UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES THE BEOOKES OF B R I D L E :\I E R E UY G. J. WIIYTE MELVILLE. ArrilOU OF "TUB GLADIATOR.*," " DIT.Br GRA>T," "THE KTERPRETEB," "nOLMBY HOCSE," "THE ViCEKN'S MAttlES," tTC. 7.V TUIiEE VOLUMES. VOL. L ;-^t! - ''\i,iFO^'t ivj A > LONDON: CHiPMAN AND HALL, 193 PICCADILLY. 1864. [77i« right ofTranAalion is reserved.'] c. « t - c • LONDON : rnrXTED BY WnXIAM CLOWES AND SO-NS, STAMFORD .^TRF.KT AND CHAKING CROSS. CONTENTS OF VOL. I. -K>*- CIIAPTEli I. PAGE TWILIGHT 1 CHAPTER II. COUNTRY QUAKTERS 2G CHAPTER in. THE BROOKES .57 CHAPTER lY. STONEY BROTHERS 92 CHAPTER Y. TOLLESDALE 121 CHAPTER YI. JACK BROOKE 150 CHAPTER VII. A dragon's TOOTH . . . . . . .180 CHAPTER VIII. MARKET-DAY 204 CHAPTER IX. " UNCLE ARCHIE " 234 CHAPTER X. THE MIDDLESWORTH BALL ...... 263 THE BROOKES OF BPJDLEMERE. CHAPTER I. TWILIGHT. T'S hard lines, Mas'r Philip — hard lines ! That's where it is, for a chap as is able and willin', and carn't get work for five weeks now come Toosday. The jobs is scarce, ye see; with the days shortening, and winter coming on, and what-not ; but I dun-know how to better it, bless ye, not I, cut it whicii way you will." Jem Batters having thus relieved his mind in the vernacular, turned to his companion a face of injured honesty and simplicity, scarcely in keeping Mdth the general character of his appearance. A much-worn velveteen jacket, loose cord breeches, sturdy calves, and heavy ankle-boots, seemed the VOL. I. B 2 THE BROOKES OF BEIDLEMERE. natural appendages of a countryman who was supposed to be as arrant a poacher as ever set a night-line in a reservoir, or a snare in a smeuse. Nor did Jem's countenance in any way redeem the rest of his person from the imputations under which it laboured. The featm'es were good, but pale, though weatherbeaten ; and the eyes, small and cunning, looked bold, without being frank. A Ted handkerchief, knotted loosely round his neck, denoted pursuits somewhat without the pale of honest labour, though as yet on the safe side of the county gaol. Altogether he seemed a slang, knowing, able-bodied, unscrupulous sort of person — such an one as a man had rather breakfast with than fight, nor care indeed to share his morning repast, unless there was enough prepared for three. But " Mas'r Phil," properly called Mr. Philip Stoney, did not form his opinion from externals, and indeed was accustomed to look deeper below the surface than most people. On the present occasion he took notice of the blood from a dead rabbit oozing through the pocket of Jem Batters's velveteen, and scrupled not to express his senti- ments on the subject. TWILIGHT. 3 " You'll do no good Avithout being strictly honest, Jem. I've told you so many a time. You've no more right to that rabbit in your pocket than you have to take the gun out of my hand, and spout it at the first pawnbroker's shop you come to in the High Street of ]\Iiddlesworth. You were paid to beat ; and if you've done your day's work, you've got your day's wages. What business have you with the Squire's property, if it was only the worth of a halfpenny ?" " The Squire'll never miss it," replied Jem, with a sheepish expression of countenance, and a forced smile that did not improve his beauty. He looked askance at Philip Stoney while he spoke, like a dog who knows he has done wrong, and deprecates the anger of his master. The latter answered, in a sterner tone — " The Squire wouldn't miss it, if you took five shillings oft' his chimney-piece ; but the law would send you to prison and hard labom-, all the same ; and serve you right! Poaching is but stealing out of doors, Jem. You ought to know that as well as I do. I tell you, I wouldn't trust a poacher any more than I would a housebreaker ur a thief." b2 4 THE BEOOKES OF BRIDLEMEEE. But Jem could not see the matter exactly in this light. It is doubtful if he ever admitted to himself he was committing a crime when he picked up a hare for supper on " a shiny night," though he had a vague idea that it was not quite a 'respectable action ; and indeed, if he knew liis own interest, was better let alone. " It's hard, too, Mas'r Philip," said he, pluck- ing a dry twig from the adjoining hedge, and munching it with apparent relish. " But you've been a good friend to me, and mother too, how- ever ; and I take notice of what you says more nor I do of parson, nor Squire neither. You couldn't give a poor chap a job, could you, Mas'r Pliil ?" added Jem, in his most insinuating tones, and without removing the twig from his mouth. " I'll tell you what it is, Jem," replied the other, putting his hand at the same time into his pocket, " I've known you a long time, and I'U see if I can give you one more chance yet. Look ye here. You take that rabbit back to old Half- cock, the keeper. Promise now, and come down to our place the first thing to-morrow morning. I'll speak to my brother to-night about you. But it's your last chance, Jem — mind that. We don't Hi- TWILIGHT. keep dogs that won't bark in our shop ; and if a man isn't honest, and sober too, he'd better not come at all, for we shall be sure to find him out, and turn him adrift, without thinking twice about it. Good-night, Jem. Take the rabbit back before you go home, and don't be late to-morrow, for it's market-day, and we shall be pretty busy before twelve o'clock." So the two parted on their respective paths, Philip Stoney stepping briskly out on his home- ward way, and Jem Batters compromising the matter of the rabbit by laying it down in the comer of a copse where it was pretty sure to be found by the keeper when he came round with a retriever to pick up lost game next morning. There had been a battue at Bridlemere that day — not one of your pounding, slaughtering, can- nonading attacks, resembling a general action in all but the small proportion of those who run away ; when, to enjoy the sport — if such it can be called — dandies come down from London, with all the modem improvements in dress, arms, and accoutrements, for the express purpose of learning how often they can pull their triggers within a given number of hours. If they shoot straight, 6 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. and obtain an enormous bag, so much the better : but the great thing is to let the gun off at the utmost possible rate of rapidity and repetition. \^T2en the colonel is sent forward with one breech- loader in his hand, and two more carried by his attendants (six barrels in all), so that he can never be for an instant unprepared; when my lord, with his legs very wide apart, stands like a colos- sus in the ride, and whUe "Slides the bird o'er lustrous woodland," misses rocketer after rocketer, with increasing im- patience and disgust ; wlien gentlemen's gentle- men, sighing for the warmth of the castle, and the luxuries of " the room," load for their masters with a gracious carelessness, not always quite safe for the sj)ortsman, but assumed by the valet as if he were performing the mere every-day duties of the toilet ; when the duke, at close of day, apolo- gizes to his guests for the badness of the sport, and condoles with them that they have only averaged some two hundred head per gim ! No ; the hattue at Bridlemere was nothing of this sort, but a cozy little affair of eighty cock-pheasants, and twice that number of hares and rabbits TWILIGHT. / equally enoiigli distributed amongst half a dozen people, who shot well and fairly, without more jealousy tlian was desirable in order that eacli man should do his best. There was a pretty range of eopsewood, skirting a warm and sheltered dingle, to shoot iu the forenoon ; a capital lun- cheon, with strong home-brewed, at two o'clock ; and a good deal of sport afterwards in the fox- covert, which afforded, iu addition to a woodcock, the cheering sight of a brace of the wild and wily animals, to the preservation of which it was specially devoted. Old Halfcock never trapped a fox in his life, though, Avith the perverse instinct of a gamekeeper, he would have been only too glad of the chance, for well he knew that such an offence against the Squire's standing orders would be his first and last. So Bridlemere offered a sure find nearly once a fortniglit in open weather ; and though the Squu'e was wont to complain with sufficient pride that the Duke was veri/ hard upmi it, two or three of the best runs in the season owed their celebrity to that time-honoured locality. Game and foxes are a contradiction that has long since ceased to be an impossibility ; and there was, without doubt, a fair show of both at Bridlemere. 8 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMEEE. Philip Stoney, walking home to JMiddlesworth, reflected pleasantly enough on his day's amuse- ment, and the skill he had displayed both in and out of covert, at flesh and fowl, fur and feather, ground game and winged. Phil was an English- man all over — a pure-bred Anglo-Saxon as ever stopped a cricket-ball in flannels, or handled a Purdey in velveteen. He was no admirable Crichton, like the hero of a novel, who -must needs be strong as Hercules, beautiful as Apollo, brave and swift as the son of Peleus, alternately sulking in his tent, and vapouring over his com- rades on the narrow strip of sand where the god- like heroes of the " Iliad " laid their ten-years' leaguer round the walls of Troy. No; he was but a fair representative of the thousands of Englishmen who constitute the upper and middle classes of our happy country. For his bodily gifts, he could walk, run, leap, skate, and swim as well as his neighbours, though truth compels me to admit that he knew not a note of music, and was an execrable dancer. He could stand up fairly enough to professional bowling, when the ground was smooth ; shoot straight, either in the coppice or on the stubble, when not too much « ■ TWILIGHT. 9 hurried ; and would ride a good horse, in a good place, with a pack of fox-hounds, even at the expense of an occasional fall. His mental qualities and acquirements were rather sound than brilliant. Latin and Greek he had learned, and forgotten. Of histoiy, both ancient and modern, he was not more ignorant than other people. Science he might have dabbled in, could he have spared the time. He had a clear head for business, was a capital accountant, and spoke French, the only continental language he attempted, as Talleyrand said the Great Duke did, " bravely." For his tastes, he so far agreed with Byron, that " He loved our taxes, when they're not too many ; He loved a sea-coal fire, when not too dear ; He loved a beef-steak too, as well as any ; Had no objection to a pot of beer ." Was a little inclined to Liberalism in politics, and intolerance in religion; believed TJie Times, shaved scrupulously, drank port wine, and hated a lie. Without being handsome, he had a clear, fresh complexion, and a small well-shajDcd head, on which the bro\vn locks were cropped short and close. His teeth were good, and he showed them 10 THE FlROOKES of BEIDLEMERE. all when he spoke. His eyes light, but looking straight into your own, witli a frank and fearless expression that inspired confidence in his sincerity at once. All this, carried by a square, able-bodied figure, very quick and energetic in its gestures, offered an exterior rather pleasing than otherwise ; and as well-known in the streets of Middlesworth as the late-erected drinking-fountain or tlie old church clock. He stepped along more briskly, as evening began to close, and the town lights twinkled out more and more numerous through the hazy twilight, yet lingering round some dull crimson streaks on the horizon left by the departed sun. It was a soft, still November evening, such as is never experienced out of England, and shows our English climate and our English scenery to the greatest advantage. Everywhere else in Europe a fine winter's day means a dazzling sun and a piercing cold, that if you only took your wraps off, would finish you in about ten minutes; but in our own little island, which we abuse so heartily amongst ourselves, it means a green and grateful earth ; a sky of dappled clouds, serene and motion- less, edged here and there with gold ; a sleeping TWILIGHT. 11 fragrance and vitality only waiting for the spring ; and a mild, hazy atmosphere, through which trees, and hills, and hedges loom out, grave and ghostly, and indistinct. Philip felt in charity with all njankind, and more than usually grateful to Pro- vidence for the many advantages of liis position, the many pleasures of health and strength, and everyday life — nay, for the harmless amusement and enjoyment of the hours he had just spent at Bridlemere. Behind him was the recollection of a delightful day's shooting, in which he had borne a skilful and satisfactory part ; the pleasant inter- change of good fellowship with those of his own age, nowhere so frankly afforded as in manly out- of-doors recreation, and which furnishes one of the strongest rational arguments in favour of field- sports ; a conviction that he was esteemed, cer- tainly not for his station, or such fictitious advan- tages, but for himself ; and a pleasant conscious- ness that he was not an idle man, like most of those witli whom ho had spent the day, but a working bee, for whom business was business, and pleasure, pleasure — an arrangement which en- hances extremely the satisfaction of both, and which the drones, who eat the honey without the 12 THE BKOOKES OF BKIDLEMERE. labour of making it, never can be brouglit to understand. Around him were already stretching the level town meadows, grass at three pounds an acre, smooth and springy as a garden lawn, feeding huge beeves, that scarcely moved in their early beds by the foot-path, save to raise great handsome wide- horned heads, and stare lazily at him as he passed — a movement, nevertheless, suflficiently terrifying to the only other passenger across the town-lands, a little girl pattering home to "mother" from a half-mile errand, who kept close behind Philip, for convoy through this alarming region. Presently he sees the white indistinct lines of the drying grounds in the suburbs, and "mother" herself, with soapy arms, and pinned-up skirts, talring in fluttering garments from the clothes- line ; and now immediately before him, so to speak, is the anticipation of warmth, and fire-light, and dinner, and rest, in his own comfortable home on the other side of the town. He is a ]\Iiddles- worth man, and is proud of it, firmly believing that for liealth, beauty, convenience, pubHc buildings, and private society, everything but " business" — of which he could wish it afforded a little more — his TWILIGHT. 13 town would bear comparison with any city on the face of the earth. Everybody might not, perhaps, agree with Philip Stoney in this favourable estimate. Mr. Dowlas, the draper, who set up here when he retired from r Loudon, having failed there twice, once in Wig- more Street, and once in the Tottenliam Court Road, considers it " a poor place altogether, sir ; a place in which a young man finds no opening ; a place quite behind the times ;" and a smart, black- bearded Italian, generally regarded by the inhabi- tants as a conspirator, with horrible designs against the French Emperor, to be prosecuted in some mysterious manner, from a confectioner's shop in the market-place, left it after a month's trial, in a fit of somewhat unreasonable disgust, because there was no opera. Nevertheless, the population in general are extremely patriotic, and however much they may squabble amongst themselves, rise like one man to vindicate the honour and glory, and general respectability of their town. As Middlesworth, however, may not be quite so well known to the general public as to its own inhabitants, and the nobility and gentry of the shire, who frequent its shops on market-day, and 14 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. fin its judicial buildings at Quarter Sessions, Assizes, and such other important gatherings of landed proprietors — as, moreover, the simple story I have to tell is chiefly connected with this locality and its immediate neighbourhood, I may be per- mitted to pause on the very threshold of my narrative, for the purpose of affording the reader some vague idea of the general features and character of the place. To a certain extent, and from a metropolitan point of view, particularly as regards facilities for borrowing money, discounting bills, and robbing the British pubhc, Mr. Dowlas is right. Middles- worth is far "behind the times," when compared with London, Liverpool, Manchester, and such large, pof)ulous, and speculative cities ; but money, nevertheless, is to be made in its quiet streets, by honest enterprise ; and many an active, industrious tradesman has realized a comfortable competence in its marts, and retired in the prime of life to enjoy the fruits of his success in its suburbs. These outskhts are consequently well supplied with the peculiar style of house which, when isolated by twenty feet or so from its neighbours, is dignified by the title of " a villa," but of which half-a-dozen TWILIGHT. 15 constitute " a terrace," and twice that number "a place." Plate-glass and laburnums are the specialities of these residences ; and save for the consideration that all the rooms are in front, and commanded from the public road, they would seem to be commodious and comfortable dwellings enough. But if the suburbs of Middlesworth thus run to retirement and gentility, the streets and lanes, and rows, within the actual precincts of the town, affect no such attempts at refinement or ostentation. They have no pretension to sink the trade by which they thi-ive. Bow-windowed shops, espe- cially for the sale of butchers'-meat, protrude them- selves boldly on the pavement, which is, however, in many places wide enough to admit of two male passengers walking abreast. Stalls, whereon are exposed most commodities of daily life, form an outwork to this footway, projecting far into the street. Any intervals that might otherwise be left unguarded, ai-e filled with hand-barrows, empty casks, and articles of ornamental husbandry, such as iron-work, ploughs, many-teethed harrows, or patent dibbling machines, so that the width of the thoroughfare may be contracted to the scantiest 16 THE BROOKES OF BKIDLEMERE. limits. A cattle-market, too, is held weekly in the narrowest of the streets, and as the town is paved throughout with the smoothest and most slippery of stones, it may be imagined that a ride or drive through Middlesworth, on any special occasion, is a progress not entirely devoid of that excitement which springs from a sense of personal fear. The shops, however, are cheap and good of their kind. The staple manufacture of the to^n being muffatees, it is needless to observe that these are not to be procured for love or money, of decent quality, owing, perhaps, to the brisk export trade driven with the South Sea Islanders for this indispensable article of costume; but all other necessaries, and most luxm-ies of life, are found in IMiddlesworth, of as good quality as in London, and at little more than cost price. Two branch railways connect this flourishing town with two great arteries of English traffic, rendering its communications with other places as facile as is compatible with the inconvenience of its local arrangements, trains being scarce during the day, but redundant before light in the morning and after dark at night. It has, besides, a race- TWILIGHT. 17 course, a corn exchange, a homceopatbic dispen- sary, a hospital, three churches, of which the oldest is, of course, the handsomest, and a nondescript building for the administration of justice, present- ing a happy combination of several distinct orders of architecture, including the Chinese, with twisted pillars, parti-coloured porches, and an Oriental roof, the whole wrought out in brickwork and stucco, the colour of strawberries and cream. There are days of bustle and confusion at Mid- dlesworth, but there are also days of peace and somnolent quiet, verging on stagnation. Once a year, when Tattersall's pours its subscribers into the grand stand on its race-course, for the great Middlesworth Handicap ; once a week, when the adjacent villages send their rustic inhabitants to market in its overflowing streets, and their carriers' carts, to increase the profits of its public-houses and beer-shops, a stranger would imagine that he had arrived at the very emporium of speculation and commerce ; but let liim stay over the night at the Plantagenet Arms, or elsewhere, and sally forth after his coffee-room breakfast next day. Lo! the spell is broken ; the hive, lately so busy and populous, is hushed and lonely now ; the shops are VOL. I. c 18 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMEEE. empty, the streets deserted ; save the church clock lazily chiming the quarters, not a sound disturbs the drowsy air, and ]\Iiddlesworth seems to stand solemn, silent, and untenanted, as Palmyra, the City of the Dead. Philip Stoney had lived in the town all his life, had been to a day-school in its High Street, and played in its cricket matches (3Iiddlesworth against Mudbury), ever since he was old enough to wield a bat or stop a ball. Except for a couple of years spent in London, to give him an insight into business, and a few months at Manchester with a flourishing cousin, who proposed to put the extra polish of a commercial education on him in his counting-house, and certainly did take him to half- a-dozen balls and dinner-parties every week, he had never quitted his own home for more than a few days at a time. No wonder he looked affec- tionately on every nook and corner of the quaint old place; no wonder he felt interested in the ]\Iayor's improvements, and the Town Council's edicts, and all the petty details of the circle in which he lived, including the little squabbles and heart-burnings of the municipality, a body no less distinguished for diversity of opinion, than for the TWILIGHT. 19 frequency and excellence of the dinners at which it was their official privilege to meet. Many a time had Philip watched the lights of MidcUesworth as he neared them at even-tide, and felt he was really going home. After a jaunt for business or pleasure into the adjoining counties ; after a day with the Duke's hounds, on a certain blemished old chestnut horse, by which he set great store, and justly, inasmuch as his grace's own stable could not produce a better hunter, and the animal, notwithstanding its lean old head, and a pair of very worn looking fore-legs, afforded Philip many a delightful gallop in a recreation both of them enjoyed above all others. After a few hours' good shooting as to-day in winter, or after a pic-nic in summer, with a bevy of IMiddlesworth young ladies, damsels of fascinating manners, though somewhat gusldng, and rejoicing in sumptuous apparel, such as dazzles, while it subdues ; but the advantage of whose society, I fear, Philip did hardly appreciate, being indeed less susceptible to the* florid order of beauty, than to the chaste, and classical, and severe. After any and all of these excursions, I repeat, it was his nature to return to Middlesworth as the bird returns to its nest ; nay, c2 20 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. with even a more eager alacrity, for tbe bird, we know, goes out to feed, whereas the unfoathered biped comes home for that important ceremony. To be young, to be hungry, to be able to walk five miles an hour, heel and toe, these are advantages of which men are scarcely conscious, yet of which they make good use wlule they possess them. It was Philip's habit to hurry home as if he were very hungry indeed, which perhaps was generally the case. To-night, however, his pace was variable and ill-sustained. Sometimes he strode on rapidly, at a rate that forced his little follower to break into a short jerking trot ; sometimes he relapsed moodily into a thoughtful crawl, denoting the absorbing influence of profound reflection, and once he halted so suddenly, that his unprepared convoy ran fairly between his legs. But Philip was undistm-bed by this, as by every other external influence of the moment. Habitual day-dreamers, like habitual drunkards, preserve at their worst an inner con- sciousness that enables them to shake ofi*, with a temporary efibrt, the effects of their favourite indulgence ; but a practical, wide-awake intellect, steeped in a fit of abstraction, hke a sober man « TWILIGHT. 21 who has chanced for once to get drunk, loses all power of observation, and abandons all attempt at self-consciousness or self-control. The child's excuse of " Please, sir, mother said as I must be liome afore dark," was quite lost upon him, though repeated more than once, nor did he miss the little footsteps when they pattered joyfully away in front at the welcome sight of "mother" in the drying- ground. His thoughts must have been very far from Middlesworth and its outskirts, to judge from his pre-occupatiou. His manner was not that of a man who is thinking of his dinner, the subject to which human reflection naturally points about this hour of the day, and when he reached the bridge that spans a sluggish river meandering round the outskirts of the to^\^l, he seemed to have abandoned all idea of that necessary re- freshment, for he stood still when half-way across, and looked dreamily over the parapet into the quiet stream. It was nearly dark now. A star or two strug- gled faintly through the thin misty clouds that were stealing over the heavens from the south. The light breeze, though damp, was soft and plea- sant to his cheek, fanning him ^vith quiet breath 22 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. ere it passed on to stir the rustling sedges by the river-side, and mingle their murmurs with the drowsy lap of the water against its low, level banks. The town was close at hand, with its hum of voices and continuous tread of men ; but Philip seemed no more aware of its vicinity than if he had been in the middle of the Great Desert. The river was beneath his feet, stealing on to the sea slowly, insensibly, surely, as time steals on to eternity; but he thouglit not of the river nor the sea, nor indeed, in the common ac- ceptation of the words, of time nor of eternity neither. Dim though they were, the two or three stars visible seemed to have more attraction for him than any other material objects, and he indulged in a good long stare at these celestial bodies, apparently deriving a certain rehef and gratifica- tion from the process. It was a strange occupa- tion for a man of Mr. Stoney's character and habits ; so near dinner-time, too, and after a day's shooting at Bridlemere. Mankind, I believe, after all, are very much alike. We differ, it is true, in our external ap- TWILIGHT. Zo pearance, our faces, figures, complexions, man- ners, and various styles of ugliness ; but I make little doubt tliat the formation of each one's heart, liver, and digestive process is upon the same pat- tern, and indeed almost identical. On a like piynciple, the springs that set the outer man in motion, the feelings, affections, v.-eaknesses, and prejudices of one specimen are common to all humanity. Were it not so, where would be the- advantage of studying human nature, of acquiring that knowledge which, L'ke the science of medi- cine, is based on tlio assumption that all interiors are alike ? You look at an old gentleman dozing over his wine by the fii-e-side, bald, portly, and double-chinned, infirm upon his pins, and spread into a goodly bulk below the girdle. It is hard to believe that this is the same man who led the forlorn hope at Mullagatawny, and w^on tlie light- weight steeple-chase at Ballinasloe, besides taking all hearts captive in Dublin by the agility of his dancing and the symmetry of his figure, the year the potatoes were so plentiful, and the Viceroy's balls so well attended. Or you watch a venerable dame, with a Mother Shipton nose and chin, a shrill, shaking voice, false teeth, false hair, and a 24 THE BEOOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. complexion of brickdust and whitewash, wonder- ing the while how this can be the lady who refused dukes and marquises, and made a run- away match for love with a clerk in the Foreign Office, temporarily breaking the heart of the old gentlemen aforesaid in that ill-advised perform- ance. Perhaps you speculate on the possibility of renewing the flash in the man's spirit, or the capability for indiscretion in the woman's heart : perhaps you arrive at the conclusion that neither ever really grow old, that the sacred fire is never thoroughly quenched in the' immortal sub- ject, but, though damped and smothered for the present, will assm-edly flicker up again at some future period, bright and consuming as of vore. Old and young, men and women, wise and simple, rich and poor, for each and all there is a combustible principle somewhere beneath the clay — a wild drop in the blood, a crevice in the plate armour, a soft spot in the heart. Phihp Stoney was of the same material as his fellow-creatures, and perhaps, on emergency, not a bit wiser or stronger than the rest. Neverthe- less, he made no long stay upon the bridge, but *, • ' TWILIGHT. 25 after a good stare at the stars, sighed gently, and walked on with rapid step and head erect, like a man who, looking far into the future, has made up his mind to follow out what he sees there, resolutely and without fear. CHAPTER II. COUNTRY QUARTERS. OT^VITHSTANDING its many weak- nesses and shortcomings, its unworthy subterfuges under pressure, and ob- vious want of confidence on the eve of a division, even the Opposition papers could not but admit that Government showed sound dis- cretion in stationing a squadi'on of light dra- goons at Middleswortli. The presence of the detachment shed its exhilarating influence over every nook and corner of the town. Public- houses in by-streets, albeit never languishing for want of business, found trade so briskly on the increase as to admit of their providing customers gratis with glees, fiddles, and other musical j3ro- vocatives of thirst. Small shopkeepers, derivino- COUNTRY QUARTERS. 27 no practical benefit from the presence of the military, but rejoicing in that sense of bustle which the mercantile mind connects vaguely with an idea of profit, were glad to treat the men of the sword to much serious drinking free of ex- pense. It was the beer these heroes swallowed, not what they paid for, that stimulated consump- tion so vigorously during the dark hours inter- vening between evening stables and watch-set- ting. The principal hotel, too, furnished the officers' mess with wines at the highest possible price, and sundry lodging-house keepers derived their own share of profit from such enterprising ladies as did not disdain to accompany their hus- bands into country quarters. All classes received the cavalry with open arms. Even the farrier- major, notoriously the ugliest man in the regi- ment, and the thirstiest, confessed that he had more liquor given him than he could di'ink, and, although an L-ishman, more offers of marriage than he could find it in his conscience to enter- tain. The mufifatee makers, as may be supposed, were not the least ardent admirers of their mili- tary guests. The male portion seemed too happy to welcome any additional incentive to the con- 28 THE BROOKES OF BKIDLEMERE. sumption of excisable fluids, and the female stitchers, closers, and other handicrafts-women of the trade felt secure of a suitor apiece, spurred, braided, and small-waisted, of easy manners, chronic thirst, and tolerable constancy until ordered elsewhere, A walk through Middleswortli after simset afforded accordingly an amusing and enlivening sight. The muffatee makers having finished stitching for the day, turned out in ' streams, gay with their best attire, in abundant crinolines, saucy hats, and hair, though not very well brushed, dressed in the newest fashion. I must allow they were little remarkable for beauty as a class — even the farrier-major was obliged to ad- mit that — but, then, as he observed, " They zvas so haffable ! " Their military swains 'squired them about the doors of the different public-houses, while their civilian adorers were drinking steadily within — the latter thus consoling themselves under unavoidable defeat; for how could they hold their oAvn against such odds as clanking spurs, laced jackets, forage caps (without peaks) balanced on one ear, waxed moustaches, and, above all, that fascinating walk, half stride, half COUNTRY QUARTERS. 29 swagger, combining the utmost rigidity of body, with apparent paralysis of the lower limbs, Avliich is specially affected by every dismounted dragoon ? Private Overall, of C Troop, Loyal Dancing Hussars, lounging in the ill-lighted street, under the sign of tlie " Fox and Fiddle," and listening to some one plapng an accordion within, seemed the only individual in uniform unprovided with a companion of the other sex. Overall was a smart fellow, too, a favourite with his captain, rather an authority amongst his comrades, very often seen smoking a cigar, and, when he took off his pipe- clayed glove, further adorned with a ring. That Miss Blades, the butcher's daughter, was secretly over head and ears in love with Overall, and Cutting her eyes to the humiliating con- sideration that she was thus "letting herself down," would steal out presently for a five minutes' interview at the corner of the street, under pretence of " fetching father's beer," is a shred of gossip unconnected with my tale, and on which I am not obliged to dwell ; but, in the meantime, Overall was switching the unoffending air with a smart riding-whip, and debating in his own mind whether he would not go in for "just 30 THE BKOOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. another half-pint," not without a strong inclination to carry that measure in the affirmative. Pre- sently he espied a comrade coming up the street in the attire soldiers call " coloured clothes " — an expression they apply indiscriminately to all civil garments, even a suit of black, in contradistinction to the scarlet or blue of their o^^■n uniforms. On the present occasion the " colourcnl clothes " were of a good working fustian, denoting that the wearer was a batman, or officer's servant, though on the strength of the regiment as a trooper in its ranks. He carried a pair of very workioanlike top-boots in his hand, and was obviously hastening back to barracks. He must have been in a hurry, for he declined his friend's invitation to drink. "Do as I do. Tommy?" asked Overall, hos- pitably, with a jerk of his smart head towards the ' Fox and Fiddle.' " Take a drain, man : it'll do ye good ! " " Throat's as dry as a limekiln ! " answered "Tommy," whose surname was Belter, passing the back of his large hand across his moustaches. "Can't be done though. Bill. Time's up, d'ye see?" "Just a suck, and run home again," pleaded COUNTRY QUARTERS. 31 Overall, spinning a sixpence in tlie air, and catcli- inf? it dexterously as it fell. "Wants twenty minutes to stables yet." But Belter was proof against his comrade's solicitations, and passed on, shaking his head gravely as one who fulfils a duty at great i)ersonal sacrifice. Let us follow him through the wind- ings of two or three dark and slijjpery streets, which ho threaded as though well acquainted with their intricacies, and in the gloomiest of which a heavy figure lurched helplessly against him, and subsided with a drunken laugh into a sitting posture on the pavement. " Hurrah ! " hiccuj^ped Jem Batters — for Jem, I am sorry to say, it was. " It's my call now. J\lr. Batters will favour the company with a song. Hurrah !" Belter spread a cotton handkerchief carefully on the driest square of pavement, stood the top- boots thereon with extreme deliberation, and then raised the sitter slowly to his legs, propping him against a friendly lamp-post, and urging him to " hold on by his eyelids tUl his missis could nip round the corner, and fetch him home." Jem Batters, however, seemed to treat all such 32 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. domestic interference with utter contempt. Per- suaded that he was presiding over a convivial meeting with equal grace and ability, he continued to pour out a doleful lament, bewailing himself in the reflection that " if he had had soo"! government, He had not come to thid " and impressing on his hearer, with touching gravity (while he clung to the lamp-post), a moral contained in the following stanza, which, though it seemed to have no connection with the rest of his ditty, he repeated over and over again : — " But I was always ready To run at every one's call ; Though it grieves my mind, yet still, I find Good government is all." Then he shook his head, got gradually lower and lower do^vn the lamp-post, and subsided once more into his former sitting postm-e on the flag-stones. The fact is, Jem was helplessly drunk. Several causes had combined since sundown to produce this disgraceful, and I am bound to say, by no means unusual, result. In the first place, Jem was desirous of meeting COUNTRY QUARTERS. 33 a friend in Philip Stoney's employment, to impart the good news that he hoped to enter the same service on the morrow. A naiTow, crowded street is an uncomfortable locality for conversation. The friend was a married man ; but it was " washing-day " at home. Independent of the confusion, damp, and other disagreeables attend- ing such an operation in the scanty lodging tenanted by a working man, he was too well drilled by his " missis " to think of bringing in a visitor at such a time. Where could the two go but into the well-warmed, well-lighted, and well- decorated tap of the familiar '• Fox and Fiddle " ? There they had cleanliness, comfort, and shelter, the excitement of societv, and the charms of music, for the accordion was in practised and untiring hands. There they were free to talk, and laugh and jest, and gossip with their owti class, discussing their news of the day, the rate of wages, and the price of bread — ;just as interesting to them as the odds on the Derby, or the defeat of Ministers, to my lord at Brookes's and "Wliite's. But being there, they must call for a pint. Men always begin Mitli a pint, and soon that which promised to be but a cheerful and friendly meet- VOL. I. D 34 THE BROOKES OP BRIDLEMERE. ing grew to a quarrelsome and degrading debauch. Jem Batters had only one shillmg in his pocket — the shilling PhiKp gave him in the afternoon; but a man with a tendency to inebriety can get very drunk for that sum if he likes. The soldiers, too, shared the beer to which they were treated very freely with Jem, lie was an able-bodied, likely looking young fellow, just the stufi", so they told him, out of which to make a dragoon, sinking the two years' riding-school drill indisj)onsable for such a metamorphosis ; and Jora, wIkj liad a vague idea in his cups that he might some day be tempted to '' take the shilling," encom-agcd the: idea, though he never went so far as actually to accept her Majesty's bounty. Contented, as it seemed, with the quantity of liquor his military asjtirations procured him free of expense, he would have enlisted long ago, like many another unquiet spirit, liad it not been for his mother, but with all his faults there was this one redeeming point in Jem's character, that he loved old dame Batters in his heart. He was often hard in speech to her ; he was rude and dis- respectful in behaviour : but this was the rind, so to speak, and outer husk of the man At the core. COUNTRY QUARTERS. 35 he would have made any sacrifice rather than vex " mother," and the old woman knew it. " He's not so steady, our Jim ain't ;" she would say to her cronies by the fire-side, " not so steady as some on 'em, but he's a good son, is Jem, and always has been, there ! and always will be." Jem did not look very steady now, with a red ■neckcloth untied, and foolish eyes shining out from a pale face, in the dull stare of intoxication. Belter glanced down at him, half sympathizing, half scornful, but appeared to think no further interference necessary, for he gathered up the top- boots, and resumed his walk to barracks, \nthout troubling himself any more about his helpless acquaintance. Preserving his burden carefully from a light drizzling rain, now beginning to fall, the batman entered the barracks, and proceeded to the officers' quarters with his usual steady gait, and immove- able, not to say vacant, expression of countenance. Only a r:an familiar with its every nook and corner could have fomid his way along the passage and up the gloomy staircase, whereon a feeble oil- lamp shed the smallest possible amount of light, without tumbling over a certain empty chest and d2 36 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. iron coal-box, tliat fortified the approaches to his destination. Belter, however, walked confidently on till he reached a dirty and dilapidated door, on which was painted, in letters nearly obliterated, "Offs.' Qrs. No. 5," Here he gave two solemn consecutive thumps with his sturdy knuckles, and followed his summons at once into the apartment, after the manner of these domestics, without, waiting: for an answer from within. There is no greater contrast than that aflorded by the inside and outside of an oflicer's barrack- room. The passage was as dark, dirty, and dismal, as can be conceived. The bare boards — for of course it was uncarpeted — stood an inch deep in dried mud, bronght in by many a pair of regu- lation boots and clinking spurs. It was scarcely better lighted by day than by night, and besides the dreary chest and coal-box above mentioned, there was not an article of furniture to be seen, sug- gestive of a civilized dwelling-place ; but no sooner had the batman closed the door behind him, than he entered an apartment overflowing with every modern comfort, convenience, and luxury, all port- able moreover, and made to be packed up and carried about wherever the regiment moved in its COUNT HY QUARTERS. 