire grating before the window, and spran*;; into the flaming room. He remained invisible a lew instants, and then returned, excitedly coughing rather than crying — " Mr. Job ain't here, and the room 'ave been set fire to a'pur- pose ! The mattrasses 'ave all been piled up and are blazing !" Less than a minute had the keeper been in the room, but his hair, ej'ebrows, and beard were all scorched away; and when ho slid down the ladder his clothes came off him in cinders. If there could bo any doul)t as to the intentional causes of the fire it was soon dispelled by the fiames bursting out suddenly at another extremity of the building. Meanwhile, the door which Gurdles had loft open haviiif;; promoted a draught, the fire could be hoard roaring like a furnace, while wood-work began to crackle and window-panes burst with the intensity of the heat. " Put all the patients into Ward Throe !" screamed Dr. llogur, beside himself. But this order passed unheeded in the growing confusion. Many of the keep- ers wanted to save the trunks that contained their clothes iind savings, and rushed away in all directions, leaving gates open behind them. A strong east wind that was blowing beat down the smoke upon the gardens, enshrouding them in a thick fog. through which could bo heard doors unlocked and banging, maniacs howling with frii^'ht or delight, while others, competent to take care of themselves, made for the nearest egress, frantic at this unexpected chance of recovering their liberty. Amid so much smoke, and with an undisciplined staff of attendants, it was im- possible to exercise any restraint on the patients. Most of them surged through the kitchen courtyard, where scullery maids and cooks were already scudding away with their aprons over their heads ; and Dr. Kogur himself, fearing ho should be stifled if ho remained in the smoke, decamped to effect the rescue of his portable property, and to despatch the first willing servant to the nearest fire-station. Now, when the smoke had become so thick as to bo impenetrable, and when the flames had begun to leap through all the windows of the burning house in huge red forks, Mr. Job Marvell, who had been lying under a sofa in the day-room of his ward, stole out on all fours, and pjroped his way to the gate through which the rest had fled or were flying. Hastening keepers and patients passed him, itulistinct as shadows ; somebody tripped up over him, and roared with fright. He, the while, pushed forward stealthily and steadily till he reached the kitchen-yard. Another few steps, and he was in the road, whence by plunging through a hedge- gap he attained a field ; and there he began to run till he came to a plot of rising ground, fi-om which he could gaze on his work. The flames, fanned by the wind, were rising now, and formed a waving crest of fire above the house. Millions of sparks flew upwards from rafters in full blaze ; smoke, now blue, now grej', streamed from crevices in the roofs like whitfs of steam, or rolled away up and down in curling gusts. People were flocking along the roads from all parts, and from the windows of Dr. Eogur's portion of the house, mat- trasses, linen, and breakable furniture, even to clocks, were being cast out in the usual panic of salvage. All this while runaway patients, with their hearts in their IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) ij. 1.0 I.I ¥^^ ill 2.5 ''' Ilia ^ mil 2.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 .« 6" — ► ^ .->^ / o / Photographic Sciences Corporation 4V ^^ ^-o^' \ \ % V # <^ <\ ^J<-' ^ V <*. 73 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY 14580 (716)872-4303 1 ^ <^ ^> CP, (/J 278 heels, liatlesB, and in many instances tattered, were scampering away across fields as fast as they could go. Mr. Marvell laiscd a yelling laugh uf exultation, and when the roof at length fell in with an astounding crash, followed by an upheaved column of black smoke, and a rain uf stones, ashes, and charred splinters, he shook both his fists and danced ; then turned, and laughing still, as at the best of jokes, set his face towards Loudon, Dr. Kogur's asylum was destined to be gutted. The ne^^rest tire engine was five miles distant, and when it arrived water was wanting, according to wont, and the firemen could only look on silently, while the local vestrymen were abusing one anotlier like tramps because each wished to lay the blame of the failing water on his neighbour. Soon after the eii;.'iiies. a squad of mounted police galloped up, and the sergeant, addressing l)r. liogur. who was wringing his hands, and mount- ing guard in a meadow over a stack of drawing-room chairs and sofas, a piano, a bedstead, an assortment of copper saucepans, a strong box, an oil portrait of him- self, and a dozen ledgers which he had been enabled to save, asked him for ex- planations, " How did tins happen, doctor I" " It was one of my patients did it, ' wliined Dr. Rogur, wh<< was truthful be- cause he knew that any eijuivocation Uki^jhl bo used against him by the insurance offices. " And is your patient in custody, sir ;'"' " No ; he has escai)ed, I fear," said Di Rognr. Then recollecting Mr. Mar- veil's threats against Mayrc)se, Miss Marve'.l, and Mr. Keiine-Midge, this friend of the mentally afHicted beckoned tlie sergeant aside, and whispered to him for five minutes. " He is a very murdennis lunatic— a case oi homicidal dementia — and I dare say he will make an attemjtt to murder his daughter and Lord Mayrose. He says the two are ' (Here some more wliispering ) •' Do you mean Lord Mayrose the Minister ?"' imiuired the sergeant, likewise with bated br»iath. " Yes ; and I tliink his lordshiii should be warned. Such hmatics are most treacherous and reckless. " It iH^eded no more to set the sergeant Hying. He spurred away for London, and an hour later dashed reeking int(j Scotland Yard. Very shortly afterwards the Chief C\)miuissioner himself darted across Whitehall. The task of warning May- rose was too delicate to be entrusted to a subordinate. It was nearly six o'clock, the lamps in the streets were lighted, and office hours were over. Most of the clerks had Icjug gone home, b\it the blue-coated porter in the hall apprised the Chief Commissioner that Lord ]Mayrose was still within. The fact was, despatches had been received tliat day from African Governors, and May- rose, contrary to the usual practice of principal secretaries, made a point of reading and annotating all despatches hiniself, instead of entrusting this task to clerks. He was sitting wi*h a cup of strong tea at his elbow, geographical charts under his eyes (to make the desjjatches intelligible), and at least three long hours' work be- fore him, when the pcdice ofiicial entered. The Chief Conniiissioner at once explained the situation, and trod lightly over the delicate part of liis message. " This Mr Marvell is a very dangerous character to be at large. He is haunted by ideas of revenge." " Yes ; I know him, i)oor fellow. He has been maddened by injustice." " But it is necessary you should be on your guard, for he labours under the delusion that his daughter is living under your lordship's protection." The Chief Commissioner said "delusion' from neces.sary politeness, but a police-chief has so much experience of the by paths of this life that he is never sceptical as to scandals ; and this one, thougli an admirer of Mayrose, believed all that his sergeant had whisjiered to liim. " Well, I see nothing for it but to set detectives near Miss Marvell's residence, Mr. Keane-Midge's, and mine," said Mayrose. "That shall of course be done at once, and the railway stations will be watched." 279 "I will give you Miss Marvell's address, but 1 am nut sure wheti'?r .ihe n in to»m," proceeded Mayrose, taking up a pen. " Mr. Leech, the Permanent-Secre- tary, might have helped you in warning Miss Marvell, but he has gone to Hamp- stead to dine with some friends." Mayrose did not realize the presence of any danger to himself, but of a sudden he remembered that Mary was alone at Springfield. The escaped lunatic, if ho did not find his daugliter in town, might go down to Penny, and thence to Springfield ; and though it was not likely that he would reach Mary, he might occasion her some fright, which woiild be dangerous in her present condition. It was necessary that Mayrose should shortly go down to Springfield to regulate ntfnirs connected with its sale, and also to see Zellie, who had written almost iujporiously, to beg that he would come to see her. Under these new circumstances, he reflected that ho might as well go down to Springfield that night. Quilpin Leech wus not in the way, having been invited to attend a family celebration of all the Hampstead nnA Fulham Leaches, over his recent appointment. If he had been at hand, Mayroso might have asked him to go and warn the Springfield servants ; but as it was, he could discharge the mission himseif, and without intnuling on Mary. He would go and order the lodge-porter to admit no one into the Springfield grounds without exami- nation, and W()\ild then return and sleep at the " Crown " at Hiveborough. This plan having rapidly shaped itself in his mind, he said to the Commissioner — " I think I will go down to Springfield myself to-night, Colonel, and take measures to i»rotect my wife from possible annoyance. There is u train starts at six, but 1 am too late for it : I shall be able to catch the 7:0.'5." '•I think you will do prudently, my lord," answered the Chief Commissioner, who natiirally attributetl Mayrose's deterniinatiofi to a d('Hiri> to escape from the chance of a town fntms with a lunatic, wJiich would make the newspapers talk. "It is best, I think, to ktep out of London until we have caught the man, and this cannot be long, for it is ]>robuble that he Jias no money. Meanwhile, we shall take every precaution." And needless to say the Chief Couiniissioner wa.» as good us his word. With the surprisini.' celerity alwaj's displayed in shielding important peoi)le fnjin injury, telegrams were sent to every jjolice-stjition in London, notify- ing that an escaped lunatic was at large with inurclerous designs against a Minister. A i)air of detectives wen; sent to Sir Ham's house at Kensington ; another pair ensconced themselves in .Mayrose's kitchen ; a fifth even disturbed Quilpin Loecli over his dinner at Hampsteiul, and brought him back to tf)wn in a flurry, and others were told ott" to every railway station, underground and overground. Fully forty detectives were out that night hjoking for Dr. Hogur's patient. Unfortunately they were too late, for by the time enquiries were instituted at Kensington the lunatic had already been there and gone. Finding his daughter was o\it of town, he had repaired to Berkeley Square, and either by mistake or by the caution of Bino, disliking his looks, had been tcdd that Mayrose was absent too. When the detectives came U) watcii for him at the railway station, he was long gone to Hive- borough, for he possessed some monej', which his constant visitor. Leech, had innocently given him. Mayrose did not finish reading his despatches. To the great relief of the hall- porter, who had chafed at being kept on duty whilo the Minister read letters from African persons, he took away tlie more iniportant despatches to peruse on the train, and set ofT for the station without goinjr homo, but sending a messenjjer to Bino to order him to fcdlow to Hiveborouirh with a drossing-bag. All this wliilf he knew nothing of Sir Ham"s attack, (iracos dcspatoli liad been addressed to Lady Mayrose. but since Mary had reproached him with confiscating her letters. May- rose had directed that all rommunicetions for his wife should be remitted to her, so that the telegram had been put tip in the usual evejiin<,' jnircel tor Sprirgtield. Mayrose reached the station in good time, and travelled to Hiveborough withottt other incident than the company of a facetious bagman, who prevented him Iroin glancing at his despatches. The line was onr which had tried the agieeable^ex- periment of abolishing second-class, and the bagman recognizing Mayrose through public portraits undertook to draw him out on the politics of the day. An American politician might have put such an interlocutor easily back into his place ; but the 280 qniet courtesy of au Eun;lish nobleman had no more play on thin bagman than ether on the back of a tortoise, and Mayroso was fiiin to conclude the interview by pocketing a prospectus in which suporftne clothes at. thirty shillings the suit were ofTered on the three years' system of payment. At Hiveborough it occurred to Mayrose to wonder whether the Chief Com- missioner had sent a telegram to warn the country police of Mr. Marvell's escape, and he asked for the station-master to inquire of him. Tlio station-master had heard of no such telegram. Mayroso then asked whether any one answering to the description of Mr. Marvcll had boon seen at Hiveboroujjh. " Yes," replied the station-master, " a white-headed, wild-looking genflcumn Imd come ft'oiu London an hour before. Ho was tlio only passenger by the six train, and he had question- ed a porter about the way to Penny on foot." This seemed conclusive, and for the first time now Mayrose began to feel and feai' danger. Yet ho ought to have experienced relief, for the ilanger was diverted from Mary's way, and was on the track of the woman wlio Imil 1m( n his relentless enemy. But Maj'rose was too l)ravc not to shiver at the thought .'t an unknown peril dog- ging oven his worst foe — especially as that foe was ri woman. At the consciousness that Grace ^larvell's life might be threatened, Mayrose instantly forgot tliat she had ever injured him. His resentment was put aside like a swonl in its sheath. There was but one Uy at the station, and it was wanted for a fat lady with some luggage ; so Mayrose liastened into Hiveborough on foot, and made for the police station. It was a windy, sloppy night, witli clouds overhead, and a drizzle of cold rain ; and the town wore that heaven-t'orsaken look of small provincial boroughs after night-fall. The rows of gas-jets burned with dull redness ; the shops were mostly closed ; not a dog was in the streets, but here and tl»ere some tattered, debased shadow of womanliood hung a* a corner near a puljlic-liouse, from which the sounds of a concertina and coarse singing streamed untiniefuUj'. It was down a by-street that slione tlie IjIuc glass lamp of the ))olice-slation; and Mayi'ose, rush- ing in all wet, for ho liad no mnlirella, found two policemen. Mayrose rapidly intimated on what errand he li.id conio, and asked whether a couple of pf)lioen»en could bu dispatched at once to Penny. The two men, aston- ished at such a visit, were standing upright and respectful, and listened with all thfcir ears. One, who was just off iluty, volunteered to start, and .said he would find a mate m a few minutes. He also remarked that he thought the lunatic could not have had more than half an hour's start. "My lord, 1 fancy it nnist liavt> been that ])arty who asked me not three- quarters of an horn" ago the road to Penny. I told bini and saw him a minute af- terwards go into Cuttles', the iroinnonger's." ■'If that ho the case a man on horseback might overtake liim before he reached the park. I think the best