37 change of quarters. There was a Brussels carpet, there was even a liearth-rng, whereon a royal Bengal tiger, gorgeous in colour, and of abnormal stripes, was worked in tapestry ; there was a couch, of ample width and ])roportions, forming a sofa by day and a bedstead by night, of which the brass knobs and general iron-work denoted that it could be taken awav in a bajrcrasre-wafffron at five minutes' notice ; there was an easy-chair, of the easiest description, draped with a real tiger skin, obviously no relation to the monster on the hearth-rug; there was a table that made a chest, and a chest that made a table, both adoi-ned with rich coverings of gaudy hues, and littered with tlieir respective treasures ; gold-topped scent-bottles, silver dressing things, ivory hair-brushes — all the appliances of an elaborate, and indeed lady-like toilet, except a mirror, represented in this martial domicile by a four-inch shaving-glass, hung on a nail in the window-sill. Several gun-cases were stowed away in corners, surmounted by trophies, consisting of Eastern sabres, regulation swords, cherry-stick pipes, riding whips, umbrellas, and sabretasches. Innumerable boots were ranged in military order against the walls, and at least twenty pairs of 38 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. spui'S, inclusive of those expressly manufactured with smooth rowels, for dancing, occupied the chimney-piece, forming indeed, with the green plush cushion on which they reposed, its principal ornament. Above the fireplace hung a photographic print of the Ariadne, supported by a portrait of " Beeswing," in oils, and a likeness of " Tom Sayers," in water-colours ; the mare looking a good deal more attenuated by training than the champion. An embroidered cigar-case lay open by a gold-laced forage-cap, where both had been cast aside hurriedly on the couch, and a deep tin bath, yet steaming with hot soap-and-water, from which the occupant had lately emerged, like Venus from the sea, filled the apartment with a misty vapour, that mingled heavily with its habitual odours of saddlery, blacking, varnish, aromatic per- fumes, and stale tobacco-smoke. Kagman de EoUe, formerly of Eton College, Bucks, middle division, fifth form, and No. 9, in the ten-oar, late of Christ Church, Oxford — whence, I am concerned to add, he was rusticated for breach of discipline, before the completion of his second term — and now subaltern in her Majesty's COUNTRY QUARTERS. 39 Loyal Dancing Hussars, having just washed himself, after his day's exercise, from top to toe, is preparing to smoke his fifth and last cigar before dinner, in all the comfort of warmth, clean linen, and. a fancy costume of velvet, such as in these days has completely superseded the old-fashioned dressing gown. Mr. de Rolle poises the Havannah in his fingers, and eyes the top-boots which Belter is disposing in military line with their comrades. To judge by his countenance, he has very little on his mind, nor a mind indeed constructed to carry any con- siderable burden at a time, but his face is rosy and good-humoured ; his figure, though somewhat thick and lumpy for a light dragoon, is vigorous and full of health, whilst his clear eye, and glossy hair, denote that good digestion, without which no mortal can be said to enjoy his fair share of physical happiness. En^-iable man ! he has but one anxiety at present — he is a little apprehensive, not \\ithout reason, of growing too fat — and medi- tates " Banting," though he has not yet become a disciple of the Great Attenuator. " Belter," says his master, after a pause of deep thought, " those tops must be three shades 40 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. lighter, at least. You've browned tliem to maho- gany, and I like them the colour of double Glou- cester cheese." Belter springs to "attention," not a twitch crosses that well-drilled scr\'ant'8 face. " Very- good, sir," is all the answer, and yot tho com- plexion of these tops is the curse and the trial of Belter's hfe. "He'll be druv to drink, he knows it," as he tells Overall, in moml'nts of con- vivial confidence. " It's trouble as done it, all along o' them tops ; but he'll be druv to drink, see if he aint." Then he finishes his beer with a sigh, and walks steadily off, once more to resume his boot-trees, and his brush-case, and his daily efforts at the unattainable. "Shall I clean 'em all over again, sir?" asks Belter, hopelessly, pointing to at least half-a-dozen pair. " Yes — no," answers Comet de Rolle, for he is a good naturned cornet enough, notwithstanding his peculiar taste in colours. " Only mind next time to turn me out properly. Hang it, man, if you want a pattern, go and buy a cheese, and copy it ! Come in !" The last two words are roared out pretty loudly. COUNTRY QUARTERS. 41 in answer to a siimiuuiis ut the duur, from a heavy kick, wliicli nearly (h-ives in the panels, followed by the entrance of u younrr man, with a short black pipe in his mouth, emitting fragrant odours of Latakia. lie is clad in a .shooting dress of knickerbockers, leggings, Ilythe boots, grey jerkin, felt hat, with black cock's feather, and, in short, the usual \\ar-paint of a '* brave," in the present day. " Halloo, Ivags !" said the new comer, removing the pipe from between two rows of very white teeth, under a silky and carefully-trimmed moustache. "Look here, old fellow, you must take my orderly duty to-morrow ; I've i)romised to go to Tollesdale, for a crack at old Waywarden's pheasants, and I quite forgot I should have the belt on. Never mind, I can do yours next time, so it's all right." Now " Kags," as his brother officers called him, would much prefer having the morrow to himself, not that he has anything particular to do, but like all idle men, he enjoys and appreciates the pleasures of indolence for its own sake, yet he consents at once to this ofl-hand aiTangement of his friend, and resigns himself without a murmur 42 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. to his imprisonment, with the many parades, inspections, and other duties, enforced by the rigid discipline of the Dancing Hussars. The truth is, Walter Brooke, tlie most poi)ular, and indeed, as it is sometimes called, par excellence^ the show man of his regiment, had obtained over none of his comrades so complete and unquestioned an influence as over " Rags." To imitate, as far as circumstances permitted, his pattern's dress, walk, manner, tastes, pursuits, and sentiments, was the one study of Ragman do Rolle's life. It was a failure, of course. All sudi imitations are, and indeed the honest, good-humoured Comet was perhaps less than most men fitted to engraft upon his own sturdy person, and frank disposition, the air of a somewhat spoilt dandy, and what is called " a finished man of the world." Rags was a good fellow enough, not bright, nor quick-witted, but with a certain plodding sense of right, and nice feeling of honour, that guided his conduct as safely as any amount of wordly wisdom. Of old family, as his name implied, his grandfather and father had both been in trade, bringing to their business much of the energy, and a spice of the adventurous spirit, that distinguished their mail-clad ancestors. COUNTEY QUARTERS. 43 Consequently, they made money fast, and all they had they left to Kags. A cornet, even in a crack cavalry regiment, Nvhose income is numbered by thousands, finds himself a very rich man, and liable to be spoilt by adulation outside the barrack gates, although, to do them justice, the mere pos- session of wealth aftects his popularity very little amongst his brother officers witliin. Nevertheless, if he is of a free, good-humoured and jovial cha- racter, it is not to be supposed that a " balance at his bankers'" is likely to lower him in their favour, and " JRags," as he was universally called, found the path of life made very smooth and easy for him, rolled, as it were, and gravelled, with plenty of ripe fruit and blooming flowers, to pluck by the way. Like many others, he was scarcely aware of his own advantages. From his mother, a comely Scotchwoman of the middle class, he inherited a considerable amount of diffidence and rather lai-ge hands and feet, to equalize, perhaps, the envi- able gifts of an even temper and a faultless diges- tion. He was not much at home in the drawiug:- room ; but quite in his element in the barrack- yard. It was told of him, that on one occasion. 44 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLE3IERE. sitting between two fine ladies in a tent at an archery meeting, and finding nothing to say to either, he laid down knife and fork submissively, and looking from one to the other, thus appealed to both in the plaintive accents of despair, '• Can't ye speak to a fellow?" Being very fine ladies, they were amused, and therefore delighted with him, encourajjino; and makinir much of him during the rest of the afternoon — vowing he was an original and a quiz. But the last accusation fell harmless ; for those who knew him ever so little, felt there could be no deception about Rags. Dull, honest, sincere, jovial, and good-tempered, his character is best summed up iu his own avowal of his tastes and predilections. " I ain't much of a laches' man, I know," quoth Eags, when taxed with disinclination to female society. " I'm more at home with men, ye see. I hope I should run straight anwhere ; but I like soldiering— I like barracks. I hke my cool bottle of claret and my weed after dinner, and a mess- table suits me down to the ground." So he did his duty, rode with his squadron, and smoked his cigar in great comfort and content ; firmly persuaded that life had nothing better to offer COUNTRY QUARTERS. 45 tlian the good opinion of his brother officers, and speedy promotion to a troop in the Dancing Hussars. Walter Brooke, puffing the short pipe >vith his back to the fire, was a very different person in every respect from liis easy-going fi-iend. A\'hen I say he was the most popuhir man in tlie regi- ment, I do not mean that lie was the most beloved ; but that his opinion carried more weight, and liis personal influence was greater than that of any one else, from the war-worn old Colonel, bro\Mied and bleached by an Indian sun, and counting nearly as many wounds as he had clasps and medals on his brave old breast — to tlic Paymaster, twenty stone in weight, never Imown to be out of humour, and, from his very duties, an official with whom it was important to be on the most friendly terms. Either of these, and indeed many other members of the corps, had won more affection ; but none commanded so much admiration as Walter Brooke. I believe his secret was this : — Whatever he did, he had the knack of making it appear he could do better if he chose. There was a quiet, matter-of- course consciousness of superiority in his manner : perhaps the result of natural audacity and self- 46 THE BKOOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. reliance ; perhaps assumed from motives of calcula- tion, by one who was shrewd enough to know that in society the world assesses a man at his own valuation, which led people to think there was considerable power latent in Brooke's character, only wanting opportunity to display itself; that he had it " in him, sir ! " so they said, " and some day it would come out." When people talk thus, they are prepared for a very favourable judgment. It enhances their own penetration, and everybody likes to nod sagaciously, yet not without triumph, and say, " I told you so ! " Walter Brooke was careful never to over-do the thing. He was no boaster, but by inference — no swaggerer, save by implication. He seemed to say less than he knew, and to mean more tlian he said. Generally cool, always collected, neither subject to the influence of bodily caloric nor men- tal excitement, he had the credit of steadier nerves and a better temper than he really pos- essed. Decidedlv good-looking — at least so the women said — he enjoyed the further advantage of a figure which coats and other articles of attire fitted of their own accord, while his hands and feet seemed made on purpose for the gloves and COUNTRY QUARTERS. 47 boots he wore. Walter spent less money on his personal adornment than any other young man in the regiment — and not a tithe of Avhat Rags did — yet they admitted unanimously (and this is no mild panegyric), that for all external qualifications, either in or out of imiform, Brooke was " quite the Hussar ! " The men were not perhaps so fond of him as the oflScers. He was aware of this, and it annoyed him, for he knew that his inferiors are nicer judges of a gentleman than his equals. It may be that in his intercourse Mith them, more opportunities arise for testing the true politeness which comes from the heai-t ; it may be that they place their standard higher, as not aspiring to reach it themselves; but the coarser, commoner clay seems always very ready to detect flaws in the porcelain ; and if you must needs set up a golden image, and would prove the brightness and purity of the metal, find out how it looks from beloiv. So Eags agreed to do Walter's duty, and bade him draw the other easy-chair to the fii-e, and smoke at his ease, asking him hospitably, at the same time, " Whether he wouldn't take anything to drink ? " 48 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. His friend seemed somewhat restless, and not in the best humour. Ignoring the invitation both for rest and refreshment, he stood with his back to the fire and puffed savagely at the short pipe durinfr several seconds, then he broke out : " What a wretched day's sport ! How infernally tliey mismanage the whole thing now tliat the governor's laid up. Not that it was much better in his time, with their ridiculous fancies about the tenants and tlie ground game. Old Halfcock's superannuated. It's time he was pensioned off, or shot, or put out of the way somehow. I /ell you, Rags, we ought to have had five hundred pheasants to-day in those coverts, if they were properly looked after. I was quite ashamed (though I've nothing to do with it), when I saw you fellows on the patch of mangold-wnirtzel at the end of the fox covert. The few pheasants there were went back, and you'd only one * rocketer,' only am, 111 swear, for I saw it." *' And I missed him," said Ixags, good-hu- mouredly ; who, to do him justice, could usually make good practice with his breech-loader, even at " rocketers." " And you missed him," repeated the other, with COUNTRY QUARTERS. 49 rather a contemptuous smile ; adding, between a volley of little short, angry puffs, " It always will be so, as long as Jack has the management. Jack won't listen to anybody. Jack won't go anywhere to see how the thing ought to be done. Jack don't even like my bringmg out two guns. It's perfectly ridiculous in these days ; but Jack is so painfully slow." " Well, I thought we had some pretty shooting enough," interposed Kags, uneasily divided between his natural spirit of contentment and the impossibility of thinking diflferently from his friend. " I had very good fun with the rabbits in the copsewood ; and, by Jove! Walter, that's some- thing like beer, that stuff you gave us at luncheon." " Oh ! of course, if you go in for beer," answered the other, with a sneer, "it's a different thing. You'd better take a share in the brewery with that precious Mr. Stoney they always tliink it necessary to ask to Bridlemere. ^^^lat the governor sees in him is more than I can tell. Jack is hand-in-glove with him, of course ; he's just such another fellow himself." " He's not half a bad shot," said honest Eags, tliinking the while of a certain woodcock between VOL. I. E 50 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. the trees, which Philip had turned over in very workmanlike style. "He's not half a good one," replied Walter. "Besides, the fellow's a snob. The governor used to be more particular when we were boys. I don't mean to say there's any harm in Stoney ; but he's in trade, mv good fellow, don't vou see ? He's in trade ! " *' Oh, of course ! Exactly ! " answered poor Eags, who had not the coura2:e to confess he thoufrht none the worse of him for that. " You must draw the line somewhere, I suppose. Don't you dine with us to-night, Walter ? " he added, getting off the treacherous ground as quick as he could ; for Kags was very sensitive on the subject of birth — a weakness probably inherited fi-oui a plebeian mother, rather than from a long line of male ancestors, who were paladins in plate-armour, cen- turies before the Brookes of Bridlemere had ever been heard of. "Not to-night," answered his friend, kicking the coals into a flame with the heel of his neat shooting-boot. " Waywarden expects me to dinner, and I dare say will give me a pretty good one ; though he's never had what I call a real cook COUNTRY QUARTERS. 51 since Kavigotte left. I wish you were coming, Eags; old AVay warden's a cai)ital fellow, and shows a good deal of proper feeling about claret. ]My lady is always pleasantest in a small party ; and. Lady Julia's a nice girl enough, though it's the fashion to abuse her. I wish you were coming, we could ride over together." Eags devoutly wished it too. All this, being interpreted, meant — " I, Walter Brooke, with my advantages of birth, manner, impudence, and ap- pearance, hold a position to which you, Eagman de Eolle, cannot aspire. Tollesdale is one of the great houses, with its indispensable accessories of magnificence, exclusiveness, and a French cook. Its mistress is one of the few fine ladies left ; re- joicing, after the manner of her land, in a pomp of dignified inanity, and a reign of terrorism, supported by the cowardice of the oppressed. The daughter of the house, I suppose, would hardly condescend to admit the existence of a fellow like you — a mere subaltern of light dragoons, unacknoMledged by St. James's Street, and only known in Pall Mall to the messenger of the Army and Navy Club. Yet, behold ! I am at home in these enchanted regions. I can criticise the claret, and find fault with the E 2 52 THE BROOKES OF BEIDLEMERE. dinners. I can brave the eriisliing manners of the mother, and even speak of the daughter with half- pitying approval, and charitable allowances for her failings. I am one of them. Don't you envy me ? You are not ! " Bags did envy him ; though, to do him justice, it was less for the pleasures of the evening than the morrow. Nay, had he been invited, he could probably have been induced to face -Lady Way- warden's drawing-room, only by the anticipation of the following day's sport amongst the belts and hedgerows of the Home Farm at Tollesdale, and the "hot corner" in the park, at the back of the keeper's house. This young man, you see, had not passed the period of life when field-sports, in some dis- positions, seem to be an absolute necessity of existence. In later years, though even old blood boils and thrills under the influence of a rattUng gallop amongst large fences, or at the ringing of shots and cheer of beaters, in a deep, stately woodland, gaudy with the red, russet, and deep brown hues of Autumn's last caress, these pleasures are taken sparingly as they come, and at least with an outward show of sobriety and « COUNTRY QUARTERS. 53 moderation ; but in the morning of life, when the bloom is rosy on the cheek and the beard soft on the chin, to miss a good day's shooting by some untoward accident — to be stopped hunting by an untimely frost; these are disappointments which the' untried philosophy of inexperience accepts with a frank avowal of vexation and disgust. Despite a wholesome fear of the ladies, Bags would have liked notliing better than to order portmanteau and breech-loaders to be got ready for ToUesdale. " How are you going ? " he asked, after a pause, during which, for the hundredth time that week, he had been wishing that he could change places with Walter Brooke. "I can lend you my trap, if you like. It's a darkish night, and Belter says it's beginning to rain. Sober John will get you there under the hour." " Sober John has quite enough to do, grinding about the country with his master," answered Walter, who never scrupled to avail himself of thatusefid animal when he wanted him. •'"And as for his getting there by dinner-time, why. Bags, if you'll give me five minutes' start, and lay me three to two, I'll undertake to beat him on foot, 54 THE BROOKES OF BKIDLEMERE. and truudle a hoop before me tlie whole way ! No. I shall canter Jack's cob over, and send him back to Bridlemere in the morning." " But won't your brother want him ? " said good- natured Eags. " I heard him talk of riding some- where to-morrow, while we were at luncheon. I can lend him one of mine, if he likes, you know, as I shall be doing your duty." " Oh ! never mind Jack," answered the younger brother, filling liis pipe, and preparing for a start. " We've some long distances next week ; we shall want all the hacks. Jack don't mind ; he'll walk. Jack's a capital Avalker. Good night, old fellow ; I must make running, for I'm late as it is." So Walter Brooke groped his way down the dark staircase to the door where brother Jack's pony stood in waiting, held by an unbraced and bare-armed drairoon. He was in the saddle, and away without loss of time, the man looking after him with a grim half-doubtful approval, as the pony's hoofs clattered out of the barrack-gate, and down the slippery, ill-paved street. Walter would have ridden his own horse, or even one belonging to Eags, carefully over such ground, however much he might have been hurried, but he COUNTRY QUARTERS. 55 had accustomed himself to treat everything of his elder brother with a recklessness, which arose not so much from want of proper feeling as from the generous character and utter unselfishness of the owner. AVhatever belonged to Jack Brooke, was at the service of everyone wlio wanted it. Such a disposition need not go beyond its own family circle to indulge its peculiar Mcakuess. Jack seldom had a shilling in his pocket, or a good coat to his back ; to-morrow he must trudge many a mile through the muddy lanes, because Walter, with plenty of horses at command, had borrowed his pony for a mere whim of his own, and Jack, tliough justly prizing the animal, never dreamt for a moment of saying " No." It was a good pony, no doubt, and sure-footed, as Walter could not but admit, whilst rattling it fifteen miles an hour down hill, on the stones; nevertheless, for all his hurry, he too paused when he arrived at the bridge, looking wistfully, even as Philip Stoney had done, over the parapet, listening to the mm-mm-ing wind, and the quiet lapping of the waters. For a few moments he seemed lost in thought, and laid the rein on the pony's neck ; then, ere he 56 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMEEE. tightened it once more, and gave the animal a hint to go on, he spoke aloud : " Eum girl, Nell ! Wish she'd marry Eags. Yet I don't know how we should get on without her at Bridlemere. Somehow, it wouldn't seem like home without Nell ! " CHAPTER III. THE BROOKES. ELL, all unconscious, was playing the pianoforte the while, by the light of a wood fire, glowing and crackling under the ample chimney-piece of the old library, at Bridlcmere. The old library that — because it had neyer been intended for the pur- pose — had gradually become the fayourite sitting- room of the whole house. It was yery lofty, with deep narrow windows, looking on a little sheltered flower garden, with oak floor and wainscoting; with a ceiling in sufliciently bad taste, on which the different coats-of-arms of the Brookes were picked out in scarlet and gold — perhaps I ought to say, " gules and or." The bookcases at Bridle- mere were not so well furnished as the cellars ; 58 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. and large gaps on tlieir shelves, wliicli sliould have been filled with intellectual food, were littered with fly-hooks, fishing-tackle, work-boxes, back- gammon boards, battledores, shuttlecocks, and such miscellaneous articles as are apt to accumulate in any large room of a country house to which young ladies and gentlemen habitually resort. Bridle- mere was an overgrown, old-fasliioned building — partly of the Kestoration, partly of Queen Anne's time — and had little pretension to regularity of architecture or arrangement. The diniug-room was the smallest and the worst on the gi'ound floor ; the di-awing-room the prettiest and the coldest. The best bed-rooms were ghostly, and uncomfortable to a degree — much too large, and in sad want of new furniture ; while in the "Bachelors' Gallery," as it was called, a guest micrht find himself in the cosiest and neatest of retreats, bright ^vith French paper and flowering chintz, replete with every appliance for cleanliness and comfort, fragrant with the woodbine that trailed and twined about the wmdow, and com- manding an uninterrupted view of the tops of some elms, an ivy-covered tower, and the broad face of the stable clock. It is pleasant to lie in • - THE BROOKES. 59 bed in such a room as this, and watch the rooks wheeling against an April sky ; listening to their cawing through the open window, and looking forward to a day of happy country idleness — only happy and enjoyable when earned by a previous period of honest anxiety and toil. Below stairs, doubtless, Bridlemere was cheerful enough — the servants took care of that. For good fires and strong tea, commend me to the steward's room and the servants' hall ; but, certainly, the darkest and gloomiest apartment in the whole house was that in which the family chose habitually to reside. They might have made it a little more cheerful too, with a few prints or pictures, of which there was no want in other parts of the building ; prints representing many a spirited scene of country and sporting life. Dogs and deer from Landseer, that you could not look at for five minutes without feeling the wild breeze ofi" the heather, and fancy- ing you smelt the peat smoke. Horses from Kosa Bonheur, snorting lifelike in the pla}'fulness of wanton fear ; or cattle coming out of their frames with meek wistful eyes, and wet healthy muzzles. and the dew of mornins; fflisteninoc on their shair D &■■ ?gy 60 THE BKOOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. russet hides. Pictures, too, of many a peri- wigged gallant, and tiglit-waisted dame; the gentleman invariably thrusting on public notice a pale and slender hand ; the lady displaying with much liberality a long white neck and bosom. But none of these were admitted to the library, perhaps lest they should withdraw the visitors' attention from its great pictorial chef-d'oeuvre and work of art — The Family Tree of the Brookes of Bridlemere. It was all very well f( )r the Craddocks of Caradoe, now Dukes of IMerthyr-Tydvil and Severnside, Earls of Caradoe and Lionesse, Barons Bonspiel in the Peerage of Scotland, and all the rest of it, whose ancestors sat with King Arthur at his Bound Table, and held their heads high even then, as having " come in " with King Cole, to look down in pitying condescension on the antiquity of the Brookes. It was all very well for Lord Way- warden, of the illustrious race of Treadwell (the first Treadwell ennobled was bootmaker to Charles the Second), to assume a priority over the Brookes, as his rank entitled him, at all county meetings or social gatherings ; and for Lady Waywarden to speak of them as " very good sort of people, whom THE BROOKES. 01 she was always delighted to see " — wliich she was not. The Brookes, I say, esteemed their own pedigree infinitely superior to what they con- sidered the fabidous ancestry of the Duke, and the 'mercantile origin of the Earl. To be a Brooke was with them tantamount to a diploma, vouching not only for birth, but lor beauty, talent, manners, probity, all the advantages, external and internal, that are assumed, like gout, to be trans- mitted from one generation to another through the blood. The Family Tree, however, on examination, scarcely afforded sufficient reason for inorcUnate pride of birth. Not\nthstan(hng that in its many roots, suckers, and ramifications, it resembled • that redundant plant, " The Auricaria," called irreverently "The Puzzle Monkey" — notwith- standing that it required much practice, a clear head, and a sharp-pointed pencil besides, to follow out all the marriages and intermarriages of the different shoots, terminating too often in a httle open cii'cle like a medal, with some barren spin- ster's name sohtary in the midst — not^nthstanding that the attention was much distracted from its main trunk, by foreign grafts and excrescences 02 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. allied to liouses, which again were allied to royalty, it seemed pretty clear that the family knew little about their origin prior to the appearance of a certain Sir Geoffrey Brooke, who did good service in the cause of royalty durinjr tlie Rebellion, and would haye assuredly been killed or taken prisoner with his stand of pikes at ]\[arston ]\Ioor, had ho not run away, like many another gulhint cavalier, when the action became too hot for him. From an old yellow letter — of which the ribbon that once fastened it, according to the fashion of the time, though much worn and frayed, was in better preservation than any other part of tlie missive — it appeared that Sir Geoffrey, before going into battle, had commended to the care of his loyal wife and sweetheart, to ^vhom it was addressed, his poor old father, under the title of a simple yeoman and franklin, giving thanks to Heaven, at the same time, with quaint and sincere self- gratulation for his owni advancement in life. This letter, though carefully preserved, was neverthe- less ignored by the family, who preferred a far- fetched theory of their own regarding Sir Geoffrey's origin, and affected to consider him as a younger branch of the Devonshire De Brokes, hereditary THE BROOKES. 6*3 grand posset-bearers to the Plantagenct kings, and found in old chartei-s seised of certain tiefsand manors, now lapsed to the Crown. They might have been satisfied, nevertheless, with their own Sir Geoffrey as he stood — an honest, God-fearing old cavalier, who stuck to church and sceptre, fought as well as his neigh- boui-s, and swore by Prince Rupert, who lived to see " the king enjoy his own again," and to win for himself, though history does not explain how, a goodly tale of rich acres in the vicinity of IMiddles- wortli, where he built the oldest and least commo- dious parts of the house now standing, and died in it at something over four-score — the fii-st of the Brookes of Uridlemere. The Court of the " ^Icrry ^lonarch," with its reckless pursuit of pleasure, its taste for meretri- cious display, and its unbounded licence of man- ners, served to ruin the fortunes of such Eoyalist families as did not succeed in obtaining places or monopolies under its patronage, quite as surely, and almost as rapidly as revei'ses at Edge Hill and Naseby, or fines inflicted by the Parliament and the Protector. Eank, in a second generation, has at all times been prone to affect the pomps and 04 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. vanities, ratlier than the duties of its position. Sir Egremont, son to Sir Geoffrey, shook the dice at Whitehall, and ran short-tailed horses at New- market, to a tune which levelled half the West Avenue, and melted away many a score of fat acres round Bridlemere. There was a picture of him over the dining-room sideboard, representing a handsome, but doNvnish and sullen-looking man, with a periwig, a breastplate, and a. tall glass of wine in his hand (artist unknown), which formed a striking; contrast to the likeness of his father bv liis side, whose weather-beaten, war-worn visage was depicted simpering under his steel head-piece, turned carelessly away from a dirty-faced page, a fore-shortened charger, and a general action raging furiouslv in the backjiround. Sir Egremont not only dissipated his property, but also married his dairymaid, and thus on the first opportunity stmck a deadly blow at the aristocratic pretensions of his house. The daiiymaid had a large progeny of daughters, branching out, indeed, all over the genealogical tree ; some wedded to diverse ple- beian surnames ; some dying like ungathered roses on the parent stem. The property now passed THE BROOKES. 65 into possession of a family named Brown, and a stranger could not commit a gi-eater solecism, nor put a deeper affront on either race, than to confuse the Browns and the Brookes of Bridlemere. One of Sir Egremont's married daughters, however, must have preserved her patronymic ; for in George the First's reign, and after the Browns had added a wing and put their mansion into tliorough repair, a young Dorcas Brooke appeai-s on the stage as the last remaining scion of her name, and to Dorcas Brooke appertains a pretty little romance, commemorated among the archives of her family by a bad picture in oils, and a long account in manuscript. This young lady, it appears, dwelt with her aunt and uncle by marriage, the latter a saddler and ' harness-maker in the City. She seems to have been a fair young lady, and an amiable, also more venturous than other damsels of her class, in- heriting, perhaps, something of old Su* Geoffrey's energy and resolution of character. London, in the reign of George the Fu-st, was not safe to walk about in at night as it is now ; there were 3Iohocks in those days, as there have been garotters since. Perhaps, too, the VOL. I. p 66 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. anti-Mohocks, like the anti-garotte rs, contrihuted largely to the general confusion after dark. A nervous passenger would whip his sword out, fancpng he was going to be attacked, and become himself the occasion of the ver}' brawl he dreaded, as in later times we have heard of impulsive gen- tlemen who Avould run a muck with " life-pre- servers " and " knuckle-dusters," persuaded that the stranger liumbly asking liis way was some perfidious brigand, scientific in gripe as a Tliug, and backed by a swarm of confederate assassins round tlie corner. The ]\Iohocks, however, were the greater pest to the public, that they slew and maltreated people for sheer amusement. To be drunk with wine by two o'clock in the day ; to " keep it up' \\ith bowls of steaming punch and cups of burnt brandy dm-ing the afternoon ; to " crack t'other bottle," as it was called, at supper, and then sally forth for the express purpose of insuhing women, stabbing men, and beating the watch, was the correct routine of a "blood's" life in those fine old-fashioned times, which some people, I under- stand, can still be found to regret. Dorcas Brooke, however, was a good little girl THE BROOKES. 67 enough, coquettish it may be, and not averse to admiration, yet none tlie less womanly and kind hearted for these natural failings of her sex, and Dorcas Brooke was not to be deterred by all the Mohocks in London from regular attendance at a sewing society in the next street, held twice a week, for the purposes of conversation and charity, retailing gossip, and furnishing the indigent with clothes. Wrapped in her muffler, a pretty white hand peeping out to clasp it round her throat, and her dainty feet tripping lightly over the mud, from gutter to gutter, Dorcas went backwards and forwards from her home to her sewing society, without taking much notice of the admiration, generally expressed with oaths, that she called forth. One tall man, in a cloak, watched her regularly for a fortnight ; and so did a shorter, squarer, sturdier person, of less aristocratic exte- rior, only she did not remark the latter. The tall man ventured to accost her before long, and although she was greatly shocked at the liberty, how- do we know that it was so ver}^ disagreeable, after all, or that she had not implied, as damsels will, by some almost imperceptible hitch of her gar- ments, some unnecessary adjustment of her veil — F 2 G8 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. '* If you follow me, I shall be angry ; if you speak to me, I shall scream ! and yet I shall be a little disappointed if you don't do both ! " The tall man, however, was a Mohock when required. The third week he had a hackney-coach waiting, and a couple of ruffians ready to help his prey into the vehicle. She was a light weight ; a shawl would gag her pretty mouth and easily stifle her cries. It was but lifting her in, and the thing was done. Such trifles took place nightly in that golden age. It was, therefore, well for Dorcas that she had another follower, watchful and unsuspected, of less aristocratic appearance, but of honester nature, stiffly built withal, and holding a good oak cudgel in his hand. These affrays are soon over. There was a piercing whistle ; a scuffling of feet ; a hoarse, suppressed voice muttered, " 3Iy darling, I won't hurt you ! " and a shrill, angry one screamed out, " Let me go, sir ! Help ! Murder ! Let — " Then one of the ruffians went down on the stones, with the blood streaming from his sconce, the rapier flew in shivers out of the tall man's grasp, and the saddler's apprentice flourished his cudgel between Dorcas and her assailant, executing a war- THE BROOKES. 69 dance in the mud that bade defiance to a legion, and hallooing for the watch with might and main the while. The tall man took to his heels and fled ; the fallen accomplice lay senseless where he fell^ his comrade jumped on the box with the hackney-coachman, and drove off. The watch never came at all, and Dorcas Avalked silently home with her uncle's apprentice, longing to thank him heartily, but not daring to speak, for she knew she should burst out crying directly if she ventured to open her lips. Nor was her champion one whit less taciturn. Bayard might have been more courtly in manner, but not more chivalrous at heart. ^Vlso, in the presence of Dorcas, he was shy, mute, and awkward. Her aunt thought him " a poor creature," so she said, " easily dashed, and for all his broad shoulders he hasn't the heart of a chicken ; not he ! Now look at Dorcas ; the spirit of the girl ! But then, to be sure, she's a Brooke ! " It is my own opinion that neither of its participators alluded to the evening's adventure or its termination, after Dorcas said " Good night ! Oh, thank you ! " at the street-door, and hurried upstairs for the " good cry" that could be delayed no longer. Neverthe- 70 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. less, there must have been thereafter a tacit understanding between the two ; and, I dare say, at meals, the only times they met, the apprentice would raise his eyes timidly to seek the girl's, and avert them the instant they caught her glance. It is obvious that when two people are at oppo- site ends of a line, and wish to meet at a given point, one must take the initiative, and move in the desired direction, if it be but aa inch at a time. To do women justice, they slirink sensi- tively from thus commencing operations, and as long as there is a chance of the advance originat- ing with the adversary-, they are as retiring as the snail \vithin its shell ; but when the lover so far forgets liis masculine prerogative of solicitation as to remain a longing devotee rather than a brisk assailant (and it is provoking to reflect that the truer his affection, the less it seems to sue for a return), why then, rather than that the game should languish altogether, and die out for want of players, she will emerge cautiously, gradually, yet very obviously, from her resei-ve, and give him to understand that she is neither so coy, nor so indifferent, nor so hard-hearted as he seems to believe. The saddler's apprentice must have THE BROOKES. 71 gathered a deal of encouragement from his mas- ter's niece, iu the shape of stolen glances and approving smiles, ere he could summon courage to offer ]ier his escort on the river, when she took boat at Whitefriars for a voyage into the country as far as Westminster. Tliat lier aunt made no objections is only to be accounted for on that prin- ciple which, ill all ages and societies, has trusted " the cat to keep the cream." In the present instance, the cream was not the least afraid of the cat; and the latter, although an inexperienced mouser, was delighted with its charge. There could be but one result to such an expe- dition. The waterman, a staunch Hanoverian, full of ale and lovaltv, ran them aground in some three feet of water. Dorcas, losing her footing and her presence of mind simultaneously, upset the wherry with much dexterity, and the appren- tice, in a laced waistcoat, knee-breeches, and full- skirted coat, waded with his dripping burden to the bank, and felt his head swim with a vague delirious happiness when he imprinted his first kiss on her pretty Lips, while she clasped her arms round his neck, and vowed he was her defender and preserver, and had saved her a second time 72 TUE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. from death. The waterman, who was too dnink to walk ashore, was in most danger of the three ; nevertheless, the young people, ignoring the shal- lowness of the river, voted it a rescue, and hence- forth became avowed sweethearts, only waiting for an opportunity to declare themselves. So presently tlir- ajiprentice was "out of his time," and, earning good wages, married his mas- ter's niece, who thus exchanged tlio cherished patronymic of Brooke f(3r the less noble name of Housings — an exchange that only lasted till the next generation, for blaster Housings, in some forty years' practice, amassed a large fortune by the leather trade, and })r('tty Dorcas lived to see her grandfather's roof over lier head, and was buried in the country churchyard at Bridlemere. It was, perhaps, her aunt's untiring influence that stimulated this prosperous London tradesman to purchase the acres she persisted in terming his wife's ancestral property — an influence none the weaker that she never neglected to remind liim of his inferior birth during her lifetime, and left him a good round sum of money at her death. Master Housings and his Dorcas ended their days then at Bridlemere (Lord Waywarden maintains even now THE BROOKES. 73 that the place was so called to commemorate the saddler's employment ; but such an assertion is directly refuted by the title-deeds of this estate, held by one Brown), and their children, by royal licepce, took the name and arms of the Brookes of Bridlcraere. Two or three succeeding Squires drew their rents and drank their port in the old house with- out becoming in any way remarkable. The last bought pictures ; and the present, till his health failed him, kept hounds. Both succeeded in im- poverishing their estate, and the energy of another Sir GeoftVey, or the good sense of another blaster Housings, was beginning to be wanted for the re- pair of the family fortunes. Nevertheless, the Brookes held a high station amongst the coimty people. They could go back honestly to Sir Geoffrey, and, by a perverse train of reasoning common to mankind, descent is the more valued the further off it is fi'om an illustrious ancestor, and, consequently, the less there is of his blood in the veins of his posterity. The present Squire, like the others, was, above all things, proud of being a " Brooke. As he watched the firelight flickering on Xell's black braided hair, crimsoning 74 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. her sweet pale forehead, and tlirowiiig a saffron tinge on the keys of the pianoforte, from ^vhich lier wliite hands were pressing out a low. pltad- ing, niouniful synijthony, dwelling, as if they loved it, on each sad luirmonious chord, he was not thanking God, wlio gave Uini, in his helpless age, tlie love of snrh a daughter, hut congratu- lating himself rather on the two stalwart sons, who should per]ietuate in the male lino thq Brookes of Bridlemere. Helen was a good girl, no doubt — a good girl and a bonny one — but it was well, he thouirht, that he had nearlv twelve feet of man- hood, besides, to look to, lest tho iiiee might become extinct The Squire had b<>en a stalwart, well-grown man in his prime — could cheer his hounds and ride his horses with unfailing lungs and vigorous dexteritv. There were old women al^out the place now, still hale and hearty, who remembered " liis eves as bright as diamonds, bless you ! and his hair as Mack as your hat. Such a hearty, well-limbed man as our Squire was, and a free •T-entleman, too ; with a word for everybody — gentle and simple, rich and poor ;" whilst an old- foshioncd attorney iu ^Fiddlesworth, with a red TUE BROOKES. 75 nose aud wliite neckcloth, quoted Squire Brooke, as " the best judge of jjort Mine in tlie country ; but a careful man of his health, always, and an abstemious, never tfiking more than his one bottle a day !" }]o had been a good shot, of course ; an active, but somewhat pig-headed magistrate, and an invaluable auxiliary at all agricultural dinners, cattle-shows, and such public gatherings of the landed interest and its suppt»rters. Now he could not walk across the room without assist;ince. Powerless below the waist, his arms and shoulders still retained something of their former vigorous mould, and there was brightness in his eye, and colour in his cheek still : but his hair and whiskers had turned white since his attack, and he betrayed, at times, a querulous irritabilitv foreign to his character, denotinir too plainly the approach of a general break-up. One doctor called it rheumatism ; another, suppressed gout ; a third thought that his liver was affected, and a fourth considered the general svstem too low in tone. Nobody sent for a strange practi- tioner, lest he should blurt out the right name, and declare it paralysis. It would have been a friendly deed — it would have been the action of a kind 76 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. and brave man to trll Squire Brooke tlie truth. It seems liard that tlie wayfarer sliould be tlie last person wanu'd of liis inevitahlo journey — should never know he is froin;j: to start lill the long narrow box is as good as ordered and ready for packing — till the horses are actually pawing and snorting in his hearse. The Sfpiire sat in tho warmth of the rhimney- conier ; a newspaper lay brside him; Itut Irom the hal>its of his old active life, he never read it till evening. 1I<- was -t«l in an out-of-(l(X)r8 costume, with his po«>r hcljtlcss legs incased in stout shiM)ting-boots and gaiters. His hat neatly brushed, his gloves carefully fohh'd, his stick ready to suj)port him, were placed within reach on a chair by his side. Every morning Helen went through the same routine, unvaried now for months. After breakfast, she looked at the ther- mometer, and told her father the exact tempera- ture (he was very particular about this) ; then at the barometer, and recorded its changes : setting it by liis directions with great care. Then she went out at the hall-door, wet or dry, and furnished her own report of the atmosphere, seldom tallying with that afforded by the mercur}\ THE BROOKES. il This performance accomplished, tlie Squire would say, " Helen, my dear, I've a good deal to do at the Home Farm ; but I tliiuk I shall not go DUt till the afternoon." At first, b\\o liked to hear him talk so, for it gave her hope. After a time, when he got no better, she would turn away to conceal her tears. At Itust, she became used to this as to other dis- tressing symptoms, and grew to consider it as one of the details — nor indeed the most trvinjr one — of her father's illness and lier own daily duties. She had plenty to attend to — calls for the exercise of thoughtfulness, patience, and self- denial, every hour of the day. Her brothers con- sulted "Nell" in all their complications of stables, kennel, or other opportunities for mismanagement. She was expected to remember tiu-ir engagements, and get them out of their difficulties of forgetful- ness or incivility. She had to sew the buttons on their gloves, and keep them supplied with stationery, stamps, paper-lights, and other miscel- laneous articles which men seem to think crow of their own accord in sleeping and sitting rooms, like daisies in a 3Iay meadow-groimd. More- over, they asked her advice in every conceivable 78 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. dilemma, and never took it on any subject what- ever. Then tlio servants came to jMiss Helen for orders, bringing her, in n-turn, complaints of over- charge from the tradesmen, and reports of each other's short-comings, which they thought it " their duty to name ;" but which could never be substiintiated on furtht-r intpiiry, and poured in her ready ear many a dolorous statement with which they would not venture " to troul)lo the Squire." She had lost her mother several years before, and Helen wt\s well accustomed to a jwsition which demands, more than any other, the qualities of tact, and good-temper, viz., the acceptance of responsibility without authority. But it was as a daughter that the girl shone in her bri'ditest lustre. She had alwavs been devoted to papa, from the time when she used to toddle after him on sturdy little bare legs, round the Home Farm, tumbling about sadly amongst the turnips, and holding tight by his forefinger in the straw-yard, where dwelt those huge homed monsters that visited her in her dreams. From those earlv davs, when she thought him tlie noblest, the wisest, and the most gigantic of men, till THE BROOKES. 79 now that she knew herself the prop and mainstay of the poor bleached, withered old cripple, she had never wavered one hair's breadth in her affection, thuugh year by year it changed its character, progressing tlirough the successive phases of admiration, confidence, anxiety, pity, and protecting love. The Squire accepted it all, as, if men were wise, they would bo careful ever to accept the devotion of the other sex, with a lofty royal condescension, that seemed to expect attachment and homage as a right. Loyalty, I think, must be a special charac- teristic of womanhood, ^J'lioy seldom rebel till the monarch himself shows symptoms of weakness or abdication. A\'hat taxes, too, will they not bear, so long as he imposes them with a fii-m and temperate hand ? Whilst he remains on the dais, they are the sincerest, though the sulttlest of courtiers ; but let liim not descend to meet them on an equal footing in the hall ; and if he place them on a pedestal above his own level, woe betide him ! He "will surely find that the pretty head turns giddy with elevation, and the little feet can trample hard and heavy on the prostrate 80 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. ruler who has voluntarily yielded up his natural sway. The Squire had accustomed himself to be tended and nursed, and waited on by his child, till it seemed only natural that all Helens pleasures, amusements, and pursuits, should give way to every whim of the invalid. She seldom left him for more than a coui)leof hours at a time, and nobody knew how often she had denied her- self a ball, a pic-nic, or an archery meeting, lest the worn face in tlie arm-chair should look wist- fully round for her and tind her not — lest the querulous voice complaining from habit to Helen, should become more querulous and irritiible because she was beyond hearing of its wail. The country people, voted Miss Brooke a little shy, and a little proud. It may be she had a spice of both these failings. On the few occasions when she did apj>ear, the young men fell in love at first sight ; but after a quadrille, or a dinner- party, became somewhat afraid of her, confiding to each other in elegant figures of speech, that she was " a clever-shaped one ; but (slow^ and not much in her." Nevertheless, it might be seen, by the earnest way they took their hats off when she THE BROOKES. 81 bowed — Avhicli sho did sonicwliat haughtily, I a(hnit — tliat they liked her to notice them. The ladies were less outspoken in their decision. They had " heard she was a very nice girl. For theii- own part, they shouldn't call her exactly handsome." It is needless, therefore, to observe, that 3Iiss Brooke's exterior was sutliciently pleas- ing in the eyes of the other sex. She was a stately looking young woman. She carried herself naturally in a more queenly ftishion than is usual with a country gentleman's daughter. She possessed what is called a veiy thorough-bred air — not that this advantage is by any means monopolised by our aristocracy — and her reserved manner was probably much increased bv the life she led, and her habit of thinking for eveiy one in the house. Her head and neck were extremely well put on, particularly when you saw her en profile. She could look very high and mighty when she drew herself up, which she was apt to do from shyness, oftener than was neces- sary ; but M'hen she bent over her work, or stooped do\\'n to caress a dog or a child, there was something very gentle and womanly in her gestures, that accorded well with the expression of VOL. I. G 82 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. lier fair low forehead, and the gentle, trustful look in her large dark eyes. Hers was not one of those faces which derive so much beauty, and that too of a very fascinating kind, from brilliancy of colouring, and mobility of feature, lltden was nearly always pale, and so calm she was almost severe ; but if in an unguarded moment a thought or feeling was jH'rmitted to express itself unre- servedly on her face, men turned ^their eyes ((uickly away, and as quickly looked at her again, in the instinctive homage the lx»ldest cannot but pay to a liigh type of feminine attraction. liud she been more liberal ol lur smiles, she might have easily claimed the championshiji — if 1 may use such an expression — in every ball-room of the shire. Had she looked at any other man as she did now from under her long dark eyelashes at her father, down he must have come, I think, unless shortsighted, or lately married, or very deeply pre-engaged — down like a wild bird, shot deftly under the wing, wounded and fluttering, and helpless at her feet ! She closed the pianoforte, and came round still with that smile on her face, to her father's chair. Wliatever Helen did was done noiselessly ; her THE BROOKES. 83 dress never rustled, aud she could even read the newspaper without crackling it. "Papa," she said, " let us put off the Dacres aud the Stoneys. There will be plenty of time for me to write a line now, before the post goes." The Squire struck both hands angrily against the anus of his chair, making a movement as if he would get upon his feet — "Put oft" the Dacrcs and the Stoneys, Helen ! Good gracious ! what are you dreaming of? Why on earth do you suppose I asked them if I'm to put them off"? You don't think I'm worse, do you ?" His voice shook painfully, but it was partly froui anger. He was easily irritated now, particu- larly when his health was alluded to. " Dear papa," persisted Helen, " you know Mrs. I)acr6 has a bad cold, and the chances are she will send an excuse at the last moment ; in which case she won't let Mm come alone. Walter is gone to Tollesdale, and he never knows when he will be back ; people like so to have him. You see, there would only be the Stoneys, and Jack, and I." " Then you count me for nothing !" exclaimed the Squire. " Considering that I have been in this G 2 84 THE HROOKES OF RKIDLEMERE. cursed cliair for — for — how long have I boon in this cursed clmir, IFclt'ii? Considering tliat it's my house, and nvj servants, and my wine, 1 thiid< I might be permitted to sit at my own table ! If the doctors think I am going to dine at two o'clock every day, they're infernally mistaken, and so I tell them! AVliy. it's not till Tuesday. I expect to get out to-morrow, if it's anything like a fine day ; and I munf go to the Kome Farm on Monday, at all risks. I suppose I may have some dinner after my walk, eh, iliden? Neither you nor the doctors are fools enongh to forbid me that! And this isn't till Tuesday I W liy, on Tut-sday, 1 expect to be nearly as well as ever I was in my life. A litth^ heavier, jiorhaps, for want of exercise ; l)nt quite strong again — ijuite strung again." Now, these dinner parties were amongst the weekly trials of Helen's life. The Squire persisted in asking his friends and neighbours to dine with him, as he used when he could sit at the end of his table, and carve his saddle of mutton, and drink his bottle of port. Ay, and jday his rubber of whist till twelve o'cloek at night. Now, early hours and complete repose were absolutely en- joined. Nor, had he been equal to the exertion THE BROOKES. 85 of eutertaining his guests, would tlie exeitemeut of their society have been permitted l»y the doctors. Nevertheless, he would take counsel with his I'hiUlrcn whom lie slioiild ask, and with his cuuk what tlicy should havo lor dinner ; and semi oft" invitations for a party of fonrt(M-'n witli tar more eagerness than he ever sliuwed wlien lie was strong and well. Ptrhaps the bustle and excite- ment of the project may have served to amuse liini, but he was nevertheless very irritable while its arrangements were pending ; very cpierulous and desponding the day alter the feast at which he had been unable to attend. It was no easy task for a young girl to preside and do the honours of a large i)arty, chiefly country neighbours, neither very bright nor very sociable ; but of this duty she acquitted herself wonderfully well, ^\'hat Helen dreaded was the effect of these Barmecide entertainments, both past tUid prospective, upon her father. It was worse, too, when Walter was away from home. That young Hussar seemed to have ac- quired an ascendancy over the Squire, such as was acknowledged by his brother officers. In the presence of his second son, Mr. Brooke was 86 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMEEE. ashamed to indulge the querulous habits of bad health, and assumed, as far as he could, the tone of a man of the world. A visit from AValter always seemed to do him good ; but on the days he felt weakest, he declined to see him ; and when he was at his worst, he liked nobody but Helen to be in the room. " So Walter is olY to Tollesdale— off to Tolles- dale," repeated the Squire, after a pause, " Quite right, quite right. Young men should go into society, good society, the best they can command. And the Waywardens are civil to Walter, are they? Popular fellow, Walter; twice the brains of Jack, eh, Helen ? .Vnd Waywarden's a good- natured man : old friend of mine, though he never comes to see me now." . His voice dropped, for he was tliinking of the days when he could beat Waywarden over a country, and shoot quicker at pheasants, and when in one of these amusements or the other, they used to meet three or four times a week. He would have taken it veiy kindly had the latter ridden over to see him a little oftener ; and his old friend would have gi'udged neither time nor distance, but that he fancied he should onlv be in THE BROOKES. 87 the way in a sick room, forgetting that the Squire, as a Christian, loved his neighbour, and none the less wliL'u that neighbour was a Peer. Mr. Brooke liked to think of Walter flourishing about amongst the^se grandees, riding as good horses and wearing as smart clothes as the best of them, though he never seemed to consider how these advantages were to be paid for, nor dreamt of increasing his younger son's allowance to meet the expenses such society entails- There are many fathers who have no scruple in pushing the earthen vessel out to swim down- stream with the iron pots, and think they have a right to be angry when it breaks and fills, and sinks to rise no more. Were it not that the iron pots, as a class, are very considerate and very good-natured, these ship^Tecks would occur far oftener than thev do, Mr. Brooke, reflecting on his own choice piece of porcelain, began to think he should like it to be present at his dinner-party. " Of course Walter will be back by Tuesday, Helen ? " said he, more cheerfully. " We shall want his help to do the honours, and talk to the young ladies. I forget who are coming, Helen. I've got your list somewhere, but I've mislaid it 88 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMEKE. King the bell, dear; or, no, put a little more wood on the fire." Helen stirred the logs into a flame, as usual, to please him ; then she went over, lor the twentieth time siiiee luneheou, the roll of invited guests. The Smiths, who couldn't come ; the Greens, who hadn't sent an answer ; the Dacres, who were doubtful ; and lastly, the Stoneys, who had ac- cepted, " with thanks." A dinner-party in the country is apt to prove a failure from the difficulty of getting your forces together at the last moment. Like an invading army, its available strength is fur less than that which it shows ou paper. In London, you send out your invitations three weeks beforehand, and the invited come as solemnly, as tardily, and ap- parently as unwillingly, as they would to pay any other just and unavoidable debt. IMoreover, the gaps between your couples are filled with pro- fessional diners-out — men who make a regular business of the thing, and whose conversation, cut fresh from the evening paper and the topics of the afternoon, will no more keep till to-morrow than the flowers in your epergne. Therefore, if they are ahve, come they will, and you need fear THE BROOKES. 89 no far-fetched excuses to disappoiut you at the last moment. I do not mean to say that the entertainment is likely to be cool, roomy, comfortable, or in any way particularly ])leasant ; but it is pretty sure to take place, and there is an end of it ; whereas, in the country, you may lose four of your party at once on the day itself by such a trilling casualty as the breaking of a spring, or the illness of a coach-horse. If it is a frostv niirht, vom- richest elderly lady probably fails you from slieer pol- troonery ; if a thaw, yoiu* handsomest and most eligible young man is likely to be wading up a muddy lane with a tired hunter a dozen miles off, when he ought to be simpering over his soup plate at your dinner-table. The imdertaking is beset with difficidties ; and even if it succeeds, in nine cases out of ten, it proves one of the many games which are not worth the candle that lights tliem. Helen never argued with nor contradicted her father. She let him run on and exhaust his petulance unopposed, returning, as it wore itself out, with the gentle persistency of woman, again and again to the attack. 90 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. " Walter will be back the end of the week," she said. " If we could put off the dinner-party, papa, we might make sure of having him to help us." " I don't require any help ! " answered the Squire, quickly. "Still, Walter makes himself agreeable, and brings us all the news. And you say the Dacres won't come, you think, Helen ? " " Sure not, papa," was the rei>ly ; " ^\v all k-now what Mrs. I>acre's colds are: they mean, *I won't take any trouble about anything for a fort- night.' " The Squire wavered. Still he could not at once rrlinquish the idea of his dinner-part v. It was a sort of pyint cCappui for his jwor, weak, helpless, vacillating mind. " But there are the Stoneys," said he ; " three of them, for I told you to ask Philip particularly. Did you ask Philip particularly, Helen ?" She had turned to make the fire up again. " Yes, papa," she answered ; " I wrote him a separate note in your name." " Three of them," mused Mr. Brooke. " I don't think we can put three of them off. It is not as if we had only asked two. What should you say, THE BEOOKES. 91 Helen ? Don't you think it would seem very odd, it" wo put three of them off ? " But Helen was firm. Ho had come round, as usual, to hor way of tliinking, by imperceptible degi'ees, and thought ho had converted her to his own opinion. 80 she lit the candles on the writing-table, and sat down to her task, taking great pains, as ladies do, witli the penmanship and superscription of her letters, and composing, as her father desired, a particular and separate note to Mr. Philip Stoney. CilArTEll IV. STONE Y BROTHERS. b^ all tlie llirt.s iu and al)Oiit ^liildles- wortli, I iloubt it' there was one who c'ouUl bear corn|>arison with a young hilly nuw uccupyiijg the liearth-rug at the feet of riiilip Stoney, divested of his shooting dress, clean, huugiy, and waiting for the important hoTir of dinner. That this person was four years of a^e, wearing her legs bare, likewise her shoulders, and her frock in as untidy a state as constant revision by mamma and nm-se would permit, is simply an aggravation of the charge, inasmuch as dishevelment and general disorder of costume did but enhance the pecuh'ar style of coquetry which she found ii-resistible by many of her own, and all of the opposite sex. STONEY BROTHERS. 93 Without being a pretty child, except in so far as hcaltliy chiklren cannot help being pretty, rosy cheeks and dancing eyes, and an ini^mdent nose, with a profusion of curling brown hair, imparted to this little lady quite pretension enough on which to found a dynasty tliat had grailually usurped dominion over the whole house. That she had a Christian name I assume from |)re- sumptive sponsorial evidence, aiVurded by a fairy- like fork and spoon, with a red case, also a silver toast-and-water mug in her possession. But such baptismal appellation was entirely superfluous, inasmuch a^ nobody, in or out of the family, ever dreamed of calling her anything but '' Dot ;" and a very troublesome, quaint, and noisy little per- sonage Dot could be, at no time more so than at the period, " Between the dark and tlie daylight, Which is called the children's hour." Philip was warming himself (like an English- man) at the fire. Dot sat on the hearth-rug at his feet. She brandished a pair of scissors (points blunted for tiimily use), and was cutting a paper pattern of mamma's into a device which it had 94 TEE BROOKES OF RRIDLEMERE. by no means been origriniiHy intended to re- present. After an unbroken silence of some thirty seconds, Dot looked up. " Uncle riiil," said she, shakinji: the curls off her face, " when am I to l)o your wife ?" This was a matrimonial armngement long since concluded, and now established as a matter of course by the ladv, with whom, indeed, it orifd- nated. " Not at all, D«»t," answered Uncle I'liil. " I am afraid of umlertaking the j<»b. I've changed my mind. " Are you going to have another wife ?" asked Dot, very graciously, and quite unmoved by her favourite's inconstancy. Philip smiled, and smothered a sigh, while he thought how unHkely such an event was ; and Dot proceeded with the utmost gravity : "Because, mamma said this morning that Phil was too gcMxl to be a hachddore, and when I asked what a bachddore was, she said papa was one before he manied. And I thought, perhaps, you would be good enough for me to be your wife very soon, and then we could go to that place you STONEY BRUTUERS. 95 told me of, where the beasts are, like my Noab's Ark." • Dot had idready a very feminine notion of a wedding tri|>, comhining, as far as jiraetiralde, amusement with romance. Every child lias its own- ideal region of enchantment, and Dot's Utopia was ''where the beasts were, like her Noah's Ark." Uncle IMiil sat down, and his torment, reaching his knee at a bound, proceeded to the constant and never-iailiug resource of opening and shutting his watch. " We'll see about it, Dot," Siiid he, smoothing the glossy head. " I think the beasts would all be afraid of you ; you're such a little vrxen." "What's a vixen ?" asked Dot. ''Wind it up, uncle I'hil ! What's a vixen?" she repeated, with a quick look in his face. " Ls Jane one ? Is mamma a vixen ? " Philip laughed outright. "Here she comes, Dot," said he ; " you had better ask her yourself;" and the words were scarce out of his mouth, ere Dot, whose motions were like quicksilver, had made a dive at mamma, and was lost in the ample folds of that ladv's gown. Auvthing less like a Of) THE BROOKES OF BRIDI.EMERE. vixen tliaii ^Frs. (ieorpfo Stoney n>uleen always nursing, yet her ap|)earance never failed to suggest a general idea of nutrition ; and hor demeanour, with its heavy, languid step, and slow im{>osing gestures, was a happy combination of tho matronly and the im|K'rial. Her conversation, ttincti\X'ly. and at random, without in the least coinpn-hending the ])urport of a single question adilressed. AVith men, ^Frs, Stoney was rather poj)ularthan tithcrwisc. Tla-y uilmired her lint' piiints, ami laughed good-humouredly at her line jdnases, ignoring their misaj>plieation. or setting down hur mistakes, as they will, to the score of feminine ignorance and incapacity. Amongst her own sex, opinions as to lur merits varied in aeconhmce with the social standing of those wlio broached them. The poor thought her "a noble lady," as iudeetl they had good cause. The tradespeople considered " she gave herself airs to which she was not entitled ;" for this class of persons only toler- ate and even admire bad manners, when covered with a coronet The doctor's sister, the rector's lady, and one or two neighbouring h^quiresses voted her "a vulgar, trapesing woman, and just what they expected from the first;*' whilst Lady W^iywarden, I fear, ignored her altogether, and VOL. I. H 98 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. none the less loftilv, that Waywarden, some years at^'u, had been heard to dechire at a ]\IirMlos\vortli ball, she was " out-and-out, the handsomest woman in the room ! " Mrs. George Stoney, however, })erniitted htTsi'lf to be but little affected by the suffrages of her neiglilx)urs. What with marketing, shopping, the production and sustenance of infants, the unpick- ing of dresses, tlie supervision of servaHts, and the struggle for supremacy with Dot, time did not hang heavy on her hands. All the languor she indulged in was confined to her mannci-s, and she could bustle about bclow-stairs, on occasion, with a vigour and activity quite remarkable in so ample and majestic a personage. Dot was devoted to her. She herself thought she was the only per- son who kept Dot in order, but to this opinion the latter did by no means subscribe, and the question was tried at least half-a-dozen times a day, usually with the same result, a signal and complete victory on the part of the child. Philip got On admirably with his sister-in-law, perhaps for the very reason, that no two people could be less alike in every respect, and altogether, no more united family sat down to diimcr in Middles- STOXEY BROTHERS. 99 worth than that which surroimded tlie dining- table of tlie comfortable vilUi inhabited by Stoney Brothers. "George is late," remarked his wife, ringing the bell with one large white hand, and imprison- ing Dot with the other. *' lie has not been in ten minutes, but it never takes him long to make hi.s toilet. He's an elegant figure, George ; and the children take after him. He'll be here before the soup now. Dot ! will you leave the fire-irons alone?" Dot's attention was at this juncture fortunately arrested by the simultaneous entrance of papa, who was always an attraction, and the soup, borne by a clean, tidy looking parlour-maid, whose con- nection witli a certain store-room, and the jam thereto belonging, gave her opinions considerable weight amongst the inhabitants of the nursery. It was at her instance that Dot consented to be removed, ostensibly to superintend the putting to bed of her juniors ; and as the young lady was replaced by a tureen of hot soup, the three sat down to dinner in considerable comfort and tran- quillity. George Stoney was several years older than his brother. He had the worn and somewhat H 2 100 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMEItE. subdued air of a man whose whole life has been spent in the toils of business, in work not adapted to his tastes, and that taxed his powers to tlie utmost. There are two sorts of men in trade, equally energetic, perhaps, and etjually successful, but who wear their good fortune, as Ophelia says of hor rue, "with a dilTerence." Those to whom business is their natural element, thrive and grow fat upon it ; they are younger and fresher men of their years than the British yeoman himself. But the others, who put their shoulders j>erhaps no less assiduously to the wheel, yet who cannot cheat themselves into the belief that labour and pleasure are convertible terms, who do the drudgery, and do it thoroughly, but only because it must be done to })av the premiums on their life-assurances for wife and children ; who stand at the desk, when they would fain be breasting a mountain, and long for the saddle, while perched high on an office- stool; these men have thin hands and hollow voices, weak hair, streaked with grey before its time, a stoop in the shoulders, marked lines about the mouth, and, Oh ! such a wistful look in the weary, weary eyes, as if they longed so for rest, that they would be content to find it even in the STONEY BROTHERS. 101 grave. George Stoney was active, paiustakiiig, intelligent, but his natural element was leisure cind retirement. He would, probably, have been equally successful as a scholar, had his lot been cast amongst a difterent kind of books from those which he compared and posted so carefully ; un- questionably he would have looked ten years younger, and he would certainly have been a happier man. Refined in character, cautious, and a little indolent of disposition, shrinking almost sensitively from everything noisy, exaggerated, or in bad taste, averse even to so much of strife as must constitute the necessary comjK'tition of trade, he was a dreamer — almost a poet in heart : though externally, both in dress, manner, and luibits, as jirosaic a personage as it is possible even for the British raerrhant to be. Such a man was sure to marrv a woman of far coarser mental texture than his own, and, having married her, was equally sure to abandon the reins of government to her grasp as far as she liked to possess them. Intel- lect, from its' very nature, is too often hampered by facility of character and love of ease ; such a combination cannot but give way when opposed 102 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. to a firm and tliifk-skinned disposition ; strong in its will as its aifections, regardless of those nicer shades of feeling which do not practically affect its well-being, and rejoicing in that usefnl self-con- fidence, which, however unwarranted, is so often justified by results. It is only fair to say, how- ever, that in the present instance, the lady con- fined her energies to domestic sway. She never interfered with the business, and the brewery was conducted, unquestionably, by the firm of Stoney Brothers, tliough inside the villa ^Irs. George's word was law. This brewery, then, well known, long esta- blished, and ministering to the thirst of more than half the villages in the county, was considered to be the best business doing in the town of Middlesworth. Its magnificent greys were to be seen at all hours resting their nose-bags to feed on each other's backs. Its waggons clattered and jingled along the ill-paved streets, waking the echoes and shaking the windows as they rolled by. Its draymen, jolly and gigantic, were walking advertisements of the stuff on which they fiourished, and " Stoney's Entire " seemed synony- mous with John Barleycorn himself. STONEY BKOTHERS. 103 For many years the firm had done well, and amassed considerable profits in a dark, mysterious- looking bnilding, far down a by-street, through which it was a miracle liow the waggons and the greys, and the draymen ever wound their way ; but the sj)irit of enterprise had of late prompted Stoney Brothers to quit their old premises, and erect a magnificent pile of classical proportions in the most frequented part of the town, where gi"eys and thays, and waggoners, should be permanently quartered, and which should become the colossal emporium, as it were, and fountain-head, of the very strongest beer (for the money), that could be brewed by the power of steam. Old grey-headed tradesmen who remembered Middlesworth before the days of railroads, " small profits, and quick returns " men — who ate and slept in their places of business, and were proud of it; who "kept the shop as the shop kept them," looked vdih no favourable eyes on the new brewery, sagaciously opining that Stoney Brothers were " reaching their hands out further than they could draw them back again ;" but the vounirer division of the mercantile interest — the 104 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMEKE. modern class of shopkeeijers — apju-oved mucli of the whole proceeding, and Mr. Dowlas, the draper, an eloquent person, with a taste for public speaking and Mechanics' Institutes, declared it was " refreshing to ^vitness such a bold and com- prehensive spirit of entor]iriso. which deserved, even if it failed, to command success !" There was one person, however, who could not brinij himself to entertain these sanji;uine views of the new undertaking, on whose peace of mind the huge erection seemed to press, witli tlic sj)ecilic weight of the very bricks and mortar of which it was composed. George Stoney had hjoked, if possible, graver and Avearier than ever, since the foundations of the building had been laid. It was only after long consideration that he had given his consent to its commencement, after carefully inspecting the plans, and reducing the estimates, and calculating the expense. AVhon fiiirly begun, nobodv could have shown more enera'v and activity in furthering its completion ; but even Mrs. Stoney observed that George grew quieter — " more absorbed in thought," she called it — day by day; and Dot, standing on papa's knee, and taking stock, as usual, of his eyebrows, whiskers, STONEY BROTHERS. 105 &c., was delighted to find how many more of those " nice white hairs " she could discover every time she looked for them. To your own fomily your symptoms are never so alarming as to strangers. Meeting you every day, changes are to them imperceptible, which your visitors, as they drive away, tell each other " they were quite shocked to perceive." Illness is like age. You fondly imagine, the man you shave to- day is very like what he was when you began to shave him thirty years ago ; and the wife of your bosom, if always with you, never looks older than when she was a bride. Thus the gradual dechne from indisposition to weakness, and from weak- ness to ill-hoaltli, is only observed by your doctor. And when the inmates of your house- hold begin to see a dilference m your appearance, depend upon it, the last change of all is not very far off. At the dinner-table, the conversation was principally between Philip and his sister-in-law. The latter moistening her remarks pretty plenti- fully with the beer of the firm, as indeed she had a good right, from conviction of its excellence, and conscious want of its sustaining power within. 106 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE, There was no ostentation about the repast, but all its accessories were close at hand without the trouble of asking: for them. The linen was soft and white, the plates too hot to hold, the silver shone, the glass sparkled, and the dumb-waiter was scarcely quieter, or more indis[)ensable than the noiseless parlour-maid, mIio removed and changed the dishes with each succeeding course. That parlour-maitl's ribbons always loo'lced new. For the first month, Jitr mistress vowed daily, "Jane wouldn't suit," on the score of being " dressy ;" but Jane's clean hands and willing face, and tidy, active ways, soon gained for her the rei)utation of being " a treasure." Dot, too, entertiiined morbid feelings alx)ut her merits. "Altogether," as she wrote to her sister, "the place was suitable, and she had no intentions of leaving of it." Mrs. Stoney looked very ample and handsome, dispensing the good things before her to her hus- band and his brother. Neither of them, to use her own expression, " took as much animal food " as she thought good for them. Her own idea was, that the more a man ate and drank, the stronger he must necessarily become. She would have STONET BROTHERS. 107 liked to feed her husband as often as she did tlie baby in possession. George Stoney, lifting his liead hmguidly to dooline any more of liis own beer, was admonished, that " if he woukl neither eat nor drink at dinner, he must promise to take two or three glasses of good wine afterwards. " If once you let the system down," argued 31rs. Stoney, " every medical man will tell you he can- not answer for the consequences. Look at me ; I'm sure I can't think whatever I should do witli- out my beer. Philip there is afraid of his waist, I know, but you've no need to be apprehensive on that score, George. Your dancing days are over, my dear ; something like my own." Mrs. Stoney was fond of asserting her matronly exemption from the delights of the dance ; claim- ing privilege on the score of superannuation, which it was pleasant to hear indignantly denied. This self-depreciation, too, was pm-ely theoretical ; inas- much as she liked nothing better than to swim through a quadrille, with the majestic and imposing progress of a first-class ship under easy sail ; and my own impression is, that she abstained from waltzing, less fi-om a sense of decorum, than a specific gravity of person, which rendered that 108 THE BROOKES OF DIUDLEMERE. measure too ltil)ori()Us and breatliless an eftbrt for recreation, and only to be risked on gi-eat occa- sions, once or twice a year. "I've other things than dancing to attend to," said her husband, abstractedly ; " and if I liadn't, IJell," he added, with a sniik', " 1 don't think Middlesworth is much of a phice for that amuse- ment." * " I dechire if he hasn't forgottrn our ball ! " ex- cdaimed ^Irs. George, cUi|ti»ing lu-r luinds with a peal of laugliter, and turning tt» her brothrr-in- law. "Now, that's George all over. I'll under- take to say ymCve been tliinking about it, Philip, more than enough, and are engaged, a dozen deep beforehand, witli all the prettiest partners in the town. Ah, it's a great pleasure, is a ball, to younf>' l)eople! though there's many a heart-ache comes from it afterwards ; and a head-ache, too," added she reflectively, " if 3Ir. Driblet iurnishes the champagne, as usual, at supper." " Both are easily got rid of," answered Philip. '* and both are easily avoided, if a man knows what he's about. You needn't dance, if you can't take care of your heart ; and you needn't drink champagne, if you're not sure of your stomach." STONEY BROTHERS. 