way will bo that you and I should go together. Can you ride ?" " Yes, my lord, I served in the 0th Lancers." " 1 will go to the ' Crown,' then, and get a couple of horses saddled; mean- time, would you run to the ironmonger's, please, and find ont what tlio man did there i It will be as well to bring your handcutls." The policeman promptly strapped on his cajie again ; he and Mayroso parted at the door, running in opposite directions, and soon the man arrived breathless and somewhat .scared to say that the " i)arty" had purchased at the ironmonger's a largo clasp knife for live shillings. These suspicious tidings were brought into the stable-ya-d of the "Crown," where INIayro.se and a lumpish ostler were saddling two screw hunters by the light of a lantern with a tallow dip in it. The news of the peer's presence speedily drew out the landlord, who lent a hand, and also sonic of the local quidnuncs who made of tlie "Crown's" tap-room their habitual even- ing resort — the postmaster, a bank-clerk, i* bachelor corn-chandler ; but these per- sons having heard of Sir Ham's precarious condition, attributed Mayrose's arrival to family motives. The coming of the policeman, however, set conjecture afoot, and it was in thn midst of whisperings that Mayrose and his companion sprang into their saddles and set off down the High street at full gallup. What a night for a gallop I So long as they were in the town it was well 281 (iched (.'ail irted thlcsa gur's into Hint,' ts of Some Iven- 1 P^*"" rival foot, into IwoU enough, but along the country road, where no lamps and few houses were, it was dark as pitch. Country cows, too, and donkeya, have a knack of straying out of fields and lying down in the middle of roads ; and Mayrose, who rode a little in advance, was obliged to hold over his horse's head the lantern which the policeman had pnidently brought. The downpotir of rain was continuous. The water, blown slantwise by the wind, lashed into Mayrose's eyes, saaked his clothes, and caused a dripple like that of a roof gutter to fall from the brim of his hat over his face. On both sides of the way the wind soughed through the trees, making them noisily toss their branches aloft, and scatter twigs along tlie road, every foot of which was chequered with pTuUUo.s that splashed flakes of slusli on to the legs of the horses and their riders. Nevertheless, the pursuers urged on their beasts with voice and heel, and soon ru.ichod the lodge. The people at the lodge were up expecting the «loctor and other visitors through the night to see Sir Ham ; and the keeper, on being fpiestioned, informed Mayrose that a stranger with white hair had passed the gates ten minutes before. This took a load of anxiety (ttl' JMayrose's mind. Ten minutes was not a long start, and it was improbable that the lunatic would have time to do any mischief before the hue and cry was raised after him ; so slackening his pace as he breasted the avenue, Mayrose said to the policeuian — " When we reach the hall go in, please, and s.iy that a lunatic is prowling about the gi'ounds. Have all the servants out, and remain with them yourself. I myself will ride liack to Hiveborough to have more as.sistance sent you ; btit you • need not mention at tlie hall that 1 rode with you." "Very well, my lord,"' answered the policeman; but almost instantaneously he shouted, " Halloa !' The cry was evoked Ijy the tigure of a man which darted suddenly across the road before the horses' heads, and rushed away over the turf to the right. > Mayrose turned the lantern, and (piickly dutected the tigure to be Mr. Marvell s ; but he checked the impulse of the policeman, who had wheeled his horse, and was for riding down the fugitive. The Penny estate was laid oiit in ornamental walks, .shrubberies, and hollon-s ; there were statues about, and a cnxjuet ground, where hoops were ti.xed pernianeiitlj' — all of wliich things would be so many ambu.shes to a horse. 3Iu(;h better, said Mayrose, ride straight to the house, ^ow that the lunatic's whereabouts wa.? known half tlie danger of his presence was averted. This would have luen good reasoning if the riders could liave pushed on to the hall witliout hindrance. I ufortiinateiy, the road was being mended half way ; barriers were set up, and the horsemen had to strike across a tract of turf, the path over whicli was marked for carriages by ropes and lanterns. This lost them five minutes. When they got into tlie avenue again thoj' were close to the house, but the lunatic, who had taken the sliortest cut, had drawn .aliead of them. Though they could not see him, they lieard him kicking violently at the door of the conserva- tory, the lock of which soon Hew off and gave him admittance. Mayrose, who knew that the conservatory communicated directlj' with the drawing-room, through the one unshuttered windo'v of which a light could bo seen, hurriedly expressed his alarm to the policeman ; and it was tlien that tins bravo l)ut o})t\i3e gujirdian of the peace wrought evil by doing a rasli thing. Tiiinking lie could attain the conserva- tory quicker by branching oil" the road, lie turned his bridle before Mayrose could stop him, and darted otl' at racing i)ace in the direction of the light. Hut before he had cleared twenty yards in the dark his horse ran full tilt at a m.arble statue, recoiled witli a stiHed neigh at the shook, then fell like almnp, da!;hing tlie police- man twenty paces to the front, senseless, and with collar-bone smashed. Mayrose heard his companion's groan, but he had no time to rescue him. Spiirriiig onward, he reigned in at the conservatory just as the lunatic had Ijroken the glass of the second door and had bounded int(j the drawing-room. Grace had risen, and was screaming frantically for succour. At the sight of her father, armed and glaring, all her blood seemed to curdle. For a moment she stood .stock still, then made a maddened dart towards the door leading into the hall. Uut the lunatic forestalled her. With the diabolical cunning of insanity, he flew to the door too, turned the key in the lock, and thrust it in his ^" It- Y r 282 pocket. But by this movement Grace was temporarily saved ; for when her father, slirieking ecstatically over his stratagem, turned round upon her with knife up- lifted, he was confronted by Mayrose, who had burst into the room, leaping over a sofa, and stood with a chair uplifted, protecting Grace. It was a palpitating scene. Grace, more terrified by the sight of her succourer than by that of her mad father, had shrunk as at an apparition, and gazed at Mayrose as if she could not believe her eyes. Mayrose himself had not said a word. He had thrown oiT his hat, and holding up the chair as a buttress kept his clrar gaze fixed on the lunatic. In the first shock of surprise, the lunatic's arm dropped ; but it was only for a moment. With a gush of blood flying up to his face, and a rabid gleam in his eyes, he yelled : — " You, her paramour! Then I've got you both together! See, the jade is cow- ering at your danger moro than at hers ! Look at tlie love in her eyes ! She's been hke that since she first saw you. But I'll kill you first, and so make lier die a double death ; and any jury'll accjuit me ! Now see to yourself you smooth-faced hypocrite!" with which deadly menace the lunatic sprang forward, with his knife in air. Now, Mayrose's part was a difficult one. Any ordinary foe he could have foiled and disposed of ; but the delicate instincts of a manly spirit were ever present to guide or thwai't him, and ho had now to remember that this murderous lunatic was the father of the girl whom he had come to save, and that he could do him