109 " If I was a man, I'd run my chance of both," replied Mrs. George Stoney. " Notliing venture, nothing have ! Phil ; and, ' faint heart never won fair h\dy.' But you don't get oft' so easily from our jMiddleswortli lialls. London parties may be better, and more crowded, if you come to tliat ; but nobody shall persuade me they can be more genteel." " I know nothing about London," said Philip, who semed a little restless and inclined to change the subject. " I am not much of a judge in such matters, but these seem well enough in their way." " Well enough in their way ! " echoed his sister- in-law. *' Why, George, did you ever hear anything like that?" "Anything like what?" asked her husband, waking up from a dreaming fit, and relapsing without waiting for an answer ; while his wife, who was used to his abstraction, continued the conver- sation without him. " I'm sure, Philip, I wonder what you'd have, if these balls are not good enough for you. I've seen a good deal of life in my time, as a girl, you know, Phil, before I married your brother. The very first people, both from the barracks 110 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. and tlic dock-yard, were always welcome in my father's house : but if you ask me, I declare I don't know when I've set eyes on so many elegantly dressed females, and gentlemen of really fasliionable exterior, as attended our ]\liddlesworth ball this time last year. xVnd it's been the same ever since I've known the town. If it wasn't for what I call the * stuck-np set,' who always will get by themselves at the top end of the room, there'd be nothing equal to our balls — nothing!" Mrs. Stoney flourished her large well-shaped hand and arm, with a gesture that seemed to defy contradiction. " I've seen some very handsome people at that end too," observed Philip, with a little malice, and a slight accession of colour in his cheek. " Lady Julia kept her whole party there last year, and they say that she is reckoned quite a beauty, even in London." " I've no patience with her ! " exclaimed Mrs. Stoney ; " nor her mother neither. I blame Lady Waywarden far more than the girl ; though, if you ask me, I think Lady Julia is rather inclined to be a romp. Such airs and graces, indeed ! If we're not good enough to be in the same room STONE Y BROTHERS. Ill with them, wliy do they come, I should like to know ; I'm sure nobody wants 'em ! " This last assertion was somewhat inconsequent, inasmuch as these offenders contributed, at least, one-third of the ball-goers ; and if they had ab- stained from attending, because " nobody wanted them," the assembly would have been shorn of a large and very ornamental portion of its attrac- tions. The grievance, however, was of long stand- ing. Mrs. Stoney said no more than the truth, when she declared it to be one of which she " could not speak with patience ; " moreover, it be- came year by year more confirmed amongst its originators, and more offensive to the rest of the society. The Town Hall, wherein these solemnities were held, though a lofty and lengthy room, was, un- fortunately, but of scanty width. The musicians' gallery, equally distant from both ends, and front- ing an enormous fire-place, from before which the shy men were knocked out of time in about five minutes, almost divided it into two different apart- ments ; and in the one of these, furthest from the door, the countv families had contracted a habit of congregating, huddled together Like starlings 112 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. in a nor' wester, and offering considerable social difficulties to such adventurous youths as might desire to extricate their partners from the flock. It was in vain the townspeojde, with Mrs. 8toney at their head, strove to form an opposition gather- ing of their own, and took possession of the other end, leaving a clear space in the midst, as though for some exhibition of posture-making or leger- demain. I'his only niadc matters woKse. Few ladies, and still fewer gentlemen, ventured to cross the Debat cable Land ; and, instead of a festive gathering, these assemblies began to assume the aspect of an imjicnding buttk' between opposing armies, with Amazons in the front rank. i\Irs. Stoney, indeed, had, on one occasion, reaped a signal and unexpected triumph. It was when Lord Waywarden, the most good-humoured and unaffected of men, who could hardly have been made to understand the dithculty, had it been explained to him, deliberately left his ranks, and selecting her from the opposition for a partner, led her triumphantly to the top of a quad- rille at his own end of the room, where she had a Marquis for a vis-a-vis — an arrangement she did by no means dislike. STONEY BROTHERS. 11') Nevertheless, such victories are too often fatal as defeats. The English fine ladv can be the best bred woman in the world. It does not follow that she always is. When she means to bo rude, she draws the bow with less comjmnction, and points her shafts more accurately, and more mercilessly from behind the shield of conventionality than any other archer in the battle. Ere Mrs. Stoney had swum through her quadrille, with no less, be sure, than her accustomed majesty, she wished in her heart she had never left the other end of the room, ^yomen have a way of making each other • uncomfortable, wliich the stupider sex can neither appreciate nor understand ; and thuuj::li Mrs. George carried her crest bravely through the figures, and did not lower an eyelash, under Lady Waywarden's cold, contemptuous stare, she waa very glad to get back to her own party at the con- clusion ; and from that night hated the '• stuck-up set " more than ever. "Take away, Jane," said she to the parlour- maid, who had re-entered with dessert ; and after whispering certain injunctions, of which the words *' bed " and " Miss Dot " were alone audible, she turned to Philip, and resumed the subject that VOL. I. I 114 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. about this time of year was generally uppermost in her mind. "There's beauty enough, and to spare, Thil," said she, smoothing her own glossy bands of hair on her temples ; "and this winter there will be more than ever ; though, to be sure, I don't think much of the new people at the Poplars ; and I don't see what there is in that ]\[rs. Dacre to make a fuss about. If she didn't get her dreSSes straight from Paris, she'd be positively plain, to my fancy. Don't you think so, Phil ? " Phil had not thought about it ; scarcely know- ing Mrs. Dacre, indeed, by sight ; so he said " Yes," with a clear conscience, and ^Irs. George pursued her criticisms, well satisfied. " Lady Julia will be there, I suppose, as usual ? She's a good figure of a girl, and a sweet dresser, Phil — there's no denying that ; but she'U never have her father's elegant manners ; and I'm certain she's freckled when you're close to her. I declare, if she would only seem a little more unbending, there are none of them to beat my favourite, that dark-eyed Miss Brooke. Don't you think Miss Brooke is a very handsome, aristocratic looking girl ? " STONEY BROTHERS. 115 But Philip's answer, if he made one, was lost in the wine-glass at his lips, for the subject was liere brought to an abrupt termination by the appari- tion of Dot, rosy and tumbled, closely pursued by the parlour-maid, and obviously glowing with excitement from some overt act of successful re- bellion. The young lady's costume, too, was of the sim- plest and easiest. It consisted of a long white cotton garment, clinging closely round her slender little figure, and making it look absurdly limp and pliant. Her feet were bare, and her curls scattered over her shoulders. It was evident, even without Jane's disapproving face, that she had been permanently put to bed, and had jumped uji again. ''HaUoo! Dot!" "Why here's Dot!" suffi- ciently expressed her father's and uncle's as- tonishment, while mamma's " Now Dot ! " denoted more displeasure than surprise. AMiisking round the table, and dodging out of Jane's grasp, like an eel, the child sprang to Uncle Phil's knee, and explained her appearance with perfect frank- ness, and an air of determined resistance to injustice. I 2 IIC) THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. " My camel ! my camel ! " urged Dot, intensely in earnest. " I've said my prayers, and I've had my hail- done, and I've been a good little girl ; and I can't go to bed without my camel ! " Jane here felt called upon to explain. " Miss Dot was veiy partial to her camel " (a rare speci- men out of her Noah's Ark, resembling, now the paint was worn off, no known creature upon earth), " and couldn't never be got to bed without it " — u position the rebel seemed resolved to maintain : clasping Uncle Phil firmly round the neck, and from that point of vantage eyeing her ])ursuer with a comical expression of triumph and defi- ance. It was evidently a case where nothing but mamma's interference could prove of the slightest avail. Mrs. Stoney accordingly rose from the table, and quietly carried off the intruder in her arms, the latter glancing roguishly at Uncle Phil, over the maternal shoulder, and clenching her little fist on the regained treasure, which even in the moment of capture she had spied out, and picked off the hearth-rug, where she had been playing with it before dinner. " After a storm comes a calm," observed George STONE Y BROTHERS. 117 Stoney, pusliing the decanter over to his brother, and relapsing into silence. Soon he looked up. "Those are my reasons, Phil," said he, reverting to Dot and her companions in the nursery, " for being so cautious. I some- times think I'm not cautious enough for a man who has a wife and family dependent on his life almost for bread." Philip knew well what was in his elder brotlier's mind. The latter could not bring himself to the belief that they had acted prudently in buikling the new brewery. " It's nearly finished," said Philip in a hearty, cheery voice, answering his brother's thoughts rather than his words. " Nearly finished, and as good as paid for, in my opinion. I showed you the calculations I made yesterday. Look how the business will increase ; why, in six months it will have doubled itself. In five years the capital \vill be paid up, and there you are with the fore-horse well by the head, as our people say — a rich man for good and all." "Five years is a long time," replied George, looking thoughtfully into his glass. " Life's un- certain. I'm not such a hard fellow as you, Phil ; 118 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. and a good deal older into the bargain. Suppose I don't last five years ? " " Stuff and nonsense ! " exclaimed the other. '* You'll last fifty ! Besides," he added in a tone of deep feeling, " I shall not be quite penniless. My share is a pretty good thing — at least, / think so, I can tell you. Then, if worst came to worst, d'ye think you're fonder of the cliildren than I am ? And Isabella hjis something, though it isn't' much, of her own. Your life's insured, too. 1 )on't croak, old bov ! What are vou tliinkiuf}: of? " " That reminds me," observed George, more cheerfidly, " we ought to insure the new place, now it's so nearly finislied. I meant to speak to vou al)0ut it to-dav, before vou went to Bridle- mere." "I've thought of that, too," answered Philip, joyfully. " We'll do it next week. Save a quarter's insurance ; don't you see, George ? Oh, trust me for looking after the main chance ! " " You're a better man of business than I am," replied the elder brother, '"though I've had so much more experience. And you think the venture is sure to turn out successfullv ; don't vou Phil?" STONEY BROTHERS. 119 " Not a doubt of it," answered tlie latter confi- dently. " No more wine, George, thank you. Yes, I will ; I'll have one glass, to drink " Good luck to the new brewery, and success to Stoney Brothers ! " George put a little sherry into the bottom of his glass, and pledged the hopeful toast. Neverthe- less, the confidence was only forced in him, which was spontaneous in his brother. Their characters were diflferent, both by nature and from the force of circumstances. Philip not only possessed the buoyant hope and energy of a young man who had never yet known serious disappointment ; but he had also a resolute, and somewhat enterprising' spirit, prone to adventure, and not to be deterred by the rebuffs of fortune. A thorough woman, the goddess is to be won both by readiness and persis- tency. Philip could repair a failure, as well as take advantage of a chance. At present, too, he seemed even more than ever to be working: "with a will." He wanted no holidays now, except, it may be, for an occasional dav's shootino^ at Bridlemere. Mrs. George began to suspect that this desire of money making must originate in something be- sides a love of independence for its own sake. 120 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. Her husband was not given to speculate on any- thing save future reverses in trade ; nevertheless, he, too, observed tliat riiili|) was never tired of talking "shop," Business seemed now to be the subject upjiermost in liis mind at all seasons. To the very threshold of their pri-tty drawing- room — in which Mrs. Stoney, having put Dot and her camel to bod, was waiting toa for thorn — he urged the advantage of taking Jem lluttors into their employment, at a somewhat lower rate of wages than the regular tarilT; and even while the door 0})ened she heard her husband's quiet melan- cholv tones remindin;; his brother of the insurance, and the hitter's triumphant rejoinder, that he had saved a quarter's interest — "A whole quarter's in- terest, George, by not being in too great a hurr)'!" ^^^^^u^, CHAPTER V. TOLLESDALE. EED I make excuses for reverting to tlie subject of dinner — that principal event in the recurrinjr dav ? From the acoru- eating age of the savage to the great discovery of truffles ; from the Ived Indian wlio loosens his hunger-belt, and goes in for a gorge on juicy hump and oily marrow off the fresh-killed buffalo, to the dandy (no longer very young), starched, curled, and perfumed, who sits down to twenty dishes, with no appetite, but tastes of each in turn, stimulated by dry champagne ; all times and all classes have agreed to regard dinner as an Institution, to establish it as the axis round which tne whole twenty-four hours revolve. 122 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. Nor must it necessarily be an extremely plenteous or elaborate repast. A crust of bread and cheese under a hedgje ; a sandwich (mustard forgotten) on the heather ; a mutton chop, with another "to follow" — these simple provisions are competent, on occasion, and when nothing better can be had, to fill the place of a royal banquet, and aflbrd as much satisfaction to the con- sumer as turtle and venison. There are but two conditions exacted for the sacrifice — the priest must be luniirrv and the oflerinjj clean. Then is there no necessity for great preparation, or " apparatus." Say grace, fall to, and if you cannot get a sip of sliorry, or a glass of claret, or even a teaspoonful of alcohol, as a digestive, make the best of it, and finish off with a smoke. I know not why the very j>eople for whom this important meal is an aftair of the greatest cere- mony, who take the most pains to have it good, and when they do get it, spend the most time in its discussion, should put it off as long as they possibly can. The Stoneys were adjourning for tea at eight o'clock. It was a quarter past before the party at Tollesdale had fairlv sat down to dinner. Nor, TOLLESDALE. 123 indeed, was their complement made up even at tliat late hour. Jack Brooke's was a capital pony, no doubt ; and Walter did not spare him as he galloped from tlie barracks. A good-looking young man, who wears his own hair and teeth, who does not require to curl his whiskers, and whose clothes are supplied (on credit) by the tailor most in vogue, ouirht to be able to dress for dinner in twenty- five minutes. Nevertheless, Walter contrived to make his entrance, and his bow to liis hostess, as the soup disappeared, and sank into the seat re- served for him by Lady Waywarden, without thinking it necessary to excuse himself. Apologies in these days are never offered for anything ; and a good deal of trouble is, perhaps, saved by their abolition. They would have been insincere, too, in the present instance, for Walter was late on purpose. He was a dandy, you see ; and a certain affectation, properly toned down, was in keeping with the character. You must have attained your social position, whatever it may be, before you cease to care about it, and can aflbrd to be natural. A man who wants to be thought wiser, or better, or i-icher than he is, can never quite dispense with sundry little artifices, sufficiently transparent to 121 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMEltE. those who know how much is done in socif^tv for effect. In Walter's case, however, it is onlv fair to sav, tlie effect was voiy rrood. Even Ladv Waywar- den admitted thut he was ''a ,i,'-entlcman-like, agreeable young man ;" and her ladyship was l)y no means given to over-rate the social (juah'ties of her fellow-creatures. She had the happy knack, too, of letting them feel that she made 'allowances, because so thoroughly satisfied of their inferidrity ; and this pleasant quality, eond)ined witli a stately ligure and icy demeanour, rendered her a formid- able personage even in London, and the terror of tlie whole country round .Middlesworth. She had been a beauty, in days when men ad- mired a beauty, and women hated her more than they do now, Tlie very mob cheered when she leant forward in the carriage at the bottom of St. James's Street, on her wav to lier first Urawinf^ Room. They talked about her in the clubs the day she was presented, and took odds about *' the double event " of Sal Volatile winning the Oaks, and her marrying the only disengaged duke, before Goodwood, She had very regular features, a beautiful skin, and an expression of countenance TOLLESDALE. 125 denoting utter indifference to everything in the workl. I don't believe she bhished when Lord Waywarden proposed to her (he had recently succeeded to the earldom), and 1 think she said " Yes^ "with as little emotion as if ho had offered her a cup of tea. I'eople whispered there was "' a cousin in India, that she used to like ;" hut I consider this mere gossip. Indeed, unless he had been Governor-General, I am convinced " a cousin in India " would have stood but a poor chance. At forty. Lady Waywarden had lost all preten- sions to beauty. She looked the Countess (though she was a Commoner's daughter), and that was all. Like other tine ladies, she was active in mind, indolent in body. Though she spent the mornings in bed, and never walked a quarter of a mile from the hall-door, she did a great deal of good amongst her poor, and did it, too, in the most judi- cious, energetic and discriminating way ; though she never pitied people, she was always ready to assist them ; and much of her voluminous corre- spondence was occasioned by the public charities and benevolent associations, to which she was a generous and never-failino- contributor. Way- Vf'arden was very fond of her, and let her do 126 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. exactly as she pleased. He was right : coercion had never been tried witli tliis lady ; and it is likely that hers would have been a very difficult spirit to control. The dinner party consisted oi' live — })«rhaps I might say six, including Mr. Silke, the groom of the chambers ; an important })ersonage of relined appearance, whose duty seemed to consist in listen- ing to everything that was said, and t)ccasionally offering peojde sherry when th«>y did not want it. There were a good many more servants, both in and out of livery, who waited as quietly as only very gooil servants can. His lordship was ex- tremely particular, you see, and prided himself on the excellence of liis domestic arrangements. There was only one house in England, he boasted, where " the thing " was as well done as at ToUes- dale. However disguised, Lord "Waywarden could never have been taken for anN-thing but a gentle- man. Though he was shurt, broad-shouldered, and of a very powerful build, there was something in the carriage of his handsome bald head ; something in his bold, pleasant Saxon face ; something in his frank, straiglitforward and collected manner. TOLLESDALE. 127 peculiar to the English nobleman. There is no class that combines so much of manliness with so much of refinement. Their bodies are vigorous, though their minds are cultivated ; and the same individuals who are distinguished as scholars, statesmen, and dij)loraatists, have physical power to load coals or dig potatoes ; and physical courage — " pluck " as it is now called — to do anything that can be attempted by man. Nothing could be more different, however, than his lordship's outward appearance before and after half-past seven o'clock, p.m. Li tho morning, from the top of his low-crowned white hat to the nails in his heavy double-soled shoes, he dressed the practical agriculturist to the life. He had been a sportsman in his day, and could handle a gim still as well as most men ; but he was now devoted heart and soul to the farm. Hour after hour he would trudge about his acres, heedless of wind and weather, intent only on draining, top- dressing, or turnips; and rejoicing in the very gavour of the dung-heaps that smoked at regular intervals over the brown and wealthy soil. He could cheapen bullocks, too, at fair or market, and not a drover on the road would have let him pick 128 THE BROOKES OF liKlDLEMERE. from liis strafrirHiig charge, at tlic average price overhead of the herd. He could calculate the wool on a sheej), vr the weight of u fat pig, at a glauce ; and his tenants alHrmed tiiat " my lord could buy e'er a one of 'om at one end of Middles- wortii market, and sell iiim at the other! " From his nine o'clock hreakfast till he returned healthy, hapi)y, and hungry at night, he was the farmer all over: but with the starched white neck-doth, and portly white waisteoat, came a transformation ; and at his own table no man could be more courtly, more ])olished, nor ]non> agreeable than Lord Waywarden. Walter was rather a favourite. My lord was so used to dandies, he did not mind them ; and had, besides, a natural liking for one whom he had known from childhood, and who was the son of his old friend and neighbour, poor bcflridden Squire Brooke. Frank and genial in his nature, ho would enjoy his bottle of claret over the fire when the ladies left them after dinner, none the less that his guest was more than five-and-twenty years his junior, and must necessarily consider him ''an old fogey " in his heart. It appears then that the guest was by no means TOLLESDALE. 129 ill an enemy's country. Lord Waywarden liked hiiu because be was used to liiiu ; Lady Way- warden liked him because he was not afraid of her ; and here I may observe, tliat WalUr iVart'd no woman on earth. This iininunity he had obtained at considerable personal sacrifice, by his former intimacy with the well-known ^Irs. ]\rajor 8ha- bracque, late of the Dancing Hussars, a dashing lady, who rode, drove, dresseil, rouged, gambled, flirted, and, I believe, smoked ; adding to these dubious tastes tlie more rejirehcusible pursuit of breaking-in raw cornets to the ways of the N\urld, almost as fi^st as they joined. People said she had rather burnt her fingers with young Brooke, and took to liking Jam, when she only meant he should like her. But it seems improbable th.it a bold, brazen dame, of five-and-thirty, with the animal spirits and great experience of Mrs. Sha- bracque, should ever have played a losing hazard, except as a matter of calculation in the game. Be this as it may, Walter got tired of dangling about her at last, and emerged from the ordeal a good deal hardened externally, and if scorched within, only so far burnt as is good for the child, who must learn betimes to entertain a wholesome dread of VOL. I. K 130 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE, fire. After exposure to such a battery, all other artillery seemed but as a volley of small arms. 3Ioreover, without knowing it, ^^'alter had become, so t<) speak, " free of the guild." The women were civil to him wherever he went, and Lady Waywarden never dreamt of snubbing him as she snubbed his brother Jack. With ^Fr. Silke, too, he was a prime favourite. Habits of personal extravagance, and a younger l>rother's liberality in douceurs, had completely won that functionary's affections; he really pressed him with the old sherry, and a certain white Burgundy, after cheese. Mr. Silke's own opinion was, that Captain Brooke, as he persisted in calling him, was *' quite the gentleman." Two more ladies made up the party. JMiss Prince, who sat next to AValter, and although a little afraid of him, was delighted at herproximitv to a live dandy. She, too, entertained certain prepossessions in his favour, though in an indirect way. Mr. Brooke's home was at Bridlemere ; Bridle- mere was near Middlesworth ; in IMiddlesworth lived jMrs. George Stoney ; and Mrs. George, when bouncing, handsome Isabella Bichards, had been a pupil at a school — I beg pardon, an establishment — TOLLESDALE. 131 whereof Miss Prince was erst part-proprietress, and principal teacher in all the most important arts and sciences constituting^ female education. How the little woman could know so much, yet bo so silly, was a marvel : nevertheless, in spite of a nervous titter and foolish manner, and an insati- able tendency to ask questions, i\[iss Prince had a heart far too large in proportion for her body, and to the bottom of this great, simple, loving heart, Isabella Richards had found her way. The former teacher had met with reverses, which she accepted in a humble, thankful spirit, that showed a good deal of Clu-istian philosophy ; and when the establishment broke up, the poor part- proprietress went out as governess to Lady Julia Tread well, at whose emancipation she consented to remain as a sort of companion to her mamma. ISlie had a paralytic sister to provide for, of course. You never knew a woman totally unfitted to battle with the world, yet making a capital fight of it notwithstanding, who had not some drag of this description ; but through all her ups and downs, her debts and difficulties, Lady Julia's vagaries, and Lady Waywarden's whims, she preserved, as fresh as ever, her great love for Isabella Richards, K 2 lo2 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. now Mrs. George Stouey. Though slie marvolled mueli at his whiskers, his refinement, and the somnoleiipy of his manners (" So unnatural in a young man, my dear," as she afterwards told Lady Julia), slic could not but regard with considerable admiration so elaborate a specimen of his class as \\'alter Brooke. I think, next to pereonal courage, with which it is often associated, nothing goes down witli women so well as personal vanity. The cox- comb runs the hero a very hard race, and a combina- tion of both never fails to produce a winner. 3Iis8 Prince, sitting on the edge of her chair, appealing constantly to her former pupil, and faltering a little when she caught Lady Way- warden's eye, laid siege to her neighbour in her own way, by plying him with a series of questions, chiefly, as bein^ of eno^rossin": interest to a soldier, on topics of military detail. " xVnd are all your men taught to ride by the same master, Captain Brooke ?" asked Miss Prince, in a small, shrill, innocent voice. " And don't the music, and banners, and shooting off the guns, righten the horses? And when you go to the ti eld of battle, is the Colonel obliged to go first? I'm so uiterested in the army. I had an uncle TOLLESDALE. 133 once in tlie War Office. And wliy are your soldiers called light dragoons ?" Walter stared, and held his glass for dry champagne. These questions were indeed " posers," and while the thoujrht flitted throuirh his brain, " What the deuce makes the woman want to put me through my facings ? Mad, of course " — he simply sipped his wine, and looked at Lady Julia, sitting opposite, who immediately took upon her- self to reply. "Because they've light heads, and light liearts, and li£i:ht heels. Don't vou know. Miss Prince, ' They love, and they ride away ? ' It's part of the system. The army couldn't go on without it." " jMy dear Julia !" exclaimed her mother. IMiss Prince looked shocked; Lord Waywarden laughed ; Lady Julia's eyes sparkled, and shot a shaft or two at Walter that it could not have been unpleasant to sustain. " We are not to ride away, at least, for some time, I am glad to hear," said he, in a tone meant for his vis-a-vis, though he looked at Lady Way- warden. " Middlesworth is a charming quarter for me, in every respect, and they'll leave us here \i\ peace now till the spring." l;M THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. •• 1 suppose lumting is the irroat attraction," said Latly Julia, demurely, loosing ibu while another shaft \'vnm \u'V how. " Ami the shootintr at Tollesdale," added Walter, turninirto his host, ''and its inmates, and iiiv own relations at Bridlemere. I'm a domcstie person; I always was. Don't you know, I'm a domestic person. Lady Waywarden ?" he reiterated, appealing to the Countess. "I confess, I shouldn't have guessed it if yon hadn't told me," answered her ladyshij) drily ; wiiereon the eyes of Walter and Lady Julia met once more, and they l»oth laughed. It seemed as if there was some understanding hetweeu these young people ; some interest in common ; some link sulitler and stronger than the mere acquaintance of London partnership or country neiirhhourhood : hut it was hard to siiv. I need scarcely observe, that Walter was not demon- strative ; and as for Ladv Julia, I am sorrv to admit that she was such a rattle, and such a tlirt, you never knew what she was driving at. Animal spirits have a great deal to answer for. The daughter inherited all her father's health and vitality, with much of his joyous temperament, TOLLESDALE. 135 and hiul besides coutimuilly bcl'ure ht-r eyes her mother's example to warn her from the opposite extreme of exaggerated cohhie.ss and reserve. Lady Julia's exterior, too, was in marked contrast to her dis[»osition. Such beauty as she possessed was of the cold, clear, delicate order. Her features were very straight and regular ; but tlie eyes, though brigiit as diamonds, were set too deep in her liead ; and though Iilt mouth was very winning wlien she spoke, the lips closed tiglit over tlu' white, even teeth, when she ceased, giving lier whole countenance a cast of resolution — I liad almost said defiance — more formidable than femi- nine. 1 liave seen heads cut on cameos that resembk'd this young lady in every particuhir, and I think 1 have felt thankful that tlie type has become rarer now than it seems to have been of old. With her |)ale, clear skin (it was not freckled, though Mrs. Stoney said so, and though that sort of complexion generally is freckled), with her long, light eyelashes, her small, well- shaped head, and wealth of plaited hair, golden in the sun, rich chestnut by candle-light, and called red or auburn, according as people were or were not in love with her, she certainly did jjossess a K^G THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. stiaiii^e, weinl, uucomfortable fascination of her own. There are some women with Avhoin yon i'nll in love, just as yon fall asleep, easily, gradn- ally. insensibly. The whole jjrocess is quite a pleasure, and the waking, as after a good night's rest, merely a question of time. There are others, again, who inflict on you nightmare rather than repose : whose image aftbrds evil dreams, instead of health V slumburs, and under whose influence your state is more that of a mesmeric trance than of sound, natural rest. You art> nrvcr reallv hai)py during the whole time of the delusion ; when vou wake vou are very miserable indeed. These last are to be avoided if a man wishes to remain a free agent, ami, in my opinion, Lady .lulia was one of them. She had a beautiful figure, though sliglit ; nobody could deny that. She was formed more like a model than a living creature ; and this advantage, of which she was perfectly aware, perhaps made her the graceful mover, dancer, and horsewoman she was. I am afraid she loved riding dearly ; she could do it ver)"- well, you see, and was rather proud of being called '• horsey," and " slang}-," by old women of either sex. To see her cross the pavement before their TOLLESDALE. 137 house in Circus Square, and ki::s her favourite's nose, when she niouutcd or dismounted at the liottest hours of tlie day, was a sight, tliat if it suggested waste of aflection, proved at tlie same tim£ intense love for the animal and the exercise. Even in the school-room ]\Iiss Prince was always afraid Lady Julia would be fast. " Not as femi- nine in her tastes as I could wish," was the wav the governess worded her ap])rehensions, and they were justified by the result. She was fast, no doubt. Like her mother, she could be horribly fine when she chose, though it is only fair to say she seldom did choose in the country, or even in London, except on special occasions, and, so to speak, in self-defence. When they tilt in tlie melee, it is not to be expected that they should dispense with their plate-armour. She liked gaiety very much: balls, races, pic-nics, occasions for wearing handsome dresses, and flirting with handsome men. Xor is this an unusual tendency amons: the best and wisest of her sex, but I believe she was never really so happy as when riding a new horse, di'iving her wicked ponies, helping papa to break a retriever, or engaged in any other essentially masculine pursuit. It is a fact, that 138 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLE.MERE. when her brother Viscount Xethersolc, low down in the fourtli form at Eton, was at home for the holidays, she used to play criclvot with him on the lawn, and could howl, bat, and keep a wicket, so that younij^ nobleman allirmed, " as well as any fellow in the Lower Shooting-fields Eleven." \\liether Walter had the slightest chance in an encounter with such a di.si)o.sitiou, was»a ipiestion he had asked himself more than once of late. Perhaps he had not answered it satisfactorily even now, while he sat opjxjsite the brilliant, animated girl, and thought what an amusing companion she could be, and " what a Wfll-brcd one she was." You are not to suppose he was in love with her — that sort of thing is quite explfMled now. Since the introduction of knickerbockers, I doubt if a man has ever been kno^v^lto go down on his knees, and Lady Julia was the last person in the Avorld to encourage, or even tolerate, anything in the shape of romance. But he certainly admired her. It was with a feeling of positive vexation that he bethought him, how, before he went away the day after to-morrow (he had to attend a dismounted parade at two o'clock), he would breakfast by TOLLESDALK. 139 himself, witliout a chance of her company, whieli she miglit so easily aflbrd him if she chose. He knew the ways of the house, and could recall one or two disappointments of the same nature. Lord Waywarden breakfasted in his writing-room, and a capital meal he made, at nine. IMiss Prince consumed tea and toast in a spacious apartment, once a school-room, at half-past ; Lady Julia had her chocolate in bed at eleven ; and Lady Way- warden never showed till two or three o'clock in the afternoon. Breakfast went on for the guests from ten indefinitely ; and nothing could be easier than for Lady Julia to come down and make Walter's tea, but well he knew she would do nothinc: of the kind. She was a clever girl, and had enjoyed a good deal of practice in that sort of intercourse with young gentlemen, which, thougli of a warmer nature than friendship, stops short of positive flirtation. They never went further tlian she liked with her, or said to her more than she meant they should ; and this immunity she owed jmrtly to frankness of manner, natural or artificial; partly to fearless tactics and skill in defensive warfare. She had a reputation, too, for spirit, as well as 110 Tin: nnooKES of dridlemere. wit, and raon did not care to provoke an encounter witli a ladv wlio was notorious for tlie facility with which she coukl " show yuii up," or •' set you do\Mi." Of her own sox she liad ph'uty of com- panions, l>ut no friends; of the oIIkt, jihiity <>f admirers, but no lovers. There are many of these exotic flowers grown in our aristocratic hothouses — flowers that are forced rather early into bloom, but are otherwise carefully reared aiid tended ; of stately growth, and wondrous sjdendoiir ; pro- tected from the bee rather than the butti-rfly, and too often thrown away on an amateur, wlio has but to walk into the glasshouse, and select from it that which he desires. I sometimes think they are the better for transplantincr. flourishing as briirhtly on a poorer soil and in a more exposed situation, losing nothing of their beauty, and gaining a perfume sweeter than before. Lady Julia used to say she should make a capital poor man's wife, whereat mamma lifted her white hands in horror, and ]\[iss Prince her grizzled eyebrows in depre- cation. Such jests were not encouraged in the family. Being an only daughter, she would have some money, and by a perversion of reasoning, less logical than natural, it seems established that %■ TOLLESDALE. Ill such young ladies are to fetch a higher price in the matrimonial market than others of the same fabric, equal in colouring and workmanship, but without the gilding. Lady Waywarden, however, obvjously entertained no suspicions of Walti^r Brooke. Whether it was that the latter seemed, as befitted his profession, cuirass all over, and a warm admirer of no style of beauty but his own, or whetlier she was herself so utterly impenetrable (for the Indian cousin, if he ever existed, had been forgotten long ago) as to disbelieve in the superstition of mutual attraction, or whetlier her ladyship's confidence arose from familiarity with her daughter's disposition, she certainly seemed to permit, if not to encourage, a state of things which any of her own sex would have terjned '* a strong flirtation with Walter Brooke." Lady Julia, for her part, Mas nothing loth to keej) her hand in, and seemed to practise on the present subject with even more than her usual zest. In vain mamma fitted on a taper white glove, to indicate sailing orders for the drawing- room. In vain 3Iiss Prince made nervous little coughs, and took short dives at her smelling- bottle, and fidgeted uneasily to .the extreme edge 142 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. of her seat — the tide of Lady Julia's eloquence compelled tliem more tluiu once to lower away their sijrnals in de o ?spair. Even Walter seemed to glow and Ijrighten imder the sunshiny glances of the syren. She asked him questions that denoted so much per- sonal interest; she i»li<'d him so volubly with half good-humoured, half sarcastic remarks of a nature that she would herself have called "chafif;" so sparkled, as it were, and flashed at him, like a gem in a golden setting, that he could not but be pleased, though somewhat dazzled the while, at least for him, and not a little surprised. " What sj)ort had he yesterday ? How late they must have left oft"! How many guns? and who were they ? Plenty of ground game at Bridle- mere " (what a pretty name !), " but not so many pheasants as papa, dear, you can show jMr. Brooke to-morrow. Oh ! ahe knew ! >Vnd was 3Ir. de EoUe there ? What a shame to call him ' Bags !' Had seen liim — was sure of it — the other day out with the Duke's hounds — must have been Racrs — rather admired him ; his figure especially. And how did you get here, Mr. Brooke, and why were you so late ?"' TOLLESDALE. 