no harm in her sight. Under the circumstances the contest was not equal. Tlic knife in descending buried itself in the bottom of the chair, and ^layrose gave the chair a" rapid wrench to whip the knife out of the maniac's hands, then closed with him, and bore him to the floor on his kuces, ho on the top, and weigliing on the maniac's back with his chest. But Mr. Marvell had net loosed his hold of the knife, and hissing disjointed imprecations, he drew it across both his assailant's bunds, causing a long stream of blood to trickle over his own lioad and on to the carpot. Then Mayrose, feeling his hands useloss. cried despairingly to Grace : — " Call for help, please. I tlunk I can manage him ; but don't come back to this scene yourself?" These words, however, falling like coals of fire on Grace's head, only drew from her a sort of guttiiral sob. Heaven only knows what she had endured dur- ing the brief .struggle in which hor safety was being wrestled for by the one man on earth from whom she could least claim protection!, but on seeing Mayrose's blood she threw herself cm to her knees, ring killed by her. (^Jrace had risen as fast as Mr. Marvell, clutching the knife in her hand, and placing herself in front of May- rose so as to shield him. Mayro.9e attempted to lift a chair, but his bleeding hands refused their office ; perceiving, however, the lunatic advanced rose's life was treinbling in the balance, and it was doubtful whether he would survive the night. Mayrose, Grace Marvell, and Sir Ham were to all .semblance dying under the same roof ; and the "Tragedy at Penny Hall" was filling the papers with daily columns of details and conjectures. There were not wanting those who scented therein /I most v>alatable scandal. A n )bleman, married, and Minister of an un- popular Government, slain by the outraged father of a girl with whom he had an illicit connection ! — wh.at a text for glossings in Club smoking-rooms, and for endless gossip over the tea-tables of suburban villus I Mr. Marvell had been arrested, and on being brought before a magistrate hid made a rabid denunciation of Mayrose, Grace, and Mr. Koaiie-Midge ; and tlio i.itter gentleman, who had been the pri- mary instrument in crazing Mr. Marvell, of course had now come off unscathed, whilst a high-minded Minister paid for his little officialities. Mr. Keano-Midgo remembered what things jNIayrose had sought to do unto him, and discharged the gnidge of the gnat against the bee. He said unctuously that he felt b-)und to de- clare " in the interests of justice " that there had certainly been suspicious rela- tions between Lord Mayrose and Miss Marvell. Mr. Marvell was undoubtedly mad, and had always been so ; indeed, his dismissal from place had been due to his eccentricities, so thiit Mr. Keane-Midge could only attribute Lord May- rose's advocacy of this wretched man's case to an interest — " a pure interest," he believed — in the young lady. But an article in the Jlepurttr shod on tlie ui.attor its proper light. Mr. Dexter who had a long score against Graco. but felt j,'ratefully tftwards Mayro.se, instituted enquiries with Leech, Sir. Deedes, I'rincc Casino, iuul otliors. and the result was a long narrative true in its main points. Tims can tlio most ciirofiilly guarded secrets of men's lives bo thrown as a pasture to vidgar tongues. The public learned every private particular almut Graoo and Sir Ham, the Loan, the hostility of Grace to- wards Mayrose, her appnipriation oltlu- old kniijht's estates, and Mayrose's noble sacrifice of his private fortune to maintain his latlier-in-law"s integrity. Nothing was kept back but what concerned Lady A/aioa Carol, and the efTect of these dis- closures was that in the eyes of all wlio were not \vilfull\- lilind Mayrose became stamped from that day as a liero. But the existence of the liero was flickering more and more feebly, and his wife who nursed him, wondered whether ho woiild ever again recover consciousness to hear her say all that was on her heart, to bless him and crave his forgiveness for having a moment misjudged him. What need had she of proofs now to believe her husband innocent of all she had imputed to him ? Sitting by his hodside, she had, in the midst of her harrowing grief, shed tears of joy and pride over his uncon- sions band on learning the story of his magnanimous self-impoverishment, and his fZ ^ 284 knightly surrender of his Ufe for the woman who had broueht him to beggary. Then she recalled how he had sought to justify himself before lier when she accused him, and the resigned look — not reproachful, but manly and sad — which he had cast her when she refused to believe his words. Quilpin Leech helped to complete her remorse. He could speak now without fear of being thought to be in conni- vance with his cousin, and the tale he related of Mayrose's efforts to save Zellie was one well calculated to touch the heart of a woman — a tale of devotion as generous as it was rare, as beautiful as it was true. Besides, Mary was now well disposed to absolve and sympathise with Zellie, whose only offence was to have luvod with fidelity a man whom Mary above all others knew to be so loveable. So the poor repentant little wife watched and prayed while Sir David Wilson, the most eminent physician in London, wrestled with the grim death who was seeking to widow her. The danger was too grave for any of those useless consulta- tions wherein three doctors, professionally rival, hold colloquies only to disagree. Against death one whole mind is stronger than three divided ones, especially such a mind as Sir David's. He brought to bear all the tenacity of a Scotchman with the keen force of his science, and inch by inch fought with the Eternal Enemy. At last came the moment when human skill can do no more, and when the issues must all be left with the Divine Healer. Mayrose fell into a deep sleep, and it was known that he would either pass away quietly in it, or awake to a new bii'th. But, meanwhile, what of Zellie Carol ? If the crushing of a flower brings out all its perfume, the wringing of a heart will often draw out its purest qualities. Struck with horror at the news of May- rose's tragic adventure, Zellie's pangs were intensified by her ignorance as to the true circumstances of the event. She had not seen Mayi'ose for some days, and now her tortuous-minded, garrulous maid came bursting with ignoble tattle to tell her that Mayrose had been murdered through the fault of "a young lady with whom he kept company." Zellie would have been no woman had not a mordant jealousy temporarily seized her ; but fortunately she was simple concerning evil, and could but half understand all that her maid would have had her know. What little she could understand, too, she soon rejected as incredible and impious. But it was then that she began to feel how ambiguous was her position, through not daring to show cjpenly her anguish about Mayrose's fate. Had she remained with the friend of her childhood on the same terms as of old, how unaf- fectedly she would have betrayed her grief, how she would have relieved her heart by talking of the sad event to her mother, to everybody ! As it was, her dawning consciousness of guiltiness made her fear to be suspected ; and while Lady Rose- mary, in w oful distress, was despatching servants to Penny Hall with messages of condolence and requests for news, Zellie aftected an impassiveness which surprised and almost shocked her mother. But inwardly Zellie was consumed by torturing fire, and she sent oft" her maid to bid Quilpin Leech come to her. Leech, whose every hour was now occupied be- tween night attendance in the