143 " I got here on Jack's pony," answered the hussar ; " and I suppose I was late, because I started early, and galloped the whole way." " If I had said so, you would have called it a woman's reason," observed Lady Julia, still ignoring mamma's signals, who had now finished buttoning on a very close-fitting and symmetrical glove. " But I rather pity the poor pony. Is it a very good animal ? I think one of mine is the best in the world, and the other is better still. I am so fond of ponies ! Tell me all about your brother's." " My dear Julia," interrupted Lady "Waywarden, whose patience was fairly exhausted, " Mr. Brooke will tell you all about the pony in the drawing- room." And her ladyship, gathering up fan, hand- kerchief, and smelhng-bottle, rose in a cloud of drapery, and sailed stately, rippling and rustling as she went, to the door. Walter held it open, with a flourish, watcliing, it may be, for a respon- sive glance fi'om Lady Julia as she went by, which, it is needless to observe, she did not vouchsafe to bestow. My lord sank into an arm-chair by the fire, poured out a liberal glass of claret, pushed the 144 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. decanter to Walter; giilpod, smacked his lips, spread a strong white hand to warm, and com- menced a promising conversation by prophesyhig an open winter ; and asking his gnest, whether he had seen any sport yet, and had got together some horses he liked ? AVitli such a preface, the dialogue was pretty sure to proceed swimmingly. Every man is pleased to talk about his horses, whatever be the number or nature of his stud ; and TiOid W;iy- warden was a good listener on any topic, by the side of a blazing (ire, and with such excellent claret as his own to keep the subject from getting dry, '* He had been young himself," he was fond of observimi: ; and he miirht have added that for enjoyment of to-day and thoughtlessness of to- morrow, he had been very young indeed, ^yhilst he had nothing, his lordship had been one of the fastest of the fast. He bought, no doubt, a good deal of experience and dealing with the Jews, as Lord Nethersole, bought it of course at a high percentage on cost price. The Earl, however, had the good sense to use the wisdom the Viscount piu'chased, and it must have been a very sharp Jew indeed who could get to windward of Way- TOLLESDALE. 145 warden now ; yet it never seemed to occur to liim that his old friend's second son ought hardly to give three figures for his horses, and have so many in the stable. Not that he would have wittingly encouraged him in any hurtful extravagance, but that it was one of those matters men in his position seem to ignore ; none more so than those who have known difficulties in tlieir youtli, and got out of them either by good fortune or good abilities. Perhaps they think others must be able to do the same, and, recognising only the successful ven- tures, forget the number of barks that have been met in stress of weather on the voyage, and never come into port at all. Be this how it may, it seems that a young man need only show an incli- nation to go a fair pace down the road, and all his friends are eager to encourage and assist him on the wav. By the time Walter had finished his bottle of claret, and corrected everything with half a glass of old sherry, the world seemed a good one to live in. and an easy one to get on with. As he flung his napkin into his chair, and swaggered off to the drawing-room, pulling his moustache, he had no VOL. I. L 14G THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. difficulty in stopping certain misgivings as to ways and means which had oppressed him not a httle, on an empty stomach, during the process of dress- ing for dinner. The invention of the pianoforte must have done incalcidable service in the way of reducing the nobler sex to subjection. For a woman wlio does not sing, I can conceive no auxiliary so versatile, and at the same time so effective. * She can work on yoni' feelings with the treble ; she can drown vour remonstrance witli the bass ; she can conceal the very words you see trembling on her lips with a gi-and crash of both hands at once, dying away presently into a wail of low melodious chords, that draw yoiu* very heart out through your long, foolish, thrilling ears. Then her attitude at the instrument is in itself so graceful, the turn of her hands and arms over the keys so attractive, and the upward look she steals at her prey so irresis- tible, that the charm is completed long before the fantas-ia is finished. The listener gasps, and yields without an effort at self-preservation. The net is spread, the noose adjusted, resistance is hopeless, and escape impossible. It must have been pleasant to lean over Lady TOLLESDALE. 117 Julia, to listen to lioi* playiug, which was good ; and watch her profile, which was better; and catch, ever and anon, the sparkle of those diamoiid eyes, which was best of all. Coffee came and went. Ciira^oa and tea were offered, and de- clined. Lady Waywarden wrote slieet after sheet to some other corresponding countess, for whom she cared as little as possible in her heart. Miss Prince worked a counterpane of formidable dimensions, with a hook-nosed ivory instrument, in short an2:rv notches, and watched the while for Lord Waywarden's tea-cup, balanced insecurely on that nobleman's knee, w'ho had sunk, as usual, into a sound, healthy, and somewhat noisy slumber. Walter was treated without ceremony (not that the Earl could keep awake after dinner for any guest in the world ; so that wlion the Duchess of Merthyr-Tyd\-il, who was a prodigious favourite, staid at ToUesdale, he used to take his repose in jerks and snatches, standing with his back to the fire) ; but Lady Julia alone seemed to devote herself to the young man's amusement, and very successful, it is but fair to say, she was. By the time he had drawn a low easy-chair to the pianoforte, and seated himself in close prox- L 2 148 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. imitv to her music-stool, their conversation had gradually sobered down from the bantering to the confidential. Though she played at intervals (remarkably well), and kept up, indeed, a semblance of music throughout, they talked upon a variety of subjects, interesting and indifferent, but all leading to one termination, viz., the state of things at Bridlemere. The farm, the shooting, the Squire's health, Helen's pursuits, " your charming sister Helen, Mr. Brooke ;" even brother Jack, his pony and terrier, were discussed in turn, and it was hard to say on which Lady Julia seemed to dwell with the most pleasure. By the time Lady Waywarden finished her letter, ]\Iiss Prince saved the tea-cup, and my lord awoke himself with a vigorous snore, Walter began to think that he had at last succeeded in making some real pro- gress with the daughter of the house. It was now long past midnight, and they used to fancy that they were rather early people than otherwise at Tollesdale. Poor ]\Iiss Prince could scarcely keep awake, and swallowed a ya\Mi in the very act of wishing everybody good-night ; but Lady Julia's eyes sparkled brighter than ever, while Walter lit her candle; and even in the hall, when he TOLLESDALE. 149 turned to watch her up the wide staircase, branch- ing oif midway in the direction of her own and her mother's apartments, she flashed back at liira one more of those deadly arrows that, like the Parthian's, are so fatal when thus delivered o\er the shoulder. More, he heard her voice die away along the corridor above, humming the air s;]ie had been playing whicli he had most enthusia^ti- callv admired. Walter returned to his host, and drank a glass of fair water, receiving at the same time directions as to where he should find a certain smoking-room, recently built, and fitted up expressly for the enjoyment of that deleterious luxury. But liis host excused himself from joining him. " He was confoundedly sleepy," he said, " so should be oft* at once without ceremony to perch." And Walter, reflecting that it was getting late, and he would like to shoot his straightest to-morrow, followed my lord's example, and was soon well over the border, and far into the Land of Shadows, where mankind pass nearly a third of their lives. CHAPTER VI. JACK BROOKE. r was a lovelv ni^lit, for all that the month was November, in the park at Bridlemere. A light haze hung over the saturated earth, and through its film the moonlight glimmered in ghostly whitened rays. The stems of the old trees loomed huge, fantastic, and ill-defined, like objects in a dream. Where the ground rose but by a few feet, patches of bare russet sward, and bro\Mi bending fem, and here a clump of brushwood, and there a twisted, stunted thorn, emerged like islands from the smface of a milky sea ; but on a lower level, more especially down towards the lodges, and in a part of the park called Dmgle-side, the heavy vapours rolled and curdled, wreathing themselves into JACK BROOKE. 151 strange curves and shapes tliat, waving in and out between the trees, a vivid fancy might well conjure into phantoms of the night. A heavy dew had fallen, moistening and thick- ening the clinging herbage, so as to deaden the footsteps of the only passer-by at this late and lonely hour ; footsteps, I am sorry to say, that left an exceedingly wavering and devious track behind them, denoting want of harmony be- tween the volition and execution of the belated traveller. It was but om- friend Jem Batters, jfinding his way home from the public-houses of Middlesworth, to his mother's cottage, across Bridlemere Park. Jem Batters walking himself sober, though by no means yet arrived at that desirable condition, and hovering between the imaginative state produced by combining beer with alcohol, and the nervous prostration consequent on such a mixture when its fumes have evaporated. After to-night Jem had resolved he would turn over a new leaf. He had been " wetting his luck," as he called it, for the last time. To-morrow he was promised em- ployment in the brewery, and henceforth he would become sober and steady, and save his money as 152 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. well as his nerve and muscle ; for Jem had found, to his dismay, that these two last were beginning somewhat to fail from the efleets of dissipation. Thus it always was with tliis unfortunate rustic. Ever}'^ new phase of life was inaugm-ated with a debauch that riveted his fetters faster on him than before. Well might Ids old mother declare, " It was the drink as done it. Wuss than pison ! Keep our Jem from the drink, an' tl^ere ar'n't his equal, not in the parisli, there ar'n't — either for work or play ! " " Our Jem " lurched up against one of the old <-'liiis, and, setting his back to it, gazed down a vista towards the Manor House with drunken gravity, shaking his head as he espied a light twinkling from an upper window in the vague grey mass. Jem's thouglits were running riot apace, and he was speculating wildly on the inmates of that mansion, their pursuits, their habits, and their position, which he had been brought up to regard with a veneration such as we pay to royalty — his fancies following each other sometliing in this fashion : How pleasant to be a gentleman ! Not a gentleman in trade, like his future emplovei-s JACK BROOKE. 153 Stoney Brothers ; nor a soldier gentleman, forced to do as he is bid, getting wages just like a working man, and expected to fight into the bargain ; but a real gentleman, like our old Squire, with nothing to do and plenty to drink, and time upon his hands the whole day long. Then he remembered that our old Squire had not been seen at farm or garden ; had not been outside the house now for a weary while; that the labourers whispered to each other how his time was nearly come ; that one-half of him was as good as dead abeady ; and Jem felt an instinctive shudder creep from head to heel while he shrank from the conviction that not only the old Squire, but he himself, and " mother," in the chimney-corner at home, and the boon companions whom he left still carousing at the " Fox and Fidtller," were subject to the common lot. He would drive away such thoughts though, with beer and brandy, he reflected, if he were a gentleman. If he were Mr. John, for instance. Ah ! that was the man he would like to change places with ! Mr. John, so frank, so bold, so stout and hearty, such a pleasant-spoken gentleman too, with every girl in the parish talking of his ruddy cheek, his 154 THE BKOOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. broAMi locks, his white teeth, and his ready smUe. Jem pictured to himself "'Mr. John" at this moment, sitting at the head of his father's table, surrounded by his guests, the land-steward, the tax-gatherer, the new tenant at the Mere Farm, and perhaps one or two of the parish church- wardens, waited on by grooms, game-keepers, the under-gardener, and all the servants in the house ; drinking port wine out of tumblers, and singing liunting songs alternately with Miss Helen's music, who is playing the piano to the party, with a gold necklace on, and flowers in her hair. Ah ! it must be a jolly hfe, that must ! lie didn't think much of Miss Helen, though. She wasn't plump and likely looking, what he called ; though some folks made a great to-do about her slim waist and her cream-coloured face, with its black eyes. To his mind, noAv, Cissy Brown or Sue Stanion, were either of 'em a better sort ; more what he should call his choice, you know. But dear ! if he was a gentleman, he wouldn't trouble much about the women-folk ! Not in his present mood at least. Give him a good horse, and rabbiting eveiy day, as much as he liked, and plenty to drink when he came in, and he JACK BROOKE. 155 wouldn't aslv for more. He'd be as happy as a king, ho would ! Keep the game up too, as well as e'er a gentleman of them all. Ah ! that would be prime ! " You wheezy old beggar, you frightened me, you did ! " Jem gave a violent start, that denoted a good deal more nervousness than is usual with the healthy system of an out-of-door labourer, and that probably frightened the asthmatic sheep whose cough thus broke in on the tliread of his reflections, quite as much as that gasping animal, lying in the driest pai-t of the gravelled carriage road, had frightened him. Under its sobering influence, however, he woke from the dream in which he had been immersed, and made his way more steadily over the Park in the direction of his home. Thither it is not my present mtention to follow him. I would rather climb up one of those lone: flickeriuof ravs to that window high in the loftv buildinj?, and enter the chamber of the only inmate stiU awake, an hour and more after midnight, in the house of Bridlemere. An odour of strong tobacco fiUs the apart- ment, wreathing itself about the walls and fur- niture as gracefully, and in far heavier volumes, 156 THE BEOOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. than does the mist about the trees and shrubs outside. Clearing sluggishly at intervals, it discloses a short, very short pipe, such an in- strument as French soldiers appropriately call a " hrule-gueule" blackened with unremitting use, and held firmly between two rows of remarkably strong, white, and even teeth. Jack Brooke's mouth is like his brother Walter's, only, being clean shaven, the family lines of resolution around its lips are more apparent on the face of the elder son. This face is brown, ruddy and healthful, not regular of features, and far inferior in beauty to that of the handsome Hussar, but with an honest, hearty expression, and a kindliness in the eyes sufficiently engaging. Perhaps it is only their long lashes that impart to these a depth and softness almost womanly. Certainly, there is benevolence, good^vill, and a gentle, pro- tective tenderness in their glance. It is a face that most people would call comely, but heavy. Those who look below the surface, and are accustomed to study character from slight indications, would detect a sensitive nature under this rough exterior, would observe signs of warm affections, a high standard of good, and a generous JACK BEOOKE. 157 confidence in others, mingled with the diffidence and self- depreciation which spring from an imaginative temperament, suppressed and re- strained by force of circumstances, combined with a keen sense of the ridiculous. « The fancy that is easily moved to laughter is also somewhat susceptible of tears. A man of common sense, ashamed to own his tendency to such weak emotions, cloaks them under brevity of speech, rough carelessness of manner, and an appearance of confirmed insensibility, transparent enough to those who are in the habit of pene- trating the affectations of their kind. It is your glib, plausible, well-spoken personage, generally voluble, always indifferent, and habitually polite, whose heart is as hard as the nether millstone. Abruptness of speech, hesitation in offering and accepting conventional courtesies, reserve with strangers, and diffidence amongst women, these drawbacks to social success are often the very offspring of generous feelings and a high tone of mind. It is a calumny to say that sh}Tiess arises from conceit. It is more generally the result of respect for others as well as self ; and, though the example be rare as it is ridiculous, a man who is 158 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. capable of blushing after his whiskers are grown, is usually a good fellow at bottom, and as honest as the day is long. Jack Brooke was sadly given to this absurdity. Many a lady accosting Mr. Brooke across the dinner-table, had marvelled to note how her simple remark brought the blood to his cheek; marvelled, perhaps, still more to find no further result from his confusion. He was fnditened at ladies, and that is the truth. " What he thought they would do to him," as Walter used to say, " was a mystery." But though Jack was as bold a fellow as ever stepped, under circumstances of physical danger, he was routed, so to speak, and put to flight with great slaughter, by the society of a Miss in her teens. His character was not very easy to penetrate. I doubt if any one knew him thoroughly. Cer- tainly not his father, nor his brother Walter, nor even Helen, though on occasion she was the only person in wlioni he would confide. " Tatters," a certain ragged terrier of eccentric habits, insepa- rable from his master, seemed more familiar with his thoughts and opinions than any other inmate of the house. It speaks well for Jack that the JACK BROOKE. 159 dog loved him with a devotion utterly ludicrous aud canine. The domestics in general liked the younger brother best. Walter gave them far more trouble, domineered, hectored, blew up, always in his own oflf-hand princely way, and they " came to heel," as it were, and fawned upon him, as human nature will, when consistently and judiciously bullied. He was free, too, with his money, and enjoyed, besides, the iJrestige of his profession, his moustaches, and occasional appear- ance in undress uniform, a costume which the female part of the establishment — from the old housekeeper, already a middle-aged person when he was weaned, down to the under kitchen-maid, lately promoted from the Sunday school to the scullery — declared, one and all, " became Master Walter wonderful ! " Jack's pursuits may be gathered from the furnitm-e and accessories of this, his own peculiar snuggery, far removed from the inhabited regions of the mansion, where he spends many a solitary hour undisturbed, and where he can smoke liis strong tobacco in peace, without polluting the atmosphere for every other member of the establishment. 160 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. His literary tastes seem simple enough, and of a praetical ratlier than a speculative nature. A heavy work on ajrriculture, witli elaborate diagrams of ploughs, turnip-cutters, and such mechanical auxiliaries to husbandry, stands in the place of honour on the row of shelves which constitute his library. It is supported by a few odd numbers of the Sporting Miu/azine, a periodical in which he takes great delight ; by two or tliree fly-books, stuffed with crafty entomological imitations, tied by Jack's own strong, supple tingers ; and a thick quarto edition of '• Spenser's Faerj' Queen," a work into which, as into a stiff fertile soil, you may dig, and dig again, reaping in proportion to your labour crop after crop in swift succession, of free, irolden, and abundant harvests. In decoration, the chamber has but little to boast. Originally a servant's room, very near the roof; its walls are simply whitewashed; its one windo^v is bare of blind or curtain. There is a carpet trodden into shreds by Jack's nailed shoot- ing-boots, and there is a high-backed leathern chair, in the depths of which Tatters lies curled up and motionless, but opening an eye occasion- ally to make sure his master is still poring over a 4 JACK BROOKE. 101 red-covered, interlined account-book at the writ- ing-table. Propped against tbe inlvstand is a photograph from a picture in one of the drawing- rooms, and when Jack's eye travels from his work it rests sadly and rather longingly on the photo- gi-aph. At such moments Tatters bestows an affectionate wink on his master. Tlie photogra})h represents a handsome, pros- perous-looking woman, with Helen Brooke's cast of features, and a countenance which, although very diflerent in character, has a strong physical resemblance to the girl's — a fiice that, with energy to sustain its burdens, and good-humour to liijhten its crosses, seems desio:ned thoroujrhlv to enjoy the pleasures as well as to fullil the duties of life, not to be cut off after eight-and- forty hours of illness before it had reached its prime. Jack remembers her well. To this day, when he thinks of his mother, his heart tightens with the old pain tliat was so unbearable at first. For years the child, and afterwards the schoolboy, would wake up and weep in silence, longing, yearning for the dear lost face, to his mind tlie fondest and fairest he had ever seen. Being the eldest, Jack remembered her far VOL. I. M 162 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. better than the rest. She died, indeed, when Helen was yet little more than an infant ; but her first-bom was her constant playmate and com- panion, the pride of her young wifehood, and the darling of her maternal heart. " Mother," says a great MTiter, who has lately gone from among us, " is the name for God with little children ;" and there is indeed no eartlily worship at once so pure, so trusting, and so engrossing as that which is offered to her by the innocent loving heart to which slie is the embodiment of beauty, affection, and power. When IMrs. Brooke died, the Squire, as the seiwants said, " took on dreadful ;" but he got over her loss long before liis quiet, undemon- strative little son. Ruth, the upper housemaid, since married, somewhat hurriedly, to a black- smith, and gone to Australia, found the child, months afterwards, squeezing his poor little face against the railings of the churchyard where his mamma was buried, " cr}ang," as that soft-hearted damsel described it, "poor dear, quite softlike and patient; and indeed if my 'art 'ad been a stone, it must have iruv to the darlinir then and there !" So she carried ^faster John back aijain every yard of the way, an honest mile and more, %■ JACK BROOKE. 1C3 in her bosom, mingling lior tears witli bis from pure sympatliy and compassion, foregoing alto- gether the junketing to which she was bound wth her blacksmith, and thereby deferring, if not imperilling the whole scheme of her nuptials and subsequent emigration. Jack was right to mourn for his mother. He had been somewhat lonely in the world ever since she left him. Whether the child's nature became repressed and blighted, as it were, by so deep an affliction endured so early, or that, lavishing so much love on mamma, it had the less to spare for any one else : certain it is that the eldest boy stood a little aloof from brother and sister, nay, even from his father himself, and appeared, unlike other cliildren, to lead his own life apart, and follow out his own train of thoughts and fancies uninfluenced by the companionship of those with whom he lived. He was no recluse though, far from it. At school, where he took a leading part in foot-ball and cricket matches ; at college, where he re- mained long enough to be plucked for that pre- liminary examination which is called " The Little Go," and whence he departed sorrowful and humiliated rather than sui-prised, Jack Brooke M 2 164 THE BROOKES OF BKIDLEMERE. was unquestionably a fovourite. Returning to Rridlemere, he mingled cordially in the sports and gatherings of the county ; but at the latter he could scarce be said to enjoy himself; whilst of the former he seemed most to relish those which lire best pursued alone. There was not such a fly-fisher as Jack in the 3[idland Counties. To circumvent ducks by moonli2;ht. flushing the warv wild-fi)wl just within range, and securing the effect of both barrels, was a talent he possessed in com- mon with a select few of his fellow-creatures, and the exercise of which afforded him an intense and inexplicable delight ; but to walk up partridges in line, or to stand at covert-ends, and knock down cock-pheasants by the dozen, ofiered him neither pleasure nor excitement. In the sport par excel- lence, the spirit-stirring, the joyous, the unrivalled, the very thought of which recalls a golden vision of those mild November mornings, with their dewy pastures, their fragrant copses, and their deep, still woodlands, famtly blushing yet from autumn's farewell kiss ; of manly cheer, and kindly greeting, and white and scarlet, and tramp of hoof, and ring of bridle; of the horse's generous daring, and the dash and mettle of the hound ; of JACK BROOKE. IG.J tlie heart-beating moments ere suspense thrills into certainty ; of the maddening rally for a start, and the quieter, steadier, more continuous energy of the chase — in the sport of sports, I say, no man was a deeper proficient than Jack Brooke. Yet he enjoyed it very rarely now, for reasons which will appear hereafter. He could ride, too, better than the generality of sportsmen. Strongly built, and of considerable weight, he cherished, never- theless, a taste for keeping in the front rank, wliich was neither to be baulked bv majjnitude of obstacle nor inferiority of horse-flesh. The young- est and wildest reprobate was easy and tractable in his hands : sitting quite still and unflurried, he seemed to impart his own cool energy to his horse. The animal soon enters into the joke, and enjoys it as much as his rider. I do not aim at giving Jack more credit than he deserves for success in a mere pastime. I only wisli you to infer that he possessed both courage and temper, a combination of qualities which help a man over the metaphorical ups and downs of life as smoothly as across a flying country, with a pack of fox- hounds running hard. In general society, our friend was, perhaps, not 166 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. quite so forward. In the ball-room, I fear, he sat motionless as in the saddle ; and at picnics, or archery meetings, proved simply a dead weight and encumbrance. He was not even a good listener, and when tackled by an old, or even a young lady, without means of escape, afforded a piteous and distressing spectacle. Elderly gentle- men had a high opinion of him, notwithstanding. They considered him, "A sensible young man that : none of your talking chaps, sir ; but a fellow that's not above taking a hint. Xo conceit, sir : not asliamed to be taught." And indeed he would suffer the platitudes of his seniors meekly, and with a patience the less meritorious, perhaps, that he permitted his attention to wander sadly during its progress, and went his way totally uninfluenced by the lecture at its close. The women, I fear, compared him unfavourably with his younger brother. Of Walter's dandyism, insouciance and charming conceit he had not one iota. These qualities, like ribbons, laces, and such garnishing, command high prices in the female market. The stouter calico and flannel virtues, so to speak, fetch but a few coppers per yard. A handsome face and a pair of broad shoulders can- JACK BROOKE. 1G7 not hold their own against varnish and vanity combined ; nor are the homely merits which con- stitute a good husband and ])ere de famille of the kind much relished in a dancing partner. Here and there, a very fine lady who was a little tired of everybody, or a very fast one who wanted to strike out a new line, might think it worth while to cultivate Jack Brooke ; but each invariably gave him up in despair after half a dozen sen- tences. No woman, however fast or fine, likes to be assured by a man's manner that he is hope- lessly uninterested in herself, her bonnet, her conversation, and her opinions. The slightest spark of intelligence, the shortest monosyllable thrown in at intervals, will keep her tongue going, with small exertion on a listener's part ; but the intelligence and the interest must at least be simulated, otherwise she votes you, " Oh ! so heavy !" and flutters off to fasten on other game, with which she hopes to have better sport. . I fear most of the young ladies about ]\Iiddles- worth would have passed upon Jack Brooke the sweeping condemnation that he was " absent and stupid, and always seemed to be thinking of somethmg else !" He Jiad a good deal to think 1G8 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. of. He was busied with no pleasant thoughts now, poring over those ruled pages, and emitting tobaceo-smolce in pungent clouds that caused poor Tatters to sneeze disgusted from the depths of his arm-chair. Jack was fond of farming. Jack was a practical fanner. Jack could not bear to see things going wrong, and business mismanaged, and money wasted where money was becoming scarcer ever}' day. Ilis taste for agriculture he inherited from the Squire: not so his love of order, method, and a libcnil economy. The father, like many indolent people, delighted in beinir robbed — like most obstinate natures, was penny-wise and pound-fuolish. Since the latter 's illness, Jack was supposed to take much of the trouble off his hands in looking after the Home Farm, and managed the estate, subject to the supervision of the jealous, exacting, and utterly unreasonable invalid. In vain the son plodded, and laboured, and pondered, tramj)ing about the acres by day, and racking his brains over the red account-book by night : some whim of the father was sm-e to nullify his happiest suggestions ; and, exert himself as he would, he was, after all, but a man in fetters, liable at anv moment to be «' JACK BROOKE. 1G9 tripped up, and get a sore tumble besides. Being, as I say, of a practical nature, he could not but perceive the proportion in which expenditure exceeded income ; and this, too, gave him the une&.siness felt by every prudent person in like straits. To reduce the outlay on his own respon- sibility was impossible, and an expostulation witli the Squire only brought on a good deal of intem- perate language and an amount of excitement very hurtful to the latter in his feeble state. At first, he tried to get Walter to interest himself in business matters, feeling that if any one's advice could bias his father it would be that of the favourite son. This conviction was not pleasant for the elder brother ; but he worked upon it nevertheless with considerable energy and com- plete failure. The hussar could not bring himself to take the slightest interest in " grubbing about in the dirt," as he profanely termed the first and most essential of sciences. There was something of the Squire's indolence and carelessness of con- sequences in Walter which, perhaps, endeared liim to his father as much as his personal good looks and the easy assumption of his manners both at home and abroad. Once, and for a few 170 THE BKOOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. moments, Jack bethought hiiu of enlisting Helen in the cause ; but when lie remembered her con- stant attendance on the invalid, his dependence on her for society, and the many hours they spent toerether alone, he refrained from addinij more weight to the burden already sufliciently heavy which his sister carried so uncomplainingly. Altogether, Jack was not happy. Jit- kcjit his cares to himself though, never even hinted at them to the others, and, niglit after night, jiored over the red account-book, with a sickening heart indeed, but an honest stedfastness of pur[X)se and determination to do the best he could. Self-sacrifice is one of the most beautiful of virtues. It speaks well for our fellow-creatures, that they give us so many opportunities of culti- vating it. If you choose, like Sir Walter Ealeigh, to take the clothes off your back, and spread them in the mire to be trodden on, innumerable muddy feet pass over willingly enough, stamping them into shreds, and even spurning your garments the while, because they are not of the richest material and the newest fashion. When you give a shoe- less beggar the shilling which, perhaps, you cannot very well spare, with which you meant to have JACK BROOKE. 171 procured your early diuner, or taken your cliild to the Zoological, or bought the tobacco that is your only luxury, how do you know he does not purse you because it is not half-a-crown ? Being paid in gratitude is, after all, very embar- rassing. It can seldom be gracefully tendered, more seldom gracefully accepted. If a man owes me five shillings, it is inconvenient both for him and me that he should licpiidate his debt in cop- per, and I can imagine many circumstances in which I had rather not be reimbursed at all. Perhaps it is only fair that benefits should usually be welcomed with small thanks, and hardly ever be requited in kind. Even without the reversion thus purchased for the donor, the pleasure of con- ferring them is a very suflScient return ; and while it is more blessed, most people will allow that it is also far more agreeable to give than to receive. A story of Jack's school-days perhaps illustrates his character better than whole pages of analysis. His younger brother was not only more advanced in learning, but took the lead from the elder in the playground as well. Not that he was as strong and active, as good at cricket or football, but that the self-reliance of his character imposed upon his 172 Tlir. 15R00KES OF BRIDLEMERE. comrades here, as subscqucutly on •reiieral society in tlio real world. It is bnt jnstice to allow this, however, that in ability at lessons he was far su- perior to Jack. The latter succumbed cheerfully. His honest face would frl<|^^ \\itli delight when Walter was " commended " in Cornelius, or made a stunniiic: catch at " lonc^-slip." There was no jealuusy in Urttnkr, senior; and as for his irene- rosity and goodnature, to use the boys' own ex- pressiim, ''There was not such a hid in the school!" Didn't he spend his pocket-money, treating the other fellows, almost before he got it ? And hadn't he given Pinkes his ferret, the treasure most coveted in the whole society ? white, vindictive, with red eyes, and far gone in the family-way, to console that mourner for the loss of his great- uncle, an old gentleman for whom Pinkes enter- tained a morbid terror and aversion, and on whose demise, I fear, that young dunce looked as a happy interposition, for that he would examine him in his humanities no more. It was the custom in this, as in many other aca- demies, to celebrate the Fifth of Xovember with great glai'e and ceremony. The boys subscribed for fireworks ; the ushers begged and bought faggots ; JACK BIJOOKE. 173 a neighbouring ftirraer, known to the young gen- tlemen by the simple apjiellation of ''Nobs," pro- vided a tar-barrel, while the master contributed a halt-holiday and his sanction to the proceedings. Thea they yelled and shouted to their hearts' con- tent, dancing and leaping like young savages, rounil the bonfire; and by degrees, the dnn smoke, studded witli sparks, rolled heavily away, the Hames streamed up into a shifting, flickering pvi'amid of fire ; the Ivoman-candles shot their luminous bul- lets into air, the rockets soared heavenward in glowing tracks, and fell again in showers of green and crimson and gold ; squibs and crackers hissed and bounded about like liery adders ; Catherine- wheels, revolvhig faster and faster, like illuminated kaleidoscopes, wheeled into one dazzling, stupefy- ing, yellow blaze of glory ; and then the lustre faded, the skeleton fi-ame-work showed, the bonfire sank, the tar-barrel emitted a last feeble flash, the whole thing went out like a eandle, and darkness was once more upon the earth. During the height of the revels, however, it came to pass, that the spirit of mischief, never dormant in a schoolboy, prompted Walter Brooke to put a lighted cracker into the tail-pocket of Mr. 174 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. .Softly, the writing-master. That professor, unfor- tunately, carried otlier combustible preparations in the same receptacle. The result was, a pro- tracted and continuous explosion, inconvenient, ludicrous, and not devoid of danger. It was some moments ere the sufferer knew exactly what had haj)penod ; and during that interval, Pinkes, the boy already mentioned, being of an excitable and impressionable temperament, moved besides by feelings of terror, mixed with considerable admira- tion, could not forbear exclaiming, ''Oh ! I^rooke." The professor, a married man witli a family, natu- rally resenting an attempt to blow him into the air as an extempore Guy Fawkes, caught the name instantly, and did not fail to make his com- plaint, nor to show his scorched and ruined gar- ment to the master. Short and summary is the justice of the rod. After school next morning, Jack must stand forth, face to face with the avenger. He marched up sturdily to the desk, with cold hands and a beating heart. Stem, measured, incisive, came the accents off the lips of that immovable Fate, over its high starched neck-cloth. "An outrage, flagi-ant, vindictive, and unparal- JACK BEOOKE. 175 leled — not only subversive of discipline in the scliool, but a gross ofifenee to society at large, and a crime provided against by the laws of the land. What is the meaning of it? I ask you, Brooke, what is the meaninc: of it ? " " Please, sir, I didn't do it," said tlie poor little man, in a low voice, which rang nevertheless in his own ears like a trumpet. " Please, sir, you didn't do it ! " sneered the Fate. " Lie the first, sir — obvious, pal[)able, and supererogatoiy. Then please, sir, who did do it ? " " Please, sir, I don't know," answered the boy, more courageously this time, for his pluck rose as the danger drew near, and he felt, that though he was telling a lie now, it was one which stamped him a hero and a martyr in the dozen or two of opinions that constituted his little world. " You don't know, sir ! " repeated the cruel voice, jubilant now, yet repressed, in conscious power. *' Then we must make you know, sir, and teach you to know better another time. Mr. Marks, the boys Avill attend for punishment.^' Mr. Marks was the usher. The boys did attend for punishment, and Jack Brooke felt for the rest of the dav as if he was standins: in the 17G THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. thinnest continuations, with his back to u kitchen fire. Jack shuts up the account-book at last, with u puzzled, weary expression, and doubts whether lie won't have one more pipe before turning in. Tatters leaps exulting to the lloor, and wags his tail for permission to take his usual place on the quilt. His master pulls olf his old worn shooting- jacket witli a yawn, and proceeds leisurely to undress. Strijtping, one by one, the garments from his fine athletic frame, something of dis- content stirs within him at the thraldom and con- straint in which he lives. A\ illingly, tliinks Jack, wouhl he change places with any day-labourer about the place. He could work at least as hard and patiently as his fellows, for the benefit of those he loves. He would be in no false position then ; he would escape from the perpetual dissatisfaction with the present, the constant misgivings for the futm'e. He would feel no inferiority amoufrst his comrades, tliose honest hard-handed rustics, with whom strength and manhood are the only tangi- ble qualities, and intellectual power entirely an unknown quantity. He could not be fmther re- moved than he is now from all that he wishes JACK BROOKE. 177 to become ; and perhaps he uiiglit be better ap- preciated by those who were dependent on his exertions for their bread. Yes, he would walk out cheerfully at sunrise, to earn his day^s wages by his day's work, so that his father and Walter, and even Helen, and perhaps one or two others, uiiglit learn the stuff he was made of. " Bosh ! it's two o^'lock in the morning," says Jack, out loud, "or I never should be such an ass as to get into tliis morbid strain. Hie up ! Tatters. Good-night, you beauty!" And he pauses, with the extinguislier in his hand, before putting out the candle, and turning in finally for his rest. "You beauty!" I must obseiTe, was not ad- dressed to Tatters, whose claims to that appella- tion would have borne considerable arc:ument. It applied to a tawdry French print, whicli hung within sight of his pillow, and for whicli Jack cherished an admiration, unaccountable to the most intimate and confidential of his friends. This work of art represented an impossible lady on an impossible horse, \\ith an impossible hawk on her wTist, and an impossible hound at her stirrup. She wore the tightest of waists, the fullest VOL. I. N 178 THE BROOKES OF BrJDLEMERE. of skirts, the most exaggerated of hats, aud the most undisciplined of feathers. Her liorse, sus- tained to all appearance by atmospheric pressure alone, danced and curvetted airily on one leg, obviously without coercion from his rider, for the rein floated loose in her lap, and her tiny riding- whip Avas carried by the hound in its mouth. Clouds of dust constituted the background of tliis suggestive composition ; and the only merit in the whole appeared to be the ingenuity with which the artist had combined so much levity of expression with such classic regularity of features. There was something in the face, too, that drew atten- tion ; a certain depth of tenderness in the eyes — a certain saucy resolution about the mouth, attractive because so contradictory, witliout being entirely irreconcileable. The French print was like a French novel — ludicrous, exaggerated, unnatural, yet possessing a peculiar interest and fascination of its OAvn. Jack bought it in Paris, to which city he ha been prevailed on to accompany Walter for a ten days' ti-ip ; the elder brother, I fear, furnishing the means out of his slender store. Walter used to make his father laugh with an imaginary descrip- »■ JACK BROOKE. 