sick-rooms and day work in the State Department, all the labour of which had fallen on to his hands, came nevertheless, though he was determined that in this interview he would speak to Zellie in a way she would remember to her life's end. He chose a' Sunday for his visit, and Zellie, who had been apprised beforehand of his coming, took a pretext for not going to the village church with her mother, and stole out with her maid into the park to meet him. It was a fine frosty morning, and the last notes of the church bells were pealing clearly through the winter air as Zellie took her stand near the familiar belvedere, and saw Leech come through the trees. Her feet burned with impatience as he advanced towards her walking — she would have had him run — and at length she hastened forward herself to encounter him half-way. '' What has happened, Mr. Leech {" she said, shaking hands with him, and quivering in every limb. Leech was very sad ; his manner was cold too, and he paused some moments before giving an answer. Then he related the melancholy story, but long before he had ended Zellie burst into tears. *' Oh, dear, dear, what can I do ?" she cried. " It is misery to be so helpless!" 285 and ii" " You can do nothing— you have done too much ah-eady, Lady Azalea," an- swered Leech, gravely. " I have not finished yet, for I must odd that before Mayrose was struck down he and his wife had parted because Lady Mayrose sus- pected you of being his mistress I " " Mr. Leech t exclaimed Zellie, all her patrician blood flushing to her brow with shame and revolt. " Why should I conceal the truth from you ? " repUed Leech. " Mayrose wrote to you the other day explaining what had occurred, but he was too generous to tell you what you had made him suffer." " It is most unmanly of you ti) speak hke that, for you well know I am inno- cent," sobbed Zellie. •' I know it ; but how would others have believed it, Lady Azalea ? You had nearly wreck-id Mayrose's happinesH, and that at a time when his wife had become dear above all other women to him, from the hope that she was going to bear him a child." •' Oh, don't, Mr. Leech ! Don't you see what misery you are cauuing me ? " panted Zellie, placing her hands on her breast. •' I am not seeking to speak cruelly, for your iove exctises you," rejoined Leech, gently ; " but now let what I am going to say console you, and inspire you with a resolution worthy of your love : Mayrose's heart was once wholly yours, and his tender affection for you is still infinite, though it is one that neither you nor he need be ashamed of." Zellie cried silently, but her tears were less bitter now, for these last words were balm to her. " He loves you as any woman might be proud to be loved,'' continued Leech ; '* but now he has duties towards his wife ; and just as he would have been the truest of husbands to you had you married him, so will he be true to her. By claiming anything more of him than what a man can openly give to a woman who is not his wife you will only be causing him sorrow and trouble, and storing up days of heavy remorse for yourself." " But what am I to do ? " waUed Zellie, in the most abject distress. " Make atonement. Mayrose risked life-long misery and disgrace for you ; requite this by making a sacrifice to his peace henceforth," answered Leech, be- seechingly ; "if he recovers, let him learn that you have confessed everything to Lady Rosemary, and asked forgiveness of his wife — who will grant it you but too gladly, poor little thing, for she knows the truth now." " Confeso to my mother ! Oh ! men never know what they say when they speak to women I " murmured Zellie, with a forlorn gesture. " I am recommending a sacrifice, I know, but you stand deep in Mayrose's debt." " Nobody feels it more than I do — but you would not speak in such terms if you knew what love was." " I know it indeed. Lady Azalea ; and that is why I can sympathize with you," said Leech, a little bitterly. " Miss Marvell, who lies at death's door, is not less dear to me than you were to Mayrose, and I should esteem no sacrifice of my own happiness too heavy to procure her an hour's joy." This little touch of fellow-feeling in grief wrought more on Zellie than the rest. She glanced up through her tears, and saw how pale and cure-worn Leech was. looking. " I am 60 sorry. I didn't know," she faltered. " I hope Miss Marvell is better?" " I can only pray and trust," said Leech whose voice had just the faintest quaver in it. •' And — and do you think Lord Mayrose will recover ?" "Yes, by Heaven's grace, I cannot think that his career is spent," answered Leech, composed again. " But here let me repeat my entreaties to Lady Azalea ; not only confess everything to your mother, but remember that there is no purer return you could make to the man you have loved than that of showing him that his brotherly care of you has left you with a heart strengthened to accept such I|r 1^- i -f 286 duties as your young life ma^ still reserve for you. The last load of anxiety would be removed from his mind if he could see you the happv wife of a good man." " Happy wife I" echoed Zellie, with a moan ; " I would lay down ray life to save him— out do you think I can forget him in a day ?" " Not in a day, but in course of time. To offer your life is nothing ; we do that for those who are indifferent to us ; he has just proved it." " I would endure pain, shame, untold misery for his sake." " Then why not endure happiness ? He could have no pleasure in seeing you miserable ; but give him the gladness of seeing that your young'beauty, grace, and goodness are not to be wasted by what would bo a mora) suicide ; let him look with pride upon his young sister revived by his fostering care to a Hfe of new hopes and joys ! See, Lady Azalea, the man in whose name I plead may be dead as I speak, and perhaps his kindly spirit is hovering over us — in gratitude and reverence to him promise me you will try." Zellie hung her head. Her heart-wrung toars had burst out afresh at the mention af Mayrose's possible death, and she pressed her handkerchief to her eyes whilst her breast was convulsed by sobs. Leech had uncovered himself in pro- nouncing Mayrose's name, and stood before her bare-headed whilst he waited for her answer. When he saw that no reply came he repeated his question in a lower tone and his voice had in it all the manlv, protecting earnestness of a proven fnend'8. •' Lady Azalea, will you try ?" Still no answer. "Perhaps God will grant \is a miracle," said Leech, mournfully, " for He has Jromised that He would not despise the sacritice of a broken and contrite heart, f by vowing to do what I asked, Lady Azalea, you could restore Mayrose to health, would you do it ? Weigh your answer before it is recorded as a vow.'' "Oh, yes," faltered Zellie; and saying this she threw hor brimming eyes instinctively upwards, and clasped her hands. "Then God bless you !" said Leech ; " and may He in His mercy hear you, give you fortitude, and remove all thorns from your path " — muttering which words he turned and left her. Now what passed between Zellie and her mother after this l We do not pre- sume to reveal the secret, nor to conjecture with what tears and humiliation, with what self-reproach and appeals for solace, Zellie poured out her confession. Enough that she did confess, and came through the ordeal with that new fortitude which Leech had wished her in his blessing. It was some three days later that a long letter, signed by mother and daughter, was brought to Mary ; and then another day elapsed before Mary's reply arrived, saying simply, "Come." The Countess and Zellie went together to