179 tion of its purcliase. Jack's French, his bhishes, and general confusion, wliile lie explained to the smiling shopwoman which print he wanted, that voluble lady's coquetry and sly allusions, with the eventual discomfiture of the Englishman, and liis departure in possession of the article at double its marked price. I say, imaginary, for the brothers were seldom together, except at dinner, in the gay city ; and though Jack suffered from a fine chivalrous shyness amongst women, he had also a business-like, quick-sighted, kind of common sense, that would detect and resist imposition from the most delusive dame who ever smiled across a counter. Whatever he paid for the print, however, he seemed to value it very high. There it hung in the place of honour opposite his bed-head. His last look at night, his first in the morning, could scarce help resting on the winning eyes, and the saucy determined mouth. Pleasant dreams ! honest Jack, and sound sleep ! unbroken by the snores of Tatters, lying warm and cosy, coiled up on the quilt at your feet. N 2 CHAPTEK VII. A DRAGON S TOOTH. HEX jMiss Brooke went out walking, slie was not above the little coquetries of outward adornment practised by her sex. Dangerous, as young ladies can be, in the full lustre of candle-light, glowing, so to speak, in their war-paint, whirling their scalps and other trophies in tlie war-dance, and fully caparisoned at all j^oints for the war-path, I think even the most formidable, to carr}' on the metaphor, looks more like "raisin' har'," when she sallies forth towards sundo^vn, lithe, looped-up, and lightly accoutred either for flight or battle ; to all appearauce unexpectant, yet at the same time not incapable, of " following up a trail " (for the female nature is seldom quite unprepared to take A dragon's tooth. 181 a prey) ; and, conscious that her forces have been recruited by hmcheon, while her weapons are brightened by the becoming influence of the evening breeze, equal to either emergency, the extension of a merciful prerogative, or the inflic- tion of immediate death. Leaning over a stile, and gazing down into the valley on the town of Middlesworth, a very well- dressed and rather showy-looking man smoked his cigar, apparently wrapped in deep meditation. The sound ofj|Helen's step M'oke him from his abstraction, and the undisguised approval Mith which he stared at her as she approached was only excusable on the plea that it was months since he had seen anything in the shape of a young lady so entirelv to his taste. Miss Brooke did look verv handsome, as she came along a dry, sound path that crossed the well-drained field. Her dehcate cheek had cauo-ht a tinire of colour from the soft west wind, that lifted the heavy trails of black hair off her temples. The small well-shaped head, with its clear-cut features, was borne royally as usual ; but with a jaunty carriage that sprang from the elastic step and free graceful gestures of a perfect symmetry. Her 182 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. lips were parted, as though she drank in with zest the pure autumnal air, and her eyes sparkled with the lijjht of health and auimatiou. A dark woman with a colour has all her attractions increased tenfold. In repose she is very generally pale; she rides at anchor, as one may say, under the white flag — calm, stately, and peaceful ; but when she shakes out her canvas and hoists the red ensign, not another craft that walks the waters need hope to take the wind out of her sails. Helen thought as little of her looks as any young woman who possessed a glass on her toilet-table ; yet she must have felt beautiful, as she stepped hghtly along, enjoying thoroughly the exercise, the landscape, and even the solitude, so pleasant after a whole morning spent in the library, hsten- ing to the Squire's everlasting surmises and wearisome complaints. The man with the cigar took a thorough inven- tory of her as she came on. He noted the turn of her tall round figure, set off by a close-fitting jacket, and a full fluted sldrt, looped up over the striped stuff petticoat, with a rim of worked white edging underneath. He glanced admiringly at the slender, hollow feet, with their ai'ched in. A dragon's tooth. 183 steps, cased in supple, shining little boots, laced, soled, pieced, and strapped, in ridiculous imitation of those j)onderous articles he wore liiniself on the heather or the stubbles. He was pleased to see, though it could not much matter to him, that over the straight trim ankles tlie bright-coloured hose clung close without a wrinkle ; that the dark kid gloves fitted the taper hands without a crease. Nothing escaped him — not the heavy links of a gold bracelet at her wrist, nor tlie delicate lace- edged handkerchief peeping from her jacket pocket, nor the neat umbrella, much too small for use, that if once opened could surely never be folded so smooth again, nor even the heart-shaped locket, with poor j^apa's hair in it, that hung on a velvet ribbon round Helen's white neck. All this, I say, he saw, as she drew nearer — and she came on pretty fast, I can tell you — nor seeing this could he repress a covert smile, a smile under the skin, that flitted over the man's face, and did by no means improve its expression. He made way for her as she approached the stile, and removed the cigar from his lips. There is something in the presence of a real lady to which the lowest bred man cannot but pay an 184 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. unwilling, almost an unconscious deference ; and this was not a low-bred man, far from it. He had been mucli more in society, and probably knew a great many more smart people than Helen; yet, taking the two as class specimens, a child would not have hesitated in pointing out the aristocrat, and the plebeian. He was a good-looking fellow too, and not in what could fairly be called a flash or vulgar style. Helen did not look at him, be sure, but she saw him nevertheless, and took in his general appear- ance, as young ladies can, at a glance, with her own eyes averted all the time. She observed that he had heavy, well-shaped features, small dark eyes and large dark whiskers, a coarse mouth, very good teeth, a great deal of jewellery, and a remarkably bright colour ; that his clothes were' perfectly well-made (you must remember Helen had two brothers, one of them a dandy by profession), and though in no way remarkable, were of a fashion and material more adapted for town than country wear. She could not but admit that his figure was strong and well-propor- tioned, though a little inclined to corpulence, and that the bare hand in which he held his cigar, was A dragon's tooth. 185 very plump and white, adorned moreover with a diamond ring of no small value ; such a ring as is usually displayed in the foreground of professional men's portraits, meditating under crimson cano- pies, in -irreproachable linen and suits of glossy black. " Not quite a gentleman," said Helen to lier- self, as the man made way for her, and lifted liis hat with a flourish : " what AYaltor calls a ' Brum- magem swell,' I think," and would have passed on without fiu'ther notice, but that courtesy enjoined some acknowledgment, however distant, of his civility and his salute. There is hatred at first sight, as there is love. Helen was provoked with herself to feel such unreasonable repugnance towards a man she had never seen before, and was unlikely ever to see again. She Avould have been more provoked still had she analysed the cause of her dislike. So she incHned her head Avith that haughty distant gesture which is, I think, the next remove from a positive slap in the face, and passed over the stile with a dexterous whisk of her draperies, that nullified the half-step he made in advance, as though to offer his assistance. He was determined to speak to her, never- ISG THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. tlieless ; and was rather irritated that he could not, on tlie spur of tlie moment, hit upon some pretext which should ^ivo him an excuse for doing so without the appearance of presumption. This was not a case in which he could iollow licr with his own pocket-handkerchief, affecting to think it was one she had dropped, or oflVr to remove imaginary briers from tlie skirt of her dress, or adopt the successful French plan, of informing the lady she had whitened her gown where she could not possibly see it, and dusting it tbc wJiile with many protestations of deference, and entreaties for forgiveness. Few people are sufficiently brutalized to make these advances to a lady, and for the true gentleman every woman is a lady ; but with all her softness there was something about Helen that would have bidden the most callous nature pause before venturing on a lil)erty ; so the man put his cigar in his mouth again as she passed on, and racked his brain for a question that should compel her to answer him. He was a connoisseur in voices ; he was resolved to hear hers. If it was at all in character with her appearance, he would find out who she was, and see more of her. There was a gQod deal of persistency and determination ■* A dragon's tooth. 187 hidden under that smooth, shining skin of his ; a good deal of self-conceit and self-confidence ; not an atom of conscientious scruple or remorse. There was nothinii: for it but to ask his wav. An old worn-out resource, indeed, yet which seemed to him the least offensive in the present emer- gency. It would be absurd to inquire for ]\[iddles- worth. There was the town staring him in the face. He must think of some other locality. Hurrying after her, hat-in-hand, breathlessly, he "begged her pardon. There was a short cut somewhere here, and he was afraid he had missed it — would she kindly point out to hiiu the nearest way to Bridlemere ? " Helen's colour deepened, for the hurr^-ing steps brought to her recollection one or two stories she had heard of plausible footpads, wrenching watches and bracelets from unprotected damsels in lonely throughfares. * She even calculated the defence she could offer with the neat umbrella, and her own speed of foot, for a quarter of a mile, the distance in which she could reach Dame Bat- ters's cottage, and perhaps Jem's formidable aid ; but the voice and mau' er were so thoroughly 188 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. couventional and re-assuring, that she halted and faced about boldly, pointing to the direction from which she came. "That patli takes you to Bridlomere, and on l>y the back of the stables into the high road." She was going to tell him there was no right of way ; but, after all, he had the appearance of u gentleman, and she checked the ungracious re- mark. It was just the voice he expected, full, sweet, composed, the quiet patrician accent distinct on every syllable. " Thank you very much," said the gentleman, with a profusion of bows and superfluity of polite- ness a little overdone. " I am most anxious to see Bridlemere ; they say it is such a charming place, such a beautiful old house. Perhaps you can tell me if I shall be disappointed ? Perhaps you know it?" " Perhaps I do," answered Helen shoi-tly, for the man's demonstrative manner provoked her. " I live there." " Miss Brooke, I beg you a thousand pardons," he exclaimed, raising his hat once more, and with as much ceremony as if he had been regularly A dragon's tooth. 189 introduced by a third person. " I did not expect ; I was not aware ;" and muttering something about " honour" and "pleasure," and so forth ; he passed on, pretty well satisfied with his ingenuity in thus paving the way to an acquaintance with tliis beautiful young lady. It cost him an extra walk, though, of more tliau a mile, for he was proceeding from a neighbouring estate, on which he held a mortgage, to the town of Middlesworth, and he could not, in common decency, but follow the path she had pointed out, as long as there was a chance of Helen turning round. He might have saved himself the trouble, however, for the latter walked on, looking straight before her, with her head rather higher than usual, and a smile of somethins; akin to scorn curlins: her lip. Miss Brooke was not usually a person to be acted on by external influences, and to-day she had come out from a long and wearisome morning in the library, where she had settled the Squire at last to his accustomed nap, with every inclination to enjoy her release ; yet the weather, someho\v, seemed spoilt within the last ten minutes. The sky was darker, the wind had turned colder. It would be sure to rain before she could get back. 190 THE BROOKES OF BTIIDLEMERE. No ; it Avas none of these drawbacks, but I liave said that there are such forces as antipatliies. Some philosophers, indeed, opine that they are instincts implanted in our nature to guard us from future enemies, and it might have been something of this kind that affected the young lady all the way to Dame Batters's cottage door. jMiss Brooke's step was hardly so light as usual, while shq neared'the porch of that lowly dwelling, to which she was welcome as the song of a wild bird, but Dame Batters recognised it from her chimney-corner, and folding her bare arms in her check apron, came forth to meet her visitor. ""Wliy, if here b'ain't our young lady," said the old woman, in a voice that constant practice of self-commiseration had toned down to a plaintive and somewhat irritating wail. " 3Iiss Helen sure- lie ; an' it do my old eyes good to see her — There, it do. Come in, miss, and set down now, an' rest a bit, though it's little young bones like your'n knows of rest nor rheumatics neither." Here remembering her role, the dame put one hand to her back, and puckered up her old face into a lamentable expression of bodily anguish. *' Why, I hoped the rheumatics were so much A dragon's tooth. 191 better," said Helen, in her gentle, soothing tones. "You told me that stuff had done you good. I can send you some more. We've got plenty of it at the hall." "Good, my dear," answered the patient, not without a certain trium})h, for people like to be distinguished, even for the obstinacy of their rheumatism. "'Ta'n't likely now, is it, as any- think '11 ever do me good? It's in my bones, you see, miss, in my bones it is, and in my bones it'll stop, I know, till they lie in the churchyard, an' I shouldn't wonder if they was to ache a bit at odd times, even there." Tills was said with a mixture of pride and resig- nation, sucli as that with which a man talks of the comfortable arrangements he has made for survivors after his demise, probably with as little perception of the reality thus anticipated ; but it was Helen's especial nature to console. She had a good deal of practice at home ; and indeed, when she went out, never failed to bear a ray or two of comfort along with her into every cottage on the estate. The poor people about Bridlemere loved the very ground she walked on, not because Miss Helen was such a "fine lady" as those simple 192 THE nnooKES of bridlemere. rustics said, attaching to the epithet a far different meaning from that wliich it bears in cities, nor because she was generous with her money, as far as hor slender means allowed, but that she pos- sessed the sympathetic quality, whicli interests itself in a neighbour's affairs as earnestly as in its own. This power of projecting the mind and feel- ings, as it were, into the very existeiK-e of others, when api»lied by means of diverse mental gifts, sufh as imagination, construction, tact, and in- . genuity, to purposes of .Vrt, and bridled, moreover, by a severe taste, constitutes Genius. When it exists simply with average brains, and a warm, honest heart, it merely ajiproaches, and that very closely, the Apostle's definition of Charity. The poor are peculiarly susceptible of its influence, and the kindly word, which proves that the speaker not only pities, but understands the privations of indigence, or the temptations of vice, has warmed many a cold heart, reclaimed many a reckless nature, and raised many a fallen woman out of the mire in which she has been trodden down so ruthlessly. Though dame Batters was old, dirty, querulous, and to most people thoroughly uninteresting; though her precious Jem was coarse, idle, drunken, A dragon's tooth. 193 ami just thoughtful enough to be dishonest, altogetlier a very complete specimen of the village black- guard, Helen could listen as kindly to the long- winded complaints of the mother, could thank the son as sweetly for an act of sullen courtesy, as if the one had been a duchess, and the other a dandy; nay, the duchess and the dandy would probably have found her far colder and more distant ; would have voted her less " easy to get on with," than did the humble inmates of the cottage. Jem, unbraced, unwholesome, dishevelled and sodden-looking, rose from the fire-side when the young lady entered, and hid a half-smoked pipe in a wholly du'ty hand ; then he dragged a wooden chair from its corner, knocked one of the legs home, pulled his greasy cap from its peg, wiped the seat, and griiming in extreme bashfulness, ground it severely along the sanded floor to Miss Helen. Her rich young voice thanked him so musically as she sat down, that he stood spell-bound, shift- ing from one leg to the other, and cramming his horny finger into tlie hidden jjipe-bowl, not yet thoroughly extinguished, till he burnt it to the quick. Jem had changed his opinion all at once VOL. I. o 194 THE BROOKES OF BPJDLEMERE. about Cissy Brown and Sue Stanion. How could he ever have compared those bouncing, brazen hoydens to such a shining vision as this? He would have given a gallon of beer now, to have had his Sunday coat on ; nay, to have only washed his face and hands at the pump. ]\[others have quick perceptions, even when they are old, stupid, and rheumatic. Dame Batters saw^her son's confusion, and advanced at once to the rescue. " He was always a bit dashed with the gentle- folk, was our Jem," said she, grinning significantly at her visitor. " He's not had the schooling, you see, miss, of some on 'em, along o' my being left a lone woman so young, my dear ; for a sore heart is a heavy load, and a lame fut makes a long journey. Speak up, Jem," she added, turning briskly on her great, sheepish son. " Speak up, and tell young miss the rights of it. He've got a job at last, miss, what he don't need to be ashamed of, this turn, and that's the truth." Thus adjured, Jem rolled his eyes, gasped, grinned, and said nothing. "I was sorry you were out of work so long," observed Helen quietly, ignoring the while the A dragon's tooth. 195 reason Jem had not been employed of late at the Hall, which she knew perfectly well. "I spoke to my brother for you, and I believe he spoke to papa, but you know papa has been so ill that nothing has been decided either about the embank- ment, or the farm-road, or the draining, so my brother says we have hands enough at present ; but you see, Mrs. Batters, I hadn't forgot my promise the last time I Avas here." All this was truth, but not the whole truth. What really took place was as follows: Helen interceded with Jack, who vowed he would not have such an idle, drunken rascal about the place, not if he would do a twelvemonth's work for nothing ; but after much coaxing and entreaty from his beloved sister, whom, unlike most brothers, next to the lady in the French print, Jack es- teemed the &st of womankind, he consented to speak to the governor on the subject. Broaching it, as he hoped, in a lucid interval, the topic was received with such a storm of petulant anger that it fell incontinently to the ground, and was not thereafter alluded to. This was one of the many cases in which the Squire liked his son to have all the trouble of looking after the estate, but none o 2 196 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. of its management. Helen was aware that she had no good news to impart, but it was her nature to be considerate with her inferiors, and she let Jem down as easily as circumstances would permit. "He've got a job at last, though," resumed Dame Batters, rolling the check apron round and round her bare arms. " He've found a friend, have Jem ; and they do say a man's best friend is him as pays him reg'lar. Fifteen shillin' a week, Miss, and his beer. That's worth — what's your beer worth, Jem ? You an' me counted it up a while since. But what call have I to count it up to you, Miss Helen ? What's a young lady like you to know about beer ?" Helen blushed, as if she had suddenly been accused of di-inking that sustaining fluid in large quantities. Nevertheless, the beer question seemed not devoid of interest, for she turned away from the old woman's keen, twinkling eyes, and ad- dressed herself to the son. "I hope, Jem," said she, gravely, "that you won't buy any, now you can get as much as you want for nothino-." He could enter into this topic heartily. A dragon's tooth. 197 " 'Taiu't the beer, miss," he explained, deferen- tially, yet with conscious pride in the importance of the question, and his own familiarity with all its bearings. " 'Tain't the beer ; leastways, 'tain't the beer alone as done all the mischief. You see, miss, if a chap's dry, may be, and he turns in and takes his half-iDint, why it's neither here nor there. But when its weather, and such-like, and a chap's hanging about the town, of a errand, we'll say, and, as like as not, without a dry thread on him, why, I asks your pardon, miss, what's a chap to do ? In a ' public,' you see, miss, he gets warmed both inside and out ; then he takes his beer with a flourish of lacin' to it, as we calls it, miss ; and one man he stands to a friend, and another man he stands to a friend ; and it's, ' Jem, 'ore's luck, my boy;' an' 'Jem, you was always a staunch dog, you was ;' an' ' Jem, won't you sing us a song ?' I ask your pardon, miss; an' that's the way the money goes, an' I've done with it, I have, for one while. There !" He would have put his pipe in liis mouth again, but that he suddenly remembered his manners, and did homage once more to Helen by stuffing it into his coat-cuff. 198 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. Dame Batters listened approvingly, and reached up to pat her son's burly shoulders, a caress he acknowledged with a shake and a grunt. Helen was not tired of the beer question yet, apparently, for she had something more to say. " You haven't told me where your son is going to work ?" she observed, looking intently out of doors, as though to see if the weather still held up. " I hope, for your sake, i\Irs. Batters, it's not far from here ?" " Stoney Brothers," growled Jem, with a kind of jubilant defiance. " Stoney Brothers, That's the shop, miss — that is ; and good luck to it, says 1 ; good luck to both on 'em ; for good chaps they be, and especially Master Phil." " It's Mr. Philip, you see, miss, as got Jem the place," said his mother, interpreting, as it were, with a dignified politeness, to her visitor. " jMr. Philip, as has a good word and a kind for rich and poor, just like yourself, miss ; and hke will to like, as they say, for you can't keep cows from clover, nor yet cats from cream. And what I says is this : you tell me what a man gets actin' of, and I'll tell you what's the secret thoughts of that man's heart. Butter's bound to come if vou do but A dragon's tooth. 199 keep the churn going ; and there's not a mortal thing on this earth as Master Philip would think too good for them as comes off Bridlemere !" Probably Miss Brooke heard not one word, for she was looking intently over the wide valley, with its broad, peaceful meadows, its dotted home- steads and lines of intersecting hedgerows, to the golden streak of snnset that seemed to be resting on the distant wooded hills. A November sky could scarcely look more settled, and Miss Brooke cared as little for a wetting as a mermaid, never- theless she took an abrupt departure, hardly noticing Jem's grotesque bow, and wishing his mother a hurried farewell, because she must get home before it came on to rain. Was it only the pace at which she walked — live miles an horn", I really believe, and every footfall light and springy as a deer's — tliat brought so high a colour to her face? A colour that went and came a dozen times before she reached the stile where she met the man who asked his way, and whom she had now completely forgotten — a colour that if it would only settle in those delicate cheeks of hers, and remain for the ball to-night, when I dare say she would be very pale, must quite set at 200 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. rest any discussions as to wlio was the best-looking young woman about ]^[iddleswol•tll, besides fur- nisuing an extraordinary treat to the male muffatee-makers and other roughs in the town, who loved to conOTegate about the ball-room door, and watch carriage after carriage landing its cargo of white muslin, with remarks, it is but justice to say, neither loud nor obtrusive, though extremely sincere, on the respective merits ol" the compe- titors. Perhaps anticipation of this very gathering may have had sumetliing to du with the additional bloom on the flower. It is difficult for middle- age — male middle-age especially — to realize a girl's dreams of expectation the day she is going to a ball. To her, I imagine, the ceremonial is a compound of excitement, hope, emulation, triumph, pleasure, business and dissipation, probably with a halo of romance glorifving the whole thinf?. It is her House of Commons, her Poor-law Board, her lecture-room, her hunting-field, the betting-ring of her racecourse, the deck f)f her frigate, the front of her general action. In tliis bright, smooth arena she concentrates the ambition, the amuse- ments, the viscissitudes, the struggles, the victories A dragon's tooth. 201 — all the best and some of the worst feelings of the other sex — and yet we can sometimesfind it in our hearts to grudge the curtailment of our claret, the trouble of dressing after dinner, the incon- venience of standing all night upon not the soundest of feet, in order that she may take her part in this all-important contest. She cannot go without us, more's the pity ! Who knows ? per- haps to-night she meditates the gi'and decisive stroke that is to affect her whole life ! Shall indolence, self-indulgence, the cosy fire-side, the roomy four-poster, seduce us from our duty as a man and a chaperon ? Ring the bell ! Get coffee. Tell John to put us out the whitest of neckcloths and the easiest of boots; order the carriage, but let it not come round till it is wanted, for great results are to be obtained only by careful preparation, and the slower she is in dressing the more effective will be her first appearance in the room ; our own purgatory is also thus curtailed a little at the nearer end. Dame Batters looked long and wistfully after Miss Brooke's receding figure ; then she shook her head, and accosted Jem, who was sprawling over the fire to light his pipe. 202 THE BKOOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. " Jem," said she, " I never see our young Miss not look half so well as she done to-niofht. Her eyes was as bright as diamonds. Wasn't 'em, Jem? Oh! my poor back !" Jem made no imoiediate reply. It was his practice to be very chary of his words with mother, which was, perhaps, the reason she gave him more than due credit for wisdom. I have observed the same result from a judicious reticence in every grade of society. Presently the germ of an idea formed itself in his mind. Puffing gravely at his pipe, he seemed to chui-n the thought, as it were, and knead it well, before he tm-ned it out for inspection. Then he rose, stretched, yawned, and thus delivered himself — "Mother?" "Well, Jem?" " D'ye mind the heifer as I druv' down the green lane and by our door here, last club-mornin' twelvemonth ?" " I mind her, Jem," replied the Dame. " I tvas bad with the rheumatics that turn. Never a heifer has the Squire bred since not half as good nor yet half as good looking. No, nor ]\Ii*. Marks neither. You can't bake hot bread in a cold oven, Jem." A deagon's tooth. 203 " That heifer wiir the cleanest thing ever I saw, mother, bar our Miss Brooke." " Bar our Miss Brooke," repeated the dame. " And you druv' her to the butcher's, Jem. Didn't ye now? I mind it well !" *' Iss," said Jem. " I druv' her to the butcher's." CHAPTEK VIII. > MAEKET-DAY. HAVE already observed that Middles- wortb, on occasion, was capable of as much bustle and confusion as if its normal state had been one of brisk commercial activity, rather than complete stagna- tion and repose. The surrounding country, con- sisting chiefly of pasture land, was not, therefore, very thickly inhabited ; nevertheless, once in the week, the streets of this prosperous town were so densely thronged as to become impassable to all but the most vigorous and resolute pedestrians. It seemed as if the adjoining districts poured their whole population — men, women, children, infants in arms, with all the horses, pigs, waggons, carts, ML\RKET-DAY. 205 live stock, poultry, dogs, and animals they could muster, into Middlesworth on market-day. As in all crowds, women predominated largely. They came along the highways and byways for hours dm-ing the forenoon, returning in cl asters about dark ; for, whatever distance they might liave to journey, they seemed with one accord to defer their departure for home to as late an hour as possible. Strong, wiry, and able-bodied, her feminine roundness of form somewhat impaired and attenuated by hard fare and hard labour, what a day's work will one of these peasant women do in the fifteen hours of incessant employment that constitute her day ! First astir in the humble household to light the fire and prepare her " master's" breakfast ; last in bed at night, mending the clothes of the family by the dim flicker of one tallow-candle ; every intervening moment has its appropriate task, lightened only by the refreshment of gossip, which she takes standing, and without respite from her employ- ment, whatever it may be. There are the children to dress ; there is the cottage to clean ; bread to be brought home from the baker's; water to be drawn and carried from the well; the weekly 206 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMEEE, stores to calculate, and a difficult problem to solve which repeated practice fails to simplify, viz., twelve shillings given, and fifteen required. How to make the sum answer ! All the cleaning, all the cooking, all the care, falls on one poor pair of shoul- ders, and they carry the weight with surprising energy and much loud complaint. To walk four or five miles backwards and forwards on a hisih road because it is market-day would scarcely seem a desirable addition to her usual task, yet is this weekly pilgi'image her much-prized substitute for the morning concerts, races, archery meetings, pic- nics, and shopping of the richer class. Wet or dry, frost or sunshine, with tanned face, drenched stockings, and draggled skirt, she plods along, the pattens and umbrella in one hand, the wicker- basket — empty going, full returning — in the other. Whilst in the town she certainly does make the most of her time, loitering over her errands and prolonging her shopping to the utmost possible duration. Perhaps her amusements may be varied by the excitement of extricating a husband, father, or brother from some attractive pot-house and incipient fight ; probably to coax him home- wards, and guide his inebriated steps the whole MAEKET-DAY. 207 way, propping him up, and replacing his hat, on an average, once in every hundred yards. The red Indian's squaw prays that her child may not be a girl, for " Weary," says she " is the lot of woman." Hedging, ditching, digging, drain- ing, ploughing, turf-cutting, stone-breaking ; how- ever hard he works, I think the English labourer has a far easier time of it than the English labourer's wife. To say nothing of Eve's curse, she encounters as much physical exertion as his; and all the wear-and-tear of miud which her husband escapes. No wonder her comely Saxon face is furrowed, and her soft brown hair streaked with grey before her time. Were it not for woman's dearest privilege, her never-failing luxury, how could she exist? The solace of conversation, the delightful employment of the tongue, the inspiriting exercise of question and reply ; these smooth the roughness of her path, and turn her very tasks to pleasm-e and pas- time. The debates of a rookery on a May morn- ing ; the cackle of the Trojan army, as described by Homer ; the parrot-room, at the Zoological in the Regent's Park : the shrillest and most over- powering of these discords, would convey but a 208 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. faint notion of the monster concert provided by female voices for market-day, in tlie streets of Middlesworth ; add to tliis, the shouts of drovers, the lowing of oxen, the squealing of pigs, the clat- ter of Stoney Brothers' waggons, whips cracking in the horse-market, a cheap-jack selling on the Parade, Strider's equestrian band performing in the Square, with the clang of the church clock striking sm-ely more than four times in the hour, through and above all ; and it is reasonable to sup- pose that more than common steadiness of nerve and brain was required to buy even a yard of ribbon, in the midst of all this turmoil. It was strange how the confusion seemed to quiet the quadrupeds, though they added then- share of noise ; it was but a feeble effort, and emitted, as it were, under protest. The pigs, indeed, vindi- cated their character for energetic and peVsistent rebellion ; but the poor oxen lowed very meekly and pitifully ; nor, aghast and utterly stupefied by the suiTounding clamour, would the vouns horses show snflBcient mettle to attract a purchaser. The whole town was, more or less, pervaded by general confusion ; but its streams all converged in one whirlpool, where also booths were erected MARKET-DAY. 209 for the further discomfitm-e of tlie jiublic, viz., the open space in front of the " PUmtagenet Arms," Here a dray had stopped wdth beer, a coal-cart was discharwinp- its load, five market-women — all with parcels, three with children — had wedged tliem- selves into an impenetrable phalanx. The omnibns was starting from the door, and a farmer's gig, driven by an old man and drawn by a young horse, blocked up the archway. But for great perse- verance, and the exertion of much personal strength, Kagman de Eolle, struggling through the crowd, could never have reached his destination, the portals of this long-established hotel and post- ing house — the well known " Plant agenet Arms." Eags was in -his usual health and spuits, in that state wdiich he himself designated as " very fit," coming from the performance of his duty, or rather, of his fiiend's duty ; he shone, not indeed in the blaze of review order, but in the milder lustre of frogged frock-coat, gold-laced forage cap, much on one side, without a peak, and a pair of killing steel spurs. In tliis costume, Kags felt more equal to a social emergency than in the obscurity of plain clothes. The chambermaid and waiter looked after him admiring, as he passed VOL. I. p 210 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. into the bar ; uiitl w lieu Le leuclied that aandum. Miss iJolt, its presiding priestess, received him with a giggle and a toss of her sleek head, which denoted partiality and approval. " You'll take your glass of brown sherry, as usual, Capting de Rollo?" Siiid Miss Bolt, offering at the same time a bumper of that mixture (price one shilling), with a pretty hand garnished by many rings, whereof, the newest, I believe, had been presented, in all honour, by generous Rags. He was a favourite, vou see. as mitrht be jrathered from her condescending manner and frequent repetition of his name, with the military title she bestowed on all ranks of officers prefixed. "Is Capting Brooke in the barracks? You can tell me, Capting de Rolle, I dare say. A gentle- man have been here, asking for him, repeated." Rags was gulping at the sherry, and preparing a compliment whilst he swallowed it. '* He woidd have been, but I am on duty for him," answered the hussar, adding, gallantly, " I don't regret it either, for it keeps me in the to^vn you brighten with your presence. Miss Bolt ! " " Go along with you now, do," replied the lady, who appreciated flattery none the less that she MAKKET-DAY. 211 knew it was fired off in jest. '' I never see such a man as you, Capting de Rollo, for your cajoleries — flummery, I call it. I wonder wliat you take me for, I do." Miss Bolt had passed many years in citadels such as that in which she was now entrenched ; surrounded by outworlvs of glass, pewter, beer, brandy, nets of lemons, jars of i)ickles, baskets of game, bottles of bitters, and brown paper parcels ; fortified, moreover, by her own rigid sense of decorum, she could afford to do what execution she pleased on a besieging force, and laugh at its efforts to return her fire. These ladies who live habitually before the public, allow themselves, it is true, considerable latitude of speech and manner. Their circle is no doubt a large one ; but they are careful not to overstep its boundary. In flirtation they are great proficients. How, indeed, can it be otherwise ? Practising it as they must, hour after hour, and day after day, for months together, with every class of the male species, from peers to potato-salesmen, including the commercial tra- veller — a variety no less remarkable for audacity of ^vit, than for fluency of language — in that choice kind of repartee which depends for its success on r 2 212 THE BROOKES OF BKIDLEMEKE. pointed personal allusion, they are unrivalled ; and they possess, moreover, the advantage of a partial audience, and an encounter on tlieir own ground ; but with all tlu-ir freedom of speech, they deny themselves, scrupulously, a corresponding liberty of action ; w ith eveiy temptation to evil, they are almost without exception, untainted by vice ; and, to use their own language, " know their place, and take care to keep their-selves respectable." It did nut cost RaLTS much trouble to finish a glass of brown sherry ; yet, ere he had half swallowed his shilling's worth, as many different characters had come into, and gone out of Miss Bolt's sanctum, as pass and repass the stage of a theatre in a pantomime. The Chairman of Quarter Sessions, burly, good- humoured, and gentlemanlike, happy mixture of squire, sportsman, and magistrate, paused there to desire his Clerk of the Peace might be sent to him forthwith. He was sixteen stone, and a gi-and- father ; nevertheless, he congratulated ]\riss Bolt on her good looks and brilliant ear-rings ; wishing liimself, he said, " a young man, and a sherry drinker again, for her sake." Miss Bolt, much gratified, returned the compliment in kind, with MAKKET-DAY. 213 a sportive allusion to his youthful a2)pearaiice, Avhich sent the old gentleman away shaking his jolly sides. He was succeeded by a Iligh-Church rector, starched to the ears, and buttoned to the chin, who asked for a parcel of books, that should have come down by train ; but, of course, had not arrived. For him, Miss Bolt took pains to explain the railway arrangements, which were indeed sufficiently complicated, and in the disentangle- ment of which the good man showed less than his usual powers of perception : even his last words, however, were, " I trust everything to you, Miss Bolt ! " But, before Eags could remark, in a loud whisper, " What touching confidence ! " Mrs. Marks, from the new farm at Bridlemere, brought her little boy to be taken care of, while she went to look for ]\rarks in the horscfair. Miss Bolt turned from a business-like coquette to a loving matron in the twinkling of an eye. She stuck the little man against the back of an arm-chair, put a sweet biscuit in his fist, and was down on lier knees smoothing his llaxen curls, and making friends with him, before Eags could express admiration of her fondness for children, and resret that she had not a bouncins: family of her 214 THE BROOKES OF BP.IDLEMERE. own. The boy, sticking his fat legs straight out, and making round eyes, as children do when utterly at a loss, suffered himself to be comforted with considerable philosophy, and gazed in undis- guised wonder at De Eolle's general appearance, and the rapid succession of j\Iis3 Bolt's visitors. Mrs. Marks was hardly gone ere Marks appeared, looking for her ; and that smart young agricul- turist could not thiidv of following Bis wife without a word for his first-bom, and a glass of sherry and bitters lor himself: then he got into conversation with Rags, on the merits of a certain young horse ; and still an endless stream of Miss Bolt's admirers l)0ured in and out. The auctioneer, from the market-place, portly, well-whiskered, and high- coloured, with his thumbs in the armholes of his black satin waistcoat, and his white hat stuck very much over one eye ; the rising apothecary, from round the corner, clean-shaven, white-era va ted, smooth-spoken, affecting a gravity beyond his years, and the general pomposity of an authorised physician ; one of Mr. Dowlas's young men, with a parcel Lady Julia had ordered and forgotten ; the sporting saddler AMU Whipthong, a little ''sprung," from having entertained a few friends MARKET-DAY. 215 at an early dinner; two grave men who had ordered tea at four, p.m. ; and who looked like undertakers, but were, in reality, agents for the establishment of a new branch bubble bank. George Stoney asking for liis brother Philip, and presently, PhiHp asking for George ; a little girl belonging to nobody, who wanted change for a doubtful half-crown ; the cellarman, tlie head ostler, the parish clerk, the tax-gatherer, and presently, a select detachment of the commercial gentlemen, smiling, self-confident, and debonair, fresh from their dinner in the commercial room. It was long odds against Eags ; but he made a good fight of it, notwithstanding. The frogged coat, the spurs, the indispensable riding whip, the brown shcny, and a huge cigar, inspired him ^vith confidence. He bandied jests with the auctioneer ; he stared the apothecary out of countenance ; he accepted Will Whipthong's flattery, not entirely disinterested, with a good-humoured condescen- sion. A second glass of sherry put him on equal terms with the commercial gentlemen, who are always inclined to be sociable, especially with military men, and the rest of the visitors he found himself in a position to ignore. 216 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. Rags felt lie was monopolizing Miss Bolt — such is the vanity inherent in the male sex, that it was gratifying to know himself the object, even of a barmaid's admiration ; and he accepted it thirstily, as an earnest of successes to come in a higher sphere. Perhaps he was right. To kill a salmon, and to land a trout, are efforts of the same skill, differing onlv in degree. The nobler fisl> demands but stronger tackle and a gaudier fly — a greater hardi- hood, perlia])s ; but not a whit more art. Cinderella at the ball, is still the Cinderella of the kitchen. Toothless Lyce's heart is as near her lips as that of smiling, whispering Lalage. Castle and cottage surrender alike, when they begin to parley. Neither the dulce's nor the dairs'mun's dautjhters are proof against subtle stratagem, bold assault, or persevering blockade. From Dido to Dorcas ; from Pasiphae to Pamela, few, when they find it, but will bend to the master-hand. Though all are riddles, it seems there is but one solution for the whole sex, and Congreve was not perhaps much mistaken, when he makes them sing — " Nothing's new except our fac«s : Every woman is the same." MAEKET-DAY. 217 Bags was getting on swimmingly. It took him, indeed, several seconds to prepare his little speeches ; but they were received cordially ; and notwithstanding frequent interruptions, responded to graciously in kind. The conversation proceeded somewhat as follows : — Kags, with the utmost sweetness, " How nicely you do your hair, 3Iiss Bolt. I haven't seen such hair as yours, since we marched into Middlesworth. I suppose you wouldn't give a poor fellow a lock of it ; would you now ? — though you have plenty to spare, and it's most of it real, of course." Miss Bolt, laughing in a succession of short, shrill gasps, "The idea; I should have thought you knew better than to " Waiter, entering in a hurry, perspiring freely, " Glass of sherry and bitters, for No. 4." Miss Bolt, hardening once more in the exercise of her profession, " You know I can't abide flum- mery, Capting de EoUe. I'm sure if I thought you was serious, I should be very " Same waiter, only a trifle warmer : " Two teas, an' a pint of ale, for No. 5." Bags, taking refuge in the last drop of his sherry — 218 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. "I know, I should be very — yes, very grate- ful. I'd put it in a locket, and hang it round my neck, and never take it off, even to shave. " And if any one was asking me the reason why I wear it, I'd say it's 'cause my true love is " Waiter re-entering, compelled at last to mop his face "with a dinner-napkin. " Two letters and a parcel, for Ncf. 6." Second waiter, approaching with noiseless step, and an air of perfect candoui' — " Party in the coffee-room wislies to know when No. 6 will be back ?" Landlord's daughter, a small child, with her front teeth gone, and not yet replaced, lisping painfully — " Father says, please IMiss Bolt, did No. 6 have lus letters before he went out ?" Head ostler, venturing but haK his person, huskily, as one whose rest is habitually broken, and who drinks a mixture of gin and hay-seeds — " From the Telegraph office — message for No. 6." ]\Iiss Bolt—" Bother No. 6 1" And when Bags, improving his opportunity, MARKET-DAY. 219 condoled with her on the hardships of her position, the variety of her duties, and the public nature of a department in which she was " wasting her sweet- ness," though she neither " blushed " nor remained " unseen," he w^as a little piqued to observe that her attention wavered obviously, and fixed itself on a voice in the passage giving certain directions, in which the words " servant," " lodcfe," " lujrofaore," and " fly," were alone audible. It was a mellow, manly voice, grave in tone, rather than sad, and with a peculiarly clear enun- ciation of each syllable. A listener might be sure, without seeing him, that the o\ATier had good teeth, and shut them tight together when he spoke. Miss Bolt listened for a second or two with the utmost earnestness ; then a smile, like a sunbeam — a very diiferent smile from those she kept by her for daily use — broke over her face. She shook her ear-rings till they jingled again ; her eyes sparkled, her cheeks glowed, and she looked twice as pretty now, whUe she clasped her hands, and exclaimed — " Goodness, gracious me ! I do declare, if there isn't Sii* Archibald !" 220 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. She guessed right. AVhile she spoke, the person she called Sir Archibald entered the bar. A man of middle age — nay, middle age is but a relative term, according to the distance at which those who use it believe themselves to be from either end of the rope. Here, where it is made fast to the shore, a few fathoms out constitute middle age ; yonder, where it drips already with the spray, and is about to lose itself in the silent sea, an inch or two yet further out is considered still to indicate this doubtful period. I remember when I thought a man of five-and-thirty middle- aged. I call him *' a young fellow " now\ Well, it is not worth discussing — " A soldier's a man ; a life's but a span," and its termination as imcertain at one period as another ; so that, for most of us, there is no such thing as middle age, after all. Sir Archibald, then, was a good bit over fifty ; but, like many men who have spent their youth in a life of constant toil and hardship, he seemed rather to have hardened and toughened from repeated kneading than worn by tlie friction of continuous use. His walk was springy and elastic ; his frame very spare and muscular. Every atom of superfluous flesh seemed to have MAKKET-DAY. 221 been absorbed bv exercise, or drained from his system by tlie action of tropical heat. His very face Avas but skin and bone. Skin tanned, bronzed, and wrinkled ; bone harsh, angular, and prominent. The whole clean shaved, all but a heavy moustache, Avhich, like his haii', was rapidly turning white. Nevertheless, there was beauty still, and that of an engaging kind, in the old, worn face ; beauty such as a young girl loves to look upon, and weave for herself a drama of passion, adventure, and romance, as acted out by the 230ssessor — " So bronzed, so marred, of more tlian twice her years." She gives it credit for former attractions, which perhaps it never possessed ; destroyed by dangers and vicissitudes, on which perhaps it never looked. There is many an Elaine who allows her fancy to be thus captivated by a veteran Launcelot ; kind- ling, it may be, in turn, the embers of a dead grey fire into a feeble transient glow. Her fancy only, not her heart ; poor girl, let her keep that treasure for a younger, brighter, fresher, more conoenial love. This old man looked indeed as if his past career had been of no common order, as 222 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMEKE. if his character was one of no conventional cast. It was something in the eyes that betrayed him, that contradicted the quiet matter-of-fact, respect- able appearance of dress and demeanour he thought it consistent with his time of life to affect. They were very keen, dark, and bright; set deep under a pair of bushy broAVS, which still retained their youtliful blackness. There was habitually that glitter ni them which you will never observe but in eyes that are accustomed, day by day, to stare death out of countenance, which the youngest and freshest recruit acquires in six weeks' campaigning, if pretty close to the enemy ; also, at times, they shone with a soft, deep, tender lustre that spoke of ardent affections, undying regrets, and holy, hopeless love, chastened by memory into a reli- gion, bearing to look back on the past, because it could look forward to the future, having nothing to lose now, and therefore nothing to fear. Do not think, however, that his was a counte- nance those who run may read. Sir Archibald was the last person to carry his heart on his sleeve. To the casual observer, he was but a shrewd, hard, practised man of the world — a little MARKET-DAY. 223 abrupt, a little caustic, and somewhat intolerant ot anything like weakness or want of common sense. His popularity, nevertheless, seemed to extend beyond the bar, from which retirement Miss Bolt handed him a light for liis cigar, with as much delighted deference as if he had been a prince of the blood. Marks, returning for his child, wel- comed him back to the country with a perfect storm of congratulations. The head ostler stood grinning at him through a window that com- manded the passage. A buxom chambermaid came in three times for the same order, beaming brightly on Sir Archibald, and was rebuked, reasonably enough, by Miss Bolt for carelessness and inattention. The landlord's little daughter recognised him, and held up her toothless mouth to be kissed. The very boots touched his fur cap, and was glad to see " Sir Archibald looking so well." Philip Stoney, again in search of George, shook hands with him enthusiastically, and was quite pleased to be asked concerning the well- being of the chestnut horse. Everybody in Mid- dlesworth seemed to know this brown man, with his Avhite moustacnes, and to be glad to see him back. 224 THE BEOOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. "Who is lie?" whispered Eags to Miss Bolt. " Seems a popular chap — ought to stand for the town." " What ! don't you know Sir Archibald ?" re- plied the barmaid. I thought everybody knew Sir Archibald. AVhy, he is " Hut waiter entering in a hurry — " Xo. G come in ! Letters, parcels, bottle of soda-water, to No. (] !" '* Eveiybody don't know him, you see," persisted Rags ; for I don't. What's his name ? AVliere does he hang out ?" " Well, he don't live here — more's the pity," replied Bliss Bolt, frowning reprovingly the while at the continuous tingling of a bell, which ]irofes- sional instinct told her was jerked by the impa- tience of No. 6, and which, it is needless to observe, rang immediatelv outside the door dis- tinofuished bv that numeral. " He don't live near here, but he's often amongst us at odd times. You see, Sir Archibald is the " Interrupted again by the warm and noiseless waiter, velvet-footed, and perspu-ing, as before — " Half a lemon, lump sugar, wax candles, dozen sheets of note-paper and envelopes, for No. 6." MARKET-DAY. 225 " Well, I'm sure ! I wish No. 6 was further !" "And who the deuce is No. G ?" burst from Miss Bolt and Eags simultaneously; but it ap- peared that Sir Archibald knew even No. 6, for almost while they spoke, he turned to shake hands with a dark, fresh-colourod, smartly-dressed gen- tleman, who entered the bar to complain that his orders were not attended to with the despatch he required. " The last place I should have expected to meet you in, Multiple," said Sir Archibald, who did not seem to like No. 6 as well as No. G liked him. " Delighted to see you, I'm sure !" replied the other, with a cordiality perhaps a little overdone. " Business brought me here, as you may sup- pose — business and pleasure combined — or I shouldn't be staying in this cursed hotel" Miss Bolt looked daggers. " Gentleman !" said she. " Nice gentleman, yuu are, I think ! — not my sort, at any rate." But her sort of gentleman, or none, he was a customer, so she wisely said it to herself, " That means you are going ^to the ball to- night," observed the other ; and Miss Bolt thought VOL. I. Q 226 THE BROOKES OF BEIDLEMEEE. he drew Lis bushy eyebroA^■s down over his eyes closer than before. " I suppose I must look in for half an hour," answered Mr. Multiple, running his white hand through his black hair. " Not much to tempt one, I fancy, though, down here. You know the people better than I do, Sn Archibald, beauties and all. I suppose the whole thing is ver)- pro- \incial ?" There was a gleam of amusement in Su- Archi- bald's eye, but he observed, with creditable gravity— " A London man is quite a windfall here, i\[ultiple. The Middlesworth girls are celebrated for tenacity. If you dance, they'll run you off yom* legs, like an over-driven post-horse. If you sit still, they'll swarm about you, like flies round a honey-pot. I advise you to look out ; not one of them but carries her grapnels, and they don't drag their anchors, I promise you." Multiple suspected his friend was laughing at him. He was shrewd enough to know that vanity as regards the other sex was his foible, and to conceal his weakness as far as possible ; also, the fencer's first instruction, never to betray how MAEKET-DAY. 227 nearly his guard had been broken, so he answered gravely — " A ball is a ball, even a hundred miles from town. I've done a good day's Avork to-day, and I have a right to amuse myself. Two-and-twenty letters written, and a ten-mile walk, Sir Archi- bald. Pretty w' ell that for a cockney ?" '•'I hope you have made it answer," was the reply ; " a man ought to be handsomely paid for all that exertion of body and mind." " I must have turned about five hundred," said Multiple, carelessly. " You make your ' monkey' in a shorter time on a race-course, but really it's almost as hard work. It's not worth my while to be absent from our place, under a good many hundreds, as you know. Sir Archibald." " Indeed, I did not !" replied the latter; "but I'm glad to hear it, for your sake. I only wish my time was half as valuable ;" and he wondered the while what could induce his friend to make this astounding statement. He knew him well enough to be aware that its truth or falsehood had nothing to do with its enunciation. He reflected that the other knew him also well enough to have spared his breath. What puzzled o2 228 THE BEOOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. Mm was, why it should be published here, for the benefit of a barmaid and a young officer in undress. " It's a nice country about Middlesworth," added Multiple, in a sly, soliloquizing tone. " I've seen the prettiest view to-day that has pleased my eye for a long time, and that sort of thing makes an impression on me. I am like Beppo's Count, you know — ' Wax to receive, and marble to retain.' I must have another look at it before long. And where do you think I've been, Sir Arcliibald, on my way back ? Why, right through the park at Bridlemere." The bushy'eyebrows went down this time with- out a doubt. ]\Iiss Bolt was watching them, and she was sure of it. " A fine place, isn't it ?" said Sir Ai-chibald, carelessly ; " and been a long time in the family. Good morning, Multiple ; I'm rather late as it is, and must be moving now." So, ■^^•ith a cour- teous bow to Miss Bolt, who returned it en- thusiastically, he walked forth, and plunged into the whirlpool of traffic stiU seething, and roar- MARKET-DAY. 229 ing, and raging, in front of tlie "Plantagenet Arms." Mr. Multiple retired to consume the additional dozen of note-paper and envelopes in the imaginary privacy of No. 6. Rags and ]\Iiss Bolt whispered confidentially on matters, I imagine, of a nature which she designated " flummery ;" and Sir Archibald, puffing thoughtfully at his cigar, walked down the High Street of Middlesworth, absorbed in profound, and apparently somewhat anxious meditation. Whilst in the heart of the town, and in the midst of the market-day bustle, he was interrupted at every step by some hearty greeting, some weather-beaten face; but as he gradually ap- proached its outskirts, these became less frequent ; and by the time he reached the bridge of which I have already spoken, he was in complete soli- tude, and immersed in his own thoughts. To judge by his face, these were of no very envi- able nature. Its expression had quite changed since he first accosted Miss Bolt, in the bar of the " Plantagenet Arms." Then he was bright, bene- volent, and smiling; now he seemed anxious, uneasy, and even wretched. He jerked the end 230 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. of his cigar into the stream, with an impatient action that suggested an oath, and walked on very fast, taking the footway to Bridlemere. It was hite in the afternoon, within an hour of dark ; a breeze, rising with the approach of night, sighed moumfiilly through the woods that crested the rising gi*ound about the hall. He reached the stile at which Helen had bestowed her unwill- ing answer on the pedestrian, but" there was no need for Sir Archibald to ask his way. No need, for every gleam in the landscape, every fence, every fuiTow, every tree in the hedgerow s, seemed burnt in, as it were, by fire, on his memory. There was no more chance of his forgetting them than there is of your forgetting that summer sun- set when heaven seemed to have come dowTi for you upon earth ; or that cold, leaden dawn, when you looked about you, stupefied, and wondered whether there could be sorrow like to your sorrow, and spoke to your crushed heart aloud, telling it, that henceforth there was neither hope nor rest for ever ; laughing, perhaps, in bitter scorn, rebellious and erect, where it had been wiser to kneel, and weep, and pray. If Sir Archibald had been stricken blind some MAKKET-DAY. 231 twenty years before, he could still have described every turn in that walk from J\liddles^^ ortli to Bridlemere as plainly as he saw it to-day. A man who has lived half a century, cannot but have known strange and sad experiences. It needs no stirring career, it needs no miglity tempests on the great ocean of life, to have made him familiar with its dangers and its shipwrecks. There are quicksands, shifting and treacherous, in the shallows : there are hidden reefs for him who creeps along the shore. The bai-k that stands boldly out into blue water is perhaps the safest, after all. But wliatever his course has been, and whatever reverses he has met with, memory is to him either a blessing or a curse, according as he is climbing slowly, wearily, yet hopefully, towards the golden hills, or speeding faster and faster, reckless, on liis downward way. Horace tells us, and the heathen poet was a philosopher in his way, that nothing can rob us of the past. A sound crack on the pate, producing concussion of the brain, had probably escaped his reasoning. We are neither philosophers nor heathens, and have a nobler and fuller satisfaction in the conviction that nothing can rob us of the 232 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMEEE. future. And is there not some strange, mysterious affinity, of which we are vaguely conscious, like men in a dream, between the past and the future ? For good, though not for evil, shall not that which hath been be again ? Sin and sorrow, we believe, will indeed die to all eternity ; but shall not love, thougli it has come down on earth to be bruised and soiled, and trodden under foot, shed its well- remembered fragrance around us again, renewed and pm-ified, holy and stainless, for ever in heaven ? Sir Archibald's brow cleared as he walked on. Soon he entered the park, and made straight for the shrubberies that surrounded the house of Bridlemere. Now and then he paused, as if to note some alteration ; a vista that had closed, a plantation that had grown up, or a tree that had been cut down. His eye grew brighter at every step, and presently stooping to unfasten the gate of the wire fencing that protected Helen's garden, something like a tear trembled on his eyelash. If so, it was a tear of pure and unmixed joy, for a woman's light foot-fall came fast along the walk, a woman's dress rustled amongst the evergreens, and Helen, emerging from their shadow, seized MARKET-DAY. 233 him violently by both hands, shaking them up and down with a triumphant welcome, while she exclaimed rapidly, and breathless with the haste she had made : " I rushed to the front door when I heard the fly ; then I knew you'd walked, and I was sure you'd go through my garden, and oh, Uncle Archie, I'm so glad you're come !" CHAPTER IX. " UXCLE AECHIE." ^_2^'0 account for Sir ArcliibalJ's arrival at Bridlemere, and his cordial reception by his niece, it is necessary to look into his antecedents, and for the elucidation of these I must ask you to go back quite a quarter of a century, and to take your position with me on the wide door-steps of a certain edifice in St. James's Street, which was then known as Crock- ford's Club. At that period this was a favourite resort with some hundreds of the gentlemen of England, who, finding life in Loudon not sufiSciently varied and interestino: durino; the rest of the twentv-fours into which they contrived to condense a week's amuse- " UNCLE ARCHIE." 235 ment, were accustomed to congregate here at mid- night, for the purpose, so they said, of social gossip and cigar smoking. I am bound to accept this explanation, for there were certainly many temptations to remain up- stairs, within — a large, lofty drawing-room, heavily furnished and decorated, all gold and crimson — a long supper-room, lustrous with innumerable wax- lights, glancing and glittering on glass, plate, china, and the gaudy variety of the choicest supper that could be laid for a hundred epicures, on a snowy-wliite tablecloth. Here, feasting at the board, sat scores of tlie best known and best looking faces in London, in clean white neck- cloths, and the rigid costume of the English gentleman dressed for dinner, but all with their hats on. Waiters, solemnly and studiously attired, handed difterent delicacies about with dignified persuasion, and proffered cooling drinks, of skiKul compounds, in which champagne was the weakest and least expensive ingredient. Naturally, tliere was no want of conversation, yet, at intervals, above the hum of voices, might be heard a subdued rattle, and a sharp, though smothered rap, pro- ceeding from an adjoining apartment, where 236 THE BROOKES OF BEIDLEMERE. shaded lamps shed a softer histre on a long green table, protected from the doorway by a folding- screen. Here people played hazard, and played it very high. Now and again, a performer would enter the supper-room quietly and unobtrusively, to take his place at the board, but his success, or the reverse, could hardly be gathered from his demeanour. The ^\^nners, I think, seemed more inchned to trifle with " cups," and' such mixtures, whilst the losers plunged rashly into lobster-salad, and drank their champagne unadulterated. Perhaps, to a very intimate friend, one would hold up two or more white-gloved fingers (they always played in white kid gloves), to indicate the landing of so many hundreds ; or another, with a scarce perceptible shrug, might whisper, he had "had a baddish night," but beyond this, the external composure observed would have edified a stoic. A man might be made or marred, but he gave no sign. Then, whether he lost or won, ate or drank, he would go down and smoke his cigar in the cool night-air on the steps. It is but a few minutes past twelve. Very hot, even here, outside. People have hardly arrived yet from the House, from the opera (there is only "UNCLE ARCHIE." 237 one opera in this remote period, and Grisi is young, and oh, how beautiful ! with a voice " To draw Another host from heaven, to break heaven's law "), from their various evening haunts and evening engagements. So two young gentlemen, of whom one is subsequently to become a peer, and the other a gold-digger, have the steps to themselves. They are well dressed, well looking, and betray that air of being bored, without being tired, which sits so naturally on men who have nothing to do, and do it perseveringly, from morning till night. Says the future peer to the future gold-digger — " What has become of Archie Brooke ? Wasn't here last night ; wasn't here night before. Can't be gone out of town, for I saw his servant to-day. Didn't ask servant ; fool not to." Gold-digger, much exhausted from having sat for an hour in the drawing-room at White's, over the way — " Wouldn't have told you. Good man ; never knows. Wouldn't say his master was in the next room if you were talking to Archie through the door. Wish my man would send me away ; try for Brooke's." 238 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. Peer prospective — " Wonder if lie's bolted. Deuced hard up.^ Won a cracker here three nights ago ; suppose he'd take that with him. Brother wouldn't pay his debts, of course." Gold-digger in posse — " Of course not ! Know mine wouldn't. Here comes Tiny. Same regi- ment. Safe to know." Tiny, who is something over six feet high, vdi\\ a merry, girlish face at the tep, and who is going to the bad as fast as only a mother's darling can, bounces up the stej)S, and is stopped by the pair. " Brooke ?" says Tiny, in answer to their in- quiries, " Gone a crowner ! No end of a crowner ! Sent in his papers. I'm sorry for it, though it gives me a step. I say, I think I shall go in and have a shy." So they all go in, and " have a shy," in which process Tiny anticipates his one-and-twentieth birth-day to a tune that astonishes even the family man of business, when he comes to arrange this young gentleman's affairs. It was perfectly true. Archie Brooke, in a regi- ment of the Guards, popular, good looking, fond of London, fond of society, above all things fond " UNCLE AKCHIE." 239 of his profession and his battalion, had sent in his papers to sell, and taken his brother officers com- pletely by surprise. His Colonel, an old Penin- sular (there were Peninsulars then, as there are Crimeans now), had a private interview with him, to dissuade the most promising of his chickens from so irremediable a step. If it was money matters, he even proposed to help him, and that was a fine trait in the old soldier, and appreciated as such by the young one. No ; it was not money. He offered to show the Colonel his account at Cox and Greenwood's, with some hundreds (I fear partly the produce of the "cracker" above hinted at) stand- ing to his credit. Why was he resolved, then, to throw all his chances so completely overboard ? Had he got into a scrape ? Would he confide in his old friend and Colonel ? Unless it was very bad indeed, surely they might pull him. through. No ; he was in no scrape. He required no j)ulling at all. He was resolved to leave London — to leave England. There were reasons for it, he told the Colonel ; strong reasons ; he could not explain ; and m ten days from that interview with his commanding officer. Captain Brooke, late of the Brigade of Guards, was dazzling his eyes in the sun-glint 240 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. off the Line jMecliten-anean, from the quay at Marseilles. I presume nobody ever remained in that city an hour longer than necessary, combining, as it does, the dirt, the heat, the sterility of Africa, with the incessant bustle and activity of France. It was not long before Brooke found himself in Algeria, on terms of the utmost cordiality with a whole French garrison, in the city of Constantino. Here his military predilections tempted him sorely to don the lai-ge, loose pantalm, and well-cut braided jacket of the Chasseurs d'^Urique. What he wanted was excitement, adventure, iucessant effort, and oft-recurring danger ; something to stifle memory, and leave no time for thought, A campaign against the Khabyles would be the very thing. But he could not quite make up his mind about the justness of the Frenchman's cause. Was it right thus to hunt the Emir to death for the advancement of civilization ? Was it worthy of the great nation thus to appeal, unprovoked, to the arbitration of the sword? Campaigning for sheer bitterness of spirit was all very well, but there were two sides to the question, just as there were two opposing forces to constitute the cam- "UNCLE ARCHIE." 241 paigii. Tlie arguments were nicely balanced, and Archie Brooke, at this period of his life, was no great casuist. He could not make up his mind whether he ought to draw the sword with the invaders, or join " The long-winged Hawk of the Desert," figliting gallantly for independence, and liberty, and life. The story goes that the ex-guardsman, sitting in a cafe at Constantine, by a little round table covered with a marble slab, having a glass of absinthe before him, an infamous French cigar in his mouth, and a gay party of French subalterns looking on, deliberately tossed up whether he should ride in their ranks as a volunteer, or pass the outposts at once, and offer his services to Abd-el- Kader. The louis came down '* tails," and the chivalrous Frenchmen shook hands with him all round, wishing him a cordial and kindly farewell, though henceforth they would never meet again save as cruel enemies in a warfare so fierce that quarter was too seldom asked, and indeed far too often denied. Archie Brooke turned up again with a tanned face and a close-shaven head, under a white bur- nouse, at Abd-el-Kader's right hand, when the VOL. I. 8 242 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. Emir held a certain review, in which ten thousand of the Chivahy of the Desert ranked past him, horse by horse, and man by man. Horse clean, wiiy, sinoAV}^, untiring ; man spare, swarthy, fierce, unconquered : the beast and its master remarkable alike for flashing eye, distended nostrils, clean, small, noble head, and a haughty, tameless bear- ing that seemed to smack Avildly of the Avaste. Tlie Emir himself looked no unwortliv leader for sucli a host. His keen eye ^glittered like a falcon's under the snoAvy hood whicli threw his war-worn face into deep shadow. His nervous, wiry figure, of whicli the muscular proportions were scarcely concealed by the loose, white gar- ments that drooped about him, sat erect upon his lofty cumbrous saddle, unlike those of his chiefs, ornamented only by a border of seed-pearls embroidered on its velvet housings. His black mare, with her clean, small head and scarlet nostril, arched her foam-flecked neck, as she champed and fretted on a powerful bit, under the loose rein and light touch of her rider's hand. A cord of tAvisted tissue, striped like a serpent's skin, secured the hood of the Emir's burnouse ; a sharp sabre hung, edge uppermost, at his belt. " UNCLE ARCHIE." 248 Save these, arms and ornaments he had none ! Yet the Englishman^ scanning that white draped figure on the good black mare, standing out from the array of Arab chivalry, apart and by itself, wondered no longer at the Emir's ascendancy over his people, at their heroic and unreasoning devotion to one, in whom, like a second Mahomet, they believed, as warrior, priest, and king. Soon the ten thousand horsemen formed in their respective tribes, and a chosen trooj) from each curveted into a smooth, green space before the Emir, and drew up in opj^osing bands. Then a chief on a chestnut stallion, thick and muscular, like one of the Elgin marbles, dashed out into the midst, and reined short up, man and horse quiver- ing all over with suppressed energy and fire. Another, wheeling round him at a gallop, cast an unerring spear within a hand's-breath of liis turban ; and the chestnut horse, sj)ringing to speed at a bound, dashed off in hot pursuit. A dozen strides and he had caught his enemy : the lance was up to strike, and so like fierce earnest was this warrior's play, it seemed as if it must transfix the fugitive. But no, a turn of wrist, a touch of heel, the chestnut skimmed aside like a swallow on the E 2 244 THE BEOOKES OF BT^IDLEMERE. wing, and swooped at another foe, fresh emerged from the opposing phahinx. Another and another shot out to swell the game, and then a dozen, and then a score, till the whole were engaged, and the eye saw nothing but one wild whirl of streaming manes and glancing steel, and floating draperies, and flash of pistols, through a cloud of dust ; and here and there, above the dim confusion, the fragments of a shivered spear, shot^ high into the air. Then the dust rolled awav. The skirmish subsided ; cliiefs were standing by panting steeds, stroking the pointed ears and dripping, shining necks of their favourites. Here a girth had been broken, there a warrior rolled over, man and horse, on the sand : but beyond this, so skilful were the human, so well broken the animal performers, that nothing resembling a casualty had occurred. Abd-el-Kader bowed his head in dignified approval to the warlilce Arab on the chestnut stallion, who galloped up to signify the conclusion of the sports by flinging down a broken lance at the Emir's feet. The play was over — the real drama was about to begin. The Chieftain signed to his lieutenants to attend "UNCLE archie/' 245 him. All but one came cantering up and wheeled into their places on his flank. This last was he whom Abd-el-Kader most favoured and most trusted. He rode in slowly and steadily at a walk. Brooke was watcliing the Emir, and for an instant saw his dark eye dilate, but not another sign of discomposure betrayed itself either in the pale, calm face or the stately, motionless figure. Not a sign, and yet in that instant Bou Maza levelled his pistol point-blank at the Chieftain's heart: the next, his horse, the noblest in the desert, stumbled on that smooth, level surface, fell on his head and rolled completely over his rider, who lay confused and helpless, with the smoking pistol, which had gone off harmless in his grasp. The Englishman was the first down to catch the traitor by the throat, though his hand had hardly closed ere a score of sabres were flashing in the sun, a score of voices hoarse with rage dooming the fallen man to instant death ; but the Emir's calm, cold tones rose above the angry Arab gutturals, as they had risen many a time, distinct and measured, above tap of drum and roll of musketry, and swelling battle-cry of France, and the Emir's face looked upon the tumult pale. 246 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. mild and peaceful, as though reposing in his harem, wliile he spoke. '• Harm him not !" said he, raising his voice slowly to command attention. " In the name of Allah, lift him up, give him back his arms, let his hands be free, and bring hira here, that he may look ujx)n my face and live !" Bou Maza was a bold man, or he had hardly undertaken the crime which had thus been so strangely thwarted. He was an Arab, too, and could accept death with the strange composure that never seems to desert those fatalists when face to face with the inevitable ; but his features worked with something keener than terror, and the foam was on his lip, while his black eyes sought the ground, and he shrank and cowered like a dog before the man whom he had just failed to murder, "Bou Maza," said the Emir, in deep, quiet, sorrowful tones, " do you think I had not fore- seen, and could not have prevented, your attempt on your Chieftain's life? When you left the Council yesterday it w as in your heart, that you would to-day murder your Father, as it was in mine that von would fail and be foronven. "UNCLE ARCHIE. 247 " Can you not see the band of Allah, who caused your best horse to stumble and fall over a blade of tender gi-ass, that you might not slay his prophet, whom he has destined to victory ? " Bou Maza, go in peace. Go to the enemies of your country and your faith. Tell them of your treachery — tell them of your failure. Tell them that Allah protects his prophet alike from the steel of a traitor as from the bullet of an open enemy. You shall have a free pass to their out- posts. Take with you horse and arms, water and provisions. Go in peace, I say, and look upon my face no more ! " The Emir was as good as his word. Bou Maza was permitted to pass out of the camp, and proceed unmolested to his new friends, who received bim with no great cordiality, as, indeed, he could hardly expect they should, after an attempt of so heinous a nature, which had, more- over, failed at the moment of execution. Archie Bil^oke used often to declare that he bad never thoroughly realized "chivalry" till he looked on the Emir's calm, noble face, wliile he extended pardon and protection to the traitor. I am not writins' Sir Archibald Brooke's 248 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. biograpliy. Another scene or two, and I have done. If circumstances help to form the character of the man, the man's nature again forces him into those situations wliich re-act upon it in their turn. An adventurer at thirty is an adventurer all his life. Brooke came back to England after Abd-cl-Kador was taken prisoner. Nay, he even re-appeared in St. James's Street, rode in the Park, went to the Derby, staid a whole fortnight in town, was a little disappointed to find how many friends had forgotten him, and how the few whose memories were more tenacious, had not missed him at all, and thought he was still in the Guards ! The Squire, too, his elder brother, had run up for the Great liace, leaving Mrs. Brooke in the country. " There was another coming," he said, with a laugh and deprecating shrug of the shoulders. " Archie would be with them directly the nurse was out of the house. Of course, his old room was always ready for him at Bridlemere." And Archie promised, and shook^his brother cordially by the hand ; but long before the functionary alluded to had left the bedside of her pale, happy, lovely charge, he was battling with a sou'-wester in the Atlantic, steam against storm "UXCLE AKCHIE." 249 — the one power groaning, gasping, throbbing, quivering, yet wresting some two knots an hour from the headlong violence of the other — and ere the second boy was weaned, his uncle had already gained more than one success in South America, commanding a brigade of ruffians, in comparison with whom his old friends the Khabyles were perfect gentlemen and philanthropists. Sir Archibald never liked to talk much of this staire of his career. I think he was a little ashamed of his cause and his comrades. He had joined them, too, in a moment of morbid and unworthy feeling. What right had he to disci- pline robbers, and point guns, and manoeuvre man- slaughter on a great scale, because the old dull pain at his heart still goaded him to action ? Could he not drink his opiate, so to speak, but out of a human skull ? He recrossed the Atlantic after a time, and went no more to England, but flitted through France into Eastern Europe, and set himself down for a brief resting space within an hour's ride of Bucharest, and took a farm on that rich Wallachian soil, and reaped one abundant harvest, and so departed to rove about aimlessly as before. 250 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. He lingered in Turkey for a while, as those do who are tired of European life and manners. And, indeed, so utterly are East and West at variance, that a man to tolerate either must be thoroughly disgusted with its converse. Sir Archibald liked the people : not the Greeks, but the bold, dominant Osmanli race. He appreciated their solemn courtesy, their grave, proud bearing, their truth, their hospitality, their^ courage, their generosity, their defiance of misfortune, their contempt for death — nay, he admired their in- tolerant pride of character and strict observance of religion ; while he smiled to note the utter freedom which abroad, at least, they affected, from the female yoke. He thought of settling in Turkey, and so thinking, watched those white sea- birds that flit to and fro across the surface of the Bosphorus, never resting wing nor dippinn- plumage in the fair cool wave, and wondered whether he too was doomed to be a homeless wanderer in the world for evermore ! The leaven w^as working in him, you see, all this time. It drove him into action, and in action he found the anodyne which he was fain to accept for rest. II UNCLE ARCHIE." 