Penny Hall on a mild winter after- noon. It was on the day when Mayrose had fallen into his deep sleep, and his slumber had already lasted twelve hours when the carriage from Elmwood reached the hall. The names of the visitors were brought to Mary in the sick-room, where she had been sitting almost uninterruptedly since midnight, watching every sigh of her husband's breathing. She went down at once to the drawing-room, and mother and daughter both rose when she entered— so touching, yet so brave, with her little wan face, black dress, and forgiving eyes. Without a word she walked to Zellie and kissed her, then, as if this were not enough, she took her hands and pressed them, while Zellie hung on her neck. Then, with an attempt to smile, she embraced the countess. " My darling child, my daughter has something to say to you," whispered the countess tearfully. " I will leave you alone." " Yes, dear Lady Rosemary, let Azalea come with me," said Mary, and taking Zellie's hand like a sister's she led her out. With noiseless steps and bated breath, up a staircase and past two other chambers where death was lurking, and then Mary opened a door and signed to Zellie to enter. The room had been partially darkened, but the afternoon sunlight streaming 287 through the blind threvr a pale olearneM on the bed where Mayroie waa lyings Mitt aaleep. Zellie approache'l the bed and fell on her knees ; Mary sank beside her, Mid there they kneeled and prayed till at the supplications of these two women the Angel of Death went away. CHAPTER Xr. ATONEMENT. At about the tinio when Mayrose awoke, Grace Marvell began to revive. Tlie ripe fruit falls easily from the tr^e ; the green must be torn off. Grace's oonati- tution was strong, she was in the plenitude of youth, and she had shared with Mayrose the care of the great physician and the anxious tending of Mary. All the three sick rooms at Penny Hall were, indeed, occupying Mary turn about ; and if she lingered longest in her husband's, she had never suffered two hours to paM without going to superintend the professional nurses who were watching her father and Grace. The worthy little woman did not know how to give Christian pardon in chary doles ; she heaped it up in handfuls— good measure, pressed down and running over. So consciousness returned to Grace, then dim memory, then the knowledge that her beauty was gone, and that she would remain permanently disfigured. The preoccupation on this last point is generally the first that assails a woman who recovers from wounds or fever ; and personal charms play so great a part in the destinies of women that none can blame them for their concern, which does not proceed from mere vanity. But Grace's first thought was not for herself. As soon as she could summon back the brief, dreadful drama in which she had been struck down, she enquired in a faint, timid voice about Mayrose ; and when the physician had told her all that was good for her then to know, she turned away, and wept tears which assuredly blotted out her past life to the very last line. The next questions, after a day or two's almost silent interval, were about Prince Casino ; but she did not appear much astonished or grieved to hear that this noble character had flitted. The chance of regaining his freedom was one that he had not been able to withstand ; the more so as the newspaper exposure of his share in the Loan had led to depressing talk about expelling him from the Brum- mel, and in various other ways had mode our foggy metropolis too torrid to hold him. We may take leave here of this captivating foreigner by saying that he removed to Paris, and might have settled in that unprejudiced city had he not been routed out thereof by the father of the young lady at Clapham to whom he had promised marriage. Scared away like a gadfly oft' a daisy by this unpleasant parent, ho took wing to his own land, and may be there now for all we know, giving of his substance to adorn votive Madonnas, after the example of his eminent countryman Fra Diavolo. Prince Casino thus lost to her, Grace asked after Sir Ham, and learned that his life still compassed him like a shadow which might vanish at any moment. Then she betliought her of her own prospects, and one day, after a long night of sleep which had given her strength, she crawled out of bed when her nurse's back was turned and unhooked a hand mirror. One glance into it was enough. She guessed that the long deep scar which indented one side of her face would mark her to her grave, and that all chance of her being wooed again for her beauty was at an end. She did not sigh much. One would have thought that the recollection of the wealth she possessed made her careless of this disaster, but for some days she was absorbed, and it was evident that there was a question trembling on her lips, which she desired to ask, without knowing of whom to ask it. This ({uestion was whether Springfield had been sold, and she was enabled at length to ask it of Quilpin Leech. She had begun to mend rapidly then. Christmas was past, and on an afternoon when she was strong enough to walk from one room to another her maid arrayed her in an ample white cashmere peignoir ; and wrapped a black lace mantilla round her '^nHH 288 1& ■' head and face in ■noh wiie that her aoar was partially oonoealed. Then Oraoe went and lay on a lofa in her droMing-room, having the light behind her, and sent a mea* ■age to Leech, who stood beside her a few minutes afterwards. There was no sign on his quaint, earnest face, that he thought her a whit losa beautiful than before, or that ought of the many things he must have heard against her had made her seem lesM pure in his sight. All the world might rise to shake a love like his without moving it an inch. She saw this before he had opened his lips — by the mere look of inetfuble tenderness, respect, and compassion he bent on her, tind by the emotion which prevented his saying a word — until in low, repentant tones, and with tears, she began to accuse herself to him. Then he stopped her : — " SpringKeld is not sold," he said, quietly, as though he had hoard nothing else she said. " It takes time to dispose of such an estate as that, and Mr. Deedes raised money on it temporarily to pay Sir Ham's debts." " They are all paid V asked Grace, trying with lier wasted hand to dry her eyes. "All paid," answered Leech. "Then Springfield must not be sold, Mr. Leech. Here is the key of the bnreau in my boudoir downstairs . . . You will find some papers there tied with some pink tape. I want them burned, and . . . would you go to Lord Mayrose and say that . ." ". . . Those who imagined Sir Ham had made yoii his heiress were mis- taken — yes, dear Graoe," said J^ech, gently interrupting her as he bent over her hand to take the key. He went out of the room without appearing to notice that she pressed her hand- kerchief to her eyes and was sobbing, tie descended to the boudoir and burned a batch of parchment deeds without glancing at the writing outside them ; but also without taking his eyes off the fire imtil the flames had consumed the last trace of them. Then he went to see Mayrose. It was not altogether without misgiving that he went; for though he himself attributed all Qri>.ce'» errors to the influence of Prince Casino, he was aware that in other eyes Grace must seem to have had the chief hand in Mayrose's ruin ; and he was too fond of his cousin not to feel deeply for that ruin, which was total and crushing. In the first ardour of sacrifice, a man may be blinded to the magnitude of the things which he surrenders; but when after reflection comes, and a life begun in fortune and promise must be re-commenced with no certain prospect ahead, a man, though he may not regret his sacrifice, is yet apt to feel bitterly towards those who made it necessary. Leech knew this, and he feared to find Mayrose disposed to give Grace only such forgi^ eness as comes of pity and disdain — not that cordial pardon which clothes Repentance anew in hope and self-respect. But he need not have feared, for Mayrose was in that soft languor of convales- cence, when the future, however cheerless, seems bright. Returning, too, from a voyage to the confines of the other world, the soul looks with indifference on the petty wrongs of this life. It is something to have stood on the brink of eternity. If the glimpse had been only that of an instant, the mind must ever afterwards be fixed on the dimly perceived vision, and a chastened indulgence accrues to tJl who are our fellow-wayfarers in this earthly pilgrimage, which lasts so little and ends in a life so long. So Leech went to rejoin his cousin, and it so happened that on that day May- rose, like Grace, had felt strong enough to move into his sitting-room. Propped up by pillows, and with his shaven head still bandaged, he sat opposite a warm fire, and Mary had sorted on the table neai- him all the letters of inquiry and condo- lence received during his illness. Telegrams from the Queen, daily notes from Mr. Paramount and other Ministers, frequent cards from Lord Homette, and countless epistles from people, many of whom were unknown to him, and some whom he had thoufjlit inimical. There were eulogistic newspaper articles too, verses from well- meaning find anonymous poets (one had gone the length of contributing an epitaph in the belief of a fatal climax), and a voluminous correspondence from divers of those charitable souls who, whenever any personage of distinction falls ill, write up 289 Iraoe went mt a mea- whit loM rd AgatBit a shako a pened his ) bent on repentant od her ; — 1 nothing T. Deedea o dry her )y of the there tied ) to Lord were mis- over her her hand- burned a ; but also it trace of iie himself re that in 1 ; and he total and lagnitude ind a life prospect bitterly . to find d disdain f-respeot. convales* >, from a 9 on the eternity. (vards be till who ends in ly May- iPropped p.rm fire, condo- j-om Mr. lountless he had km well- I epitaph livers of 7nte up from all the far-ofr nooks in the kingdom to prescribe specifioH. Sitting on A ilopl at her huHband'ti foet, Manr reai> buried her face in ht-r husband's hands, feeling perliaps for the tiiat time the., .hat she and her husband wore now indeed wedded in those bonds whicb .oteven death can break. A knock at the door roused Marj from her recumbent attitude, and broke the reverie J)f emoti< • into which Mayrose had glided. It was Leech who entrred. " Welcome," said Mayrose.. with an affectionate smile. " You are not de trop at this family council, for I was about to confer with Mary as to what I should do with my time when I was up and stirrini; again." "Do what is most congenial to you, for you can afford to choose," answered Leech in a serious tone, and with rather a wistful look. " I have come to say that people are in error who suppose that Miss Marvell is Sir Ham's heiress. Sir Ham's estates are all in hia possession, and will devolve on Lady Mayrose." Mayrose glanced at his cousin ; Mary, who httd turned away to conceal that her eyes were red, looked round too, and there was a moment's silence. Leech's face assumed a supplicating air, and Mayrose understood that he chose this delicate manner of making restitution both for his — Mayrose's— own sake, and to avoid de- grading Grace by an avowal of the shame which prompted her atonement. "Do you mean that the Penny estates are still my father-in-law's own?" ho said, quietly. " Yes, with a considerable sum in stocks," replied Leech. " But Miss Marvell — is she quite unprovided for ?" " She will not be unprovided for long, I trust," answered Leech, " I am here in her name now, Mayrose, to ask you for her forgiveness. I have not inquired, and shall never inquire, what has been the nature of her offence towards you; I bring you her message as she sent it, and endorse it with a prayer of my own." *' How can Grace doubt that we have freely forgiven and forgotten everything after all that has happened ?" interposed Mary, after a glance into her husband's eyes. " Mary is right," said Mayrose, pressing his wife's hands. " Tell Miss Marvell, Leech, that I have no reason to feel unkindly to her, for she rendered me a service of which I am only just beginning to be aware. Mary shall go up with yon to say this, and as much more as may pei'suade Miss Marvell that we both wish her well." *' I did not expect less of you," answer Leech, a little unmanned. " And I thank you in my own name, for I hope that Miss Marvell will consent now to become my wife." 19 290 CHAPTER XII. IK UaTREMIS. So Mayrnse was rich again ; for the fortune which Grac i restored amounted to almost i"25,()Oi) a j'ear, far more than enough to prevent the necessity of selhng Springfield, and to leave Mayrose an income of nearly j£'2U,()0(). It v ")uld have been useless to attempt refusing any part of this restitution, lor Quilpin Leech would have been hurt, nor would he have suffered a compromise. lie had now the right to direct Grace. She agi-eod — not without hesitation, for his own sake — to reward his constant love ; and just before the Para:nount Ministry resigned. Leech surrendered his appointment at home for an equivalent post in the colonies. After a private mamage, at which Mayrose gave away the bride, they left England to- gether, and there was no cause to dread that Grace would not prove a good wife — for women are what their husbands make them, and men should treat indulgently the errors they commit as girls in remembering how humbly and saintedly they often atone as mothers. But before Grace and her husband sailed, Mayrose had been restored to health, and friends flocked round him again ; not less numerous, perhaps, from hearing that his pecuniary fortunes had somehow been retrieved. One would be doing an injustice to the tenacity of genuine character as resolute in hatred as it is in love, by pretending that the " Boudoir Cabal" disarmed their enmity. Neither Violet Chevychase nor Lady Coralmere (whose husband's death was now confidently fixed to take place next spring, without further adjournment, as tlio playbills say), nor any of the Ladies Midge, ever forgave Mayrose. Lady Canonlaugh also continued to rail piously against him, instancing his prosperous circumstances as a proof that his alleged sacrifice had been absurdly over-vaunted. But how should we feel the price of friendship if we were left without enemies ! Tlie hostility of the Cuballers was more than compensated to Mayrose by his reconciliation with Lord Ilornette, who came on purpose to Penny Hall to shake hands with him. There was such a fibre of manly rectitude in this stiff Earl that Mayrose's heart warmed towards him, so that ho wished Zellie and the Earl might both be brought to overlook bygones and at last be united. Possibly Lord Hornette heartily wished this too, for he was not a man to re- collect with rancour the hurt that Zellie had tried to do him in a moment of aber- ration ; and possibly we ourselves might have wished to conclude this story with a record of Zellie's betrothal. But Zellie's was a nat':re that does not forget, one which finds indeed as much happiness as sorrow in remembrance. To all outward seeming she appeared to recover her serenity ; but there was a quiet reflectiveness in her manner wliich proved that her life as animated