251 About this period, a little cloud like that in Holy Writ, " no bigger than a man's hand," appeared in Syria, above the chapel-roof that covers in the most sacred spot on earth. By-and- by it had spread over the whole heavens from east to west, and the Cossacks were gathering in the Ukraine, and the Eoyal Irish recruiting in Galway, and Omar Pasha was watching his over- whelming enemy on the Danube, with an army of brave men, half-starved, half-equipped, and wretchedly officered, save for a handful of adven- turous Englishmen who had volunteered their services in the cause of the Sultan. The Turkish General was sitting quietly on his horse, a little out of the line of fire from a Eussian field-work, against which it was his intention to advance. Omar Pasha could feed an army, could manoeuvre an army, and could fight an army. Moreover, he was gifted with that coup d'oeil which distingTiishes at once between the apparent and the real key to a position. He was muttering a few phrases of discontent in German, for it was already daylight, and a new redoubt, skilfully engineered, had sprung up in the night. The Eussians must have laboured hard, and without intermission, for, 252 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. though the work was low, it was carefully sloped and finished oif, while the few guns it mounted commanded every approach to the chief earth- work it was constructed to protect " We must have it, Excellency !" exclaimed an English officer of Engineers, with a determined look on his comely red-bearded face. *' It's well for w-8,«" he added, shutting his glasses, and jmlling his horse's head up from the wet moYning herbage, "that they could not put it fifty paces further back. I can get a battalion along that ravine tolerably under cover till within pistol-shot. We must storm it then, and carry it with the bayonet ! " " Who is to lead them ? " asked the General, mistrusting sadly an unwieldy Pasha for so dashing a business. " Oh ! Major Brooke will lead them, of course," answered the other. " It's just in his line. Excel- lency, we will have it in a quarter of an hour." No more was said, but in ten minutes' time, a bat- talion of blue coats and red fez-caps was seen to disappear in a wooded hollow, under the command of an officer, strangely attired in high riding- boots, a plaid shooting-coat, and a low round hat, with a white cloth round it, carr}'ing a sword by " UNCLE ARCHIE." 253 his side, and a formidable walking stick in his hand. Whilst they seemed to be swallowed in the earth, a heavy well-sustained fire opened over the General's head against the principal defence, and presently the blue coats and red caps emerged from the ravine in tolerable order, fonned, wavered, hesitated, and finally disappeared again, leaving a figure, in riding-boots and plaid coat, wildly shouting, threatening and gesticulating on the bank. The Engineer officer laughed, swore, and then laughed again. Omar Pasha shook his head, with a grim, sarcastic smile. " It is a gallant Englander," he observed quietly, after a few moments of suspense, dm-ing which the figure descended, and re-appeared from the ravine, with some two or three score of bolder followers, whom it was urging on by much vigorous persuasion, and a few blows from the stick. Then, whirling that weapon round its head, it made a dash, apparently by itself, against the redoubt. But the spark had kindled now, the savage Turkish spirit flashed out, and cauo;ht like wild-fire. Thev swarmed like wasps from the ravine — they dashed, pell-mell against the earth-work ; there was a loose, irregu- 254 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. lar volley, a vrikl, heart-stirring cheer, and when the cheer died out. and tlie smoke drifted heavily away, the crimson flag, witli its glittering crescent, was waving from the parapet, and tlie slope beneath the outwork was dotted with blue prostrate figures, and white up-turned faces, gleaming strange and ghastly in tlie morning sun. "Well done, Brooke!" said the Engineer to himself, as he cantered oil" ti> hiisten some poor bullocks bringing a gun up from tlie rear. " These guardsmen turn out some d d good officers ! though w here they learn their duty is more than I can tell ;" and he shook his head gravely, as a man who concedes unwillingly a self-evident propo- sition. How ^lajor Brooke's distinguished conduct affected the result of the action has nothing to do with my story, but ^^hen the Engineer asked him subsequently by what process he had acquired a knowledge of his profession in London, Brooke only laughed, and told him how the Great Duke himself had testified to the difficulty of getting thirty thousand men into or out of Hyde Park. Peace came within six months after the fall of the Eussian stronghold, and Colonel Brooke (he was a Colonel in the Turkish service now), thought " UNCLE ARCHIE." 255 of crossing into Asia, and visiting China by way of Tartary and Tliibct — thought of emigrating to Australia — thought of tracing the Nile to its source — thouglit of ex})loring Central Africa, and — found himself in I'aris. Here he ■svas rather a lion, notwithstanding that lions were plenty for a little while; but he soon got tired of it — soon began to find that city of glitter and whitewash, and perpetual motion and continual out-of-doors full-dress, and eternal drumming, dancing, dining and standing about — was a waste, too, more dreary than a IMexican plateau, more toilsome than a rocky spur of Mount Atlas. The French ladies wondered at him hugely. It was strange to find a man so cold, yet so self- possessed. Nothing shy, nothing awkward, nothing of the " type Anglais " about him in speech or manner ; pleasant, courteous, with a good deal of their own keen sense of humour, their tendency to sarcasm and repartee, but in all matters border- ing on romance, or even flirtation, a stone, an im- penetrable stone. " Cest iin ours vols tu, Clotliilde?" said a pretty Marquise, summing him uj) in confidence to a friend, whom she suspected of designs on this man 2jG THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. of marble. "Un ours instruit, hien-eyitendu. Un ours qui a voyage meme, et qui fait toilette. Enjin, un ours qui ne danse pas, 7nais qui fait danser son mo7}de ! " lie had got satlly tired of I'aris ere uiiother re- creation was j)rovi»led for liini in tlie last spot on eartli at wliieh an ernption \va-; anticipated, in the eonntrv where England had been walking: se- curely over a volcant) for year:', and started to find it burst fortli over a score of kinf^doms in a nijrht. He saw an aecount of the Indian outbreak in an English paj)er, sitting over his absinthe, at three o'clock, in the rue liivoli. Uy ten, next morning, he was at London Bridge ; by seven that night, he was leaving tliis station in the train for Calcutta direct, with his appointment anil a pair of im- proved saddle-bags. He w as with Sir Colin at Lucknow, and reached Windham in time to take his part in the hard- fought defence of Cawnpore. Then came a severe wound, a raging, wasting fever, and he was down for weeks and weeks, feeble, prostrate, delirious, iu that blighting atmosphere, and under that burning smi. Archie Brooke rose, like manv others, from a " DNCLE AECHIE." 257 bed of suffering, having found out certain truths tlmt do not strike men so keenly in the saddle or the trenches, as on the stretcher of a hospital. He was a calmer, happier man after that weary period. The impatience, the restlessness, the craving for incessant action were gone, and cudy the (piiet energy, and cool good-humoured courage, which were a part of his very nature, remained. He had discovered, that for happiness, duty was a better substitute than excitement, ^\'llerever he could be of service, he went ; wherever he went, he worked Jiarder, more quietly, more unselfishly, than other people. Time, or rather I\rercy, had healed the great wound now — the great wound that had been first dealt by a beloved hand, and then torn open once again by the relentless gripe of death. Twice had the pain been keener than he could bear ; now there was left a dull, aching sense of void, but sorrow had given place to resignation — resigna- tion was about to blossom into Hope. Not the hope that is dependent on earthly uncertainties, and scarce deserves the name, but the sure and certain hope that already grasps confidently at the other woi-ld. He could have borne to 2:0 to VOL. I. S 258 TUE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. England now. He caught liiraself often thinking of the cool English hreezes, and the smiling Euffiish vallevs, and the white-tliorn on the hedges, nay, tlie very hutter-cn|is in the May meadows, ricii with green and gold. Jie longed to be at liome just ouce again, were it only to see the grass waving tall and fresh over a beloved grave. lie was employed in the pacifu'ation of the Lebanon, a duty for which his familiarity with French arrangements and Eastern intrigue espe- cially iitt«'d liim ; and when that complicati.'d business was concluded, came back after his lont; absence, to be knighted by his Sovereign. If, on iiis previous return to London, he had been sur- lirLsed to llnd how few people recognised him, he might have been gratified now, at his first levee, with the curiosity evinced concerning the quiet, dark, war-worn man, with all those foreign orders on his breast, and amused at the answers of old schoolfellows at Eton, and companions afterAvards in the world, who had quite forgotten him, and could not tell who he was. After he had seen his brother s children, and especially Helen, Sii' Archi- bald completely abandoned an idea he had once "UNCLE ARCHIE." 259 formed of taking service with his old employer, the Sultan, and remaining entirely abroad. 1'lie girl seemed to have found her way at once to her soldier-uncle's heart. She wondered indeed at the deep tenderness with which he WiHild lix his eyes on her face, and why there should he a moisture in tliem sometimes, that was almost like tears; liut with the instinct ol'Iicr sex, ^liss Brooke soon found out that her word was law with Uncle Arcliie, and she petted him, and apjtealed to him, and do- mineered over him, and ordered him about accord- ingly. When Helen " came out," it was Sir Archibald who arranged her presentation by the great Lady Waywarden herself; and I believe he bespoke (and }>aid for) the beautiful dress which she wore, of which, as of her chaperon's, was there not an account, sublime and incomprehensible, in the Morning Post? When his niece rode in the Park, as ride she would, under a broiling sun, in the hottest part of the day ; it was her uncle whom she commanded to take care of her, and whose horsemanship she was good enough to commend, for the Brookes, like many of our English families, were centaurs from the cradle ; whom she paraded s 2 260 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLE:\IERE. up and down at all places, untiring ; and scolded if he ventured to complain of the heat. " Yon, dear, of all peojde! "Who have been in Africa and India. Al»suid ! ^^'hy, Uncle Archie, I call it de—lightful ! " The girl was immensely proud of him, quoting him, and adopting liis ojiinious on most subiocts with a facility truly feminine; and the pair had all sorts of private jukes and undei-standings between themselves, as indeed was to ho expected, for ill liOndon they were inseparable: and if she wanted to be taken anywhere in the country. Sir Archibald would throw over every engagement, and come down at a moment's notice, to attend on his niece. He lived in Loudon now, very quietly and un- ostentatiously, therefore people believed him to ho immensely rifh, and consequentlv. horribly stingy. That he was neither the one nor the other could have been substantiated by his banker, and a great many very poor people, in some of the most squalid rookeries of the town. Society, with its usual discrimination, wondered what he would do with his money, and why he did not marry ! It seems that a bachelor is never safe, not even " UNCLE ARCHIE." 261 a bachelor with white moustaches and thirty years' campaigniug over his head. There are, therefore, women to be found, I presume, who spare neither age nor grey hairs. How are we to distinguish them? Do they go about disguised like the others at dinner and evening parties, cool, shining, beautiful, and well dressed? I often marvel at the men to wliom these goddesses stoop so kindly ; often try hard, and fail, to see what it is in Endy- mion, coarse, ill-mannered, awkward, and perhaps irritable, that draws Diana down from the lustrous regions where she reigns amongst her nymphs. Is it an attractive force on his part, or a spon- taneous effort on liers? Is it a merciful pity for our sex, or a cordial dislike of her own ? Even at Sir Archibald's age it is not always a waste of time to make love to an elderly gentle- man ; but after a career like his, an honest stand- up battle with self, fought fairly out, and hardly won at last, it is like watering a sand-bank in hopes of raising a crop. The labour is indeed absorbed quietly, gratefully, and to any extent, but there is no result from it whatever. The marquise was right about Sir Archibald after all. For women he was a bear with good 262 THE BROOKES OF BEIDLEMERE. mannei-s ; but a bear who had never broken his chain. There was yet a link or two left that the poor bear could not have found in his heart to part Avith. Other bears keep whole sets of rusty fetters hidden away in their dens — lockets, rings, gloves, flowei-s, eftbrts of embroidery, packets of faded yellow letters tied about witlx dingy ribbons once so bright and new. Other bears even like sometimes to dwell upon their servitude, to talk of their capture, their teachers, their resistance, and the red-hot foot-hold on which they learned their steps. But this bear kept all such matters for his own reflection ; and thougli he hugged the chain-Hnks close to his bearish heart, they were very simple, harmless, and could have compro- mised nobody. 1'hey did but consist of a lock of hair, soft and dark like Helen's, in an envelope — no letter, nothing more, except that on the turned-down leaf of the envelope was written in a woman's hand — " You will forgive me, I know. But I shall noTcr forgive myself." And now Uncle Archie had come joyously down to Bridlemere on purpose to take Helen to the ^liddlesworth ball. CHAPTEll X. THE MIDDLESWOKTII BALL. [IIS was no trifling ceremony, no com- niGn-})lace, ordinary function. To the iuliabitants of Middleswortli it partook of the nature of a sacrifice, entailing, as it did, vast preparation, anxiety, and expense. To the surrounding county families, although intrinsically a festivity, it was also an important epoch from which to date all other less engrossing events. As people say before and after Christmas, so those who attended it were accustomed to date their proceedings as before and after the Middles- worth ball. It was a moveable feast, too, and depended, in a certain sense, and by courtesy, as it were, on the moon. She seldom smiled upon 2G4 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. it, liowever, usually liidiuti: herself tlie whole of the iiuportant night helihid heavy clouds coming up from the south-west, with a drizzling rain. Post-horses were in great request at this season, and their drivers expectant of large gratuities in virtue of the occasion, with the very questionable state of sobriety it produced : lior were carriage accidents and heart-breaking stopJ)ages, lK)th going and returning, by any means unusual incidents in the gathering. People abused it also, and never seemed sure they w(juld go, though they always went. Papas said it inter- fered with hunting, wliich was simply untrue, for men cannot ride across country at night, and everj'body can get up to hunt, however late he goes to bed, as ladies very well know. ]\ranimas thought they would catch cold, which was indeed a more jjlausible excuse, and borne out by sub- sequent indisposition ; whilst the young ladies vowed it would be stupid, and they didn't care the least whether thev were taken or not, having got their dresses ready all the time. There seemed also a general anxiety to arrive as late as possible. How the Town Hall, which THE MIDDLESWORTII BALL. 205 was a large room, ever iilled, under this prevailing feeling, was probably known but to Tootle and Dinne, the celebrated musical firm, wjio, from their gallery overhead, dominated the ball, hatch- ing, nursing, tempering, and keeping it alive by their strains. They could have told you, and they alone, how large and stately and empty the apartment looked when they first took their places, and the second fiddle commenced his excruciating practices for the attainment of har- mony ! — how beautifully the walls were decorated with stripes of chintz and festoons of flowers ! — how wonch'ous was the execution of the Town Arms in chalk u})on the floor! — how mellow the lustre of those wax-lights under which sallow women looked lair, and fair women lovely ! — lastly, how the first arrivals kept cautiously in the doorway, shi-inking from this enchanted resiion like a knot of bathing schoolboys hesitating on a river-brink in June ! They could have told you, better than I can — for they must have watched her oftener — how Mrs. George Stoney was usually amongst the earliest ; how imperially she entered, spreading her robes of stiff and costly material about her, as 266 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. she took lip a position of defence, at what she was pleased to term *' her own end of the room ;" how her Inisband followed humbly, looking and feeling completely out of place, us a man must on sucli occasions, Avhose gloves are too large, whose boots too small, and whose general habits and disposition lead him to wisli earnestly tliat he was in bed ; how tliey were seldom accompanied, though generally followed at a later period, by Philip — far more iu his element, and, for reasons of his own, regarding these gaieties as glimpses into Paradise ; how, by degrees, more groups of beauty and muslin, and tulle and jewellery, arriv- ing, more voices repeating the same formula — '* What a night ! ^^'here are you staying ? Whom did you bring ?" and, " What a pity the room is so narrow !" the separate knots congre- gated into a crowd, and then dispersed suddenly in couples, while the band struck up, the centre of the apartment cleared itself as if by magic, the vis-a-vis were bespoken, the quadrilles arranged, and the ball foirly began. The weather was cold, though not cold enou'T'h to stop hunting. Two or three adjoining packs of hounds had shown sport; the dancing men, THE MIDDLESWORTH BALL. 267 exhilarated by their morniug's amusement, were on the alert ; the chaperons, congregating round the fire, already prophesied a good ball; nay, Mrs. Stoney herself whispered to George that the " stuck-up set seemed less stuck-up than usual, though, to be sure. Lady Waywarden hadn't come yet ;" and everything looked jDromising for a success. Philip was embarked in the intricacies of " The Lancers" with a pretty, blue-eyed girl, who, in the short intervals permitted by that complicated dance, looked up at liim from under her eye- lashes, as some girls always do look up at their partners, with the benevolent object, no doubt, of making the whole thing as pleasant as possible. She could not but observe that his attention wandered visibly towards the door, " watching lor Lady Waywarden's party, of course," thought the blue-eyed girl, and she cursed them by her gods. What I mean is, she said *' Bother ! " in her heart. Then the measure came to a close ; he mollified her with tea ; he returned her to her mother, and stood under the music free as air again, but still watching the door. Just after the next dance (a glorious waltz, 208 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. played a little too slow), a buzz of attention, almost of admiration, quivered throuirh the room. Philijt's heart jumped into his mouth, and sank down to his boots again. It was but Lady Way- warden's party after all ! The rest of the society, however, seemed to appreciate this addition to their ranks more favourably, although, to Mrs. Stoney's delight, her ladyship did not appear. She had dressed, indeed, for it, and sent her party from Tollesdale, but changed her own mind at the last moment. " The weather was hateful. It was a dark drive. The Duchess could chaperon Julia. Waywarden would take care of tliem all. She didn't want to catch cold; and so good-night to you, dears, and a pleasant ball ! " Therefore, my lord came in with the Duchess of ^lerthyr-Tydvil by his side, and a frank, free, good-humoured, pleasant duchess she was ! Fine face, Saxon to the chin, soft, kind eyes, a rosy mouth, a ringing laugh, a French dressmaker, handsome, happy, and twenty-three ! No wonder she was popular, no wonder the grandees crowded about her, and overwhelmed her with questions, and welcomes, and civilities, and congratulations THE MIDDLESWORTH BALL. 269 on licr looks, her dress, her dancing, everything that was liers ! "Where was the Duke?" "Oh! ^lerthyr- Tydvil never turned up ! He was hunting his hounds the other side of the county. Very likely fighting his May at this moment, poor fellow! on a tired liorse^ to Tollesdale. Very likely fast asleep in his own arm-chair at St. Barbs. So sorry he wasn't here ! Had waited till the last moment in hopes he'd come. Mertliyr- Tydvil was wilil about dancing, and this seemed to be such a nice ball ! " And the Duchess, who, though she was a duchess, had married for love, and was as hapjn' as a dairymaid, looked about so pleased, so pleasing, so kindly, fresh, and radiant, that even Tootle and Dinne above fancied a dozen more wax candles had been suddenly lighted, and struck up an enlivening measure with a keener taste and spirit than was usually displayed by those celebrated performers themselves. Kay, Mrs. George Stoney could not resist the pervading influence, and was actually fascinated bv the Duchess. The latter had no idea of confining her good spu'its and her good-humour to any one part of the room. She asked her jovial host point- 270 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. blank to dance with her. She made Waywarden take her to the low end, and invite that great handsome woman to be their vis-d-vis, owning, T am afraid, that she wanted to inspect so wonderful a dress more closely : nay, she trod upon the dress by accident, and apologized so sweetly, and spoke to Mrs. George subsequently in the tea-room so kindly, that the latter adored her on the spot, and was never afterwards tired of praising her favoiu-ite, paying her, as she thought, the greatest of all compliments, while she protested "she could not conceive it possible how such a sweet creature as that could be a friend of Lady Way- warden ! " And these victories her grace eflfected without eifort or afterthought, just as she transfixed Eagman de Eolle by a glance, literally dazzling that diffident hussar with her beauty, leaving him bewildered, awe-stricken, and positively gasping with admiration. Philip Stouey had left off watching the door for, perhaps, five minutes, during which interval he had been pressed for a tea-drinking sen-ice by an old lady who had held him on her knee when a child. The little start he gave, and the rapidity THE MIDDLESWORTH BALL. 271 with which the colour left his cheek, when he saw Sir Archibald and jMiss Brooke at his very elbow, as he re-entered the ball-room, sufficiently ac- counted for his previous vigilance to any one who happened to be watching him. Mrs. George did, and, being a woman, found him out from that moment. Helen looked remarkably well; but she, too, was pale even for her. Nevertheless, as both her brothers remarked (for both were there), " every- thing had been done to bring her out in good form :" nor, indeed, could the most artful and experienced of dowagers in London have been more anxious than was Sir Archibald about the dress and appearance of his charge. It was this old soldier, whose life had been spent in camps and deserts, and long, weary campaigns, and fierce irregular warfare, who had suggested the dressing after dinner, the cup of strong coffee before start- ing, and the latest departure possible, that she might appear with smooth hair and fresh toilet when the room was at its fullest. How proud he was of her as she moved grace- fully along, with her white ^vreath encircling the dainty head that she carried like a young stag, in 272 THE BROOKES OF BPJDLEMERE. happy contrast witli its MTaltli of silken jet black hair. Even Walter could not help whispering to Jack: ''I must say, Nell always looks like a thorough-bred one ;" and Jack replied from the bottom ol' his honest heart, " Darlino: Nell !" but Sir Archibald believed in her as the handsomest girl and the nicest that had been seen in Eng- land for twenty years, and doted on her and admired her more than did anybody else on earth, except one, who had been watching the door so eagerly to-night. That one could have kissed the very ground she trod on. lie worshipped her as an angel, while Sir Archibald loved her as a child. To her uncle she was the embodiment of memor}' — to Mm, of hope. Mr. I'hiJip Stoney, I say, started when he saw her, as if he had not expected Miss Brooke, which seems strange, inasmuch as if this had been the case, I cannot satisfactorily account for his presence here at all. I think 1 can understand also, though I cannot explain, w hy he made as though he had not noticed her, but collected his energies a little, and then walked up to perform his bow, rather distantly, doubting the while that he should hardly yet find THE MIDDLESWORTH BALL. 273 courage to ask her to dance. But Helen looked so pleased to see him, and shook hands with him so cordially, that he brightened up all at once, and made his very natural proposal with far more audacity than he could have hoped, but in a low tone and a serious, notwithstanding, since it was no light boon to him for which he begged. I dare say Miss Brooke's quick ear did not fail to detect a little tremor in his voice, and she may even have suspected the reason why the strong arm fairly trembled under a hand that rested on it so lightly. If so, it might have been displeasure, perhaps, which caused her to speak but little, and o\\ common-place topics, scarce louder than a whisper, and that prevented her lifting her own eyes more than once, and then very cautiously, to her part- ner's ; nay, though her colour went and came, this is often the result of hatred as well as love. 1 know she looked Mr. Multiple straight enough in the face when she recognised the stranger whom she had seen in her afternoon's walk, and who presumed to bow to her on the strength of tliat fortuitous meetino-, I also think she clunii; to Philip a little as she hurried away, leaving Sir VOL. I. T 274 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. Archibald and No. 6 standing together near the door, from which position they reconnoitred, and remarked upon the different incidents that consti- tuted the balL And now Kagnmn dc lu)lle, stimulated by the threefold inlluence of ambition, admiration, and champagne, implored Sir Archibald, whose ac- quaintance he had made through AValter, to present him to the young, iiappy, handsome Ducliess. Uncle Archie, who knew everybody, and, if a little satirical, was always good-natured, complied immediately, and " Ivags," emboldened by success, ventured to ask her to dance, trembling the while at his own audacitv. She was one of those straightforward, energetic hidies, who go to a ball for the express purpose of dancing, just as a sportsman beats a turnip-field to kill as many birds as he can. The more sport she had, the better she was pleased. I believe also, to use another metaphor of the same nature, she cared little about a partner's points, so long as he could " g:o." " Very happy, I'm sure," said the Duchess, with a cordial bow and a radiant smile that would have knocked even an experienced practitioner THE MIDDLESWORTH BALL. 275 out of time, while she drew her arm through her partner's, and led him away at once in search of a vis-a-vis, for this was to be a quadrille, and she worked her dances regularly thi'ough, round and square. The hussar scarcely knew whether he was on his head or his heels. He had a vague idea he was dreaming; the whole thing was too like enchantment to be true ; but if ever man resolved to merit his good fortune, by rigid attention to a figure, and accurate execution of its steps, tliat man was " Eags." Though Mr. Multiple moved about the room, criticising freely its inmates. Uncle xVrchie, be sure, did not stir from his position neai* the door, for he had told Helen she would find him there when required ; but he watched the dancers with the indolent enjoyment of a man who has begun to rest himself in life. Even Sir Archibald was somewhat given to dreaming — a habit he had acquired in many still night-watches, and lonely wanderings. He had read a little, and thought much. His reading had been quaint, desultory, and somewhat useless ; his thoughts were imbued with a tinge of romance and melancholy, and T 2 276 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. humour combined, which afforded him a good deal of quiet amusement. From Avhere he stood he could see nothing of Helen but the ample skirt of her garment, so he watched the Duchess, and admired her fresh English beauty, her frankness, her comeliness, her fair modest brow, her native dignity of manner, and the robe of truth and innocence, and simple high-bom grace in which she moved so royally. He thought of^hor noble, free-hearted young husband, whom she loved so fondly, and the brave old race to which she had brought the blood and beauty of her own. The brave old race that had given its scions so lavishly for England, wherever shot was fired or sword drawn, or life poured out like water in the cause of honour, and the knightly craving for re- nown ; that had seen its children stand at In- kermau, and charge at Waterloo, and walk grace- fully to death at Malplaquet, and sliiver lances (in the mail-clad chivalry of France, to the battle-cry of "St. George!" at Cregy and Poic- tiers ; that traced its lineage upward, loyal and stainless, to the Saxon Heptarchy; to the good King Alfred, even to the dim, distant glories of Arthur and his Eound Table, with the princely THE MIDDLESWORTH BALL. 277 paladins, amongst whom one of the knightliest and the noblest was its own ancestor, " Sir Carodac the Keen."* Still looking at the Duchess as she moved through the dance, he thought of " The Boy and the Mantle ;" of the first gentle heart on record that had given itself to a Craddock ; of its faith, its loyalty, its honest, unshrinking confidence in its own truth and purity, when it assumed the enchanted garment that none could wear if false, however beautiful, as described iu the simple stanzas of that quaint old ballad : " When sbee had tane the mantle And cast it her abowt, Upp att her great toe It began to crinkle and crowL Shee said, Bowe downe, mantle. And sliame me not for nought. * " Why should I mention many more — Sir Kuyc, Sir Banier, and Sir Bore, Sir Carodac the Keen ; The gentle Gawain's courteous lore, Hector de Mares and Pellinore, And Launcelot, who evermore Looked stolen ^vise on the Queen? " Bridal of Triermain . 278 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. Once I did amisse, I tell you certiiinlyc, When I kis't Craddockc's mouth Under a grecne tree — "When I kissed Craddocke's mouth Before he marryed mee." A strange, old-world ballad ! Strange thoughts for a ball-room ! Sir Archibald had almost for- gotten where he was, when a voice that never failed to tix his attention, roused hiiji from his dream, and Helen munuured in the iond, petulant tone that she used only to Jam : " Oh, Uncle Archie, I've promised to dance the next dance with that horrid man, and it's a waltz ! " ""That horrid man" was no other than Mr. ^[ultiple, who, considering his previous meeting with Miss Brooke, and acquaintance with her uncle and second brother (for Walter knew him, of course), entitled him to make the request, had offered himself as a partner, and whom Helen, too young a lady to be rude, was forced to accept, though much against the grain. She gave a comical little look of resignation at her uncle when Mr. Multiple came to claim her, and darted one glance, which was immediately THE MIDDLES WORTH BALL. 279 ■withdrawn, at another face far down the room. Then the waltz began, and there was nothing for it but to rest her hand upon Mr. IMultiple's shoukler, and put oil" into the whirlpool under his pilotage. Had Sir Archibald not been so taken up with his favourite as to have eyes for none but her, he must have remarked a charming couple, in whom he was to a certain degree interested, floating airily round to the sinking, swelling strains of the soft Naehtwiindler waltz. Lady Julia Treadwell was one of those damsels who can never be thoroughly eclipsed. Less splendid than the Duchess, less lovely than Helen Brooke, she was, if possible, better dressed than either, and triumphed, besides, in a brightness and piquancy peculiarly her own. She danced, too, like a sprite, or a Frenchw^oman, and never seemed hot or out of breath, whereas the Duchess, in the ardour of her exercise, cUd punt a little more than was correct, and flush a little more than was becoming. She had the knack, too, of talking to her partner the whole time, on indifferent subjects, tinned with a stronc; dash of sarcasm. She seemed to manv lookers-on, of whom Jack Brooke 280 THE BROOKES OF BEIDLEMERE. was one, to be discussing some engrossing topic in keeping with the general fascination of the scene. \Miat she did say was simple and practical <.>noug]i. You must imagine the partners whirling by, smooth and speedy as an express train, the lady going with perfect ease, and, as she observed, " quite within herself." Lady Julia — " Good waltz that old one, Mr. Brooke. They don't half put the pace in, though !" Walter, who, though an excellent dancer, was doing all he knew — " I can make it a little faster, if you like." Lady Julia, looking about her as coolly as if she were standing still — " Wait till that red woman collapses, and we'll get the steam on. Down the whole length of the room, like the run-in for the Derby. — Ah ! I like this !" So down the whole length of the room they came with the utmost haste, for the " red woman," who was, hideed, no other than Mrs. George Stoney, collapsed from sheer exhaustion, after a round or two, and Lady Julia, having a clear stage, took advantage of it to whirl along with a THE MIDDLESWOKTH BALL, 281 dexterous rapidity that elicited this exclamation of enjoyment when she stopped, which she did imme- diately under Jack Brooke's nose. He made her a solemn bow, as politeness re- quired, and she returned it with a little, saucy nod, half malicious, half defiant, that frightened honest Jack considerably. Then she bent towards her partner, and asked him where he learned to waltz. " You can go fast without labouring," said she. "Is it natural genius or polite education? You must ]ia\e begun very early. Did the deux-temps, in a pinafore, with your sister, I should say ?" Walter " didn't know, he was sure. Always waltzed ; ever since he could remember. Sup- posed he must have learnt once. Taught it by his wet-nurse, in all probability !" " Don't your brother waltz ?' asked Lady Julia, quickly ; and, turning sharp round upon Jack, re- peated her question : " Don't you waltz, Mr. Brooke?" But before he could answer, which he must have done in the negative, she was away on her flight once more, her pliant figure swaying gracefully to every movement of her cavalier, her draperies floating about her in a mist of lace and muslin. 282 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. and a gossamer material wliich, I understand, is called, with ^rreat propriety, '* illusimi,'' her eyes shooting sparks like diamonds, and the uncom- promising mouth shut tighter tlian before. tSlie looked like a very resolute Ariel, bound on some mission not exclusively of charity or goodwill. Jack watched her for two or three rounds of the room with much the same expressii)n that a child wciirs staring at a soa^nbubble. lie w^is wishing, perhaps, that he could waltz as well as Walter : was thinking that he had spent too much time in the study of equitation, self-defence, buat-raeing, and professional bowling, to the neglect of those lighter accomplishments which are patronized by the female sex. What did thei^ care — what did she care for the exact feather of an oar, the scientific defence of a wicket, the "cross-counter" that staggered a prizefighter, or the " set to" that landed a steeplechase ? Like Sir Andrew Ague- cheek, he regretted that he had not devoted to " the tongues," and such polite acquirements, the hours he had wasted in these rude, robust pur- suits. He watched Ladv Julia, I sav, as a child watches a soap-bubble, and on his honest countenance came THE MIDDLESWORTH BALL. 283 the blank look of the cLild when the soap-bubble bursts, while he turned awav, and •walked drearily off to the su])per-room to refresh himself with a draught of tlie "Plantagenet Arms" champagne. Physically speaking, tliis was by no means a wise measure — that beverage, like a good deal of ball-supper champagne, being of a kind which inflicts headache more or less acute, and a hot sensation at the back of the drinker's throat next morning. Nevertheless, he found Eags here, in a state of high triumph and jubilation, tossing off the pernicious mixture in frothy bumpers, and holding Philip Stoney by his button-hole the while, in ignorance or defiance of that gentleman's obvious anxiety to escape. Kags was pleased with himself, and consequently pleased with everything else, even the " Plantage- net Arms" champagne. He had made, as he felt, a bold plunge into high life. Henceforth, Eags believed, he wa.s what French people call lanee. He had not tried the great world yet. He began to think he should like it. With a few hints from Walter Brooke, he did not see why he should get on worse than other people. This was a famous start. He should not dance again ; of course not. 284 TEE BUOOKES OF BRIDLEMEHE. After the Duchess, every other partner would be tame uud iusipid. Not that he meant to cultivate her grace's acquaintance any more that night. Though delightful, the process had entailed a high state of nervous tension. Jle had done enough, he thought, for once, and had earned the right to enjoy himself. So Kags leaned across the supper- table, and held his champagne-glass to be lilled again and again. " Have some more, Brooke," said he, as Jack set his goblet down, with no great approval of its contents. "And yr)U too, Stoney. ^\'hy you've had none yet, man ! You, sir, here ! Three clean glasses and a fresli bottle of champagne! Good ball, Brooke. Capital ball ! ])y Jove, sir, the thiiifr's been remaikablv well done to-nil Uncle xVrchie now, ^Ir. Stoncy, please ; but thank you all the same." He might have been a little hurt, for ho offered her Ills arm immediately. " Forgive me," said he. '* I have monopolized you too long. You want to join the dancers !" " I shall not dance any more to-ni2:ht," said Helen, demurely enough, as Sir Archibald thought, for the pair had almost reached him when she made this austere declaration; but 1 imagine there was some mysterious inflection of voice, some passing expression of countenam-e by whicli it was accompanied, that gave it an import of a con- soling and exhilarating tendency, for Phili^j's face brightened up on the spot, and he handed her over cheerfully to Sir Archibald, wishing " Good- night" (juite merrily, and disappearing in the crowd with the brisk energy of step and manner that was habitual to him. Helen did not dance again, and it was odd enough that Philip's sister-in-law could not prevail on him, either by entreaty or ridicule, to pair off with any one of the many young ladies w^hom she delighted to scold, suit with partners, and gene- rally matronize at the Middlesworth ball. 21)2 THE BROOKES OF BRIDLEMERE. It did happen, though by a fortuitous concourse of circumstances truly remarkable, that he was in the street at the exact moment when Helen got into her carriage, after being carefully and skil- fully shawled by Uncle Archie, to the disgust of No. 0, not yet retired to that dormitory, as wish- ing to see the last of Miss Brooke. It did happen also, that she wished him " Good night !" again. '\\\o very simple words — an exceedingly conven- tional vale