more l)y thoughts %vithin than by concerns without ; and one day f' e started her placid father by entiuiring when she should be of age to make ' will. Lord Rosomarj^ had just given up his Seals then to his successor in the new Paradyse Cabinet, and he was somewhat at a loss as to what he should do with his leisure, so that he found he could devote a few minutes to puzzling out his daugh- ter's meaning. " Why, bless my soul, Zellie, what can have put such ideas into your head ?" he said. " I only wanted to know whether I should ever have property of my own," answered ZeUie, with a sm''e that removed all mournful significance from her words. '• "Why, my dear, you will of course have the same portion as j'our sister when you marry," rejoined the Eavl. •'And if I never marry ?" " Why shouldn't you marry ? Of course you'll marry. But if you didn't — why — h'm — I woiild give you tlie portion as soon ar yon liked, Zell, and when I die you will have half the estates — about £'20,0()i) a year, missy." " I think T should like to have some property of my own, really my own, "said Zellie coaxingly, as she stood behind her father's chair and fondled him, l should taoiinted to f of selliiiR ^i niid have lilpin Leech uicl now the n\ sake — to ;iied, Leech nies. After England to- irood wife — indulgently intedly they ed to health, ■om hearing be doing an t is in love, either Violet idently fixed lla say), nor w continued a proof that we feel the he Caballers d Ilornette, ! was such a towards him, ook bygones man to re- lent of aber- story with a it forget, one all outward otloctivencss lights within iy eiKluiring in the new do with his his daugh- ('oiir head ?" )f my own," ice from her sister when ,'ou didn't — d when I die lyown," said 1 should \ 291 liku to have enough to put into a will, and leave to others whun I am a very old woman, papa." " Lord Rosemary perhaps hardly entered into the spirit of this wish ; b«^ Ijil^*''*^'! cannot be doubted that Zellie received the assurance that she would be endovad* 1^' with enough to put into a will, and it need not he speculated as to who was tlfe person she proposed making her heir. We may anticipate so far as to «ay tlilkt ' when Mary, consoled and refreshed after all her troubles brought a little son into ' the world, it was hor own wish that Zellie should stand godmother to it, and irofOi that day Zellie looked into Mary's eyes and into Mayrose's without quailing — tm- derly and simply like a sister. She was one of those women, who morally renovated by a great heart-trial, frequently live to a great age, to become the providence of other households. They attach themselves to charity, and to the kindlier, more graceful forms of well-doing which the world does not call charity ; but be their occupations and their age at death what they may, it may be said of them, vrbftii they are finally gone that they have led the lives of vestals, eternally cherishing'' «, fire not to bo extinguished. Such was Zellie's case. And now we may return to Sir Ham. The poor knight lingered on for weeks, clinging to life with that strange ten- acity often to be found in those who have nothing to live for. It was evident from the first that ho would never more rise from his bed ; but Mayrose was quite curdd, and Grace had many days since given her promise to Quilpin Leech, when at |Mt it became unniistakeable that the old knight had received his summons. Mary had been sitting by his bedside all day, when towards evening her father turned towards her, and tried to sit up. He was terribly aged by his malady. His hair, undyed now, had become quite white, and his once round features had thinned out of all recognition. Seeing him trying to riae, Mary stood up, and propped him with pillows ; then hearing the ominous rattle in his throat which she had been warned to look upon as the token of approaching death, she hastily rang, and or- dered the servants to sumuKin Mayrose. Mayrose hurried at once, and foimd Mary sujiporting her father with her arm, while the dying man atitred intently, and seemed to struggle for speech. His mind appeared gradually U» clear at last, as it often does in the final stage of paralysis, and suddenly he stammered : " It's you, Mary, dear. Where's Jane T' " Mamma is not here now, papa dear," faltered Mary. Try and lie back and rest. Are you in pain ?" " I'd like to see Jane," murmured the old knight. " Jane was my wife, and it's she who stood by me — when we was — both young, and set up in business." He plucked at his counterpane for a moment mechanically and repeatedly ; then. with a voice gi-owing more indistinct " Who's that man, Mary, and why do he kneel down ? I thhik I remember L'm, though. Wasn't you married, child, to some one of the quality ?" " Yes, papa," said Marj' ; " don't j'ou kiiow him again ? Its Frederick — my husband." " Frederick — yes. My head throl)s le.^s now than it did 'afore, child. Ay, I see things now ; and it seems to me Jane's gone — isn't she dead, Mary ? I recol- lect a night in Lunnun when they brought her in and laid her on a sofa — I don't think I ever seed her since." * ■■'■ * He was speaking faster u.av, but lii« incoherence subsided by degrees as though one by one the events of his life were being arrayed before him in a parting and plainly seen virion. After some minutes he reco 'lized ]\Iayrose, and addressed him by name, then made a sign that he wished to feel ^lary's hand. A moment's silence ensued after this, and the rattle was the only tiling audible in the stillness of the room, and then witlunit preface, and with a light in his eyes which left no doubt that consciousness had returned, the dying knight faltered : — " I've made a power of money, my dear ; but there's other things beside tliat to live for. I don't know as I was ever the happier for it. And I think I'm going now. Jane's awaiting for me." 4 ■»»■ 29S *♦ , Sir Ham Bank back and his lips moved for a minute longer. ^|taK^ round him and sobbed on his breast. Mary threw hor >.i r^ " Oh, papa, will you pray that we may all meet again. in heaven ?" ^ •' . " Yes, ' murmured the dying knight, with a faint sigh 1 " and good '11 come ,m!^ CONCLUSION. Our tale is ended here ; but perhaps the reader who has followed ns bo far will for a moral. We briefly give tJiis one : — Everyone who has stood at the foot of an eminence and compared the rugged pa|li at his feet witli tlie smooth look of the peak rising almost to the sky, has for- ^(ten maybe that the peak is rugged too for those who stand at the siimmit. So it is in life. For those in lower stations the lot of those above them seems exempt froiu cares and enviable. Every class forgets the flints and steeps of that superior to it ; till we get to the highest-class station of all, where men having wealth, name and rank as Lord Mayrose had, nevertheless are apt to find the way of their lives hard enough. But hard only in a manner to them as to otliers, for we have seen that diffi- cmllies are surmounted by the application of a little energy which is at the com- maaid of the lowly as well as the high, and which assuredly brings its reward. Nevertheless, it is something to have struggled and prevailed ; to have come thiPough temptation unhurt and undiminished. The smallest vvind blows down so m^iny saplings that we may afford admiration for the strong oak which has weath- ered the gale of a night, and lifts its head proudly to the sunlight of a new morning. THE EJiX), ■'^ .\ r threw hor od '11 come 1 80 far will the rugged cy, has for- mmit. So ms exempt at BUperior ialth, uame their lives I that diffi- t the com' ts reward, lave come '•8 down so lias weath' V morning. .